AnonymousTomato
Member
- Mar 28, 2023
- 15
Six years ago I made my first suicide attempt. I've fought so hard since then to enjoy life and get better, but nearly every day is a struggle. Circumstances right now in the US have convinced me that life is only going to get worse, so I'm making plans. But first, I want to tell my story - or as much of it as I can without writing a novel.
I've had depression since I was 12 or 13. It went into remission in undergrad, and then came on strong the year after graduation. I was, by all definitions, successful. But I had daily thoughts of suicide, and when I tried to get help, I was told I had seasonal affective disorder. When I couldn't take it anymore, I made an attempt. My boyfriend told me to tell my therapist, which I did. Then - long story short - my doc convinced me to talk to a psych, and put me on a bus to go to the psych office. Only, it wasn't an office, it was an asylum. I was told I merely had an appointment, but they were having me walk myself into being committed. I ran. They called my dad and told him I was involuntarily committed and would be there for weeks. (Good job checking that I actually made it there).
I escaped that one but lost my job. I was poor. I had no car. I wasn't getting any better. I made a half-hearted second attempt and my mother in law sent me to a mental hospital under threat of calling the police if I didn't comply. It was horrible. They mis-diagnosed me with bipolar. The medication was no good for me. I still have nightmares.
Over the next several years I made some small improvements. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and anxiety, and I was put on meds that made me function juuuuuuust enough (most days) to get out of bed and do the bare minimum. I was miserable working tech and managed to apply for graduate school, studying the only thing that made me happy. I got in. I thought that things would get better. It was fall 2019. You know what comes next.
It's amazing I made it thru 2020/2021. I live in a red state. The response to COVID made me lose all faith in humanity. I isolated. I didn't want to be friends with the people around me.
And in 2021, I found out I'm trans (FtM). This was a revelation; so much of my life made sense then. I actually had hope that this, finally, was what I needed to know to understand myself and why I am like I am. Taking testosterone did wonders for my mental health. Things were...not good, but better. I never regretted top surgery for a second. I finally felt in tune with my body. I wanted to exercise again. I had hope.
But, red state. I had to be semi-closeted. No one in my grad program could know. I could be kicked out. I started living a double life. And every day I heard something, from a classmate or prof or on a billboard or on the news, about how mutilated and perverted and deranged trans people are. It wears on you to hear that. I've only ever wanted to help people. To be kind. To love and be loved. But no one loves trans people. The GOP is building an entire platform that is grounded in people's hatred of us.
I thought things might get better after I graduate. When I could be myself, and live someplace better. But that place clearly won't be in the US. I need to get out of here. But immigration is so hard. Really, I'm so mentally damaged and I have too many issues to make it work. No good country actually has a program to help people like me get out of the US, so I would have to prove my worth and how much they need me as a citizen, and I just don't have it in me anymore to do that.
And as things heat up towards 2024, and with that school shooting that just happened, things are getting worse daily. Now they have the prime case example they want to ban us entirely (even though the stats are like, something like 5 out of 2800 mass shooters in the past several years have identified as trans). Every day it gets more hostile and every day I lose energy to function. And all my friends, they just keep saying things like "Oh X law is so unenforceable, you'll be okay" to the point where I just feel like I'm being gaslit, too. And I can't talk to a therapist about any of this, because they'll only get half the story. I can't tell someone what's really going on because they're mandated to report me. To lock me up again. Honestly, if I had one thing to live for just a little bit longer, it'd be to write a kick-ass article about how damaging mandated reporting is.
So, I'm trapped in a red state. Leaving seems to be near impossible as I just don't have the finances to get to a blue state, and what I really need is to get out of the US entirely. I've been battling severe depression for my whole life, the worst of it over the past 6 years. And the one bit of hope I had that things might get better has actually been a curse, given the ever-worstening political environment. And I've finally accepted I'm just ready to give up. I don't want to keep fighting until I've lost everything I have, slowly. Drop out of the program, move if I can, get a dead-end job and still be stuck in this shit country. I don't see a scenario where fighting wins me anything.
So, I'm making plans. Seriously this time. Last time was desperate. This time I'll do it right. I'm thinking exit bag. I don't want to leave too much of a mess. I know some can't be helped, and firearms would actually be pretty easy to get where I live, but the mess...I don't want to do that to people.
Tbh I'd *love* to get some of the drugs they use for MAiD. But I don't think that's possible. Exit bag seems the most straightforward - within a manageable price range, somewhat less mess than other methods, supposedly pretty painless.
But I wanted to be heard first. If you read this, thanks for listening.
I've had depression since I was 12 or 13. It went into remission in undergrad, and then came on strong the year after graduation. I was, by all definitions, successful. But I had daily thoughts of suicide, and when I tried to get help, I was told I had seasonal affective disorder. When I couldn't take it anymore, I made an attempt. My boyfriend told me to tell my therapist, which I did. Then - long story short - my doc convinced me to talk to a psych, and put me on a bus to go to the psych office. Only, it wasn't an office, it was an asylum. I was told I merely had an appointment, but they were having me walk myself into being committed. I ran. They called my dad and told him I was involuntarily committed and would be there for weeks. (Good job checking that I actually made it there).
I escaped that one but lost my job. I was poor. I had no car. I wasn't getting any better. I made a half-hearted second attempt and my mother in law sent me to a mental hospital under threat of calling the police if I didn't comply. It was horrible. They mis-diagnosed me with bipolar. The medication was no good for me. I still have nightmares.
Over the next several years I made some small improvements. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and anxiety, and I was put on meds that made me function juuuuuuust enough (most days) to get out of bed and do the bare minimum. I was miserable working tech and managed to apply for graduate school, studying the only thing that made me happy. I got in. I thought that things would get better. It was fall 2019. You know what comes next.
It's amazing I made it thru 2020/2021. I live in a red state. The response to COVID made me lose all faith in humanity. I isolated. I didn't want to be friends with the people around me.
And in 2021, I found out I'm trans (FtM). This was a revelation; so much of my life made sense then. I actually had hope that this, finally, was what I needed to know to understand myself and why I am like I am. Taking testosterone did wonders for my mental health. Things were...not good, but better. I never regretted top surgery for a second. I finally felt in tune with my body. I wanted to exercise again. I had hope.
But, red state. I had to be semi-closeted. No one in my grad program could know. I could be kicked out. I started living a double life. And every day I heard something, from a classmate or prof or on a billboard or on the news, about how mutilated and perverted and deranged trans people are. It wears on you to hear that. I've only ever wanted to help people. To be kind. To love and be loved. But no one loves trans people. The GOP is building an entire platform that is grounded in people's hatred of us.
I thought things might get better after I graduate. When I could be myself, and live someplace better. But that place clearly won't be in the US. I need to get out of here. But immigration is so hard. Really, I'm so mentally damaged and I have too many issues to make it work. No good country actually has a program to help people like me get out of the US, so I would have to prove my worth and how much they need me as a citizen, and I just don't have it in me anymore to do that.
And as things heat up towards 2024, and with that school shooting that just happened, things are getting worse daily. Now they have the prime case example they want to ban us entirely (even though the stats are like, something like 5 out of 2800 mass shooters in the past several years have identified as trans). Every day it gets more hostile and every day I lose energy to function. And all my friends, they just keep saying things like "Oh X law is so unenforceable, you'll be okay" to the point where I just feel like I'm being gaslit, too. And I can't talk to a therapist about any of this, because they'll only get half the story. I can't tell someone what's really going on because they're mandated to report me. To lock me up again. Honestly, if I had one thing to live for just a little bit longer, it'd be to write a kick-ass article about how damaging mandated reporting is.
So, I'm trapped in a red state. Leaving seems to be near impossible as I just don't have the finances to get to a blue state, and what I really need is to get out of the US entirely. I've been battling severe depression for my whole life, the worst of it over the past 6 years. And the one bit of hope I had that things might get better has actually been a curse, given the ever-worstening political environment. And I've finally accepted I'm just ready to give up. I don't want to keep fighting until I've lost everything I have, slowly. Drop out of the program, move if I can, get a dead-end job and still be stuck in this shit country. I don't see a scenario where fighting wins me anything.
So, I'm making plans. Seriously this time. Last time was desperate. This time I'll do it right. I'm thinking exit bag. I don't want to leave too much of a mess. I know some can't be helped, and firearms would actually be pretty easy to get where I live, but the mess...I don't want to do that to people.
Tbh I'd *love* to get some of the drugs they use for MAiD. But I don't think that's possible. Exit bag seems the most straightforward - within a manageable price range, somewhat less mess than other methods, supposedly pretty painless.
But I wanted to be heard first. If you read this, thanks for listening.
best wishes!
