I’ve been thinking about what friendship and sibling relationships even mean. Like, what are those relationships even supposed to look like? It seems like a lot of you troons and poons really rely on your friends and siblings for support, talk openly, and actually help each other out. But I don’t have that. Being raised how I was, and being (wrongfully) lumped into male social norms, means there’s always been this unspoken rule that I should never get too vulnerable or emotional. If I do, it feels like the entire relationship would collapse.

That is all to say I have no allies in any of this. I’m completely alone here, with no one to rely on, nobody to turn to, nobody I can be open with. That isolation along with my dysphoria has fueled over a decade of depression, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. My latest attempt was March last year, which obviously failed, but as usual the thoughts never left. I just didn’t have the strength to try again.

I tried distracting myself with TV, YouTube, games, school, even porn. Anything to avoid facing what was killing me inside. None of it ever fixed the problem, it just kept getting worse, draining my motivation and messing up my sleep until I couldn’t get out of bed or even enjoy the distractions anymore. The fact that I’m somehow still trundling along through med school is a fucking miracle, but still it always keeps getting worse. The ONLY thing that ever seemed to help was making small steps of progress towards my transition. Buying new clothes, learning makeup, trying to improve my appearance, even getting on DIY (I’m waiting for teahrt to restock on EEn so I can finally place my order). For a long time, I imagined that eventually those little steps would add up and I would get to be around people who actually see me and care about me for who I am. Now I see how impossible that is.

2/4

I’ve basically trapped myself. I left undergrad in the US after 2 years to go to med school abroad because I believed it was my only chance at a stable future. That’s what I had been told all my life, and I knew if I didn’t jump on this opportunity I’d never get into a med school. Now I'm drowning in debt and have no real alternatives. If I quit, I'll have nothing to fall back on, plus the debt. If I continue, I am committing myself to a career that is completely incompatible with what I need for my happiness (transitioning).

Sometimes I fantasize about my family discovering how fucked up I am and just kicking me out. Forced to fend for myself with just some few important amenities and documents as well as the $50k of federal loans I have on my back (it’ll only keep getting bigger as I get through med school). Maybe I would die or maybe I’d survive. If I did survive, at least I would be free to finally claim my life for my own. I’d be free of all these people who only know me as a “man” and would hate for me to try to be a woman. I could finally grow out my hair, pierce my ears, and exist without caring about their reactions. My entire transition would be so much more doable if I just didn’t have all these people who I care about (family, “friends”, family friends, classmates, muslim community members, etc.) tying me down to a life I don’t want. I know that if I were to transition in front of them, seeing their reactions and disdain for what I’d be doing would drive me to quit. Running away from everything in the way I fantasize about is the only way to be free from this mess and start my transition. Life would be awful. I’d have to somehow manage paying off my loan on top of surviving independently (which itself is already a monumental task). This would be exceedingly difficult given that I would have no degree or certification besides my high school diploma. But at least I could live on my own terms, and start my transition now.

3/4

And that’s the crux of the issue. Transitioning now. That’s what I want. This goes back to what I said in the very beginning, about how I was dragged down from my chair as an observer of my life and made to see that my precious and limited life is being wasted not living as the woman I want to be. All those feelings I had been burying came right back out too. I thought I wasn’t bothered by going by my deadname or by male pronouns. I thought I wasn’t bothered by the idea of not being able to socially transition for years if I could at the very least start medically transitioning now. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. I hate it. It’s truly unbearable. If I can’t be a woman I want to die. I can’t tolerate a few more years, potentially even up to another decade, I absolutely don’t want to. I’m losing so much extremely precious time. I don’t want to have lost all my youth before I can even transition. It hurts so badly. Things shouldn’t be this way. I don’t want them to be this way, I can’t stand it. Let me be free, please. If not that, then I’d rather just die. Please.

I just don’t know what to do anymore.

4/4

oh you're so hard done by

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>>38591961
Yeah I’m fucked. It’s really saddening too, I was starting to feel some hope for the future but then reality decided to hit me like a truck.

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I didn't read all of that but I hope your situation improves! <3

>That is all to say I have no allies in any of this. I’m completely alone here, with no one to rely on, nobody to turn to, nobody I can be open with. That isolation along with my dysphoria has fueled over a decade of depression, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts.

This

>>38592591
Nice cat, and thank you :)

Marie, aged twenty, had been a college student for one year
without passing any of her examinations. She arrived to sit an exam
either several days too early or too late. If she ever turned up on
time or while the exam was still in progress, it seemed more or less
by accident, and she could not be bothered to answer the questions.
In her second year, she stopped attending classes altogether, and
appeared to be doing nothing at all. It was extraordinarily difficult
to find out any concrete facts of this girl's life. She came to me at
the suggestion of someone else. I set a regular time for her to see
me twice a week. It was never possible to predict when she might
arrive. To say she was unpunctual would be a vast understatement.
The definitive time for the interview was a point in time which
served only vaguely to orientate her. She would turn up on a
Saturday morning for an interview on Thursday afternoon or she
would phone at 5 p.m. to say that she had just awakened and so
could not manage her interview at four o'clock but would it be
suitable if she came along in an hour or so. She missed five con-
secutive sessions without giving notice, and arrived punctually for
154 The Divided Self
the sixth without comment and continued where she had left off
before this break.

>>38594817
She was a pale, thin, wan creature with unkempt straight hair.
She dressed in an indeterminately vague and odd way. She was
extraordinarily elusive and secretive about herself. As far as I
could gather, not a single one among the many people with whom
she came into fleeting contact ever knew how she spent her life.
Her home was outside London but since going to college she had
taken digs in town and changed her digs frequently. Her parents
never knew where she was staying; she would call on them at odd
moments and pass the time of day as though she was a casual
acquaintance of the family. She was in fact the only child. She
walked swiftly and silently, almost on tiptoe. Her speech was soft
and distinct, but listless, far-away, still and stilted without any
animation. She preferred not to speak about herself but of topics
such as politics and economics. She treated me with apparent
indifference. Usually she made it clear to me that she regarded me
as no more than a further one of her numerous casual acquaint-
ances, on whom she dropped to have a chat. She once told me,
however, that I was a fascinating person; but that my nature was
vicious and dirty. She did not betray any desire or expectation to
get anything from me and it was never completely clear what she
did feel that she derived from me. When she felt herself to be so
indifferent to me she could not understand why she travelled
considerable distances in order to see me.
One would have thought that the outlook in this girl's case was
pretty hopeless, as she presented unequivocally the clinical
psychiatric picture of dementia praecox or schizophrenia sim-
plex.

>>38594822
However, one day she arrived punctually and amazingly trans-
formed. For the first time in my experience of her she was dressed
with at least ordinary care and without that disturbingly odd
appearance in dress and manner that is so characteristic of this
type of person but so difficult to define. Her movements and her
expression had, unmistakably, life in them. She began the session
by saying that she realized that she had been cutting herself off
from any real relationship with other people, that she was scared
by the way she had been living, but, apart from that, she knew in
Psychotic developments 155
herself that this wasn't the right way to live. Obviously something
very decisive had happened. According to her, and I see no reason
to doubt this, it had arisen out of going to see a film. She had gone
every day for a week to see the film La Strada. This is an Italian
film about a man and a girl. The man is an itinerant strong man
who travels from town to town performing his act, which consists
in bursting by chest expansion a chain fastened round him. He
acquires a girl from her parents to act as his assistant. He is strong,
cruel, dirty, and vicious. He treats the girl as dirt. When he chooses,
he rapes her, beats her, abandons her.

>>38594826
He seems to be without
conscience or remorse: he accords her no recognition as a person,
shows not the slightest gratitude when she tries to please him or
when she is loyal to him. He makes it clear to her that there is
nothing that she can do for him that someone else couldn't do
better. She cannot see what use her life is since it has been given
over to this man, and to him she is worthless and useless. Although
in her sadness and desolation there is no persistent bitterness, yet
she is in despair that she is of no significance. She makes friends
with a tight-rope walker in a circus. She laments to him her in-
significance. However, when this funambulist asks her to come
away with him she refuses, saying that if she does so the man will
have nobody to put up with him. The funambulist picks up a pebble
and says that he can't believe that she is absolutely useless since she
must be worth at least as much as the pebble, and the pebble at
least exists. Moreover, he points out that she must also have some
use though she does not know it, since she knows that she is the
only person whom this man does not drive away from him. Much
of the charm of the film derives from this girl. She is utterly without
guile or deception. Every shade of feeling shows itself simply and
immediately through her every action. When the strong man kills
the funambulist before her eyes, and evades justice rather than
confess his crime, she becomes silent except to whimper, 'The fool
is sick, the fool is sick.' She does nothing and eats nothing. When
she seems not to be getting any better the man abandons her
asleep beside a wintry road, leaving her to chance.

>>38594829
This patient identified herself with the girl and at the same time
she saw herself in contrast to this girl. The strong man with his
viciousness, indifference, and cruelty embodied her phantasy of
156 The Divided Self
her father and to some extent her phantasy of me. But what struck
her most forcibly was that, though so despairing and unhappy,
this girl did not cut herself off from life, no matter how terrible it
was. She never became an agent of her own destruction. Nor did
she try to distort her simplicity. The girl was not specifically
religious; she seemed not to have had, any more than Marie, a
faith in a Being whom she could call God; yet, although her faith
was nameless her way of living was somehow an affirmation of life
rather than a negation of it. Marie saw all this in horrified contrast
to her own way of living her life. For she felt she had been denying
herself access to the freshness and forgivingness of creation. Even
the girl in the film could laugh at circus clowns, be thrilled by a
tight-rope walker, find comfort in a song, and be worth no less
than a pebble.

>>38594802
Yeah I think this is the worst part. How do trannies even find themselves surrounded with people they can actually trust, let alone with other trannies? I straight up have only ever been surrounded by judgmental asses. Hell, you guys even have bfs/gfs that accept you as a tranny. Friends that would let you stay with them if life ever goes south. People who would be willing to help you find your footing in life. I’ve never had ANY of that.

Honestly it’s too late now. This shit was supposed to happen in high school or college. I’m in a medical school now. The time to try to live my life is over now, it’s just professionalism and adulthood and conformity now. It’s all just so stifling.

I feel like if I just had friends I could rely on, or just irl tranny friends that I’m really close to, all of this would just feel a lot more feasible. I’d probably be more able to take actual steps forward. Because right now I just don’t see a viable future for myself in which I can feel happy. In this life that I’m leading now, I will never have what I want, I’ll never be able to fuck around with friends that know me and care for me, I’ll never be able to transition except into the rigid world of oldshits and adults, and I’ll never be free. That’s why I crave escape, leaving everything and everybody behind for a chance to maybe take control of my life. But that isn’t very possible either, especially given the loans I have to pay. So now I’m stuck in this limbo where I feel suicide is the only option that doesn’t end in decades of misery and repression but I just don’t have the strength and courage to do it.

I’m sorry.

i read everything you wrote. you’re not alone anon. life isn’t this black and white. you’re not late to anything and there’s still plenty of life ahead of you. you can do it. i believe in you. i can add you on discord if you’d like a friend or someone to listen to you

>>38594835
That’s Laing’s work, right? The Divided Self? I’d heard of it before but never actually read it.

Thanks for sharing, I really really relate to what Marie went through. I’ve not gotten quite as bad as she did just yet and still maintain some level of punctuality in life and engagement with the world but still not nearly the “normal” amount. Props to her for finding something to inspire her to take control of her life and live for herself even if it means putting others aside. She’s a much stronger person than I.

I fear that even if I have that lightbulb moment Marie did (who knows, maybe what I’m going through now is my own lightbulb moment), I wouldn’t be able to take any action over it. I just don’t feel like I have the room to move or change. I’m too tightly chained up to all these other things in life. I can’t help but hold myself back for the people in my life, I doubt I’d ever be able to transition unless I cut everyone off, ESPECIALLY my parents and sisters. But I can’t reasonably do that, can I? I’d be throwing myself to the wolves if I do that. Same with this whole med school thing and this fucking loan ($50k rn, gonna be $250k+ by the time I’m done). Honestly the only reason I’m doing this is because my entire life by just about everyone around me, this was the only thing I was told I could do. I mean, I enjoy some of the material, especially the brain and psychology stuff, but I doubt I’d enjoy life working as a doctor (plus being a tranny doctor means I’d probs face lots of discrimination from others in the field and patients). But I HAVE to keep going down this path because I can’t financially afford to pay back this loan AND survive all on my own with just a hs diploma if I drop out.

What I mean to say by saying all of this again is…I’m trapped. I can’t feasibly do what Marie was able to do for herself. I don’t see any viable moves I could make towards the future I want to live in.

>>38595461
Thanks anon, those are very kind words. I suppose you’re right that life probably isn’t this black and white, but it sure does feel very very very restrictive. I really wish I had the courage to just drop out and make a life for myself but there’s so many problems with that, it’s just impossible. No safety nets, no real friends, no money, huge loan to pay, cost of living keeps going up, no training/specialization, extremely minimal work experience, etc etc. At least I’d be free but god damn that’s just not doable at all.

I genuinely do super appreciate the gesture with the discord thing, and I would really really like to make actual friends, but I don’t want to be too much of a burden. I’d probably just consume your precious time complaining and being sad about myself, like I am now, while providing nothing in return. Like a leech. It’d just frustrate and burden you. Plus I have no actual hobbies or interests so I’m really really really boring.

I’m scared of disappointing you too much by not sharing it though so I’ll just drop my discord here anyways, username is chatgptherapy

Bump

>>38595423
>So now I’m stuck in this limbo where I feel suicide is the only option that doesn’t end in decades of misery and repression but I just don’t have the strength and courage to do it.

Heavy related

>>38591896
;_; hug

have you tried going outside and touching grass

It just keeps getting worse. I feel like everyone is staring at me now, it’s so unsettling and scary. I’m completely out of it now.
>>38598147
Thanks friend :)
>>38598166
Bitch I’m retarded, I fucking EAT grass