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Tag: support

I told my wife I wanted to die.

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Trigger Warning: Anxiety, Suicidal Ideation, Stress, depression

If you’ve been following me for a bit, you might know that Welcome Home Healing (hey, that’s this blog!) is a friendly corner of the internet. We talk about the fact that I have Cerebral Palsy, depression, and all kinds of things. I’m also a volunteer crisis counselor for CrisisTextLine.

In every day life, and in the volunteering I do, I talk about suicide, debt, substance abuse, personality disorders, chronic illnesses, divorce, death, child abuse, and all kinds of sticky topics on a daily basis. By no means do I ever feel desensitized to talking about these things, however, they’re not necessarily shocking or surprising to me, and I’m grateful that I can have honest dialogue about such difficult issues.

Honest and open dialogue has the ability to prevent hurt feelings, relationship difficulties, and the most preventable cause of death: death by suicide.

I’ll explain more about this, and how you can be receptive to someone who is having thoughts of dying in a future post. Right now, I’d like to show you what happened when I told my wife that I wanted to die.

Some of you might know our situation and what we had to leave behind in order to get our lives back together, but if you don’t, here is the condensed version:

I come from a traumatic background, she does too. In 2014, we got married as husband and wife. In November 2017, after finding out I had PCOS, we suffered a miscarriage. Early 2018, she came out to me and told me she wanted to start Hormone Replacement Therapy, as one major source of her distress had been caused by Gender dysphoria. We were in the throes of family issues, and trying for our second child.

In 2017, we entered Marriage Counseling, and we decided that we are better together. We have remained committed, and yes, we still love each other very much.

As you may have already guessed, I’ve sacrificed more than enough to make our marriage work. Do not be mistaken, my wife has as well. We have sacrificed and prioritized each other, and somehow, we realized that it’s a waste of time to resent or be permanently angry at each other.

Sounds stressful, right? It is. So, when stress and the inability to cope decided to come knocking at my proverbial door, I began to truly feel like living was much too hard and that the future would look better without me. In short: I wanted to die. This was only a few nights ago. Tonight, I’m glad to be alive.

I didn’t call a counselor, I didn’t text anyone – I went to the one person I’ve been through a lifetime of events with in just a few short years. I went to my wife after recognizing the signs of suicidal ideation in my head. I went to her, I said:

“I don’t want to scare you, but I really need to talk. I really need someone. This is serious.”

Immediately, she stopped what she was doing, and we went to our bedroom. I sat up, and let her in. I told her that things had gotten out of hand, and that I was really overwhelmed and sad. I told her that I wouldn’t hurt myself but that the thoughts of suicide had gotten too heavy. I told her that I was having trouble handling everything we’d gone through and that I’d felt like a fool for letting things get so messy in my head. I told her, that yes, while I was confused and scared by everything, I had also been upset with her too, but that I still loved her and that it was time for us to really think things through – or put everything to bed, including our marriage.

I thought she’d shut down. I thought she’d minimize the situation, and I’d go to bed feeling sad and unheard. But man, when I tell you she showed up for me, she really showed up.

She listened to me. She validated how stressful things had been on me, and she owned her part in being the creator of a portion of that stress. She sincerely apologized and said she would always be there for me.

In response, I LET MY GUARD DOWN. Holy crap you guys, (and ladies, and humans) I am such a guarded person that sometimes I forget I’m the one who constructed that wall. I forget that she can’t do her job as my spouse, if I don’t sit down, shut the fuck up, and OPEN THE DOOR FOR HER. LET DOWN MY WALLS AND SHE CAN HELP ME. How can she know what my needs are, if I hadn’t asked her for help?

So, I’m sitting there, like, “Wow, yeah I forgot to make room for two, didn’t I?” I also opened up and owned up to my portion of the mess we had created. And hours had gone by. I was talking and talking and crying and she was too. And then I realized, once more, THIS IS WHY WE ARE STILL MARRIED. THIS IS WHY IT DOESNT MATTER IF SHE’S MY WIFE NOW, RATHER THAN MY HUSBAND. BECAUSE WE SHOW UP. CONSISTENTLY, AND WHEN IT MATTERS MOST, WE HANDLE THINGS WELL, TOGETHER. BECAUSE, MORE THAN ANYTHING, SHE’S MY FRIEND.

She’s my friend. She’s my friend. <3

I had just told my wife, my absolute best friend, that my anxiety was getting the best of me, and that the world she exists in would be better off without me.

She listened to me, without interrupting me. She listened to me, and then she validated my feelings. Afterward, we began to talk about our next steps, and then we collaboratively problem-solved. Sometime later, we held each other, like always. We got up the next morning, renewed and looking forward to the new life we are presently making with each other.

Now, 90% of the resentment and frustration we held onto is gone. Simply because now I know that she does love me, and that she does listen to me.

(90% means the major hurdles. 😉 it’s a fake percentage I used for demonstration purposes).

As for my wife, she got to see me, the real me, in my rawest form. She got to see me breathe for the first time in a long time. She got to see me, the me that is unwound, lackadaisical and creative, a fellow gamer, and as always, a sucker for love and happy endings.

If you are feeling overwhelmed, if you feel unheard, invalidated, ashamed, afraid, please know it’s okay to talk about it. I am here.

You can also text HOME to 741741, and you’ll be connected to someone who cares, and someone who will listen and be there for you.

I’ll have my resource page back up soon, if you are in need of other connections.

Welcome Home.

I love you.

You’re safe here.

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Too disabled to be hired, too intelligent to ask for help.

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It’s no secret that I have Cerebral Palsy. It’s also no secret that I’m well-spoken, and can function well, as far as in terms of cognitive processes. Basically, I’m self-sufficient and I can think pretty darn straight and logically.

It is rough living in the in-between of anything, especially in terms of abilities. I just got off the phone with a resource provider in town that basically told me, in so many words, I speak well so therefore I dont seem to need assistance and that I should make sacrifices in order to be independent.

After every sentence I spoke, after she collected my info, she kept saying I could “tap into resources”, (as if, as a disabled person with an extremely small support system, I haven’t exhausted all of them already), or that we could “do a Google search” online for odd jobs or other ways to bring in income.

I had already told her we had to trade in our car, we had to move, sell everything we owned, I put down cash for a deposit as well as first months rent on my own FROM SELLING EVERYTHING I OWN, and you mean to tell me, even though you haven’t seen me or my wheelchair (that I have to make payments on), that I need to sacrifice more? Yeah, no.

There’s nothing left to sacrifice, and I’m proud of that. I’ve done more than people on two legs would dream of doing, including risking everything to pave a path for myself.

In the South, there was no assistance for me. I lived without it for years. I’m not going to pretend I’m not disabled so that I can keep up with the Jones’s. I’ve been there and done that.

The simple truth is, we are all subject to aging, ailments, disability, and death. We will all have to experience being in need of care, and we should face that with humility. Otherwise, we’re in for a rude awakening and a huge blow to our pride.

I wouldn’t have sat on the phone with this person for over two hours if I had other options to consider at the moment, and she should know that. Where are the people that mind their own business?

It wasn’t like she would give me the space to say that yes, I was rejected from over 200 job positions BECAUSE IM DISABLED AND THEREFORE HAVE GAPS IN WORK EXPERIENCE. She wouldn’t let me speak but offered ‘advice’.

Please, if you can make someone hire me for a steady job, let me hear about it; because I can for sure say I dont want to be on the phone with someone who talks down to someone just for calling them.

Power imbalance much?

Go work in robotics or some shit, or better yet, go be a social worker and help someone less fortunate than you with all that knowledge you seek to possess, lady. Please let me live.

I’m Here For You

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Instead of telling you to keep going, instead of telling you that things will improve, I will sit with you. I will shoulder that burden with you. I will sleep on that floor with you. I will eat in the dark with you. I will lurk on the streets with you. I’ll break through windows so that you can feed your hungry children, with you. I will be there as you cry yourself to sleep for the fourth time this week. I’ll be there when life’s laughing at you, yet again. I’ll be there. Thank you for letting me be there for you. I love you.

Welcome Home.

You’re safe here.

Toothless Grace

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Losing everything is devastating.

teeth

Losing everything when your resources are already quite limited can feel as if life’s just shoving you in a locker for fun. The times that we feel as though we’ve had our teeth kicked in seem to go on and on with no end in sight. No matter how pretty the lights are or how slow the carousel spins, we’re bound to get dizzy.

We’re stripped bare, with our egos exposed, ashamed of what we find; forgetting that our insides are beautiful. We forget that we were born naked, vulnerable, and helpless. This did not make us any less valuable. In fact, our innocence was embraced. 

carousel

Maybe you’re experiencing this season of toothlessness at this moment. If you are, I’d like to gently remind you that dentures exist for a reason, and I’m more than happy to pop those bad boys right in there for you until your adult teeth feel safe enough to push their way through your cotton candy gums.  Let us not forget that toothless grins are innocent and beautiful.

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If life is kicking your ass and leaving your smile bloody, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat. A little blood won’t scare love off. Love after loss is the building block to rebirth. Love cultivates that which has been untended and overlooked. Love is stronger than the vines that grew over the soul. 

Love is the foundation that makes starting over worth it. If the pain of life and the loss that will inevitably reach all of us is the price we pay for strengthening the love that surrounds us, then with all sincerity I say to you: grow, my friend. Grow and pay no mind to the dirt. 

growth

You may have been buried alive for a long time. You may have eaten dirt and mistaken it for fudge, simply because you desired it.

truth

You may have packed your truth so deep down inside because you loved them. You loved them so much that you’d devour the soil that was meant for your growth just so they could heal. You tried to heal them. That is why you are worthy. That is why I know you’ll grow just as you were meant to, and now you’ll have more love left for you.

Real Odd Love

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It’s 2:39 A.M., people. This post is an attempt to sort things out in my own head. First things first. I’m a volunteer crisis counselor for Crisis Text Line. (You should really check them out. There’s never been a time since I started that I’ve regretted it.)

Second of all, I’m married to a transwoman, who I had known as a man for almost five years before they came out to me. We are still together. We also previously had a child together which, unfortunately, I miscarried. HRT prevents biological children like 99% of the time, and for quite some time I was inexplicably angry, especially after I had gone through this entire transition with her and then was barred from going in to see the doctor with her.

Honestly, that’s the only thing that still really devastates me to my core. I wasn’t mad because I wasn’t allowed to go in. I was mad because I was treated like ‘the red-headed stepchild’ rather than her fucking wife who had recently carried and lost their only biological kid. I felt insecure because a lot of people see us as some scandal or a bad joke. I felt as if I were a beard, a ploy, a decoy, a means to an end. Now that I’m more secure of who we are, things have gotten better. We’re in group and couples therapy and have literally the greatest MFT I’ve ever been to. In August, we’ll have been married for five years and I would not change a single one of them.

WE ARE REAL. WE ARE VALID. SHE HAS NOT ‘HAD AN AFFAIR’.

I do not care that she’s trans; I only give a shit about whether or not she’s a good person. She always has been. I know that seems hard to believe, but she has literally wiped my ass for almost a decade now. I can’t reach my butt all the time ’cause I have, like, T-Rex arms. You can bet if she ever got sick I’d do the same for her.

Oh, yeah I forgot to mention, I’m also in a wheelchair. I have Cerebral Palsy. I moved around a lot when I was a kid. We found each other and she never left my side. Day and night since August 18th, 2012 she’s been, my hero. She bathes, clothes, cooks and cleans for me with zero complaints. We’ve each been a handful to each other but she is still without a shadow of a doubt, the best person I have ever met in my life.

LOVE EXISTS. REAL UNCONDITIONAL LOVE EXISTS AND IT IS MAGICAL IF YOU MAKE YOUR OWN WANDS. 

If you are trans, you are not unloveable or any other negative thing those shitty people, who aren’t right for you, made you believe about yourself. If you are physically disabled, you also are not unloveable; you are more than your body. You are mind. You are a soul. You are already made to love and be loved in return. There are people in this world who will be absolutely devoted to you, even if you think you resemble a potato, okay? You are not too broken. You are not too flawed. Who you are is exactly who you need to be.
Own. That.

Also, holy moly, the number of people waiting for us to get divorced is quite appalling. #StillDon’tGiveAShit
You see, I don’t give a shit because I realize that people are people, and, they can do whatever it is that they want or need to do to better themselves.

Also, I haven’t asked her to pray anything away. I’m saying this in the nicest way I possibly can: If you are asking someone to pray an essential piece of their being away, God will never answer in the way you want him to. God understands you, and he will give you the strength to change perspective if you wish to do so. Before you start throwing bricks through my window and all that nonsense, let me say this:

I am a Christian. I believe in God. I love God just as much as you do. However, in my opinion, asking God to take something away from another person is unjust. You cannot intervene with God’s will for that person. God knows his child is trans – that’s between that person and God. It is not your battle.

If your argument (or someone else’s argument) on why trans people are sinners is because “God doesn’t make mistakes” then… that kind of falls apart on itself because God doesn’t just peace out because his creation, his fearfully and wonderfully made creation needs to make some changes to feel better and to be better. If he does, then that’s no God I would choose to put my faith in.

God will meet you wherever you are, and he cares for you no matter what your situation is. The amount of depression and anxiety that my wife has been freed from since beginning HRT is astounding, okay? She had lost her will to live. If she had kept on living as a man, she would have taken her own life. You cannot serve God if you are dead on the inside as well as the outside. Now, since HRT has put her feelings, thoughts, and spirit in order, she can serve God better than she could before, because she doesn’t spend her days in a mental fog with crippling gender dysphoria.

In fact, the only thing I’ve ever felt the need to pray for her about was that people loved her and accepted her as much as I did. I did not ask God to make her a man or to stop her from transitioning. Instead, I talked to him. I told God that I was scared for her and that if this was truly the road she needed to go down, that he walks beside her and grant her clarity to make her decisions. I prayed that he keep her safe. I prayed that he provide her with the strength she would need to travel down a seemingly lonely road. I prayed that if this was not his will for her, that he help her make a U-Turn.

We all have lost nearly all support, save for a few long term friends. We have lost almost everything including our jobs, our routine, our life as we knew it. It is only now that we know the meaning of losing our lives in order to find them. Though the world seems to be crashing down around us, we know a carpenter. 😉

If loving her is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

YOU ARE LOVED.
YOU ARE SUPPORTED. 
IT REALLY DOES GET BETTER.

If you are a trans person who is struggling, please reach out to https://www.translifeline.org/
If you are a family member/friend/ally who loves a trans person, and you’re looking for help coping, please reach out to https://pflag.org/.

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