During the Corona pandemic I spent a lot of time at home alone, more than was good for me. I had just finished my degree and starting a master's wouldn't be fun because schools were doing everything online, so making friends would be hard. I had a lot of time for thinking and learned many things about myself.
The biggest of them is that I'm transgender. Since then I have done everything in my power to transition the way I wanted to. Navigating the medical system is hell, but I found my way to DIY HRT. I overcame so many personal hangups about the world to achieve this. It felt like an awakening in many ways. Breaking down my ideas of gender made me wonder what other ideas I could break down, which quickly led me to new political stances and anti-capitalism.
Armed with this new identity I started my masters degree at an art and design school. I was surprised to find I had huge trouble fitting in and couldn't really make friends. I started crying more and more. Before long I was taking regular bathroom breaks during classes just to cry, but I kept on trying. After half a year I gave up and accepted that I might be suffering a depression.
I saw many many therapists. Most of them did not want to help me because my case was often too complex and needed expertise they didn't have. It took me well over a year just to find a therapist who didn't ditch me after a few initial visits. Today, I am still waiting for care, and it looks like it will be well over a year still.
During this wait my depression only grew. I definitely did not do nothing, I went on many trips and saw many places. I did a lot of volunteering and have always made art. I read books and see friends a lot. I dated different people poly-style. Been to festivals, been camping, tried drugs... On paper my life was pretty good, short of not having a job and being able to afford many things.
I've never seen money as a huge issue, my friends are so kind they'll pay anything for me because they know in my situation money is a huge problem. But I decided that if I had dreams of traveling than I should start seeking money to realise those plans. My job hunt was rough, most places aren't looking for someone who has a 2 year gap in their résumé, let alone someone who is trans. But I finally found a job at a boulder gym. I've worked there for a couple days now.
Again, on paper my life looks pretty good. I got a pretty neat job with very cool benefits and super low stakes, and I can still find a new one if I want. I can save up to 1000 a month because I no longer pay rent, which means my dreams of buying a van and traveling are very much within reach. I have partners and friends galore and do many things I love. I am finally working on a short film project and it's going very well.
But it doesn't feel worth it. It feels like too much trouble. The world really is a terrible place. I don't agree with the capitalist system, I hate the exploitation of workers and the environment. It pains me to see refugees forced to live in horrible conditions, it pains me to view nature disappearing. I feel powerless to do anything meaningful. Why would I want to live under the condition that I always work, and that that work has to make money and not necessarily help the world?
I hoped so much that finding a job and fixing my situation would help me gain happiness. The kind of happiness my friends speak of. The feeling that life is worth it and everything will be alright. But I still don't feel okay. I'm starting to doubt anything will ever make me happy. How do I continue? Do I just blindly push on for two more years in the hopes I'll stop crying almost daily? I do not want to give up, but I don't want 60 more years if this either.
The biggest of them is that I'm transgender. Since then I have done everything in my power to transition the way I wanted to. Navigating the medical system is hell, but I found my way to DIY HRT. I overcame so many personal hangups about the world to achieve this. It felt like an awakening in many ways. Breaking down my ideas of gender made me wonder what other ideas I could break down, which quickly led me to new political stances and anti-capitalism.
Armed with this new identity I started my masters degree at an art and design school. I was surprised to find I had huge trouble fitting in and couldn't really make friends. I started crying more and more. Before long I was taking regular bathroom breaks during classes just to cry, but I kept on trying. After half a year I gave up and accepted that I might be suffering a depression.
I saw many many therapists. Most of them did not want to help me because my case was often too complex and needed expertise they didn't have. It took me well over a year just to find a therapist who didn't ditch me after a few initial visits. Today, I am still waiting for care, and it looks like it will be well over a year still.
During this wait my depression only grew. I definitely did not do nothing, I went on many trips and saw many places. I did a lot of volunteering and have always made art. I read books and see friends a lot. I dated different people poly-style. Been to festivals, been camping, tried drugs... On paper my life was pretty good, short of not having a job and being able to afford many things.
I've never seen money as a huge issue, my friends are so kind they'll pay anything for me because they know in my situation money is a huge problem. But I decided that if I had dreams of traveling than I should start seeking money to realise those plans. My job hunt was rough, most places aren't looking for someone who has a 2 year gap in their résumé, let alone someone who is trans. But I finally found a job at a boulder gym. I've worked there for a couple days now.
Again, on paper my life looks pretty good. I got a pretty neat job with very cool benefits and super low stakes, and I can still find a new one if I want. I can save up to 1000 a month because I no longer pay rent, which means my dreams of buying a van and traveling are very much within reach. I have partners and friends galore and do many things I love. I am finally working on a short film project and it's going very well.
But it doesn't feel worth it. It feels like too much trouble. The world really is a terrible place. I don't agree with the capitalist system, I hate the exploitation of workers and the environment. It pains me to see refugees forced to live in horrible conditions, it pains me to view nature disappearing. I feel powerless to do anything meaningful. Why would I want to live under the condition that I always work, and that that work has to make money and not necessarily help the world?
I hoped so much that finding a job and fixing my situation would help me gain happiness. The kind of happiness my friends speak of. The feeling that life is worth it and everything will be alright. But I still don't feel okay. I'm starting to doubt anything will ever make me happy. How do I continue? Do I just blindly push on for two more years in the hopes I'll stop crying almost daily? I do not want to give up, but I don't want 60 more years if this either.
