TW: moaning, loneliness, trans stuff.
I haven’t worn make up in months. I don’t know when I shall again. I find myself getting used to the isolation of lockdown and I know my nature very well, without care and attention I could find myself staying isolated and behind closed doors for the rest of my life. I’ve lost the pride and care in my appearance and can’t really face the effort needed to get dressed up like those ladies who get dolled up to take out the bins. This morning I went to the shop in 4 days old clothes and 3 days of stubble. I just don’t seem to care anymore. I mean, what’s the point? I need rescuing but a pandemic is on.
One of the things that people used to say when I told them I didn’t like being single was “It’ll happen, just stop looking.” and “If it’s meant to be…” This is utter bullshit. There are millions of women who died old and single waiting for some miracle of fate to happen. I’m trans and only interested in women. No one wants us. I can maybe find one or two old fat men to fuck me as a fetish but I don’t want them. I need a pretty, funny woman to rescue me but a pandemic is on.
I’m trying everything but I’m still not losing weight because I can’t get out due to a dearth of motivation, depression, and a sedentary job. This means my surgery is never going to happen which also means my life is done. Even if I had the £25k to fly to Thailand I couldn’t get the operation because I’m too fat and it would mean I’d have to fly there on my own (which I would talk myself out of due to fear) and fly back on my own (which they don’t like due to surgical weakness issues. You’re not even supposed to lift a handbag in case you rupture yourself). I need rescuing from my despair and my removal from the NHS trans pathway but there is a pandemic on.
I have contracts which cost a business owners rate despite the fact im now an employee so I’m almost constantly broke. I was planning on doing a hotel tour of north Wales in 2022 for a month but I can’t even keep up with my bills. I paid off some bills and had a good Christmas thanks to a friend’s generosity but I’m stuck in a rut really. I’m part of a business I started that I’m not really part of anymore. I need to feel useful but I’m ill and there’s a pandemic going on.
My health is worse than it’s ever been except my fatigue is slightly less due to me boosting my vitamin D to an astonishing degree. My peripheral pain is terrible and I no longer have a sense of touch in my feet or finger tips. I can’t hold pens without shaking. They shoot horses don’t they? My suicidal ideation has calmed down and now I’m apathetic about waking up tomorrow instead of actively seeking to die. I would leave this Earth for good but it would hurt my mum and there’s a pandemic on.
So… yeah. Horrifically lonely, undateable, half-trans freak, broke, ugly, self pitying and trapped monster. You can’t convince me otherwise. Please don’t try. I’d be surprised if anyone gets to the bottom of this. Why can’t my soul just give up on things? Why can’t I just die in the night? Hope is so destructive. I will be 70 and think “maybe… just round the corner…”. I’m SICK of planning things and them going nowhere. At some point you’d have to be really fucking stupid to think something other than “It’s you, Steph. No one likes you.”
Seriously. What’s the point? My life is going nowhere and I’m just taking up resources.
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Stephanie McAlea - Cartographer 