Happiness Doesn’t Exist Sometimes.

CN: lots of depression

Another one of those posts where I’m not sure where to start.

I guess I just wanted to talk about how my depression is pretty much constant. There’s always that sinking, shitty feeling in my chest and stomach. Even when something makes me laugh or smile, that’s just on the surface, and inside me there’s pretty much never any true light.

Maybe this isn’t always true, but I go through spells where it is true. Right now is one of those times.

I’m sure that people at work and others who I interact with in person don’t realize how much pain I’m in on a regular basis. Recently, it’s been showing more, and the primary reason for that is that I haven’t had enough energy to fake not feeling like shit.

Let me emphasize this point: If I seem to be doing okay, that’s probably because I happened to sleep well enough, eat well enough, and didn’t have a fucked up day the day before. I just so happen to have enough energy to find things amusing and maybe even be bouncy and excited.

Between having an incredibly stressful job and an incredibly stressful live-in relationship, I don’t feel like there’s anything really going for me. I don’t have anything to say or the energy to blog. I don’t have any inspiration in me to make art, which used to be so beloved to my soul.

I haven’t even been doing my daily selfie and voice recording to keep track of my transition, which is something I will only be able to do once in my life. And I haven’t made any YouTube videos for almost two months.

I feel like Frodo when they’re finally scaling Mt. Doom. I can scarcely remember the taste of food, the touch of grass, the feeling of a cool breeze. Metaphorically speaking. Everything around me feels hopeless and empty.

Plus I feel like I’m freaking out all the time about relatively minor things, like my sensitivity has skyrocketed. Which makes me feel like I’m a crazy person who adversely effects everyone they interact with.

And I don’t feel genuinely safe or comfortable pretty much ever. Being treated like a woman makes me feel unsafe. Working at a job that seems to drain everything I can give makes me feel unsafe. Living with someone who I have a lot of bad history with makes me feel unsafe. Seeing police officers, ever, makes me feel unsafe.

All of these bad feelings are particularly jarring after going to CONvergence, where I felt more safe and happy and fulfilled than I had in months. When we arrived, I was just watching other people get there and looking at their costumes and nerdy T-shirts and thinking how beautiful it was to see them sharing in the community, being themselves, loving each other.

And then I came back to the same old things, and nothing was better. Nothing has changed. And I don’t have the will to make anything change.

We’re moving into a new apartment this week, and then once we’re settled I’ll be looking for another job. But I don’t feel happy about either of those things. I don’t feel hopeful about either of those things. I’m scared of looking for a job and getting turned down because I’m trans or because of my relatively few body mods, which now include earlobes that are gauged to apparently unacceptable levels at my current job.

I can’t even look forward to my testosterone shots because of how they leave my muscles taut and painful for days afterward.

I’m just… kind of lost and floating along, taking the punches and being worn down more and more.


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