Dealing with abuse

Throughout my journey of coming out, transitioning and living as a transgender woman, I have had very little negativity thrown in my direction. I have had a few unpleasant encounters, some environments I thought I was safe and secure, turn into something less than desirable. I got managed out of a job while I was transitioning, which in turn made my mental health deteriorate, and I made some poor decisions that affected my living situation. People who I thought were friends turn into a toxic mess, trying to erode any sort of self worth I had gained and bring them down into their cesspool of negativity and misery. I try to own my mistakes and my emotions, and some of these situations were entirely my fault, which I have made attempts to repair the damage I did. But most were done to me by people who carried some form of prejudice, intolerance or by people who just flat out turned their back on me in a time of need. As I continue to move forward with my life, I am so glad that those people have fallen out of my life, and I am better for it.

Just recently, I had an extended family member call me a whiney, selfish, self centred narcissist because I put a post on Facebook about asking people who say they will help, need to actually step up and help. I am frustrated when I read people make statements that they are there to help people who have a mental illness but fail to do anything. Every person who has let people know that they struggle with a mental illness is vulnerable. I keep seeing people like Chester Bennington, Robin Williams, Avicii (Tim Bergling), Anthony Bourdain, Chris Cornell, Keith Flint, Rick Rypien who were all public figures and told their stories of their mental health battles, still take their own lives. These were all famous people who needed help. They put on a brave face to the world when they were falling apart on the inside and all succumbed to their demons. My frustrations are based on the people who say they will help, and do nothing, so I called them out in a generalized post on social media. I named no names, I pointed no fingers. This extended family member attacked me out of their own narrow view on the world, and their own prejudices of how they interpret the world, and me. This wasn't the first attack they had done in my direction either. The thing about this attack was how my friends rallied around me to either back me up or check in on me to see how I was doing, but none of my family have. No one has said anything. Nothing about who was right or wrong. Asked if I was okay. Commented about it all. So this has gotten me thinking about the different forms of abuse I have had to face and overcome over my years.

I have mentioned before that I never had much of a relationship with my father. I have gone over this time and time again in my head, done maths and written stuff down and talked about this a lot over the years. This is one massive dent in my armour that will never get repaired. Like most people in the 1960/70's, my parents married young and had three children before they were 27. For the most part, I don't really remember many problems when I was little, but when I was around 11 or 12, my father began distancing himself from family dinners, family events and other things. He would have been around 38 - 40 I guess. Statistically, this is when most men go through their most vulnerable time and either self medicate with drugs or alcohol (my father's choice), or commit suicide. So for years I was forced to live with an abusive drunk father, and had to step between fights he would cause in his drunken state.

High school was a horrible place for me. I was bullied terribly there. I was super shy, and an easy target for the boys wanting to project their own insecurities onto a helpless victim. This time happened to coincide with a home life I hated. My younger brother had many problems and got all the focus to help him through these years. He got really sick and he nearly died. I only found this out from my mother after he died at 38 though, as my parents kept important information from me. He got recurring illnesses as an ongoing effect of a compromised immune system, and got into some serious trouble with the police. So while I was neglected and failing miserably at school and socially, attention went to the most needy. I hold no grudges about that, it just was. This also made home life ever worse through this time. I hated school, I hated home, and I had nowhere to go. I was in a my own personal isolation, and occasionally drunkenly ordered to do some menial task. And the damage has never been repaired. Looking at this time for me, I would always wonder if I was born a girl, would that have made any difference in how my life was. If my relationship would have been better with him. Would it had made him want to be part of the family through those teenage years. Honestly, probably not. But I had zero chance to begin to accept the real me back then in such a hostile environment.

Through my twenties I had a lot of trust issues and I still had no voice to stand up for myself. I would get bullied at work, and many times I would hide and cry when I got broken down my my boss. The occasional time I would stand up to him, I would usually get told the 'Golden Rule'. "He who has the gold, makes the rules! I have the gold, I make the rules!" So I lost a lot. I sought out relationships that were all sorts of wrong from me. I got taken advantage of, I even moved to another country on a series of lies. I got bullied through my 30's by my partner who always did her most destructive work in whispers, lowered voices and behind a false smile to the world. She projected the image of someone who was helpless, but she was the puppet master pulling all the strings. Even when we broke up, she took all the money that I had contributed into the house, and the relationship. She stole any financial gains I made.

After her, I ended up figuring out who I was about one year later and I began my journey to become the woman I now am. But I have had very little actual abuse throughout this time. That all changed last year while I was getting ready to move from one flat to another. I never wrote about the experience at the time, but I did mention it on Facebook. 2019 was a rough year for my living situation. I started the year with temporary accomodation and when water came in from upstairs, that ended a lot sooner than expected. I ended up being helped out by my boyfriend and his flatmate for three months. This really took a toll on how we were interacting with each other, and took a long time to repair. I moved to a place and got an 10 day notice that my flatmate had lost his job and was moving to Australia. So Homeless again after another 3 months there. I found a place with a mother and daughter who seemed to be super friendly and nice. There was a bit of a challenge with how they were doing the money side of things and I should have known then, but I was desperate to have somewhere to stay. I was there for about four weeks when the house I am in now was offered to me. Some acquaintances were moving and wanted the house to stay within the community which was perfect for me. it was much closer to the city and was going to cost me the same amount each week.

I let the mother and daughter know that I would be moving out soon, in the next 2-3 weeks. The initial reaction was very positive, then after a few days they started asking me for more rent. I had more than paid them for the rent, with the bond and advance so I said so. This was when it all came crashing down. I got attacked and abused with the worst insults I have ever had experienced in my life. Everyone who I have told them what they said have all been horrified. They were cheap, generic, outlandish, over the top, derogatory insults and nothing was original. To say I didn't stay there after that moment is an understatement. I called my BF and we were packed up and all my things gone in 3 hours. Luckily The people moving out had cleared the garage so my stuff went in there until they had moved out. Until this last week, I hadn't been attacked or abused since, unless you count the misgendering and deadnaming my parents did at their anniversary weekend.

I have been pretty fortunate as I have integrated into my new life. I have had it easy compared to others. I pass reasonably well. Hardly anyone in my world sees the old me. The ones who I bump into from my old life move on very quickly and only see me for who I am now. I made peace and new friends by returning to my old high school for my reunion 18 months ago. But I carry a lot of emotional scars. I put on a smile, and I put on a show to the world. But I am not the only one. Everyone has baggage, scars and trauma from their past. But learning how to deal with those things in a positive way is what I am trying to do. Those that ask quietly for help are the ones who I believe are the ones who are most at risk. They don't want to burden anyone, so they only ask once. If they get no help they will tend to not ask again. Those who offer help but do not give it, step up and give that help. It's like you seeing someone in the water while you are holding onto the life preserver in your hand and not throwing it. You have the ability to help that person in need, just through them the lifeline they need. Don't tease them, just throw the damn thing!