Don’t call me daughter
Just recently, I was discharged from the hospital because of a suicide attempt. The self hate of being in the wrong body grew to unbelievable proportions. I hated my body, myself, my breasts, and my menstrual cycle. I just couldn’t take it anymore. The self-loathing I felt was unimaginable. I don’t know what set me off. That was one of the first questions I was asked when I was in the hospital but it was a cascade of everything in my life from being disabled to being transgender. I didn’t care anymore. I still don’t. I don’t want to live my life in a hole anymore. Sure, I talk about being transgender on my blog but my mother doesn’t know. She will NEVER accept me for being her son. And that hurt is what drives me to suicide. I’d rather die as her daughter than as her son.