May 10th, 2024


It has been one year since I attempted suicide.

It's been a difficult year. I lost my job, had a public meltdown toward it, attempted suicide, fought homelessness, and am constantly dissociating. I've had a close friend tell me they were glad I'm here after hearing I attempted suicide go on to tell me just a few months later that he hopes I deserve even more pain.

I keep seeing this person's art on my timeline and I feel disgusted knowing I'm incapable of truly informing anyone of their deeds. That's just not the kind of person I am anymore, as much as I desire to. It feels like handicap the same way I'm no longer able to run after being hit by that car in 2020.

This post was intended to be posted on 01/01/2024, but I got side tracked by many other things, both good and bad. I ended that year the way I started it: poor and yearning for a real freedom that I didn't think I yearned for.

I want to apologize to so many people for slopping my way through life like a slug. But I thank you for your patience and appreciation, no matter how small. After that scenario earlier, it's scared me from wanting to connect with people if I know that just a few months down the line they might be cheering for me to put another gun against the roof of my mouth.

On top of all of it, it seems atmosphere has gotten incredibly tense with anything lately. I've had a nasty run in with some people in a server who treated fellow autistic people like a dog because they were more autistic. I've seen friends and otherwise normal and good people get torn down over nonsense. I myself was the target of wise-spread harrassment several times, so it's not like this information is new to me. It's just more frequent of an issue from people who otherwise should know better.

My brain is a computer that is unable to process concepts like appreciation toward myself. I find myself looking at a reflection of myself and it keeps getting more distant, and the more distant gets the less we resemble each other. We just look like a distant blur to each other.

It's difficult for me to compute the concept of people appreciating me or liking me. I feel like everyone is delusional except for me. But to be conscious that I'm probably living the biggest delusion of it all... it's difficult.

When I got out of the hospital, everything was lined up for my success. The day I got a scheduled appointment to start hormone replacement therapy was the day Gov. Ron DeSantis signed SB254. Its intentions were to bar minors from undergoing the process (which, I shouldn't have to say but is already bad on its own), but that meant nurse practitioners were not able to provide me with anything. I'm 28 years old and have been trying to begin this process ever since I was 16. That is half of my life chasing a dream that everyone else seems to acquire with relative ease. I do not want to hear any "it gets better" or "soon you'll begin!" because I've been hearing them for half of my entire existence on this planet.

Some might look at this as a way to wax poetic about my troubles, but I hope that you look at this like me being completely honest. I don't like to talk to people as much anymore, but I do still like people. It's a conundrum. But I want to use this as a way to talk to people. To be honest in ways I was previously adverse to being. I'm a very pessimistic person and I feel like I have to lie to people because that kind of attitude is simply frowned upon. And I can't entirely blame them, either.

It's difficult for me to look toward the future with any optimism. But all I can do now is proceed. It's all I know how to do, apparently.