This week I came close to a crash and burn, by Friday I was not in a good place and in fact my mind was going to places where it hadn’t been in a long time.
I realised that things were getting bad when on Friday morning while washing my face in the kitchen sink (still don’t have an indoor bathroom) I had serious thoughts of just reaching over to the knife block and pulling out a knife from it and cutting my arm. The thought passed in a flash but just the fact that my mind went there was scary, I’m still here and I’m coping better today but I need to process how I got to this point.
Over the last few months work has been pretty stressful, there are a number of factors, but somehow it has ended up with several projects all coming to a head in the next couple of weeks with compressed timescales, and some significant technical hurdles to overcome. This has meant a lot of chopping and changing and juggling with other day to day issues that we have to deal with.
Then Friday morning the bombshell hit, this was a front pager article in the Daily Telegraph, now I’m used to the regular Sunday morning hate piece from the Times but for some reason this was personal. As many of you may know I worked at the Telegraph for a number of years and while I was there I was very open about that fact that I was a trans woman. To see this transphobic article on the front page felt like a betrayal, now I know it has been 11 years since I left for Spain, but it will always have a soft spot in my heart due to the acceptance and respect I felt there.
I realised that I am once again teetering on the edge of a complete burnout, so I will take a rest this weekend and try and stave off the worst, until I can find a longer term solution.
This week I came close to a crash and burn, by Friday I was not in a good place and in fact my mind was going to places where it hadn’t been in a long time.
During the festive break it customary to look back over the past year and put down a few words. Well one thing I can say about 2018 is that it has been quite a ride this year.
When the year started I had no idea quite the way it was going to pan out, it started innocently enough with just work to think about.
Shortly after returning from a trip to the UK I decided that I was finally ready to do something that I had thought about for quite a while, and I announced on April 1st of all dates that I had decided to write a memoir of my life and experiences, I set myself the goal of completing it for the following year and after a bit of research, decided that I would aim for a figure of around 100 thousand words.
I had only just started to write some basic word bits and pieces while staying at a hotel to celebrate Helens birthday I decided to just check up on family on Facebook, I wasn’t friends with my sister on Facebook but I knew how to find her profile through the search. From there I could jump off to other family members to see what was going on, when I did this I got a shock, there was a picture of Sarah in a wedding dress, I knew this photo was a couple of years old as it was what she wore when she renewed her vows a couple of years previously. This piqued my interest so I clicked on the comments, as I read them my heart sank, it was all “we are sorry for your loss” and other platitudes like that, the sort of thing you would write if someone had died. So I reached out to make contact, my fears were confirmed, my sister had collapsed a day or so previously and had died.
A few days later I was back on the plane to the UK, not knowing when I was coming back or what would happen there in the UK, by this time I was back into contact with several members of my family that I hadn’t spoken to in 20 years.
Over the next few days I had several tense and nervous reunions with long lost family members and catching up on the past 20 years, it was a period of very mixed emotions. I also a had a very brief encounter with my step mother, who now suffers from dementia and most of the time wasn’t even aware of who I was, then just for one brief moment there was like a flash of clarity and she said “Oh so your a woman now”, the patronising tone of voice and the inflections were there and instantly I was transported back to being a teenager. Then like a fleeting summer shower it was gone and she was back to asking where I lived again for the tenth time.
During this period I got to take a little break for myself in Brighton and was able to meet up with one or two people that I had only know on twitter, or I hadn’t met in a long time, the night ended with me escorting a distinguished trans author bake to her hotel via the search for chips.
Sarah’s funeral was hard, on so many levels, and at the reception afterwards I felt a little uncomfortable, nobody was outwardly transphobic to my face but I know there were whispers and comments made while I was out of earshot.
I had no sooner got back to La Palma when I was off on a mother plane this time just across the water to Tenerife to go and see Status Quo in concert.
June and July were filled with Pride related events, such as painting one of the benches in the town square with the pride flag colours to match the trans flag bench we had painted previously. Then there was the big parade, and me speaking to the assembled crown of a few hundred from the balcony, one of the proudest moments of the year, this year I really upped my trans activism, and it felt good to be doing things again. I had wanted to be able to get to the Uk and go to the Trans Pride event in Brighton but logistics wasn’t easy, so I had to unfortunately miss it this year.
In October I sent Helen off to help her daughter Rachel out in New Zealand and a month or so later I two joined her there and spent a few weeks in New Zealand, including a train journey across the north island.
Even with all this global travel I continued to write the book which I finished the 1st draft at the beginning of December, I then put it to one side so that I could start editing in the New Year. But I didn’t get a chance to rest on my laurels as I was required to don my activists hat ( and one of my acquisitions this year was a very nice purple fedora hat, which incidentally has it’s own twitter account @goodtranshat ) and I will be representing trans people at a roundtable discussion tomorrow night, that is after I appeared on the radio yesterday to promote the event.
What will 2019 hold? well that could be the source of another whole blog post, I want to improve the way I work to make it less taxing on my mental health, and of course edit and publish the book.
When I first came to Spain back in 2007, I didn’t get a formal introduction to the Doctor as I think I was working at the time. So I didn’t get my current medication that I had from the UK transferred over, and I thought I would be OK. I’d been taking hormones since 1998 and I didn’t think that it was urgent to sort out right away, and I would sort it out later, well one thing lead to another and it never happened, even when I started to be treated for high blood pressure it I never brought it up.
A couple of years ago when I started to realise that I had slipped into a depressive state and started to take action to deal with it, I decided that as well as an antidepressant ( I initially started on st. John’s wort) I would try and take some thing that was as close to a hormone that I could get, I found something that was based on a soja extract. The combination of these two did help to stabilise my mood and make it a little bit easier to get things under control.
A few weeks ago just before I left for New Zealand I decided that I would approach the doctor and ask if she could put me back on hormones properly. At first she said that she would have to send me to the hospital so that they could do a ultrasound to check what was going on with my ovaries, I gave a chuckle at this point and explained that wouldn’t do any good, which got a blank look from the GP, So I took an intake of breath and explained that I was trans, etc, etc. She said she would give me hormones, but required a blood test first, This would have to wait until I returned as I was leaving in a few days and wouldn’t be back for about 3 weeks. So on my return I got the tests done and then went back to speak to the doctor, only this time I get a different doctor, and she said that she can’t do it and refers me to the endocrinologist at the central hospital on the island.
So I wait a few weeks to get a phone call from the hospital with an appointment, So at the required time I arrive at the hospital. When I finally get into the talk to the endocrinologist, she’s a little confused as to why I’m there, so I explain. It turns out that for some reason the original doctor totally screwed up the blood tests and referral it was down on the system as hyperthyroidism which is not right at all, and that there were no hormone levels on the blood test, only the thyroid hormone levels.
Then she drops that bombshell, that she can’t put me on hormones as a trans woman without approval from the specialist gender clinic in Tenerife so she sent them a referral. So once again 20 years later, I’m back on a waiting list for an appointment with a gender clinic.
This a typical thing across the globe with any form of trans healthcare, had I been a cis woman presented at an endocrinologist with these hormone levels, then I would have been on HRT right away, but because I’m trans I have to jump through the hoops like a performing seal once again. There is an expression of the trans broken leg where you go for treatment of a completely unrelated medical condition, but it’s gets complicated or made harder just you are trans.
So hopefully sometime in the new year I’ll get a phone call and then I can take a flight over to Tenerife and continue the next step in the journey. It will be interesting to experience the gender clinic process in a new country.
I had a friend delete their twitter account today before I had the chance to pass on my contact details. This upset me, and I know why I care too much.
I felt I had gotten to know this person and we had conversed over twitter for a few weeks. I scrambled to send them my phone number and email before they deleted but I was too late, why the mad panic, because I recognised from the preceding tweets a pattern of behaviour that made me worry.
Why does it make me worry, because I’ve see it before, the exasperation , the giving up of hope, it’s there in the the language used. As a trans person and the partner of a trans person, and having had trans friends, I’ve had plenty of practice. The many times that Helen has ended up being hospitalised after a crisis. I myself have been in that position and luckily my friend Kym was able to call me and talk me through things when I was lying sobbing on the kitchen floor, I thankfully have been able to return the favour to her in that respect as well.
So I know know that this person is out there alone possibly slumped on the floor sobbing, I wish I could reach down the internet pipes and hold them and let them know it’s going to be OK.
Recently I watched the amazing, raw and thought provoking comedy special by Hanna Gadsby “Nanette”, and in it there is a line “I just identify as tired”, well that is how I feel. I’m tired..
Now I considered writing what I have to write as a thread on twitter, but I don’t think I’d have the space or the patience to cram everything down into 280 character bite sized morsels, so I’ve decided to dust of the blog and put it all down in here. Some of the things I’m going to say in here could be quite raw, so I’ll warn you now, there may be trouble ahead.
As I said at the beginning I’m tired, what is making me tired? Well it would be quicker to list what isn’t making me tired, but that wouldn’t be as interesting. So I will attempt to tackle each one in turn and try and get each one off my chest and hopefully find a way to move on.
The first thing is work, now I know there is one hell of an oxymoron complaining about work when I’m the boss, but that comes with its own set of problems, and to be honest I’ve created the problem myself. We have a reputation for delivering a great service to our clients, but as business has grown that has become increasingly difficult to deliver, and of course this taps into my fear that it’s all going to come crashing down around my ears. So I become more and more stressed about delivering projects, and with this my productivity plummets, as when stressed I have difficulty concentrating and making decisions, which leads to things taking longer, which reinforces the stress of not delivering. I need to break this cycle before I burnout, and go down in a blaze of glory. I’ve spent the last 5 years building everything up to where it is now, but I must take a step back and rethink the way I handle things to avoid a disaster. So I’ve stepped back a bit and I am resting for a few days to recharge the batteries so that I can tackle things anew.
The next thing is one that I can’t do a lot about, as it’s out of my control, I have absolutely no say in the matter at all, and that is BREXIT. Yes i’ve said it. With the UK looking increasingly likely to dive of a cliff, with no deal in place. This concerns me on several levels, as I have a number of business connections with the UK, any impact on the UK economy will have knock on effects for me, in fact it all ready has with the value of the pound dropping. Then there is the fact of my right to remain, theoretically as I have been here for a number of years I will have the right to remain in the EU, but with the UK crashing out, I have no idea of the implications, and of yet we have had no real communication of what we will have to do to maintain our residency. It’s that continued level of insecurity about the future that eats away and causes stress.
Then there is the transphobia that permeates society, predominantly in the UK and US, thankfully Spain has it to a much lesser degree. There isn’t a Sunday goes by when I don’t see another article full of outright lies and invented problems that are heaped at the foot of trans people, when groups are actively campaigning to deny access to spaces that we have been in without issue for years. Now you could say oh just ignore social media and let it be, but I can’t because I care, ever since I read about the death of Leelah Alcorn in the US I have made the decision to be an out trans woman and show the world what we can achieve. Now this has had some great moments and I was extremely proud to stand on the balcony at a local pride celebration here on the island and deliver an address to the crowd. But it hurts, every time I open social media and see people being personally attacked and hurt, and the inaction of companies like Mumsnet and Twitter in dealing with epidemic levels of transphobia on their platforms.
And family, for years I got by without connection to my own family, then in April my sister died aged 51, this resulted in me going back to the UK and reconnecting with family. That in itself was a process which induced a level of stress, having had little contact with them, although they were aware of me, and what had happened, I had no idea of what their expectations were, or even how they felt about me. Some members of the family have accepted unconditionally, some I get the feeling not so much. Then there is the thing that one half of them aren’t talking to the other half, and the petty squabbles that seem to plague our family, this hurts at times, and with the distance I’m not always in a position where I can help when needed.
And finally there is the elephant in the room, me. Apart from the fact that I am overweight and unfit, I have some issues. When I came out as trans twenty years ago, I put a lot of emotional things in storage and concentrated on getting the transition and all that out of the way. Only now am I really in the position where I am comfortable enough to start to deal with some of them. This was the aim of writing the book, to open up all these things and put them down on paper and elaborate on the consequences of these past traumas, in doing so I am learning a lot about the origins of some of my fears and doubts, but it is a draining process and not being a skilled writer it has been hard to get into the flow of writing. That then also feeds into the anxiety of not getting enough done and obsessing about not completing the targeted words per month, I don’t have a publishing deal with a deadline, so the only pressure to do it in a certain time comes from me, I want to do it and I will do it. But I have to accept that it will be done when it is done.
I also have to accept the fact that I’m depressed, and I have been for many years. I have gotten very good at hiding it behind a public face of bravado and false confidence, but deep down inside that little voice keeps nagging at me, undermining me at every turn. The last year or so I’ve started to get very serious panic attacks. I need to look seriously at dealing with this issue and that in itself could be problematic here on a small island.
So there it is I’m tired, and those are some of the reasons, I don’t have all the answers yet to solve the issues and some I just have to wait and see. But it’s all here out in the open for all to see, I hope I can keep you updated as I make progress.