The Journey of a Recovering Agender Person

Let's Get You Up To Date

Wow I did not expect the overwhelmingly positive response to this journal. Thank you so much for the support. Also above is an updated photo of me :)
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So I haven't really spoken to any of you since May. Let me tell you that obviously a LOT has happened in that time. So let's just start around where I left you all at the end of the last book.

I'll put the trigger warning here for depression, suicide mention, self harm mention, eating problems and food mention.

I was getting so so bad again. So bad I actually cringe to think about some of the things I did/said/wrote. I have a whole unpublished book with nearly 70 parts full of poetry and stories and songs that are all so depressing and sad and awful. I have a whole unpublished story in another book that was an accurate representation of what it feels like when I'm disassociating. All of these things, I go back and look at them and I think now 'wow, I was really depressed, I should have sought help sooner'. But I wasn't in the right mindset to do that.

At the time I left you I was just starting to fall back into a really bad pit of depression. I felt suicidal again, I was self harming, and I wasn't telling anyone. I wasn't even telling Ronnie, and every time they found out because I couldn't keep it in anymore was devastating to them and me. I left because I didn't want to harm all of you. But it left me to harm Ronnie pretty much every day.

By the time school ended, I didn't care about anything anymore. I didn't care if I failed another test, I didn't care if I lived or died, I just cared about Ronnie. I surprisingly didn't fail my exams, which honestly was a very big surprise to me. And after school ended, I gave it that week before I started working more at my job.

In the beginning I was really only working maybe four days a week. I averaged about 16 hours a week, and I was doing alright. I still deeply hated myself and wished desperately for a predetermined date to come so that I could finally just not be here anymore.

During this time, I had made a promise to Ronnie that I would seek help by the end of June. The end of June came and went, and I broke another promise to Ronnie. It was like every day was just something else. Everything was really putting a strain on our relationship. At multiple points, Ronnie said to me that they were considering leaving me or 'breaking up' with me for their own health, not because they didn't love me. And every time they said that, I thought it was opening up my eyes to how much I was affecting them. But I just went back to doing the same old things again and again.

Finally, the first of July came. I had taken the 1-9 of July off from work, because I was going on vacation from the 2-9 to New Jersey, and on the 1 we were having my sister's birthday/graduation party. I was relieved to get up and not have to work.

The party came and went, and I frantically packed a whole bunch of stuff into a suitcase the night before. The morning was hectic, and the ride there was hell, but at least this year we had air conditioning in the house.

Vacation was...

Well, vacation was hell.

It was me, my oldest sister, my oldest brother and my sister in law and niece, my older sister, my older brother, and my parents. 9 people, all of us staying in the same house.

We really didn't have every day planned out to a t. We just kind of winged it, going day to day and deciding what we wanted to do. They went to the beach a lot of days, and I am not a beach person. I stayed behind one day with my oldest sister and I am really glad I could reconnect with her. She's very kind and understanding and accepting, and it felt really nice to talk to her. But most of the time, as I was the youngest child besides my niece, I became the butt of every joke, the one that was constantly picked on, and the one who always walked behind or was left out.

Once vacation was over, I was thrown right back into having to work. Now it was 6 days a week, averaging 25 hours a week. One legally required break day. My paychecks were getting fatter, but I was getting more worn to the core.

Finally, 3 or so days after vacation ended, I gave a letter to my parents that I had been working on perfecting.

My letter asking for help.

I almost backed out. I left the letter on their bed and they got it when they were about to go to sleep. I could have taken it away, but I didn't.

The following conversation was not easy. I felt like so much of a bother, like I was asking for too much. They made it seem like they understood, but they didn't think I have mental health issues. They just think I needed to talk to someone to work things out.

But it's ok.

After I gave them the letter, my mom got me in to test out a therapist two days later and get a blood test done. This lady... she was wacky and weird. She was close to home but I didn't like her. She creeped me out really, and I felt uncomfortable, even though I poured my heart out basically to her to try and lay it out on the table. I told my mom I didn't want to go with her. She found someone else.

When the blood test came back, my mom put me on a strict diet of foods to help with depression. We really only had maybe 5 of those things in our whole house, so my not eating habits got worse. I ate maybe two small 'meals' a day, which consisted of mostly snack foods until I was full. From the end of January to now I've lost probably 10-15 pounds. It was... not fun.

So this second person. I went to speak with her and... it felt like we really clicked. Like she really understood my problems and what I needed help on. The appointments are early, but it's worth it.

For about a week I was actually genuinely feeling slightly better. I was having normal conversations with Ronnie again and it was perfect. And then of course, I fell down once again.

But I kept getting back up. It was very up and down the first few weeks, until I finally, finally realized something important.

I am alive. I am still here to experience all of my emotions, happy or sad, good or bad. And it's ok to just sit at home and do nothing some days, because I am still alive. I am still here, still breathing, still fighting, my heart still beating. And that is what matters.

Sure, I still have some good and some bad days, but you know what? I have my therapist to help me, and I just keep going to sleep to wake up and start again.

I matter. You matter. Everyone matters. That's what I've come to realize and see. And I hope you will too on this journey with me.

That's all from me for now.

Markie out.