As always, I procrastinated in writing this. It’s just who I am. Give me two weeks to finish a project, and I’ll wait until the last couple days to actually work on it. A few weeks ago, I was trying to come up with something at the last minute. It was during this brainstorming that I decided to put on some music. Maybe that will clear my head enough. I started with a 90’s playlist, which began with an overrated Pearl Jam (yes, I’m side-eyeing you as I type this, Heather). With each new song, I began thinking of old songs I hadn’t heard for years. Next was some Linkin Park, especially Crawling. That got me thinking about their lead singer, the immensely talented Chester Bennington, who took his life just over 3 years ago. I began going down that rabbit trail, especially as it related to my depression and suicidal ideation, which took me finally to my go-to depression song. Hate Me by Blue October.
Prior to my transition, when Heather heard this song playing, she knew exactly what it meant. I would turn it on feeling confident that this was the time that I could listen without spiraling into that bottomless pit of depression. Every time, though, down into the pit I went.
While I was busy waging wars on myself You were trying to stop the fight You never doubted my warped opinions On things like suicidal hate You made me compliment myself When it was way too hard to take So I'll drive so fucking far away That I never cross your mind And do whatever it takes in your heart To leave me behind
Hate me today Hate me tomorrow Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you
Hate me in ways Yeah, ways hard to swallow Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you
These were the lyrics that always hit me hardest. So many times I begged Heather to leave me so she could be happy…so she could “finally see what’s good” for her. Now, this is not meant to be a downer of a post. This is cause for celebration, because as the song played, I once again noticed my newest companion make an unexpected visit…a smile. I didn’t spiral out of control, but instead I was happy. Depression no longer had its claws firmly implanted into me. This song was no longer a harbinger of darkness, but was now a sign of how far I’ve come since transitioning.
Which leads to my final point: To those people whose rejection, in the past, would have caused me to spiral out of control – the family, the best man, the TERFs, and basically anyone who could cut me to the core with mere words – your words have been rendered powerless to me. It’s not that my love for you has lessened. Sure, it has changed, but I still love you and pray for you to be released from the self-imposed captivity in which you find yourself. That hatred is your baggage to drag through life, not mine. I refuse to be shackled to it any longer. I pray that one day you’ll free yourself from it as well, because oh how beautiful life becomes once you do.