I don’t know how to navigate when things are bad & better. Starting testosterone was probably one of the most profound decisions I ever made for myself. It changed so much about my relationship to my body, so quickly, I’m not even sure I’m keeping up with it all. It cut out an entire layer of anxiety within me.
And between that & getting a job, I feel like so much of my internal self has fundamentally shifted. For years now, everything in me was driven by my shame & terror & sense of powerlessness that I didn’t have a job. Driven by a dysphoria that kept me so isolated & a belief that I could never, ever transition. These were my anchor points, my obsessions, the things that could fling me down into a motionless panic attack.
And then I would write. Out of desperation. It was my way of telling myself that it was okay that I didn’t have a job, I still had work to do. It was my way of countering my feelings of powerlessness. My book was my work.
But now I don’t have that motivation. I don’t have the familiar jabs of fear that lead me straight into determination & anger & focus.
And that’s good, right? That’s good? But then why does it feel so bad? Why do I feel so blank all the time, so depressed, so unmotivated to do anything?
I saw something recently about how people with ADHD use things like procrastination because they -need- anxiety to get things done. & it made me wonder if that’s why it’s such a common phenomenon for tranmascs starting t to experience their ADHD symptoms getting worse. You feel better & the feeling better means that you don’t have your anxiety constantly driving you.
I’m nearly a year on t. I got a job. And now I don’t know how to frame myself anymore. What do I want out of life? Where am I going?
I had so much hope all through the pandemic. So much stupid, stupid hope. When everything shutdown in 2020, I was anxious, but I was anxious with everyone else. It’s burned into my memory, the night in April when my partner & I were walking late into the night, realizing that everyone’s lights were on. Everyone was up late. Everyone was awake & anxious with us.
& it was okay, in my head, that it kept going. Through the goddamn smoke of September where we were trapped for days in our apartment, through the holiday seasons trying not to think about what other people were doing. Waiting for the vaccines. That’s all I was doing.
And then Spring 2021, I started testosterone & it felt like things were finally coming into place. I felt like I was breaking out of myself a little bit, & I got vaccinated & maybe there was an endpoint.
& then it felt like everything went wrong & confusing for awhile. I was terrified & confused & I didn’t understand anything & I felt it, that age old anxiety, the one that makes every muscle twitch preparing to run & I become laser focused & driven & maybe a little manic in my fear.
& then the summer ended & I was less confused but still scared, but not mad-dash scared & I just kind of crashed.
& the pandemic was still here, but maybe one more wave, right. The masks came back. That was okay. I could handle that. & then it was Fall & I was trying to swing this job. & then I did, & it felt like, okay, finally. Fucking finally. I can finally start doing all the things I’ve wanted to do that I thought I shouldn’t spend money on when I didn’t have a job.
& then the Covid next wave.
& it kind of broke me.
I feel like this is the first time I’ve really felt the grief of it all. For better & worse, I’m the kind of person who deals with mass scale tragedies like this by taking the selfish route—I don’t pay attention to other people’s deaths. I think about myself, & my small world & everyone around me being safe. But maybe it is because I have a job—because I get up frequently in the morning & don a mask for 12 hours a day—trying what I can do to make sure that a patron asking me a question doesn’t stand to close—maybe then it just got all too real.
& now that I’m finally reeling & scared & small, it feels like everyone has declared the pandemic over. & I want to be there with them, I want to. I want to go everywhere & do everything, I want to fling myself into the world, & I can’t. & it feels like I can’t precisely because everyone else is—there aren’t any good guidelines right now for what to do when it the mask mandate ends too early. What is actually safe? Where is actually okay to go, beside hunting down places that still require masks & proof of vaccination?
I don’t know how to plan for the future in this waiting game. I was thinking of going back to school this year—but that had been last year, when 2022 felt like it had to be the end of the pandemic. Now I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been waiting & waiting & waiting for so long, I don’t even know how to stop. Everyday feels like I’m trying to get to something that will help me finally be able to -do- something—work on my projects, go places, talk to people, be happy—but I never get there.
I think the problem I have isn’t just the lack of anxiety, but that it hasn’t been replaced by the drive of excitement. Those have the same pathways. Pre-pandemic it felt like zines were going to be My Thing—I wanted to table one year soon at one of the zine fests, I wanted to be a part of the whole thing—and then the pandemic.
I need a drive, a motivation, & without fear, without dread, without a rebellion against hopelessness, I don’t have anything. How does someone deal with being better? How does someone replace fury & fear with determination & anticipation? Where do you go, when things are better, but they’re also worse, but -you’re- better? How do you cope with getting better? Nobody’s ever said how.