I’m continuing to read Diana’s old Facebook posts, and it still seems that the overarching issue here was economics, the fear of losing everything and having to start over again, the fear of facing homelessness (or being dependent on others or systems) for the 7th time in her life.
Please don’t tell me this wasn’t really about ‘soul-crushing job rejections’ that would likely have made the other hard stuff in the world a whole lot easier to bear.
Most people have no clue what Diana went through in her life, or what many trans folks (and especially sex workers) have to endure.
I long for a day when our community is trauma-informed, and when those with hiring power make hiring decisions that factor in marginalization.
On November 30th, 2016, she wrote:
also, trigger warning. Not for the squeamish
It was really nice to put all my bullshit on hold for a week, and go on that cruise. When we planned it a year ago, I had no idea whether or not I’d be able to afford it when the time came.
Bullshit is no longer on hold. Reality is back.
This year has been really hard. Mental health issues, relationship struggles, walking away from the last family I had, burn-out with survival sex work, soul-crushing job rejections, the collapse of the low & mid range internet escort market due to the war on whores & our advertising platforms, Pulse, epidemic trans murders, sick friends, dying friends, dead friends – just to get started on my list of difficult. Add to that all the proxy trauma of being aware of the oppression and suffering of folks I care about, and people I don’t even know. It’s a lot.
I wasn’t actually able to afford this trip (though it didn’t cost much at all), just like I haven’t been able to afford rent for the last few months. I’ve put most of my living expenses on credit cards (including rent), and now almost all of them are in default.
On a bright note, my mental health seems to have stabilized. The meds, and a really good therapist, have done me a lot of good. But I feel like it’s too little too late.
I’ve been through losing everything and starting over plenty of times. I’ve been homeless 6 times in my life. I’ve been married, divorced, raised and lost families, then made more. And I’ve lost my sanity twice.
Honestly, I don’t know if I want to keep on doing this thing called life. I’ve been in existential crisis over what it means or doesn’t mean to go through losing everything and starting over again, potentially going into the shelter system, and trying to get on disability. If that’s a life that I even want to live. Or spending the next months/years couch surfing. Or becoming dependent on someone who loves me enough to take me in.
I see in other countries how people with chronic illnesses and even just unbearable trauma are able to access physician assisted suicide, and die with dignity, surrounded by the people they love. I wish that this were an option for me. I hate that my option for ending things would have to be secretive, alone, and either violent or unlikely to succeed.
Anyway, I haven’t given up yet. Yet. Only a few doors and windows left to check though. The set of constrained choice is fairly minuscule right now. Watching, waiting, hustling, and getting my featherless ducks in a row.