Suicide

If you are a transgender person, there is a 70% chance that you will consider killing yourself.

If you are a transgender person, there is a 50% chance that you will attempt it.

If you are a transgender person, there is a 30% chance you'll succeed.

When I first read these numbers, I didn't believe it.  I still have a hard time believing it.  The thought that one in three of the young trans* people I've met will kill themselves makes me want to vomit.  I always hope that the people I've met won't-they've had support, people who understand their experience.  But I don't really believe it.  

I've been fortunate enough that I have never been close to anyone who's actually done the deed.  I've met one or two in passing-at the time it's always seemed like just another random encounter.  Whenever I learn that I've met one of these people, I can't help but mourn them-I mean really mourn them.  I don't grieve for them because of loss-what destroys me is the idea of them-the idea that it can really happen to any of us, and just how fragile life can be for people like us.  Then, I become angry.  I'm angry at the world around them, the culture of bullying, discrimination, violence, and mental anguish that makes being transgender much, much harder.  

But most of all, I feel angry at them.

These people weren't murdered.  They weren't the victims of some terrible accident.  These people chose to end their own lives.  The problem of suicide in the transgender can't really be a cultural one-culture didn't kill these people.  So what can be done?

Suicide prevention hotlines and awareness rallies are good intentioned, but they will never be successful in the way they want to be.  Not all suicides are the same.  Some are acts of passion-rage, despair take over and people just can't...stop themselves.  Many fail.  A few succeed.  They can be helped by these things-for them, it's a rough road, but theres a chance for them to bounce back.

Sometimes, it can't be helped.  Sometimes, it's not a coward's act, it's not an act of passion.  It's a calm, disciplined thing.  It's an inevitability, a certainty.  In callous terms, these are the people who use guns.  Once someone reaches a crisis, has set this plan in place-I don't believe they can survive, not once they reach that point.

I'm not bothered by the people who stare at me-I can tolerate looking at their faces.  What people like me can't bear is looking down, or into a mirror-the root of our problems is not the way others treat us, it's the way we see ourselves.  There is a certain amount of innate self loathing that every trans person experiences-the knowledge that you might never be seen as yourself.  We don't want people to make us feel welcome or to offer us support.  Most of us don't want to be transgender people, we want to be normal.  We want this part of ourselves to disappear, to be able to go in public and know that nobody will ever find out unless you see fit to tell them.  Discrimination and unemployment are transient things, but this is not: I know when I pass and when I don't, and when I don't, there is a sudden surge of disgust and dissatisfaction.

What can be done?  To begin with, people like me should have access to medical resources.  Most people can't just pay for surgery; I've been trying to come up with it for ages now.  The opportunity to be seen as just another person, and to see yourself as what your brain keeps saying you ought to see is often the only relief.  If we can start younger, things would be easier.  I don't mean at five or three, but before puberty destroys any chance we have of being "normal".  The chance to just fit in is one that can save lives.  There need to be resources to facilitate transition-to facilitate it so that we can just go on with our our lives without having to pay any attention to our genders.  This isn't about making people feel better, it's about saving lives.