Transgenders: Why is this an issue?

One day, our kids will ask us why this was an issue.  The way our parents asked our grandparents about racism.  The way we asked our parents about gay rights.  With embarrassment and a bit of shame, our children will be appalled that this was/is actually an issue.

Empathy is my middle name.  I play Devil's Advocate before I consider my own opinion.  Not to understand or agree, but to try to see your perspective... to have a rational discussion about an issue that, frankly, should not be an issue.

As I see it, there are two reasons people are so against this.

First, a pedophile/deviant could sneak into the bathroom of the opposite sex to assault a woman or child.

Second, gender by genetics is a trumps all reason that guarantees  bathroom admittance forever.

Both reasons are based on irrational fears.  And if you do some research, you'll see that there are already some areas, cities, and states that have allowed for understanding in this matter. 

So when I hear about these "stories" and "proof" that assaults have happened, I point to the places that have had a long standing freedom and ask them to find instances where these "stories" actually happened.

9 times out of 10, they don't.  If I provide a link, they don't click it.  I show that there has been no cases of these so called "trans perverts"... and the response is always the same.

If you have a penis, you go to the men's room.  If you have a vagina, you go to the ladies room.

Its an obstinate argument, to ignore facts and proof by simply shouting your narrow minded opinion over and over.  A bit brayish. 

The argument of genetic birth determining sex is akin to the argument that people choose to be gay.  With all the hatred and close minded people who flood our society, do you think people choose to be "different?"

It is a fact... we as humans gravitate towards the path of least resistance.  It's easier, less stressful, and a pack mentality is a natural ear mark of survival.  Its the weakest of the pack who are picked off, the strays that are left behind to fend for themselves.

I'm bipolar, and that sucks.  If I could will myself to be normal, God... I would have done it years ago.

You may not see the link there, but bear with me.

I'm not saying trans people should will themselves to identify as the gender on their birth certificate.  Quite the contrary.  I'm saying that they cannot.  What makes you like rock music and keeps me on an emotional roller coaster wasn't a choice.  And neither is looking in the mirror and seeing a sex different than the one denoted between your legs.

You can't will your brain to ignore what you feel, what you think, what you like, or who you truly are.  You are a person.  You have ideas and emotions that are a product of brain chemistry. 

That same bit of DNA that gave you that sex is the same DNA that makes you see that it's wrong.

Back to my point.  If the minority could choose to be like the majority, there would be no minority.  But as life is... I am different from you.  And you are different from her.  Not because of our body parts.  Because of who we are.

Let me be clear... transgenders shouldn't be ashamed for not identifying with the gender you deem fit.  Science's roll of the dice, boy or girl probabilities don't make a person who they are. 

The fact is, the other side of this argument is like a broken glass:  it just doesn't hold water.

A Life of Invisible Illness

Sad that there is still a stigma with these diseases/illnesses/disorders.  There are some who can't relate.  Others who haven't felt it.  But 8 years struggling with Bipolar, depression, and BPD changes perspective.  The family and friends who have seen it or heard the experiences.  Embarrassing stories... foolish mistakes.  The personal cost, the anguish, the fears, and the desire for something normal.  I've lost friends.  But there were many who stood by.  They didn't have to.  So when someone has something cruel to say... or cracks a joke... I focus on the ones who are here.  Because although they may not fully understand my illness... they never stopped with their support or love.

It was embarrassing to admit that I couldn't work.  More than once people would crack a joke... "Whoa, you don't have to work?  Lucky!  Wish I was bipolar."  And I'd laugh it off.  People would say, "Do you just play video games all the time?"  Lol, sometimes.  To get my mind off things.  But most days?  In those first few years, especially?  I was in month old dirty pajama pants, lying on a couch, so depressed that moving from my room to the couch was an accomplishment.  Getting through the day without wanting to breakdown and cry was a feat.  My goal.  Ignoring voices telling me that everyone would be better off if I was... well.

Picking up a video game controller was a rarity.

I had friends come to me, asking me to teach them how to "fake" bipolar.  To get SSDI.  I wish I was making that up.

So I answered them the same way, everytime.

"First, stop living your life.  Stop going to work.  Stop seeing your friends.  Panic anytime you step out the door.  Lose your significant other.  More than once.  Put your family through the stress of never knowing which "Mike" they'll encounter that day.  Is he going to joke?  Will he smile?  Or is he going to spend 6 months sleeping on a living room couch?  If your friends come visit, tell them you don't want to see them.  If family comes over, hide in your room.  If your phone rings, shut it off and cry.  Try to date, knowing 98% of them will go horribly.  Knowing the fact that your lack of a job makes you worthless to them.  Because they tell you that.  Put your family through the fear that they could wake up to find a corpse in your bed.  Or maybe not finding you at all.  Lose your mind.  Get years of hospitalization under your belt.  Lose your dream job of serving in the military. Forever. Those are just the lows." 

"Highs will cost you far more.  Your brain will fry.  You'll feel stupider.  Thinking will become slower... nearly impossible at times.  Your memory will suffer.  Risk losing your only child.  Risk losing your sanity for the rest of your life.  Spending your life institutionalized and worse yet... not even knowing what you lost.  Because logic and rationality is gone.  Just like everything that used to make you, you."

It took years before I stopped shaming myself for disorders I didn't choose and can't control.  My case was so dire at certain points, that ECT came up more than once.  Memory loss is a given with that option.  Losing months of memories with my daughter was not worth the "possible" bettering of the situation.  The practice is akin to blood letting or lobotomy.

I would gladly give up government aid if it meant I could be normal.  So... no.  I won't "teach you."  You're making a mockery of those who have the illness. For a few measly dollars?

It took years.  But I really did use jokes to get through this.  Smiled instead of spiraled at judgemental people's remarks.  And though it took many years, I'm on the cusp of returning to work soon.

To go from crying at the thought of being forced to work to living your life again... to anticipating a career... it has been indescribable.

You know a bipolar person who works?  Great.  You know twenty?  Phenomenal.  I do too.  Honestly, I personally know a large number of bipolar people who work, and only three who never can again. 

Luckily, I won't be number four.

I wish I could be mad when someone tells me to suck it up and work.  That I can work and have actively chosen not to.  But honestly... I'm not.  Because it wasn't the worthless feeling garnered by others that was the hardest part.  Nothing anyone has ever said comes close to the worst things I've heard. 

The worst degradation, torment, and judgements came from me.  I told myself I was worthless for years.  Anything you have to say to me doesn't come close to the hell I have put myself through every day.

I worked hard and am continuing to in order to seize my life back.  I'm happy that I'm eager to live and work for the first time in 8 years. 

Still... a man shouldn't be judged by his station in life.  He should be judged by his core.  By his heart.

I'm strong, caring, and lucky.  And I have a ton of people to thank for that.

Don't judge a man by an illness you can't see or understand.  You have no idea what he has given up or lost because of it.