I'm 22, I suffer from gender dysphoria, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to die soon.
I’m not really sure how to begin this campaign letter. I hate myself for being such a burden on society and asking this of you, but I desperately, desperately need you.
I need help.
I thought I’d have a place to stay while recovering from suicidal depression, but that offer dissolved and now I can’t afford my rent.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve hated my body, and I’ve hated my life. A suicide attempt at age 15 landed me in a mental hospital against my will, and I have struggled ever since then with severe depression and the knowledge that I’ll never be able to work hard enough to afford gender reassignment surgery. I also know I don’t want to go back to a hospital. But my depression is so painful and consistent that I can’t work for more than a couple months at a time.
My father doesn’t understand my illness. He constantly tells me that life is the same whether you’re a man or a woman. In January, he required me to go to school full time, work full time — all while confronting my gender dysphoria for the first time in therapy twice each week. I couldn’t take it, so I moved into an apartment with a friend and got an IT job.
I enjoyed living on my own, and briefly felt what it was like to become independent; however, a few months later, I was overwhelmed by the stress of my daily obligations. I was hit with another major depressive episode. So one day, I drove 120 mph down the highway with the intention of using one of my father’s guns to end my own life. I became suicidal.
My father wasn’t home, so I had no access to his guns. The next few days are a blur. My father found out about the episode and decided that he had been too harsh on me before. He told me that he might be able to offer my friend and me a place to stay while I recover from my depression, and that he could probably help me out with rent before moving if I needed him to.
I saw his offer as an alternative to suicide. I immediately quit my job — I couldn’t handle it anymore. Confessing all of this to my friend and roommate was difficult, but he was very understanding in the end. We planned to move into my father’s house in two weeks; however, last Friday, my father took back his offer. He sat me down at lunch and told me he thought I was causing my own depression.
Now I have to pay $650 for my rent and utilities in two weeks, before August 4, and I’ll need about $100 for food. But I have no income. I am still recovering from the last huge depression wave, so working is going to be nearly impossible for me. However, even if I do manage to get a job within the next two weeks, I won’t get paid for the work soon enough to pay rent.
My friend cannot afford to pay for my portion of the rent. I feel like I fucked him over and I have no one to turn to. If I don’t manage to find $750 in the next two weeks, I will be homeless and hungry. And I don’t think I’ll have the will to survive.
Over the next month, I’m going to look for alternative employment options like work-from-home opportunities, and I’m going to try to apply for Supplemental Security Income benefits for depression to help me get by, as well as part-time employment. However, in order to work on all of this, I’m going to need to have a home for the month of August.
I’m so sorry to ask this of you — I really wouldn’t ask if I didn’t desperately need it. But there’s some part of me that wants to live. I feel like I want to try and I am going to need help getting through this. Anything that you can give will help me. All donations will go toward my rent for August and utilities and food.
Thank you so much for your altruism, empathy, and kindness.