2020, you shady bee with an itch

 It's not always toy soap opera posts around here!

I've been quiet lately. Well, quiet on social media. Offline I can't shut up. But social media has been a tricky place for me, especially in 2020. I think we can collectively agree that this year has been a lot. Nothing against those other years, some of y'all were tough too, but 2020 takes the cake. And smashes that cake against a wall. 

Now don't get me wrong, there have been some nice things to happen this year. The most recent being that we will have a new president and vice president in 2021. I'm ready for this. The past four years have been an exercise in keeping up with lunacy, it has not been easy. I know that the current president has his supporters and people that think he has hung the moon. I do not get it and I never will. 

I am hopeful though that the new leadership in 2021 will get this country back on track. That the pandemic will be treated with more consistency. That there will be steps towards dismantling social injustice. While we're on dismantling, I'm all about an administration dismantling negative ideas around climate change and actually making this a cleaner planet for many more generations! And it would be nice to live in a country with really great healthcare for everyone. I don't think that is too crazy, and the government might not be able to solve those issues in four years, but I at least feel like Biden and Harris can move us in the right direction. If anything I hope that they reunite all of those kids who were separated at the border back with their parents. 

I could go on and on, but this post is not meant to be a political one. Although the personal is always political. I'm a trans woman, so by nature there is a difficulty in avoiding politics. There's no digging my head in the sand and just pretending like I can breeze by in life. There are politicians and legislators who would love to pass laws that make my life and the lives of other transgender people more difficult. 

I need to focus on the topic. I don't know what my place is on social media anymore. I love posting my toy stories. I love talking about toys and what I'm collecting or what I fondly recall adoring. This year it just feels different. I feel myself being more withdrawn. And this is due to a lot of things. Not just the pandemic or the craziness in D.C. Or the racism, transphobia, and homophobia that runs so rampant in this country. 

There has been a wave of depression I have been experiencing this year and I have not really talked about it. I think it is depression. I don't honestly know, which is really sad because I am a therapist, so you think I'd know these things. 

When I was married, my ex-husband and I were reaching a place in our marriage where talk of starting a family was beginning to happen. Rather, I was bringing it up and trying to get the ball rolling. I was in my late twenties and I felt we were at the perfect age to begin the process of fostering/adoption or finding a surrogate. I knew that the process for starting a family was going to take time and we needed to start planning. 

I know motherhood is not for everyone, but for me, I felt a yearning to be a mom. To have a family. It was something I saw so clearly for myself. The process was maybe not as clear, like how it would come together, but I saw that life. I was so ecstatic over the idea of adopting. I just knew that the universe would connect us with a child who would be ours, even if there was no blood relation. 

My ex-husband was not on the same page. He wanted children biologically. Adoption was something he was not interested in. He was also struggling with his own issues, his own double life, and once I knew the depths of his secrets, it just became a betrayal that I could not bounce back from. The marriage ended. This was around the end of 2013.

This was a new beginning for me though. I strengthened my career, learned and grew as a professional. Eventually put myself back out into the dating world. Marriage was not exactly on the forefront of my mind, but by this point I was well into my thirties and I knew what my ultimate goal was. To meet someone that would be a great fit and would want to work towards the goals of having a family. 

Not to spoil anything, but I am getting real close to 40 and I am nowhere near where I thought I would be in terms of having a family. Which is fine, everyone has their own path and time line. However as time goes by I am beginning to realize that I might not become a mom. And I am processing that.

So, in March of this year, right before our lives would be going into lockdown, I was waiting for my stylist at her hair salon. I was going to be off for Spring Break and I wanted a new 'do. While waiting I popped open my phone and was scrolling through FaceBook when I saw a post. My ex-husband and I still share mutual friends on FB and there was a tagged post featuring a rather joyous celebration. My ex and his new wife had legally adopted two siblings. I had heard that they were fostering to adopt.

A couple years ago I had to sign divorce papers. Technically our marriage had not been legal, but after the Supreme Court ruled in favor of marriage equality, he needed us to officially sign divorce papers otherwise if they adopted I could have somehow sued or tried to interfere with their adoption process. I don't quite understand all of that, but regardless, I am not the kind of person that would have ever posed a problem. So, the marriage had never been legal, but those divorce papers sure were.

Anyways, when I saw that post, I just felt like my stomach had dropped. Like when you are on a rollercoaster. I smiled and was friendly to my stylist, but I was fighting as hard as I could to not break down. I was not jealous. I was actually happy for them, happy that their two really sweet kids would have a loving home. I was just sad because I couldn't understand what had been wrong with me that he had not wanted a family with me. And I was sad because I was still no where close to having that kind of life for myself. There was also some anger. Anger at how he hurt me and anger out how I was still unable to be where I wanted to be. 

What happened next was what one would think. I spiraled. Had moments where I was not eating then I'd switch and just binge and eat terribly. So much so that my doctor is now monitoring some bloodwork and if I can't get my shit together I am going to be on some heavy duty heart medication and I want to avoid that at all costs.

Aside from my issue with food I also bounced between being unable to sleep or wanting to stay asleep for as long as possible. If I wasn't working I was usually in bed shutting the rest of the world out. I know part of this was in reaction to the pandemic and just the world falling apart, but it was really a lot of things. I'd stay up looking over their social media accounts. I'd listen to a podcast they were on about their adoption journey. I would save pictures that his new wife would post of the dog he and I had together, and then lose it when I found out that the dog passed over the summer. I was a fucking mess. I became someone else. Someone I did not like. 

I have moments where I want to really scream. I want to yell at him and demand to understand why he treated me the way that he did. Why he never felt the need to apologize for his actions. Yell about my fears of letting myself fully trust someone because I have built some pretty tough guards around myself. And those guards will fight, or they will help me take flight. I want to also yell at myself, about my inability to just let this hurt go. But at some point I have to recognize that there is more to life than just my pain right?

Like, I am not at a place where I dare even dream of some hope, but I am also aware that I have a stake in my own happiness. That it is up to me. And that is what I have been going through and processing this year. 

I am eating better. I'm losing some weight. Fingers crossed my bloodwork will be better at my next check up and I can shock the hell out of my doctor. I still have moments where I can't sleep, or if I do sleep I still just end up wide awake struggling to get up and face the day. I do face the day though. I have clients that need someone to listen to them. Now more than ever and I want to be there for them. I have moments of body dysmorphia that fuck with my brain too much. I'll get on an obsessive kick where I think my hands are too big. Or that I am losing my breasts. Or that part of my face is starting to melt on one side. It makes no sense! Part of my face melting? What is that? I don't remember watching the ark open.

I've been getting rid of a big chunk of my collection. I fear that owning a massive collection will prevent me from getting married and having a kid. Like, what man is going to want to raise a child with the crazy toy lady? It was getting so bad that I had just a tiny little pathway to get to my bed. Normally I am on top of those things and my collection does not get out of hand, but this year has been playing some games.

And I feel so silly for sharing all of this. But I feel like I have to. I've got to just share it, even if no one reads it.

Anyways, I am rambling way too much. If I don't post as much or seem quiet, it's just me dealing with stuff. I'm gonna try to get some more toy stories posted, because those have been keeping me sane in all this madness. I'm also incredibly thankful for the online friendships I have made since starting this blog. I really enjoy seeing how you are all doing and the adventures and various things you all do with your lives. It's nice. So, I hope you are all doing well. Hugs.