“I've come to hate my body
And all that it requires in this world…"
I struggle every day with self-hate. My health has taken such a steep nosedive that I often find myself feeling bitter and resentful. And there’s no one to be resentful at, so it ends up getting dumped on my own head. I’m my own worst bully.
There is so much work involved, now, in my upkeep. In keeping me alive.
Many of the things I love have been taken from me. I was an Argentine tango instructor. Now I have to sit down frequently because I get dizzy just standing. My favorite activities used to be whitewater rafting and skydiving. Now I can’t even garden.
It feels like loss. Like I’m watching possibilities pass me by — possible futures that will never be.
“I'm gonna watch the bluebirds fly
Over my shoulder
I'm gonna watch them pass me by
Maybe when I'm older…”
The only thing I hope for now is that I’ll come to accept my circumstances and be at peace.
I no longer hope to ‘get better’ in the future. This is better. It only gets worse from here.
That statement is simple truth; it’s not pessimistic, it’s what I have to accept. I must.
And let’s be real… I’m in my 40s. The only thing I hope for now is that I’ll come to accept my circumstances and be at peace.
There is an old Tori Amos song I used to think about a lot… about her waiting for the ‘wild horses’ — her future — to arrive; waiting, and waiting, and waiting, only to find that the future had gone on without her.
“I'd like to know completely
What others so discreetly talk about…”
My autism wasn’t diagnosed until very recently. I’ve known for a long, long time that I am neurodivergent (and that it went beyond ADHD). Knowing now that my neurodivergence includes autism explains so many things that I have found baffling my entire life. I just couldn’t understand things that seemed to come to everyone else effortlessly.
If I’m honest, I still find a lot of allistic behaviors completely opaque. But now, at least I know it’s not just me being a weirdo that makes them so.
“I hate the quiet places
That cause the smallest taste of what will be…”
For the longest time, I couldn’t stand taking showers without a podcast playing. I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts. They would torture me. They would paralyze me. I would freeze, unable to move for long periods of time.
Lately, I’ve been purposefully giving myself time to be in the quiet by myself (or, not quiet exactly — I like the consistent background noise of the shower). In the shower is where I first thought about writing this. It’s where I think of many things.
“I hate the quiet places
That cause endless revisions in my mind…”
When you’ve been in an abusive relationship, or if you’ve been assaulted by someone you know, the most difficult part of recovery is learning to trust yourself again. You question every single move you make, because… how can you trust this person (yourself) that has allowed such things to happen to you?!?
Little by little, I am giving those past versions of myself the grace and love that they need.
The only answer for me is admitting that what I did (in a situation that hurt me) was the best I could do at the time. It was how I survived. It was part of the road that brought me where I am now, safe and loved.
Little by little, I am giving those past versions of myself the grace and love that they need.
I always say that if I could change one thing about the past, I wouldn’t. Too risky. Changing one thing might change everything, and I wouldn’t give up this life I have with Brendan. Not ever. Not for anything.
I find that I have so much more compassion for myself than I can ever remember having had before. I see myself.
“What do you think I'd see
If I could walk away from me?”
I’ve been making self-talk videos. The whole ‘mirror talk’ thing has never worked well for me, and I realized recently that one of the reasons is that I was trying to be the speaker and the recipient (the listener) at the same time.
So now, I make little videos and focus on just being the speaker… nothing else. Then I watch the videos and just focus on listening.
It’s… weird. And wonderful. And heartbreaking. And sometimes cringy.
I find that I have so much more compassion for myself than I can ever remember having had before. I see myself.
(Also, I post them on TikTok, and a few people have said that they are helpful. So maybe that’s something.)
Lou Reed wrote Candy Says for a trans woman named Candy Darling, so the original intent of the lyrics was much different than my personal interpretation. Different, but not irrelevant.
If you want to hear the song, I recommend listening to Anohni’s cover. Anohni is a trans woman who was very close to Lou Reed, and thought of him as a father figure. Her rendition is hauntingly beautiful: http://y2u.be/n35yiLa18R8
Sara Quinn is the Editor in Chief at Tumbleweird. She lives with her amazing spouse, Brendan, and her doggos, Lila and Jewel. Sara makes art, writes stuff, reads A TON, and plays a lot of video games.
Feature image: Candy Darling (November 24, 1944–March 21, 1974) was an American Warhol superstar.
