This was my Monday, in brief:
- Lost job.
- Lost transition plan.
- Lost hope (for a little while).
I’m feeling better now, relatively speaking. I got a serviceable severance package and I’m already starting to think through the next steps. I’m polishing my resume, I’m reading job boards, and I’m generally trying to make this a “new chapter” in my professional life. We’ll see how it goes.
In terms of topics germane to this blog, however, yesterday was a total fucking disaster. My plans are shattered, my forward progress is halted, and my long-term goals have been flung into an uncertain future. I will NOT be filing for a name change in two days. How could I, when I’ve got to be out there job-hunting, and that’s something that He will be far more successful at than Ali? And it’s safe to say that even if I do find a new job fairly quickly, I will NOT be successfully transitioning to an authentic full-time life on September 1st. That transition is on hold until … when? Who knows? I can’t go into a job and then just say six months in “Oh, by the way, I’m transitioning and please don’t fire me!”
I won’t lie and say that there hasn’t been moments of panic, of depression, and of anger. Luckily, I’m not the same person whose life shattered a year ago. I am a better person — at least, I like to think I am. If nothing else, I am a person whose brain is currently being moderated by quality antidepressants and a estrogen-dominated biochemical admixture to the usual brain chemistry. There’s not a trans person alive who’s undergone HRT who won’t tell you that the brain just works better with the right kind of hormones in there. It’s so, so true.
In the short-term, there’s one positive to all this: I am, technically, living full-time as my authentic self. No more starched shirts and ties for me; no more flipping that switch and being Him for most of the week. Sure, that may all change when I have to go to interviews and eventually get a job. But for the time being, I’m me. And that is a relief.