By Therisa Godwaldt
© 2014 and 2017 Therisa Godwaldt
All rights Reserved
Stigma Of Survival
Twisting the light
Molding one's soul
As the banshee wails
The bedroom window
July 1, 2018
Struggling to keep my bile from rushing forth and flooding my mouth, with the rising tide of nausea, at those hateful words, they spat out, at me, with venom. While the physical bruises and cuts have healed, the mental ones are, still, very toxic to my soul, where I just want the pain to end, regardless, of the method to do so.
Having kept quiet, about another failed attempt, for several days, before telling anyone about it. You see, the clinic, I go to, is one of those satellite offices, operated, by the hospital. Scattered, throughout the downtown core.
Never mind, some members of its psychiatric staff, are blatantly transphobic, as I discovered, during a psychological assessment, which I used to apply, for a disability support program, due to my chronic bouts of depression and suicide attempts. Never realizing, I was struggling with various anxiety disorders, PTSD, and agoraphobia. Ironically, during the assessment, I had one of my suicide attempts, and she writes; I am not clinically depressed. Go figure.
Nowadays, since my transformation, it's been Therisa Anne Godwin. Yeah, I know my parents "tag"ged, with my birth name. Know, this may sound bizarre, but I was taught, as a child, that family comes first, and my new name is, a way of honouring them. Given they would have named me, Theresa, had I been born female, instead of, male.