Anonymous Story
I feel like I have some kind of trifecta of suicide experience, my own, caring for another and the loss of many dear queer friends to suicide as well as others from outside the community and people in my biofamily.
In accessing support and care I have often had to step outside of my queer identity. This has happened so many times that I normalised it and eventually I began to feel that somehow my queer identity was even contributing to my distress. I wasn’t closeted, but rather engaged with the world in separate ways. I didn’t integrate my identity. I normalised leaving parts of myself out.
When I moved to a regional area the feeling of being in community struck me as integral to lifting the heavy weight of all the aspects of suicide I lived with off my shoulders.
I coincidentally found a local queer book club. When I attended the feeling of being valid, seen and able to meaningfully connect with others in my community without booze, without loud music and in a quiet nurturing space was incredible. It shifted everything. It fuelled me through some of the hardest times in my life. I looked forward to seeing my LGBTQIASB+ bookish family in a way that gave me joy and lifted my spirits. It led to so much other stuff opening up in my life too. I had been outside of community like this for so long that I had forgotten the exquisite skills we have in holding space, looking into darkness and caring for each other as humans. There was open discussion (and active demonstration) of self care, mental health needs and queer culture. I felt so completely at home and at ease. It was true medicine.
Another key has been getting access to some reproductive surgery to limit the hormonal fluctuations which affected my moods severely and caused much of my suicidality.
“Bodily autonomy is a human right and deserves to be freed of the patriarchal and religiously informed views that reproduction is a choice someone else can make for another and that your body needs to be a certain way. ”
I was diagnosed with mental health issues at around 14 years of age. My reproductive cycle was beginning to hit its stride. It was always hell and I had a strong feeling that hormones were a cause of my distress. However over MANY years I struggled to find people who were interested in the intersection of psychological health and endocrinological health. After doing my own research I inquired about surgeries and was often told that I was too young to make these decisions (even later on at 35) and I just couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t change my mind and want children at some stage. Mostly I was told this by male doctors, therapists and surgeons but on a few occasions also by female and even recommended queer practitioners too. I just didn’t know what I wanted and what was right for me apparently. I found this enormously disempowering and felt I had no agency in my own health.
When I did finally access the surgery it was exactly what I needed to balance my moods and eliminate my suicidality. I really wish I had been listened to much earlier in terms of knowing what I want and what is right for my body.
People really do know themselves and what they need.
Bodily autonomy is a human right and deserves to be freed of the patriarchal and religiously informed views that reproduction is a choice someone else can make for another and that your body needs to be a certain way.
Access to information about relevant procedures saves lives and empowers people to live fully and be free of suffering, pain and ultimately be the controller of their own life.
Having the power to choose, determine and access healthcare you want is a protection against hopelessness and the desire give up on your body and even life.