M
CALIFORNIA | SERIES # 4
At 18 years old, I was involuntarily admitted to a mental hospital for being a danger to myself. Coming out of the hospital after 15 days, I was eager to get connected to the Los Angeles LGBT Center. I didn’t know where it was, nor what services they had to offer. I’ve lived with parents, a grandmother, five older siblings, a nibling, and golden retrievers, but still felt very alone. I longed for a space to be around other queer people.
Now, at 22 years old, I’ve been hospitalized six times, rarely get the chance to pet dogs, have no job nor a car, am becoming very distant from the family, and can’t afford to continue school. However, I sing with a growing choir of trans* identified people, volunteer with queer people and straight/cis allies in fights for social justice, explore areas across and beyond Los Angeles County, learn from and work with professional dancers, and am expanding and changing my family as I see fit. I grew up isolated from those I could relate to. Now I have people to talk with about my passions, values, mental health, queerness, etc.
The Los Angeles LGBT Center started a lot of this. The Center provides services to thousands every day, which gave me the opportunity to surround myself with interesting, compassionate, beautiful, talented, and passionate people. This is a result of me just trying to help myself. I met people who would help me realize my non-binary agender identity and bisexual orientation. I met many who have continuously treated me with decency and respect. I found communities that share my values, passions, and desire to connect to our communities. I discovered ways to restore my faith in humanity, without needing internet videos of unlikely acts of heroism.
None of this came easily of course. As socially introverted as I am, no matter how adaptable I can be, or manic and interactive I can get, it’s hard for me to feel close with others. I consider myself rich in friendship but lacking in those I’d love to be as close with as a biological family member. I used to split my life into three segments: dance, LGBTQ+, and mental health. Those can be subdivided into high school, college, and other. I have developed families, friends, and acquaintances in these communities over time. Rarely is there overlap between the segments of my life.
While I try to make myself visible most places I go, I may not be as approachable as I want. I like to believe I’m just mature for my age as I’ve always been told this, but maybe people disregard me because of how little I speak at first glance. Other times, I feel invisible to society because of biphobia and transphobia, even within LGBTQ+ spaces. My pronouns are they, them, and theirs, and I have masculine and feminine features. I can be attracted to a person regardless of their gender. Some people have jumped to the conclusion that I’m a cis gay man. That hurts and upsets me every time, but I haven’t experienced much of that directly. When I do, I freeze and panic internally, resulting with me crying my eyes out.
Suffering from bipolar disorder also affects me and my social life. There could be many factors as to why my social circle is built the way it is. I’m still working on it though, and always will be. As I develop into the person I’m meant to be, with whatever career I’ll fall into, whatever places I’ll live, with whatever education I’ll receive, and with whatever experiences I’ll have, I will be working on myself each time. Through that, I’ll be constructing the best network of friends, family, and acquaintances I can have.
Living is a constant effort. I don’t dance enough, nor do I socialize regularly. Sometimes I even fall out of being compliant with my mood stabilizer medications and don’t work enough on opening doors to a career that would have me feeling fulfilled. I remember that as things get better or worse, there’s no guarantee my life will end the way it is. If at some point I’m feeling suicidal again, or stuck in a confusing transition in life, or happy with some areas of my life but struggling harshly in others, I remember that things change, just as surely as the seasons do.
