Broad shoulders?

My wife suffers from anxiety, and always has to a small degree, but I feel I’ve been able to be there for her and together its rarely been a problem. But not when I’m the cause of the anxiety, when there are no reassuring words I can give…

Another late, late night, another verbal torture. My wife in tears, heaping blame upon blame onto me about how she’s feeling and all the bad things that are going to happen because of me. Thing is, she’s right; if I were a cis man then none of this would be happening. It *is* my fault.

When she’s not crying, she’s angry, pouring scorn on my fragile trans self-image. How *can* I say “I’ve never, in these last 12 years, been entirely honest with you about what I feel or how I am”? Answer: I can’t. So I prolong that dishonesty and feel an extra pain in addition to the storm of guilt being thrown at me.

Somehow, I’m not depressed at the moment … I’m not really sure why not, but I’m grateful. I simply would not have been able to survive the week if I’d been down as well.


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