There’s an essay I’d like to write, at the end of my undergraduate education, an essay based on my own experiences dropping out twice and some article I read about how the leading cause of death for college-aged kids is suicide, but that’s all I’ve got, and the problems facing higher education deserve better than the complicated emotions of one recent graduate, emotions too engulfed in the hazy intersection of personal and institutional trauma to ever engender clear and precise thoughts.
But here’s the brief of it: I’m bisexual, I’m trans, I’m autistic, I have OCD. Most of all I’m entirely unprepared to write the effects of each of these on each other and myself, nor the ways in which the university environment triggers and responds to each. Or, if by simply writing this I’ve given myself the lie, it’s just that I don’t feel like reciting the pain I know many of you have also experienced.
So here’s where I share something anyway, or try to start a conversation, or whatever, but none of that makes any sense to me. We all know what we’ve been through, what our friends have been through, what some of us are still going through, and writing it down might be therapeutic, but it sure won’t accomplish anything. And maybe this urge to effect change is just a silly attempt to change the past, when what I should be doing is moving forward with my life, trying to be what I wasn’t allowed (didn’t allow myself) to be. I wish I had an answer, but I’m just too tired to tell.