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Yesterday afternoon a rental RV pulled in to the campground space adjacent to mine. I didn't take much notice of it. I glanced there occasionally and was surprised to find that the couple were sitting in the cab of the truck. Kind of odd since the first thing one does is connect up the water, electricity, and waste disposal. I made my dinner and while cooking my pork chop decided to ask them if all was alright. Maybe they were unfamiliar with what to do and embarrassed to ask?
After eating my chop (which was delicious!) I headed over there. The man was in the cab, the woman no where to be seen. He popped out and I explained that I noticed them in the cab and was just checking to see if they needed any help. He was very friendly, in his 60s I think, and said it was just a comfortable place to sit and update his Facebook while keeping an eye on his own BBQ. His girlfriend then came out too, very big blond hair, friendly. I learned that they are from North Carolina, very small towns (about 2,000 people) near Raleigh, heading to Frisco (please, please, don't ever say that. It's San Francisco) today I think. We separated back to our RVs and the evening.
Last night I considered which side of the bathroom bill they are on. My guess is that they are on the trans-phobic side as they also made a small sleight about a minority. So now I'm wondering if I should venture there again this morning and ask them about the bathroom bill. And if they are for the discrimination ask them what concerns them. And regardless, then tell them that I'm transgender, and assure them that while in male mode (which they see me now) neither I or anyone I know who is trans would even consider entering a women's washroom. I could do it, sure. But I'm scared to think what might happen. Probably nothing physical, but emotional? Do I want to deal with that?
Anyway, I left my copy of Janet Mock's book "Redefining Realness" in the campground book exchange area. Maybe someone will read it and learn something. I hope so.
P.S. That couple left the park while I was in the laundry room, so they were unaware of their neighbor, the transwoman. I suppose I'll always wish I'd gone ahead and broached the subject with them. Who knows, we might have had a nice chat over a glass of wine. Given the same circumstances that's what I plan to do the next time. Live and learn.
Hello! It has been almost exactly a year since I last posted. Partly because I've been busy and partly because I couldn't find the site because I forgot what it was called! I have a lot of updates, this is almost an origin story so get comfy ;)
So, in May/ June i decided that I was done with moping around being a miserable git and feeling sorry for myself, it was time for change. I started to compile a letter to my family and friends the tell them about the new me. The first draft was about 3000 words and didn't read very well but with a little tweaking I got the count down and it was ready. I sent one to my mum, sister, best friend and I hand delivered the one to my girlfriend because she lived in my city. I know there would be a mixed bag of reactions but the one coming first would be from my girlfriend because she didn't have to suffer the Royal Mail. I was absolutely terrified! I had the letters teetering in the post box, only half in because once there in thats it! No take backsies.
Ill be more than happy to share the letter with you all if you would like, just let me know in the comments. I know it would probably have been better to say it all face to face but it was logistically not possible and I can't speak what I want it comes out as jibberish when I'm nervous.
So later that evening I received a text from my girlfriend to ask me to come over. I gave her an out in the letter and said that I would understand if she didn't want to be with me because of it, its only fair. As soon as she opened the door she burst into tears and I almost broke down myself. She wasn't crying because she was breaking up with me, she was crying at the idea of not being with me. It was all very emotional and we talked for hours about the future and what's going to happen next.
The next day I got a call from my sister crying, but it was more of a happy cry. She was very supportive and continues to be so to this day. I also got a text from my mum telling me she got the letter. *Back story, both my mum and my sister skipped to the end of my letter because they thought it was a joke. Mum then called, crying, and in the outset she seemed supportive. I went to go see her and she back tracked a lot, she didn't get it which is understandable and she didn't necessarily agree with it. The trip made me very sad and I cried a lot in bed that night. She has since become the amazing mum she had been for many years before.
That was all in the space of a week in June, there was a lot of emotion flying around.
Fast forward a month and my city's annual LGBT festival was happening. Oh wait I missed a bit, my girlfriend decided to stay with me because she is amazing! Honestly I wouldn't be the person I am today without her help and support. I am merely pieces of a person but she is my glue, keeping me together. So yeah LGBT festival, I wanted to go out as a woman for the first time. I figured that if I don't look perfect then that would be okay because everyone's dressed up and heading to the gay bar! I picked out an outfit, which was approved by my gf ;) and we headed out with our friend. It was the happiest moment in my life that I can remember for a long long time. Being out, being dressed up, it was exhilarating! I once went to a fancy dress party as a girl when I was 16, no one cottoned on to what I was doing which was fantastic and sad at the same time. So that was pride!
Not much happened in the months following, I started epilating (ow) and practicing with make up. Then when Halloween rolled around I took another chance to go out as Faith. Oh yes, my new name is Faith :) Halloween is a wonder out time where people can be anyone they want, so I did. We had a party and then hit the town. I was having a great old time and even bumped into a few people from uni who didn't recognise me which felt great! Of course my friend rumbled me by calling me by my old name but hey, who cares! I also went out New Years and unfortunately got entangled in a conversation with some random people which was tough because I don't have a woman's voice as of yet but they seemed nice and didn't point it out.
I have taken some big steps to becoming Faith, I have changed my name, I have been put on the GIC waiting list (2 years) and I have planned me entire look as cheaply as possible. While I have taken these big steps, it doesn't feel like enough, I still feel the same. I felt great, I told everyone and everything was going to change and it was going to be great. Nothing changed, that is indeed the issue, every time I see a woman I get a pang of jealousy and then struck with sadness. I don't want to die, but it's getting harder to live like this, I haven't told anyone this because I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me and baby me. Its just hard, I know I'm not alone it's hard for all of us at times, just seems like all the time at the moment.
So that is me fully updated! Thanks for reading if you made it this far ;) look forward to coming back to the blog and talking to some people!
Lots of Love
I have been quiet over the past few months. I have visited the site but have not written anything. Not commented on anything, not added an entry to the blog, etc. All I've done is read what others are writing about. I've noticed a few people sign off lately; saying goodbye; moving on. I've wondered about their reasons for leaving. I've also wondered what I'm doing here.
To be honest, one of the things that has bothered me is whether it's safe to post here. I've thought about the way the political landscape has changed in the USA and what that might mean for people who are based in the USA - and also what it might mean for people like me who are not based in the USA but whose words are, in all likelihood, being stored in a US data centre as I type. Am I being paranoid? Probably. Do I have cause to be paranoid? Not sure, yet. Probably not. But I am also wondering whether I have anything useful or interesting to say anymore.
I could tell people about how I've visited the gender specialists three times since i last added an entry to this blog, and how I have another two appointments lined up - one later this week and one next month. I could talk about the fact that my GP still isn't prescribing my testosterone and I'm still getting it via a private prescription, and that my GP has received written instructions from the gender specialists about what to prescribe and how to monitor my blood, but that she still doesn't seem inclined to do it. I could talk about my relationship with my husband, or my brother, or how things are going at work, or how one phone call from me to the psychologist at the gender clinic is all it would take to set up a referral to a surgeon for top surgery.
But I don't really want to. I've realised that I'm being self-indulgent on here. I've recently read through some of my previous posts and it seems to me that I've felt sorry for myself quite a lot and I don't want to do that anymore.
Everyone has problems. Everyone has things they need to work out or work through. I have it quite easy, really. I have a good life and I have family and friends who care about me and respect me. When I come here I seem to forget that and I only dwell on the negatives. I've used this site to moan and complain when, really, I have nothing to moan or complain about.
I wish everyone well. I hope you all get what you want out of life and I hope your journeys progress the way you want them to. I hope the destination is as wonderful as you envisage it to be.
Peace and long life.
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Just spent the last hour having my hair painted with my favorite green dye to repair the damage from the sun, spa, chlorine pool, hot tubs, therapy tub, and sea on vacation. There was a girl with pink hair tipped in purple and me with my green, and by the end of the week she was completely blond again and I was almost there, with just the front part clinging to the green. Looked like deliberately done modern streaking through, so I was somewhat happy with that. It's really relaxing to sit around having someone painting on your hair, to be honest. Nikki wanted to try the brush technique instead of bottle and massage since that kind didn't go so well, although it did dye my computer room a lovely matching shade to my hair. LOL As expected from someone with painting experience, this went beautifully for both painter and paintee. And as it's drying it's coming out really well, I'm thrilled.
The day is lovely too, it's a clear lovely day after a morning storm and around 83 degrees. YAY SPRING! Please stay spring, I'll be REALLY nice to you. Totally. I'm done with your sibling winter. Nikki's cold/flu thing continues, but he's in much better spirits with the better weather. Still only have a surprisingly light case of it myself, this is weird. Usually I fall pretty to germs and he doesn't. Once a few years ago a bug ripped through town, but targeted people with generally strong immune systems like Nikki and my bff but left those with weaker ones like me alone. It was weird, and this seems to be acting like that.
Now I plan to spend the evening enjoying the scent of the Argan oil in my hiar (the dye uses it, smells really good) and killing things in my favorite mmo. Bring on the cyberenemies!
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It's been awhile since I've written anything here - that was partly (largely) because of school and recovery. My recovery from GRS is going well, I've now been cleared for everything (including tennis and sex!), and I'm down to dilating twice a day (until the end of June). There was some granulated tissue, but that's been taken care of. And I've now had the delightful female experience of having my feet up in the stirrups for a medical exam! It doesn't make you feel at all vulnerable (sarcasm). I'm glad that my surgeon's staff is entirely female, I suspect that part of the process would have been a little more uncomfortable if her PA who was checking me was male.
I recently finished co-facilitating an 8-week support group for transgender people, this one was focused on those who had recently come out and/or were in the early stages of transitioning. The most interesting part for me personally was that going in I saw myself as in a very different place than the group members (since I've pretty much come out everywhere, and my physical transitioning is largely done), but there was definitely a common thread that made me very much part of the group (since it's a peer-run support group it was fine that I was sharing as well, thought I always made sure it was after anyone else had shared, I never took a priority position for myself). Specifically, the sense of alienation and rejection that people felt because of their gender identity, that's still definitely a very big part of my life - especially now that surgeries are done and I'm thinking more about the prospects of dating :-(
All my life I sought a life-long relationship, and, yes, I found true love for ten years, (in my forties), only to lose it for my refusal to marry her (back then, a Holy Union), for fear of losing my Disability benefits and bankrupting her as a result.
As I approach my 60's, I realize I have become more complex, because of all the life experience I have been through, making it more difficult for me to find someone with whom I am compatible. What brought this home to me was my experience with four Lesbian dating websites, (from my mid-fifties to the present), where the women my age (59) were more complicated and had more complex demands on a potential partner.
Slowly, it gradually occurred to me, that if I didn't find an alternative way of looking at love and companionship, that very likely I would remain single and have no romantic love and companionship for the rest of my life.
Gradually, I realized serial brief relationships (with the possibility of a relationship growing into a friendship or even a long-term relationship) would be a lot more realistic.
Here are my reasons:
WHY IT'S BEST I LIVE ALONE
- Am set in my ways.
- Needs to use the bathroom on short notice.
- Terrible odor when I use the bathroom.
- Never shared my living space (not even with my lover of 10 years).
- Can not share my apartment and finances due to being on Disability.
- Needs to live in HUD Public Housing (if anyone wanted to live with me, they, too, would have to be "very low income," too).
- Allergic to horses, dogs, cats and birds (most Lesbians not only have cats and dogs, but sleep with their pets).
- Am actually happy with my apartment (and I am unlikely to find as good an apartment - especially HUD Housing - anywhere).
- Only negative where I live is some residents in Beacon and many residents of my apartment complex, I don't like. Avoid them and save money to take trips every three or four months.
- Love my building.
- Management treats me humanely.
- Maintenance treats me humanely, and does an efficient and thorough job maintaining and cleaning the building as well as making repairs in my apartment. (Most HUD Public Housing properties are poorly maintained.)
- Very low crime rate where I live. (The lowest crime rate I have every seen at a HUD Public Housing property I have ever seen.)
Here are what I think are the advantages of short-term relationships:
The Advantages of Short-Term Relationships
- Due to very low income (some would call this a "budget income," I can not relocate quickly to continue dating a woman (in order to avoid a "U-Haul" situation where I would move in with her, and hope for the best!)
- Most women do not qualify (very low income) and are uncomfortable dating a woman who lives in HUD Public Housing, especially if it is poorly maintained and is in a dangerous neighborhood.
- Able to enjoy the relationship before the drama and games begin.
- Can't find a woman locally to me because of homophobia where I live. (Most women are already coupled before they move here.)
- Both parties should be single out of respect for other relationships and for themselves.
- Sex is not the primary reason for such a relationship, but companionship.
Of course, there are many other reasons people may choose short-term relationships rather than long-term or lifelong relationships.
Would like to hear from others if they resonate with this in their own lives (especially if they are 60 +) and how realistic they think this is.
Am I selling myself short? Or am I having realistic expectations for a 59 year old, average-looking woman, who is kind, compassionate, supportive and has many interests?
Thank you in advance for your comments!
Hi there all
I thought that my migraines would be a thing of the past seeing that it is testosterone related, but hey it the first I had in a few months.
The sensation of getting nauseous and disliking the way light makes my eyes and head feel is one thing I dont like. It aggravates me to a degree that I would just want to punch a hole through a wall just to focus the pain on something else.
I know when my estrogen levels are higher with my intake it deminishes. So I will definitely be talking to my endo about lifting the dose so that I can actually demish this sensation, seeing that after this operation it was dropped to 0.625mg to maintain my body. Not mentioning what I am taking as I am not prescribing medication for anyone and this is lower then what the international doses are, and yes I also know that I shouldn't be comparing South Africa with any other country, but when it comes to administering certain medication, we are following a totally different set of rules.
Majority of the time I'm feeling better. But the hematoma has gotten me down a few more times this week too. Did I mention, that the surgeon told me initially after the first week after the surgery that the hematoma would disappear after about 6 weeks, and 9 days later when I went for a followup again, that it looks as though my recovery will take about 2 to 3 months. What a bummer, right. I was thinking that I would be good and running about by now.
Okay, seeing that I'm giving an update, here goes. I can walk short distances and then I'm sore, which a long distances (endurance) walker doesnt want to hear right, precisely. I gained 2Lbs in the first week, lost 6Lbs a week later, and then gained a pound the week after that only to go down and he pound I gained. I know that this is due to the hormonal fluctuations caused by the operation, but now I'm wondering if this fluctuations aren't only effecting my weight, capabilities to eat and also possibly this onset of the migraine.
The reason I started the blog was to check how my mood and everything would change.
Talking about my mood changing, I've come to find a difference in the way I handle stressful situations. Normally where I go through the sensation of wanting to smash, meaning punch things when I'm angry, I release it through tears. Yes, I've become a cry baby of sorts. But I still tackle things head on first.
But if I didn't mentally change throughout this hormonal fluctuations in my body, as the chemistry in my brains are normalizing I wouldnt be human to start with right.
So be prepared for changes and keep holding on. We are all strong individuals, and we should all learn how to be vulnerable as well as the heroes we might be to others. Because being strong doesn't mean we dont have weaknesses, it just means we have learnt how to deal with those weaknesses that were flung unto us.
Stay strong, be beautiful. And above all, what does aphrodisiac beauty mean, as I've been told I am that, any good explanation please, as I dont see myself as a knockout beauty queen.
Cheers for now
Unfortunately due to some issues I won't be able to host my content here anymore. I have many reasons. But thank you gentle folk for your love and support. I wish you all the best. If you want to be in contact:
Hear me screaming at the clouds on twitter: @charllandsberg or my Twitter Profile
Come have a look at my weird and wonderful art on Tumblr
Have a look at my cooking and everyday photography on Instagram
I'm all over the place. Be good. Take care of yourselves.
All my love
Somewhere around here, I've shared the fact that my mother is NOT accepting of my transgender being. She was. At first. But then something changed, and she wanted to hear no more about it. She let me know she bore only ONE son [and that wasn't me]. She's also gone so far as to say that there is "nothing 'wrong'" with me, I was just adversely influenced and affected by my work environment and the people I worked around and with - all men. She refuses to accept that I wanted to be in job where I felt comfortable, and felt more myself - that being, with other men.
I already knew that my mother was a "girly girl." She was the kind of girl growing up that laid across her bed, looking at fashion mags and dreaming of a big wedding, a husband, children and a family. In fact, my mother did not leave home until she was married. My mother also used to draw and water colour. What did she draw? Women in all the top fashions of the day. She could have been one of those people that illustrates the envelopes that women's sewing patterns come in.
A few years ago, I learned that my mother is perhaps (I hate to admit it), a bit on the vain side. In a rant one day, the rant that pretty much shut down all future conversation about me being a transgender man (and despite that the topic really was irrelavent to a degree about me being trans), she talked about how any man she had ever dated had to be physically fit (no pot bellies, for example), had to be a good dresser (that didn't include jeans, or as they were most often called back then - dungarees), had to have neat [appropriately short] hair, and be the quintessentially perfect gentleman. She went on to let me know that my father was a very nice dresser and a gentleman.
Now, yeah, nothing wrong in dressing nice when the occasion calls for it. And nothing wrong in a man being a gentleman. But my mother was the type of woman that expected and demanded those qualities to the Nth degree. Of course on the flip side of that coin, she expected that women should dress a certain way with strict attention to whatever the occasion was, AND there were things she felt that only [bio]men should do, be able to do, know how to do, and that unless you are a [bio]man, you don't know jack about those things. In those things, she would and still does defer to men and take only the word of a [bio]man.
Example: cars. Doesn't matter what I know... if I try to tell her something, suggest something, advise her of a problem, give an opinion, offer to repair something...she will invariably ask me what do I know about it, how do I know it, who told me or how did I learn it. If it's something very minor, she may accept what I suggest or recommend. But anything more than minor, she will wave me off saying, "I don't know." Later, she will make it a point to ask a man about it whether that man is a mechanic, burger flipper, surgeon or pencil pusher.
In fact, I have learned since my dad died that there are things my mother does not know how to do. Doesn't have a clue. Things that, if she'll let me, I do for her 'cause... she doesn't have a clue. She will let me know, "you father always took care of that - I didn't have to do those kinds of things." It's not that my father didn't let her do these things, it's that in my mother's world, those things were his job to do, and she expected him to do them. My father, being the quintessentially perfect gentleman, acquiesced.
And so now, we come to the present. Over breakfast the other day, mother was telling me that she had stayed up a little too late the night before - she had been watching a movie that "had Madea in it." She couldn't remember the title of the movie and was describing some of the characters. When it came to Madea, she stumbled over what to call the character choosing instead to say "Tyler Perry." I said, "Madea." She said [paraphrasing], "he, Tyler Perry, he plays Madea." Then she went on trying to describe a scene, referring to Madea as "he." I retorted with, "she. Madea is a woman." My mother came back with, "but Madea is played by a man." This was supposed to justify her referring to Madea as "he" and "him."
My mother is so steeped in a strict male/female society, that she can't even refer to Madea as a woman, like most people apparently seem able to do, though I'm sure for many it's only because it's entertainment. It hit me then -- how will I ever expect that my mother will see and accept me as a man, when she can't even use the proper pronouns for a fictional character in a movie?
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This is the story of my transformation and my life as a crossdresser and how I was and who I was a girl or woman.It all started with a fight with a school bully who challenge to a fight at the park near my house and I lost the fight for he was on top on me and had me to being a sissy. I didn’t know what that meant at that time so I look it up and found it what it meant. That began my quest to find out what it felt like to be the opposite sex/gender. I started with my mother’s panties and then I got my own and then on out I started to get my own wardrobe. I have purged quite a few times and the third time being the last time and I got rid of my entire wardrobe in all. But I had all the right stuff, panties, bras and pantyhose and skirts and blouses and high heels and pocketbook and lipstick and makeup. I have wondered it felt to be a woman or the opposite sex gender and got into fantasy and Mistresses and got to services and have called phone sex services quite a few times during my time as Judy. Even written a script for the ladies on the phone out.
I have to gone to Lady Ellen’s Transformation Service to do my pictures two times. Back in the early 2000’s and it was all together I had a few girlfriends and have met a couple times with one or two of them. But have been able to connect with any of them as being mates or partners. Everyone since I have posted my pictures online has told me how good I have looked. Yes it comes quite naturally to me.Why do I crossdress? Well, it began like I said in a effort to understand the opposite sex/gender,
Then I started to feel good about my feminine self aka Judy, which then lead to aspire to be like a good secretary. I prefer blouses and skirts and heels and slips (full) under dresses and heels to anything else. Judy likes to dress up a secretary or a business woman. Even getting out of male clothing is somewhat relaxing to me. Judy is nothing like my male mode of Jay. Judy is my second self and she likes to relax with a blouse and skirt and heels and lipstick and makeup on.
That is about it.
It's been an extremely long time...but yeah, I'm still here. Nothing much has changed and I lost the ambition to blog because it was an endless parade of the same thing every day. It felt like a waste of time to keep repeating myself. Not sure why I'm here again, but I think maybe on the rare chance that anyone was wondering where I went or, by chance, was worried; I wanted to let everyone know that I'm alright.
Whats New: Just over a year at my job in Security, and nothing has changed too drastically. We had a conflict during my shift between a civilian and a staff member and I clicked back into my pre-training when I wanted to be a State Trooper and handled the situation the only way I knew how. I got in the middle of it. I was able to defuse the situation safely and separate the two individuals, writing a detailed report on time, location, involved parties and descriptions of the would-be assailant. I didnt think anything of it. It's my job, it's what I do.
Well, apparently the higher-ups of the company I work for didnt think it was just "what you do". They called a meeting, held a conference, and low and behold...I was upgraded. I'm now full-time, with benefits (soon, not yet. Paperwork is awaiting) and I was given huge praise from both the Town Police Officers and the Academy I work for. Not only that, but the situation forced them to realize that we, as Security, are vastly ill-equipped for our jobs and finally have decided to listen to our needs and provide us with new supplies. A newer, larger vehicle that we can safely transport clients and students in (we are using a little P.O.S. hand-me-down Ford Ranger right now which is horribly cramped all the time and I hate driving it.). I'm still in work-mode so my typing is kinda professional still Anyway, we're each getting water-proof, theft-proof, USB charging Dock equipped backpacks that will have flashlights, mace, first aid, notebook&pen, a security monitoring computer and etc. We're also all getting new uniforms and much-needed spotlights and gear that we SHOULD have had months ago. It took my situation with an aggressive individual for them to realize "hey, these guys COULD get hurt while protecting these kids...we should gear them up." FINALLY.
So that's work.
(Plus I was at the Post office today ((with my security jacket on....because it's basically the only winter coat I own.)) and one of the postal workers stopped me and said his son goes to our Academy and asked about a drug raid he'd heard about. I explained that one particular student who will remain nameless had supposedly had prescription painkillers in his possession that were not his, and we confiscated them. I assured him that we do frequent and random sweeps of dorm rooms and dorm buildings for anything they should not have, and he seemed happy with that. The last part that got me was just before he walked away, he said "Thank you for protecting our kids. You guys do a great job." Finally....recognition.)
YOUTUBE: Yes, I am still recording YouTube videos! I am HORRIBLY behind on posting them, unfortunately, but life's been a bit hectic atm.
FACEBOOK: I now have TWO pages up on facebook for my Youtube channel so you can stay up to date. One page is specifically for my channel videos, while the other is dedicated to my craft hobby (which just started so its very very slow) where I am selling crafts that 100% go towards my top surgery.
(Facebook.com/dubstepheartbeatYoutube & Facebook.com/dubstepheartbeatCreations)
Oi vey....where to start....So I still havent had my surgery, obviously since I have my creations page to pay for said surgery....I have been fighting continuously with Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield on getting them to pay for my surgery, even if just a portion. They refuse. The reason is this: My LEGAL gender is MALE. My Birth certificate says FEMALE. I cannot change that without GRS which I will not do. Anyway...My ID says Male on it. So when they filed for my surgery, they initially filed it under FEMALE BREAST REDUCTION. Well, since my ID says Male on it, they cannot do that. Because I am legally male. So it would go under Gynocomastia, which I do not have. Which..frankly doesnt matter because they dont cover it anyway.
I've spent a minimum of 4 hours on the phone every time I call, explaining over and over and OVER again that I am Transgender, I am legally male but physically female, and that this is a breast reduction not because I'm transgender but because of spinal damage, pain, interferance with work, and a damaged trapezius muscle. All of which has been noted by my doctor FOUR TIMES, including all the necessary paperwork (and more...) sent to them REPEATEDLY. They either claim that A: they never got the paperwork, B:It lacked a piece of info they wanted, C: They have it and are reviewing it OR......D: They cant find my account at all. I spent TWO HOURS on hold just for them to tell me that the line I HAD BEEN TRANSFERRED TO...doesnt handle what I'm looking for so they transferred me BACK to the people I ORIGINALLY WERE TALKING TO. Absolute, complete, utter flipping NIGHTMARE!!!
With my anxiety & Depression issues, it came to the point where I would completely avoid calling them because it would completely destroy me for days afterwards. I've had people offer to help with with the call or figure things out, but either they offered once and never followed through or they simply werent understanding that everything they wanted to try...I've already done it. No one....GOT what I was trying to say. It started to feel like no one cared anymore either.
I called GLADD FIVE TIMES. I only ever got ONE response, which was "we'll call you as soon as we have more info for you.". That was months ago....nothing.
I called the State of New Hampshire's Offices for Insurance to figure out what to do. "We'll call you back." They never did. Not only did they not return my calls, but every time I called them back and demanded to talk to someone, they'd just keep saying "Ma'am, someone will call you." Misgendered AND ignored. Thanks for that.
I called SIX...ADVOCATES...FOR TRANSGENDER PEOPLE IN MY STATE. Again, either they didnt know how to help, didnt call me back, or simply said "keep trying". For someone with severe Anxiety, the phrase "just keep trying" is like saying "Haha, well that sucks."
I cant keep trying. It causes me such dysphoria, severe depression, anxiety and physical illness that I have to call out of work, take days to recooperate and fight of the HORRIBLE sensation of the NEEEEEEEEEED to self harm. I'd been able to stay sober of it thus far, except for one episode involving a fight with my homophobic, trump loving, transphobic, Democratic-hating sister&mother-in-laws...(Long story short, I had just worked 14 hours, was tired and exhausted; and was accused of abusing her animals. Not by the mother, but by the sister-in-law. Who is basically the princess of the castle. I lost it.) So the insurance company locked me out of my online account conveniently a week before my due date to switch insurances, so I couldnt even access my account to change insurance companies before the due date ran out and....low and behold...I was renewed with Anthem BCBS for another year. I dont have enough swear words and foul language names to throw at them to express how I feel...
I also, by the way, emailed Anthem personally either through Twitter's Anthem Help page or their main help page, which ran in circles up to the point of them calling and leaving a message ON THE ONE PHONE I SPECIFICALLY ASKED THEM NOT TO CALL BECAUSE I WONT GET THE DAMN MESSAGE, then when I called them back, I got nothing. Just an answering machine. FOR THREE WEEKS.
When I mentioned this to them, they shrugged it off. Yeah.....F You too.
(BEFORE YOU OFFER TO HELP ME WITH THE INSURANCE THING:::::::No, I do not need the help right now. Thank you for thinking of me anyway. But with my job title changing, I'm getting new insurance and there is absolutely no reason I can think of to try and pursue Anthem BCBS's jerkoffs when I'm leaving them really soon. Thanks anyway.)
So, anyway....thats life right now. As you can see, not much has changed. New promotion and same insurance b.s.
Oh, and apparently I have dissociation with my chest. Which doesnt surprise me. I found out because I was in the shower, washing like I usually do with my eyes squeezed shut and my heart breaking at the sensation of having to wash those stupid boulders on my REAL chest underneath, and....what's this? I look down and I apparently had a pimple or something that had developed on the underside of my left breast, but had gone unattended to for god-knows-how-long, so it festered and became raw and infected. Did I notice? No....I didnt even feel it. I've always had next to no feeling or sensation in my chest since I was cursed with them, but I didnt think much of it. This made me really realize...I have no feeling in them whatsoever. So I experimented. I ran my hands along the sides, fronts, top and bottom....but nothing. If it werent for feeling it through my fingertips, I wouldnt feel it at all. Absolutely nothing. It's like...I feel the pressure of my hands but that's it. Not a tickle or a whisp of sensation. I have completely, entirely, absolutely dissociated with my chest so much that I no longer feel it. It's no longer 'mine'. Its just...there. That's what kills me even more.
Theyre there, theyre attached to me...but if I dont even have feeling in them, they feel even more alien to me. I'm not supposed to even have them and this just proves it even more. It didnt hit me as hard as it did at the doctors when I casually mentioned it and she was confused. Apparently ciswomen are SUPPOSED to have feeling in them. Like...everywhere.
It's weird. It's like a feeling of abandonment. That I've hated them so much and for so long that theyve finally given up and just died, but I still gotta carry the corpses around. Now, more than ever, I just want them gone...It's almost too much to stomach. I choke up thinking about it. I feel like a part of me has just died, staring me in the face and flipping me the bird before being just completely gone. But instead of leaving, it lingers in the doorway and stares me down, laughing at me and mocking me because they wont go away.
It sound stupid but I feel like theyre taunting me. Like "We know you dont want us, so we're gonna take away any sensation of being here, except you'll still have to carry our dead weight. You cant get rid of us, you will still have a huge lump in your shirt and we will NEVER allow you to touch your real chest underneath. You hate us, and we hate you. So live with it."
I even opted out of my nipple grafts so that the surgery would be cheaper. Not just for a cheaper price, but because I've always had issues with those parts anyway so there's no point in hoping they'll heal and stay where they put them when a huge part of me knows they wont. They dont heal well, never have. I get pockets in them where sweat and crap lingers and I have to clean the areas like pimples. I dont want them anymore. I dont want anything to do with any of them.
But I still have to bind them.
I still have to readjust them in my binder.
I still have to wash them.
I still have to toss and turn to find a comfortable position between suffocation, smothering, pinches or unending sweat.
I still have to put lotion on the extremely dry and chapped skin from binding.
I still have to carry them around on my aching shoulders.
I still have to nearly suffocate with them just to tie my shoes.
I still have to feel them jerk and yank on my sore back when I try to use a treadmill.
I still have to make sure there's no sores because they dont bother to tell me when something hurts anymore.
I still have to try and save up 8000$ to get rid of them because insurance doesnt give a flip.
I still have them.
And they taunt me.
My relentless bully...is my own body.
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Today is St. Distaff's Day. Compitalia, celebrating the household Gods. Today we honor Frigg and her followers, the "Freefolk". "Partly work, and partly play Ye must on Saint Distaff's Dayu" the old adage goes. It is also time for me to "shield in place". I need to take a break from the constant ups and downs regarding "my" dysphoria. My affliction. Tired of facing inward and trying to fix something that in the scope of my life? A lot less of an "issue" than it needs to be, considering. What? Well, let's throw out some things shall we? I have recieved some excellent "counseling" from someone who says my dysphoria is NOT my biggest concern. OK. Good to know. My counselor is a pretty decent person. Specializies in helping people who's professional lives expose them to some very traumatic stuff. I was amazed at how good this person was at getting me to talk. Good to find someone I can be comfortable with. A person that is familiar with the "problems" people who work in compartmented "projects" all they're lives can develop. I thought I was lossing it to Paranoid schizophrenia! The counselor just laughed at me and said "No, that's called self preservation. Johnathan Pollard actually existed. That actually happened. Your pretty much screwed for the rest of your life, just stay frosty and relax". Showed me this picture and said if you can balance these? Your mental health issues will be skosh. When I broached "dysphoria"? Push me over with a feather, the counselor replied "You'd be astounded to know just how many people I deal with could use a little clarity on THAT subject". Love them Doc's that don't beat around the bush!
How is your 2017 going to go? I have a good idea of how mine is going to go. Lots and lots of time in medical facilities. Lots of appointments. Lots of testing. I am VERY HAPPY about that. This flurry of medical activity surrounds my Soulmate and not me. She is FINALLY going to get the medical assistance and screening that she deserves. She is. not me. I am working on my "blackouts" and my manic depression issues, but for now, I am good. I have a mea culpa. I have NOT been a good spouse for a while. My prediliction with my tripartite self. I have been selfish. So, there you go. "Ronnie" is a steady state for me. 50/50. MODLOC. I have a lot of "new" things to deal with. I can NEVER drive a car on public roads EVER again, unless it is the most dire of emergencies. I can't get on an airliner. I wouldn't be able to fly a plane. I'm not even supposed to operate power tools without supervision anymore! But that doesn't mean I have to stop living or caring about the awesome folks I've met here.
I was going to leave this site and then I thought, why? It can help me. Hopefully, I can be of help to someone else. I have 41 and in a less than a month, 42 Y E A R S invested in the person that I DO love most. Violet pretty much is my Universe and she deserves better from me. Sure, some will say that I may be "disengenious" with regard to the "community". That I am not being "true" to myself. Really? I exist in a different "plane" than most people. The person who is my betrothed is also a Petty Officer in the US NAVY, like I am. She saved my life. That's what she does. She can make a towering Marine break out in a sweat by snapping a rubber band, holding a syringe and saying "Need to draw some labs". The only things that can make the USMC hesitate? Godzilla and Hospital Corpsman. Oops, my bad. Hospital Corpsman THEN Godzilla. Got to preserve the natural order of things as the Creator has made them. Nope, for me? This fight isn't about a community. It's about my sanity and I am the ONLY one that can fight it and that means being in it to win it. I may never be "complete", but I promise, I will try NOT to be boring. But I'm not that salty so having a wingman? PRICELESS. I know she always has my back. BRAVO ZULU Doc!
So for this new blog, I chose "Scutum" because I need a shield right now. Something that will insulate me from the Demon I have just gotten to go back to sleep. Scutum is called "Sobieski's Shield" in some places in Europe. Jan III Sobieski was a bad ass. Your writings here and how you look at the World and what you are doing to cope and just the minutiae of our everyday existence can be the exact thing I need to stabilize when I start to get wiggy! 2 anchors are better than one. I have Violet and I have you all. I am blessed. Monsters from the id. They're real.
A New Line Drawn In The Sand
So here we are, yet another year. 2016 was to say the least not a year that brought much happiness or progress in my life. It’s funny to think just how life works out; at the start of 2016 I was in such a good place. I felt I had done the right things and had done what people had told me to do to succeed in life: however the thing is no matter what you do in life, no matter how much you plan, pray, achieve or succeed, the world, life and maybe even destiny has a completely different road for you in store that will end up leaving you clueless, scratching your head wondering why?
My journey has not been a straight line and I know it sounds cheesy but quite often has been up and down, zig zags, twist, speed bumps and sometimes even at time complete 360’s. As of this time last year exactly I wrote in my (what is a very expensive diary) by Demi Lovato is this following entry
‘Dear Diary… First things first I can’t believe I'm actually writing in the 35 dollar book. TBH it is a big rip off. Are the pages made out of the most exquisite paper? Anyways what’s going on with me? I kind of love this busy period of my life. It makes me feel that I have a grasp on life. Work is going good and I am little excited to see where this will leave me. Summer school tomorrow. Hope I can continue the motivation and complete everything I need. Frightened yet excited…”
This is compared to a diary entry I wrote in late august 2016 of some lyrics I quoted of a song that represented everything I felt to the core of inside me.
‘Your memory is breaking my heart. Ill pretend I'm okay with it all. Act like there’s nothing wrong. Is it over yet, can I open my eyes? Is this as hard as it gets? Is this what it feels like to really cry? “
My 2016 self was to be very correct in her concerns and she sure should have been frightened for what would soon come. Who knew the person writing this would have left school only 2 months later, on a bender of drugs and crime that never ended.
It’s a very hard thing move on after you've had so much pain, loss and suffering followed with making bad choice after bad choice and crossing that line so many times, that you’re so far distanced past that line you begin to barley remember it exists, why it was there to even begin with. I’ve been travelling over that line since I was 13 and sometimes I do have to wonder if I’ve travelled so far past it and stamped so many times across it, that my own line doesn't exist or it is so far dusted out that if not at all gone, barely visible where I'm far beyond ever getting back to that little girl I left behind that line. Maybe it’s time to take my own advice and acknowledge that little girl, the pain and damage I and others have inflicted and draw a new line in the sand with a hope of a better tomorrow'
This is 2017 though I remind myself, let’s try and reflect as much as we need to in order to learn, process and move forward with our lives however not dwelling on the past and finding that balance between reflection and then moving forward. A lot of my previous blog post since deciding to get clean have been about self-reflection and about the bad times throughout 2016 and telling some of the impacts of those bad times and choices throughout 2016 had on me from physically throughout to socially, emotionally etc. I admit to you that I do write those blog posts in order to try and help others on their journeys, bringing some awareness and doing whatever I can by speaking out. I also admit I get more out of writing it for my readers then my readers get reading it. I thank all my readers who read my stuff whether it be friends, family or someone from around the globe. You all help me get to a place where I am now, I can’t even express in words what I get out of writing this.
This moves me onto my next thing I wish to talk about in my new year, a new chapter. Being in my second detox stay. Being herein such difficult times such as being in here throughout new years and being in here with such strong incredible people and hearing their stories has washed over a me a sense of gratitude and appreciation for the life that I lead and all the gifted things I have been blessed with and not just from now but since I was brought into this earth. So many young people out there have been dealt such a shit hand in life since the beginning whether it is from physical abuse, being in foster care, being kicked out of home or even left homeless. I hear such sad Stories and even remarks...
Wait scratch that, NOT SAD stories BUT courageous, strong and inspiring stories of such young courageous lionhearted beautiful people. These stories and remark s make me so grateful for all that I have been given, such as loving and kind parents and family, a roof over my head with heat and food plus filled with privileges of nurture and celebration. I think it is so important to have a grateful heart. I have written before in a previous post about the importance of gratitude and appreciation but I feel each day I learn just how much this is true.
I am thankful for my second chances, the ability to be able to live in a world filled with services and places that are graciously there to help you along your journey, my second chance at VCE and like above my loved ones followed with finally my sobriety.
Thank you so much for reading this, like I've said I've gotten so much out of this and I appreciate all the kind and supportive comment and messages. Please if you think my blog can help anyone out there please put them on to it. I am always free for a chat if anyone wishes to talk.
‘Dare to be something more’
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Reflecting back on the year 2016 I've very pleased with the decisions I've made and new friendships made. Now it's time to see what happens as hormones progress changes to my physical and mental attributes as most know as years go by hormones tend to incrementally change one's behaviorism and I have noticed in the past several months a noticeable change not per-say in moods but how I react to things and events that several years ago I would had reacted totally different than today.
Thinking about assimilation into a female role where many leave the trans world behind at my point in my journey I'm still going to mentor and assist those less unfortunate then me in regards to being able to transition with virtually no issues while the majority are on the opposite end of the spectrum. When not with transgender people I never bring up the topic unless someone else starts a conversation e.g. "I've noticed a surge with transgender people..." and is not directed at me but with a group of people.
Had a conversation with a cross dresser recently who heads up a cross dresser group indicated 99 percent of those who transition in her group leave the group and want nothing to do with them anymore. I said, can you blame them? Personally I rather see them do that but hopefully some will mentor others who's goal is to transition and need someone to assist them.
That brings up an interesting thing, while out with a cross dresser group last weekend one of the girls said her future son-in-law was coming and that he is also a cross dresser and his future wife knows about this, wow, times are changing. I'm learning that many couples are accepting of their cross dressing partners but a few I talked to said if they even consider transitioning they were done with them, in short they married a male and need a male yet accepting of their partner showing their female side.
It's a brave new world emerging.
As much as I am a women, I remain a man inside
I am living as girl on 24/7 basis, and I enjoy every minute of the wonderful experiences I receive from my bipolar transgenderism personality.
As much as I live as a girl, I also live myself in his shoes and carry on the responsibility of being a man. The importance of being a 2 nation theory personality is key in having dual characteristics of attributes.
As I wonder about my long term goals, for surgery, I am unable to transition due to Family purposes. Now ask yourself if you are to go to surgery, you have on back of your mind, a lingering thoughts of your own financial burden, well the question answers itself automatically.
I love living as her by receiving positive gestures all day long
but I need to do my job as himself in order to sustain a paycheck to paycheck at end of every month, which is important.
For instance the job where I work for, I couldn't have done it without being him! That's why I have dual genders for purpose of attaining employment.
I have said it before but without negative impact, if I were to get a real job as transgenders person in a straight man's world's, I would have it by now, but I don't, as I wasn't so lucky in my endeavors!
At least that are my experiences I have to share with.
Well in conclusion, I have to keep my job, as far as surgery is concerned, it will be after 10 or 15 years depending on financial support I get.
Well it's season of greetings and hope and togetherness! I hope everyone has a great Merry Christmas and wish happy new year 2017 !
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and check out http://outcast-all.com for all those living abroad individuals feeling homesick, or Misfit students anywhere, and don't forget to see (A to Z list section) there is something for everyone !
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I have some positives since my absence. I think my therapy had been coming along nicely. I've been becoming a lot more comfortable with being transgender and a lot less intimidated by what people are thinking. At times, I feel like I've given too much of myself away and the rest I have just locked away. I've been trying to find a way to reintegrate myself into society. I've met a handful of people who have been helpful, most are not. I feel like I'm stuck in a loop at times, trying to find the one key that's going to open the door to the good life.
In some ways I feel betrayed by life, like I don't want to be this. No matter how I view it, I feel like I am going to always be viewed as less. Thinking on these things just leads me to darker places.
My therapist has been suggesting to me to attend at least one transgender event so I can connect on some physical level with others who are going through this. I've been considering it a lot.
I've started switching my wardrobe around, wearing makeup at home, focusing more on who I want to be. I feel going slow through this has allowed me to better experience this in a positive way. Knowing that this will be completed at some point is my light. Theres also the whole what do I want to do then? I have a few ideas in mind but the best so far aside from my hobbies is to help other people get where they need to go. A possibility would be social work.
Update - 12/6/2016
To say that a lot has happened since I last posted is an understatement. I will post more later.
I am currently recovering from FFS surgery on Dec 2nd. I had a brow reduction & lift. Upper eyelid surgery, rhinoplasty, fat transfer to the cheeks. Chin reduction and shaping and tracheal shave. Tomorrow I have an appointment to hopefully take some of the stitches out and splint on my nose..
I have been off from work since Dec 1st and will be returning to work as Lisa on Dec 19th. I changed my name with the court and my name and gender marker on my SS card. In a few days, I will be going to the DMV and later the passport office to change my name and gender marker there as well.
Why is everyone that is not my doc (family that is ) worried about what is or not between my legs or if i have GRS . it is really not any of their concern .......ugh , i came out to you to let you know who am not to try and control my life or my journey ............
Hi this is Ace. I am looking for FTM or MTF friends in Rochester NY. Many of my friends have dumped me or moved west (the dumping due to my FTM status. I need friends in Rochester NY who will understand me and be good friends. I am alone alot although I am married long story). Please check me out. Thanks
Who doesn't love a hand full of skittles every now and then? No, I'm not going to go into any commentary on candy at this time, though. My subject is actually about love in diversity, namely the LGBT community and more specifically the pride flag. Although this site is geared more toward Trans...(fill in the blank) and our flag is a flag of different colors my intention isn't really about colors. The rainbow has been used as a significant symbol throughout our world's history. In the 16th century, during the German Peasant's War the rainbow flag was used to symbolize a new era, hope and social change. The rainbow flag represent the city of Cusco in Peru. It represents Buddhism, In the 1920's it represented the International cooperative Movement, which stood Unity in diversity and in 2001 it became a logo for the I.C.M., placed in the middle of white background. Each color representing different meanings:
- Red - Courage
- Orange- visions of Possibilities
- Yellow - The challenge that Green has kindled..
- Green - A challenge to strive for growth
- Sky Blue - A goal to achieve global unity
- Dark blue - Helping those less fortunate
- Violet - Warmth, beauty and friendship
In 1961 the rainbow flag stood for Peace. Then in 1978 Gay Pride!
Yup the good ol' rainbow flag in unity and love. The colors have traveled around the world to arrive in this day and time as a symbol of hope and an expression of courage . It has been told that in various countries that gay men signaled others by the wearing of a specific color. In England they wore green carnation, in Australia the color was yellow, usually in the form of socks. At one time, somewhere, the color was purple, as in "Purple Power". During the holocaust a pink (gay) or black (lesbian) triangle was used for the prisoners. Now brought together in the form of a flag that not only represents rights but also pride.
As the story goes that the original rainbow was created by the Hebrew/Christian God as symbol of a promise with love. Now please don't take me as a hater when I say that it should be returned to be just that, a promise with love or in love. I don't mean in love with your partner, but in love with each other as a whole. This world needs to learn to love one another. Across the oceans and across the land. The rainbow flag needs to be spread over the globe not only in the homosexual community, but in all community, all cultures,(or sub cultures) in all society. Remove all labels and just as the colors of the flag came from around the world let it now fly around the world in love and unity in diversity.
So I have to move out my apartment due to breaking up with my ex. Which is great! it's great because though we get along and we will always be friends, we need different things from our partners that neither of us are going to get. I am packing all my junk, and realizing I have way too much. As I pack though I found tons of pictures of me from what I call the dark ages. The Dark ages were the period of time after high school but before college, a whole six years for me, in which I went back into the closet and suffered a period of self harm and also a mental break down. I survived through a period of sever depression that I didn't even realize I was going though until I was lying on my bed with a butcher knife. I realized how dark I'd gotten I vowed to never ever let it get that bad ever again.
I feel like if I don't share this part of my life than I'm not being straight with people when I say life gets better. This part of my life that led me to who I am today. This time of my life that made me realize that nothing matters if you can't find that happiness in yourself. That there is nothing selfish in transitioning, but its wicked selfish to kill yourself. I say that because of the potential each of us has that is wasted when cut short. I know the insanity of fear and the desperation that comes along with it. I also know that taking your own life in your hands can be the most powerful and freeing feeling in the world and there has never been any grater feeling in my life than that gift. It was a gift I earned by staying alive despite the pain along the way.
As I Sit in my bedroom packing all of my belongings, trying to breathe as this cold ravages me, I cannot help but be excited for the road ahead of me. I am terrified and yet so emboldened by the fear that I have this duplicitous euphoria. Today is May 27, 2016 and I am Benjamin Crowley twenty five nearly twenty six year old black transgender man living in the United States at time feels terrifying and electric at the same time.
Terrifying because as I grow older race, which had never been a problem for me and mine, is becoming an odd affront to society. Actions that others take for granted I never previously would have thought were racially motivated have become a stark raw truth to be being black in America. I feel nervous as I transition that people will interpret me differently because of the projection of my identity into a public spotlight. This however is at the back of my mind as I sort through my things.
At the fore front is the power held in the words, “I am enough.”
I am enough. Similar words blazed though my head four years ago nearly to this day as I worked a warehouse job slaving into the night earning more money than I knew what to do with. I had no kids no titles and no self-worth. I had let others dictate to me what my future held and in the stagnant space between their idolization of the hardworking young black woman whom earned her keep I found myself in a great state of melancholy.
What does it mean when you have everything you could materialistically want and are still unhappy?
I weighed 150 lbs. and had kinky over processed blond hair, a nice body and a sad smile. I hated myself. The person they all knew, who wore punk make up and listened to green day… she was a lie. She was only happy when it rained, hated bras and wore heels in a defiant streak of masochism. It wasn’t until she faced self-demolition did she realize that what everyone though she was wasn’t her at all.
In fact she wasn’t even a she. Never in her head did she see herself as a ‘She’. In her head her self-reference was always ‘I’ and when it ventured to the dangerous gendered lands of pronouns she, realized, had always been a he. So where was she now? Hiding in conformity because she was scared of losing everything she had. But she was already loosing…
This path she was one would never make her happy. So he cut off all his hair. Stopped wearing make-up and heels. Stopped bleaching his hair. Stopped starving himself to be pretty and started loving himself a bit more every day.
Started college. Manically picked out masculine clothes. Introduced himself as Ben. Learned self-love and proudly thinks, “I am enough.”
Thank you everyone again for you viewership.
It's been 8 months since I have been on HRT, and I am feeling great. It's amazing how smooth my process has been. I am a senior in high school and I already have my name and gender marker changed legally and I am living my life authentically, I am extremely proud of how far I have come in just 2 years. I have opened so many people's minds about my community and I have been given so many opportunities so represent my community. I can't wait to experience more!
Haven't felt like doing much of anything and really have been just going through the motions. My cat, the cat that Bree got when I was way down from my bout with cancer back in the early aughts, had her own bout with cancer and lost. Initially they thought it was lung cancer and gave us steroids to help her fight it, but it turns out that was just the secondary cancer. She stopped eating, started having seizures almost every hour and was falling apart. When we took her into the vet that's when they found the brain tumor just by looking in her left eye. The tumor hadn't been visible the last visit at all and it was pressing in on her brain causing the seizures, loss of appetite and all that. At fourteen years old and with no real options left I had to say goodbye to her. Our son was there, Bree was there, everyone that was close to her was there, but it was still hard as hell. I'm tearing up now writing about it and it's been a week. I imagine this is going to last a while.
I miss my cat.
I did start getting somewhere with my therapy. My therapist does like that I'm trying to keep a written journal which I write in when I'm feeling things and what thoughts are driving them since most of the time I feel numb and can't really feel anything at all except an overwhelming case of meh. Ultimately what she has tentatively diagnosed me with is Persistent Depressive Disorder, also known as Dysthymia. It's a possibly ongoing depression, not necessarily major, but it can cause most of what I've got going on in my head most of the time. She and I discussed my abuse as a child, we touched on my gender identity confusion, some of my emotional triggers and she did suggest that a combination of treatments would be good for me, so it looks like I'll be getting some medication to take some of the edge off while I try and work with her to figure out what I can do with or without the medication to deal with this, so I guess that's good. I don't necessarily feel good or bad about the diagnosis. I mean I figured I had something going on in there, only now it has a name.
I have been a bit mean to Bree and it's not been fair. I did apologize for it and I've been trying to be more mindful of my mood and what's coming out of my mouth or going on the keyboard. She doesn't deserve any ire I might be feeling. I've had a few really down days which hasn't been helping and I'm weening myself off of caffeine bit by bit. I'm drinking almost none at home and although I've been bad a few days here with lunch and dinner, it's mostly been water or tea. I'm drinking more water at work and less coffee. There is still a bit of soda but not much there. I'm sure that's been a bit of the issue, but being down makes me a bit of a jerk to be around, especially when I can't seem to bring myself to do or want to do anything and that's on me, not Bree. Ugh.
I did touch on my gender confusion with my therapist and we talked about why I've gone down the crossdressing route instead of pursuing transition and she did question if I'm doing it to please everyone else and not myself, and no, this is as much about what I need and want as everyone around me. While it was tempting to look at transitioning as this magic pill that would fix everything, that's not going to do it for me. The underlying problems I'm having that led to the depression will still be there and a whole host of new ones. I'd still have to deal with my childhood abuse, my procrastination, self-loathing, laziness and problems being social with people I want to be social with. That isn't going to just vanish with transitioning and right now I'm really doing the crossdressing to feel better and elevate my mood from being low or to raise it a bit so I feel happier, it's not so that I feel normal like I'd originally thought. I was doing it to feel and while I do feel more like my old self, I also get that when I settle in and have some fun at things I'm supposed to be having fun at. A few different road trips with Bree to our favorite restaurant and to the zoo and just being with her in general and engaging on the same level that we used to when we first started dating really opened my eyes to that.
Working some of this out has helped, but right now I'm kind of still grieving even while I'm trying to feel better and it's just kind of putting me in this spot where I don't want to do much of anything. Being a bit more creative has helped a bit, but I have to prod myself into doing that. Once I'm in that head space I have a lot of fun with it until things go sideways and then I just kind of shut down. I'm definitely a work in progress at this point. I have a whole host of problems to work through, but I have a great wife and life with Bree who's been nothing but supportive through all of this. I have a diagnosis now and at the very least a hope that I can get to feeling more like I used to with a big ole smile on my face.
Right now though, I'm still missing my cat.
Joined this site a few days ago after many years of fantasizing wondering what it would be like to explore what i was really feeling inside. Did some deep soul searching and realized that to feel complete, i have to explore and sort through my emotions. I have been supressing and fighting my true feelings. I am on a fact finding mission. This is the first i am expressing any of these feelings. It feels good talking about this.