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So, my therapist had me do a project. Well, ex-therapist. I quit her, but I never did the project. Decided to do it tonight. She wanted me to write about how I felt with my 'conditions.'

Here ya go.

These Things

"Imagine a desert. No beginning and no ending. Nothing in sight but sand and an occasional breeze. It’s humid and agonizingly hot, every breeze that wanders through only seems to increase the heat. Every direction in which you wander only seems to send you in the same looping circles, though you cannot tell because there are no markers and no footprints. Nothing to occupy you while you wander aimlessly and afraid. You feel no thirst in this desert. No hunger in your belly. But instead of these things, you instead suffer such an overwhelming sense of failure that nothing seems worthwhile. Every step you take is agony. Your feet burn from the sand, yet you cannot bare to stand in one spot for too long, fearing you may scream from the pain. Yet it doesn’t matter, because every scream that escapes your lips is silent. Every wail and cry is unheard in this vast and seemingly empty desert of sand and dune. No one can hear your grief. No one can comfort your fear. Ghosts only occupy your mind, though they whisk away as nothing but sand with empty and concerned eyes. There seems to comfort from this burning hell, and nothing seems to comfort and relieve you. It is as if you’re burning apart from the inside out, turning hollow and dark. You think you see shadows of guests in your own personal hell, but alas, they only turn away and disappear into the dunes. Mirages, simply put there to make you hope before making you weep. There seems to be no escape, yet you’re not even sure how you got there to begin with. All you can do is wander, and wait, and hope that someone somewhere will rescue you.

These things are Depression.

 

Imagine that you are within a room. It is a tiny room, to be honest. This tiny room has only four walls of a bland grey, the floor covered in broken and cracked tiles of unidentified color. Should you know this color? Have you forgotten this color? The ceiling is low against you. So low that it actually forces you to remain laid down upon that floor, curled up in an uncomfortable position, struggling to find relief from this frustrating situation. No position seems to help, and every part of your body hurts from the attempts to find one. Not only can you find no comfort, but from places unknown, noise vibrates through these walls. These grey, oddly crowding walls. Are they shrinking? Have they gotten shorter? Perhaps you should have noticed this. Have you gone crazy? These noises make no sense. They jumble together like spilt scrabble pieces, making no sense but reaching you nevertheless. Screams inaudible. Nails upon chalk, a pounding like hundreds of hammers against your little walls. Wailing for unknown ailments, furious yelling as though angry creatures stalk for you. Should you remain quiet? Or are they here to help you? No, you remain quiet. Perhaps it is best. The noises never dull. They never quit, and they never quiet. Unyielding and demanding, these sounds pester and frighten you in your little box. You need something—anything—to lock out those taunting walls and frightening noises. Anything to make it stop, even if just for a moment to offer you repreave. Yet…you dare not move. You dare not breathe. They might hear you. They might tear apart your walls and discover you. Every scream seems to be your name. Every angry cuss feels as though it were directed at you. Every wail seems to be of your cause, filling you with despair. And among these things, the whispers can be heard. Are they mocking you? Perhaps. Are they rumors of your existence, spoken either kindly or of ill will? You’ll never know. Are they perhaps just comments of your agony, or broken and weak attributes? Can they see you in that box? Or perhaps they are nothing at all. Perhaps you’ve simply lost your mind. Is this all a game that you’re failing? Regardless, they persist. Should you listen? It hurts to hear their sounds. But what if it is something important? Maybe you should know these things. If only it were all silent, you could perhaps breathe. The tiny confinement limits your air, cutting away your ability to think clearly with all the noise and that agonizing sense of dry drowning. You want to escape. You want to flee as far and as fast as you can. But instead, you have to wait for someone to open your box and let you out.

These things are Anxiety.

 

Your day begins as it always does. You don’t remember when exactly you fell asleep the night before. Or what woke you up today, for that matter. Regardless, here you are. You stare at the ceiling in a sense of hopeless ambition, feeling as though you’re sinking. You almost hope you do, actually. To sink down so far that you will never have to come out. Yet, you do. You somehow insist on getting up, beginning to dress yourself. What will you wear? Will you conform to society’s demands, or will you do what makes you feel normal? Let us assume for a moment that society rules today. You wear what they demand, a sense of aching in your chest as you slip into the clothes that they deem appropriate. You feel ridiculous and hideous, yet you endure it. Perhaps you wander to the bathroom and paint on a face that is not yours? Wearing a mask with bold lettering stating “I’m fine”. Perhaps you will do something with your hair. You’re not entirely sure what to do with it, because everything you attempt seems odd and unfamiliar. As if you’re modeling yourself in someone else’s image. Someone you are not, yet….someone you are. They say you are. They insist you are. With a heavy sigh and a broken heart, you wander from your room. Will you work today? Will you go to school today? It all blends together regardless. It feels as though all eyes are on you. Every detail of yourself seems flawed and obvious, and everyone is whispering about it. You are desperate to hide, even if for a moment. This isn’t you….This isn’t who you are…but its only for today. Right….?

No, let us instead chose that you decide to be yourself. You set aside those things, and you avoid that mask. It has been put away for now, and you can use your authentic smile and enjoy today. You dress as you wish, and do your hair as you please. Yes, this looks right. This looks pleasing for once. Is that a smile I see? Yes, I think it is, actually. Perhaps today will be fine Perhaps today you will enjoy being out of that bed. But wait…they’re still looking at you. Are they looking even more? I cannot tell, to be honest. But…but wait. Those things you don’t like. They’re hidden, aren’t they? Those things that you wish you could remove yourself, but know it will end you for certain. They cannot be seen can they? But it feels as though everyone sees them. Everyone seems to point, even if not physically. They whisper, they talk, then they giggle. Do they know this is really you? Or do they think this is a mask? Do you blend in, or do you stick out like some freakishly abnormal thumb? Perhaps you will be the mask again tomorrow. Perhaps it is safer. But wait…the mask hurts. But doesn’t this hurt? Nothing seems right.

These things are Dysphoria.

 

Today you are happy. Today you have had no cause of alarm, and you’ve found a rather enjoyable time either playing games or spending time with friends. Your smile is priceless, your joy unavoidable. It seems contagious, as if you have gotten the laughing virus and no one is immune to your illness. You find a smile on the faces of others enjoyable, and you thrive on these things. You giggle and you jump around, having a blast and perhaps even singing without shame. You dance as if your mother will be embarrassed, and you have no shame. But wait…what is this? Where did this darkness come from? Your smile disappears. Your chest aches and you can feel your heart sinking. As if it were a literal disease, your heart sinks into your stomach like the titanic and disappears. You look around, and everyone is still smiling. Why wont they stop smiling? All you can think is “stop smiling at me!”. You want it to stop, and its making you furious. What is this feeling? Where has it come from? Nothing had upset you that you can remember. You were so happy five minutes ago. What changed? People will ask you what they did wrong. You have no answer for them, yet somehow it is annoying that they ask. They will ask you ‘are you angry at me?’ and you will struggle to figure that out. Are you angry with them? But weren’t you just happy with them? Did they do something wrong to you, or have they done something that somehow impacted your emotion? You cant even put words to it. It is as if someone has taken your happy. They have taken that little spark in your eyes and put it in a box, and they’re holding it hostage. Perhaps it will come back. You want people to give it back to you, and you want them to understand that they did nothing wrong. But you wish they’d stop asking you what is wrong. You don’t know what is wrong, and it is frustrating to try and figure it out. But wait, what is this emotion now? Are these new things?

These things are Bipolar.

 

You have your desk, and it is your own. Your own design, your own order, your own creation. Things are just as you please, and nothing can damage that. You know how things are to be done, and how things will work, and these things make life pleasant. You enjoy your things and your desk, your creations and your order. Yes, your order. The patterns in which you place things, making them as your mind has decided ‘yes, this is right’. You will not understand this order, but you will obey this order. You may try to explain it to others around you, but this is a language that they do not understand. You walk away, pleased with this order. But wait, you come back. Someone has altered your design. They have changed your order. These things are not in their places. Your mind falters like a car out of control, screaming tires and smoke. No, no, no, no! This must be corrected! They have changed things! What has been changed? You cannot decide. No, no, this must not be. These things make your head ache, your heart beat rapidly, your hands sweat and your fingers shake. No, this must not be! You scramble to fix these things. People point and laugh. This is amusing to them. They will alter them later simply to watch you panic once more, though they hardly understand the pain your head feels at this moment. These things must not be so. Your order must persist. Your design must be as it was. Your stomach is in knots, as if this alter of design will cause you harm. As if this change of pace will bring forth a sense of dread unknown to man and misunderstood by all who witness it. Wait…yes…yes, this is better. This is your order. Yes, you have fixed this disaster. You have brought peace to this chaos. You’ve done it! You’ve brought back your order, your design, you have recreated the life in which they have destroyed. Yes, you can breathe now. You can breathe. You can relax. All is well, and all shall remain well. So long as the order is kept…

These things are Over Compulsive Disorder.

 

There are more of these things.

Perhaps we will speak of these things later.

These things have made me tired.

Warren G.

"

 

Also my Mom called me Ren. Kind of a big deal, but I'm still cautious about it. It's not like her to cooperate so well....

Hey Ladies and Gents and Robotics of the future who are posing as the usual nerds who actually know the key to the universe but are keeping it secret to watch us make fools of ourselves.

You know, because they're absolute asses.

And face it, we can be rather amusing to watch trip over our own feet sometimes.

Come on people, admit it. You laugh when others run into glass doors.

We're hilarious.

ANYWAY, enough about the stupidity of the human race (which would be solved by removing warning labels, by the way. The universe would sort itself out eventually, to be honest. Removes the morons from the people who actually gained common sense at birth.

You know, because that’s what normal people have. Common sense…

Though sadly I have a feeling that the general population of today’s youth would perish. Sad, but nessesary.

But, once again, I’ve trailed off my train of thought because as some of you know, the rails to my train of thought are as twisted and mangled up as old spegetti you found in your fridge from last Sunday’s dinner.

SO, back on topic.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Life.

Well, life still sorta sucks a little bit. But, what else is new, right?

I went to the doctors office for my usual “lets see if you’re still functioning” visit, and I’ll admit, it could have gone better.

I unfortunately have fallen back into a full swing of my “self harm” issues, and I dare say they’re a little more consistant and addictive as the last phases of it.

So I admitted to my doctor about whats going on, and yes, I had had a few thoughts that I’m not so proud of.

I felt it only beneficial to let her know what were going on through an honest standpoint, and that my antidepressants were as effective to me as water is to a heart attack.

Naturally, she were concerned, and we discussed weening me off from my Lexapro and onto another medication, Zoloft. We’ll see how that goes, but my hopes are….well, hopeful.

Another topic we discussed is my back pain.

She had been aware of it for some time, and had previously suggested pain killers such as ibuprofen or Tylenol, which I advised her that was unhelpful, and she was nice enough to not question it.

She asked me where it hurt (which is right between my shoulders most days) and as I moved my arm up to point to the area, low and behold, my shoulder popped. Not uncommon for me, it’s been an issue since I were a very young teen.

Alarmed, she investigated, and her theory is that the weight that my bra straps had put on my shoulders as a young adult has damaged the way my shoulders matured, which makes them pop a lot. Possible, and completely believable.

When I broke down into tears about not being able to afford my top surgery and how bad my back was killing me, she decided that she would do even further investigating and be more aggressive with trying to find a way to turn my top surgery into a medical nessesity.

Thank Frogging Gerd. (I was asked by a catholic coworker to try and avoid saying the f-bomb or ‘God’, and I’m up for a challenge. Does that One time of saying God count? Crap, is that two? Damn it.)

So in one aspect, I MIGHT be closer to top surgery. No promises, and I’m not fool enough to think that my problems are solved, but I’m not hopeless enough to assume it wont work.

I have previous damage to my spine for falling off a cliff, damage to my ribs and previous damage to my shoulders from them popping out of place from lack of cartilage. Getting rid of some of my top-heavy problems will be beneficial not just to my mental state, but certainly from a medical standpoint to my health.

I don’t want to be eighty years old and unable to stand upright because of years of back problems.

On another note, I received a package today.

EmmaSweet, this shoutout is for you, babydoll ;)

Love, Love, LOVE the book you sent me!

Wonderful pictures, wonderful stories, very inspiring!!

For those who are curious, it was the book called “Transfigurations” by Jana Marcus, and it is phenomenal!

Thank you a million times over :D

Well, I think that just about wraps up this session of rambling and bologna. Impressed that I spelled that right? Yeah, me too.

LATER LADIES AND GENTS,

And a special wink to the nerds. Just cuz’ we fam, yo!

Warren AKA “RenRen”

Family Drama

By WarrenG,

So, my mother doesnt call me, and that is completely fine with me! I do not have contact with my older sister either. And when my younger sibling (Changed their name to Kai apparently which is fine with me. Theyre pretty sure theyre FTM as well but I'm respectful at the fact that they've decided not to make perminate choices on the matter until they are POSITIVE theyre transgender. I GREATLY respect them for that!!) has asked me if they can come down to hang out again at some point. I told them that I have no problem with that, but when I come to pick them up, I'll meet them at the end of the driveway. I want nothing to do with my mother. And I've decided that if my mother refuses to call me Warren OR Ren, I'll no longer call her Mom. I'll call her Alene, either she likes it or not.

So today, there was a post on a friend's page about Trump. I was not aware she was friends with my older sister....until this happened.

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Me, feeling bad it was on my friends' post, Messaged her apologizing for what was said on her post. To my relief, she responded with "Its OK Amanda is the 1 to b apologizing. Well don't sweat it I'm home n can get to my computer she's about to get hers." Which was kinda nice I think.

 

Warren

 

 

UPDATE:

She removed the Post, then Posted this:

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My agony and enduring bull**** continues.

I had to park almost a mile away from work again today, because there were no parking spaces. Then listened to a fifteen minute speech from a manager about how I have no excuse, there is "always parking spaces".

Get into work on time, thankfully. And slam my hand into a door. Yay...

Move my rearend to the front line and start doing my job, and I accidentally drop a 50 pound box of canned goodes right on my foot. THANKS A LOT.

Limping around, I get the usual "are you okay baby girl?" "what happened to your foot, girl?" "Darling, what'd you do?" or my favorite (sarcasm) "Woman, you gotta stop hurting yourself."

GIRL. BABY GIRL. WOMAN. DONT ANY OF YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE KILLING ME!?

It was so hard not to punch someone right square in the jaw and scream in their faces before cackling like a maniac and running away. Oh how I envisioned this....

So after I faked my smiles and did my chores, I went on to do the rest of my job. But I noticed that everyone's looking at me funny. Everyone's whispering when I'm "not looking". What is this?

What's the big secret that no one is sharing?

I ignored it. For now.

But it was becoming maddening.

Lunch hour. FINALLY.

I made myself a wrap and threw random things in it, trying to stick to my diet and ignore all the other yummy looking food on the line.

Get down to the table, and someone SOMEWHERE (i dont know where) snickers "Whats up, queer?"

That's it. I'd had it. I'd finally broke. I turned right around, and walked out, and ate in the rain.

Well, TRIED to eat. The wrap I'd grabbed, the ONLY food I'd grabbed, tasted like crap.

By the time I hauled myself back inside, all the other food had already been cleaned up off the front line. No lunch for me I guess...

I'm at that "I really dont f***ing care anymore" mode.

Go back to work...my phone's dead. Great.

Continue to work, ignore the snickering and whispering around me, buzzing like wasps in my brain.

Pants keep falling down which is pissing me off. Shoelaces wont stay out of the way, boxers wont stay down below my f***ing belly.....it is NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT my day.

I'm sore as hell from working out too much, I can barely lift a damn box, and I've got a constant headache for the past three weeks that now has decided to show its ugly face again.

Went to make some tea and dumped the lava hot water on my hand. Went to grab a bite of something to eat so I dont throw up, and some ***hole took it before I could grab it. Munching on crackers and I nearly choke on one. Go to take a drink of water and I accidentally swallow a piece of ice that nearly slit my throat all the way down.

FINALLY as the work day ended, I'm listening to my music in my headphones as I cleaned, thankfully I MIGHT leave actually on time today, when I get a message on my ipod.

(I roleplay online through my messenger with a friend sometimes to help with stress and give me something to do, usually medieval based)

Go to click to open it....nothing. Click it again.....nothing. Tear my whole freaking protective case off (because I JUST BOUGHT THIS ONE refurbished to replace my broken one) and guess what?

Break? Catch a break? HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! right.

My home button is broken for absolutely no f***ing reason at all, rending the WHOLE thing...absolutely freaking useless.

THANK YOU UNIVERSE, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER?

Universe: You have a flat tire by the way.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Now if I could just get rid of this damn headache, I can maybe pass out. But NOOOOOOO.

We're out of tylenol.

Warren of War

Hello everyone,

I apologize deeply for being gone so long. Life has been a bit chaotic as of late, and with all the winter storms hitting us hard up here in the north, this become even more chaotic.

You guys havent really missed too much, I'll be honest.

Only things that have happened lately is that I didnt go to my therapy session today.

I got a call from Joan at 7am this morning to call off our appointment due to road conditions and black ice, and she did want herself nor I to risk it.

Though a part of me was relieved that I could crawl back into my bed with my boyfriend, another half of me felt like I really really wished she'd risked it.

As bad of me as it is to want someone to risk their safety just so I can go and whine and be a crybaby, I couldnt help it. I've almost grown dependent on our weekly visits together.

Otherwise, it wasnt too bad of a day. Classes for the students I cook for was cancelled due to the weather, though surprisingly I didnt get completely ambushed on serving either. Normally no classes means I get mauled to pieces by 2k students with nothing better to do than eat until they burst.

But, again, with the weather, they didnt want to venture out of their dorms. THANK HEAVENS FOR THAT.

After four inches of very stick snowballs raining from the skies, the weather turned another direction and instead hit 41F and turned to rain. Which, in turn, transformed the whole county into one giant slush pit. Yay....

But, with the bad comes the good, because they let us close down early and go home.

Otherwise..I got bit my a spider o.o

Sorting through grapes, and he just popped out and bit my hand.

So as you can see, nothing too exciting has happened. I havent really heard much back about my estimate for the top surgery, so I'll have to call them now that I've found my cellphone.

(Its only been missing about two weeks! Was in a coat pocket......derp.)

My binders are starting to irritate me a little bit, and I might resort to a sports bra underneath it. Simply because after a while it doesnt do much, and simply makes it look like I am wearing no bra at all (technically im not but its not a good look either).

I'm still looking into getting a REAL binder, though its tough for someone with my bust size.

I'm open to suggestions if anyone has any, I'm not sure what I'm looking for.

Trying to hint to the boyfriend that it can be a christmas gift, until I rethought the idea.

I'd have to open gifts with the family....

With HIS family....

Bad idea to get a binder during christmas.

Yikes!

That's it for now, nothing much else.

Tootles!

Warren

SIDENOTE:

Why do girls talk to themselves so much in the bathroom!!? I go in the bathroom to hide and calm down my anxiety sometimes, and of course I have to use the girls bathroom, as much as I hate it. But everytime I'm in there, all the girls will whisper or mumble and talk to themselves! Its so weird! I'm not racist but I've noticed this habit ESPECIALLY with the spanish or nepali girls. Granted, it cracks me up when I'm hiding in there listening to them talk to themselves, but still.....rather strange.

Ah, it's me again, you're good ol' pal Warren ^_^ I apologize for not having blogged lately, but I had no inspiration to want to nor the time and ambition. I miss blogging, to be honest. But I didnt feel like I had anything to talk about.

Tonight I figured I'd share what I'd been up to.

Well, first of all, my court date for my name change is this Monday the 16th. YAY! So excited :P

I bought myself a nice shirt, pants, and A TIE!!! I've never worn one but I'm super excited! I'll post a picture of myself in my court gear on Monday or Tuesday, and let you know how the name change thing went. Hopefully good, wish me luck!

On a side note, I've decided to go to higher HIGHER management about some problems at work.

Even coworkers have told me that it isnt just my managers being d***s, but theyve turned it into discrimination against me for being transgendered. NONE of this started until I came out.

I took the liberty of writting down what's been going on, so I can explain it to the company H.R.

Here's what I got so far:

[[[[[[[started only two days after announcing a name change and being transgendered.

1 week later, I were accused of "consistantly disappearing" during my shift, which I never did. I simply were not at my station as I were getting things ready for the next day. I were refused the opportunity to speak during the meeting with T___ and Chef H___ while they confronted me about it.

While in the office looking for a paper, T__ came to me aggressively and said "I dont like your attitude. You have a serious attitude problem and it's really starting to wear on me and I'm sick of it. Any time you get an answer you dont like, you cope an attitude."

Both T__ and H__ refuse to call me by my chosen name of Warren, and make a point to tell me that they do not have to unless it is legalized, which I am in the process of doing, and they are aware of that fact.

T__ goes around the kitchen saying that I'm being a b**** or that I'm alway a b****, even though I had not even spoken or seen him yet, as I had not even clocked in for my shift yet.

He consistantly tells everyone that I have a serious attitude problem.

I were told personally by H__ that I need to tell T__, not my shift supervisor, when I go on break. Or it will be like "consistantly disappearing, and we wouldnt want to have to talk to you about that again"

T__ came to me towards cleaning time and got very close to me in an aggressive manner and shouted "I'm so sick of this bull**** with you! Everyone can do their f***ing jobs except for you, and I'm tired of it! Take the f***ing soup and take care of it instead of leaving it for others to do!"

I might note, by the way, that it were normal routine for me to take the soups to the other chefs to dispose of, as was what I were taught and such had not changed with my knowledge.

My boyfriend were confronted by H__ and told "you can only say a quick goodbye to Kristy then leave, because you're taking up too much of her time and she needs to be working, not socializing"

I got lectured for having my hat on backwards, whilest two other people did the same and did not get talked to about it. T___ made a point to follow me around the facility and wait until we were alone in a storage room before telling me I needed to fix my hat.

T___ followed behind me on the front line while carrying hot foods, and repeativly said "hurry up, hurry up, lets go go go go go" while clapping his hands directly behind me.

I feel like I'm being ganged up on, and it's turning into discrimination and just plain obnoxious.

I have told my general manager about it who insisted he would talk to T___, and I'm not sure if he has or not, but nothing has improved.

Nothing else has happened in the past few days, but it's only a matter of time.]]]]]]

Honestly, I'm beyond sick of it. Not only that, but my older sister has officially decided that I am a bad influence for her children and too confusing for them, and has denied me any visitation with them, including cards and phonecalls.

My mother, insisting that she's supportive when she indeed is not, does nothing to defend me on the situation and simply tells me "its her choice. You're making your choices, she is making hers"

I'm sorry, but what choices am I making? I was not aware this condition were voluntary. I suppose being straight is a choice as well? She didnt like that question.

The good news, is all my friends are supportive 100%. My grandfather is supportive, my coworkers (for the most part lol) and others that I know. My cousin Jacky is SUPER supportive!! My boyfriend and I have come to an agreement, and we both sat down to discuss my transition and things that he's not comfortable with.

We agreed that bottom surgery is probably never going to happen, which is fine. He asked that I reconsider hormones, and I told him that after my top surgery, we will discuss it further.

He didnt say anything about it, but I've decided to keep shaving my legs too :P He's doing a lot to accept who I am, I'm not gonna make him snuggle up to a fuzzy legged gorilla! XD

All in all, same s*** different day.

That's my usual motto at work. How you doing? Oh you know, same s***, different day. At least its warming up outside!

Heatwave of a whole whopping 48F today, yay! Now.....mudseason....ugh.

Your frustrated but excited and relieved friend,

Warren

So I cannot remember if I mentioned it or not, but my state just VERY recently approved the law which allows transgender folks to get a piece of paper signed by their doctors for their GENDER IDENTITY and bring it to their local DMV, to legally and without any further need for verification, CHANGE their gender on their drivers license ^_^ Now, IMMEDIATELY when I found out about it I ran to the local library and paid the 50cents to print out a copy, and ran it to my doctor while pleasantly asking that she look it over and see if it's alright for her to sign it. It was incredibly hard not to beg her desperately while pleading on the floor for her to sign the damn thing, but I had to go off faith that she would understand.

So I waited patiently and called the next day to see if she had a chance to read it over, but to my surprise she simply giggled and said "I glanced over it. I trust you. It's already signed but I'd like a copy for my own records so I can change your gender here as well." SO SHE FILLED IT OUT!

So I had a very long day today. It started with running to the doctors to pick up that paper, then I ran to the hospital to pay off my late monthly fees (woman was cranky as hell, rude old brod) then I spent nearly half an hour at the pharmecy waiting for my prescripion (they accidentally filled the wrong one so I had to wait all over again). After that, my boyfriend and I drove about an hour to the "city" to our DMV to file said paperwork. I were there two hours....one and a half hour of that time was spent just waiting in line. While there some (possibly homeless or insane?) gentleman kept following me around and asking if I were going the direction he needed to get to. I explained I dont know my way around that particular city very well, and I were on a bit of a tight scheduel today so I couldnt give him a ride. (Mostly because I REALLY werent comfortable doing it. The guy seemed very strange....and OMGGGG did he REEK of urine!!!) This man fought with the DMV personnel for about an hour about what his name was, not knowing his address, mixing up his birth dates, etc....I kind of felt bad for him and attempted to find him a cab to get to where he was going, but the man were so whack-o I couldnt get him to stand in one spot long enough for the cabbie to pick him up. Oh well, I tried >.<

ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING...................I AM NOW LEGALLY MALE!!! My driver's license will arrive in a few weeks, saying male, NOT female!!

Now, what sort of puzzled me about it was my reaction. When I got my name changed it was incredibly liberating. I was practically dancing in the streets with joy from it, and it made me cry like a big baby who just got given a jar full of cookies for himself. But with the gender thing, yes it made me smile, but it was more like a shrug it off as if "okay, that's done. Finally!". More like a relief than a huge gift. Granted for me it IS a gift. A HUGE gift, considering 4 weeks ago it was not a possibility in my state. But it were not as jaw-dropping amazing as the name change. Nevertheless, I'm thankful!!

On another note:

I GOT THE JOB!!! Monday I go in and sign paperwork ^_^ Which is why I were in such a hurry to get the gender change done, because it'll make paperwork less hectic. I werent sure what else to change quickly beforehand, and the Social Security office were closed so I couldnt do that today. So I'll just explain to my future-boss that it's a little complicated but nothing I cant smooth out soon.

And although I have sadly had to dip into my surgery funds (not the gofundme one, some I had saved on my own) to pay for late medical bills, I'm glad that I'll soon be able to put more money back into it. On a side note, I'm also making more jewelry as I had attempted to earlier this year, and am slightly more hopeful for it. I've started a paypal account, and making products not only because I'm bored, but it seems to soothe me a little. Helpful I guess.

 

Anyway, that's it for now.

Much love,

Warren

I thought it were over. I thought the drama were done. But it hadnt even started yet.

The morning started off with the worse headache I've ever had.

Pushing that aside, I headed to work. For the past week, the radio that I use in my area has been taken by an older and somewhat aggrivating co-worker. Me being kind, I let it go.

True, music helps my anxiety stay back. But I couldnt just take it away from the brute.

But today, I had forgotten my dosage of medications, and I were on edge plus agony from the headache.

With halloween being the next day, I knew that I had a playlist to play the next day during meals for the holiday. My favorite holiday, if you hadnt noticed.

So I went over to have a talk with "Dave".

I could have been mean. I could have been rude. I could have said "hey I want the radio back NOW"

But no....I were trying to be considerate. "Hey Dave, when you're all set can you put the radio back in my area? And I'd really appreciate if you could use a different one tomorrow, I have plans for it tomorrow." Is what I said, calmly.

Which he snapped at me, ranting about how it doesnt belong to just me and that I needed to stop being selfish and rude and etc etc. I told him its a company radio, we're all supposed to share it. So he threw that very comment in my face, saying that I were keeping it all to myself. WHAT!?

So....I broke. "You're such an ***hole" and walked off, beyond annoyed.

So instead of just letting it drop, since he had his precious radio blaring the worst of the oldies, he instead came out ON THE FRONT LINE, in front of CUSTOMERS, screaming at me about how I will NEVER speak to him like that again, and how I were a disrespectful b**** and that I will NEVER use that language towards him again or he'll "Tell Head Chef"

To which I simply shrugged at him the whole time like "whatever" which I think irked him even more.

I stayed composed. Until he left, and everyone were staring at me. I broke...

Holding it back until I were down the hall, I hid in the dry storage room's back corner behind some boxes and punched the daylights out of some canned goods and cardboard boxes, put my steeltoe boots to use against a box, then broke down in an anxiety attack and bawled my pathetic eyes out.

I just couldnt handle it. I couldnt take the stress, the utter and complete BULLS***

One of the deli girls found me and was too freaked out by seeing me cry since I avoid doing so at work, and she ran off to find my boyfriend. Who wasnt very helpful, to be honest.

He just stood there staring at me, seeming unimpressed.

When I went to lean against him for a hug, he again, just stood there. No hug back, no comforting, just stood there. So I told him to just go back to work, and he did without argument or insistence to help me. He just....walked away.

Thanks a lot....

After almost half an hour or so, I finally emerged. Mentally repeating "hes not worth it. just breathe. Dont let them see it."

I had to retreat to the bathroom only once more after that to breathe and such one more time, before emerging once more.

I'm not going to lie, I wanted to cut. I wanted to so badly. I even resorted to attempting to use the rough edge of a scanner card that were on my keychain. Thankfully, nothing I had would have sufficed even in the slightest.

All day, Dave treated me like crap and told everyone I were disrespectful and behaved like a whiney child. He's one to talk.....I wanted to quit my job so badly. I still plan to, once I have another lined up. I'm so done with them......so, so done...

So instead, for the rest of the night, I busied myself doing what I love most. Halloween things.

I cut out bats, I decorated my whole station, made it my own. Got a few compliments on it. And above all.....I HID that damn radio. There's no way hes taking it from me tomorrow. SUCK THAT, DAVE.

He can go spit for all I care.

All I want to focus on is tomorrow.

I dont need them. I dont need their crap. Tomorrow I'm going to just be my character and brush them off my shoulders.

-Warren

Sidenote: I've realized today that I have mastered the skill of "Plastic Face" when I'm breaking and bleeding on the inside. It's becoming rather useful and decieving.

Everyone should have a 'transition song'.

I listen to mine every single day. Every time my transition gets to be too hard or too frustrating.

"Silhouettes" by Avicii is mine. Not only because of the video that comes along with it, but for the lyrics.

"We've come a long way since that day, and we'll never look back at the faded silhouettes."

It means you have to keep looking forward. You're not the person you were back then. You're not the same person you were on the day you decided enough was enough, and you're now you. The REAL you!

I vowed that it'll be the song I listen to before I go in for my top surgery, and I'll listen to it as soon as I come out. Avicii has kept me going with that one simple song, so...soooo many times.

Blaring it in the car, on my headphones, on the stereo....anything. It keeps my head up.

I wanted to take a minute to vent out some encouragement to you guys, and girls even. I had this moment of bursting enthusiasm on my way home tonight, of course, while listening to this song.

One day you will have your moment. Maybe it's already come and you're transitioning. Maybe you're still trying to get up the courage to have your moment of truth. But one day, you'll have it.

And it will be sooooo soooo uplifting and relieving. To finally get it off your chest.

A truth that no one can fully understand and appreciate unless they've been through it.

Since I started my job, my new doctor, and my therapist Joan...I've grown a person.

I was depressed, dare I say suicidal, confused, frustrated, angry, and overweight.

I was stressed. I hated my reflection, I hated my life, my situation, my family…I just wanted out. I soon turned to cutting, slicing away at my arms because the pain numbed the emotions. Hiding in a bathroom stall at work simply to avoid talking to people. Enduring the stinging of my chef’s coat sleeves rubbing against my bandaged and swollen arms, only to increase the agony later that night.

I know it sounds like I’m only being depressing right now but bare with me here for a moment.

That was almost a year ago.

I went from 235pnds to 208pnds. You want to know how? Not with my diet, because it hasn’t changed much. Not with exercise because I don’t get much aside from work.

Happiness.

Comfort.

That’s what I credit it to. I’m a happier person, more comfortable in my own skin.

And that all came from one simple thing. Truth.

Accepting who I am and moving forward to become that man OUTSIDE as much as I was INSIDE.

Acceptance from my boyfriend, and knowing that he’ll be by my side even if I think he’d be best with a real girl. Someone who like to dress up and look pretty.

Acceptance from myself, that I don’t HAVE to be Kristy. I don’t HAVE to put on make up. I don’t HAVE to put on that blouse, or that pretty skirt, and damn it I don’t HAVE to shave my damn legs every night and make my hair perfect and torment myself with the constant images of what I knew people WANTED ME to look like.

I threw aside my faded photograph of the girl my mother raised, and instead started to draw my own picture. Of me. Of Warren.

Point is…be you.

I know that sounds corny but it’s true.

BE TRUE TO YOU.

A quote from Aslan from Chronicles of Narnia was “You doubt your values…don’t. Don’t run from who you are.”

No matter how far I ran or how much makeup I bought or what my dresses looked like, I was running away from my true self. The person I knew I was deep down inside, no matter what people said.

So what, you don’t want to wear that blouse? Then don’t! You want to put on jeans? Damn it, rock those denims! You don’t like bras? Guess what, no one does! Ditch it! Sure, you might have to exchange it for a binder or so but hell, I wake up every morning and put it on and don’t feel HALF as miserable as I did looking at those damn “boulder holders”.

You don’t like heels? Great, they’re uncomfortable anyway! You don’t like makeup? FINE! You’re gorgeous or handsome how you are! You want to try boxers? GOOD ON YA! You’ll love it, theyre comfortable as hell! Cut that hair! Dirty those hands!

Get under the hood of that car, no one can tell you that you cant!

Damn it, same goes for you girls! You like pink? SO WHAT!? I LIKE BLUE! And red, really.

You want to wear a skirt? Well damn it, shave those legs and rock those pastels! You like heels? Good on ya, because I cant stand them! Someone’s gotta do it!

Lacey pink panties? Hell yea, that shit is adorable!

Makeup makes you feel good? PERFECT!!!

That’s….perfect….

It makes you feel good…it makes you happy…it makes you…YOU..

Don’t bow down to society.

You like dolls, you like cars…who cares? True they whisper. True they talk.

But it’s worth it. Every word, every lie, every muttering word they spit.

It’s worth it.

It might not feel like it right now, or tomorrow, or a week from now. But one day you’ll look back and realize it was worth it.

I hated myself back a year ago. I hated going out. I dreaded getting dressed in the morning, and I wanted to burn my wardrobe. I hated my hair, I hated brushing it, hated doing ANYTHING to it. I hated putting on makeup.

Now….I love me. It’s not perfect, and there are certainly things I want to change. But I’m comfortable.

I cried when I cut off all my hair. I cried because I could finally see what I wanted to see.

All those years of standing crouched in the mirror so I could try and imagine myself without breasts. All those years of tucking my hair into a hat to try and picture what I’d look like as a man.

Worth it.

I wake up, rake a hand through my short hair, pull on my boxers and my jeans. I wrestle into my binders and tuck them into my jeans, button up my favorite green shirt, and drop my hat on slightly sideways before lacing up my steeltoe boots.

I stand up, look in the mirror….and I see…ME.

Warren.

Not someone pretending to be who theyre not, just for the sake of salvation from judgement.

We get judged every day, regardless of your gender or orientation.

Theyre judging you for the car you drive. The soda you drink. The socks you wear. The food you eat.

Why not get judged for something that matters?

This matters to me.

Being myself.

Being happy.

And even though I still have a long way to go, I’m comfortable knowing that….

“We’ve come a long way since that day. And we’ll never look back at the faded silhouettes”

Kristy is my faded silhouette.

She was pretty, she was kind, she was shy, but she was scared. And she was depressed. And she was so…so very confused and frustrated, and wanted to endure no more.

She blossomed, she toughened up, she worked on her car and she didn’t give a damn.

She became Warren.

Warren is cute, almost like he skipped puberty and stayed adorable. Warren is kind, he is shy, and he certainly still gets scared. Warren talks to a therapist, but mostly just to give himself a kick in the ass when he needs it. To make himself stop and think and get a move on.

Warren is no longer depressed. Warren is no longer confused, he knows who he is.

HE is HIMSELF.

And you are too, but only if you let yourself be.

You cant blossom if you don’t look at the sunshine. You cant transform if you don’t break out of your cocoon. You cant win a race if you don’t hit the gas. You cant lift that weight if you don’t break a sweat. You cant see the light by hiding in the shadows.

Be who you are.

I cant say it enough, I really cant.

You may be transgendered, but you’re also transformed.

In more ways than one, you have evolved. Or you’re yet to.

If you haven’t yet…don’t fear it. Don’t fight it.

Because it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world.

Walking into a changing room and being directed to the mens rooms when you once shrank away in the women’s room. Or being shown a pair of heels when someone once forced your sparkling piggies into boots or sneakers.

Trying on that skirt for the first time and realizing how wonderful it felt.

Putting on that baggy tshirt because damn it, that ****ing blouse drove you crazy!

Chosing those bangles and earring to match your outfit.

Taking off the jewelry and getting dirty.

It’s different for everyone, but I can promise that everyone has the same smile in the end.

A real smile.

A true smile.

One you’d been hiding, or perhaps you never knew you had.

Be you.

No one else can do it for you.

Warren

So, I need a little advice. But first I want to apologize if I annoy you guys or have fallen away from my "help others" phase and just been stuck in my "fml" stage. I dont mean to :(

Anyway, this is about my boyfriends mother. We live with her and her family, none of which really support me or go along with my name change or anything because its my way of "attention seeking" apparently. But her constantly calling me Kristy and lately, lady, miss, girl, chick, all of which you can tell she is doing simply to upset me, is really starting to upset me. It's getting worse, and it totally messes with my dysphoria and depression and self harm. Which, apparently, is also for attention. According to her. She's even gone as far as to tell my neighbor while talking to her to NOT call me Warren because it is NOT my name and not to "feed into her need for drama".

I guess my question is....this has gone on for about 6 months? Should I just put my foot down and damn the consequences and flat out tell her MY NAME IS NOT KRISTY and tell her I'll ignore what she says unless she calls me ren or warren? Or should I just ignore it...? If she wants to throw me out, I wont be homeless. My neighbor already told me her house is there if it ever came down to it, and I'll always have a place to stay. But I'm just so......SO F***ING sick of being dragged back into my feminine name and past by her.

Tonight I went out and heard a bunch of dishes slamming around, so i went and asked whats up and she said "apparently no one can f***ing do anything except me". I'm like ....what? she snapped "no one's let the f***ing dogs out since i left for work" and i told her i let them out when i got up, and she ignored me. Then she went on to say nothing else got done and i told her 'well...i did the dishwasher..." and she gave me an attitude like "that's it?" More than her precious Princess daughter does. -_-

I'm just severely frustrated and dont know what to do about this....I dont want to make the wrong move...

 

On another hand, tomorrow I have an interview for a Security Personnel position I REALLY REALLY want so wish me luck.

Warren

Work today started off as usual. I got there, I got rid of my backpack and such, got changed into my chef's gear, and got to work. Everything was normal. Well, as normal as it could be, anyway.

That is...until after lunch.

I headed to my locker to get my headphones for my ipod, but something fell out of my locker.

A little piece of paper, folded up, crinkled, and written on.

"Gender Queers Dont belong here, f*** off"

It took me a good five minutes to read this fully, and for it to punch me square in the jaw like I'd been hit and run over by a freight train on the run.

I had to sit down and stare at the note. I looked up at my locker, realizing that my nametag on my locker door was torn to shreds on the floor.

Why cant I get a break? Even a little one....why not?

Nearly numb with hurt, I brought it to my coworker. "Bring it right to the manager!" she gasped, shocked that it had happened. (She knows im transitioning)

I did so, and brought it to him, and showed him. He then shrugged it off as if it were nothing, and threw the note in the trash. Like it were nothing to him, and the whole situation meant nothing.

I broke down, walked outside, curled up and lost it.

After probably five to ten minutes, I eventually calmed down and went back to work.

I was livid that they didnt care. But I couldnt explain to them about WHY it bothered me so much, because then they would know. Then it would click, and they would see what I were hiding.

They'd see into my closed closet doors.

Later, it finally clicked to them how serious this was. The manager took the note out of the trash, apologized to me for "blowing you off", and took the matter to higher management. He then came to me and said basically that this whole situation was bull**** and he will NOT stand for it.

This is all good and such, and great that they're now taking it seriously but...

I just handed in a note that insulted me as a Gender Queer, obviously upset about it...they're going to put 2 and 2 together and realize what's going on.

This is not how I wanted this to come to light.

I dont know what to do...

Warren

Anyone going through the journey of one gender to another KNOWS that every day changes.

For me, I have three stages I could hit. One day, I tollerate it. TOLLERATE it. It's on my mind all day, but I do my best to just do what I'm doing and ignore what's going on.

Then I have my heartbreak days. Days when every instant that I remember what I'm going through and how I'm physically stuck, makes me want to curl up in a bathroom stall and cry till I cant breathe anymore. It physically HURTS to know that I'm stuck as everyone sees me.

Then there's my angry days. Days when every second, every reminder, every person talking to absolutely PISSES me off! Nothing is safe from my fury. I have bruised my chest and face on these days, when I am so angry that I escape all rational thought and just want them Gone. Want ALL of it...just...gone.

These days hit at random, and I cannot tell you "It'll be okay" because at the times they hit, it sure as hell doesnt feel like its going to be okay. Either you want to disappear, cry til you die, or simply strangle the hell out of every person you see.

Someone once told me that because I'm a transman, that's why I get so angry all the time. Imaginary Testosterone in me 0.o But I think they were just trying to make me feel better. Doesnt really seem possible, I dont think.

This morning as I was doing my daily exercise routine, it hit me like a brick. Just a sudden wave of hopeless depression. Lifting weights, doing situps, doing pushups...what am I doing all this for? To shrink my bust size? Doesnt seem to do much...To strengthen my arms and bulk them up to look more masculine? Maybe, but it seems failed.

I ache all day in my shoulders and back from exercising before work, and for what?

I was finishing up my pushups when I couldnt do any more, and just laid there on the floor holding my head, trying not to emotionally lose it.

Why does transitioning have to be so hard? Why cant we just wake up, say "I'm done with you gender, I'm being me now, damit!" and just POOF into what we truely are?

Why do we have to jump through so many damn hoops, try to endure the agony of judgement, and hide in the shadows until society deems us worthy to spread our wings?

It's not fair. When I was younger, I used to CONSTANTLY ask myself "What did I do in a past life that was so agonizingly horrible, that I would be reborn in the WRONG BODY!? What did I do to deserve this?!"

Waking up and getting angry at your reflection. Wanting to do things, only to have your family or friends say "______s dont do that. You're a _____, you're not supposed to do that."

SAYS WHO!? Is there an unwritten book of law about gender roles?! Who ever wrote the book to say girls cant shoot guns, drive fast cars, or dress like men? Who wrote the book to say that men cant wear a dress, look pretty in makeup, play with dolls or get excited about the latest heels?

I want to know who wrote that book. And I want to shove their face into a bowl of lemon juice and strap it there! How could the world be so unfair....

Yet....we endure...dont we?

We shine the brightest we can shine. We raise our chins high and walk where we need to go, regardless of the pointed fingers and staring eyes. We put on our boots or heels, do our hair, and endure the judgement of the world.

We mask the pain, put on our stone cold masks of smiles and grins, while deep inside we're melting away like hot wax. The things we endure...just to be ourselves.

So I got up off that floor, brushed myself off, and took a breath. I put in my headphones, and turned to my favorite song. Growling to myself, I straightened my shoulders, and I punched that floor. I punched it so hard, my knuckle cracked and my fingers swelled. I got back on my knees and fists, and I kept going with the pushups. I kept sweating on that floor, I kept giving my ipod a deathstare below me. Why? Because I have to.

We have to.

We have to be stronger than those staring eyes. We have to be more persistent than those pointed fingers. We have to be braver than the words they speak. We have to be proud. We have to be..us.

What else could we possibly do aside from hide in the shadows?

That will get us nothing but darkness and snickering smirks from the world around us.

I'm done playing pretend.

I'm done playing dressup.

You dont like who I am, you'll just have to find something else to jeer at. Because I dont care anymore.

Kristy is down the drain. I shoved her down that pipe and I turned on the food grinder.

She's dead.

Warren is taking her place, and cutting her hair away. Her waist long hair doesnt exist. Her pretty little red sneakers are in the trash. Her flowing blouses are Warren's rags to wipe his hands on while working on his jeep. Because damnit he likes working on his car, and no one can tell him no anymore.

Warren

P.S.

Song is Silhouettes by Avicii...You should REALLY REALLY look up the music video.

That and Ruby Rose's video for Break Free

Plus basically ANYTHING from Adam Lambert is amazing

Have you ever had to do something, but had to wait to do it? And in that time of waiting, it seems like time ticks by fast when you need it to slow down, and not fast enough when you want it gone?

I suppose everyone has.

But tuesday is really dragging on my mind.

I mean, yeah, I need to see a therapist. I know I do, and I cant deny that.

But in the same sense....I dont want to. I dread it. I dont want to open up. I dont want to sit down and talk to someone about my broken, ignored childhood. I dont want to talk about how losing my Dad literally destroyed me.

And I do NOT want to talk about being the wrong gender.

I guess there's that little part of me that's just scared of what he/she will say.

I've had so....soooo many people come up to me and say "Maybe its just a phase and you dont know it yet" or "Maybe you started the thought out of the blue, and kept it in mind so much that now you believe it" or my favorite one...."Maybe its just for the attention".

If it were for attention....wouldnt I want everyone to know about it? Wouldnt I go to work and just blabber about it to every coworker and customer I see? Why would it make me break down in tears from depression, knowing I'm alone in it in so many ways? I dont want the attention from it.

I dont need the attention.

I just want....I dont know....acceptance. From myself.

To wake up and look in the mirror and smile instead of cringe. To not have to tug on several compression shirts just to keep myself from breaking down. To not have to wear a sweater to bed because I cant stand to see or feel "them" near me.

I just want to be happy.

This past week has been my own personal version of hell.

And I'm seriously...seriously sad to say this..but I broke my resistence. My one and a half month of harm-freedom had been destroyed. My world came crashing down, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, or tell myself that it would be okay, and believe it.

I've added six little scars to my book of memories, and I'm ashamed of it.

I cant tell what's worse though. The fact that I did it..or the fact that no one notices?

It took my boyfriend a good two months to realize that my left arm was littered. And thats with us sleeping together every night, WITHOUT a long sleeve shirt.

At times it feels like no matter what I do or what I pretend to be...I'm still invisable.

A twenty two year old depressed young man, trapped in the body of a scarred, scared, ashamed girl with next to no career, a failing sense of worth, and a hopeless depth of numb agony.

I know looking up is always the best bet. That no matter how deep the hole gets, I can always look up and try to find that bright blue sky. But lately it seems like that blue sky does nothing but rain on me. And instead of getting an umbrella, all I can find is a lightning rod.

So, yes. I'm nervous to have a therapist. I'm nervous as hell to have all this put out in the air, while physically being in front of someone. Online is one thing. I can hide behind me screen. Shed any tears I need to without anyone noticing. Hide my face away in my hood.

But in front of someone....I cant.

I've broken apart so many times, I'm afraid I'm running out of glue to fix it.

I'm almost giving up on it.

Almost digging out that dress he wants me to wear. Almost putting on that hat til my hair grows back. Almost dressing up like his mother nags at me to do.

I'm just so tired of the agony I have to go through, just to be me.

We dont ask to be transgendered. But it happens regardless.

No matter what your religious views are, since I have none, it's unfair. If its God testing me, I cant help but why? Why test someone in such a cruel way? Test me for what? Well I fail. I chose to fail.

No, I dont have the patience for the crap. No, I'm not compassionate towards those who strike me down. And no, I will not turn the other cheek.

For now, I'll fight with what I have left. And hopefully leave the therapists office on tuesday with some sense of purpose.

Its all I can hope for.

Warren

Hello people of the page, this is your friend Warren :P As many of you know and are in the same rocky boat as I am, it's that time of year again. Time to run around like your head's been severed and wrack your brain for those brilliant christmas gift ideas!

I apologize for not being on here to rant and rave very much of late, as not too much as been going on except for the chaos and hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping!

This year though, my Christmas is being spent a little different on a different emotional and physical level due to my attempts of transitioning, and I'm sure that some or all of you know what I mean by this.

This is the first year I'm seeing family and friends on a holiday event dressed mostly as a man. No dresses, no festive ribbons in my hair, no heels, and absolutely NO makeup can be found on this dude this year ;)

Though the first family get together (Bf's family ((i guess we're still together for now)) who never really got the right feel for me to begin with) I only attended for probably the mass of twenty minutes. I'm not a huge fan of his family's get togethers because theyre all so extremely loud and physically affectionate which I'm not entirely comfortable with. I dont like being touched, or having someone in my face most the time. So I opted to leave as quickly as I could, though later I were called "Anti-social" for it. But, that's life.

On a good note: MY SISTER IS HERE FOR CHRISTMAS!!!

My youngest sister Becky is here with me this year, staying with me for the month of December of staying with my mom and siblings. I'm so glad she's here, I missed her so much!

So naturally, since this is the first Christmas that she's with me and the first full blown Christmas for her (my mom doesnt do very much at home for it), of course I SPOILED HER ROTTEN!!!

Her stocking is busting at the seams and the tree is overstocked. I love spoiling her!

But unfortunatly I've had a few roadblocks lately...and I'm not sure why.

Emotional breakdowns.

It started with going Christmas shopping with the bf, my sister, and HIS sister Mel. Now....I'm rather protective of my car. It has certain engine issues that you have to WORK WITH IT else it works too hard and sounds horrible and sucks gas then the check engine light comes on. But we werent sure of the place we were going so....DUN DUN DUUUUUUN. Justin let Mel drive. MY car.

I was so paranoid the whole ride, and it drove me absolutely CRAZY hearing the engine over working itself. I was beside myself with horror and frustration to the point that it gave me an upset stomach. From almost hitting people with my car to slamming on the brakes to swerving to avoid traffic....I swear she was going to be the heartattack I'd been waiting for.

Then something happened....something that hasnt happened in MONTHS!

I had an anxiety enduced panic attack which rendered me UNCONCIOUS.

I passed out cold in the backseat of the car, and when I were woken up by my frightened boyfriend and realized what was going on, I broke down in tears. For some reason every time I wake up from a panic attack, I cry. I'm not sure why. Emotional overload? That was the first spot.

Then.....to get my hair cut. For me, my hair is a big deal because it has been my biggest steps away from womanhood and towards manhood, and it is my own personal statement of "I'm not you're little girl anymore". So when I went to get it trimmed and step away from my bushy bangs, I were told that my usual person was a bit busy since a pipe broke in the salon, so someone else did it. It didnt take her long and she seemed to have done a good enough job.....at the time.

When I stopped at a Walmart afterwards with my boyfriend and sister, we started noticing little things. Like....a random and obvious HOLE in the middle of my bangs (which are crooked and boxlike and annoy the crap out of me -_-) along with a huge patch on the back of my neck that she didnt even trim off. I let my hairdresser know and she said I could come back for it to be fixed, which I feel awful about.

(I broke down and shaved that patch off my neck though, I couldnt take it!)

But on an emotional level, it should NOT have bothered me so much. But I got so worked up about it that I ended up bawling in the privacy of my bathroom, and even took a shower to try and hide the noise. Pathetic!

Then came more emotional issues, breaking down for no reason, hiding in the bathroom, curling up in a ball in bed.....I felt like an emotional wreck and couldnt figure out why it was happening.

Then I realized....I'd forgotten two doses of my medication, it's that horrible horrible "time" of month (I'm being punished with cramps but that's it so far -_-), I'm stressed because all that weight I've worked so hard to lose is coming back with a prescription I have to take, I'm stressed with trying to make this a good Christmas for my little sister, PLUS....I'm on almost Two weeks, if not more, of NO CUTTING. I've passed the "I want to" and gone straight to the emotional breakdowns.

Otherwise........!

THE HOLIDAY IS GREAT.

Well, true, us cooking a Turkey at my mom's house on the 19th resulted in the stove bursting into flames, flour being thrown all over the kitchen, my baby brother screaming like a nutcase and spending three hours airing the smoke out of the house; But otherwise it's been great!

Icing on the cake I guess, something to giggle at later.

I'll never bring another turkey to my mother's house again....XD

I'll post again when I can, and hopefully my issues will get a little better. My plan is to enjoy tomorrow and forget everything else as much as I can, and just ENJOY MYSELF.

Your Friend,

Warren

Sometimes I cant help but wonder if its really just the bipolar that puts me down.

That beats me down, puts me in the dirt, and keeps my face in the sludge while laughing in my face. Ever time I seem to be doing fine…every time things are looking up, something always grabs me by the throat and shoves me back down. Puts me in my place. Regardless of how far I’ve come, regardless of how many people I help, and regardless of how well I can front a smile---its breaking me down just to get up in the mornings.

I don’t want to eat. I cant sleep more than a few hours at night, or eighteen without warning. I cant keep my hands away from my blades, and away from my arm. I cant get up in the morning with optimism without having something, ANYTHING, reminding me that I’m a waste of space and I’m not going anywhere. Maybe no one said anything bad to me. Maybe people finally left me alone for ten minutes without getting in my face. Regardless, I still cannot remove myself from the darkness within the confines of my own mind. There’s times when all I want to do is wander off and start a fight with someone I don’t even know. To feel the crunch of bone under my fist and the sting of broken knuckles. To FEEL SOMETHING. Other than the life crushing depression and anger that swallows me up all the time. Yeah, I have my medications. No, I haven’t been taking them. Why? Because they don’t help me regardless. I can be faithful with them, taking my pills every morning like a good little spud. But that night you’ll still find me curled up and bloodied. You’ll still find me reaching for those blades, and you will absolutely still find me angry at the whole world with no one to blame.

 

 

 

I have no reason to be pissed off. I have no reason to be depressed. But I am.

I feel as though the whole world is against me, although I’m not even out in that world. I stay hidden in my room, moping. Laying in bed in all hours of the day, just staring at the ceiling. Nothing to occupy my time. And if I did have something, I don’t enjoy it. Nothing I do keeps me satisfied for more than an hour or two. I fall asleep at four in the morning, aching with backpain. My head throbbing from furious aggression boiling up with nothing to dispense it on. Every turn I take, something’s blocking the path. Every time I raise my fists to free up my path again, I get lost. Something turns me around, and I start walking in circles. It’s like living in my own personal labrynth, invisible to everyone but me. All the turns look the same, all the paths walked on already. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

I haven’t seen my doctor about any of this because what’s the point? They’ll just give me more medications that make me more sick than healthy. There’s nothing they can do about my overwhelming dysphoria that seems to shred every existence of a calm. I cant look in the mirror without a skull cracking aggressive response to want to shatter the glass with my bare fists. I cant shower without glancing down at myself and wanting to beat and bruise myself until I cant take it anymore. I hate how I look. I hate how I feel. I’m so damn angry all the time I cant even cry.

I mentioned my issues to a professional and all she did was direct me to a suicide hotline. Here’s my input on it though. Anyone who’s suicidal and feels beyond help, isn’t going to SEEK that help. They don’t want to pick up the phone and listen to someone fake up all these reasons that they’re important and need to stick with it! They don’t know you, they don’t know your problems, and even if you explain it, how the hell is one more stranger involved in your life supposed to heal your anguish?

I thought I was doing better. I thought I was getting by.

I thought wrong.

I cant even talk to my sisters without wanting to just shut my ipod off, roll over in bed and play dead. I get angry over nothing. Snap about nothing. Complain then feel like crap for involving other people in my problems. Useless waste of breath, just to ruin someone elses day and drag them down with you. And it's not even their faults. My Sister Des does everything, EVERYTHING she can to try and make me happy. Sending me messages every morning to make sure I'm okay. Trying her best to cheer me up and remind me that words are only words, and no one can ruin my life unless I let them. But.....I just cant stop myself. I have no control over my own emotions anymore.

 I remember being like this when I was sixteen. My only solution was to go out and f*** away my problems with people I hardly knew, just to feel all my energy and anger be used up and wasted away. But it never really got rid of my emotional overload. Just made them fester and question myself. My sexuality, my identity, my personal worth…I just sit here and stare at nothing. Think nothing. Fists shaking and a bountiful pile of bloodied tissue next to me.

Yes, I cut. I’m not even ashamed of it. Why should I be? Some people smoke and get lung cancer. Some people smoke weed and rot their brains. Some people shoot up and destroy their organs. Some people are alcoholics and destroy their lives. I made little slices, watch it bleed, and call it a night. I’m not hurting anyone, and its not going to kill me. It’s no where deep enough to even be a risk. So why f***ing stop? What’s the point?

I don’t want my breasts. I want them gone, and it’s a struggle every day not to just do it myself. I like my hair short, despite the backstabbing crap I hear from my boyfriends mother behind my back about it. I HATE being called a girl all day by her. Being called Kristy. Being told she will never ever accept me as I am. Being lied about. Her and my mother and my older sister running their f***ing mouths saying “SHE is only that sexuality because SHE WANTS ATTENTION”.

“SHE is only transgender because SHE WANTS ATTENTION”

“SHE only cuts herself because SHE WANTS ATTENTION”

“SHE only changed her name because SHE WANTS ATTENTION”

HAVE I GOT YOUR ATTENTION NOW? Because that’s all anyone seems to think that I need. Attention.

When all I really want….is for everyone to leave me alone.

I just….

I just want to feel….okay.  I’m sick of helping everyone else when I know, I KNOW, I cant even help myself. I just want to disappear…

And I don’t know why I’m even blogging this…

But there you go. My blog for the night. Enjoy.

Warren.

Or, I guess, Kristy. Since that's all anyone seems to care about outside of my computer.

Dysphoria was hitting hard today. Has been for the past few days, actually.

Although today while I were at the store, someone in the line behind me called me Sir which was awesome. But it was too hard to enjoy it when I were in pain. I refuse to go anywhere anymore because it hurts...I cant wear my binder anymore. My chest size has AGAIN gone up. Bumping me from a DD to a DDD size. I'll admit, its soul crushing. It made me want to curl up in a ball and cry until it eventually killed me. It hurts....the weight, the binding, my ribs...It just hurts so much. And there's nothing I can do about it. It hurts not only emotionally but physically, more than I could possibly express. My ribs ache like never before, and going to my doctor about it was only a punch in the gut. "Only thing I can suggest is stop binding. There's nothing else I can do to help other than your muscle relaxant meds I gave you..." she said. I dont hate her for it, she's doing what she can. But there's only so much she CAN do.

On top of that, its fourth of July. But here I sit, home by myself, because my boyfriend went with his family to the family BBQ...which I cannot attend without a fight breaking out about me being transgender being a cry for attention. His sister-in-law even had the balls enough to message him with "im here if you ever need to talk about it". Like...really!? Thanks, I know he would appreciate talking to someone now and then, but what about me!? The person the family is shunning!?!?!?

I want my surgery....I want it so bad and there's nothing I can do about it. No loans I can take out I can afford to pay off. They all want 300$ minimum for monthly payments, and I'm lucky to have 20$ in my pocket. I found a place where I can get it dont for 4500$ instead of the 9000$ but its all the way in the bottom of the country. I cant do that....Everything I want or need is so far out of my reach that it just makes me want to curl up and say **** the ****ing world, I'm done.

I cant even bind anymore. And I cant afford a new binder. Even if I could..it hurts......so wtf is the point.......

Only good news is if I change my VT birth certificate to Male, all of NH's documents has to honor that and change things to Male. But, again....what the **** is the point when I'm got DDD breasts that I can no longer hide? Feels like I'm slowly mentally killing myself here....And there's nothing I can do about it.

 

Warren

Update on Life

By WarrenG,

So I realized last night that I hadnt really updated you guys lately. I dont blog NEARLY as much as I used to, but hopefully I can bring it back up at some point :P

So, so far I am LOVING my new job. The people here are SUPER supportive and understanding, and are well aware of me being transgender. They're totally cool with it, and even said that when it comes time for my surgery, as long as I give them a heads up before hand (which I totally would anyway) I can take the 2 weeks off to heal. My boss has been really cool about it and I love coming to work ^_^ 

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As for my youtube, I am still attempting to keep up with it lol I have my new one (probably the shortest vid I've ever done!) and another one coming up at some point in the week. My upload times are scattered now with my new job, since I usually dont get home until around 4am on tuesday so getting up early on wednesday to film and upload is near impossible. I'm so tired! Either way, I'm doing what I can with what I have. Unfortunately my camera on my computer is nearly impossible to use as it freezes and the framerate lags like no other, so I'm reduced to using my ipod to film. Which can be a pain sometimes and looks sooooo unprofessional but....whatever. Use what I got. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3Da5exjrQ8]

 

 

In reference to the top surgery, I DID find a surgeon! The hospital I were originally supposed to go with continues to be stubborn in saying "one year of HRT" is their "policy" and they refuse to deviate from it. So I told them I'd take my business elsewhere. I found another guy who does the top surgeries, and have talked to two people who have also gone to him and said he was great. Only bad review I found about him was about a girl getting lip injections and she sounded whiny and demanding so I didnt take it to heart. He does not require HRT or a year's worth of Gender Therapy (which is great because I called to set up an appointment with one of the gender therapist. The list goes on until next year!!!). Originally my appointment were supposed to be for August 18th but they had to reschedule for September 1st because the surgery consultant is on vacation.Which is longer to wait but I'll just have to deal with it.

So far it's looking like the insurance WILL cover the surgery since I am in pain and discomfort which disrupts my daily life, but until I see the surgeon and get all the info, I cannot be sure. Fingers crossed that they'll cover it!! The back pain has been horrible lately :( I'm now at a 44DDD and my binders hurt to wear, on top of the fact that they dont really seem to do much to hide my "issues" anymore....It's super depressing. While working bar I do get the occassional "mister" or "buddy" or "guy" and "he". But I still get the she, her, miss, etc....There's not much I can do about it. I did mention to my boss out of a joke that it's a pain because sometimes you just cannot correct them without seeming rude, and she patted me on the back and said to give it time. I'm just a super impatient person.

 

Being back on my Zoloft has helped a little bit, but I'm thinking of increasing the dosage (Yes, my doc said I could. She said to finish this week on 25mg then go to my 50mg that I have stashed away from a previous dose). So we'll see how that goes. I have resisted self harm for about a month now, and although I've had nights when I certainly were ready to break that stride, I have so far stayed away from it. I'm hoping to keep staying cut-free, and keeping myself busy at work seems to help. It's nice because a lot of my job, I'm either super busy or on my own out in the woods, which helps. Seclusion sometimes helps the anxiety.

 

Anyways, stay awesome!

Warren

Wazzzzzzzzup!?

I know, I know, it's been forever. I've been super busy here lately and havent gotten a ton of down time to do a blog post, I'm really sorry! Plus my darned computer keyboard is dying so typing for a long while gets very frustrating since about 5 keys dont work unless I beat the crap out of them lol

Not too much to update on really. I'm boring like that :P I've bitten the bullet and decided to finally go see a Chiropractor again and see if they could help out on my back pain. I've seen one before and it didnt help much so I'll admit, I was very very hesitant. Especially since the first appointment costs me a pretty penny of 85$. Plus I dont like people touching me.....

Anyway, my boyfriend recommended me to a guy he went to see by the name of Dr.Bezon. I was really hesitant but went anyway, and when we went through the medical papers and whatnot I DID explain to him that although the paper legally says male, I'm biologically female so I do deal with feminine problems such as lower back pain in menstration, heavy chest from breasts and etc. He understood and didnt question any of it but wrote it down in my file for later reference. I've noticed that instead of using pronouns, he tends to just use the name. For instance, instead of saying "He/she has an appointment" he just uses "Warren has an appointment." Which is kind of nice really. Especially if you're not sure on the person's pronouns!

So I went and I'll admit, my first appointment was rather painful and sore and I was not completely bought yet. I was impressed that he did call and check up on me after my first appointment to make sure that I was doing alright, which he apparently does to all his new patients. Very thoughtful! I've gone back a few times since that first appointment and I've noticed that the more I've been going, the less pain I'm in. It's so nice! I went in today after my 11hr shift (85% if it being seated in a vehicle) with severe pain between my shoulders. This is a common area for my pain and its usually between 7-10 on the 1-10 pain scale. I was extremely sore and hurting and slouching when I went in and he took his time to work out whatever I had going on back here. He was soooo fantastic. Normally its just some popping of my spine and neck and I'm right as rain, but today he actually did something that felt SOOOOOOOOO amazing. It hurt for a moment but he squeezed at my shoulders individually, pulling and pushing on them to "take the weight off your clavical and try and pull your collarbone away from your rotator cuff a little".

I've cracked my collar bone in the past so it wouldnt surprise me at all if it's pushed against a few things in there. But he stretched out my shoulders and omg.....it felt SO good! I lost feeling in my hands momentarily and he explained that it was because he was cutting off bloodflow momentarily so he could pull the muscles back into their original places or something like that. It felt so great....The cracking between my shoulders when I breathe has lessened a bit which is nice, and my nightly headaches have decreased drastically! I was having headaches every single night for weeks, now it's once in a while when I havent had any caffine yet. Apparently the muscle I had tension in thats on the right side of my neck (from looking left all the time while driving on patrol) was putting tension around my scalp and causing the headaches and some of my shoulder pain.

 

Also (several years ago, when I was 8 years old) I was rock climbing and fell 15 feet when I grabbed a snake instead of a rock. He thinks that the fall and the way I landed reversed part of my spinal curve which would cause a lot of my back pain. He's working on reversing that which isnt easy considering all the years and years that it's been messed up. But I'm very confident that he is being a massive help! I'll continue to go as often as I can, especially since my insurance covers it 100% which is EPIC!!

 

On another note, I reapply for my surgery this week. I was supposed to apply tomorrow (wednesday) but I realized that the appointment for my lab work (TSH test for my thyroid. Very routine.) was too close to my actual doctors appointment and it wouldnt give it enough time to process before seeing my doctor; so we moved it to testing tomorrow, appointment on Thursday. Which works for me, really lol So there's that, and hopefully (please please please PLEASE......) I'll get a quick (and good!!!) response on my surgery.

Also, for the FIRST TIME EVERRRRRRRRR, I voted today lol NH primaries were today and I decided it was time to contribute. I'm really really REALLY hoping the person I voted for will reach the white house....All the other candidates spell really bad bad vibes for the Transgender community....

Anyway, not much else going on. I have become rather good friends with all my alts now. To my knowledge, there are 6 of us. (One popped up randomly recently but I kind of like him lol he's funny :P He's like a caffine-filled chipmunk with ADHD lol)

Milo (sliding scale age, but normally around 8 years), Mathias (age 16), Abriella (age 23), Alexandru (age 23) and Benji (age 18). 

It's so SOOOO weird to refer to myself as they/them/we sometimes. I'm still getting used to the idea of having Multiple Personalities but at times...I'm thankful for it. It makes me more open minded and I'll be honest, its nice to sometimes not have to deal with work and just tune everything out and 'sleep' while Alex takes over....Call me lazy but it's kind of nice.

 

Anyway, that's enough out of the insane nut in the peanut gallery.

Tootles!

-Ren

 

P.S.

A HUGE HUGE HUGE THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!, to Emma for her amazing gift towards my surgery. It was a huge spirit lifter and made me feel insanely good :) You're amazing! Unfortunatly Gofundme made me withdraw the funds from the account due to inactivity or something. But I'm going to get an unopenable money bank to put in my room and the whole check is going in it to keep saving up! I sadly had to spend a lot of my home-earned funds for bills :( school vacation really cut back on my hours for a long month so I lost a lot of hours and $ on my paycheck, so I had to use some of my earned funds on rent and registering my vehicle (ITS INSANE HOW MUCH THEY CHARGE YOU FOR THAT!!!). 

All in due time ^_^ I'd love to send out thank-you cards to everyone who has contributed to my surgery funds so please (if you're okay with it!) let me know your addresses? It's the least I can do!!! (If you're not comfy with it, that's totally cool too, just know how much I greatly appreciate you!!)

<3 

 

Updated pic :P Seriously loving my tattoo and rare manliness....

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So my insurance has told me flat out (cant remember if I told you guys but here's a recap) no. Unless my ID says female, they will not consider my application for surgery assistance. They can only process it as male, which would go under cosmetic which they dont cover -_-

SO, I called the DMV for my state and talked to them. I asked them "I have already changed my ID to my identifying gender. Can I change it back temporarily and then put it back to my current gender later?" Odd question, naturally. So after I talked to the woman about it and explained my situation, she understood but then asked "Wait..your gender is already changed? Without your bottom surgery?" I said yes.

"The law for our state dictates that you cannot change your gender without bottom surgery....Did you falsify paperwork??"

Um. WHAT?! NO!

We hashed it out and I had to talk to an officer AND their supervisor and we sorted out the issue. Apparently when I got my gender marker changed, it was in a matter of HOURS before the law was effective and therefor my ID IS  legal and I avoid a 5k$ state fine for False Identification and Falsifying State Paperwork and information. Scary!!!!

But we talked about it and she basically said that my ID is on the edge of a cliff. I'm safe if I leave it alone, but if I switch it now--I wont be able to switch it back afterwards without bottom surgery. WHAT!? So now my ID is stuck the way it is, so I cannot change it for insurance. On top of that though, she did advise that I go and find a lawyer and talk to them about my Transgender Protection rights for our state with State Insurance as it is usually policy not to deny Transgender Surgeries because it being "cosmetic." 

So, recap.

I almost got fined 5k$ but I wont be fined because I got there before closing. My ID is fine and I do not have to change it. I cannot change it without it being a problem (also that puts my Doc at risk for false info if I ask her to sign off on it a second time). Get a lawyer (I dont have the funds for that...) and keep saving up money on my gofundme account.

So basically...I got no where.

And the 20 tries to call my homestate in regards to STILL not having a revised Birth Certificate ended up with a busy signal every time.

So they're dragging their rears, same as always. Dude, it's been over a year already! LETS GO, TURKEYS!

 

As a side note, I have 483$ saved up for my surgery. Then I realized that I need 500$ just for a day reservation fee, so none of that money actually goes into the 9k$ needed for the surgery itself. Oi vey....

I'm so tired of running in circles....x.x

This long path is turning into a quest of unbelievable extent.

Ren

(Gofundme.com/givewarrenahand)

So, I went north (3 hr drive) and got my little sister for a week with me. So far it had been great!

I finally got her to eat (shed been basically starving herself) and she's been eating randomly the whole time, which is awesome. (She's 16). She's kept up her end of the deal and hasnt done any self harm, and neither have I. We've both behaved.

I've been spoiling her rotten, and I love it ^_^ Bought her a new necklace which she hasnt taken off since we bought it, new earrings since none of her other ones match anymore, and did what she'd always wanted and took her to a salon to get her hair cut. She loves it! We also went and bought some hair dye and dyed our hair (one bottle was enough for both of us to do the same color XD).

We look so alive now LOL

But the day was full of surprises. We were at a store, and I moved aside for a man. And in return, he said "Excuse me, sir" which caught both me and my sister offguard. And I loved it!

Later that day, we were wandering another store and someone asked me "Can I get you anything, sir?" again. Loved it.

This happened about four times, and I was so excited!!

Well after a day full of shopping and whatnot with her, we headed home. It was all good, she was really happy, and she headed to bed.

So I went to my room, and that's when it crashed.

I cuddled with my boyfriend for a little while, we hung out and whatnot, and then he hit me with an acid bomb to the heart.

"Can you do me a favor?" he asked me. I said "sure" and thought not much of it. Then his response was "Can you wear more dress up shirts? Like when we go out somewhere its fine, you can wear your normal stuff. But otherwise..."

He wants me..to dress like a girl again.

I'm not going to lie...it hurt. It was like being stabbed in the chest with a rusty dagger someone found in the mud. I tried to ignore it, and I tried to keep calm about it. But when he was trying to be affectionate and whatnot and my "blahness" was part of the attention, I couldnt take it anymore.

I hate them. More than I've hated anything.

So I got upset, he got upset, I bawled and left.

Why is it that no matter how much he says he understands and any progress we make on it...he still somehow reverts back to wanting me to do something girly. To wear certain things or do certain things or act a certain way....It hurts.

I dont know how much I can deal with.

-Warren

I apologize, first of all, for not being here very much the past few days.

I very much appreciate all the kind messages from you guys in concerns to my wellbeing, but please do not be insulted that I did not reply to your messages.

It's been sort of a habit of mine of late...

Online-friends will message my kik or skype, and I read them...Please know that I DO read them.

But...I cant get myself to reply. I have no words in mind, no fake smiles to share, or motives for my disappearance.

In truth, I have found that hole I used to hide in, and have fallen deep into it.

Fallen so deep that it is hard to decide what is up and what is down. I'm not sure what's wrong with me, to be honest. I'm just....so angry....and I dont know why.

I'm angry at everyone, all the time, over nothing. I'll wake up fine, and it'll be a normal day. Then it just hits me, without me even realizing it...I'm snapping at everyone, glaring at everyone, just all around being a very angry person.

I dont understand it either, and unfortunately it has made for a very stressful week.

When I'm not angry, I'm pitifully depressed.

My therapist has asked "do you think your emotions and depression and anxiety problems root from your gender identity problem?" and I had immediatly responded with yes.

But sometimes I wonder if its not.

I know these things have to come from somewhere, and depression doesnt just spring out of thin air. I know every branch has a tree, has a root, sourced from a seed.

But will being who I really am....really make me happy?

Will I really be able to wake up and start the day without wanting to curl up into a ball? I dont know. And I'll be honest with you guys, completely ****ing honest....I'm scared.

Scared that I'll go through all this, do what I need to do, lose a lot of friends and possibly my boyfriend...only to find out that it's not what I really wanted.

What if the man I turn into, isnt who I've been seeing in the mirror all these years?

I'm not going to lie. Not even a little.

It scares the **** out of me...when I think about that. I've heard the stories of transguys doing everything, only to realize that who they were 'pretending' to be was really who they were.

I've become afraid of intimacy in my whole confusion of self-identity. I dont like certain activities anymore. I avoid them. Sure I'll do it if it's only me, but otherwise....I dread it. And I dont even know why.

What's bugging me on a sidenote of ^^that^^ is the pain. I get the most annoying pain/cramping afterwards, for up to two days. No one knows why...Mentally I keep laughing it off and saying "It's my male side feeling violated and is angry at me". But medically it is kind of annoying.

I dont know...I just felt like rambling.

My harming has come back in a full swing, and I was stupid and didnt use cleaning alcohol before/after so now its all red and sore as hell.

I dont know why I do the things I do. I dont know why I say the things I say, or think the things I think, or act the way I act.

I just....do.

I cant help that. And even if you said I did, I wouldnt know where to begin.

I have another appointment with "Joan" on tuesday. I'm honestly not looking forward to it. At this point, I'd rather just curl up in bed and flip "the bird" at the world.

I dont want to deal with this crap anymore, especially when I dont know what crap I'm sick of, or why. I just am.

Good news is I lost more weight. Bad news is I dont know if its from the exercise that I've stopped doing, or just from my mood this week. Yay, I think?

Warren

P.S.

If you guys need my kik, just private message me. I get your private messages in my emails on my ipod, but cant respond til I get on my laptop, which is never very soon. I can respond better on kik.

I want my surgery.

There is no other way to word it or describe it.

I. want. it.

I'm tired of waiting, and I'm tired of putting 20$ in my savings box every week or so. It's just not cutting it, and I dont feel like I'm getting anywhere at all.

So, I've decided to try something I have never ever done.

Online Sales.

I'm going to make an ebay account and attempt to sell things online to go towards my surgery box!

So, I tried to evaluate my skills. Drawing is acceptable, but I dread the thought of my art in the hands of others. There's no way I could cope with that.

Sewing? Dreadful.

Knitting? Yeah, right -_- can we say disaster?

Clay works? Nope, that's my sister.

When it comes to creativity, I lack it. Aside from book writing, which everyone knows will not do me any good on ebay since I'm self concious about my work plus I dont see how that would be sell-able without copyrights and all that blahness.

So, I've fallen to something cheap to ship, easy to make, and cheap to do.

Jewelry.

Now for me making jewelry (since I've abandoned all girliness) makes me feel extremely gay but I guess that's acceptable being that I'm trans AND bisexual. I'm allowed to be a little gay ;)

But regardless....I NEED IDEAS!!!

I dont know where to start, what to make, anything!!

I plan to go to walmart tomorrow with 40$ out of my surgery savings (got to start somewhere) and buy supplies for getting a few pieces done.

Throw them on ebay and see if I get any bites. If I dont, at least I tried. If I do, EPIC!

But I still need ideas. If you guys have any, let me know, and I'll let everyone know ASAP when I get it up and running.

I'm thinking Warren's Wearables. I dont know, needs work I think.

I had something else I was going to tell you guys but I completely forgot o.o well crap.

Tootles!

Warren

This week has been interesting....that for sure...

Well work has improved in terms of being called Warren or Ren (I gave everyone the option to use whichever they prefer, and I have noticed that certain people prefer to use Warren whilest others prefer Ren, and one even likes to call me Renren). There are two in particular who refuse to call me anything aside from Kristy, but theyve gotten the cold shoulder from many who support me because they know it's only out of spite.

So, in terms of work, it has been great.

Still slightly challenging here and there, but much better. I dont mind coming into work anymore because I know that I can finally be myself.

Mike H, the man who took the first steps with the company to make sure I didnt have to hide who I am and got me my name tag, has also made a point to make sure anything with my name on it says Warren. He also makes a point to correct someone if they call me Kristy, and he's been great.

To show him how much of a big deal it is to me, even if others dont think it is, I got him a 10$ gift card to our local pub/grill so he can share an appitizer or drink with his wife on me :)

We've become good friends.

It's nice to have that boost of support.

Support...

You know, normally people overlook such a strong word. It's just a simple word, right? Support?

Well...if you're in the process of something life changing, emotionally tasking and physically exhausting...a little 'support' means the world and beyond.

To have someone who's got your back. To pick you up when you're down, and brush you off so they can tell you 'it's cool, buddy. We're in this together"

My boyfriend, Justin by the way, has been extra awesome. He's improved drastically in terms of understanding and patience, and he's always there to help me or give me advice. Even if he's not sure about the situation, he's always there to help me out.

I met a friend on my game IMVU online, and her name is Destinee. We've been friends for almost a year now, though neither of us expected to still be chitchatting after a week. Thats how most online friendships go. You're the best of friends for about a week or a month and then all of a sudden, you're looking at the username and thinking "who the hell is this person?"

But she's been incredible. She's helped me with the cutting and the depression and everything and anything I had on my mind.

We've adopted eachother as siblings. She is my sister, and I am her brother. She loves me for me, and I return the favor.

Plus her family thinks I'm adorable and promise snuggles when I eventually visit her in California. :P

It's nice to have that. Support.

Love, encouragement....and support.

Families are supposed to support eachother.

I've...never really had that. Even as a child. Growing up, I always felt like I had to fight for attention. I'm one of five siblings, though at the time there were only four of us. My baby brother came much later in life. But as it went, it was my older sister Manda, then me, then my brother Eric, and my baby sister Becky.

My relationship with my mom was always so/so. We didnt always get along, but we didnt hate eachother. My dad....was my hero. Everything about him, I loved.

But I was always second best. Manda was his first, his horse back riding girly girl. They enjoyed horseback riding, which I never really got to be a part of unless it was behind my sister...basking in her shadow. Then my brother, my dad's only son. They enjoyed hunting and playing rough. I never got to because it 'was boy time'. Something I desperatly wanted.

Then of course, my baby sister. His baby, his little girl. They played, they laughed, and they enjoyed running around and being adorable.

Then...there's me.

In between genders, not sure of myself...the boundaries I had been given seemed wrong and unfitting to myself. 'Girls dont do that' seemed incredibly wrong to me. I didnt feel like a girl. Did having girl parts make me a girl? Was that the only astounding feature that could condemn me to a life of dresses and bows in my hair? I didnt want that. How could I not be given the choice?

Any attempts to explain this to my mother was passed off as 'being a tomboy'.

When my father passed away suddenly, I gave up trying to leave my dresses behind.

I just wanted to make my mother happy.

Years passed, and the attention spans never changed. Manda came first a lot of times, despite what she may claim. First to leave the house, first to have her boyfriend, first to get a car and wreck it in the same year....four times in a row. All paid for by my mother.

Any vehicles I wanted I had to help pay half for, and she drove them more than I got to. Thanks...

I was too busy playing 'mr. mom' to have friends. We moved 12 times in 10 years, so I didnt get to make friends anyway. It was just me and my laptop, which they claimed I was on too much anyway.

What other life did I have? Behind a screen was the only time I could be...me.

The attention soon left us all and went to my baby brother Jordan, or one of my mom's 'awesome' boyfriends that she frequently changed about twice a month, if not more.

I gave up keeping count.

The point I'm trying to make here, is support.

I had none.

If I wanted to do something, it was up to me. If I wanted to try something new, it was my own problem. If I tried to explain to my family why my 'weird phase' was me trying to figure out who I was...I was just being an attention whore.

Keeping my "lesbian" activity secret was me just being an attention whore, despite that it was kept secret in fear of my family's opinions.

Me coming out that I were Bisexual was just me just "doing it for attention".

My cutting problem was me "begging for attention."

Finally telling them that I dont want to be a girl and would like to identify as a male......I'm "an attention whore".

Support is a strange and unused word with my family. I didnt always think so. At one point I were sure that they supported me and understood my struggles. That they were alright with it.

Until I found out they were snickering behind my back. Laughing about my troubles.

Refusing to cooperate or call me warren, or male, or even CONSIDER the possibility of allowing the small children of the family to call me Uncle Warren instead of Aunt Kristy.

I snapped.

I wrote them a note over facebook privately. I'd like to share their 'support'.

Me:Hey nevermind the 17th,(i was planning to visit them) I already know how it's gonna go and I don't need another repeat of the last time I was there. I miss my nieces and Becky and Jordan but my problems seem to be inconvenient to you guys and I don't need to get in another fight about it. I've got enough problems and it's pretty clear by now that you two aren't really willing to work with me on it, as if it isn't hard enough already. I figured you'd understand by now that this isn't a f***ing choice and at least try to understand, but it seems like my family are the only people who aren't willing to be supportive and understanding. If you need me you know where to find me. If you can't deal with having another brother then I'm sure you can deal with losing him too. Your choice, I'm not gonna keep ramming my head into a brick wall if you're not gonna listen or at least put your pride away and try and help me.

The responses I got, bits and pieces of a back and forth rant.

My older sister for both herself and my mother:

"Do what ever you want, this has nothing to do with my feeling on ur chose however It does everything to do with the facts and challenges of small kids, if you aren't willing to understand that your changes are confusing to them then I'm sorry but you can't be part of their life's until Ur changes are made and final. They are simply to young to understand and I won't allow them to be more confused about this"

"U are so self wrapped right now u don't even see the problem. Grow up, this isn't about u, my kids are my number 1 important and I'll protect them from being confusion this is starting. Has nothing to do with supporting you, drama queen"

My family....

So. No nieces. No family visits.

I'm no longer welcome home...

The only supporting family I have are those at work, Destinee, my boyfriend and everyone on here. My own blood has decided I’m too embarrassing and confusing for them to handle. I’m not allowed to come home.

And the cherry topper for this all? Remember the fight I had with my sister to begin with, and my mother decided not to support or defend me? She just sat there and watched it unfold. No offer of support or even to join the conversation.

She’s done it again. She never said a word. She let my sister run her mouth, shut me out of their lives…and she never said a word. That’s what kills me.

I never mattered in their lives before today, and now I matter even less to them.

The kicker is I cant even go and complain to my therapist about this. I ditched her.

She weren’t helping me. She weren’t helping me move forward. She knows nothing about transgendered problems, and for lack of better words, she were ‘useless’ to my situation. I were spending 45$ a visit, plus 10$ in gas to get there, to vent about my problems. I can do that for free at my house. I’m beginning to wonder what the point of all this is.

A story hit home yesterday, and I cant stop thinking about it.

#hisnamewaszander

Sincerely Yours,

Your Friend,

Warren…I think.

I'm so excited I can barely think!

Oh my good lawd of doritoz, I've done it!

My name has LEGALLY and FULLY been changed to Warren Renexius Ornan G__!!!

Kristy Susan is a thing of the past, I have been approved for my name change, and my new photo I.D. is in the mail!!

The judge was unbelievably awesome about it! I expected 150 Questions and tried to think of the best answers, but as soon as I walked into her office, she simply smiled.

"Now that I see that you're serious about your transgender lifestyle, I have no problem in signing this right here and right now, no questions asked" she said.

Signed it, gave me the best of luck, and it was done!

I couldnt believe it!

I walked out of that building the happiest I've felt in years, knowing that I can honestly tell people my name is Warren instead of saying "legally its actually kristy, but...."

I feel so liberated! So accomplished and excited!

On top of that, my savings for my surgery (i need 8k) is now up to about 1,500$ ^_^ It's not there, but it's growing!

I'm so excited, I'm not even sure what to blog, but I just wanted to let you guys know ^_^

OFFICIALLY YOURS,

WARREN

Hey, Ladies and Gents and Uniques. It's me again. As I sit here on memorial day, sipping a Mikes Hard Lemonaid, I decided a good random blog was overdue.

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First off, thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. :) It was much appreciated to read them :D. On the note of my trip to the ocean, it....didnt exactly go as planned. At all. We got up at a decent time, stopped at the local gas station and gathered ourselves some drinks for the three hour ride. Everything started out so smoothly! You're starting to catch my hint, arent you? Well, we missed a turn on the busy four-lane interstate, but we soon shrugged it off. We knew we'd get a little lost anyway, so we didnt panic. An added adventure! Well one wrong turn turned into about an extra hour of wandering around cluelessly. Somehow we managed to find ourselves on familiar roads, and headed towards our destination. Plum Island Beach, MA. I love going to the Plum Island Nature Reserve, because they have a wonderful beach. Although it would be mostly closed for Plover season (bird nesting), I knew that the back section would still be open so we'd be all set!

I was very....very mistaken. We pulled up to the entrance, and found ourselves sitting in a line of about eight other cars. No big deal, I thought. We just hit a random rush, that's all. How wrong I was......They were turning people away because they were so full, they had no more room for anyone to even enter. We travelled three hours, only to be told to go away. My heart sunk, and I was destroyed with disappointment. Now grumpy and sulking, I drove us away and headed further up to another beach. But it were the same situation. "Beach Full". So we kept going....and going....and going....We were on the road a total of seven hours. No where to stop, no beaches with room, and after two hours in traffic to travel the distance of ONE mile. I was soooooooooo SO done. I just wanted to go home at this point. I didnt want to deal with it anymore. My depression had already been in full swing this week, and going to the ocean was supposed to be my reprieve from it all. Only for it to be thrown back in my face like....well...sand in my eyes. Only I never got to get to the sand.

The most ocean I saw was whatever I could spot over the guardrails as we drove along the coast. Depressing and infuriating. Eventually I got so annoyed with getting lost AGAIN and not knowing where the hell I were going, that I left the driver's seat and had my boyfriend drive instead. Worst part? This whole trip was to take my little sister to the ocean, who was visiting and looking forward to it. Though she swears its no big deal and she's totally fine with it, I knew she were disappointed. That's what p***ed me off the most. I failed.

On another note, just the day before which totally ruined my hopes-----That CEO I were supposed to talk to? Well, we talked, and he gave me names of two women to get ahold of for some help. One is apparently very popular and into politics, so for her safety, there is NO contact information for her. The other, who we will simply call "K", had a phone number.

So of course I called her. She answered with a rather sharp tone, demanding to know who I was and what I wanted. I explained that I were told to contact her (we had already agreed to call eachother thru an email) and who my friend was who told me who she was, and what my situation was. She seemed rather bent out of shape already, but I couldnt help but detect a bit of annoyance and hostility about the phonecall. She demanded to know what I had done to help my transition, as if questioning my willingness to work for it. I explained that I couldnt do much because my state is limited on help for the transgender individuals, and that since losing my job, I also lost insurance. She demanded to know why I didnt have insurance, and I told her that it's hard to find one right now that will accept me. Then she wanted to know what I had done on my part to get closer to surgery. I informed her that I had managed to save up 2k$ of the 9k$ needed for surgery. She cut me off, demanding to know who told me it was a 9k$ surgery. I told her that it was from the surgeon, and she wanted to know WHO. Name, facility, etc. I told her I didnt remember, because I didnt feel the need to look more into those details until I had the funds to get the surgery. I explained that they told me no surgery without HRT for one full year. At that point, she cut all ties to the conversation. In lack of other ways to explain it, it felt very much like she were, in fact, SCOLDING me for contacting her if I had not had HRT yet. Even though I told her that the main reason for it was because I have no funds to pay for the hormones yet, she still acted as though I were wasting her time. Saying that no one will ever touch any of my surgeries unless I take hormones, in a rather rude and forceful way. I kept my tone even and explained that I understood, apologized for disturbing her, and wished her a good rest of the day. But once I hung up, I will admit, I were reduced to tears.

I'm so tired of the dead ends. The walking in circles for nothing. Ending up empty handed. It seems nothing wants to go my way, or even CLOSE to my way.In hopes that maybe, MAYBE it would help, I did contact the place I used to have a therapist at. One of the things someone has mentioned was that I might get passed hormone requirements IF I have records from a professional stating that I have had transgender dysphoria for a while, and records of me discussing my distaste for starting hormones until after surgery. So I contacted the therapists office and left a message, asking for copies of all my records and notes for a gender therapist later on. Hopefully I'll get a call back tomorrow, and can pick them up later. Not only for future use, but maybe I'll get a better idea on what the hell my therapist was scribbling on her notebook all the time I was with her. Be a good read, anyway.

 

On ANOTHER note (Just noticed I say that a lot. Oh, one more after this!) My hair is cut, dyed, and styled. And I love it :P Although I'm still slightly annoyed with the situation that went on while at the salon (details in previous blog) I cannot deny that she knows how I want my hair and hits the nail on the head every time. The blue color didnt stay like I'd hoped, but it's no big deal. I like the blackness of it. I miss having black hair :) Plus for some reason I feel like I'm more confident with it. Suits me better, I think.

The second note (oh lawd...) is that I am FINALLY going to kick myself in the butt and put together my youtube channel. Although I havent loaded any videos yet, I have it set up and ready to go! DubstepHeartbeat is the name of the channel, and it will be dedicated to personal videos on being transgender, trans tips for ftm AND mtf, my transition experiences, etc. After my intro video, one of the first topics I had been asked to discuss was "not trans enough". I have that pretty well figured out, but I would LOVE any ideas for topics that you guys can think of :) I'd like to post videos weekly, and get the ball rolling. Though I may be doing them in my car every week (only place I can talk openly without people overhearing and being jerks) it'll be an interesting experience nonetheless.

Wish me luck, and talk to you all soon,

Warren 

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