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  1. I'm bored out of my mind (on vacation from work because of spring vacation) so I've taken to Sims 4, exercise, writing and being lazy. But while I sit here, something has come to mind. Sexuality. Someone mentioned it to me and asked what my sexuality is, and I said I "think" I'm bisexual. Well for someone like me who hasnt been fully educated on what certain sexualities are, I cant help but wonder if I'm not fitting that catagory. I mean, men? Hell yes. Girls? Totally. But I really dont have any judgement against ANY gender, really. Now that I've been thrust deep into the world of Transitioning Transgenders, I've come to realize that there is much more than male and female. And the more I realize that, the less I seem to care about what they are. Everyone's fair game and gorgeous to me, really. So that brought up the subject of Pansexuality. I'm not fully aware of what that is, but it seems maybe the best bet? From what I understand, pansexuals are open to male, female, transgenders, crossdressers, etc. I think, from what I was told anyway. Which sort of fits for me, since I really dont care what you identify as. I'm not after your gender. I'm after your personality. Just a random thought I felt like sharing while I half die on this darn exercise stepper thingie that is literally destroying my calves >.< There was a big Hooha about me coming out as Bisexual on facebook, and with all the hype about me being transgender, I think I'll wait a while before mentioning the possibility of pansexuality. Basically its just Bisexuals with wider horizons LOL Forever Curious and Learning, Warren
  2. First off, Happy Transgender Visibility Day. I was sort of expecting more of a hoo-ha at work today for it, like they do for all the other holidays. Even for LGBT awareness day, they do a cake and ribbons and music and such. Today...I asked them to make a cake which he put next to no effort into because he didnt really seem to care, and didnt even put frosting all the way around it. The sign was thrown together in about half a minute, and it didnt even mention what kind of cake it was. Which someone pointed out to me with "Is the fact that the sign doesn't say what kind of cake it is a metaphor that means we should like it no matter what it looks like or what's on the inside?" Which I thought was a good point and it sort of made me feel a little bit better, but the point I was trying to make still went unseen. TDoV isn’t something you’re supposed to just overlook, yet people do. In the LGBT topic, I think that the T and B get strongly overlooked all the time, day in and day out. Simply because people do not understand or cannot relate. Gay is easy to understand. They like the opposite sex both affectionately and sexually. Simply put, and easy to wrap your mind around. Transgenders or Bisexuals is more complicated at times, and I’ve noticed that instead of trying to understand, people would rather just shrug it off and pretend it neither matters nor exists. I may be wrong on this theory but that’s just the way I have seen it so far. In my search for a new therapist, I’ve found countless doctors who treat Gay/Lesbian issues but only two out of twenty cover Bisexual or Transgender/Transexual issues. And even though I know it’s something I’m supposed to fully understand, I’ve yet to uncover that fine line between transGENDER and transSEXUAL. People have sent me links and such to read through it, but with my dyslexia, I can only go so far before everything I read leaves my brain or I get side tracked. I always tell people “Talk to me as if I’m five and make it easy to understand”. Sadly that’s the way I have to have people explain things to me. Feel free to give me your take on the two in the comments, and I’ll do my best to keep up Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked I’ll inset the picture of the cake they did, and although I’m glad that they actually did it, I’m still kind of bummed at the lack of effort they put into it. The baker is an excellent chef, and he worked in a fine dining restaurant making wonderful pastries and gorgeous cakes…..There’s no excuse for this. Aside from he simply didn’t give a s***. Just saying. Again, simply my opinion. The other thing that’s been bugging me (other than the constant depression knowing that my surgery is on a very high shelf that I cant reach) is “Fascination” If one more person pulls me aside for a billion questions (half aren’t appropriate to ask) about being transgendered because I’m “Fascinating”, I’ll explode. There’s a difference between being curious and nosey, and sometimes I have to simply fake being busy and run off before I can finish their questions. I’m sorry, but my sex life is my business, not theirs. And I don’t feel like answering questions about my sex life regarding my transgender “lifestyle”. That’s like me walking up to a complete stranger and going “Hey, hows it going? You have blonde hair, cool! That’s so fascinating! Tell me, how exactly do you **** your boy/girlfriend? Do they enjoy that?” Seriously people……Seriously…. On another note, I found an awesome song that I’ve become absolutely obsessed with. It’s called “You can be king again” By Lauren Aquilina. It’s rather uplifting yet soothing at the same time, and I encourage you guys to check it out. I’ll put a youtube link in the comments momentarily. Anyway, gonna stop here If you guys need to get ahold of me btw, you can find me on Facebook, gofundme, kik or imessage Simply ask, and you shall receive the proper addresses/access Yours as always, Warren
  3. Every now and then, people have to stop and breathe and realize that things they were planning and hoping for...need to wait. It's a depressing and saddening experience, but it's one that we all must have at least once every few miles. Sort of like getting the oil changed in your car, you have to take the time to stop and refresh your fuels and reset your priorities. For me, its the surgery. I know I NEED it to help ease my mind, and make me more comfortable in my own flesh, but I know it's not happening any time soon. As much as I wanted to spend my summer shirtless and enjoying the sun and the cool breeze on my shoulders, I know it's not going to happen. I dont have the funds for it, and I probably wont this year at all. The gofundme account I have up, though I'm blessed that a few have donated so far, I have a feeling wont get me too far. I'm not looking forward to the dreadful heat of wearing a compression shirt, binder AND sports bra under my t-shirt or work shirt this summer....but I'll have to deal with it. It wont go away, and I refuse to wear a bra. Hell even with a bra, I was dying of heat. I cannot imagine the torment that this summer will bring me, as we've been promised an insanely hot summer this year. Swimming is no longer in my pool of options, as I refuse to wear a girl's swimsuit, and there are no swimmers binders for my bust size that will stay on properly. I try not to get upset about it, but I know the truth and it sucks. The good news is my boss has finally decided to grow some nads and started to call me Warren, as he should have done a long time ago. Also I were asked to help host a "Transgender Visability Day" at my place of work, and have talked to the bakery chef about making a Transgender themed cake. I'll take a picture and show it to you guys when it happens, I believe on tuesday. I just felt like ranting and stuff, since it's one of my days off and I'm sitting here like a slug. If anyone feels like taking a peek at my gofundme thingie, its on my profile as my status. Have a ball. Lots of love and snuggles and all that cheesy stuff, Warren
  4. 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
  5. 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 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 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
  6. Did you know that the MTF to FTM percentage is 2.5 versus one? In the 1990s-2002, the estimated count for transgendered MTF was 14,000-20,000, versus the 1,000-8,000 FTM. Of course the numbers HAVE changed since that time, but the ratios stayed about the same. MTF transgenders greatly outnumber the amount of FTM individuals. I'm not sure why, and I'm not sure if we'll ever really know. But the point is, finding any form of anything for a transgender is usually limited down to MTF. I've done some research in attempts to figure out estimates on surgery costs, and sadly I keep hitting dead ends at times, being told they "only treat Male to Female cases" and that they dont know much about "female to male cases". I find that rather frustrating. Why are there so few resources for Transguys? All the medical clinics in my local area within driving reasons only offer surgical advice or support to Male to female. Not that I dont support the MTF, because I totally do! You gals need just as much help as us guys, and I'm totally cool with that. But I hate being so limited. It doesnt seem very fair :/ In the journey to even finding a therapist to chat with about being transgendered, I'd had to tell them that I'm "FTM" because theyve tried to put me with a MTF-only help aid. Though I'm sure that the therapy and whatnot is basically the same, it seems that the percentage of people who help in those sorts of things are generally MTF-only rated. Theres not many who specify on BOTH genders and not just transchicks. Any of you guys out there who are like me and find yourself constantly being turned away because you're a transguy not a transgirl or simply crossdressing, or being assumed you're simply Lesbian for the way you dress or act (which is totally stupid btw), you'll know what I mean when I say "WHAT THE F---!?" Someone once told me (not sure how true it is) that there are more MTF because of a genetic percentage while in the womb. That biological-male children can/do recieve high loads of female hormone from the mother/host, and that plays a large part of the whole transgender process. But biological-female children can only get testosterone/male-hormone from some other source, which makes it more rare to occur. Which makes sense, when you think about it. When a woman has a child, sometimes the hormones from the previous birth or sibling can stay in the womb or whatnot, and linger for the next child. That's why a lot of siblings have very simular features sometimes. It's not just the same mother, its some of the same hormones. I have an older sister ahead of me, but my mom was also very prone to miscarriages. Between me and every one of my four siblings, there were at least two to three miscarriages. Between me and my older sister, there were three. One female, and two male. Maybe I got high levels of extra hormone from the two male children that were never born? I'm not sure how true this whole theory is. Some medical student told me about it, and it seemed to make sense to me at the time. POINT IS: As discouraging as it is to be part of a failing percentage of transgendered, the world hasnt ended. Yes, most of the transgender help that you seek out will be generally populated towards the Transwomen, but it doesnt mean that there are none at all. Though I'm having difficulty finding someone to chill out with who's a transguy, and to get some advice from, it doesnt mean I'll never find it. (I've called several transgender communities in my area/state, and have been told that they normally have only transwomen there or that their medical resources are mainly targeted for the transwomen and they dont have a doctor to help out the transmen. Grr.) Perhaps my therapist that I get to meet finally will be able to help me out. I know they're sending me there not only for the transgender help, but also for my anxiety and depression issues. But hopefully they also took the transgender part of it into account too and didnt shove me with a doctor who knows nothing about us. That would certainly be frustrating, since a lot of my anxiety and depression centers around my gender identity! Hang in there guys, there's always something! "There's always something" Violet from Lemony Snickets Series of Unfortunate Events Warren
  7. 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. 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.
  8. 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
  9. I'm not going to lie, I'm extremely frustrated. Maybe from not taking my meds last night, maybe from being tired, maybe even from just being restless. I'm so frustrated at the moment that I could just scream and start a fist fight. This whole month has been one big bowl of rotten, festering cherries in my face. First I had that fight with my sister, who has now decided that I'm a bad influence around my nieces, therefore she doesnt want me around them so long as I'm going to be warren, not kristy. That's the first straw. Then, the whole "You cant change your work nametag until you change your name legally". The constant judgement and attitude from my head chef and then the HR lady (who confessed to someone else that the only reason shes being a b**** to me is because she thinks I'm hurting my bf by changing. Give me a f***ing break. So you're a b**** to me instead? Thanks a lot!) That got extremely old, Extremely fast. Then, while getting ready to leave for my hour long session of b****ing to my therapist, BOOM, CRASH, SNAP! Down I go. Severely sprained ankle, bruises of purple, black and green all over. Later found out I'd also cracked my shin bone, which they can do literally nothing for but let it heal. THEN I had the lovely embrace of that bastard they call the FLU. Jeez, thanks for that. Coughing and hacking so hard it'd force me to vomit, my head aching, my skin crawling with either sweat or shivers. That was a lovely time.....not! Then I were slapped with the extra detail that I cannot take any form of cough medicine because it counteracts with my lexapro/anti-depressant. Wow, really? Thanks a whole heaping lot! So the docs advice? Deal with it. I had attempted EIGHT TIMES to get to the city and pay the courts a visit to officially change my name. EIGHT F***ING TIMES. Blizzard, car breaks, storms, storms, more storms, and 3 feet of snow in one fall. Finally, on the nineth time, I told my boyfriend ahead of time that I dont give a flying **** what the weather looked like. I was going. So a one hour ride took me almost three. Doing 10mph on the interstate because it's backed up with traffic from severe weather, snow piling up everywhere, cars crashing left and right from idiot drivers not paying attention. The whole ride I kept reminding myself "its just testing you. how badly do you want to be warren?" So I kept going. FINALLY I got to the courthouse, after fighting a map to figure out where I was going. But it wasnt the right place. They sent me to the wrong one. "You need probate court". Fine. Give me directions. Drive another ten minutes. This is probationary court. Are you under probation? No? You need THAT courthouse. Another ten minutes. And another. Another courthouse, another ten minutes, another courthouse. By this time I had visited over seven courthouses and been told I were in the wrong one. It got to the point where I'd refuse to empty my pockets (as Id had to do for every courthouse) or go through the metal detectors. I'd ask the officers right at the door "can I change my name here? No? Bye." I'd lost my patience. Then, after being stuck for 20 minutes at a broken streetlight that rotated turns six times before letting my lane go, I finally reached the actual courthouse that I needed to be at. By this time I were going to be late for work, despite leaving at 6am and not needing to work until noon. FINALLY I handed over the paperwork, paid the 120$, and was informed of a letter I'd get in the mail in about 5 weeks about a court date. Come and talk to a judge, and I'm legally Warren. So, I felt a little better. But then I was late for work and had to move my a**. At which point my car breaks down. It shuts off going down a highway, stalls, wont shift....so I sit on the side of the road for about an hour before it actually moves and gets me to work. I get to work, no problem, when I realize one of the other girls' nametag. Moo. Moo!? Seriously?! I'm not allowed to get my name tag changed to Warren unless I legally change my name, but she can get MOO!? DID SHE LEGALLY CHANGE HER NAME TO MOO!? I DONT F***ING THINK SO!!! So, trying to keep my cool, I spotted the manager (theres several of them, and they constantly butt heads. This one is named Mike H. Normally I hate him.) He was messing with a can opener that my section were given but done use, due to the fact that it literally SHREDS the cans and I deemed it unsafe. I happened to ask him at which point I can get my tags changed, since I had to wait for the paperwork from the court. He seemed confused, arching a brow at me. I explained to him that I am transgendered, and want my name tag changed, but was told I couldnt until I legally changed my name. Which I had officially done, but was waiting for my paperwork. Of course I also mentioned "Moo". He seemed confused. "Who told you that you couldnt?" he asked. I explained, and he became furious. Mike H. is very supportive of diversity with homosexuality, transgenders, crossdressers, etc. The school that I work in PRIDES itself on their openness and support to the LGBT. Yet...clearly under his nose the whole time, was judgement and descrimination towards me because I'm transgender. He FLIPPED. A LID. He swore to get to the bottom of it, get my nametag, and take care of the problem. He did as he said. I have my nametag, I have his oath of support, and he even informed me that if ANYONE says ANYTHING against my situation, to tell him immediatly and he'll 'take care of it'. So on one small note, it was a very good day. He insists on calling me Warren, and he has no problem remembering it. He says it a little more than needed, perhaps to make me feel confident or perhaps just to remind himself of it so he doesnt slip up. But nevertheless, it's improved. I'm going to leave this ranting, raging, venting blog here, on a good note. My name change is official. I'm waiting on the judge and my paperwork, and I'm officially Warren. Kristy will be a name of the past. My job has officially been kicked square in the a**, and I can walk around being known as Warren, and legit be able to tell people "name tag says Warren. I had a name change, please dont call me kristy". Now.....to tell the boyfriends parents....hrm. OFFICIALLY YOURS, Warren
  10. 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
  11. As I said, it's 5am. 5:47am to be exact..... I wanted to write a blog, and try and toss down some of the emotions that are keeping me awake but at the moment...I feel like my brain has shut off completely. I'm not sure what to say, or how express myself right now. I had a breakdown last night...I'd been wearing a lose sportsbra to bed at night because I absolutely HATE the feeling of "them" having any freedom while I'm trying to sleep. But last night...I knew I had to take it off. It needed to be washed, and it's not healthy to leave it on all the time. Instantly I got frustrated with "them". They were heavy, in my way, I couldnt get comfortable no matter what I did or what position I found myself in....I just couldnt take it. I broke down bawling my pathetic eyes out because I hate them so much, it makes me depressed and miserable...but there's nothing I can do about it. I dont have 8000$ I literally cannot even express how much I hate them....just looking at them makes me want to cry. I get so angry just trying to wrestle into my binding shirts every day. I die of heat in an 80F kitchen every day, wearing three shirts UNDER my heavy chefs coat...but I feel like if I take them off and not bind them down, everyone can see them. I tried that one time. ONCE. And you know what happened? I left work. I told them I fell outside and hurt my back, and really needed to go home. So I did. I lied, and faked injury...because I was so embarrassed to have something I were born with. Some people dont understand, no matter how much I explain, until I have a complete mental breakdown and bawl my eyes out because I cant rip them off and throw them away. I want to punch girls in the face for saying "mine are so tiny" because I'd kill for it. I would literally rip them off and give them away if I could... I know you guys understand that to a degree, and I'll never fully understand how it feels to me MTF any more than you'll know what its like to be FTM. Because every side is different, though in some ways the same. But I feel like sometimes...not all the time! But sometimes FTMs have it bad... There is no happy medium for guys like me. I hit 13 years old and was struck with 32Ds....AT 13. I begged my mom for a breast reduction. BEGGED HER. But she told me no, I was too young. The doctor even recommended it to help me with back pain. But she still said no. Slowly they forgot about me, and it was never offered again. But I wanted it so bad....until I realized I'd never be happy with a reduction. I'd want them gone. Completely, no reduced, but GONE GONE. Then tonight, about ten minutes ago actually, I randomly decided to look up FTM on the oh-so-mighty awesomeness of Youtube. Hey, why not, right? I'll admit, almost every single transition video I watched brought a smile to my face and tears to my eyes...but they made me angry. Angry, frustrated, depressed...... I want what they have. I literally thought think of nothing else. "I want that." I want to go through the whole process. I want those awesome results, that insane happiness of feeling at least 98% complete. Damn it, I WANT THAT. But.... I dont, and I cant...at least not for...jeez....YEARS... I feel like I'll never get there. I'm closer, yes. Much closer than I was in Janurary 2014! But for me it just doesnt feel like enough... It'll never feel like enough until my I.D. says Warren, Male, 198pnds, NOT kristy, female, 210 I dont want to say it, but I ****ing hate my body. There, said it. I really...really....REALLY ****ing hate the cards I've been dealt. And yes, I have gotten to those crying fits were I spit out "why me" and "its not fair". I'm sure we all have. But at what point am I going to be okay with this crap? I say I'm toughing it out and the world can suck it, and that's true! I'm toughing it out TOWARDS OTHERS. I'm ignoring what OTHER PEOPLE SAY. I'm being me as best I can! But I cant ignore my own fears, frustrations, and unbelievable anger towards my family, my body, hell even my doctor and therapist. I feel like I'm the only one trying to win this war, and everyone else is just nodding at me and saying "yup, cool, keep doing that" while they sit there eating popcorn. I havent gone back to cutting and I'm doing my very very best to keep that going. But god damn it no matter how many swears, CAPSLOCK and god knows what else I type or say or do, it will never EVER express how much I hate this war. Arguing with my reflection, debating with my wardrobe, and bickering with my selfconciousness. I think I finally understand what they mean by "Battle of the Brain" or "Battle of Wits" My war isnt with my binder, and the world around me. It's not with the judgement that's passed regardless of what I do or what I dont do. It's with myself. I cant seem to sit myself down and tell myself to slow down and take it easy. I've never been patient. But I know what I want, and I want it now. Not next year, not five years from now, and certainly not when I'm 30. But the more I push forward, seems like the more I hit brick walls. And like I usually do in minecraft, I forgot my damn pickaxe in my other world. The Game is Kicking my ***, Warren
  12. Well theres good parts and of course, bad parts, to life in general. It started out where a lot of stress comes from in any average american, regardless of sexuality, gender, or lifestyle. Your workplace. My mind was deadset and my plans set, and I walked in with confidence and pride. I wanted my name tag officially changed away from my feminine name and to my male nickname of 'Ren'. I was so set on it, I had my whole heart bursting with excitement. One little tiny piece of plastic to wear every day to remind me of who I am, and that no one could take it away from me. That it would be me. Mine. Upon requesting a change of nametag, I were told that the H.R. woman would have to ask my supervisor/head chef about it first. Confused and seeming a little put off by the notion....he denied my request. That until I get my name legally changed....he refuses to allow me to have my name tag changed. A non-binding piece of plastic...something that would make next to no difference in the world to anyone but me...but he said no. Personally, if I may be so bold....it felt more like a personal disapproval on his part rather than professional opinion. Almost like he didnt understand why I wanted my name changed, and when he did....and he realized what was slowly developing between my change of appearance and then to my change of name...its like him saying "Not in my kitchen, you wont." It hurt...it STILL hurts. Though I am very proud to say that my relationship with my boyfriend has skyrocketed into support and understanding. He fully supports me and is assisting me in legally changing my name, and I'm going to call the courthouse tomorrow to pick up my paperwork and get that started. Not only to support me and make me happier but in spite of OUR boss being negative about the situation, he has decided to start calling me Ren whilest at work, instead of my feminine name. It makes me smile and tingle in my heart every time he does, and he started to do so without me even asking it of him. He did it of his own choice, and to me, that's the best and brightest part of it all. The Bad Turns: I brought my littlest sister home after a month long visit, and it pained my heart so badly to bring her back. I know how my mother treats her, and I know that my oldest sister is the worst offender. But I cannot legally keep her here, and I cant yet finacially support her either. Justin and I are in the process of looking for a two bedroom apartment near us so that we can let her move in with us, but we have to wait impatiently for our taxes to come back, pool it all together, and see what we can do. Upon visiting with my family while at my mom's house, I was painfully aware of the little comments and hints my older sister was throwing out. I know she doesnt approve nor understand me being male when she's always known me as a sister. She does this in public as well, and makes a point to loudly call me her sister in front of others to embarrass me or confuse people. But that day....I'd had enough. My family and I were discussing name changes, and that my mom and 19 year old brother want to leave their last names for my mom's maiden name. I voiced my opinion that I could never do that, as it is my father's last name, and since his passing away; its the only thing I have left of him. Despite taunting that I get for the last name, I carry it with pride and defend it because not only is it my right, it is my family, my life, and my heritage. I said "It's all I have left of dad, and eventually I'm going to legally have his Middle name in his honor". To which my older sister replied "Yeah because you'll never have his gender, no matter what you do." and she laughed about it. It stung, and I snapped. I gave Justin the nod to signify that I wanted to leave, and my sister began to scream and yell at me for being a coward and wanting to leave. I dont remember what was said, but there were a lot of tears, a lot of screaming. I gave my mom a hug to let her know that it was between me and my sister and not her fault, and all the kids came to my aid with love and hugs, and I was on my way. I bawled my eyes out. Not only because I dont like having those fights, or fighting in general because it pumps up my anxiety....But the fact that my sister's disapproval of who I am had gotten so drastic that she's taken up the full time effort to throw it in my face. That's when I also decided...I dont care anymore. I'm changing my name. I'm being myself. And frankly.....everyone who disapproves can kiss my ***. I'm done pleasing the world. My boss will get over it, or I'll go over his head for descrimination. It's an equal opportunity employment and the company prides themselves on diversity for all genders, races, sexualities, nationalities, etc. If he's choosing to go against their open door policy, he'll be in a world of hurt. If my sister doesnt approve, she can simply keep talking because I'm no longer listening. Even if the world decides to crush me for it, I'll still be a shining, crushed pile of manliness. You wont find a hair tie, pink blouse or skirt on me. If you dont like my boxers, dont look. If you dont like my haircut, dont look. If you dont like the way I talk, act, walk, or be myself....keep walking. Because THIS dude dont give a ****. I'm done with it. I am Warren Renexius Ornan G. And if they dont like it, they can shove it. --Warren ON A SIDE NOTE: Slipped and fell on the ice on my way to my car today, severely sprained my ankle, bruised my shin muscles and bruised my achilles' tendon. Two days off work for me >.<
  13. WarrenG

    I'm Still Here

    Like the title of one of my favorite songs, "I'm Still Here" I havent forgotten anyone, and I havent fallen off the face of the planet either! This month has been rather hectic for me, in truth. December begs to be a difficult time for everyone, naturally, since everyone has SOMETHING going on for the holidays, no matter how much of a hermit you plead to be. For me this year, I was blessed with the company of my little sister for the month. For me, it's a huge thing, and I were doing my absolute best to make the most of every day. As her visit is slowly coming to a close (she leaves the 17th poo) things are starting to calm down a little, and I have unusually woken up rather early today. So why not post a quick blog?? We went to the movies, went out to dinner several times, shopping, etc. Spoiled her rotten, I dare say! As for my own personal moments, there havent been too many worth noting, to be honest. I cut my hair even shorter, and by god to I love it!! It's so much more comfortable and....well...me! I style it how I want it, and I've never been happier with...well my face I guess! XD Though I've noticed changes. Not in me, in particular, but those around me. The strangers that pass me by as I shop with my sister or boyfriend. The glances that repeat and the glares that persist. I thought the bathroom issues were troublesome before, boy I had no idea how easy it was back then. Now that I'm convincing the world of my manliness....bathroom situations have gotten that much more awkward. Of course I still cannot venture into the men's room as of yet. But the glares I get in the womens room....yikes. One woman went as far as to glare at me and mumble "f***ing f**s" I guess she wasnt wrong, really. As a Bisexual Transgender, in one way or another I guess I am a f**. I dont take that as insulting, because it sort of is the truth. I dont mind But the tone and choice of muttering is what got to me, really. I brushed it off and like any other day, just pretended I was the only one who’d notice my unusual awesomeness. I cant remember if I told you all about my experience with buying alcohol…..Either way, here’s a recap. A few months ago, I had gone in to buy a 6pack of my favorite Blood Orange from Mike’s Hard. Delicious, but seasonal, which is unfortunate. But anyway, I wanted to get some as it is seasonal and wouldn’t be out for very long. ANYWAY, I went up to the register and attempted to buy it, and so came the ‘carding’. But she wouldn’t accept my I.D. So she called in her manager, who also would not accept my I.D. because it “simply is not your I.D.” So…they called the cops too. An officer came, looked at my I.D. and shook his head. He said he could see ‘some’ resemblance but was yet convinced, so he asked for me to show to other forms of I.D. So after handing over my S.S. card and my library card, along with my work/campus I.D., he finally let me off the hook and I left with booze in hand. But with the recommendation that I get the photo on my I.D. changed as soon as I could. Especially in case I were to get pulled over for something! So….I DID!! It took a little convincing and again, I had to hand over other forms of I.D. to prove that it was my own. Which in a way made me feel good because my transition is convincing! I’ll add the photo soon On New Years I had a bit of a falling out with my boyfriend, which I sort of expected to happen anyway since things had begun to get so rough. In the moment when neither of us wanted to walk away, he finally stood up and demanded I stay and that we work this out, convinced that he’d be alone for the rest of his life if I left because he didn’t want anyone else. Honestly I cried so hard that my head hurt for three days afterwards, but we worked it out. Dare I say, and knock on wood, but our relationship has been better than ever since. We agreed that we’d talk about whatever is going on at the end of every single month, because we both have the habit of bottling up our emotions and keeping quiet until we explode. So hopefully, in that department, I’m better than ever As another plus, I went to the bank to cash in my unemployment check (laid off from Dec 19th till Jan 19th, and I get a whole whopping 48$ a week jeez, thanks.) and the woman had to actually stop and ask “Are you Justin or Kristy?” I wanted to hug her for even asking! It felt silly, but awesome. Even Justin chuckled at it, because he knew it made me happy to have my gender questioned. Then when trying on new pants at walmart, the woman assumed of my gender role and automatically sent me to the men’s dressing room instead of the women’s. It’s tiny little things like that, that make my day complete. It’s awesome, and though it seems silly to some people…it makes me a lot happier. I’m officially OFF the self-harm-watch-list by my therapist (Was one month cut-free up until a week ago, which was due to an imbalance of my medications. Noted: Don’t take Lexapro at the same time as Levothyroxin. They counterbalance eachother!) but I stopped just a little ways into the act and turned to using markers instead. I’ll show you the picture for that too, don’t worry. BUT I think I have dragged into this blog long enough, and I’ve music to go download and exercise to get back to. From 230pnds down to 211! I’m getting there! Best of love and hugs and all that lovey gooey mushy stuff, Warren
  14. I wanted to throw this out there, as a sidenote off from one of my other blog posts this evening. I wanted to take this time to sit down, mellow out, and most of all....Thank you. Thank every single one of you. All of you who stop and peek into my demented mind to read my blogs. Thank you for stopping and feeling my pain, laughing with me, shaking your head at my own less-than-witty comments, and crying with me if it so suited you. I'm extremely, unbelievably grateful for every one of you and ALL the friends I've made, and friends I'm yet to make on here. You've all been extremely helpful to me and have kept my chin up out of the muck and grime of grief and guilt and unbelievably overwhelming life's chaos. I will certainly continue to be grateful for all of my wonderful friends here on TGG. It has been beyond enriching, appreciated, heartwarming, enlightening and uplifting to have such a fantastic support system behind me. To know that no matter what is going on in my life, I know that I'll always have my friends here on TGG to help me through it. To break my fall, and pick me back up once again and brush me off and say "Go get 'em, tiger!" I cannot possibly express to you all how wonderful you've all been to me. From simply liking my blogs, to the wonderfully informative or supportive comments, to the remarkable personal messages of support and encouragement...I love logging in and seeing what everyone is doing and saying and up to in this world of awesomesauce. You've all opened up my eyes from the cruel word and shown me that there IS a place for me, I'm NOT useless, and I DO have a voice that I am ALLOWED and ENCOURAGED to use.. I love blogging for you guys and plan to continue to do so as much as I can, and I BEG that you guys try not to get too bored with me when Things get too chaotic to on a regular basis. I'm always thinking of all of you, and without you guys, I wouldnt be where I am today! Have a FANTASTIC holiday! Have a VERY Merry Christmas, A WONDERFUL Hanukkah and VERY VERY Happy New Year!!! I love you all! Your friend and crazy Blogger, Warren
  15. Hello people of the page, this is your friend Warren 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
  16. 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.
  17. So today I made very slight progress, though it put me in a bad mood all day and made things very disappointing. After exchanging very brief emails with the plastic surgeon center at the nearest large hospital in my area, I finally decided to call them and get a quick estimate on what I'd be looking at for a top surgery plus anything else that may or may not be required. To be honest, I'm not sure exactly what I was hoping for. It's not like they'd start giggling like the littlest elf and offer free surgery and tell me to show up tomorrow. Though that would be epic... But, alas, miracles dont happen every day. I were greeted by a rather friendly young woman named Alice, though she werent my alice in wonderland. She didnt have the greatest of news for me either. My Double Incision Bilateral Mastectomy will cost me an estimated grand total of 8,000$. Right now I have saved up....600$.... Before I can even go in for consultation about the surgery, I'm required by the state to see a phsycologist, which my insurance probably wont even cover. They offered me a "care card" which is basically a credit card that they can charge it all to that I pay off later...but with a lot of interest and growth interest. Meaning the longer it takes me to pay it off, the bigger the bill gets. Gee...thanks.... So my next phonecall was to my doctor to inform her that I self-changed one of my medications because it was giving me horrible side effects, but she insists that I come see her this friday. Not only because of that...but they're considering putting me on testosterone hormone treatment. Part of me is like HELLZ YES!!!! But....who wants to grow facial hair and possibly body hair and start looking masculine....while still enduring the embarrassment of 44DDs? No one, that's who. And certainly not me! I dont want to walk around with a 5oclock shadow and chest fuzzies while still trying to sort out my "tumor issue". I hate how I look as it is, that is not going to help! On the other hand, I'm excited for a deeper voice, for my body's reshaping into it's male form, and certainly for a less girly face. As a girl I look my proper age. But if I were to pass off as a boy, I look thirteen, not twenty two. Anyway....next call: Insurance. What do you and do you not cover in terms of surgery? Well, I got a woman who could barely speak english. But the answer I got was basically "nothing". I have a 500$ deductable, and 5000$ OUT OF POCKET. Granted 5,000$ is better than 8000$ but....I can barely pay my bills as it is....theres no way I can do that right now...or even next year. So you can see why I was depressed all day. I'm tired of waiting. I dont want to wait until next year, or the year after, or the year after. I want these GONE. On top of that... I think my boyfriend and I just officially decided to be roommates in the future. And that's it. Nothing more. Blah..... But here's the GOOD NEWS: I'm trying to go sober again! From cutting, I mean. I'm not much of a drinker I got a sudden slap to the face while browsing the infamous youtube last night, and stumbled on a video out of no where. "Let me tell you something you already know.The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done! Now if you know what you're worth, then go on and get what you're worth! But you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you aint who you wanna be because of him or her or anybody! Cowards do that and that aint you! You're better than that! I'm always gonna love you no matter what. No matter what happens, you're my son, you're my blood. You're the best thing in my life. But until you start believing in yourself, you aint gonna have a life." Rocky Balboa I grew up watching rocky with my dad up until he died when I was eight in a tractor trailer truck accident. After his passing, I couldnt watch it anymore because I'd always think of my dad and break down in tears. My dad was my everything. My whole world, my hero, my knight in shining armor. Because my dad was my Rocky Balboa. But that quote came to my ears and it made me cry. Hell I'm not ashamed of it, it made me bawl like a damn baby. Because at this particular point in my life...I needed that. I needed those words and it picked me up and brushed me off and said "damn it, your father dont want this for you, put that stupid blade down and get up off your knees!" My dad doesnt want me to sit in the corner and wave a white flag. He'd want me to brush off my shoulders, put my boxing gloves back on, and prove to them that I can do it. Because I can. So damn it, I'm gonna try. Not just for my Dad, but for me. I just hope I can K.O. my own doubt before the bell rings. Warren
  18. Tuesday, Again. By now you've figured out (most likely) that Tuesday is my Therapy day. I'll be honest that therapy has not been as horrible as I had imagined it to be, and honestly it kind of feels good to sit there and just talk. We dont even have to talk about anything important, really. But knowing that what I say wont really leave her office, and we're by ourselves...it allows me to open up and talk freely. It's really nice, and I end up leaving with a weight off my shoulders. Not saying I didnt freak out, trust me! If you look back on my previous blogs, you'll see me freaking out like a four year old at a crazy circus show at midnight. But really, its not so bad. So far, anyway. In regards to the letter I had left for my therapist (if you dont know about it, go to my previous blog post ) the office were closed the day that I went to drop it off. So I had to wait, agonizingly, for monday to arrive so I could drop it off before work. Thankfully the receptionist were on the phone when I set it on her desk, so I didnt even have to explain it. I just set it down, wove goodbye, and hightailed it out of there. I were nervous, sure! Wondering if she'd be angry with me, or offended, or just simply throw her hands up and quit. So when I showed up today, she were standing there waiting for me, all ready to go. First thing she did when she shut the door, was hold up the letter. But she didnt frown, she didnt glare. She smiled. "First off, thank you for the letter. I WANT to know what you're feeling, even if you cant put it into words verbally. If you're more comfortable to write it down at a later time and leave it at the office for me, by all means, I encourage you to do so" We talked about what was in the letter, and she apologized for how I felt when I left last week, but noted that even though it hurt, it got my butt in gear and rearing to go and get more information to get this started officially. She's right, I'll admit. It made me angry, but it got me moving. We discussed things to do, and I'm still waiting to hear from the hospital/plastic surgeons about my questions regarding my double incision bilateral mastectomy. They wanted to talk to me on the phone, but like a dummy, I've lost my cellphone for the hundredth time! So I'm trying to get them to just do it through email, even if its not convenient for them, I can still provide any and all info they need that way. Wish me luck on that! I might see if I can convince my boyfriend to let me buy a proper binder next week, after we get our paychecks from work. Hopefully, because since I've lost a bit of weight, the shirts I have now dont really do too much. And I finally found the tag on the darn thing. It's not a binder in any way, shape or form. It's a men's support shirt, basically just for back support or work outs or after surgery. It does okay for right now, but not as well as I'd like. So, we'll see on that. I do apologize for not blogging lately, I've simply been crazy busy and the snow is starting to pile up around my house! We've got all the decoration blowups outside set up, the shovels taken down, and the winter boots pulled out. Overnight, we got a foot of snow, and there's more on its way. Welcome to New England!! I'll blog again soon, but have patience with me Your Dear Friend, Warren P.S. My therapist says HELLO INTERNET SUPPORT!!! She's very glad that you're all here to support me as I support you all right back. Like one big, distant, happy family <3
  19. Since I am more able to express/explain myself on paper or online, I decided that since I'll be in town that I should get my butt in gear and suck up my pride. So, I did research. I wrote emails. And...I wrote a letter to my therapist. I'm gonna share it, since I figured it might give others ideas, and hopefully what I did was right. "Dear _____, I hope your Thanksgiving went well and you didnt get buried in all the snow. I talked to a few online friends about my last visit with you, and decided it would be best to write things down rather than forget or lose my nerve later. I'll admit the realization of "without a goal, there is no destination" stung a bit, and instinctivaly as if I were being given up on. I have little to no clue what I ultimatly want/need, and I felt lost and hopeless without having valid reasons for visits aside from simply someone to talk to. Sometimes I have a hard time verbally expressing whats going on in my mind and it hinders my trail of rational thought. So my first thought were simply "Even she isnt sure how to help me, I cant even help myself" So, in short I've done A LOT of thinking; and having these few days off work is helping. I've come down to a few goals I'd like to work out. 1-Manage my anxiety 2-Stop selfharm 3-Be a happier person (4)- Be Me. Fully transition into my proper gender, and live life as who I am. If it costs me my relationship, I'll need to learn to accept that. I have contacted ______ via email in regards to cost, regulations, and state requirements for my double incision bilateral mastectomy, and am awaiting a reply. Battle plan: 1-Get serious! More research, and be more confident and less reserved. 2-If needed, see a surgeon for estimates 3-Start hormones if needed 4-Surgery!!!!!! 5-Live the full lifestyle 3 years 6-Change name 7-Just be happy! I dont like being miserable. But I cant be happy by waiting on my butt for things to change. "Be the change you want to see in the world" Gandhi I'll still need help, I'm not foolish enough to think that I can do it alone. But sometimes I might need to be reminded that I need to act or nothing is going to change. I'm not ready to give up yet, and I hope you arent ready to give up on me either. See you Tuesday, _____" So I'll fold it neatly. I'll put it in an envelope, and I'll drop it off at the office on my way to the bank. She'll have it on-hand, she can read it, and come up with her own battle plan by the time our visit comes up. Wish me luck, Warren
  20. As you all know, tomorrow is thanksgiving, and like most of you I have a few things that need to get done. Obviously. This year I'm going to my boyfriend's family's get together in an Inn at the top of a mountain. We've been there for last year's gathering and I'll admit, it's gorgeous and the view is absolutely the best (I'll post pictures when I can!) But this year is going to be different for me, personally. Last year I were still enduring the dressy clothes and makeup and doing my hair and whatnot. But this year....I've had enough of it. True I'll put a nice shirt on, but it's not going to be from my girl drawers. True I'll make my hair look good, but simply with a slight combing and some mousse, no pins or hairbands or pretty bows. I wont be wearing makeup, and I wont be trying to look as girly as I can stand. This year I'm not going as Kristy, I'm going as Warren. And all though they dont really know whats going on yet, and of course I'll still be called by my birthname since they dont know any better...I refuse to endure one more year of trying to fit the part of someone I'm not. So, with this whole realization of courage and stubbornness...comes the anxiety. I know they're going to be staring at me, whispering comments, asking my boyfriend's mom "Whats going on with her?" His family is known to be judgemental gossipers, so I know this will go smoothly until they start to whisper amongst themselves. Although I'll probably just find a nice corner to sit in with my tiny plate of food I probably wont even finish, at least I can say I went. This year everyone was asked to bring one thing, and we were asked to bring two gallons of milk. But reality says NO ONE is going to drink TWO gallons of milk, so I improvised. We'll bring ONE thing of milk, and I'm bringing a dish. One thing I've pleasantly mastered at work is pasta salads, and this year I'm going to make my Nana's Autumn Pasta Salad. It's pretty easy, and nice and crisp if you love flavor I'll let you guys know how it went, and hope you all have a good holiday Your buddy in Plaid, Warren NANA'S AUTUMN SALAD -Boil some pasta (any kind you want. Bowties or elbows or shells work the best. Throw in some veggie pasta for color!) (MAKE SURE ITS COLD WHEN YOU MAKE THE SALAD) -Mayo -Cranberry sauce -craisins -raisins -apples (golden delicious or granny smith are the best. peel and chop into cubes) -pecans (crush or chop em up) -Cucumbers (I like to peel them 100%, cut in half lengthwise, and take a spoon and scoop out all the seeds so its not so mushy and slimy, then cut the halves into small cubes) -FRESH parsley (dried has next to NO flavor and you want the pretty green color in it) Basically, boil up your pasta to your liking. In a bowl, mix up half a can of cranberry sauce with an equal amount of mayo & mix it well. (Cran-mayo is also great for turkey sandwiches or on other pasta dishes!) toss in a handful of your apples, pecans, cucumbers, raisins, and craisins. Mix well. Mix it up with your pasta, THEN mix in your chopped up parsley. Let it sit for a bit to absorb the flavor and voila, Nana Gates' Autumn Salad ;)
  21. 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.
  22. Today is tuesday, and as some of you know, tuesday is my therapy day. The day I suck up my blahness, climb out of bed, and go sit and chitchat with my therapist about...basically everything and anything. But this time, I broke down after I left her office. I sat in my car, gripped the steeringwheel and attempted to get a grip on myself, before finally breaking down and bawling my pathetic eyes out. I feel like she gave up on me already. I were originally instructed to see a therapist for my anxiety and depression problems, but mostly for being transgendered. I admitted to my therapist that I think my self harm, depression, and anxiety are all linked and rooted strongly to my identity issues. I strongly believe that if I were able to truely be Warren, I'd be better off. Happier. Healthier. On the paperwork when I originally signed up to go to therapy, they'd asked me "What do you expect/hope to get out of therapy? What is your end goal?" Honestly, I didnt know. I still dont. I'd left it blank because of that reason. But today she put down her notebook and looked me dead in the eye. "I'm going to be honest and frank with you," she said. Instantly I knew something was up. "Until you can decide what it is that you want, I dont see a point in you even coming here. You dont know where you're going, you dont have a goal in mind, then I dont know what I'm supposed to do to guide you to it. Until you decide what it is you expect or want out of therapy sessions, it's going to do you no good. Think about it over the week until I see you again" And that was it. Nothing more. We were done. Dont get me wrong, shes probably right. But I cant help but feel like she was throwing her hands up in surrender and saying "You cant figure out your own problems then I cant be your solution". I made next week's appointment on the way out, but honestly I felt numb as I did it. Just nodded and said 'see you later'. I dont want to go back. I dont know what I want, damn it! That's why I was going, to get help! I know I dont want to be what I am right now, isnt that clue enough for her to help me figure things out? To be honest, I'm tempted to just call them back and cancel the appointment and not go back. I feel like theyve given up on me already...it's only been the second session, and she throws that at me. When I've finally broken down in front of her and teared up because I'm frustrated with staying hidden. She said so herself, that it seems more like in terms of life, I've secluded myself. So why the hell would you back out and leave me secluded instead of trying to draw me out?! I dont know what to do about the situation. Advice or opinions welcomed. Frustrated as hell, Warren
  23. So today was my first day of therapy EVER, and it goes without saying that I were a nervous wreck. I got up much earlier than I even needed to, and wandered around the house like a bored lunatic. When I finally decided to leave and went as slowly as I were comfortable, just killing time and cruising along, I still showed up at the office a little more than half hour early. Signed in, no problem. So I was sitting there for a while and the secretary comes over and sits next to me. "I overlooked your paperwork." she said. Overlooked my paperwork? "I just now realized your dysphoria part of the paperwork. Do you mind if I switch your doctor last minute? I think you'd be more comfortable with a different one". Uh...sure? How the hell should I know, I havent met any of them So, they switched my therapist. No worries. The woman was actually very nice, and somehow I found it very easy to talk to her. She actually GREATLY resembles an elderly (though shes younger lol) woman I used to care for. It's almost incredible how much they look alike, though several years apart. Before I even realized what was going on, she had gotten me talking, and it was actually pretty easy to spill my guts a bit. She then told me "I'm not really supposed to reveal my own personal life with you, but my daughter is actually one of the leaders of a LGTB community". Awesome! EUREKA, someone who knows a little of what I'm tryin' to talk about!! So, you guys were right and I feel dumb for stressing about it so much, but it wasnt THAT bad. I actually like her, and was surprised that I actually felt a little better when I left today. Lighter. Stronger. Getting that tiny bit off my chest felt so much better... She wants to see me every week, and hopefully I can financially do it. I'm not sure if I'll get an after-bill from my insurance company since I have to do a 20$ copay. Hopefully not, because I wouldnt be able to afford to do it very often. Fingers crossed! I'm thinking of talking to her about maybe getting a little piece of paper for her to just scribble her name on so I can give it to my mom, to prove to her that I'm seeing someone for my "issues" and ITS NOT A DAMN PHASE!!!!! Even the woman (I feel horrible for not knowing her name! I forgot already!) said it doesnt sound like just a phase to her. Thank god, I'm not crazy!! LATER TONIGHT: I decided in celebration of not losing my mind, I would go buy a 6-pack of my favorite drink, Mike's Hard Blood Orange. Usually one, and I'm done anyway. I dont go all out on it, BUT the drinks are seasonal unfortunatly, so I have to wait all year to get them (Half thought of maybe buying a few 6packs and storing them over winter for me to enjoy until they come out again! Will write the company about keeping them year round.) Anyway, I got my merchandise and some tonic water for the bf, and headed to the check out. Things were going good, I werent really paying attention because I simply just wanted to go home and play some Minecraft with my booooze (lol) and the girl asked for my I.D. No big deal, I know I'm twenty two, I'm allowed to buy it. So I handed it over. She looked at it, and arched an eyebrow....and didnt hand it back. She kept looking at it, and looked confused. "This is your I.D. or a sibling?" she asked of me. Uh....huh? The girl claimed I looked nothing like the girl on the I.D. and didnt believe that it were mine. So she called the manager, withheld my I.D., and waited for him to show up. WHAT!? Manager shows up, and agrees with her So I had to hand over two other forms of I.D. with my name on it so that they could make sure it was a legit I.D., and I was on my way with the suggestion that I should get a new photo done. Actually his words are "If you're going to change genders, change photos. It's inconvienant for both you and us." >.> Granted, the picture really is a bit different from me right now. But still.....that was rude. So I took my damn drinks and booked it. I just finished my second one and you know what? Life is pretty peachy at the moment. I'm not drunk, thats for sure. These are only like 5% alcohol. But its nice to finally relax. I dont feel so alone on this, because I know that on tuesday, I can go and drop some more of my boulder-sized worries on my therapist. Thanks for all the support, you guys make me smile when I'm frowning and pick me up when I'm tripping on my own two feet. I'm so glad I found Transgender Guide, it's made life so much more tollerable. I dare say enjoyable. Warren
  24. 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
  25. Anyone newly transitioning will nod a big "YUP" to me about this issue, and maybe some of you trans-vets out there too. Public Bathrooms. The lou. The resty. The bowl of salvation, the think tank, the throne. Call it what you will, but the issues remain the same. Where the hell do we go? I'm FTM. I DREAD the bathrooms. I will literally try to be as stealthy as humanly possible to sneak in the door, find a stall, and wait there until people leave before I rush out and wash my hands then run out of the bathroom like my head's on fire. I feel like I'm not supposed to be in there, and this notion is clearly shown by those around me. I'm in that stage where I'm starting to look more male in what I wear and such, plus the help of compression shirts, yet I still look rather feminine in ways I cant control. So just as its confusing for me to figure out which door to run through, I'm sure other people in the bathrooms are equally as puzzled as to if I'm in the wrong bathroom or not. One instance, some time ago, I found myself face to face with a rather rude and angry mom in the womens bathroom, snapping and yelling at me that I should be ashamed of myself for going into a bathroom with little girls present. Clearly she thought me male and werent too pleased I were there. Yet that were the only time that's happened. Otherwise, I have received the timeless glares and silence that will say a million and one things. I only ventured into the men's bathroom once, in the run down building of a Subway Restaurant, and it terrified the hell out of me how filthy it was. True, it could have just been because it werent really the cleanest place on the planet to begin with, but for the sake of my slight Germ fears, I fled the room and went into the women's bathroom instead since no one were around anyway. But I've not found the courage in myself yet to go into the men's bathroom full time. I'm not ready yet. I dont look the part yet. Men are just as cruel as women sometimes, and I fear that where the women are silent and cruel in their stares, the men would be even more taunting about it. But I dont know.... So what does a struggling FTM do? I avoid the womens bathrooms at all costs, because it puts me in an aweful funk after. But I cannot venture the men's bathroom yet either. Do I hold it as long as I can until I get home to use the bathroom? But there's that whole health factor that dictates that my idea isnt really the greatest one. It's puzzling and frustrating. I'm sure you MTFs out there have had the same issues. Whats some of your experiences, good and bad? Let me know Warren
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