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Anyone going through the journey of one gender to another KNOWS that every day changes. For me, I have three stages I could hit. One day, I tollerate it. TOLLERATE it. It's on my mind all day, but I do my best to just do what I'm doing and ignore what's going on. Then I have my heartbreak days. Days when every instant that I remember what I'm going through and how I'm physically stuck, makes me want to curl up in a bathroom stall and cry till I cant breathe anymore. It physically HURTS to know that I'm stuck as everyone sees me. Then there's my angry days. Days when every second, every reminder, every person talking to absolutely PISSES me off! Nothing is safe from my fury. I have bruised my chest and face on these days, when I am so angry that I escape all rational thought and just want them Gone. Want ALL of it...just...gone. These days hit at random, and I cannot tell you "It'll be okay" because at the times they hit, it sure as hell doesnt feel like its going to be okay. Either you want to disappear, cry til you die, or simply strangle the hell out of every person you see. Someone once told me that because I'm a transman, that's why I get so angry all the time. Imaginary Testosterone in me 0.o But I think they were just trying to make me feel better. Doesnt really seem possible, I dont think. This morning as I was doing my daily exercise routine, it hit me like a brick. Just a sudden wave of hopeless depression. Lifting weights, doing situps, doing pushups...what am I doing all this for? To shrink my bust size? Doesnt seem to do much...To strengthen my arms and bulk them up to look more masculine? Maybe, but it seems failed. I ache all day in my shoulders and back from exercising before work, and for what? I was finishing up my pushups when I couldnt do any more, and just laid there on the floor holding my head, trying not to emotionally lose it. Why does transitioning have to be so hard? Why cant we just wake up, say "I'm done with you gender, I'm being me now, damit!" and just POOF into what we truely are? Why do we have to jump through so many damn hoops, try to endure the agony of judgement, and hide in the shadows until society deems us worthy to spread our wings? It's not fair. When I was younger, I used to CONSTANTLY ask myself "What did I do in a past life that was so agonizingly horrible, that I would be reborn in the WRONG BODY!? What did I do to deserve this?!" Waking up and getting angry at your reflection. Wanting to do things, only to have your family or friends say "______s dont do that. You're a _____, you're not supposed to do that." SAYS WHO!? Is there an unwritten book of law about gender roles?! Who ever wrote the book to say girls cant shoot guns, drive fast cars, or dress like men? Who wrote the book to say that men cant wear a dress, look pretty in makeup, play with dolls or get excited about the latest heels? I want to know who wrote that book. And I want to shove their face into a bowl of lemon juice and strap it there! How could the world be so unfair.... Yet....we endure...dont we? We shine the brightest we can shine. We raise our chins high and walk where we need to go, regardless of the pointed fingers and staring eyes. We put on our boots or heels, do our hair, and endure the judgement of the world. We mask the pain, put on our stone cold masks of smiles and grins, while deep inside we're melting away like hot wax. The things we endure...just to be ourselves. So I got up off that floor, brushed myself off, and took a breath. I put in my headphones, and turned to my favorite song. Growling to myself, I straightened my shoulders, and I punched that floor. I punched it so hard, my knuckle cracked and my fingers swelled. I got back on my knees and fists, and I kept going with the pushups. I kept sweating on that floor, I kept giving my ipod a deathstare below me. Why? Because I have to. We have to. We have to be stronger than those staring eyes. We have to be more persistent than those pointed fingers. We have to be braver than the words they speak. We have to be proud. We have to be..us. What else could we possibly do aside from hide in the shadows? That will get us nothing but darkness and snickering smirks from the world around us. I'm done playing pretend. I'm done playing dressup. You dont like who I am, you'll just have to find something else to jeer at. Because I dont care anymore. Kristy is down the drain. I shoved her down that pipe and I turned on the food grinder. She's dead. Warren is taking her place, and cutting her hair away. Her waist long hair doesnt exist. Her pretty little red sneakers are in the trash. Her flowing blouses are Warren's rags to wipe his hands on while working on his jeep. Because damnit he likes working on his car, and no one can tell him no anymore. Warren P.S. Song is Silhouettes by Avicii...You should REALLY REALLY look up the music video. That and Ruby Rose's video for Break Free Plus basically ANYTHING from Adam Lambert is amazing
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Today I had another doctors appointment, which is my regular monthly thing. I assume she were happy with what was going on, since she said she doesnt need to see me for another two months I've officially gone from 225-230 pounds, all the way down to 214 She wants to see me down at 210 or lower by the end of Janurary. GAME ON! So I kicked off my challange....with a bowl of ice cream. Darn it, I'm so bad at this >.< We talked for a while about the gender thing, and she got me seriously thinking about the name change process, so I did some looking into it tonight. Did you know it costs over 110.00$ to do a legal name change, and you have to have a court date?! Plus they legally HAVE to post it in the paper ( yay.) and the judge can just up and decide NOT to grant it, but you still have to pay. What the flippernuts?! But....I guess it would be worth it, afterall. But I dont want to even try and change my name until I at least have top surgery. There's no point having a male name when you have breasts. Seriously. Today I had an interesting development. A girl kept watching me from a table as I was working, and kept acting like she wanted to ask me something. But she kept hesitating, and changing her mind. When she finally came over to talk to me, I were surprised by her question. "No offense but...are you a guy or a girl?" How do you answer a question like that? When you're still legally and technically one gender, but desperate to identify as the opposite, yet dont want too many people to know about it yet.....what the heck do you say to that? I was kind of nervous about it and stuttered out a quick "Technically girl...why?" To which she responded "Bummer. You would have been a cute guy. I'm not into girls though." and walked away. Uh, what? Wait, what! In one aspect, I found it somewhat flattering and rather amusing, and it made me laugh a bit. I thought it was hilarious, and loved it. But then I told my boyfriend. You know that look on someones face when you say you have bad news and that curling of the nose as they listen to something they need to do? That was his response. Kind of like "Ugh....this again....Dont like it." It was rather disheartening to be excited that someone had to actually ask if I was a girl or not, and have that hope that I look like a guy a bit for them to ask me to clarify; only for him not to share my enthusiasm and kind of shrug it off. Feels like I'm the only person who showed up to a birthday party, and its my own birthday. Kind of sucked. I guess I'll just to deal with it... Otherwise it was a pretty good night, I suppose. Hey, at least its friday Tomorrow I got to change the oil in my car, check the battery power, get a light checked, return my broken ipod, and work for a friend of mine around her house. I think I work 7 days a week and no one told me. Warren
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After several days of torment, several attempts not to harm myself, and several agonizing hours of enduring the silent remarks of those around me.....I finally had a tollerable night. Nothing too chaotic happened, really. My binders actually behaved today. I got up on time, did my exercise, and got to work on time. One of my co-workers actually has caught herself and is trying hard to make it a habit not to call me by any nickname feminine. She's really trying, though she messes up now and then, I forgive her. I just have to be patient with her, I know its not easy for her to cap that habit. Though I broke my new ipod yesterday, I thankfully still had my hands on my old ipod. Though the screen is cracked and its not in the best of shape, it still works, and I were still able to have my music and such with me all day. I took my meds on time, which is a rare triumph for me. I'm not on any form of medication for my transition, yet. But if/when I start them, I would like to have my other medications under control, so I NEED to get into the habit of doing things ON TIME. It's taking some time to actually get in the habit of it. I expressed to one of my online/texting friends (who is an MTF) that my shoulders/back were sooooooo sore from working out and lifting things at work, so she gave me some advice, and good golly do I owe her! She calls it "Shower Yoga" It's not as bad as it sounds XD I promise! Shower Yoga: You do your normal showering routine, such as scrubbing and washing your hair and whatnot. I do my normal "Stand here and let the world wash off me" in the hot water for a while. It helps relax my troubled mind, just to stand under the water and let myself relax and breathe. It's helped A LOT in my self harm recovery, and I highly recommend it. After cleaning up and doing your thing, you start your yoga First stretch you do is grab your knee and lift it as high as you can, pulling it against your chest. Do this with each knee. You can totally feel it stretch out the muscles on the front of your thighs! After that, you bend yourself completely in half and grab your ankles, relax your back and just pull, and let your shoulders and spine stretch out. Then grab your ankle and pull it upward like you're sitting indian style, one leg at a time, as high as you can and hold it there for a minute at waist level (if you can) After you do both legs, set yourself down on your knees in the shower and lay forward over them, stretching your arms out over your head and towards the faucet. Stay there a moment before arching your back backwards and reaching behind yourself with both arms, stretching your shoulders. Next one is to stay seated in the tub/shower, but turn your waist-and-up around and twist to set your hands on the shower area behind you. This will let your spine twist gently and pop it if needed. Then you stand up, arching each arm over your head and tipping like a teapot, each arm done. Then my favorite: Arch your arms up like you're showing off your muscles, but bend both arms (while still in the L position) backwards like you're squishing your shoulder blades together. Hold for a moment, then fold them in front of your chest and bend from the waist up downwards and let the hot water go over your back and waist. Relax, shake it off, and repeat at random if you'd like. Throw in some random stretches you're familiar with or feel the need to try! My back popped, shoulders, neck, arms, knees, hips, and ankles all popped and the muscles relaxed like crazy. You finish off by rinsing off in much cooler water (not ice cold) but do not start from your head. Start at your feet and work your way up, cooling off your body from the stretching and closing your pores. I feel soooooo much more relaxed and my muscles love me so much right now XD Try it out! Huge stress reliever! Warren
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My agony and enduring bull**** continues. I had to park almost a mile away from work again today, because there were no parking spaces. Then listened to a fifteen minute speech from a manager about how I have no excuse, there is "always parking spaces". Get into work on time, thankfully. And slam my hand into a door. Yay... Move my rearend to the front line and start doing my job, and I accidentally drop a 50 pound box of canned goodes right on my foot. THANKS A LOT. Limping around, I get the usual "are you okay baby girl?" "what happened to your foot, girl?" "Darling, what'd you do?" or my favorite (sarcasm) "Woman, you gotta stop hurting yourself." GIRL. BABY GIRL. WOMAN. DONT ANY OF YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE KILLING ME!? It was so hard not to punch someone right square in the jaw and scream in their faces before cackling like a maniac and running away. Oh how I envisioned this.... So after I faked my smiles and did my chores, I went on to do the rest of my job. But I noticed that everyone's looking at me funny. Everyone's whispering when I'm "not looking". What is this? What's the big secret that no one is sharing? I ignored it. For now. But it was becoming maddening. Lunch hour. FINALLY. I made myself a wrap and threw random things in it, trying to stick to my diet and ignore all the other yummy looking food on the line. Get down to the table, and someone SOMEWHERE (i dont know where) snickers "Whats up, queer?" That's it. I'd had it. I'd finally broke. I turned right around, and walked out, and ate in the rain. Well, TRIED to eat. The wrap I'd grabbed, the ONLY food I'd grabbed, tasted like crap. By the time I hauled myself back inside, all the other food had already been cleaned up off the front line. No lunch for me I guess... I'm at that "I really dont f***ing care anymore" mode. Go back to work...my phone's dead. Great. Continue to work, ignore the snickering and whispering around me, buzzing like wasps in my brain. Pants keep falling down which is pissing me off. Shoelaces wont stay out of the way, boxers wont stay down below my f***ing belly.....it is NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT my day. I'm sore as hell from working out too much, I can barely lift a damn box, and I've got a constant headache for the past three weeks that now has decided to show its ugly face again. Went to make some tea and dumped the lava hot water on my hand. Went to grab a bite of something to eat so I dont throw up, and some ***hole took it before I could grab it. Munching on crackers and I nearly choke on one. Go to take a drink of water and I accidentally swallow a piece of ice that nearly slit my throat all the way down. FINALLY as the work day ended, I'm listening to my music in my headphones as I cleaned, thankfully I MIGHT leave actually on time today, when I get a message on my ipod. (I roleplay online through my messenger with a friend sometimes to help with stress and give me something to do, usually medieval based) Go to click to open it....nothing. Click it again.....nothing. Tear my whole freaking protective case off (because I JUST BOUGHT THIS ONE refurbished to replace my broken one) and guess what? Break? Catch a break? HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! right. My home button is broken for absolutely no f***ing reason at all, rending the WHOLE thing...absolutely freaking useless. THANK YOU UNIVERSE, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER? Universe: You have a flat tire by the way. THANK YOU. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Now if I could just get rid of this damn headache, I can maybe pass out. But NOOOOOOO. We're out of tylenol. Warren of War
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Work today started off as usual. I got there, I got rid of my backpack and such, got changed into my chef's gear, and got to work. Everything was normal. Well, as normal as it could be, anyway. That is...until after lunch. I headed to my locker to get my headphones for my ipod, but something fell out of my locker. A little piece of paper, folded up, crinkled, and written on. "Gender Queers Dont belong here, f*** off" It took me a good five minutes to read this fully, and for it to punch me square in the jaw like I'd been hit and run over by a freight train on the run. I had to sit down and stare at the note. I looked up at my locker, realizing that my nametag on my locker door was torn to shreds on the floor. Why cant I get a break? Even a little one....why not? Nearly numb with hurt, I brought it to my coworker. "Bring it right to the manager!" she gasped, shocked that it had happened. (She knows im transitioning) I did so, and brought it to him, and showed him. He then shrugged it off as if it were nothing, and threw the note in the trash. Like it were nothing to him, and the whole situation meant nothing. I broke down, walked outside, curled up and lost it. After probably five to ten minutes, I eventually calmed down and went back to work. I was livid that they didnt care. But I couldnt explain to them about WHY it bothered me so much, because then they would know. Then it would click, and they would see what I were hiding. They'd see into my closed closet doors. Later, it finally clicked to them how serious this was. The manager took the note out of the trash, apologized to me for "blowing you off", and took the matter to higher management. He then came to me and said basically that this whole situation was bull**** and he will NOT stand for it. This is all good and such, and great that they're now taking it seriously but... I just handed in a note that insulted me as a Gender Queer, obviously upset about it...they're going to put 2 and 2 together and realize what's going on. This is not how I wanted this to come to light. I dont know what to do... Warren
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So, I went north (3 hr drive) and got my little sister for a week with me. So far it had been great! I finally got her to eat (shed been basically starving herself) and she's been eating randomly the whole time, which is awesome. (She's 16). She's kept up her end of the deal and hasnt done any self harm, and neither have I. We've both behaved. I've been spoiling her rotten, and I love it Bought her a new necklace which she hasnt taken off since we bought it, new earrings since none of her other ones match anymore, and did what she'd always wanted and took her to a salon to get her hair cut. She loves it! We also went and bought some hair dye and dyed our hair (one bottle was enough for both of us to do the same color XD). We look so alive now LOL But the day was full of surprises. We were at a store, and I moved aside for a man. And in return, he said "Excuse me, sir" which caught both me and my sister offguard. And I loved it! Later that day, we were wandering another store and someone asked me "Can I get you anything, sir?" again. Loved it. This happened about four times, and I was so excited!! Well after a day full of shopping and whatnot with her, we headed home. It was all good, she was really happy, and she headed to bed. So I went to my room, and that's when it crashed. I cuddled with my boyfriend for a little while, we hung out and whatnot, and then he hit me with an acid bomb to the heart. "Can you do me a favor?" he asked me. I said "sure" and thought not much of it. Then his response was "Can you wear more dress up shirts? Like when we go out somewhere its fine, you can wear your normal stuff. But otherwise..." He wants me..to dress like a girl again. I'm not going to lie...it hurt. It was like being stabbed in the chest with a rusty dagger someone found in the mud. I tried to ignore it, and I tried to keep calm about it. But when he was trying to be affectionate and whatnot and my "blahness" was part of the attention, I couldnt take it anymore. I hate them. More than I've hated anything. So I got upset, he got upset, I bawled and left. Why is it that no matter how much he says he understands and any progress we make on it...he still somehow reverts back to wanting me to do something girly. To wear certain things or do certain things or act a certain way....It hurts. I dont know how much I can deal with. -Warren
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As some of you might know, I had my sixteen year old sister down at my place for about a week. The reason I did this was simple. She needed out. I look at my little sister and see a perfect replica of me at her age. Shy, outcasted, punk, stylish, misunderstood, and above all...depressed. She'd decided that eating is not something she HAS to do, and has resorted to eating about once a day, or even less on occasion. She hides in her room, away from the world. Not that I can blame her....my mother is...well...my mother. She doesnt understand these things, is rather demanding and controlling, and does not understand people like me or my sister AT ALL. So, for a week with me she went. I spoiled her ROTTEN. She deserved it! Though she fought it at first, telling me to stop buying things for her, I knew she liked it. Shirts and necklaces of her favorite band, a poster, new jewelry, new clothes, etc. I took her out to dinner a few times, we (including my bf who adores her) went out to the movies together...We had fun! By the time it was time to bring her home, she had emerged from her shell, been eating regular meals, and was getting a full night's sleep. But as we climbed into the truck to make the three hour drive to bring her home...she switched back again. She became reserved, fearful, shy...depressed. I literally cried as we drove away, and she cried in my arms because she didnt want me to leave her. We've never had that sort of relationship before, where she were comfortable enough to do that with me. I promised her to be back in a few weeks...I'm taking her for a whole MONTH. I did NOT give my mother an option on this. But in this situation, other situations arose. First of all....my support from my family..is false. It had been revealed to me that though, to my face, my mother and siblings are supportive of my transgender lifestyle and seem happy that I'm happy....theyre talking bad behind my back. Apparently, they have been saying rude comments about me to people, saying I'm doing this "just for the attention" and that it's not a phase indeed...but a desperate cry for mental help and attention. The news hurt...a lot. The support I thought I had, the understanding I were sure they possessed....was all false. None of it were sincere. They're laughing at me.... During the visit while bringing my sister home...I noticed their behaviour towards it. The little comments here and there, the mentions and giggles about my changes in appearance...my older sister is now dressing up even more and hanging all over my boyfriend. As if to say "Your girlfriend turned into a guy, but I'm still a girl so look at me instead". It hurts...so bad... On top of that, not once did they ask my little sister "did you have fun?" or "what did you do down there?" or even an innocent "hey, we missed you!" It broke my heart to see her cast in the shadows. Just like I was. But again, another situation has been a plague in my mind. Sisterhood vs. Brotherly love. My little sister knows that I am transgendered, and she is TOTALLY cool with it. She supports it 150%, and even got excited for me when someone called me Sir at the store. But the things I used to do that were deemed "Sisterly love" might no longer be appropriate? For instance, the hugs all the time I assume are alright. But now people think we're a couple... We've always smacked eachother and pinched and fooled around..but now that I look like a teen guy, it just looks like a dude hitting on her or being a bully. And people look at us funny instead of the classic eyeroll of "oh theyre sisters being sisters, no biggy" And now one of the bigger ones. Laying together. When we were younger, we used to share a bed. Which was no problem, and we still occasionally will share a bed (both clothed of course) while shes on the computer or we're looking stuff up or something. Well in this instance, I'd fallen asleep, and cuddled up behind her, and my arm draped over her waist. I didnt think anything of it, she didnt seem to mind, etc. But it were mentioned to me later by someone else that me being male, that might no longer be appropriate. I'd love some advice on this, if anyone has any. I love reading the comments and such! What things might a sister be okay to do, that is no longer "okay" for a brother? I'd look to my brother for this advice but he's less than enjoyable to talk to, and doesnt fully approve of my gender transition. Love to hear your thoughts, Warren P.S. I now have the date to see my therapist for the first time ever. The 18th o.o I'm nervous! (Photo is on top of one of the Twin Mountains near where my old hometown is)
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When it comes to being transgendered, it's not just an inside confession or a validation of yourself in your own mind, but it's an outward expression. It's a chance to take your gender that you were born with on the outside, and throw it in your trashcan, light that ***** on fire and say "Good Riddance" But sometimes it's not as easy to figure out how to do that when it comes to clothes. If you spent your life like me, wandering the Girls section at walmart and curling your nose at all the pink and purples around you, it can be a little bit challenging to walk happily into the men's section. At first it were overwhelming, and I started out small. Something trivial at first, something that wont make a huge impact on the way I dressed. Yet. Boxers. I'd spent years suffering the annoyance of women's underwear, never finding anything that I found comfortable and enjoyable. Plus all those annoying, girly patterns irked me so bad! So when I finally decided enough was enough and went to get my first pair of boxers, I was as excited as I was to get my driver's permit. What I grabbed (And I recommend highly) is cotton "Fruit of the Loom" boxer briefs with the "No ride up" legs. They've been a miracle in my life, and I've never been so comfortable ever. And finally...NO GIRLY PATTERNS!!! Love em. They cost me about 13.00$ at Walmart, which really isnt that bad when you consider that you get about eight of them, and it's slightly more than womens underwear but.....oh the comfort.... For any first-timers of FTM, I would recommend doing this ALONE. You're going to be nervous and excited, and nothing kills that like someone staring over your shoulder. Next thing I ditched were womens jeans. SO FRUSTRATING! All the womens jeans fit weird, and they hugged you like spandex, or were stretchy with no cargo pockets;.....ugh. Plus, again, those damn patterns >.< Why put designs on my butt?! So, going ALONE again, I wandered to the men's. First of all, the sizings are VERY VERY different. Not only in the fact that they're made different, but they're labelled a lot different. Because as it happens, men are a lot less picky on fitting than women I greatly recommend taking like four or five pair to the changing room and seeing what you like, fit-wise. It took me about four tries before finding a pair I liked. But I never felt more confident than I did when I ditched my ladies' pants. HALLELUJAH! Finally, shirts. This one is something I've had difficulty with. I've learned right off the bat that Binders/Compression shirts under T-shirts....they just dont cut it. You can still see your 'lumps' and tshirts hide absolutely NOTHING from the public eye. Sweaters are great, yeah. Hoodies are my thing. I have a bright yellow hoody with a label on the breast/chest of it and it sort of draws the attention away from my chest a little. But in the summer, I just CANT STAND IT. Way too hot!! So with some exploring and experimenting, I have discovered the best thing for FTMs is PATTERNS. Distracting patterns are the best thing to hide away your chest, I've found. My favorite so far has been plaid patterns. Dark red and black are my favorites, and they hide my chest fairly well if I slouch a little (which is kinda guy-attitude anyway. dont be afraid to slouch a little, only chicks have pinstraight backs all the time ) Not only are the patterns cool for hiding things, but usually the shortsleeve or longsleeve plaid (Button up ones are best!) shirts can come in A LOT of different colors, and can be either very thin for summer or the thicker ones for wintertime. They're really versatile. Jewelry. I personally dont wear jewelry (aside from a necklace from my boyfriend, but it hides under my shirts because it is kinda girly) because of an allergy to silver, and white gold is so darn expensive. But in terms of jewelry for FTMs, you want to keep it kind of to a minimum. Necklaces are alright to an extent, but nothing super flashy and "Look at me!" Rings, limited. Nothing with a ton of designs or petite ones with the stones on them. Earrings....well that's sort of obvious. Guys dont usually wear them, and if they do, its just earring studs. Nothing flashy. Wristbands are alright, watches are cool, and some people even tend to put those chains from their belts to their wallets. Those are "okay" but sort of fallen out of style, just FYI. Shoes are pretty obvious. You dont want to be running around in pink sneakers or high heels. Most importantly: BE COMFORTABLE!! If you're not comfortable in what you're wearing, DONT WEAR IT. You shouldnt have to change your sense of comfort just so you can fit in. The whole point is to feel like yourself, not like you're trying to fit the image of someone else. There are very feminine (some ppl call them 'The Gay Transguys'? From what I was told, dont quote me on that) FTMs who still are very much in touch with their 'girly' side, and that's totally cool! Me personally, I'm more of the punk/emo/nerdy guy, so I like the bare basics and nothing over masculine. I'm comfortable in my plaid, jeans, and converse sneakers or steel toe work boots. It's different for everyone, I'm just giving out some pointers and hoping to give you some ideas! NOW.......BINDERS. I'm still struggling with this one, as I'm very new to the scene. BUT.....wrapping yourself in ducttape, ace bandage, or the stretchy bandages...is NOT okay. I know, I really do. You want to hide it, hell some times you want to just cut them off for good despite the pain. But trust me...this is not the way to go. I tried the bandages, and believe me when I say, they hurt. They rub, they leave rashes, they limit your breathing, theyre hot and hold in sweat. Not only that but they are HIGHLY WORTHLESS in terms of actually staying where you need them. Dont even bother. Ducttape will rip your skin, leave rashes, damage your ribs, etc. It's even worse than the bandage. I know, believe me, I do. That buying something while you're still 'keeping quiet' is NOT easy, and its almost embarrassing. BUT....here's what I did. First, I started out with a website called Underworks. This is what I bought: http://www.underworks.com/cotton-concealer-chest-binder I have to say that this product is....'Okay'. It's not what I was originally 'supposed' to buy and isnt really a binder. Like I said, I'm a beginner in this too, so I werent sure what I was even buying. But I told my boyfriend I wanted it to help with my backpain, which was a lie, yes, but it worked. It does the job well enough, I guess. Better than a Bra anyway! It wasnt really cutting it and I was losing weight, so I took another step. Compression tank. https://www.underarmour.com/en-us/mens-heatgear-sonic-compression-sleeveless/pid1236226-400 That's what I bought, and I wear that OVER the other top. I know it's NOT a binder, but it works well enough, for now. Originally I were wearing it UNDER the other shirt, but it would rub on my underarms and the other shirt would ride up and slip up over my chest, and not work at all. Since I've switched them around, it's worked a lot better. I have both shirts in black, because the white ones are sort of see through when you put them on. Not only is the underarmour a good company with great quality stuff, but some (if not most) of their products are HEAT SHEILDED. Meaning all that sweat you get under your shirts will be whisked away, and you'll be left nice and cool instead of melting. This will GREATLY help you avoid getting heat rashes under your clothes. That's all I got right now, and this has turned out a LOT longer than I thought it would be Oh well I hope I were of SOME help! -Warren
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I thought it were over. I thought the drama were done. But it hadnt even started yet. The morning started off with the worse headache I've ever had. Pushing that aside, I headed to work. For the past week, the radio that I use in my area has been taken by an older and somewhat aggrivating co-worker. Me being kind, I let it go. True, music helps my anxiety stay back. But I couldnt just take it away from the brute. But today, I had forgotten my dosage of medications, and I were on edge plus agony from the headache. With halloween being the next day, I knew that I had a playlist to play the next day during meals for the holiday. My favorite holiday, if you hadnt noticed. So I went over to have a talk with "Dave". I could have been mean. I could have been rude. I could have said "hey I want the radio back NOW" But no....I were trying to be considerate. "Hey Dave, when you're all set can you put the radio back in my area? And I'd really appreciate if you could use a different one tomorrow, I have plans for it tomorrow." Is what I said, calmly. Which he snapped at me, ranting about how it doesnt belong to just me and that I needed to stop being selfish and rude and etc etc. I told him its a company radio, we're all supposed to share it. So he threw that very comment in my face, saying that I were keeping it all to myself. WHAT!? So....I broke. "You're such an ***hole" and walked off, beyond annoyed. So instead of just letting it drop, since he had his precious radio blaring the worst of the oldies, he instead came out ON THE FRONT LINE, in front of CUSTOMERS, screaming at me about how I will NEVER speak to him like that again, and how I were a disrespectful b**** and that I will NEVER use that language towards him again or he'll "Tell Head Chef" To which I simply shrugged at him the whole time like "whatever" which I think irked him even more. I stayed composed. Until he left, and everyone were staring at me. I broke... Holding it back until I were down the hall, I hid in the dry storage room's back corner behind some boxes and punched the daylights out of some canned goods and cardboard boxes, put my steeltoe boots to use against a box, then broke down in an anxiety attack and bawled my pathetic eyes out. I just couldnt handle it. I couldnt take the stress, the utter and complete BULLS*** One of the deli girls found me and was too freaked out by seeing me cry since I avoid doing so at work, and she ran off to find my boyfriend. Who wasnt very helpful, to be honest. He just stood there staring at me, seeming unimpressed. When I went to lean against him for a hug, he again, just stood there. No hug back, no comforting, just stood there. So I told him to just go back to work, and he did without argument or insistence to help me. He just....walked away. Thanks a lot.... After almost half an hour or so, I finally emerged. Mentally repeating "hes not worth it. just breathe. Dont let them see it." I had to retreat to the bathroom only once more after that to breathe and such one more time, before emerging once more. I'm not going to lie, I wanted to cut. I wanted to so badly. I even resorted to attempting to use the rough edge of a scanner card that were on my keychain. Thankfully, nothing I had would have sufficed even in the slightest. All day, Dave treated me like crap and told everyone I were disrespectful and behaved like a whiney child. He's one to talk.....I wanted to quit my job so badly. I still plan to, once I have another lined up. I'm so done with them......so, so done... So instead, for the rest of the night, I busied myself doing what I love most. Halloween things. I cut out bats, I decorated my whole station, made it my own. Got a few compliments on it. And above all.....I HID that damn radio. There's no way hes taking it from me tomorrow. SUCK THAT, DAVE. He can go spit for all I care. All I want to focus on is tomorrow. I dont need them. I dont need their crap. Tomorrow I'm going to just be my character and brush them off my shoulders. -Warren Sidenote: I've realized today that I have mastered the skill of "Plastic Face" when I'm breaking and bleeding on the inside. It's becoming rather useful and decieving.
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I never thought of paperwork as a trigger. For anything really. Depression, anxiety, etc. But I came to realize it today. I woke up extra early and left to run some errands, knowing I had to build up some courage. I paid my bill (some of it at least) to the hospital, and stopped by the local pharmacy for a few things for my costume on friday, then I made one more stop. The councilling building, where I'll be going. After pulling into the driveway that I nearly passed by because I were nervous, I pulled in and instantly didnt want to leave the safety of my vehicle. "You're only picking up paperwork. It'll only take a second" I kept telling myself. It took several urges of courage for me to rip myself from my Jeep and stumble up to the doorway. I were instantly greeted at the front door by an overly twitchy man waiting for his doctor, and surprised to see that the waiting room was full with awaiting guests. One of which were mumbling rather violently at himself about breaking someone's face. I had to remind myself that this werent the normal doctors office and theres going to be some odd ducks here, but it didnt make me feel any better. "Am I damaged?" I thought to myself. "Am I here with the schitzophrenics and mentally insane because I too, am crazy?" It werent nice to label people I didnt even know, but with my nerves being on haywire...I jumped to conclusions about Mr. Twitch and Mr. Angry. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. After getting my paperwork, I fled like a chicken in a fox den, safe back in my car away from people. I thought "No biggy. Just fill out some info, write down my address and such...and I'll be done. No problem." Well, it werent that easy. Sure they asked my name, age, address and all the normal shinanigans, but it were ELEVEN PAGES (No kidding, and back to back pages! so like 22 pages of info!). I'm going to go through the paperwork that I had to do, little bits here and there, in case anyone is doing the same thing for the first time as well. I dont want you to be caught off guard! Dont be afraid to stop and think about your answers before putting them down! The first clue that this werent normal paperwork was it asked for my name, first last and middle. Easy. "Preferred name or nickname" No one has ever asked me that before....I've NEVER seen it on paper before....I had to actually stop and think. I were being given the choice? This never happens though.... The next was the mindnumbing task of checking boxes of the concerns or symptoms I've had recently. I had seven Well, eight. They didnt have a box for the gender thing, so they had me add it in writing. They asked about stresses or life changes (For me, it would be the coming out to limited amount of people in my life about being transgendered, which has caused a lot of stress) Next they ask if you've seen a therapist in the past, and for how long, blah blah blah. (This is after two pages of insurance and contact information, the usual blargness) Then another surprise. List your family while growing up, but it goes with "Relationship, first names, and PERSONALITY/Mental health issues" My mother, withholding names here...Is somewhat controlling, manipulative, strict, and stubborn. But god knows I love her. I'd like to slap her sometimes, like.....really hard. But I still love her. We have a lot of history of not getting along..... Next was my father. Sadly my father passed away in an auto/tractor trailer accident when I were about nine, so I cant say full heartedly that I knew everything about my father. Other than he was the most remarkable man on the face of the earth. Outspoken until provoked, but sweet and caring...My real life prince charming. Then I have my older sister, a drama queen and attention hog. My brother, who became angry and violent after my father's death. Younger sister who is more like me than she realizes, outspoken, quiet, favored at a young age then seemed to be forgotten. Then my youngest brother, who is loud and frustrating and autistic, but I wouldnt change him for the world. They ask about your childhood and to check off a few boxes (were you happy, neglected, moved a lot, abused, no friends, abused sexually, popular, shy, depressed, things like that.) They'll ask for additional info of your childhood. For me, I always had to fight for the spotlight as a child. My older sister was daddy's first girl, so they always went out horseback riding. It was 'their time'. I understood that...But I liked horses too. My brother was my father's only son, so of course they went hunting....I liked hunting too. My baby sister was his baby and his little princess, being only about two at the time. So of course she got a lot of attention. I got whatever was left over. I remember only going hunting with my father once or twice. Horseback riding....never, that I remember. Most of the time I watched in depression and abandonment sensations as he played with my siblings. The black sheep only get to watch. By the time he were done, he were too tired, or couldnt think of what we could do together. My mom wasnt exactly the 'sit and play' with her kids type. Then they ask about who you live with now, and the same personality thing. I couldnt really think of much to say about the personalities of the people I live with now aside from anger issues, controlling, manipulating, drama fests. The usual human aspects, I've noticed. For some reason they asked if I lived in a house, dorm, apartment, etc. Not sure how that's relevant.... Asked about marriages, failed marriages, etc. What you do for work, what you like to do for work, how often you work, what you like/dislike about your job, blah blah blah. Home life: Your hobbies, how often you talk to people outside of work, how many people you talk to about your feelings, are you satisfied with your romantic life, describe your romantic life, OI VEY. Then it goes on to HEALTH ISSUES. What accidents or illnesses have you suffered, what meds do you take, how many hours of sleep do you get, how often to you drink or take drugs, exercise, tobacco, physicals. Then one question stumped me. "List your personal strengths and important accomplishments" That's when it hit me... I couldnt think of any strengths. I've made no important accomplishments....what am I doing with my life? Am I literally just waking up, going to work, and calling it good? What greatness have I achieved? I felt pathetic. I had to leave it blank....I could think of nothing. I still cant. My romantic life is in shambles, I've done nothing to help or end it. My mental health is waving back and forth like a piece of string in a breeze, yet I've done nothing to tie it down. My physical health isnt the greatest, yet I continue to do things I shouldnt. I get told every single night "Put the heavy trashbags on a cart, dont put them on your shoulders" Yet I do it anyway, suffering sore back, lightheadedness, pulled muscles and even bruising on my shoulders. Yet....I keep doing it. What good have I accomplished in my life? Nothing. I cant even transition without chickening out because of what people think about me. I wear boxers, thick hoodies, binders, compression shirts, mens jeans, steel toe boots....yet I'm still always going to be a girl to the people around me. I've accomplished...nothing. -Warren
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After my last post/blog, I figured it would be a good idea to give an update. No, I were not fired. But I almost was. I went in and talked to my boss about it, and explained that I'd had an anxiety attack, which I'm prone to have. We talked it through and I assured him it wouldnt happen again unless nessesary, and I would tell them next time if I needed to leave. He accepted, and I was allowed to work. I were on my best behaviour all day, or as best as I could. Sometimes theres days when things are so hectic and chaotic, you dont have time to think! But yesterday was so slow, I thought I'd fall asleep. There was no food to prep, no chores to be done, and nothing to do aside from 'look busy or go home'. Which is really hard to do when there's nothing to be done. So I literally crawled under the counters wiping up dust off the shelves, just so they 1)couldnt see me 2)looked busy. I kept busy mentally with thinking things through and trying to keep myself calm, listening to music and thinking about the books I'm writing. It all seemed fairly good at the time. Then....it happened. I were standing on the other side of my counter refilling the serving stations (its set up buffet style) when one of the dish girls comes up to my counter. I was friendly and smiled with a "Hey, hows it going?" Her response? "Hey! So, I hear you've been spreading lies about me like a b****" Um.....what? Okay, backtrack to the highschool drama. "Jo" is the french student currently calling me a lying b****. "Britt" is a newer girl. Britt needed a locker. Management gave her one, no problem. Apparently said empty, filthy locker was previously Jo's locker. Jo got pissed, started ranting, left angry letters on the locker...ending in Britt moving her stuff to another locker to share with another coworker. I figured it was done and over with. Apparently not. "What lies? If I'm spreading lies, I'd at least like to know what I'm supposably saying" I told her. But she shrugged and walked off. I'm sorry, but I dont like Drive By Accusations. So, I went to find her. Me being a stubborn pain in the ***, I dont let things like that go easily. I found her, and confronted her with a "Do you want to talk about this here, or go outside? Because we ARE going to talk about whatever the hell that was." She tries pushing me around and giving me a sobstory, which I deflected quiet easily with facts about what she were saying herself were the only things I had repeated, so in turn did that mean she as lying to begin with? I confronted her calmly and told her "If you had taken me aside and said 'hey can we talk about something?' then I would have been fine with that. Let's talk. But when you come up to me, on the front line, in front of all those people the way that you did, saying what you did....It's inappropriate and it was NOT appreciated. You want to talk about this like an adult, then be an adult. Talk. But dont do it in front of students, dont do it in front of other coworkers. This is not a competition for drama and this is not a popularity contest. You want to accuse me of something, then get your facts straight and dont walk off like a coward. If you're going to throw things in someones face, at least stick around to see their reaction." I didnt hit, I didnt touch her, I didnt swear. I thought I handled it rather well, for me anyway. Just saying. IN OTHER NEWS: I have officially been signed up for a councilor/ phsyciatrist for my gender related issues and anxiety disorder. I'm awaiting a phonecall once they pair me up with one, and will do the paperwork when I get there. I'm glad it's set up, but nervous as hell. Got to admit, I almost dont want to go. I've had nothing but people trying to convince me for so long that this is a phase, and even I have to question it sometimes. But deep down, I know theyre wrong. But that little fear in me cant help but worry that maybe it's just in my head. I know people say "if you know in your heart that it is what it is, then it is". But what if I dont know what my heart is saying, because its too overclouded by what everyone else says? I'm just worried that they'll look at me and say "Nope, you're fine. It's stress/depression related, and we cant help you. You'll have to stay the way you are" Besides, me talking face to face with someone about my feelings? Not gonna go well. Think I'm going to go bury my head in some cement. Warren
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Yup. That's right ladies and gents and dogs and cats, its a second post in one day. The reasons: Because I can. Well, that and the post I did previously was actually for yesterday that I was too tired and lazy to do last night. THIS ONE is for TODAY. Now, as some of you might or might not know, Halloween is coming. Like...in two days. And if anyone knows me personally, they know that Halloween is practically my birthday. Not really, I was born in May. But it's THAT important to me I LOVE HALLOWEEN!! It's been my favorite holiday since the beginning of my miserably misguided life. Every year since I were twelve, I've been a vampire. Vampires are everything to me I love the lore, the stories, the guidelines...So much in fact, I had joined a vampiric coven when I were sixteen. Shortlived, sadly, as I had to move AGAIN. But it was still epic. The only year I deviated from being one of the undead was when I was Wednesday Adamms for my boyfriends grandmother, who hated vampire lore. But this year.....IM DEVIATING AGAIN! Vampire? Too mainstream this year. What else is equally as fabulous that has been left in the shadows since Twilight, True Blood, Vampire Diaries and The Originals? Lycans. Werewolves! So, I'm a werewolf this year. So excited!! I have to go grab some shinanigans to throw on my face and make myself look epic for friday, because its WOOT WOOT!! DRESS DOWN DAY AT WORK! Halloween night, all the chefs can wear WHATEVER THEY WANT (as long as it wont get in the food. Hairnets or hats still manditory, just ANY hat) I'm so excited ROFL I got my fangs as you can see in the pic ILL SHOW YOU HOW IT LOOKS ON FRIDAY! -Warren the Werewolf (has sort of a ring to it )
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Everyone has a bad day now and then. Maybe they spilled their coffee, or the car wouldnt start, you stepped in a puddle up to your knee...could be anything. Mine never start out with physicaly disturbances. Sure, I have trouble with my car. But it's forgivable. My Jeep is my baby. And when I cant afford to fix my baby, she has a tantrum. I forgive her for it. Yeah there's days when my hair just does NOT want to agree and be tamed. Or when I seem to smash my fingers in everything I touch. But those dont get to me. My mind does. And today was one of those days. I couldnt explain why, and I didnt know when it started, but it did. It were nearly unbarable, close to driving me to furious fits of rage. Everything annoyed me. My binder felt too lose, and I were convinced it did jacks*** for my endeavors. I came to the saddening realization that unless I find a new job, I'm never going to be seen for the man I am. And on top of that, it's the secrecy that kills me. Literally eats me up inside, makes me ache and want to curl up. I cant tell anyone that I have "gender dysphoria" or whatever anyone wants to call it. Where I'm from, they just called it "Gender Mixed". I dont trust a lot of the people at work. My family know. My boyfriend knows. One or two off-line friends know a little, but that's it. So when I have to stand there all day, working with the sweetest woman I know who's fighting two types of cancer and is absolutely attached to her friends at work (and refuses to take bedrest and would rather work with us instead), it's hard to get in her face about her petnames for me. "Baby girl. Sweetie pie." or "Such a good girl" and countless other remarks are what I endure all day. All in the best intentions, I assure you. Praises and such, and she does it out of love. But to me, it's like shes casting stones at my head. Every time she says it, I cringe. I want to tell her, and ask her to stop calling me those things because to me....its insulting. But I'm afraid to tell her. I dont want EVERYONE at work knowing about it...if they dont already. My boss calls me "Baby girl" all the time out of habit, but I dont think he realizes how awkward it is for me. For him, it's normal. He calls all the girls "Baby girl" or "Baby Doll". But for me.....no thanks. But again...I cant tell him not to. Because then I would have to explain why. And that wouldnt go well. Days like this, I can say ****my life. I'm glad I dont have my "tools". My outlets werent helping, my frustrations were getting to be an alltime high, my confusion was overwhelming....I just wanted out. To go and hide from everyone and not come back. Felt like the whole building was caving in on me, and my mind just kept repeating those names. Baby girl. Baby doll. Sweetie pie. Good girl, good little baby girl. It was driving me crazy. I couldnt leave and take pictures. I had no inspiration to draw. My music player wasnt helping, and my roleplay buddy wasnt reachable because my messenger wouldnt send. I was at a loss. So I got busy cutting peppers and fruits (chef work. yay.) but then had that gutrentching realization...I was holding a knife. I put it down. I walked away. I left work early. Without permission. I might get fired. Warren
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Hello, people of the pages. Ah the endless pages.... So, just like anything else we try to accomplish, there are always roadblocks. Aside from the fact that I dont really know what to write about tonight, I thought I would ramble about an issue I'd been having today. My Binder. Technically speaking, I'm not sure if its actually a binder or not. It's a Torso Compression Tank from Manshape for FTMs. My first one I'd ever bought, EVER, so I probably got it wrong. Maybe? Anyway, I wear it over a sleeveless compression shirt from underarmor when I'm at work. Its made my life so much easier to not have THOSE in my way all the time. Granted I would be beyond happy and grateful if they could shrink away even more, but hey. Not much a 44DD can get without surgery. (Which is an eventually plan, trust me! >.< ) But lately I have noticed a bit of an issue, especially today. When my 'set' (binder and compression shirt) start to feel like theyve stretched out a bit, I toss them in my dryer for a few minutes (i read online that it's the way to go to get them back into shape). So I did so this morning before work, and noticed a difference immediatly. I didnt think much of it, really. Did my normal routine, and went to work. But ALL DAY I felt like I was short of breath, that I couldnt breathe. I've NEVER had this problem before. Ever. Maybe it simply shrunk down too much, but after reading horror stories, I always worry that I'm inflicting damage to my lungs or something. They say beauty is pain. But people dont realize that unbeauty hurts too. I dont wear makeup anymore, and never really did to be honest. But now my eyes feel dry all the time. I dont wear chapstick as much because I feel stupid putting it on, so now my lips split alot from chewing on them from my anxiety. And most of all...this whole binding thing. Now that I have them, I feel totally and utterly lost and horrible if I am forced to switch to a bra to 'give myself a break'. My boyfriend insists that during the weekends or at home, I wear nothing or a bra, and stay out of a binder. Which I can understand. But I cant go in public without them anymore...I hate it. I feel so stupid without them. Like the whole world is looking at my chest and not my face. But I've noticed the skin on the outter sides of my ribs, under my arms has become tender to the touch. Probably from the compression shirt rubbing. My 'you know whats' are tender and ache, and once I take off my binders..I do all I can to avoid anything brushing up against them or touching them in any way because they hurt. Then I have that damned irritation between and underneath. Sweat I suppose, from working in a 90F kitchen for 9 hours a day. But there's no way I can go back to a bra. I refuse. I'd rather suffer. Someone asked if maybe I'm wearing it too tight but mentally, for me, its not tight enough. I want it all hidden, but at what cost? I know they worry about my health, but for my mental health, I need this. But which is more important, mental or physical health? It's a toss up, really. "Six to one, half dozen the other" my boyfriend would say. I never really liked the phrase, but it works. In other news, I had decided to try photography, as suggested. And wouldnt you get my luck? I drop my damn ipod and smashed the screen all to cheese&crackers. So no camera for me Thanks karma, you're a doll. Maybe one day I'll look back on all this and laugh. Or maybe one day I'll look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking. Only time will tell. -Warren P.S. Sorry for the TMI o.o
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Today I did the unthinkable. I did something I desperatly have been avoiding for sooooo long. I put on a bra. My "binders" smelled like old deodorant, were gross with sweat from work, and I had no time to hand wash and dry them by the time I needed to go to work. So I had to resort to digging through my clothes and finding that dreaded contraption. Instantly I hated it. The straps felt like they were digging into my shoulders, the very hug of it felt forgien and misguided. The whole way to work, I wished I could turn that car around and go home and put my smelly gear back on. I avoided stopping at the store for this reason, so no calming Arizona Tea. Which meant stress. For some reason, when I'm at work and after my boyfriend leaves his shift..having a tea helps my nerves. It's not helping the diet, but I feel that if it is my only 'out' to the b.s. of work, so be it. But today I didnt have one. I kept knocking things over with my dreaded "tumors", getting my chef's coat all filthy (which was a HUGE 'no no' in the kitchen I learned at. My old Head Chef Woodward's very french tainted speech about clean jackets and spotless sleeves pestered me all night). It was extremely frustrating. On any normal nights, when wearing my gear, I feel fine. Yes, I have to go into the bathroom now and again and retuck it back down my work pants because it rides up, or readjust "them" because one is off set from the other and it looks funny; but I like it! I feel comfortable, finally! Not today. I just wanted to cross my arms over my chest, stick out my tongue and tell everyone to **** off. Thankfully my nightly meds were increased a bit so my anxiety didnt kick my royally unforgiving butt, but nevertheless it was irritating. When I dont have my gear on, it simply feels like theyre the center of attention. Even if no one is looking at them! It feels like they are. The only things I kept in mind to keep me busy all day were two things. 1)Justin (my bf) bought me a tea and it was waiting for me at home and 2) I had a set of custom fangs from Scarecrow Vampfangs waiting to be customized all for me. Life. Complete. I noticed something though. When I'm not wearing what I want, I'm severely uncomfortable. When I'm uncomfortable, I eat. When I eat from being uncomfortable, I eat BAD things. I normally avoid desserts at work, at all costs. Diet, darn it! Diet!.......I had a mint brownie with a scoop of vanila ice cream. Granted it was a small scoop and the brownie was the smallest one on the tray, but Still!! I should have said no! I shouldnt have fallen that far! I'm still kicking myself in the butt for it, and that was way back at lunch time. It's 11:15pm right now. We bought candy bars for at home but...I feel too guilty to eat one. I'm barely making it through the fruit juices I bought because theyre super sugary. I was so guilt ridden that I actually vollunteered to work an extra day this week. Yikes, what was I thinking?! Too late to back out now, they need me to come in. Well, tomorrow I'm off to Gamestop to get a new (newish. refurbished, 4th Gen) ipod because I've dropped my old one so many times that the glass is all falling off, and I keep cutting myself on it. Sort of excited about that, as long as I'm actually able to pick one up. Maybe then I can start that photography a little, eh? Eh? lol I'll maybe post a few if I start doing it. God knows with all the fall leaves in my area, I could leave for work a few minutes earlier so I can stop and take a few snapshots. That'd be nice. Plenty of nice views around here. Well, I think that's it for now. I think. If I think of anything else, it'll be in the next blog XD Tootles for now, -Warren
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I went to see my doctor again today, simply for a check in or a check up on my medications and what not. Normally I'm very nervous about seeing the doctor. I had a lot of health issues I were dealing with and always worried about 'getting in trouble' with my doctor. Granted, I love her to pieces, and she cares more than any other doctor I have EVER had. But in the same aspect, shes not afraid to tell me how it is, and boot me in the butt for not taking care of myself. When I finally told her about the self harm, she were not only concerned, but angry with me for not telling her to begin with. She gave me plenty of ideas of helping myself, and sent me off with a parting threat. "If you dont realize how special you are and nip this problem in the butt, I'll find you even more help than what I can give you, and you will not like it. I promise." I knew what the 'more help' was. I'd heard about it plenty enough. Mental Help Ward at the hospital. NO. THANK. YOU. ANYWAY.....after being lectured about weight and this and that..I was really nervous to go back to the doctors today. I'd been working really hard at behaving and eating right and whatnot, and this monday (10/20/14) will be my THIRD WEEK of no self harm. Which, for anyone who's struggled with it, knows thats a HUGE deal for me. I took the steps to protect myself and even handed over my instruments, and informed two people of where I were getting these items...so they could remove them for good. It was hard, but I'm glad I did. Because in a desperate need for relief, I went looking for where I get my normal tools. And found nothing but air. So I were forced to cope. And as horrible as it was that day, I'm glad for it. To find another way to deal with my growing anxiety and gutwrenching depression, I turned to my skills, as my doctor instructed. Drawing, music, and writing. I have started to RP (roleplay, in form of book writing paragraph by paragraph with another participant. In this case, my good friend Destinee who has been nothing but awesome and caring) on my ipod during work to distract me from the stressful reminder that I'm surrounded by hundreds of people all day. (I work at a college dining hall as a chef) And though I'm not supposed to be on my ipod, everyone assumes I'm just changing music, or know I do it for my anxiety, and no one has told me not to. Yet. Here's hoping they wont. When I cant RP, or when I'm not in the mood, I draw. I have a designated book which I have dubbed "My Blade Book". On the back, I have written my favorite quotes in marker. I'll share them with you "To Thine Own Self be True" by shakespeare "Without struggle, there is no progess" by Fredrick Douglas "The Good die young, but the greatest survive" by My Chemical Romance "We've come a long way since that day, and we'll never look back at the faded silhouettes" Avicii "One final fight for this tonight" Black Veil Brides "Yes, sir. I'm one of a Kind" G-Dragon "It's my party, I'll do what I want. So while you sit and watch me, I'll keep dancing" Jessie J "Dont lose who you are in the blur of the stars. Seeing is decieving, dreaming is believing. ITS OK NOT TO BE OK. Just be true to who you are" Jessie J On the inside covers I have (Front) Blade Free Book. Draw, dont scar. F*** the world, live for you. The good die young but the greatest survive the stereotype. Dont just be "Another boy without a sharper knife" (Back) "Sometimes its hard to follow your heart. Tears dont mean you're losing, everybody's bruising. Just be true to who you are. Theres nothing wrong with who you are" by Jessie J, my favorite artist. I draw whatever comes to mind, be it angry faces or just something to calm me. And honestly.....it helps. A LOT. ANYONE going through what I have been, should consider this. Find a book, any old book. Write your name on it. Cover it in quotes that inspire and soothe you, and just put what you feel in it. Use it as your own personal outlet. And if you feel brave enough, share it with someone. It helps me a lot. Aside from my Blade Book, I blog. Why? Because it helps. I have a physical social anxiety disorder. To put it simply, I cant deal with talking to people. Face to face, in physical contact, I just cant handle it. I get frustrated, flustered, uneasy, anxious...you name it. On here....I feel so blessed, I must say. I can blog and vent and talk about my whole transgender journey...and not be judged. I dont have to spend all night deleting harmful and negative comments, and it is sooooooo so soothing to know that I dont have to worry about who is reading my blogs. Because even though to me this is more like a diary, I can take comfort in the fact that I'm not keeping it to myself. I'm sharing, and maybe....MAYBE even helping someone else like me, who is reading it and realizing...they're not alone. That someone out there is going through things JUST like them. I love the fact that I can talk about anything on here without editing out some parts so I dont offend someone, because I know everyone on here who reads this is nothing but supportive and caring and trusting. I cannot possibly express how appreciated it is. But, I got severely side tracked, as always. THE DOCTOR VISIT! So, the outcome: I have lost 15 pounds since my last visit (which my doctor was over the top excited about ) and I have no new self harm wounds (which she also got super excited about lol) and I told her about all the different things I've been doing as outlets instead. The writing and drawing and whatnot. Also the tattoo idea was supported greatly, her words being "Out of Sight, Out of Mind. You dont see it (scars), you wont think about it. Plus with something beautiful there, you wont want to wreck it!" Which I agreed with 100000%. Though its waiting till the end of november because its sort of expensive. She urged me to try and lose another 15pnds by the end of janurary (GAME ON! Right...after....this bowl of icecream. HEY I DESERVE IT DARN IT!) And to keep up my hard work of resistance. Hell. Yes. First time I've left the doctors with a smile on my face Alrighty world, I'm done ranting and raving. Even my crappy night at work couldnt push away my happiness of a silly doctors visit. I'm on a roll, darn it! -Warren
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Sometimes I forget when this all started, or if it ever had a start to begin with. "To Thine Own Self Be True" Shakespeare said that. In his act of Hamlet...Polonius in Hamlet said "This above all: to thine own self be true,And it must follow, as the night the day,Thou canst not then be false to any man.Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!" The first bit always got to me. 'To Thine Own Self Be True" I didnt discover this quote until one night I were surfing the internet, my left arm numb and puffy from another bad day, and it just randomly popped out at me. I'd always been a fan of Shakespeare and Longfellow, and of course Mark Twain. But it were on that particular night, when I had attempted and failed to take too many medications. I'd simply had enough. I didnt want to deal with the pain and anguish of life unknown. To endure the suffering frustration of not knowing who I were, or what I were doing, or why I were so cruelly cursed the way I were. I kept thinking "If there even is a god, why would he play a joke so cruel as to put my mind in the wrong body, just to watch me suffer? And not only let others alienate me, but let me alienate myself." I were no stranger to pain. I were a very clumsy child by birth. Constantly breaking bones or bruising my flesh by accident, so much in fact that the doctors pulled me aside at the age of thirteen and asked if my widowed mother were abusing me. She werent, of course. But I were always bruised. At the age of seventeen or so, I began the foolish endeavor of burning. I'd heat up a butter knife with a candle, and burn myself. On my neck, my shoulders, my arms...none scarred though. I werent sure why I were doing it, I only knew that it made my emotional breakdowns better. I knew there were something going on with me, and I couldnt figure out what. I were always sad, always annoyed, always angry. Nothing anyone could do or say would help, but increase it. Unfortunatly, nothing my mother would say or do helped either. She seemed to make things so much more worse, and it wouldnt be until I got older did I realize she werent doing it to be mean. She just didnt understand what was happening to her daughter. I refused dresses, I despised shopping, and every part of me wanted to break down and start to scream when she demanded I keep my hair long. I hated myself, and I couldnt even understand why. Looking in the mirror, staring at my reflection, and wishing I could make it disappear. All of it. I didnt know what I wanted different, but I just wanted it. I didnt understand why the terms "miss, ma'am, girl, woman" offended me so much. They're just words, right? Just things people would say? It never occurred to me... When people would say "because you're a girl" or "girls shouldnt do that", All I wanted to do was scream on top of my lungs and tell them to shove it down their throats. I were so violent...all the time. I became severely depressed, and nothing could soothe me. Id always wanted to continue doing self harm, but I never worked up the nerve. I couldnt get myself to start. You see...I didnt want to die. I didnt want to take that chance, and have an accident. I just wanted to numb out the mental anguish. Back this year, I had finally leapt that boardwalk and plunged into the darkness of regret. I had finally told my boyfriend that I were bisexual. That part was easy. He were actually glad for it. But when I told him I were male, just not physically, my life turned upside down. Our relationship strained, though neither of us would let go of it. We couldnt...not after four years together. I found something at my place of work, in the first aid box on the wall. At first it were innocent. I had a splinter, so I found something called a "Splinter-Out". Nothing that could cause serious, life threatening damage. I took out a splinter, and were amazed by how well it worked... And I started my journey through the darkness. It started with just a few. Two cuts, that's all. But then it became four. And five. As I sit here, I can count out the twenty-five little pink scars on my left and right arms. And those are the ones that remained, not including the ones that never stayed behind. It became a staple for my anxiety, to hold back my fits of emotional breakdowns. The physical pain numbed out the emotional turmoil. But when I realized that I couldnt 'just stop', it scared me. I turned to my boyfriend, and a few online friends. So far, I'm on day 14 of no cutting. And it's not easy. Today has been horrible.... That's why I'm writing. To distract myself. To pass the time, and keep myself safe. And mostly...to get it off my chest. I'm in the process of getting a tattoo over my scars. A nice victorian gothic scroll over my forearm. And the quote on top of it? "To Thine Own Self Be True" -Warren
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These past two days have both been wonderful, and difficult. Prideful, and shameful. It started out with a simple errand. My boyfriend had to work, so I went into town on my own, something I rarely get the opportunity to do. So I threw on my binder and a lose black sweater and my jeans, and wandered half an hour from home to do my errands. Grab some groceries, refill on meds, things of that nature. One thing that I needed to pick up, was an auto paint pen. For those of you who arent sure what that is, it's just the paint to fix scratches on your vehicle in the accessability of a marker. So I gathered the barcode and color code, and wandered in to find it. I knew where I was going, because I rather enjoy being at the autopart store, and knew where things were. But out of no where I heard "How can I help you, sir?" I paused, looking over my shoulder. Surely that werent for me....was it? It was. I couldnt help but stare at the man and do all I could to resist smiling from ear to ear. He didnt say miss, or ma'am, or lady....he said sir. SIR. I wanted to hug him, I was so happy. Finally! Expecially since I've seen this man before plenty of times while with my boyfriend, but that was back when I dressed like a girl and had the unbearable waist-long hair. Now....I was sir. Unfortunatly they didnt have the paint that I needed, so I left empty handed, but with a smile on my face. They didnt understand why I looked so happy after being turned down of products, but that was just fine with me. My next stop was over to UnderArmor, to find a compression shirt. I was nervous, not sure what I was looking for at all, and wandered aimlessly in confusion. Eventually I decided to ask for help, and actually had to stop and think when they asked if I was looking for mens or womens clothing. I nearly gagged when I said womens...I wanted to say mens, but if it was a matter of how it would work, I guessed it was better to be honest. She wandered around to try and help me out, but came up empty handed. So she called upon the manager, Adam. Who, by the way, threw off all the hints that perhaps he were less than straight. Which was just fine with me. He smiled and helped me out, but then he stopped and stared at me. His gaze told of nothing but concern and sympathy, before he got really close and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Darling I love you just the way you are, and please do not be offended...but is this going under a binder?" he asked. I wanted to hide. I wanted to shove him out of my way and run from that store like a lunatic. But instead I stood dumbfounded, ashamed, and nodded. He smiled though, touched my shoulder, and gave me a wink. "Perfect. Now I know what you need" he grinned. He was so helpful! One look and he guessed my size, showed me what would work best for what I needed, and I left with two shirts (which were PERFECT by the way, this man was a GENIUS!) and another grin. THOSE were my PRIDEFUL moments.....then came my shame. The next night, my boyfriend and I decided to go watch Dracula in the theater, being that I am HUGE into the vampiric mythology and Dracula could practically be my uncle I grabbed his button up black shirt, because I love how it fits, and even took the time to throw some junk in my hair to keep it looking decent. Something I dont normally even bother with because I sort of like my messy look XD I had no problems until we got to the theater, and I decided to use the restroom before the movie started. Something told me this werent going to go well for some reason, but I went anyway. I went in the women's restroom, because that's what I'm used to, and I havent gotten to the point yet that said it's alright to go in the mens. Did my business, etc. Everything was fine until I went to wash my hands, and was confronted by a middle aged mom with a toddler on her hip, a look of horror on her face. "What the **** are you doing in here?!" was her screams in my face. I were confused at first, til I realized that just like the day before, perhaps I didnt look feminine. "There are little girls in here! Get the **** out, you pedophile!" she yelled. Everyone were staring at me now, and I didnt know what to do. I tried to move past her to wash my hands, but she continued to yell at me the whole time I were at the sink. Calling me names, calling me a pervert, and even one of the little girls went to hide in one of the stalls because she thought a boy was in the girls room. My face were so red with shame and embarrassment, that I wanted to curl up in a corner. I didnt even bother to dry my hands, I just fled the bathroom with my head down, hearing the door slam behind me and the excited screaming of the woman on the other side of it. I hate the way I am. I always have. But this....this just made me feel so much worse. I dont belong in the men's room..not yet. But....now I dont even belong in the women's bathroom either? I dont like germs...I'm slightly germaphobic. But now....**** public bathrooms. I'll hold it. So in one way, it was a good experience, because it goes to show that I'm slowly molding into the man I want to be. But in another way, it's pushing me further into that void where I dont belong with them, I dont belong with the guys....I dont belong anywhere. I'm in limbo, and there's no where to go except forwards or back. I really hope I'm not messing things up, -Warren
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Well, this is my second blog on here. It's been a long while since I were on here, mostly due to password issues. XD ANYWAY: the trip up to see my family went much better than I had expected, to be honest. My family had always been the judgemental type. You know the kind....all cops are pigs, governments out to get us, gays are weird, etc etc etc. So NATURALLY I were petrified to talk to my mother about my transgender issues. Of course I had already informed my older sister of what was going on, and she was totally cool with it. Really, she was. I almost died of shock. BUT due to a court battle between my sister and her abusive Ex in order to keep her two ADORABLE daughters, all of her messages became public to....DUN DUN DUUUUUN. My mother. So, of course, my mom found out. And my mom being...well, my mom....she has a loud mouth. So after driving three hours north, getting lost and backtracking another hour, I finally arrived at my mom's new home up on the mountainside. And was pleasantly and anxiously surprised to find not just my mom and siblings and two nieces, but also my uncle I havent seen in six years, my grandfather I havent seen in five, and my aunt that I havent seen in probably ten years. All were sitting at the table waiting for me. Just me. To get right to the point, they had all travelled to my moms house with knowing that I was coming for a visit, Just to tell me that it's okay. And they'll accept me how ever I am. I literally cried with relief. I was driving up there expecting my mom to throw me out on the lawn in horror. I dont think me and my mom have ever been closer, actually. It was so much more comfortable to walk around at night in a tshirt and my boxers without worrying about them judging me for it. True they were a little awkwarded out by it, but they got used to it. The visit ended a few days later with plans for me to kidnap my youngest sister who is suffering a lot of the same issues I did at her age, a syndrom we all know as 'black sheep'. My family is into horses, outdoors, simple things. My sister, like me, loves Black Veil Brides, rock music, punk hairstyles, dark clothes, etc. So naturally, I'm proud to have another 'black sheep' in the family and I plan to have her down at my place for a few days of 'outcast hangout'. Should be a blast. Also, I BOUGHT MY FIRST BINDER I was super excited and my boyfriend agreed to let me buy a binder. I got it from Manshape, and its not so much of a binder I guess, but a compression tank? Not sure what it was called. I cried when I put it on, soooooo relieved to see a difference. But, naturally, after a while I just wanted to see even less. I've been working out for half hour before I go to work every day, focusing on shoulder and chest exercises. I've gone from 226 pounds down to 213! So excited. I was angry that my binder didnt seem to do jackshiz until I realized that it was because, DUH, I'm losing weight. So it's not as tight. This saturday I plan to buy a compression shirt from UNDERARMOR to try and help with it until I can buy another binder. A better one, hopefully. DOCTOR UPDATE: I went back to see my doctor for a check up on my new meds and whatnot. We talked about the gender thing, and she has said she found me a doctor, but his waiting list is a little long, so she's getting ahold of one more local. Impatient, I've been looking on my own as well. The area I live in is sort of vague on doctors who cover that sort of thing, going between two to five hours away from where I live, which I financially cannot afford. BUT, my silver lining: There is a therapist office in the town that I work, where I know my insurance should be accepted, because I were told there are at least 6 of my coworkers who go to that office for other issues. So, here's hoping I can get in. I've started a box called my 'boy box' where I have been saving some of my paychecks here and there, and its funds to go towards either binders, surgery, or therapy. Whatever is needed for my transformation, that money is for that purpose only. And it's racking up, much to my delight All in all, things have gotten a bit better. My relationship with my boyfriend is still a bit strained, though the tension is lessening a bit and is more focused on my own peace of mind with the situation and things that I want to do that either he doesnt, or I cant. It's a working progress. More update later, now that I'm done babbling and spilling my beans. Now if I could only stop accidently writing 'Ren' as my name at work instead of my legal name, I can keep this secret a tad bit longer at work! -Warren
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So this is my first time with this...First time even blogging, actually. At the current moment I am several hours overdue to go to bed before a trip back north to see my mother, and perhaps this is why I have finally convinced myself to perhaps seek some guidance and support from others 'like me'. I say that as if I'm damaged cans at a grocery store..that's rather shameful I suppose. So, a little about myself I guess? I'm 22 years old, I love horseback riding and enjoy writing in my own books, IMVU, and cooking. Oh yeah, and I'm transgendered? I think. I'm not entirely sure what you would consider it yet. I were born genetically female, but always knew I werent. I remember the first vivid time when I realized it was what I wanted and needed, I were probably 6 or 7. That was the first time I realized that there was something strange going on, and wondered 'what if I magically just POOF turned into a boy?'. I got excited to that notion. Till I were informed that it were impossible. I went several years denying myself the possibility until I discovered that yes, it IS possible to change myself to suit how I saw myself. I were so excited, but my family were not the sort of people I felt comfortable talking to about it. So I kept it bottled up, sending subtle and ignored hints. Soon after I decided to do something about it, I met my boyfriend, now of four years. I did not tell him about my intentions or thoughts, hoping that perhaps actual dating would cause these feelings to go away. Like a phase, perhaps. But they didnt. They got worse, and I finally broke down and told him. He's accepting, and is trying to understand and help me. But I see the look in his eyes.... I'm now drowning in antidepressants and meds for my anxiety disorder, yet still have found myself miserable. I avoid mirrors, cringe when people call me by my born gender, and curl up in a corner when I realize that I have no way of fixing it yet. I cannot start a transition on the outside because not only do I have no idea where to start, but who do I turn to? I finally told my doctor, and she has been kind about it, and has tried to look for someone to help me out. But, I have to wait. She said it could be until the end of the year before I even hear anything.....this is agonizing. Is it possible to absolutely despise your appearance so badly that you imagine changing it yourself even if it could be life threatening? I've had several days where I've wanted to find a sharp enough knife, and "take care" of my "problem" areas. But, for natural and sane reasons, this has never gone farther than rather gross mental images. I'm at a loss. I dont know where to turn. I have one transgendered friend, but she is across the country, and though i greatly value her opinions and support, its slightly different. I seek help from a fellow FTM, and she's MTF. So sometimes I fear that what she knows is going to be the opposite of what I actually need. Anyway, I'm rambling now. Guess thats what happens when you decide to blog at 2o'clock in the morning -Warren
