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WarrenG

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  1. WarrenG

    Alien Sims 0.0

    By WarrenG,

    Sometimes I wonder if the life I live is actually just some sick and twisted nightmare, then other times I just assume I’m in limbo somewhere for some unspeakable crime against humanity.
    Then other times I cant help but wonder if any of the “reality” is reality at all. Or if maybe the whole universe is just split up into atoms within an alien computer somewhere and they’re fooling around with the system like some weird outer space version of The Sims. But maybe that’s just my creative writer coming out and saying “Yo, dummy, get back to your books you weirdo”
    But that’s beside the point I guess. Either I’m real flesh and blood with some issues, or I’m some alien Sims with my body switched with some dude with an attitude. Either way I guess I can live with it
    ANYWHO, I suppose you all would like an update on the comings, goings, and interesting phenomenon that is involved with this freakishly creative individual we call Ren-Ren-Rawr (apparently what my bf calls me instead of “girlfriend” or “boyfriend” because hes not comfy with bf, and I’m not comfy with gf)
    So yesterday, I had a rather productive day and got my butt in gear and drove the (almost) hour long drive to the larger hospital in my area, Dartmouth Hitchcock (the name still cracks me up!) and went up to the financial aid help center about my 5,000+$ bill with them. Last time I went (cant remember if I told ya’ll) was NOT an enjoyable experience in the least. The woman (unnamed) were rude, ruthless, unhelpful and discriminative. She made it abundantly clear that she were NOT going to use my preferred pronouns, my now-legal name, etc etc. And made a point to tell me that she is in basic control of all the financial aid paperwork, emails, etc so I would still have to deal with her no matter what I do, PLUS her telling me that I am NOT allowed to set up payments for my overdue account until they go to collections, which to me sounded like absolute manure. I left heartbroken and ridiculously annoyed. ON THE CONTRARY, this time, I went up to the front desk and asked to be seen for applying for financial aid now that I’m basically jobless. I also mentioned that whoever was on my file the last time I were there, I would like to NOT see because she were rude and disrespectful. The secretary seemed surprised but nodded in acceptance.
    So I waited about half an hour and finally were seen, by a woman named April who were AMAZING. Super understanding, patient, and fun to talk to. I explained the situation that happened last time I were there, and she were reasonably furious. Immediately she wrote down whatever I told her about the last woman I saw, and said she would immediately speak to her manager about the situation once our meeting was over, and assured me that she would keep my name off the report. Which made me feel much better, I’ll admit. She were very understanding and when I let her know that I preferred MALE pronouns, she promptly agreed and not once did she faulter! She walked me through the state insurance application, helped me with it and printed out a copy for me to keep on hand before emailing it out. Then she went through the paper application with me and assured me she would send it to both THAT hospital and to another that I also owe money to. I explained my situation with the needs for transgender therapy and my hopefulness for surgery in the future, and she then went to her manager to make sure that the insurance she were helping me sign up for would cover most, if not all, of those things that I were looking for. She was, in the best description, a life saver. I left (after two hours lol) feeling relieved and hopeful, and saved her business card so that I can give her a stunning review on their appointment outcome papers.
    (Found this and thought it was awesome :P) 
    Right after, I stopped in at my regular doctor’s office and let her know that I would like a paper from her stating that she DOES agree that I have gender dysphoria, and that she is aware of my issues with the dysphoria and is in support of me starting treatment for it. I also asked for a copy of my file from my ex-therapist Joan, along with a letter from her as well about my dysphoria. My plan (helped from another friend) is to take these papers, and the files, to the Gender Therapist when I get insurance to talk to him. That way there is evidence that I have had this diagnosis for a while, and have been publicly living as a male for some time, and hopefully be able to skip over the year’s worth of gender therapy and get closer to surgery. I’m very hopeful on this, but I’m not fool enough to assume it WILL work. But it’s worth a try!
    Otherwise, things are going alright  I’m getting an update on my nightmare medication as those issues have returned, unfortunately. But nothing I cant handle, I assure you. I tried a “Root Beer” beer as well, and although I am NOT a fan of beer, I actually really liked this one! It does have that hint of beer to it, but is mostly overridden by the root beer flavor It was delightful, and I cannot wait to try it in a rootbeer float!! It’s called “Not your Father’s Rootbeer” in case you’re wondering
    My youtube channel is getting closer to being started, and I will film my first “episode” this coming Wednesday. When it is fully posted, I will certainly share the link with everyone This one will be my introduction, and also about some quick ‘fashion tips for transgenders’. Feel free to hit me up with ideas or subscribe! The channel is “DubstepHeartbeat” in case you’re wondering.
    (a giggle for you)
    Well, I think that’s it for this blog post. I’ll let you know if I have anything else to yammer on about
    Your Buddy,
    Warren
  2. WarrenG
    Hey, Ladies and Gents and Uniques. It's me again. As I sit here on memorial day, sipping a Mikes Hard Lemonaid, I decided a good random blog was overdue.

    First off, thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday.  It was much appreciated to read them . On the note of my trip to the ocean, it....didnt exactly go as planned. At all. We got up at a decent time, stopped at the local gas station and gathered ourselves some drinks for the three hour ride. Everything started out so smoothly! You're starting to catch my hint, arent you? Well, we missed a turn on the busy four-lane interstate, but we soon shrugged it off. We knew we'd get a little lost anyway, so we didnt panic. An added adventure! Well one wrong turn turned into about an extra hour of wandering around cluelessly. Somehow we managed to find ourselves on familiar roads, and headed towards our destination. Plum Island Beach, MA. I love going to the Plum Island Nature Reserve, because they have a wonderful beach. Although it would be mostly closed for Plover season (bird nesting), I knew that the back section would still be open so we'd be all set!
    I was very....very mistaken. We pulled up to the entrance, and found ourselves sitting in a line of about eight other cars. No big deal, I thought. We just hit a random rush, that's all. How wrong I was......They were turning people away because they were so full, they had no more room for anyone to even enter. We travelled three hours, only to be told to go away. My heart sunk, and I was destroyed with disappointment. Now grumpy and sulking, I drove us away and headed further up to another beach. But it were the same situation. "Beach Full". So we kept going....and going....and going....We were on the road a total of seven hours. No where to stop, no beaches with room, and after two hours in traffic to travel the distance of ONE mile. I was soooooooooo SO done. I just wanted to go home at this point. I didnt want to deal with it anymore. My depression had already been in full swing this week, and going to the ocean was supposed to be my reprieve from it all. Only for it to be thrown back in my face like....well...sand in my eyes. Only I never got to get to the sand.
    The most ocean I saw was whatever I could spot over the guardrails as we drove along the coast. Depressing and infuriating. Eventually I got so annoyed with getting lost AGAIN and not knowing where the hell I were going, that I left the driver's seat and had my boyfriend drive instead. Worst part? This whole trip was to take my little sister to the ocean, who was visiting and looking forward to it. Though she swears its no big deal and she's totally fine with it, I knew she were disappointed. That's what p***ed me off the most. I failed.
    On another note, just the day before which totally ruined my hopes-----That CEO I were supposed to talk to? Well, we talked, and he gave me names of two women to get ahold of for some help. One is apparently very popular and into politics, so for her safety, there is NO contact information for her. The other, who we will simply call "K", had a phone number.
    So of course I called her. She answered with a rather sharp tone, demanding to know who I was and what I wanted. I explained that I were told to contact her (we had already agreed to call eachother thru an email) and who my friend was who told me who she was, and what my situation was. She seemed rather bent out of shape already, but I couldnt help but detect a bit of annoyance and hostility about the phonecall. She demanded to know what I had done to help my transition, as if questioning my willingness to work for it. I explained that I couldnt do much because my state is limited on help for the transgender individuals, and that since losing my job, I also lost insurance. She demanded to know why I didnt have insurance, and I told her that it's hard to find one right now that will accept me. Then she wanted to know what I had done on my part to get closer to surgery. I informed her that I had managed to save up 2k$ of the 9k$ needed for surgery. She cut me off, demanding to know who told me it was a 9k$ surgery. I told her that it was from the surgeon, and she wanted to know WHO. Name, facility, etc. I told her I didnt remember, because I didnt feel the need to look more into those details until I had the funds to get the surgery. I explained that they told me no surgery without HRT for one full year. At that point, she cut all ties to the conversation. In lack of other ways to explain it, it felt very much like she were, in fact, SCOLDING me for contacting her if I had not had HRT yet. Even though I told her that the main reason for it was because I have no funds to pay for the hormones yet, she still acted as though I were wasting her time. Saying that no one will ever touch any of my surgeries unless I take hormones, in a rather rude and forceful way. I kept my tone even and explained that I understood, apologized for disturbing her, and wished her a good rest of the day. But once I hung up, I will admit, I were reduced to tears.
    I'm so tired of the dead ends. The walking in circles for nothing. Ending up empty handed. It seems nothing wants to go my way, or even CLOSE to my way.In hopes that maybe, MAYBE it would help, I did contact the place I used to have a therapist at. One of the things someone has mentioned was that I might get passed hormone requirements IF I have records from a professional stating that I have had transgender dysphoria for a while, and records of me discussing my distaste for starting hormones until after surgery. So I contacted the therapists office and left a message, asking for copies of all my records and notes for a gender therapist later on. Hopefully I'll get a call back tomorrow, and can pick them up later. Not only for future use, but maybe I'll get a better idea on what the hell my therapist was scribbling on her notebook all the time I was with her. Be a good read, anyway.
     
    On ANOTHER note (Just noticed I say that a lot. Oh, one more after this!) My hair is cut, dyed, and styled. And I love it  Although I'm still slightly annoyed with the situation that went on while at the salon (details in previous blog) I cannot deny that she knows how I want my hair and hits the nail on the head every time. The blue color didnt stay like I'd hoped, but it's no big deal. I like the blackness of it. I miss having black hair  Plus for some reason I feel like I'm more confident with it. Suits me better, I think.
    The second note (oh lawd...) is that I am FINALLY going to kick myself in the butt and put together my youtube channel. Although I havent loaded any videos yet, I have it set up and ready to go! DubstepHeartbeat is the name of the channel, and it will be dedicated to personal videos on being transgender, trans tips for ftm AND mtf, my transition experiences, etc. After my intro video, one of the first topics I had been asked to discuss was "not trans enough". I have that pretty well figured out, but I would LOVE any ideas for topics that you guys can think of I'd like to post videos weekly, and get the ball rolling. Though I may be doing them in my car every week (only place I can talk openly without people overhearing and being jerks) it'll be an interesting experience nonetheless.
    Wish me luck, and talk to you all soon,
    Warren 

  3. WarrenG

    Muddy Trenches

    By WarrenG,

    Sometimes I cant help but wonder why I bother trying. Why I push so hard to make things right...
    Today's my birthday, yes that much is true. And it werent a 'bad' day, and my bfs family and whatnot did what they could to make it nice for me. But I'll admit, it was a little hurtful not to see "Warren" or "Ren" on my birthday card. Due to butting heads about it, they left it blank...Instead of a birthday cake, they did a various sliced cheesecake...most likely to avoid the name situation again. Why is it so goddamn hard to use a name that I LEGALLY claimed as my own? Just thinking about the stubbornness makes me tear up...It's not fair...
    Although the beach trip was postponed from Saturday to Sunday for better weather, I cant help but get super grumpy at the same time every night, not sure why. Consistantly, every single night, I get overwhelmingly p***ed off every time at absolutely nothing, making people around me miserable. I dont mean to do it, it just....happens...
    I'm gaining weight back, which doesnt really sit well with me, making me even MORE depressed. I joined a transgender support group on facebook which, at first, was great. Made me feel good to talk to other FTMs and whatnot, but recently I've found it more and more depressing. Watching other transguys go through their lives successfully with supportive family and friends, getting their surgery dates and starting hormones....I dont have any of that. I have two supportive people, and the rest are "tollerating" my "condition". I cant afford my surgery. I cant afford hormones...I literally cannot help but cry like a baby when I think about how long I'll be stuck with these f***ing "tumors"....I want them gone. Perminatly. I dont want a half-assed downsizing, I want them GONE. G.O.N.E.
    I'm just....so tired of waiting...Nothing is going anywhere. I'm walking in circles it seems. Nothing I do changes any of it. At least, that's what it feels like. I've found myself curling up in a ball trying to sleep, crying and thinking about it all. I'm stuck in a hole.....
    My state has nothing to help me with, as if it's bound and determined to keep me in my "feminine place". My insurance was useless when I DID have it, and now that I dont have any at all, it hurts even more. Everywhere I turn to, turns into a dead end. Endless loops. Anyone I meet who is supposed to help, cant. Anyone I hope to understand, doesnt. I'm just so lost...Even now, thinking about how much I'm in the dark on direction, I start to tear up. I've fallen back into that dark corner of my mind, regardless of what I do. I took a double dose of my muscle relaxant, as I were told I'm allowed to, just to try and sleep and escape my grief. Come to find out, I cannot handle that much, and had a reaction to it. I dont even remember damaging my bicep, all over again....and now...I'm hooked all over again. It's all I think about. All that crosses my mind. Dare I say, the habit has captured me in my vulnerable state once more.
    Went to the salon today to get my hair cut....A place where my hairstylist KNOWS that I'm transgendered. We've talked about it and I gave a brief discussion, and she'd never questioned it before. Never had a problem, and I loved going there! I still do, to a degree.....She hired another boothrenter, or another stylist you could put it, to help her with the work load. This 2nd hairdresser seemed nice enough, really. I didnt have an issue with her for the most part. But...she kept repeatedly calling me feminine pronouns and such, and it was really starting to bug me...Waiting for MY stylist to say something only seemed to hurt more when she said "Why dont you go let this sit while I cut your sisters hair?" to my little sister...about me...... Dare I say it, my heart broke a little. I smiled and ignored it, but it hurt...it still hurts...I know some of it is on my part for not stepping up and saying something about it, but how could I? Not without it making a scene or upsetting someone. It just....it hurts....everything hurts. Emotionally I'm exhausted. Mentally I'm conflicted. Physically I'm weak. I cannot go to bed without getting so frustrated I end up punching parts of myself because I just hate them. I hate them being there. I hate seeing them. I hate feeling them. I hate literally EVERYTHING about them...
    I dont even regret self harming...I'm not hurting anyone but myself. And sometimes its the only relief I get, and none of it is life threatening. So what does it really f***ing matter? If no one can help me with my gender problems, how the hell do I expect someone to help me with my harming problems? I'm a wreck, and I'll just have to deal with it. Lay in the mud of the trench that is my life. Occasionally I have the little flowers that pop up out of the mud like you guys, my boyfriend or two sisters. But basically....that's it. And its hard to see them through all the mud and darkness.... I just...dont know what to do anymore...
    I almost dont even care anymore.
    Warren
    (new hair. mastered the fake smile)
    .
     
  4. WarrenG

    Dragging my Feet

    By WarrenG,

    I cant help but feel slightly offbalanced knowing that I haven’t posted a blog in a while, and that my last blog was rather…eh, how to put it…..rabid? Furious?
    Either way, I’m not entirely proud of it and I apologize for the negative ranting that you all so lovingly put up with. Sometimes we just got to get it out of our systems I guess.
    No worries though, today’s is less snapping teeth and clenched fists. Today is sort of just a wander around and poking at flowers while caving in anthills type of blog.
    So, I did meet with my doctor for my last insurance-covered visit, just to get an update on meds and whatnot. So since around this time last year I have officially lost aprox’ 30pnds. Either from feeling more myself with the transition, maybe depression meds, or maybe it was just gonna happen anyway; either way I’m glad for it. Though I don’t feel like I have more energy, and my fight with clothing still persists, I do feel slightly better knowing I weigh a bit less. Aside from the rather lose and baggy skin left over, I’m a little happier with my body. I cannot credit it to workouts, however, because I’ve honestly not done enough of it to even consider it being a contribute to the weight loss. It’s too hard to breathe and function during workouts with such a heavy bust, and I applaude any woman who can do it comfortably.
    In other news, my neighbor/mom/gramma (she hasn’t decided which she likes best lol, SUPER supportive of my transgender awesomeness) has hooked me up over facebook with her friend Alan, who apparently is HUGE into LGBTQI rights(apparently the new LGBT) and is a CEO or something for some big company. Apparently he wants to talk to me about my transgenderness and the surgery thing and whatnot. Naturally I’m nervous as hell to talk to him, and not sure what to expect out of all of this.
    But hell, its worth a shot right? You never know. Ive joined a few groups on facebook for a little boost of support and know-how, such as a Pansexual group and a few transgender groups. It’s rather uplifting to talk to other ‘uniques’ such as myself, and I’m proud to be a confident panda (pansexual. We have a nickname! Schweet!) And although I cannot rule out thoughts of self harm now and again, I am a little proud to say that I am 100% healed and haven’t harmed since I quit my job. So that’s good I guess. Naturally I still have thoughts and such, but so far with the help of my sister (not biological but I’ll be damned if she aint my sister!) Destinee, I’ve been able to withhold these urges and stay clean of it.
    I slowly got more into photography again, though its only here and there, because the bugs in my area are HORRIBLE and I hate going outside with these little bastards and getting eaten alive. But I have noticed that my area of interest has been the sky, and I rather enjoy “screenshooting” the clouds. I’ll post some pics with this blog to show some, from the most recent thunderstorm in my area.

    Other than that, there isn’t much to talk about in this blog, as nothing has been too awfully exciting lately. Although my little sister/bro (theyre still figuring out, but may be gender fluid, which is totally fine with me) is coming down this week (after a frustrating debate with my mother on letting them come down -_-) for my birthday My birthday is May 22nd, so this Friday, and I’m turning 23  
    I’m taking my lil punk to the hair salon, and the both of us are gonna get cuts and they might bleach theirs. I don’t think I’ll bleach mine but am looking into dying it dark blue just for something different! Then, hopefully, the plum island beach on Saturday!
    So excited! I’m an ocean-aholic…….
    Sending you more pics soon,
    Warren
  5. WarrenG

    Anger issues.....

    By WarrenG,

    Well first off, I'd like to start out with 'WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO THE GUIDE?!"
    Although some change is good, I've found it a little difficult to navigate the site and find my things and whatnot.....not 100% I'm a fan of this new set up....I'm not even sure if I'm blogging in my usual place or if this is just going to float around randomly...
    Anyway, back to the blog.
    So it has been made very obvious to me that I have anger issues, according to.....well, I dont know. The world? My anger problems has basically ruined my job which I had to quit for more reasons than one but, yes, it basically came down to my attitude problem.
    But as the few weeks have passed I've come to realize that I am a very bipolar, angry person sometimes. Mostly during the evening.
    During the day, right after taking my usual poison (all the damn meds my doc shoves at me) I'm alright. I'm usually in a tollerable mood, for the most part. But in the afternoons....I loose it. The littlest things p*** me right the f*** off. Misspelling things. Dropping things. Banging my elbow on something, not getting comfortable--ANYTHING sets me off into a rage and I just dont feel like I can deal with it. But the last thing I want is to complain to my doc and have her tell me to take even more meds. I'm so f***ing done with taking that crap. I'm sick of it.
    I have to take muscle relaxant meds for my back at night now because I cant sleep, and I told her that I now have to sleep in an upright position else I cant breathe because of these stupid (what I wanted to say was more like ****ing ***hole ****ing pieces of horse **** that I cannot ****ing stand, but let's keep it civil) but I've basically been told that theres nothing anyone can do about it unless I opt for breast reduction.
    News Flash: I do NOT want to go through a surgery that I do NOT WANT, only to have to deal with the depression of STILL HAVING THEM, and THEN deal with maybe going into surgery for a SECOND TIME and pay a SECOND BILL to finally finish what I wanted done in the first place.
    I seriously, seriously ****ing refuse to do it! If they're not willing to take care of the problem 100% then its not worth fighting with. I'm just....I'm so...so...so done....
    I havent cut in about two....maybe three weeks. My bicep looks flawless, tanned, healed....like it never happened. That's the strange thing about my "habit"...it almost never scars. So when its over and done with and I'm alright again, it's like nothing ever happened. I have no proof of my mental turmoil. No concrete evidence of my torment and depression. Not that it should matter, having the scars. But it's almost frustrating. After all the pain and anger and tears that went into it all...and nothing shows from it.
    My dysphoria has gotten worse.
    The constant nagging of having 44DD breasts bound tightly in nearly three shirts, suffocating, sweating like a farm animal; yet mentally I'm always stressing that they can still be seen. That the people around me can still see through my agonizing cover-up, and inside they're laughing at me. Judging me. Mocking my existance.
    What God would be so cruel as to force this onto a person? What had I done wrong to anyone to deserve such mental anguish? The embarrassment, the depression, and annoyance and anger........Yes, I have anger issues. Yes, I have anxiety problems. And yes, I have an attitude problem at times. But now I have to ask....Do you really, truely, seriously f***ing blame me?
    My mother mocks me behind my back, telling others lies and embarrassing rumors about my "attention seeking lifestyle". That I'm only transgendered for the attention. That I paid the 130$ to change my name, for attention. That I went through the bulls*** to get a new Social Security card....for attention. That I'm an embarrassment to her. To the family.
    My older sister keeps me from the nieces I've put so much on the line to protect and keep happy. My boyfriends family refuses to give in even a little bit to my new name or pronouns, and on top of all the crap I have to deal with from people who are my "family"...I then have to deal with my own problems.
    The constant desire to hide in the bathroom away from the world. The napping all day simply because if I'm awake, I have to wear my binders and be around people. The literal consideration of serious mutilation in order for the hospitals to HAVE to remove that which I despise. I didnt used to be this bad. I didnt used to think, act, feel, or behave like this.
    I was getting better....I hadnt dont any self harm. But now....I dont feel like I can keep that back. Hell, I shoved something down the front of my jeans today only because that emptiness made me feel sick. I've never had to go that far...I was comfortable with my lower half. I didnt like it, but I was comfortable with it. Now it's like I cannot handle any of it.
    And now that I have no insurance, no job, no life basically.....the hell else am I supposed to do?
    The gofundme has been a bust, and understandably. Everyone's broke, no one sees it as something nessesary or worthy, plus with all the stuff going on around the world like the shoots and Nepal and the earthquakes; my request seems childish and downright stupid. Selfish.
    I keep having thoughts, a voice I guess you could say. The phrases and sentences muttered in my voice, my tone, but not things I would normally grumble. Theyre depressing and only infuriate me even more. I'm not sure what to do anymore, except simply go back to bed.
     
    Good news is that this time last year, I weighted 236pnds. Today I weighed in at 204pnds. Guess that's good. Maybe, I dont know. Now I have lose, disgusting, annoying skin.
    Whatever.....
    Off to another pointless nap.
    Warren
  6. WarrenG
    Well, it is now 7:30am, and I've been up for about three to four hours so far. I'm not supposed to be to work until 11:45am but here I sit in the cafeteria of the college kitchen that I work at.
    My jeep's oil pan is so thin with corrosion that you can poke your finger through it, so to save myself a burning fireball of a vehicle on the way to work one interesting morning, I decided to share rides with my boyfriend.
    Who works an opposite shift than I do.
    Yay me.
    Anyway, to try and pass the time I’ve decided to blog about everything and anything on my mind this morning. Just because I can and you guys have been nice enough to listen to my ranting and whining so far without complaint. I value your opinions and ideas on this site and it’s always a breath of fresh air to be able to talk to you all comfortably with the knowledge that you’ll understand.
    A lot of people, I have noticed, are completely oblivious to the LGBT community within their own lives, and it’s actually really saddening. When I go to work every day, I know well of the stares that I’m to receive or the piss-poor attitudes of those around me who do not approve.
    Some even go as far as to rub my birth name in my face, and I do my best to ignore this. But sometimes it’s really hard and it drives me almost to tears. Sadly, a common thought in my mind on a daily basis is “Why are people such di**s?”
    I know I shouldn’t think about it, and I do attempt to let it slide off my shoulders but sometimes it is just simply not that easy. Some days I just want to walk up to the haters and knock their front teeth out.
    If I had the chance, and knew I would not be arrested, you bet you’re a** I would. In a heartbeat.
    Except for the girls. I’d probably just throw something in their face or ruin their favorite shirts or whatever it is that they care about. It certainly isn’t the feelings of others.

    On Another note, the impending doubt and fear of the 6th has started to spread throughout my bones. The fear of being told they wont help me. The anxiety of being turned away and told to deal with it. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle something like that….I really don’t.
    I have all my hopes up on this appointment and I know I shouldn’t stress, and plenty of people tell me to calm down and let it happen, that everything will be alright. But I cant just sit here and breathe easy. It’s not who I am. I’m impatient, I’m a fearful person, and my anxiety sometimes controls aspects of my life that I know it shouldn’t.
    It should be “I have anxiety” not “anxiety has me”. But sometimes its just not that simple to control.
    On another hand, I have managed to save up 1,488$ in my surgery funds. To me that doesn’t sound like a lot at all, but I know it’s a hell of a lot better than nothing.

    Something that happened just this morning, precisely twenty minutes ago right……now…still has me a bit irritated but I know it’s something I’ll have to get used to.
    Ma’am.
    I had ordered a birthday cake for my little sister for when I go up on May 2nd through hannafords. It’s a batman symbol, but also the symbol of her favorite band (and one of mine) Black Veil Brides. Anyway, I accidentally ordered it for April 30th, not realizing it’d be sitting in my fridge for almost 2 days before she’d get it. So I called to change it to May 1st instead, and had to do it on my cellphone which I know sucks.
    “I’m sorry, I think the connection is bad. Ma’am, are you still here?”
    Ugh……Sadly, yes. Yes I am.
    I responded with “Not a ma’am, but yes, I’m still here” to which she giggled back “Oh, my bad. You sounded like a chick”. Oh yeah? Don’t f***ing remind me!
    I do my best to deepen my voice, but without hormones I fear it’s something that’s never going to be quiet up to par. And my boyfriend has requested that out of the top surgery and name change and everything else in my transgendered life..hormones wont be one of the things I pick up.
    A little heart broken by the request because I’m not ‘built’ masculine, but I’ll take it. As long as I loose my ‘tumors’ and go by Warren, I can deal with the lack of a male face.
    I’ll just be a very fem guy.
    I just wish people would stop calling me feminine pronouns. Her, she, miss, ma’am, madam, lady, woman…..I take it all as an insult. And though I’ll admit sometimes its not their fault and they simply don’t know any different, there are those select few who DO know and don’t CARE.
    And that is the most frustrating. But no one said Transgenders had it easy, did they?
    Everyone here has felt that punch in the gut from the words of others. That stinging in your ears as someone calls you something you despise. Or that pounding in your chest when someone does call you something you want.
    Living the life of a transgender is a very emotionally trying adventure. But every adventure has it’s hills and rivers. You gotta be willing to climb that hill, and willing to get a little wet and muddy to cross the streams.
    Not everything is a grassy field you can simply waltz through. Sometimes you gotta put some boots on.
    (Just randomly wanna note that some old lady is literally staring straight at me and has been for the past ten minutes as I type. Can you say creeeeeeeeepy?)

    On another note, I’m increasingly becoming more and more of a shadow in my family. I’ve always sort of been a distant shadow but now I’m an unwelcomed one. Like the ghost that everyone knows about but no one understands. They fear and cower away from it without realizing it means no harm, and only wants to be seen. Or heard.
    I’ve kept my distance as best I dare manage without losing touch completely, for my little sister’s sake. But my nieces don’t even know my face anymore. My little sister asked my 5 year old niece Kai if she knew who I was, and she replied “nope. Is that your brother?”
    And my sister couldn’t even answer honestly. She cant say yes, because of the anger that would follow from my older sister and mother. But she couldn’t say no because she does not believe in pushing my gender identity into a corner. She sees me as her brother. A man, a guy, a dude. She’s the one shining star in my family of black holes. She accepts me for me and doesn’t ask questions. As long as I’m there for her, she doesn’t care what my name is or what I’m wearing or who I’m kissing.
    That’s what I love about her.
    She is completely open to the world, even with it shuts her out.
    Struggling with her own identity, she understands my pain. She “thinks” she is bisexual but has not reached that full point of knowing yet. She may be Lesbian, she doesn’t know. She’s explored the idea of transgender even before I came out to my family, but is hesitant. She doesn’t believe herself male, but doesn’t like female. I think she’s just Gender Fluid. Androgynous.
    I’d love her either way, no matter what she/he chose. It just takes time to figure yourself out. Took me years and I’m still discovering! I thought I were Lesbian, later discovered maybe it was actually bisexual, and now realize I’m actually Pansexual. Life is an ever changing journey, so you cant jump to conclusions.
    Never assume it’s over until you’re shaking hands with Death.

    Warren
  7. WarrenG
    Ok so I figured I'd start out by jumping right into my pool of angry venting and oblivious flailing. Sort of like a seagull who just witnessed some scumbag stealing "his" crumb. You ever watched a seagull in a McDonalds parking lot, when someone throws a french fry and some other gull grabs it? He's all "AAAAAH!!! YOU SCUMBAGGGG!! I SAW DAT FIRST, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! YOU-oh, hey, that hooman has another one!?"
    That's how I imagine it anyway.

    Well let's start off with today, and I'll backtrack into my sea of awesome, like a backstroke, to the good parts.
    Start with the bad, go to the good. So we leave on a good note, and not the bad. It's opposite day.
    Just go with it.

    So I get up sort of late today, not like super late but enough for me to actually put some pants on instead of wandering around in my boxers for half an hour.
    I get up, get dressed, not even attempt to do something with my hair. It's going in a hat anyway, who cares? Not this guy.
    So I get my shizz (backpack full of notebooks I know I'll have no time for but I bring them anyway) and throw on my boots, and head out to my already-breaking Jeep. I call it my Heep. Heepa-jeep.
    It's official name is Demon. Cuz its red. And reasons.
    ANYWAY. Jump in, start it up, and the usual check engine light is on. I dont panic. There is no panicing involved since it's been on for about a month now, because I have a hole in my Kat that needs to be welded plus the fact that my muffler is rusted out which matters NOT because my whole damn exhaust system is basically unattached.
    Poor person problems.
    Anyway, I'm driving along with my radio blasting as usual and DIIIING.
    Not like a little "hey, hows it goin, check this out" sort of noise but more like a "HEY!!! DUDE!!! DUDE!! YOU SEEING THIS!? ARE YOU F***ING SEEING THIS!?"
    To which I reply "Ah, crap."
    My EBS or Electronic Braking System, as decided it needs attention. It wants service.
    To which I reply "Too damn bad, bish, I'm going to work!"
    So I ignore it.
    Then I look down, and notice my car is overheating.
    Oh, fun. Blast the heater, roll down the windows, and enjoy the 50F weather with my heat on. No problem. Okay, so since I'm ignoring it so far, my jeep decides to amp up the annoyance.
    "Oh, I'm an automatic? Haha, funny. YOU shift, I'm done."

    Yup. No shifting. Had to do it myself. THEN, THEN (Nope, not done yet) I stop somewhere to let it cool and give me a break, and it decides "I dont want to keep going! You're on your own, buddy!"
    and doesnt want to start. My reply, naturally was "YOU HEAP! DO IIIIIIIIT."
    And it did it. Because I'm a human. And I think I'm the boss. But dont tell me I'm not even though it's obvious that my car rules my life. Damn it......

    Basically to fix all the shinanigans (which decided to magically disappear once I told my boyfriend who traded vehicles for the night so he could work on the jeep. Thanks Demon) it's gonna cost me about 200 monkey moolahs which we all know is like 2000 real money.
    Thanks. Thats....wonderful. Thank you, I needed that boot in the butt.

    BUT, YOU WAITED. YOU READ. YOU LISTENED. You may or may not have been sympathetic, and if you were I thank you, if you werent then get lost;
    But here's the good news.
    You ready? Yeah? Nope, gonna stall.
    So I went to see my doc, and we talked about the cutting thing and the medications (which she decided to change to a different brand, Zololf, which I so far love) and all that blahness. And I explained to her that my back is still in pain from my obviously huge bust.
    I have to sleep upright, I cannot lay on my back or stomach because it hinders my breathing, and to my absolute horror; I went up a bra size. Yay me.
    So she said she would talk to someone and not to worry about it.
    So I get a call about a referral. No big deal, we'd been talking about getting me a new therapist anyway.
    Call them back....."I'm sorry but I'm just not seeing a referral to here....Are you sure it were for a therapist?" they ask me. To which I reply "I have no freaking clue. You called me, I'm calling you, it's a party."
    So they search around and ask a few departments (huge hospital, lots of chaos) and then she goes "Oh, you've called the wrong department". I'm assuming maybe financial aid, the padded rooms, maybe a straight jacket factory......nope. Better.
    And there's not much better than a soft, comfy, private padded room.
    "You're looking for the Plastic Surgeon. This referral is to Doctor Shin, the plastic surgeon."
    Oh. My. God.
    No.
    Nope, I need pinches. Someone pinch me.
    So naturally I bawl like a bitc*.
    They transfer me, we talk, and yup. You got it.

    My Official First Consultation with a Plastic Surgeon concerning FTM Transgender Top Surgery is coming to my nearest hospital on May 6th of this year.
    IT'S ON, LADIES AND GENTS.
    OHHHHH IT. IS. ON.
    No words.
    I'm done.
    I dont think I need to explain for you to understand my emotions.
    I think I'm gonna go die now.
    In a good way.

    TOOTLES!
    Oh and I love you all.
    Just as a footnote.
    LATERS,
    Warren
  8. WarrenG
    Hey Ladies and Gents and Robotics of the future who are posing as the usual nerds who actually know the key to the universe but are keeping it secret to watch us make fools of ourselves.
    You know, because they're absolute asses.
    And face it, we can be rather amusing to watch trip over our own feet sometimes.
    Come on people, admit it. You laugh when others run into glass doors.
    We're hilarious.

    ANYWAY, enough about the stupidity of the human race (which would be solved by removing warning labels, by the way. The universe would sort itself out eventually, to be honest. Removes the morons from the people who actually gained common sense at birth.
    You know, because that’s what normal people have. Common sense…
    Though sadly I have a feeling that the general population of today’s youth would perish. Sad, but nessesary.
    But, once again, I’ve trailed off my train of thought because as some of you know, the rails to my train of thought are as twisted and mangled up as old spegetti you found in your fridge from last Sunday’s dinner.
    SO, back on topic.
    Where was I? Oh yeah. Life.
    Well, life still sorta sucks a little bit. But, what else is new, right?
    I went to the doctors office for my usual “lets see if you’re still functioning” visit, and I’ll admit, it could have gone better.
    I unfortunately have fallen back into a full swing of my “self harm” issues, and I dare say they’re a little more consistant and addictive as the last phases of it.
    So I admitted to my doctor about whats going on, and yes, I had had a few thoughts that I’m not so proud of.
    I felt it only beneficial to let her know what were going on through an honest standpoint, and that my antidepressants were as effective to me as water is to a heart attack.
    Naturally, she were concerned, and we discussed weening me off from my Lexapro and onto another medication, Zoloft. We’ll see how that goes, but my hopes are….well, hopeful.
    Another topic we discussed is my back pain.
    She had been aware of it for some time, and had previously suggested pain killers such as ibuprofen or Tylenol, which I advised her that was unhelpful, and she was nice enough to not question it.

    She asked me where it hurt (which is right between my shoulders most days) and as I moved my arm up to point to the area, low and behold, my shoulder popped. Not uncommon for me, it’s been an issue since I were a very young teen.
    Alarmed, she investigated, and her theory is that the weight that my bra straps had put on my shoulders as a young adult has damaged the way my shoulders matured, which makes them pop a lot. Possible, and completely believable.
    When I broke down into tears about not being able to afford my top surgery and how bad my back was killing me, she decided that she would do even further investigating and be more aggressive with trying to find a way to turn my top surgery into a medical nessesity.
    Thank Frogging Gerd. (I was asked by a catholic coworker to try and avoid saying the f-bomb or ‘God’, and I’m up for a challenge. Does that One time of saying God count? Crap, is that two? Damn it.)

    So in one aspect, I MIGHT be closer to top surgery. No promises, and I’m not fool enough to think that my problems are solved, but I’m not hopeless enough to assume it wont work.
    I have previous damage to my spine for falling off a cliff, damage to my ribs and previous damage to my shoulders from them popping out of place from lack of cartilage. Getting rid of some of my top-heavy problems will be beneficial not just to my mental state, but certainly from a medical standpoint to my health.
    I don’t want to be eighty years old and unable to stand upright because of years of back problems.
    On another note, I received a package today.

    EmmaSweet, this shoutout is for you, babydoll
    Love, Love, LOVE the book you sent me!
    Wonderful pictures, wonderful stories, very inspiring!!
    For those who are curious, it was the book called “Transfigurations” by Jana Marcus, and it is phenomenal!
    Thank you a million times over

    Well, I think that just about wraps up this session of rambling and bologna. Impressed that I spelled that right? Yeah, me too.
    LATER LADIES AND GENTS,
    And a special wink to the nerds. Just cuz’ we fam, yo!
    Warren AKA “RenRen”
  9. WarrenG
    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
  10. WarrenG
    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
  11. WarrenG

    A sigh, a Deep breath

    By WarrenG,

    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
  12. WarrenG

    MISSION SUCCESSFUL!!!

    By WarrenG,

    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
  13. WarrenG
    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
  14. WarrenG
    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
  15. WarrenG
    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.
  16. WarrenG

    Encouragement Moment

    By WarrenG,

    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
  17. WarrenG

    Frustrated but hopeful

    By WarrenG,

    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
  18. WarrenG
    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
  19. WarrenG
    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
  20. WarrenG
    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 >.<
  21. WarrenG

    I'm Still Here

    By WarrenG,

    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

  22. WarrenG

    To all My TGG Friends

    By WarrenG,

    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
  23. WarrenG
    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
  24. WarrenG

    It's been a while

    By WarrenG,

    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.
  25. WarrenG
    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
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