Jump to content
Transgender Message Forum

WarrenG

Members
 View Profile  See their activity

  • Posts

    265

  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    8

 Content Type 

Blog Entries posted by WarrenG

  1. 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”
  3. WarrenG
    So, I went north (3 hr drive) and got my little sister for a week with me. So far it had been great!
    I finally got her to eat (shed been basically starving herself) and she's been eating randomly the whole time, which is awesome. (She's 16). She's kept up her end of the deal and hasnt done any self harm, and neither have I. We've both behaved.
    I've been spoiling her rotten, and I love it Bought her a new necklace which she hasnt taken off since we bought it, new earrings since none of her other ones match anymore, and did what she'd always wanted and took her to a salon to get her hair cut. She loves it! We also went and bought some hair dye and dyed our hair (one bottle was enough for both of us to do the same color XD).
    We look so alive now LOL
    But the day was full of surprises. We were at a store, and I moved aside for a man. And in return, he said "Excuse me, sir" which caught both me and my sister offguard. And I loved it!
    Later that day, we were wandering another store and someone asked me "Can I get you anything, sir?" again. Loved it.
    This happened about four times, and I was so excited!!
    Well after a day full of shopping and whatnot with her, we headed home. It was all good, she was really happy, and she headed to bed.
    So I went to my room, and that's when it crashed.

    I cuddled with my boyfriend for a little while, we hung out and whatnot, and then he hit me with an acid bomb to the heart.
    "Can you do me a favor?" he asked me. I said "sure" and thought not much of it. Then his response was "Can you wear more dress up shirts? Like when we go out somewhere its fine, you can wear your normal stuff. But otherwise..."
    He wants me..to dress like a girl again.
    I'm not going to lie...it hurt. It was like being stabbed in the chest with a rusty dagger someone found in the mud. I tried to ignore it, and I tried to keep calm about it. But when he was trying to be affectionate and whatnot and my "blahness" was part of the attention, I couldnt take it anymore.
    I hate them. More than I've hated anything.
    So I got upset, he got upset, I bawled and left.
    Why is it that no matter how much he says he understands and any progress we make on it...he still somehow reverts back to wanting me to do something girly. To wear certain things or do certain things or act a certain way....It hurts.
    I dont know how much I can deal with.
    -Warren
  4. WarrenG
    It's been an extremely long time...but yeah, I'm still here. Nothing much has changed and I lost the ambition to blog because it was an endless parade of the same thing every day. It felt like a waste of time to keep repeating myself. Not sure why I'm here again, but I think maybe on the rare chance that anyone was wondering where I went or, by chance, was worried; I wanted to let everyone know that I'm alright.
    Whats New: Just over a year at my job in Security, and nothing has changed too drastically. We had a conflict during my shift between a civilian and a staff member and I clicked back into my pre-training when I wanted to be a State Trooper and handled the situation the only way I knew how. I got in the middle of it. I was able to defuse the situation safely and separate the two individuals, writing a detailed report on time, location, involved parties and descriptions of the would-be assailant. I didnt think anything of it. It's my job, it's what I do.
    Well, apparently the higher-ups of the company I work for didnt think it was just "what you do". They called a meeting, held a conference, and low and behold...I was upgraded. I'm now full-time, with benefits (soon, not yet. Paperwork is awaiting) and I was given huge praise from both the Town Police Officers and the Academy I work for. Not only that, but the situation forced them to realize that we, as Security, are vastly ill-equipped for our jobs and finally have decided to listen to our needs and provide us with new supplies. A newer, larger vehicle that we can safely transport clients and students in (we are using a little P.O.S. hand-me-down Ford Ranger right now which is horribly cramped all the time and I hate driving it.). I'm still in work-mode so my typing is kinda professional still  Anyway, we're each getting water-proof, theft-proof, USB charging Dock equipped backpacks that will have flashlights, mace, first aid, notebook&pen, a security monitoring computer and etc. We're also all getting new uniforms and much-needed spotlights and gear that we SHOULD have had months ago. It took my situation with an aggressive individual for them to realize "hey, these guys COULD get hurt while protecting these kids...we should gear them up." FINALLY.
    So that's work.
    (Plus I was at the Post office today ((with my security jacket on....because it's basically the only winter coat I own.)) and one of the postal workers stopped me and said his son goes to our Academy and asked about a drug raid he'd heard about. I explained that one particular student who will remain nameless had supposedly had prescription painkillers in his possession that were not his, and we confiscated them. I assured him that we do frequent and random sweeps of dorm rooms and dorm buildings for anything they should not have, and he seemed happy with that. The last part that got me was just before he walked away, he said "Thank you for protecting our kids. You guys do a great job." Finally....recognition.)
     
    YOUTUBE: Yes, I am still recording YouTube videos! I am HORRIBLY behind on posting them, unfortunately, but life's been a bit hectic atm. 
    (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8FWRfZBHaU46LzyhAJoL7A)
    FACEBOOK: I now have TWO pages up on facebook for my Youtube channel so you can stay up to date. One page is specifically for my channel videos, while the other is dedicated to my craft hobby (which just started so its very very slow) where I am selling crafts that 100% go towards my top surgery.
    (Facebook.com/dubstepheartbeatYoutube & Facebook.com/dubstepheartbeatCreations)
    TOP SURGERY:
    Oi vey....where to start....So I still havent had my surgery, obviously since I have my creations page to pay for said surgery....I have been fighting continuously with Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield on getting them to pay for my surgery, even if just a portion. They refuse. The reason is this: My LEGAL gender is MALE. My Birth certificate says FEMALE. I cannot change that without GRS which I will not do. Anyway...My ID says Male on it. So when they filed for my surgery, they initially filed it under FEMALE BREAST REDUCTION. Well, since my ID says Male on it, they cannot do that. Because I am legally male. So it would go under Gynocomastia, which I do not have. Which..frankly doesnt matter because they dont cover it anyway.
    I've spent a minimum of 4 hours on the phone every time I call, explaining over and over and OVER again that I am Transgender, I am legally male but physically female, and that this is a breast reduction not because I'm transgender but because of spinal damage, pain, interferance with work, and a damaged trapezius muscle. All of which has been noted by my doctor FOUR TIMES, including all the necessary paperwork (and more...) sent to them REPEATEDLY. They either claim that A: they never got the paperwork, B:It lacked a piece of info they wanted, C: They have it and are reviewing it OR......D: They cant find my account at all. I spent TWO HOURS on hold just for them to tell me that the line I HAD BEEN TRANSFERRED TO...doesnt handle what I'm looking for so they transferred me BACK to the people I ORIGINALLY WERE TALKING TO. Absolute, complete, utter flipping NIGHTMARE!!!
    With my anxiety & Depression issues, it came to the point where I would completely avoid calling them because it would completely destroy me for days afterwards. I've had people offer to help with with the call or figure things out, but either they offered once and never followed through or they simply werent understanding that everything they wanted to try...I've already done it. No one....GOT what I was trying to say. It started to feel like no one cared anymore either.
    I called GLADD FIVE TIMES. I only ever got ONE response, which was "we'll call you as soon as we have more info for you.". That was months ago....nothing.
    I called the State of New Hampshire's Offices for Insurance to figure out what to do. "We'll call you back." They never did. Not only did they not return my calls, but every time I called them back and demanded to talk to someone, they'd just keep saying "Ma'am, someone will call you." Misgendered AND ignored. Thanks for that.
    I called SIX...ADVOCATES...FOR TRANSGENDER PEOPLE IN MY STATE. Again, either they didnt know how to help, didnt call me back, or simply said "keep trying". For someone with severe Anxiety, the phrase "just keep trying" is like saying "Haha, well that sucks."
    I cant keep trying. It causes me such dysphoria, severe depression, anxiety and physical illness that I have to call out of work, take days to recooperate and fight of the HORRIBLE sensation of the NEEEEEEEEEED to self harm. I'd been able to stay sober of it thus far, except for one episode involving a fight with my homophobic, trump loving, transphobic, Democratic-hating sister&mother-in-laws...(Long story short, I had just worked 14 hours, was tired and exhausted; and was accused of abusing her animals. Not by the mother, but by the sister-in-law. Who is basically the princess of the castle. I lost it.) So the insurance company locked me out of my online account conveniently a week before my due date to switch insurances, so I couldnt even access my account to change insurance companies before the due date ran out and....low and behold...I was renewed with Anthem BCBS for another year. I dont have enough swear words and foul language names to throw at them to express how I feel...
    I also, by the way, emailed Anthem personally either through Twitter's Anthem Help page or their main help page, which ran in circles up to the point of them calling and leaving a message ON THE ONE PHONE I SPECIFICALLY ASKED THEM NOT TO CALL BECAUSE I WONT GET THE DAMN MESSAGE, then when I called them back, I got nothing. Just an answering machine. FOR THREE WEEKS.
    When I mentioned this to them, they shrugged it off. Yeah.....F You too.
    (BEFORE YOU OFFER TO HELP ME WITH THE INSURANCE THING:::::::No, I do not need the help right now. Thank you for thinking of me anyway. But with my job title changing, I'm getting new insurance and there is absolutely no reason I can think of to try and pursue Anthem BCBS's jerkoffs when I'm leaving them really soon. Thanks anyway.)
     
    So, anyway....thats life right now. As you can see, not much has changed. New promotion and same insurance b.s.
    Oh, and apparently I have dissociation with my chest. Which doesnt surprise me. I found out because I was in the shower, washing like I usually do with my eyes squeezed shut and my heart breaking at the sensation of having to wash those stupid boulders on my REAL chest underneath, and....what's this? I look down and I apparently had a pimple or something that had developed on the underside of my left breast, but had gone unattended to for god-knows-how-long, so it festered and became raw and infected. Did I notice? No....I didnt even feel it. I've always had next to no feeling or sensation in my chest since I was cursed with them, but I didnt think much of it. This made me really realize...I have no feeling in them whatsoever. So I experimented. I ran my hands along the sides, fronts, top and bottom....but nothing. If it werent for feeling it through my fingertips, I wouldnt feel it at all. Absolutely nothing. It's like...I feel the pressure of my hands but that's it. Not a tickle or a whisp of sensation. I have completely, entirely, absolutely dissociated with my chest so much that I no longer feel it. It's no longer 'mine'. Its just...there. That's what kills me even more.
    Theyre there, theyre attached to me...but if I dont even have feeling in them, they feel even more alien to me. I'm not supposed to even have them and this just proves it even more. It didnt hit me as hard as it did at the doctors when I casually mentioned it and she was confused. Apparently ciswomen are SUPPOSED to have feeling in them. Like...everywhere.
    It's weird. It's like a feeling of abandonment. That I've hated them so much and for so long that theyve finally given up and just died, but I still gotta carry the corpses around. Now, more than ever, I just want them gone...It's almost too much to stomach. I choke up thinking about it. I feel like a part of me has just died, staring me in the face and flipping me the bird before being just completely gone. But instead of leaving, it lingers in the doorway and stares me down, laughing at me and mocking me because they wont go away.
    It sound stupid but I feel like theyre taunting me. Like "We know you dont want us, so we're gonna take away any sensation of being here, except you'll still have to carry our dead weight. You cant get rid of us, you will still have a huge lump in your shirt and we will NEVER allow you to touch your real chest underneath. You hate us, and we hate you. So live with it."
    I even opted out of my nipple grafts so that the surgery would be cheaper. Not just for a cheaper price, but because I've always had issues with those parts anyway so there's no point in hoping they'll heal and stay where they put them when a huge part of me knows they wont. They dont heal well, never have. I get pockets in them where sweat and crap lingers and I have to clean the areas like pimples. I dont want them anymore. I dont want anything to do with any of them.
     
    But I still have to bind them.
    I still have to readjust them in my binder.
    I still have to wash them.
    I still have to toss and turn to find a comfortable position between suffocation, smothering, pinches or unending sweat.
    I still have to put lotion on the extremely dry and chapped skin from binding.
    I still have to carry them around on my aching shoulders.
    I still have to nearly suffocate with them just to tie my shoes.
    I still have to feel them jerk and yank on my sore back when I try to use a treadmill.
    I still have to make sure there's no sores because they dont bother to tell me when something hurts anymore.
    I still have to try and save up 8000$ to get rid of them because insurance doesnt give a flip.
    I still have them.
    And they taunt me.
    My relentless bully...is my own body.
     
    Warren
  5. WarrenG

    Milestones

    By WarrenG,

    Milestones are fun lol 
    So yesterday was a rare awesome day. First started off with me waking up to the LEGAL NATIONWIDE GAY MARRIAGE!!!!
    Omagerd I was so happy!!! Originally I was like "it doesnt include me, but I'm excited anyway!" until I realized it DOES include me. If/When I change my Gender to male, if I ever want to marry a man, that includes me!!  After that I got a call about my broken down jeep, so I went to investigate. After a week of searching for solutions, they realized its two cheap parts and they can do it in an hour. So, it's there waiting for me and I'm so happy I didnt have a blown transmission!! I got more ingredients for my smoothie-kicks lol (NO KALE!!! ew.....) and was pretty happy about that. Got home to three letters. Two from the state insurance (I think I got accepted, but dont understand the papers. I left a message for my agent at the hospital who will help me figure it out lol) which would include gender therapy in the future  I also FINALLY got copies of my file from my ex-therapist Joan, with a paper I'd requested acknowledging her awareness and working through with me about the transgender issues for a while. The woman sucks at writing them, obviously having never done them before. It literally says 
    "I worked with Kristy/Warren since _______ regarding her transgender issues. We no long are in therapy sessions due to her financial difficulties."
    Wow, that kinda blows lol but thanks?
    SO all in all it werent a bad day  Today.....today I hit another milestone of being a man
    SHAVING.
    I've always had to shave my mustache, ever since I were about 14. My upper lip, and pluck some black hair from under or around my chin. It's always been there, and I've always had to manage it. (Further proof I'm not supposed to be a woman? 0.o) but today...Today I looked in the mirror and noticed my face had new friends. Last night I had to trim my sideburns and around my ears since I'm growing my hair out a little bit. But all along my jawline and underneath I have blonde hairs. Peachfuzz I guess. But theyre long o.o Like....REALLY long. I pulled one off my shoulder that was almost two inches long!!! So....I shaved. So exciting and so small but damn if it didnt feel right!
    Aftershave smells so good, I'll admit. It's just a tiny thing and to some people it might seem silly, but to me....It's like someone handed me a free softserve icecream cone.
    So, yeah. That's my day so far  Well, yesterday lol. OH and my sister DID call to invite me to my niece's fake-birthday party. Ironically she planned it for a day that I have a docs appointment so I had a legit excuse. Foiled her dastardly plans!!!
     
    BACK TO MY BUFFALO CALZONE!!
    Warren
  6. 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
  7. 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)
    .
     
  8. WarrenG

    My outlets

    By WarrenG,

    I went to see my doctor again today, simply for a check in or a check up on my medications and what not.
    Normally I'm very nervous about seeing the doctor. I had a lot of health issues I were dealing with and always worried about 'getting in trouble' with my doctor. Granted, I love her to pieces, and she cares more than any other doctor I have EVER had. But in the same aspect, shes not afraid to tell me how it is, and boot me in the butt for not taking care of myself.
    When I finally told her about the self harm, she were not only concerned, but angry with me for not telling her to begin with. She gave me plenty of ideas of helping myself, and sent me off with a parting threat. "If you dont realize how special you are and nip this problem in the butt, I'll find you even more help than what I can give you, and you will not like it. I promise."
    I knew what the 'more help' was. I'd heard about it plenty enough. Mental Help Ward at the hospital.
    NO. THANK. YOU.
    ANYWAY.....after being lectured about weight and this and that..I was really nervous to go back to the doctors today. I'd been working really hard at behaving and eating right and whatnot, and this monday (10/20/14) will be my THIRD WEEK of no self harm. Which, for anyone who's struggled with it, knows thats a HUGE deal for me.
    I took the steps to protect myself and even handed over my instruments, and informed two people of where I were getting these items...so they could remove them for good. It was hard, but I'm glad I did. Because in a desperate need for relief, I went looking for where I get my normal tools. And found nothing but air. So I were forced to cope. And as horrible as it was that day, I'm glad for it.

    To find another way to deal with my growing anxiety and gutwrenching depression, I turned to my skills, as my doctor instructed. Drawing, music, and writing.
    I have started to RP (roleplay, in form of book writing paragraph by paragraph with another participant. In this case, my good friend Destinee who has been nothing but awesome and caring) on my ipod during work to distract me from the stressful reminder that I'm surrounded by hundreds of people all day. (I work at a college dining hall as a chef) And though I'm not supposed to be on my ipod, everyone assumes I'm just changing music, or know I do it for my anxiety, and no one has told me not to. Yet. Here's hoping they wont.
    When I cant RP, or when I'm not in the mood, I draw. I have a designated book which I have dubbed "My Blade Book".

    On the back, I have written my favorite quotes in marker. I'll share them with you
    "To Thine Own Self be True" by shakespeare
    "Without struggle, there is no progess" by Fredrick Douglas
    "The Good die young, but the greatest survive" by My Chemical Romance
    "We've come a long way since that day, and we'll never look back at the faded silhouettes" Avicii
    "One final fight for this tonight" Black Veil Brides
    "Yes, sir. I'm one of a Kind" G-Dragon
    "It's my party, I'll do what I want. So while you sit and watch me, I'll keep dancing" Jessie J
    "Dont lose who you are in the blur of the stars. Seeing is decieving, dreaming is believing. ITS OK NOT TO BE OK. Just be true to who you are" Jessie J

    On the inside covers I have (Front) Blade Free Book. Draw, dont scar. F*** the world, live for you. The good die young but the greatest survive the stereotype. Dont just be "Another boy without a sharper knife"
    (Back) "Sometimes its hard to follow your heart. Tears dont mean you're losing, everybody's bruising. Just be true to who you are. Theres nothing wrong with who you are" by Jessie J, my favorite artist.
    I draw whatever comes to mind, be it angry faces or just something to calm me. And honestly.....it helps. A LOT.
    ANYONE going through what I have been, should consider this. Find a book, any old book. Write your name on it. Cover it in quotes that inspire and soothe you, and just put what you feel in it. Use it as your own personal outlet. And if you feel brave enough, share it with someone. It helps me a lot.

    Aside from my Blade Book, I blog. Why? Because it helps.
    I have a physical social anxiety disorder. To put it simply, I cant deal with talking to people.
    Face to face, in physical contact, I just cant handle it. I get frustrated, flustered, uneasy, anxious...you name it. On here....I feel so blessed, I must say.
    I can blog and vent and talk about my whole transgender journey...and not be judged. I dont have to spend all night deleting harmful and negative comments, and it is sooooooo so soothing to know that I dont have to worry about who is reading my blogs. Because even though to me this is more like a diary, I can take comfort in the fact that I'm not keeping it to myself. I'm sharing, and maybe....MAYBE even helping someone else like me, who is reading it and realizing...they're not alone. That someone out there is going through things JUST like them.
    I love the fact that I can talk about anything on here without editing out some parts so I dont offend someone, because I know everyone on here who reads this is nothing but supportive and caring and trusting. I cannot possibly express how appreciated it is.

    But, I got severely side tracked, as always. THE DOCTOR VISIT!
    So, the outcome: I have lost 15 pounds since my last visit (which my doctor was over the top excited about ) and I have no new self harm wounds (which she also got super excited about lol) and I told her about all the different things I've been doing as outlets instead. The writing and drawing and whatnot. Also the tattoo idea was supported greatly, her words being "Out of Sight, Out of Mind. You dont see it (scars), you wont think about it. Plus with something beautiful there, you wont want to wreck it!" Which I agreed with 100000%. Though its waiting till the end of november because its sort of expensive. She urged me to try and lose another 15pnds by the end of janurary (GAME ON! Right...after....this bowl of icecream. HEY I DESERVE IT DARN IT!) And to keep up my hard work of resistance. Hell. Yes.
    First time I've left the doctors with a smile on my face
    Alrighty world, I'm done ranting and raving.
    Even my crappy night at work couldnt push away my happiness of a silly doctors visit.
    I'm on a roll, darn it!
    -Warren
  9. WarrenG
    So, I need a little advice. But first I want to apologize if I annoy you guys or have fallen away from my "help others" phase and just been stuck in my "fml" stage. I dont mean to
    Anyway, this is about my boyfriends mother. We live with her and her family, none of which really support me or go along with my name change or anything because its my way of "attention seeking" apparently. But her constantly calling me Kristy and lately, lady, miss, girl, chick, all of which you can tell she is doing simply to upset me, is really starting to upset me. It's getting worse, and it totally messes with my dysphoria and depression and self harm. Which, apparently, is also for attention. According to her. She's even gone as far as to tell my neighbor while talking to her to NOT call me Warren because it is NOT my name and not to "feed into her need for drama".
    I guess my question is....this has gone on for about 6 months? Should I just put my foot down and damn the consequences and flat out tell her MY NAME IS NOT KRISTY and tell her I'll ignore what she says unless she calls me ren or warren? Or should I just ignore it...? If she wants to throw me out, I wont be homeless. My neighbor already told me her house is there if it ever came down to it, and I'll always have a place to stay. But I'm just so......SO F***ING sick of being dragged back into my feminine name and past by her.
    Tonight I went out and heard a bunch of dishes slamming around, so i went and asked whats up and she said "apparently no one can f***ing do anything except me". I'm like ....what? she snapped "no one's let the f***ing dogs out since i left for work" and i told her i let them out when i got up, and she ignored me. Then she went on to say nothing else got done and i told her 'well...i did the dishwasher..." and she gave me an attitude like "that's it?" More than her precious Princess daughter does.
    I'm just severely frustrated and dont know what to do about this....I dont want to make the wrong move...
     
    On another hand, tomorrow I have an interview for a Security Personnel position I REALLY REALLY want so wish me luck.
    Warren
  10. WarrenG
    I never thought I would be here...at this impass of live. That moment when the fairy tales seem to take life and not in their usual good manner. The moment when a step-parent becomes the wicked witch or that menacing warlock. I never thought I'd be a part of it...
     
    Joey is his name. On first impression, I knew I didnt like him. His eyes told of selfishness and laziness. His posture spoke of sexism and over-tried alpha tendancies. His breath rank of an unrecognizable stench that turned my stomach, and his lack of manners towards the opposite sex was appaulling. He's a pig...but even pigs are better suited.
    The first moment I laid eyes on him, I had driven into the driveway to visit my family. I'd missed the wedding, so this was the first in which we'd laid eyes on eachother. I was not greeted, and I was not acknowledged. He simply looked up at my vehicle, seemed to sigh with annoyance, and wandered off to whatever he was doing. A simple 'hows it goin?' and 'not too bad' was exchanged as I approached the house, and that was it. He followed me in like an executioner to his post. It were not until my mother introduced us that he actually seemed to look at me. None too pleasantly, might I add. I was introduced as her daughter, her Kristy....I corrected that I were her son, Warren, and attempted to shake his hand. I got a hug instead, and it were not willing. I were not permitted a handshake it seemed. When I voiced that hugging strangers made me uncomfortable, he said 'you'll have to get used to it. I married your mother'.
    His eyes is what told his story. The eyes are often called the windows to the soul and he does not have a glamorous or spectacular soul by any means. In fact, I would hardly even shutter if the dear Hannibal Lector happened upon him and asked to dine on his overbloated, beer infested cadaver. I would, I do believe, incline to his request and simply wave in acceptance while I watch him carry him away. He's not a bad man, perhaps. Just a bad egg...
    He brings out a side of me that I have kept submerged for years. The Dominance side of me that sometimes concerns me and terrifies my soul, but I were often informed that it were another personality of myself. A more formal, gruesome side of my personality. I often thought of him as perhaps an imaginary friend, taunting me when I were too weak to stand up for myself. His name changed now and again...First it was Ben. Then Alex. Then one instance, he even called himself Dorian. I'm not sure what he calls himself now, but I can feel him reaching the surface once more. This....Joey....brings him back from the darkness in which he once slumbered. Even now, as I'm typing, I can feel his influence. Even in the way I write things, I feel that there is a shift in personality. A sinister switch...It began long ago, as most stories do, with my childhood. The childhood in which blood and gore were of no stranger to me. Slaughtering animals and lifestock for food, a odd fascination with their pieces being seperated so that we may dine on their once-lively muscle tissue. My...'brother', I guess you could call him, evolved through the years. Becoming more aware, more violent, but more able to mask himself in my own personality. "Influence, my dear.....the whole world runs upon influence. It is the only way that the good may triumph whilest the bad secretly are the marionettes to the puppets. You, dear boy, will thrive off my influence. I'll guide and protect you. And when the time comes, you will take the bench, and I shall orchestrate." I remember the words perfectly. At the time I thought it were simply my imagination running wild. But in the years to follow, I've learned that it were actually he himself. My brother..my other soul..the drum in my ears when things got too chaotic. The force behind my fists and the growl within my screams.
    Joey....that aweful lump of a man...he has brought my brother the life that he had once had in my teenage years, while catering to my vampiric Dom side by night. In secret, fleeing to the only family who accepted me. A clan of outcasts, vampire enthusiastics. I had quickly become one of them. I became a Dom as easily as one would crack an egg. Maybe a few pieces fell when the shell broke free, but the yolk took over these pieces as if they were nothing. Moving them out of the way as it pleased. I felt free...HE felt free. But I left the coven and decided to 'grow up' when mother moved us away. He has been silent since, perhaps worn out over his profound freedom. But this horrible....stepfather of mine...has brought him back. I almost worry about his intentions.
     
    He dislikes me. That much is clear. Joey, that is. Alex, as I will call him until he reveals his true name, adores me. We're one, afterall. But Joey....dear pathetic Joey...he makes my stomach cramp with disgust. He annoys me with his very presence. He treats my siblings like butlers or cattle, pushing them around and bending them to do his will but with no more of a reward than the common dog. Perhaps a scrap of affection, maybe he will throw old bones to them, but in the end--to him, theyre still just dogs. His real prize is my mother, who I fear is growing more and more sour with every passing day of their newfound marriage. It sickens me...I never had a good childhood, that much is clear as day. But watching my siblings relive some of the horrors that I learned to push through makes me furious. He treats them like dust, glaring at them until the day he can wipe them away. Joey did not marry my family, he married my mother. And only my mother. He's just waiting for the day when he can push his influence into my poor, naive little autistic brother's head to gain him over to his side. To mold him into himself, as no man has ever held the bond of fatherhood over him as he now can. The rest will move out, he is sure. Or, by all means, he will push them out. And so far is succeeding. What drives me mad the most is my mother's blindness. Her own bitterness and sour disposition seems to surface with his presence as well, though she hardly notices. She's more cruel and unforgiving to my siblings as she had been before. She will boast on her facebook about her perfect family, and how wonderful everything is and how much her sweet children adore her new loving husband. But as I once heard someone say---The beautiful portrait that you display on your wall....it hides the most hideous stain in the wallpaper.
    I wish to be rid of him....My little brother, as he now wishes me to call him, is coming into his own. Not the autistic one, Jordan. But my---dare I say it----favorite sibling. Kai, my dear Kai...What I would give just to see his happiness...He's been so tormented in this world, and by family the most. He is like me, and perhaps that is why I adore him so much and wish for his happiness. It's a happiness I was rarely granted. At first I were jealous of the attention he recieved for being transgender. The affections he were granted that I were denied. The opportunities my mother has given him that I still am shunned for. But now I see it....my inner brother has reminded me of it several times when I become jealous.
    "Kai is living the life that you had always dreamt of. Though it may be cruel.....help them achieve it. Help them become the young man that you missed out on being. You get to flourish as a man, but they get to blossom as a boy. Help him, and perhaps you'll even discover yourself."
    There's a bittersweet truth in it. And as much as I fear any advice from Alex, I think he may be onto something. Parents mold their children to live the lives they always wanted. Perhaps, in a way, if the child is willing and as wanting as yourself---is it really so bad? Perhaps not, if the situation calls for it.
     
    But one thing is certain.
    Joey needs to go.
     
    -Warren.......and Alex.
    Note: Perhaps my therapist was right. Perhaps DID isnt so impossible of a diagnosis....but he's not a disease. I'm starting to enjoy his company.
  11. WarrenG

    No, I'm not Dead

    By WarrenG,

    Good afternoon/morning/evening/Saturday? TGG friends,
    Yes, It's me again. No I havent died and no, nothing super dramatic has happened. I've just taken a lot of time to sort myself out and try and get my head straight.
    You'll be glad to know that I have been 'clean' or 'sober' of self harm for several weeks, and I am so far really loving my job. So far, I have not had a single day of dreading a workday aside from merely just being exhausted, getting used to 3rd shift. But it's getting easier. Speaking of, this'll be short since I'm on my way back to sleep.
     
    I've decided to cease communication (temporarily, I think.....) with a dear friend/sister of mine I met a year ago due to added stress and frustration. Seemed like every single time we talked, we fought. And I really just couldnt deal with it anymore. I've gotten a bit better with the silence and feel slightly better, though not 100% yet. But at least it's something.
    On another note, the cutting. I forced myself to stay away from it in attempts to keep that section of my bicep clean of open wounds...because I was going to cut myself off from it for good. How you might ask? Well, the pictures will explain.
     
     
    "We are not defined by how hard we fall"
    It took about four hours to do the outlining, and I go back in a few weeks to do the shadowing and detail work. My dear cousin and awesome tattoo artist Tim in Montpilier VT did everything freehand for me to make sure it were unique and custom, and I thank him greatly for it. It were insanely painful to deal with at times, especially around the top of the shoulder and back of the armpit area. But with something like this to look at every time I want to cut into that area, I know it'll stop me. Why would I destroy something I worked so hard for? Something I went through so much pain to accomplish? It's the theory anyway, and I'm staking a lot on that theory.
    Besides, the bf will strangle me if I cut up this tattoo. By the time it's done, it would have costed me about 800$ including tip. Out of my surgery funds I've saved myself. 800$ is not 10,000$, which is what I need for my surgery. So why not use it for something that might help me? Hurts to use my hard saved money that was reserved for my surgery, but I dont see myself getting it any time soon.....if at all. But....yeah. So now you all know what I've been up to.
     
    All my thoughts with you,
    Warren
  12. WarrenG
    I'm not really sure if this is allowed or if I will be in trouble for this later, but I wanted to try. I havent many others to talk to right now, and I'm about to do a bit in my/our journal as well to let him know that this is being done. I know this may seem very strange to some of you, or all of you, but I feel as if I will go insane if I do not make my presence known to at least those within this site. Facebook is not a good place for me I believe. At least, most parts of Facebook. And I am not comfortable making my presence known to many within that site due to fear of rejection or possibly disbelief in my existence. I am not sure why this particular site seems more comfortable, but it is at the present time and I'm sure if needed....This blog post may be deleted at a later date if it is so desired.
    I believe that Ren has expressed his knowledge of myself although I do think that he has perhaps kept himself in denial to it, in fear of seeming a "freak". I assure him that this situation does not render him as such but of course, in this generation, appearance and mentality seems to be the root of reputation. I suppose this is a sort of experiment to see how my "coming out" will render in his life or if I should simply remain his ghost.
    But I wanted to introduce myself regardless, on the off chance that I happen to assist in his writing and the manner of speaking seeming rather odd for his personality. To at least clear up a little confusion as to his "style" of writing if and when it is occasionally altered. As he has become more and more aware of my existence, he has surprisingly been more willing to allow me participation in daily activities. So I expect to, hopefully, become more acquainted with this "family" within Transgender Guide.
     
    My name is Alexandru Dorian Vlk. I am twenty three years of age, male by all available descriptive purposes considering our outter shell, and yes; I am perfectly in agreeance to the status of being transgender. Although I do not personally identify as transgender myself as it is rightfully Warren's shell and not my own. I am merely a tenant. I am open to conversation and available to answer any questions, and I accept the pronouns of masculinity and the shortnames of all Alex, A, and A.V. Please do not believe me a figment of created imagination, as I do fully assure you otherwise,though your beliefs are of your own and I am not one to try and sway you from them. I am simply, as I previously stated, making myself known. I do greatly hope that this will not cause any unintended chaos or disruption, as it is not something in my wishes.
    If I am to contribute to this blog, if it is so allowed by Ren, then I will initial or sign with my own name at the beginning of paragraphs so that you may dissociate my thoughts and the such from Warren's. This is a bit new to myself as I am not normally allowed to front, but it is something that I intend to practice, if only in private if it is so desired. I want to brush up on my typing and writing skills, and perfect' my shorthand in due time.
     
    Matka vám žehnaj ,
    A.
  13. WarrenG
    I never thought of paperwork as a trigger. For anything really. Depression, anxiety, etc.
    But I came to realize it today.
    I woke up extra early and left to run some errands, knowing I had to build up some courage.
    I paid my bill (some of it at least) to the hospital, and stopped by the local pharmacy for a few things for my costume on friday, then I made one more stop. The councilling building, where I'll be going.
    After pulling into the driveway that I nearly passed by because I were nervous, I pulled in and instantly didnt want to leave the safety of my vehicle.
    "You're only picking up paperwork. It'll only take a second" I kept telling myself.
    It took several urges of courage for me to rip myself from my Jeep and stumble up to the doorway.
    I were instantly greeted at the front door by an overly twitchy man waiting for his doctor, and surprised to see that the waiting room was full with awaiting guests. One of which were mumbling rather violently at himself about breaking someone's face. I had to remind myself that this werent the normal doctors office and theres going to be some odd ducks here, but it didnt make me feel any better.
    "Am I damaged?" I thought to myself. "Am I here with the schitzophrenics and mentally insane because I too, am crazy?"
    It werent nice to label people I didnt even know, but with my nerves being on haywire...I jumped to conclusions about Mr. Twitch and Mr. Angry.
    I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
    After getting my paperwork, I fled like a chicken in a fox den, safe back in my car away from people.

    I thought "No biggy. Just fill out some info, write down my address and such...and I'll be done. No problem."
    Well, it werent that easy. Sure they asked my name, age, address and all the normal shinanigans, but it were ELEVEN PAGES (No kidding, and back to back pages! so like 22 pages of info!).
    I'm going to go through the paperwork that I had to do, little bits here and there, in case anyone is doing the same thing for the first time as well. I dont want you to be caught off guard!
    Dont be afraid to stop and think about your answers before putting them down!

    The first clue that this werent normal paperwork was it asked for my name, first last and middle. Easy.
    "Preferred name or nickname"
    No one has ever asked me that before....I've NEVER seen it on paper before....I had to actually stop and think. I were being given the choice? This never happens though....
    The next was the mindnumbing task of checking boxes of the concerns or symptoms I've had recently. I had seven
    Well, eight. They didnt have a box for the gender thing, so they had me add it in writing.
    They asked about stresses or life changes (For me, it would be the coming out to limited amount of people in my life about being transgendered, which has caused a lot of stress)
    Next they ask if you've seen a therapist in the past, and for how long, blah blah blah.
    (This is after two pages of insurance and contact information, the usual blargness)
    Then another surprise.
    List your family while growing up, but it goes with "Relationship, first names, and PERSONALITY/Mental health issues"
    My mother, withholding names here...Is somewhat controlling, manipulative, strict, and stubborn. But god knows I love her. I'd like to slap her sometimes, like.....really hard. But I still love her.
    We have a lot of history of not getting along.....

    Next was my father. Sadly my father passed away in an auto/tractor trailer accident when I were about nine, so I cant say full heartedly that I knew everything about my father. Other than he was the most remarkable man on the face of the earth. Outspoken until provoked, but sweet and caring...My real life prince charming.
    Then I have my older sister, a drama queen and attention hog. My brother, who became angry and violent after my father's death. Younger sister who is more like me than she realizes, outspoken, quiet, favored at a young age then seemed to be forgotten. Then my youngest brother, who is loud and frustrating and autistic, but I wouldnt change him for the world.

    They ask about your childhood and to check off a few boxes (were you happy, neglected, moved a lot, abused, no friends, abused sexually, popular, shy, depressed, things like that.)
    They'll ask for additional info of your childhood. For me, I always had to fight for the spotlight as a child. My older sister was daddy's first girl, so they always went out horseback riding. It was 'their time'. I understood that...But I liked horses too. My brother was my father's only son, so of course they went hunting....I liked hunting too. My baby sister was his baby and his little princess, being only about two at the time. So of course she got a lot of attention. I got whatever was left over.
    I remember only going hunting with my father once or twice. Horseback riding....never, that I remember. Most of the time I watched in depression and abandonment sensations as he played with my siblings. The black sheep only get to watch.
    By the time he were done, he were too tired, or couldnt think of what we could do together. My mom wasnt exactly the 'sit and play' with her kids type.

    Then they ask about who you live with now, and the same personality thing. I couldnt really think of much to say about the personalities of the people I live with now aside from anger issues, controlling, manipulating, drama fests. The usual human aspects, I've noticed. For some reason they asked if I lived in a house, dorm, apartment, etc. Not sure how that's relevant....
    Asked about marriages, failed marriages, etc. What you do for work, what you like to do for work, how often you work, what you like/dislike about your job, blah blah blah.
    Home life: Your hobbies, how often you talk to people outside of work, how many people you talk to about your feelings, are you satisfied with your romantic life, describe your romantic life, OI VEY.

    Then it goes on to HEALTH ISSUES. What accidents or illnesses have you suffered, what meds do you take, how many hours of sleep do you get, how often to you drink or take drugs, exercise, tobacco, physicals.
    Then one question stumped me.
    "List your personal strengths and important accomplishments"
    That's when it hit me...
    I couldnt think of any strengths. I've made no important accomplishments....what am I doing with my life? Am I literally just waking up, going to work, and calling it good? What greatness have I achieved? I felt pathetic. I had to leave it blank....I could think of nothing. I still cant.
    My romantic life is in shambles, I've done nothing to help or end it. My mental health is waving back and forth like a piece of string in a breeze, yet I've done nothing to tie it down.
    My physical health isnt the greatest, yet I continue to do things I shouldnt.
    I get told every single night "Put the heavy trashbags on a cart, dont put them on your shoulders"
    Yet I do it anyway, suffering sore back, lightheadedness, pulled muscles and even bruising on my shoulders. Yet....I keep doing it.
    What good have I accomplished in my life?
    Nothing.
    I cant even transition without chickening out because of what people think about me.
    I wear boxers, thick hoodies, binders, compression shirts, mens jeans, steel toe boots....yet I'm still always going to be a girl to the people around me. I've accomplished...nothing.
    -Warren
  14. 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
  15. WarrenG
    Anyone newly transitioning will nod a big "YUP" to me about this issue, and maybe some of you trans-vets out there too.
    Public Bathrooms. The lou. The resty. The bowl of salvation, the think tank, the throne.
    Call it what you will, but the issues remain the same.
    Where the hell do we go?

    I'm FTM. I DREAD the bathrooms. I will literally try to be as stealthy as humanly possible to sneak in the door, find a stall, and wait there until people leave before I rush out and wash my hands then run out of the bathroom like my head's on fire. I feel like I'm not supposed to be in there, and this notion is clearly shown by those around me.
    I'm in that stage where I'm starting to look more male in what I wear and such, plus the help of compression shirts, yet I still look rather feminine in ways I cant control.
    So just as its confusing for me to figure out which door to run through, I'm sure other people in the bathrooms are equally as puzzled as to if I'm in the wrong bathroom or not.

    One instance, some time ago, I found myself face to face with a rather rude and angry mom in the womens bathroom, snapping and yelling at me that I should be ashamed of myself for going into a bathroom with little girls present. Clearly she thought me male and werent too pleased I were there.
    Yet that were the only time that's happened. Otherwise, I have received the timeless glares and silence that will say a million and one things.
    I only ventured into the men's bathroom once, in the run down building of a Subway Restaurant, and it terrified the hell out of me how filthy it was. True, it could have just been because it werent really the cleanest place on the planet to begin with, but for the sake of my slight Germ fears, I fled the room and went into the women's bathroom instead since no one were around anyway.

    But I've not found the courage in myself yet to go into the men's bathroom full time. I'm not ready yet. I dont look the part yet. Men are just as cruel as women sometimes, and I fear that where the women are silent and cruel in their stares, the men would be even more taunting about it. But I dont know....
    So what does a struggling FTM do? I avoid the womens bathrooms at all costs, because it puts me in an aweful funk after. But I cannot venture the men's bathroom yet either.
    Do I hold it as long as I can until I get home to use the bathroom? But there's that whole health factor that dictates that my idea isnt really the greatest one.
    It's puzzling and frustrating.
    I'm sure you MTFs out there have had the same issues. Whats some of your experiences, good and bad? Let me know
    Warren
  16. WarrenG

    Random Thoughts

    By WarrenG,

    I have a mental dilemma that has been plaguing my mind a little bit. Okay, a lot. It's sort of frustrating. It may be wrong of me and it may be slightly weird, but first of all, I'm Pansexual. No surprise there, I know. But if I can have a favorite 'type' of relationship, it would be guyXguy relationships. It's so cute! Something about it just really comforts me and its something I've always wanted, being that I'm, you know, Transmale. Some people associate me being Transgender with simply my want for a yaoi or gay relationship, but that's hardly the problem. Those people seriously need to research what transgender means >..>
    I'm not sure why, but something about two guys in love really just hits a string in my heart and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy I always wanted to feel what it was like to be in that situation and to be happy. It's all I thought about. And finding a boyfriend was no big deal for me because, at the time, I was presenting as female. The funny part was, as a woman, I never felt attractive. I never felt pretty or anything of the sort, and I disbelieved everyone who claimed that I was a beautiful girl. But now that I can be me, a man, and have full confidence in the fact that I'm not a bad looking guy either I'll admit, I kind of like me. Male me is sort of sexy sometimes.....Never said that before about myself, but now I feel like I can. Even more so if I ever get rid of these disgusting bulges on my chest. But looking back at old pictures of myself, I can now look at them and finally realize.....I was pretty. I was really pretty, actually. I mean, if I'd met someone who looked the way I did back then, shy and adorable yet really mysteriously attractive--I would have asked her out. Which sort of confuses me too because no one ever did lol But I can say now-----I see it now. I see what they were all complimenting....I was pretty. But I like me for me now lol so we're good.
    So now that I'm finally presenting male, part of my brain is like YES! FINALLY! I CAN HAVE A REAL GAY RELATIONSHIP! But on the other hand....my boyfriend doesnt see us as a gay couple. He refuses to, I think, because he does not like being considered gay because he knows whats truely in my jeans. Which saddens me a little....I know I cant blame him for it though. He will always see me as the girl he started dating 5 years ago, who slowly came into her own and became Warren. He cannot be blamed....he's always known me as a girl. That and before we started to date, he was very homophobic. I blame his mother, who is even more so. You cannot blame the student for how the teacher taught.
    But in our relationship, I rarely get that fuzzy feeling I got when watching gay couples out and about doing things like shopping or talking or cuddling. It's a different kind of comfortable, but not the same because----I dont know. Maybe it's my chest that ruins the thought. Or maybe it's his resistance? Maybe its just the knowledge that I'm not a 'real man'. It sort of bugs me sometimes....He wants to read some of my books but in a lot of the books that involve romance, it's a gay couple. So I'm nervous on letting him even peek at them because I fear his rejection and that typical curled nose expression he gives when approached with the topic of homosexuality.
    I dont know, just wanted to get my thoughts out a little bit. Gonna go back to my Sims game and have my total 'dawwwwwww' moments in my little dreamworlds.
    Mostly I just like building houses 0.o
     
    Your ever-confusing Friend,
    War
     
    BTW: Old pics of me

  17. WarrenG

    Rejected.

    By WarrenG,

    So, I got the response for my surgery.....After getting my letters in order and lining things up and rushing to get it finished for them before my insurance cuts out ((The government is apparently changing branches and cutting off my insurance before referring me to a new one)), I sent out my request for help with my surgery. Just a reduction, not a removal, and it came with nearly two pages of symptoms and sufferings in detail and with dates. Including: Neck pain, back pain, shoulder pain, headaches, rashes, moving ribs, limited mobility, shortened walking distances, difficulty with stairs, muscle relaxants because of difficulty sleeping, open sores, and more.
    I got my letter in the mail just before Halloween began.
    The response?
    No.
    Just plain and simple, no. Unless I have tumors or cancer of some sort of abnormality that cannot be altered with medicine, basically...they wont touch it. They gave the option of Estrogen treatment which might do I have no idea what to help, which sounds honestly stupid to begin with. In honesty, I'd rather off myself than take estrogen.
    Wtf is the point in even trying....Every time I turn around, I get shot down and stomped on. I cant keep taking this stress and dealing with being lifted up only so they can drop me from a higher height.
    Maybe I should just go back to being Kristy and make everyone else happy...Life would be easier I guess. Not better, or happier, certainly not any more comfortable. But it seems like that's the only thing I'm allowed to do......So tired of having my heart broke....
    Tired of my family hating me. Tired of the drama where I live for being who I am. Getting a lecture for a haircut. Or them trying to convince me to wear feminine things....
    Figures, I was just starting to be happy too. First time I've been properly gendered on the first try with a stranger, earlier in the day with my neighbor.
    "Hi, who are you?" she asked. "Nice to meet you, I'm Ren" I reply. And without hesitation, she asked my neighbor (mama)'s mother "Is this your grandson?". I grinned and nodded a little "Something like that. Technically Anne Marie is my neighbor but I consider her my Mama".
    Grandson......yeah, I kinda like that.
    But then......then this happens....
    I'm just....
    So done.
     
     
     
     
    I posted this on a transregulars Facebook group I'm in (love these guys, super supportive and most are my age)
    So, recent events have prompted me to start sharing this around again....As some of you have seen already, my insurance has turned me down in my request for a top surgery. I have since talked to my doctor and surgeon, and they said that an appeal will not get far because they will simply give me the same reasons for the first rejection since nothing has changed. If two pages of agonizing symptoms didnt change their minds in the first place, it wont in a second try. Besides that fact, my insurance is cutting out in Janurary due to company changes in government, so an appeal would take too long before it would be too late. Unless I find other means of assistance with this, I'll have to pay out of pocket. The surgeon has been wonderfully helpful and understanding, but he cannot change how the fees work and cannot offer a payment plan for understandable reasons. Nevertheless, I need to somehow come up with the funds to pay for it myself. Even if you guys cannot spare a few (which I totally understand, we're all struggling and money is tight as it is.) Please feel free to pass this around. I HATE doing this and I feel like I'm begging, but in a way I guess I'm not too far from the willingness of begging on my knees. The pain I'm dealing with is beyond what I can express. My ribs are shifting, my already-damaged back is getting worse from the weight, my shoulder is being offset, I cannot sleep at night because theyre limiting my breathing and hurting my back in every position, and even binding is becoming something I dread for its ineffectiveness and unbarable agony. I'm running out of options....I'm not sure what else to do....
    -War
    https://www.gofundme.com/givewarrenahand
     
    We'll see if it goes anywhere......Halloween post in next blog.
    Seemingly slipping again,
    Warren
  18. WarrenG

    Rotating Hour Glass

    By WarrenG,

    Have you ever had to do something, but had to wait to do it? And in that time of waiting, it seems like time ticks by fast when you need it to slow down, and not fast enough when you want it gone?
    I suppose everyone has.
    But tuesday is really dragging on my mind.
    I mean, yeah, I need to see a therapist. I know I do, and I cant deny that.
    But in the same sense....I dont want to. I dread it. I dont want to open up. I dont want to sit down and talk to someone about my broken, ignored childhood. I dont want to talk about how losing my Dad literally destroyed me.
    And I do NOT want to talk about being the wrong gender.

    I guess there's that little part of me that's just scared of what he/she will say.
    I've had so....soooo many people come up to me and say "Maybe its just a phase and you dont know it yet" or "Maybe you started the thought out of the blue, and kept it in mind so much that now you believe it" or my favorite one...."Maybe its just for the attention".
    If it were for attention....wouldnt I want everyone to know about it? Wouldnt I go to work and just blabber about it to every coworker and customer I see? Why would it make me break down in tears from depression, knowing I'm alone in it in so many ways? I dont want the attention from it.
    I dont need the attention.
    I just want....I dont know....acceptance. From myself.
    To wake up and look in the mirror and smile instead of cringe. To not have to tug on several compression shirts just to keep myself from breaking down. To not have to wear a sweater to bed because I cant stand to see or feel "them" near me.
    I just want to be happy.

    This past week has been my own personal version of hell.
    And I'm seriously...seriously sad to say this..but I broke my resistence. My one and a half month of harm-freedom had been destroyed. My world came crashing down, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, or tell myself that it would be okay, and believe it.
    I've added six little scars to my book of memories, and I'm ashamed of it.
    I cant tell what's worse though. The fact that I did it..or the fact that no one notices?
    It took my boyfriend a good two months to realize that my left arm was littered. And thats with us sleeping together every night, WITHOUT a long sleeve shirt.
    At times it feels like no matter what I do or what I pretend to be...I'm still invisable.
    A twenty two year old depressed young man, trapped in the body of a scarred, scared, ashamed girl with next to no career, a failing sense of worth, and a hopeless depth of numb agony.

    I know looking up is always the best bet. That no matter how deep the hole gets, I can always look up and try to find that bright blue sky. But lately it seems like that blue sky does nothing but rain on me. And instead of getting an umbrella, all I can find is a lightning rod.
    So, yes. I'm nervous to have a therapist. I'm nervous as hell to have all this put out in the air, while physically being in front of someone. Online is one thing. I can hide behind me screen. Shed any tears I need to without anyone noticing. Hide my face away in my hood.
    But in front of someone....I cant.
    I've broken apart so many times, I'm afraid I'm running out of glue to fix it.
    I'm almost giving up on it.
    Almost digging out that dress he wants me to wear. Almost putting on that hat til my hair grows back. Almost dressing up like his mother nags at me to do.
    I'm just so tired of the agony I have to go through, just to be me.

    We dont ask to be transgendered. But it happens regardless.
    No matter what your religious views are, since I have none, it's unfair. If its God testing me, I cant help but why? Why test someone in such a cruel way? Test me for what? Well I fail. I chose to fail.
    No, I dont have the patience for the crap. No, I'm not compassionate towards those who strike me down. And no, I will not turn the other cheek.
    For now, I'll fight with what I have left. And hopefully leave the therapists office on tuesday with some sense of purpose.
    Its all I can hope for.
    Warren
  19. WarrenG

    Second Try

    By WarrenG,

    Well, this is my second blog on here.
    It's been a long while since I were on here, mostly due to password issues. XD
    ANYWAY: the trip up to see my family went much better than I had expected, to be honest. My family had always been the judgemental type. You know the kind....all cops are pigs, governments out to get us, gays are weird, etc etc etc. So NATURALLY I were petrified to talk to my mother about my transgender issues. Of course I had already informed my older sister of what was going on, and she was totally cool with it. Really, she was. I almost died of shock.
    BUT due to a court battle between my sister and her abusive Ex in order to keep her two ADORABLE daughters, all of her messages became public to....DUN DUN DUUUUUN. My mother.
    So, of course, my mom found out. And my mom being...well, my mom....she has a loud mouth.
    So after driving three hours north, getting lost and backtracking another hour, I finally arrived at my mom's new home up on the mountainside. And was pleasantly and anxiously surprised to find not just my mom and siblings and two nieces, but also my uncle I havent seen in six years, my grandfather I havent seen in five, and my aunt that I havent seen in probably ten years. All were sitting at the table waiting for me. Just me.
    To get right to the point, they had all travelled to my moms house with knowing that I was coming for a visit, Just to tell me that it's okay. And they'll accept me how ever I am.

    I literally cried with relief. I was driving up there expecting my mom to throw me out on the lawn in horror. I dont think me and my mom have ever been closer, actually. It was so much more comfortable to walk around at night in a tshirt and my boxers without worrying about them judging me for it. True they were a little awkwarded out by it, but they got used to it.
    The visit ended a few days later with plans for me to kidnap my youngest sister who is suffering a lot of the same issues I did at her age, a syndrom we all know as 'black sheep'. My family is into horses, outdoors, simple things. My sister, like me, loves Black Veil Brides, rock music, punk hairstyles, dark clothes, etc. So naturally, I'm proud to have another 'black sheep' in the family and I plan to have her down at my place for a few days of 'outcast hangout'. Should be a blast.

    Also, I BOUGHT MY FIRST BINDER
    I was super excited and my boyfriend agreed to let me buy a binder. I got it from Manshape, and its not so much of a binder I guess, but a compression tank? Not sure what it was called. I cried when I put it on, soooooo relieved to see a difference. But, naturally, after a while I just wanted to see even less. I've been working out for half hour before I go to work every day, focusing on shoulder and chest exercises. I've gone from 226 pounds down to 213! So excited. I was angry that my binder didnt seem to do jackshiz until I realized that it was because, DUH, I'm losing weight. So it's not as tight. This saturday I plan to buy a compression shirt from UNDERARMOR to try and help with it until I can buy another binder. A better one, hopefully.

    DOCTOR UPDATE:
    I went back to see my doctor for a check up on my new meds and whatnot. We talked about the gender thing, and she has said she found me a doctor, but his waiting list is a little long, so she's getting ahold of one more local. Impatient, I've been looking on my own as well. The area I live in is sort of vague on doctors who cover that sort of thing, going between two to five hours away from where I live, which I financially cannot afford. BUT, my silver lining: There is a therapist office in the town that I work, where I know my insurance should be accepted, because I were told there are at least 6 of my coworkers who go to that office for other issues. So, here's hoping I can get in.

    I've started a box called my 'boy box' where I have been saving some of my paychecks here and there, and its funds to go towards either binders, surgery, or therapy. Whatever is needed for my transformation, that money is for that purpose only. And it's racking up, much to my delight

    All in all, things have gotten a bit better. My relationship with my boyfriend is still a bit strained, though the tension is lessening a bit and is more focused on my own peace of mind with the situation and things that I want to do that either he doesnt, or I cant. It's a working progress.
    More update later, now that I'm done babbling and spilling my beans.
    Now if I could only stop accidently writing 'Ren' as my name at work instead of my legal name, I can keep this secret a tad bit longer at work!
    -Warren
  20. WarrenG

    Semi-Perminate "See ya"

    By WarrenG,

    So, for various reasons, I've decided to take a semi-perminate break from blogging. I just have nothing positive going on in my life right now and I dont want every single blog post I put up to be negativity and venting. I'm just.....tired. Nothing I say is right anymore, and somehow I always seem to anger someone. Last night I was basically yelled at for my blog post being insensitive and rude and it severely made someone mad at me, and later it was brought to my attention that I swear way too much.
    (Which is true, I wont lie. No hard feelings, I know I had WAY too many swears in there. It's cool, no worries.)
    I was requested to take some swears out, which I totally would have done but I decided I didnt like the entire post so I got rid of it. I just...need to take a break. I just dont feel that any of my blogs are productive or encouraging to the transgender community anymore.
    Seems like any attempt I make to patch things up with people only make them more angry. My offer to forget about the release form thing for the book, out of nothing more than non-hostile or insulting manners, came off as rude and pig headed so now that person is all mad at me again. I just...I cant do anything right.
    I bought new shoes and stuff for my brother because he didnt have any, but it made him upset that I was buying things for him. I bought a stuffed toy for someone who's sick to make them feel better, and got a lecture about spending money. I tried to make food for someone because they were hungry, and all they did was say it was disgusting and made them sick.
    I'm just so sick of trying...
    Maybe when...if....something good ever happens, I'll start writing again. For now, I think I'll just go back to my dark corner and stay quiet.
     
    Stuck in a rut,
    Ren
  21. WarrenG
    Work today started off as usual. I got there, I got rid of my backpack and such, got changed into my chef's gear, and got to work. Everything was normal. Well, as normal as it could be, anyway.
    That is...until after lunch.
    I headed to my locker to get my headphones for my ipod, but something fell out of my locker.
    A little piece of paper, folded up, crinkled, and written on.
    "Gender Queers Dont belong here, f*** off"
    It took me a good five minutes to read this fully, and for it to punch me square in the jaw like I'd been hit and run over by a freight train on the run.
    I had to sit down and stare at the note. I looked up at my locker, realizing that my nametag on my locker door was torn to shreds on the floor.
    Why cant I get a break? Even a little one....why not?

    Nearly numb with hurt, I brought it to my coworker. "Bring it right to the manager!" she gasped, shocked that it had happened. (She knows im transitioning)
    I did so, and brought it to him, and showed him. He then shrugged it off as if it were nothing, and threw the note in the trash. Like it were nothing to him, and the whole situation meant nothing.
    I broke down, walked outside, curled up and lost it.
    After probably five to ten minutes, I eventually calmed down and went back to work.
    I was livid that they didnt care. But I couldnt explain to them about WHY it bothered me so much, because then they would know. Then it would click, and they would see what I were hiding.
    They'd see into my closed closet doors.

    Later, it finally clicked to them how serious this was. The manager took the note out of the trash, apologized to me for "blowing you off", and took the matter to higher management. He then came to me and said basically that this whole situation was bull**** and he will NOT stand for it.
    This is all good and such, and great that they're now taking it seriously but...
    I just handed in a note that insulted me as a Gender Queer, obviously upset about it...they're going to put 2 and 2 together and realize what's going on.
    This is not how I wanted this to come to light.
    I dont know what to do...
    Warren
  22. 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
  23. WarrenG
    I'm honestly not sure why I'm even blogging. I hardly see a point in whining about my ___ anymore. It doesnt really get me anywhere and I just end up looking like a whiner.
    I've fought with insurance. I've tried jumping through loopholes and even my doctor stood up to try and talk to them. But the answer is no, no matter what I try. My gender says Male on it, so my surgery is no longer a breast reduction. It's transgender surgery. But no, you have to use a code for gynocomastia for my claims because I'm male legally. But I dont have gynocomastia? Oh but that doesnt matter because that surgery is elective and cosmetic. I explained that it's only cosmetic because they say it is. According to me and my doctor and the surgeon, it is necessary due to health problems which apparently dont mean squat when it comes to insurance. Because of my stupid ID...
    Their solution? "Then maybe just change your ID back to FEMALE".
    Which I can only do every 3 years I was told...So wait 2 years to change my ID for an insurance company I might not even have by then? No thanks.
    So it's back to square one (until I can switch insurances. Good riddance Blue Cross Blue Shield Anthem!!!! You dont cover squat! ((Only office visits, no labs, no eye, no dental, no ER)) so why keep them!?) Fundraising. Sort of. Saving up money on the side when I can, plus my gofundme.
    HUGE HUGE HUGE THANK YOU to Artemis and Lori R. for donating 50$ to the cause. So much love your way!
     
    On another note, I'm trying something else to try and earn money for surgery. So far I only have about 500$ saved up (8,500$ to go.....). Fairy Jars. Some of you MIGHT have seen them on my facebook if I've added you, but here's a very minimal example of what I'll be doing.
    While Lit inside: 
    Outside without lighting: 
     
    I'd made this particular one to try it out and it was for someone in California, but she hasnt been able to pay for shipping yet so it hasnt gone anywhere. I'm attempting to find lighter jars so shipping will be cheaper plus I want to focus on recycled jars and materials so there is less waste and plus I wont be spending a ton of $ on supplies.
    These are only for decoration and should NOT be used with a real candle (battery operated only) else it will catch the foam inserts and tissue paper on fire!
    I'll be doing different themes once I get more supplies (wolves, dragons, more fairies, etc) with a different variety of jars in size and shape. Different colors as well. Some may not have as many decorations added onto the outside like this particular one (it was custom, mostly done by Alex) but I'll update and add photos as I get there.
    Like I said, payments for the jars will go directly to my GoFundMe account as this seems to be the best solution for everyone when it comes to payments and where the money will be going (towards surgery).
    I'll let you know how that goes...
    Havent sold any yet (because I have yet to get supplies) but I have a few people interested.
    We'll see....
    In other news, there isnt much going on. Alex joined a few groups on facebook that he could relate to and seems to have found his own little world to be in, which is good I guess. It gives him more independence and a sense of his own life or something like that. He's a little annoyed right now because our cellphone completely kicked the bucket (I kind of figured it would. It was slowly getting really annoying kinks such as the screen messing up and the buttons not working) So now he cant text people while we're at work or something. I have to get a new one ASAP for work and whatnot but the people I share my verizon plan with are being a pain in my ____ about if I should upgrade through the account or just buy a prepaid. I have no idea what I'm looking at and theyre all just brushing it off like it's nothing but I NEED a phone for work. I'm giving them another day to figure it out before I do it on my own, to hell with their advice or preferences.
    My job is more important than their preferences on MY phone.
    Yes, I'm in a slightly cranky mood....I blame shark week. Dyphoria is totally kicking my butt tonight and it's made me severely annoyed. Plus getting to work and climbing into the work jeep---oh look, it's out of gas. Climb into the work van instead---oh look, two flat tires. Try to fill the tires back up and end up ripping off the stupid hub caps because they were preventing the damn nozzle from putting air in the tire---oh great, I cant get one back on. Try kicking and oh nice, I split one of my toenails because I forgot I had sneakers on and not my steeltoe boots....
    Ugh, it's been a lovely night.
    Plus I dont remember if I said this but I apparently have a damaged Trapezius muscle which is preventing me from exercising so I've gained weight and feel horrible plus it keeps siezing up every few days. Oh yeah and my 225mg of thyroid medication (highest dose I'm allowed) isnt working and I might have three tumors in my thyroid glands. YAY ME!
    -__-
    I'm going to bed now.....>.>
    Ren
  24. WarrenG
    "Neverland is home to lost boys like me, And lost boys like me are free"
    "Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, Wendy Darling, even Captain Hook--You are my perfect story book. Neverland, I love you so. You are now my home sweet home. Forever a Lost Boy, at last."
    Lost Boy by Ruth B
     
    Jeez, can this week drag on any longer? I keep checking my messages and the mail for a response from the insurance company, but no luck. I'm seriously one of the most impatient people on the planet earth.  
    Justin's finger's all healed (for the most part) and we got his stitches out yesterday. ((Cant remember if I told you guys! He was washing a cup in the sink and the dummy put his hand in a glass that was too small for his hands and it broke, slicing open his pinkie. Four stitches and a week of bandage and braces))

    He's so happy to have his hand mostly back XD the dope! We obviously got a cup scrubbie on a stick, like, ASAP. lol
     
    On a more sad note, one of our dogs is coming down sick  My favorite Babe, Ziggy. He's a rather old dog to start with, but the fleas and sensitive skin on our dogs has been relentless and ridiculous. And since Justin's mom is very VERY careful about what we put on the animals in terms of flea treatment, we havent gotten rid of the fleas yet  Mostly because she hasnt been interested in trying anything strong, which I can SORT of understand but jeez....poor animals. Anyway, Ziggy chews on his fur a lot and he has really long fur, so it was getting matted in his teeth. We hadnt really noticed because it was very subtle. We started noticing he had a really bad smell on his breath, so we gave him a bath, thinking the smell was just him chewing on himself. Nope, it was the fur stuck to his teeth. But now my poor baby has sore gums, and his mouth bleeds with almost everything he puts in his mouth (food, toys, himself >.<). He hasnt been feeling very well lately and it might just be an upset stomach, but I worry about him. He's not a young pup (Probably around 12-14yrs old, we're not 100% sure since he was a rescue). Hopefully he feels better soon. I couldnt bare to lose him right now  

     
    I'll let you guys know ASAP when I get a response from the insurance company.
    A huge part of me is dreading that they'll say no again...I was super confident that they'd say yes at first, but now all I can think of is them saying no....Ugh, I hate this.
     
    Ren
     
     
     
     
  25. WarrenG

    Sulking in Angry Silence

    By WarrenG,

    I apologize, first of all, for not being here very much the past few days.
    I very much appreciate all the kind messages from you guys in concerns to my wellbeing, but please do not be insulted that I did not reply to your messages.
    It's been sort of a habit of mine of late...
    Online-friends will message my kik or skype, and I read them...Please know that I DO read them.
    But...I cant get myself to reply. I have no words in mind, no fake smiles to share, or motives for my disappearance.

    In truth, I have found that hole I used to hide in, and have fallen deep into it.
    Fallen so deep that it is hard to decide what is up and what is down. I'm not sure what's wrong with me, to be honest. I'm just....so angry....and I dont know why.
    I'm angry at everyone, all the time, over nothing. I'll wake up fine, and it'll be a normal day. Then it just hits me, without me even realizing it...I'm snapping at everyone, glaring at everyone, just all around being a very angry person.
    I dont understand it either, and unfortunately it has made for a very stressful week.
    When I'm not angry, I'm pitifully depressed.
    My therapist has asked "do you think your emotions and depression and anxiety problems root from your gender identity problem?" and I had immediatly responded with yes.
    But sometimes I wonder if its not.
    I know these things have to come from somewhere, and depression doesnt just spring out of thin air. I know every branch has a tree, has a root, sourced from a seed.
    But will being who I really am....really make me happy?
    Will I really be able to wake up and start the day without wanting to curl up into a ball? I dont know. And I'll be honest with you guys, completely ****ing honest....I'm scared.
    Scared that I'll go through all this, do what I need to do, lose a lot of friends and possibly my boyfriend...only to find out that it's not what I really wanted.
    What if the man I turn into, isnt who I've been seeing in the mirror all these years?

    I'm not going to lie. Not even a little.
    It scares the **** out of me...when I think about that. I've heard the stories of transguys doing everything, only to realize that who they were 'pretending' to be was really who they were.
    I've become afraid of intimacy in my whole confusion of self-identity. I dont like certain activities anymore. I avoid them. Sure I'll do it if it's only me, but otherwise....I dread it. And I dont even know why.
    What's bugging me on a sidenote of ^^that^^ is the pain. I get the most annoying pain/cramping afterwards, for up to two days. No one knows why...Mentally I keep laughing it off and saying "It's my male side feeling violated and is angry at me". But medically it is kind of annoying.
    I dont know...I just felt like rambling.
    My harming has come back in a full swing, and I was stupid and didnt use cleaning alcohol before/after so now its all red and sore as hell.
    I dont know why I do the things I do. I dont know why I say the things I say, or think the things I think, or act the way I act.
    I just....do.
    I cant help that. And even if you said I did, I wouldnt know where to begin.
    I have another appointment with "Joan" on tuesday. I'm honestly not looking forward to it. At this point, I'd rather just curl up in bed and flip "the bird" at the world.

    I dont want to deal with this crap anymore, especially when I dont know what crap I'm sick of, or why. I just am.
    Good news is I lost more weight. Bad news is I dont know if its from the exercise that I've stopped doing, or just from my mood this week. Yay, I think?
    Warren

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