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WarrenG

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Blog Entries posted by WarrenG

  1. 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
  2. WarrenG
    So today was my first day of therapy EVER, and it goes without saying that I were a nervous wreck. I got up much earlier than I even needed to, and wandered around the house like a bored lunatic.
    When I finally decided to leave and went as slowly as I were comfortable, just killing time and cruising along, I still showed up at the office a little more than half hour early.
    Signed in, no problem.
    So I was sitting there for a while and the secretary comes over and sits next to me.
    "I overlooked your paperwork." she said. Overlooked my paperwork?
    "I just now realized your dysphoria part of the paperwork. Do you mind if I switch your doctor last minute? I think you'd be more comfortable with a different one".
    Uh...sure? How the hell should I know, I havent met any of them
    So, they switched my therapist. No worries.

    The woman was actually very nice, and somehow I found it very easy to talk to her. She actually GREATLY resembles an elderly (though shes younger lol) woman I used to care for. It's almost incredible how much they look alike, though several years apart.
    Before I even realized what was going on, she had gotten me talking, and it was actually pretty easy to spill my guts a bit.
    She then told me "I'm not really supposed to reveal my own personal life with you, but my daughter is actually one of the leaders of a LGTB community". Awesome! EUREKA, someone who knows a little of what I'm tryin' to talk about!!
    So, you guys were right and I feel dumb for stressing about it so much, but it wasnt THAT bad.
    I actually like her, and was surprised that I actually felt a little better when I left today. Lighter.
    Stronger.
    Getting that tiny bit off my chest felt so much better...
    She wants to see me every week, and hopefully I can financially do it. I'm not sure if I'll get an after-bill from my insurance company since I have to do a 20$ copay. Hopefully not, because I wouldnt be able to afford to do it very often. Fingers crossed!

    I'm thinking of talking to her about maybe getting a little piece of paper for her to just scribble her name on so I can give it to my mom, to prove to her that I'm seeing someone for my "issues" and ITS NOT A DAMN PHASE!!!!!
    Even the woman (I feel horrible for not knowing her name! I forgot already!) said it doesnt sound like just a phase to her. Thank god, I'm not crazy!!


    LATER TONIGHT: I decided in celebration of not losing my mind, I would go buy a 6-pack of my favorite drink, Mike's Hard Blood Orange. Usually one, and I'm done anyway. I dont go all out on it, BUT the drinks are seasonal unfortunatly, so I have to wait all year to get them (Half thought of maybe buying a few 6packs and storing them over winter for me to enjoy until they come out again! Will write the company about keeping them year round.)
    Anyway, I got my merchandise and some tonic water for the bf, and headed to the check out. Things were going good, I werent really paying attention because I simply just wanted to go home and play some Minecraft with my booooze (lol) and the girl asked for my I.D.
    No big deal, I know I'm twenty two, I'm allowed to buy it.
    So I handed it over.
    She looked at it, and arched an eyebrow....and didnt hand it back.
    She kept looking at it, and looked confused.
    "This is your I.D. or a sibling?" she asked of me. Uh....huh?
    The girl claimed I looked nothing like the girl on the I.D. and didnt believe that it were mine. So she called the manager, withheld my I.D., and waited for him to show up.
    WHAT!?

    Manager shows up, and agrees with her So I had to hand over two other forms of I.D. with my name on it so that they could make sure it was a legit I.D., and I was on my way with the suggestion that I should get a new photo done.
    Actually his words are "If you're going to change genders, change photos. It's inconvienant for both you and us."
    >.>
    Granted, the picture really is a bit different from me right now. But still.....that was rude.
    So I took my damn drinks and booked it.
    I just finished my second one and you know what? Life is pretty peachy at the moment. I'm not drunk, thats for sure. These are only like 5% alcohol. But its nice to finally relax. I dont feel so alone on this, because I know that on tuesday, I can go and drop some more of my boulder-sized worries on my therapist.
    Thanks for all the support, you guys make me smile when I'm frowning and pick me up when I'm tripping on my own two feet.
    I'm so glad I found Transgender Guide, it's made life so much more tollerable.
    I dare say enjoyable.
    Warren
  3. WarrenG
    Like the title of one of my favorite songs, "I'm Still Here"
    I havent forgotten anyone, and I havent fallen off the face of the planet either!
    This month has been rather hectic for me, in truth. December begs to be a difficult time for everyone, naturally, since everyone has SOMETHING going on for the holidays, no matter how much of a hermit you plead to be.
    For me this year, I was blessed with the company of my little sister for the month. For me, it's a huge thing, and I were doing my absolute best to make the most of every day. As her visit is slowly coming to a close (she leaves the 17th poo) things are starting to calm down a little, and I have unusually woken up rather early today. So why not post a quick blog??
    We went to the movies, went out to dinner several times, shopping, etc. Spoiled her rotten, I dare say!
    As for my own personal moments, there havent been too many worth noting, to be honest.

    I cut my hair even shorter, and by god to I love it!! It's so much more comfortable and....well...me!
    I style it how I want it, and I've never been happier with...well my face I guess! XD
    Though I've noticed changes. Not in me, in particular, but those around me. The strangers that pass me by as I shop with my sister or boyfriend. The glances that repeat and the glares that persist.
    I thought the bathroom issues were troublesome before, boy I had no idea how easy it was back then.
    Now that I'm convincing the world of my manliness....bathroom situations have gotten that much more awkward.
    Of course I still cannot venture into the men's room as of yet. But the glares I get in the womens room....yikes. One woman went as far as to glare at me and mumble "f***ing f**s"
    I guess she wasnt wrong, really. As a Bisexual Transgender, in one way or another I guess I am a f**. I dont take that as insulting, because it sort of is the truth. I dont mind
    But the tone and choice of muttering is what got to me, really.
    I brushed it off and like any other day, just pretended I was the only one who’d notice my unusual awesomeness.
    I cant remember if I told you all about my experience with buying alcohol…..Either way, here’s a recap. A few months ago, I had gone in to buy a 6pack of my favorite Blood Orange from Mike’s Hard. Delicious, but seasonal, which is unfortunate. But anyway, I wanted to get some as it is seasonal and wouldn’t be out for very long. ANYWAY, I went up to the register and attempted to buy it, and so came the ‘carding’. But she wouldn’t accept my I.D.
    So she called in her manager, who also would not accept my I.D. because it “simply is not your I.D.”
    So…they called the cops too. An officer came, looked at my I.D. and shook his head. He said he could see ‘some’ resemblance but was yet convinced, so he asked for me to show to other forms of I.D.
    So after handing over my S.S. card and my library card, along with my work/campus I.D., he finally let me off the hook and I left with booze in hand. But with the recommendation that I get the photo on my I.D. changed as soon as I could. Especially in case I were to get pulled over for something!
    So….I DID!!
    It took a little convincing and again, I had to hand over other forms of I.D. to prove that it was my own. Which in a way made me feel good because my transition is convincing!
    I’ll add the photo soon

    On New Years I had a bit of a falling out with my boyfriend, which I sort of expected to happen anyway since things had begun to get so rough.
    In the moment when neither of us wanted to walk away, he finally stood up and demanded I stay and that we work this out, convinced that he’d be alone for the rest of his life if I left because he didn’t want anyone else. Honestly I cried so hard that my head hurt for three days afterwards, but we worked it out. Dare I say, and knock on wood, but our relationship has been better than ever since. We agreed that we’d talk about whatever is going on at the end of every single month, because we both have the habit of bottling up our emotions and keeping quiet until we explode.
    So hopefully, in that department, I’m better than ever
    As another plus, I went to the bank to cash in my unemployment check (laid off from Dec 19th till Jan 19th, and I get a whole whopping 48$ a week jeez, thanks.) and the woman had to actually stop and ask “Are you Justin or Kristy?”
    I wanted to hug her for even asking! It felt silly, but awesome. Even Justin chuckled at it, because he knew it made me happy to have my gender questioned.
    Then when trying on new pants at walmart, the woman assumed of my gender role and automatically sent me to the men’s dressing room instead of the women’s. It’s tiny little things like that, that make my day complete. It’s awesome, and though it seems silly to some people…it makes me a lot happier.
    I’m officially OFF the self-harm-watch-list by my therapist (Was one month cut-free up until a week ago, which was due to an imbalance of my medications. Noted: Don’t take Lexapro at the same time as Levothyroxin. They counterbalance eachother!) but I stopped just a little ways into the act and turned to using markers instead. I’ll show you the picture for that too, don’t worry.

    BUT I think I have dragged into this blog long enough, and I’ve music to go download and exercise to get back to. From 230pnds down to 211! I’m getting there!
    Best of love and hugs and all that lovey gooey mushy stuff,
    Warren

  4. WarrenG
    As I said, it's 5am.
    5:47am to be exact.....
    I wanted to write a blog, and try and toss down some of the emotions that are keeping me awake but at the moment...I feel like my brain has shut off completely. I'm not sure what to say, or how express myself right now.
    I had a breakdown last night...I'd been wearing a lose sportsbra to bed at night because I absolutely HATE the feeling of "them" having any freedom while I'm trying to sleep.
    But last night...I knew I had to take it off. It needed to be washed, and it's not healthy to leave it on all the time. Instantly I got frustrated with "them". They were heavy, in my way, I couldnt get comfortable no matter what I did or what position I found myself in....I just couldnt take it.
    I broke down bawling my pathetic eyes out because I hate them so much, it makes me depressed and miserable...but there's nothing I can do about it. I dont have 8000$

    I literally cannot even express how much I hate them....just looking at them makes me want to cry. I get so angry just trying to wrestle into my binding shirts every day. I die of heat in an 80F kitchen every day, wearing three shirts UNDER my heavy chefs coat...but I feel like if I take them off and not bind them down, everyone can see them. I tried that one time. ONCE. And you know what happened?
    I left work. I told them I fell outside and hurt my back, and really needed to go home. So I did.
    I lied, and faked injury...because I was so embarrassed to have something I were born with.
    Some people dont understand, no matter how much I explain, until I have a complete mental breakdown and bawl my eyes out because I cant rip them off and throw them away.
    I want to punch girls in the face for saying "mine are so tiny" because I'd kill for it. I would literally rip them off and give them away if I could...
    I know you guys understand that to a degree, and I'll never fully understand how it feels to me MTF any more than you'll know what its like to be FTM. Because every side is different, though in some ways the same. But I feel like sometimes...not all the time! But sometimes FTMs have it bad...
    There is no happy medium for guys like me. I hit 13 years old and was struck with 32Ds....AT 13.
    I begged my mom for a breast reduction. BEGGED HER. But she told me no, I was too young.
    The doctor even recommended it to help me with back pain.
    But she still said no.

    Slowly they forgot about me, and it was never offered again. But I wanted it so bad....until I realized I'd never be happy with a reduction. I'd want them gone. Completely, no reduced, but GONE GONE.

    Then tonight, about ten minutes ago actually, I randomly decided to look up FTM on the oh-so-mighty awesomeness of Youtube. Hey, why not, right?
    I'll admit, almost every single transition video I watched brought a smile to my face and tears to my eyes...but they made me angry.
    Angry, frustrated, depressed......
    I want what they have.
    I literally thought think of nothing else.
    "I want that."
    I want to go through the whole process. I want those awesome results, that insane happiness of feeling at least 98% complete. Damn it, I WANT THAT.
    But....
    I dont, and I cant...at least not for...jeez....YEARS...
    I feel like I'll never get there. I'm closer, yes. Much closer than I was in Janurary 2014! But for me it just doesnt feel like enough...
    It'll never feel like enough until my I.D. says Warren, Male, 198pnds, NOT kristy, female, 210

    I dont want to say it, but I ****ing hate my body. There, said it. I really...really....REALLY ****ing hate the cards I've been dealt. And yes, I have gotten to those crying fits were I spit out "why me" and "its not fair". I'm sure we all have. But at what point am I going to be okay with this crap? I say I'm toughing it out and the world can suck it, and that's true! I'm toughing it out TOWARDS OTHERS. I'm ignoring what OTHER PEOPLE SAY. I'm being me as best I can!
    But I cant ignore my own fears, frustrations, and unbelievable anger towards my family, my body, hell even my doctor and therapist. I feel like I'm the only one trying to win this war, and everyone else is just nodding at me and saying "yup, cool, keep doing that" while they sit there eating popcorn.
    I havent gone back to cutting and I'm doing my very very best to keep that going. But god damn it no matter how many swears, CAPSLOCK and god knows what else I type or say or do, it will never EVER express how much I hate this war.
    Arguing with my reflection, debating with my wardrobe, and bickering with my selfconciousness.
    I think I finally understand what they mean by "Battle of the Brain" or "Battle of Wits"
    My war isnt with my binder, and the world around me. It's not with the judgement that's passed regardless of what I do or what I dont do.
    It's with myself. I cant seem to sit myself down and tell myself to slow down and take it easy.
    I've never been patient.
    But I know what I want, and I want it now.
    Not next year, not five years from now, and certainly not when I'm 30.

    But the more I push forward, seems like the more I hit brick walls. And like I usually do in minecraft, I forgot my damn pickaxe in my other world.
    The Game is Kicking my ***,
    Warren
  5. WarrenG
    I'm not going to lie, I'm extremely frustrated.
    Maybe from not taking my meds last night, maybe from being tired, maybe even from just being restless.
    I'm so frustrated at the moment that I could just scream and start a fist fight.
    This whole month has been one big bowl of rotten, festering cherries in my face.
    First I had that fight with my sister, who has now decided that I'm a bad influence around my nieces, therefore she doesnt want me around them so long as I'm going to be warren, not kristy.
    That's the first straw.
    Then, the whole "You cant change your work nametag until you change your name legally". The constant judgement and attitude from my head chef and then the HR lady (who confessed to someone else that the only reason shes being a b**** to me is because she thinks I'm hurting my bf by changing. Give me a f***ing break. So you're a b**** to me instead? Thanks a lot!)
    That got extremely old, Extremely fast.
    Then, while getting ready to leave for my hour long session of b****ing to my therapist, BOOM, CRASH, SNAP!
    Down I go. Severely sprained ankle, bruises of purple, black and green all over. Later found out I'd also cracked my shin bone, which they can do literally nothing for but let it heal.

    THEN I had the lovely embrace of that bastard they call the FLU. Jeez, thanks for that. Coughing and hacking so hard it'd force me to vomit, my head aching, my skin crawling with either sweat or shivers. That was a lovely time.....not! Then I were slapped with the extra detail that I cannot take any form of cough medicine because it counteracts with my lexapro/anti-depressant. Wow, really? Thanks a whole heaping lot! So the docs advice? Deal with it.

    I had attempted EIGHT TIMES to get to the city and pay the courts a visit to officially change my name. EIGHT F***ING TIMES. Blizzard, car breaks, storms, storms, more storms, and 3 feet of snow in one fall. Finally, on the nineth time, I told my boyfriend ahead of time that I dont give a flying **** what the weather looked like. I was going.
    So a one hour ride took me almost three. Doing 10mph on the interstate because it's backed up with traffic from severe weather, snow piling up everywhere, cars crashing left and right from idiot drivers not paying attention.
    The whole ride I kept reminding myself "its just testing you. how badly do you want to be warren?"
    So I kept going.
    FINALLY I got to the courthouse, after fighting a map to figure out where I was going.
    But it wasnt the right place. They sent me to the wrong one.
    "You need probate court".
    Fine. Give me directions. Drive another ten minutes. This is probationary court. Are you under probation? No? You need THAT courthouse.
    Another ten minutes.
    And another. Another courthouse, another ten minutes, another courthouse.
    By this time I had visited over seven courthouses and been told I were in the wrong one.
    It got to the point where I'd refuse to empty my pockets (as Id had to do for every courthouse) or go through the metal detectors. I'd ask the officers right at the door "can I change my name here? No? Bye."
    I'd lost my patience. Then, after being stuck for 20 minutes at a broken streetlight that rotated turns six times before letting my lane go, I finally reached the actual courthouse that I needed to be at.

    By this time I were going to be late for work, despite leaving at 6am and not needing to work until noon.
    FINALLY I handed over the paperwork, paid the 120$, and was informed of a letter I'd get in the mail in about 5 weeks about a court date. Come and talk to a judge, and I'm legally Warren.
    So, I felt a little better. But then I was late for work and had to move my a**.

    At which point my car breaks down. It shuts off going down a highway, stalls, wont shift....so I sit on the side of the road for about an hour before it actually moves and gets me to work.
    I get to work, no problem, when I realize one of the other girls' nametag. Moo.
    Moo!? Seriously?! I'm not allowed to get my name tag changed to Warren unless I legally change my name, but she can get MOO!? DID SHE LEGALLY CHANGE HER NAME TO MOO!? I DONT F***ING THINK SO!!!
    So, trying to keep my cool, I spotted the manager (theres several of them, and they constantly butt heads. This one is named Mike H. Normally I hate him.)
    He was messing with a can opener that my section were given but done use, due to the fact that it literally SHREDS the cans and I deemed it unsafe.
    I happened to ask him at which point I can get my tags changed, since I had to wait for the paperwork from the court. He seemed confused, arching a brow at me.
    I explained to him that I am transgendered, and want my name tag changed, but was told I couldnt until I legally changed my name. Which I had officially done, but was waiting for my paperwork.
    Of course I also mentioned "Moo".

    He seemed confused. "Who told you that you couldnt?" he asked. I explained, and he became furious. Mike H. is very supportive of diversity with homosexuality, transgenders, crossdressers, etc. The school that I work in PRIDES itself on their openness and support to the LGBT. Yet...clearly under his nose the whole time, was judgement and descrimination towards me because I'm transgender. He FLIPPED. A LID.
    He swore to get to the bottom of it, get my nametag, and take care of the problem. He did as he said. I have my nametag, I have his oath of support, and he even informed me that if ANYONE says ANYTHING against my situation, to tell him immediatly and he'll 'take care of it'.
    So on one small note, it was a very good day.
    He insists on calling me Warren, and he has no problem remembering it. He says it a little more than needed, perhaps to make me feel confident or perhaps just to remind himself of it so he doesnt slip up. But nevertheless, it's improved.

    I'm going to leave this ranting, raging, venting blog here, on a good note.
    My name change is official. I'm waiting on the judge and my paperwork, and I'm officially Warren.
    Kristy will be a name of the past.
    My job has officially been kicked square in the a**, and I can walk around being known as Warren, and legit be able to tell people "name tag says Warren. I had a name change, please dont call me kristy".
    Now.....to tell the boyfriends parents....hrm.
    OFFICIALLY YOURS,
    Warren
  6. WarrenG
    Ok so I figured I'd start out by jumping right into my pool of angry venting and oblivious flailing. Sort of like a seagull who just witnessed some scumbag stealing "his" crumb. You ever watched a seagull in a McDonalds parking lot, when someone throws a french fry and some other gull grabs it? He's all "AAAAAH!!! YOU SCUMBAGGGG!! I SAW DAT FIRST, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! YOU-oh, hey, that hooman has another one!?"
    That's how I imagine it anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

    TOOTLES!
    Oh and I love you all.
    Just as a footnote.
    LATERS,
    Warren
  7. 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
    I've been seeing a lot of hate lately towards the gorgeous Caitlyn Jenner, and frankly...its saddening. I know it is difficult for people to understand the gravity and complexity of being Transgendered unless they have LIVED it. No one will understand it unless they have witnessed it in their own lives, or gone through the judgement of something in which you have no control. Many saying she is no hero. She is not courageous. Well what you may not realize, is she is a hero. Perhaps not a metal of honor or a survivor of a battle, but a hero to others who aspire to be like her. To the Transgender Community. You see, there are many levels of courage. It all depends on who is looking at it. Not saying that soldiers arent courageous, dont get me wrong! They have a lot of courage and guts, and I know it takes a lot of heart, soul and dedication to be a soldier in war.

    But no matter what they do they'll always be considered a hero. Transgenders.....no matter what we do, we're freaks and outcasts. A soldier can wear his uniform in public and get handshakes and appreciation. Transgenders get beat up and pointed at and parents shooing their kids away. Suffering names like "tranny" and "fa**ot" and countless other things. We cannot even use the correct bathrooms, or ANY public bathroom, without ridicule and heart breaking judgement. Just...you know....just saying. I know you're gonna say "well soldiers die for their country" and I agree with that fact, though I may not agree with the reasons for them to give their lives, but nevertheless I agree that its tragic. But transgenders also die... Maybe not for their country, maybe not in uniforms, and maybe not with honor. But for their lack of identity and ability to be who they truely are. They commit suicide from abandonment of their families and friends. Because the mental turmoil and cruelty they endure is just as big of a battle as one overseas. And if they dont commit suicide...they're sometimes even murdered. For being alive.... Just food for thought.
     
    Warren
  9. WarrenG
    So, I'm kind of at a loss and need some advice or something, though I'm sure others here have way bigger issues than I do right now.
    I have a friend whom I have been friends with for just over a year. In the beginning, we were great friends and she helped me out a lot with my transition and acceptance and etc. But ever since my downward spiral, it's gotten.....weird.
    Originally, we'd planned that I would fly out to her state and hang out for a week (mind you, I'm on the east coast and shes all the way on the west). I admitted that I werent completely comfortable flying (due to anxiety and claustrophobia and never having flown before) so I'd probably have my boyfriend come with me. She expressed that she didnt like the idea, would feel like a third wheel, and I would not be allowed to stay at her house and would need to find my own transportation and hotel. Ouch.

    During this time, I hit a horrible depression and was deep deep into self harm and whatnot, and I just could not handle drama so I told her I needed to step away. At which point I had deactivated my facebook. THE NEXT DAY she's messaging almost all my friends to 'go check on me' and making them think that I had killed myself. WTF!? I woke up to 30 messages from frantic people thinking I was dead. Geez, thanks. That helps the stress level squint emoticon  She's constantly reminding me that she's still planning for me to come out west, Or she will come to my state instead which I'm not comfortable with. Everyone I talk to about my issues with her say she sounds like a jealous girlfriend. Meanwhile she always complains that she misses 'the old you' (meaning texting every day, happy, jolly, fake-love and happiness 24/7 which was all an act to make her think i was fine) and that I dont seem to care about her things anymore. And let's be honest here, I'm SICK AND TIRED of CONSTANTLY hearing 'im fat. I'm ugly. No one wants me. No guy will ever date me. I'm stupid. I'm fugly'. And there are only so many times I can say "no you're not, dont say that" before I just dont fucking care to respond anymore. I know that's sort of asshole-ish of me but ffs....it gets really really old. Every single time we talk, to me, it feels like we're fighting. But she insists we're not fighting, we're 'talking'. >.> omfg......I make a post complaining about drama and that I was going to bed, and she sends a message going 'didnt realize I was causing the drama.....". BI***, DID I SAY YOUR NAME?! DID I TAG YOU IN IT!? NO! SUCK IT UP, ITS NOT ABOUT YOU.
    And when I mention that the constant self pity and whining and crap gets old and that's why I dont respond much anymore (because she gets pissy when I go quiet and so she leaves the convo) she then throws my depression-inflicted complaints back in my face. I cannot help but feel slightly depressed, stressed and aggrivated after ever convo we have. I just......I dont know what to do. I've tried to break it off but she goes bonkers and cries and tells everyone I hate her and goes into a depressive funk until her sister messages me and begs me to talk to her because she starts "crying every night". Idk wtf to do....she still calls me her brother and crap and idk how to confront the situation. 
    On top of that--when I asked her "just to be clear...you only think of me as a brother right?" and she responds with "um........yes". Which to me doesnt sound convincing. Which she follows up with "Can I ask a question? Do you think I'd be good girlfriend material?" o.e like.....what? What in the what---I just--cant---process.....
    Halp......
     
    I've been warned that she's a stalker in the making but I know she's not. She is not a stalker by any means, and is 100000% incapable of harming me or anyone, and I'm NOT worried about her ever being anything situational. Dont get me wrong, I love her. Love her like crazy as a sister, and I care about her. But I just cannot take the stress anymore....I dont know what to do. In the back of my mind I know that she is 100% straight and KNOWS that I'm female from the waist down, so I shouldnt worry about her having a hidden crush on me or something. But some days I really legit' wonder if that's true or not. I dont want to hurt her feelings, anymore than I already have. But it seems like I'm hurting her ever single time we talk.
     
    She does this "acting" thing where she will act out a non-existant part in a tv show. The 'character' has a name, background, etc. Which normally would be harmless. I mean, hell, I 'act' when I'm thinking up scenes for my books but it's only facial expressions, talking to myself in-character and whatnot. She's legit throwing herself around the livingroom as if in a fight scene and actually getting hurt doing it. She's messaged several times about having cut her foot on something or banged her arm or hit her head on something while "acting". Frankly I'm concerned, but she sees no harm in it. I want her to see a therapist and talk to someone but she refuses. I dont know what to do, guys....
     
    Frustrated and At wit's end,
    Warren
  10. WarrenG
    Whats all ya'll, hows it going? Not too much going on over here, pretty uneventful which is pretty good considering what could be going on  Though I'll admit that this week has been pretty harsh on me for somewhat unreasonable reasons. Death of celebreties usually ends up being over publisized and over thought of and etc, and a lot of people just get so sick and tired of hearing about a star who passed away. But to people like me, who never really attached themselves to people near them and instead bonded to people on the screen as their imaginary family, hearing about these things can be very upsetting. The day Robin Williams died, I probably cried for three days straight. When my father passed away, Robin Williams was my rock. He was my world, and he kept me from self harming so many many times that when he died, a part of me died. Knowing that he'd comitted suicide also was a huge kick in the face, knowing that a man who helped so many many people somehow forgot to help himself in the process...I'm not over it. I'm still not over it. Robin Williams meant so much to me, even if we never met. To this day, I still cannot watch any films with him in it. It just hurts too much....
    Heath Ledger, a man who taught me courage and probably the first person I ever had a crush on. A man who I admired greatly and memorized all of his lines for almost all his movies, capturing his audience in all that he did. Especially when he took the bravery of taking on a role in Brokeback Mountain, which was a huge thump in my heart considering I was battling with my own sexuality...Seeing that he voiced his opinion about it, that it was NOTHING to be afraid or ashamed of....as odd as it sounds, it helped. He was like a big brother to me.
    And now..David Bowie and Alan Rickman. David Bowie always made me feel good. A huge LGBT Advocate and shameless spokesperson, not to mention a brilliant artist and actor. And the most haunting part is that when I was reading on my phone that David Bowie had passed away, I was at work on break and started to cry. And what made me stop crying and stare in shock and admiration, was that in that instant--my ipod (which was on shuffle) went to David Bowie's song "Within you".To this day, it gives me chills. I know I will always miss him greatly, but it is a different kind of sadness. I know he was suffering from cancer, and that he can now be happy and free. He's probably having the best possible time up there, jamming with Freddie Mercury. I'm happy that he's been set free at last, but sad by his departure. And now, Alan Rickman has passed away from cancer as well. A man I always looked up to as an uncle. An extremely misunderstood Professor Snape (Harry Potter). A very sad and lonely Elliot Martson(Quigly Down Under). A greedy but loveable Judge Turpin (Sweeney Todd) .A robber, a villian, a hero--the roles are endless. 
    Justin caught hold of something interesting though. Alan Rickman died at 69 years old to Cancer, a few days after his birthday.. David Bowie at 69 years old to Cancer, a few days after his birthday. Lemmy from Motorhead at 70 years old, also to Cancer. It's nothing too phenominon, but it certainly caught our attention. Bad news always comes in threes. I hope this is true, and that we're finished with such bad news so early in the year...at least for a while. My heart aches for their families and fans..
    That's all for now. I have another subject I'd like to talk about, but I'll put it in a seperate posting.
    Your bud,
    Ren
     



     
  11. WarrenG
    I havent blogged in a little bit...Mostly due to being sick, really. I took on several extra shifts for my boss because she came down with a flu-like sickness (which is sadly going around.) and now it seems like I got it. Thankfully it's gotten better over the past few days with some help from bedrest and Ginger Ale. And of course, binge watching Supernatural. Almost 2 seasons in the course of 3 days  
    But with the new year starting out and my new insurance starting in Feburary, on comes a new(er) anxiety that's been bugging me like a mad dog in the back room. Surgery. I want it done this year. I need it done this year. At this point, I cant even tie my own  shoes without nearly passing out from suffocation. It's just so damn hard to do daily life things with these......unbarable bags of yuck on my chest. I feel like my chest is under there, under the disgusting lumps--I just cant touch or see it. So now I have to go through the anxiety all over again of applying to have it approved and covered....or potentially declined. Again.
     
    Plus putting up a post about being sick and someone told me to "go P on a stick lol"  I know she wasnt trying to be mean, but you DONT say that to a transguy. That is legit the worst case scenario that instantly put me into an anxiety attack and made me feel sick. I dont think I'd be able to handle it if it was true...I think I'd rather die than have kids.
    And honestly....I'm really sick of people telling me not to get my hopes too high, because it only makes me feel worse and less optimistic. Like I'm legit applying and the only possible outcome is denial. I'm starting to feel that overwhelming sense of depression all over again just thinking about being denied once more. Shoved aside and told to "deal with it" And then to add insult to injury, my GoFundMe page.
    I was shown a page (to laugh at) of a girl who has a gofundme page to remove a damn 420 (marijuana reference) tattoo from her damn forehead. She's been given over 1k$ in THREE DAYS!!!!!!!! And the comments below expose the fact that she's done this three times for the same cause, used all the money and never got the tattoo removed and starting all over again afterwards! Like----WHAT?! I've had my gofundme for a year with only 150$ and it's for a legit problem, and this scamming twit has over 1k$ just HANDED to her!? Ridiculous......
    I cant go another year like this...I really cant. I feel like it's legit killing me. I cant breathe. I cant function. I cant work out, I cant go for walks because I cant breathe---I cant keep living like this. I'm to that mindset that if they dont do it for me, I'll mutilate myself to the point where they wont have a choice but help. I cant keep this up...I really cant. At this point I would have normally turned to cutting already, but I've so far only had one episode and I instantly regretted it and didnt do nearly as much damage as I normally would have....
     
    Then I have the added problem of friendship issues. Alex has become really good friends with her, and I've gotten further away. I knew she was going to ask me to roleplay. And I just....dont want to anymore. I dont want to roleplay with anyone. I just cant keep trying to put myself in a fantasy land when I have way too much stuff going on in real life. I just dont have the imagination for it anymore. But she asked anyway when we barely started to talking again. Hardly gave me time to get used to talking again before she popped the question. Kind of ruined my want to talk to anyone. All my RP friends do the same thing. As if the only interesting thing about me was my roleplay, and since I dont RP now, they dont know what to do with me. Geez...thanks...I know she didnt do it to be mean but geez....let me breathe for a few weeks before trying to pull me back into normality....But I let Alex and whoever talk to her whenever they want. I've NEVER told them no. But she asks about me which I understand, and I had the opportunity to come and say hi while I was out, so I did.
    I got the "Warren" instead of "Ren" again. And it's not the first time. She's been doing it a lot, calling me Warren instead of Ren. To me, coming from her, that just feels extremely non-personal. She keeps trying to call me "storbror" which was sort of our thing when I was "normal" but I'm not comfortable with it anymore and I told her I wont be doing pet names anymore. But she still does it  Anyway, I said "You know you can call me Ren right?" and she just replies with "Yes, I know."....Uh...ok? So I asked if that was a desensitizing thing. That every time I say hi, it's Warren not Ren an it felt like she's trying to unfamiliarize herself with me. And she just....blows up.
    "Um, no. First off, I talk to Alex, Milo and Abby (So?). You've been quiet today and I've been talking to alex all day. I was just making sure it was you (so there's others named Ren? Dont think so....) And you're such a liar. Whenever I talk to you its Storbror or babe. So dont even start with me." 
    Then it goes to the whole "you always jump own my throat when I'm wrong, even if I'm not, but somehow you're a saint" type thing. Wow. Thanks. I ask a question and I'm automatically the bad guy....TOTALLY  makes me want to  say Hi more often...I'm just..I'm so done trying to---I dont know, try. Every time I do, she gets pissy about something I said or did. I'm just  tired of being the bad guy. Alex or whoever wants to stay friends with her, fine. Whatever. But why is it that every time I walk away and say I'm done, I somehow always go back? I dont like fighting with her all the time and I legit do. And either she admits it or not, it is NOT always brought on by me. I dont know, I guess I'm just ranting. It's nice knowing someone here is actually listening to what I'm saying, even if there arent comments. I'm just tired of talking to walls...
    It feels like I have no one to talk to anymore.
    Most (if not all) my friends know I exist but dont acknowledge it. Plus any friends I did have, Alex or Abby now has, an I've been forgotten. Theyre more interesting or more talented or something and I get pushed to the side. Always do...I've considered just letting one of them out full time an saying [the heck with it], I'm out. Abby can do whatever the hell she wants, grow out my hair and be the chick my boyfriend wants. I just cant deal with it much longer...I cant even commit suicide because I'd be taking them out with me. Why would I deprive everyone else of their friends? I honestly have no 'want' left in me....
    -The less interesting brother
  12. WarrenG
    So...
    Insurance said no. For the fifth time.
    My favorite beach is closed.
    My birthday plans have been cancelled.
    And I literally cant think of many reasons why I should even bother to keep trying.
    Please dont message or comment with 'keep your chin up' or 'keep trying' because that literally only ticks me off.
    Ren.
     
  13. WarrenG
    Anyone miss me? Yeah, me either. You havent missed much but I figured I'd post an entry just so people dont think I died or something. Not sure if I'm even relevant anymore but, yeah.
    So here's an update.
    No surgery. No responses from insurance, no responses from GLAAD or any of the LGBTQ+ Advocates for NH nor anyone else I wrote to. No one seems to give a flip and that doesnt really surprise me...
    I'm still dealing with the MPD stuff, all eight of the obnoxious whiners -,_,- My life in a nutshell.
    I still dont have the money saved up. I barely have 600$ saved up and my hours got cut for the summer season. I work the bar and get tips but guess how much I got in tips tonight after 8 hours in a hot bar? .....$0.50...
    Last week? $1.00
    My surgery is going no where and my thyroid problem has gotten more annoying. Normally people are on 50mg, I'm on 260mg and it hasnt helped at all and my levels havent balanced out. I dont get it...
    I'm back on my Youtube channel though I feel like no one watches it anyway.
    Anyhow, here's links to the Youtube and the facebook group page. If you feel like it, go stare at my randomness and maybe poke a few buttons.
    Button poking is fun.
    (https://www.facebook.com/DubstepHeartbeatYouTube/?fref=ts)

    (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8FWRfZBHaU46LzyhAJoL7A)
     
    -Warren

     
    BottomNote:
    Met a fellow LGBTQ+ person when I went to an Orlando Vigil in NH (vid on my channel), and he was awesome and helped me feel better about myself.

  14. 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
  15. WarrenG
    So this is my first time with this...First time even blogging, actually. At the current moment I am several hours overdue to go to bed before a trip back north to see my mother, and perhaps this is why I have finally convinced myself to perhaps seek some guidance and support from others 'like me'. I say that as if I'm damaged cans at a grocery store..that's rather shameful I suppose.
    So, a little about myself I guess? I'm 22 years old, I love horseback riding and enjoy writing in my own books, IMVU, and cooking. Oh yeah, and I'm transgendered? I think. I'm not entirely sure what you would consider it yet.
    I were born genetically female, but always knew I werent. I remember the first vivid time when I realized it was what I wanted and needed, I were probably 6 or 7. That was the first time I realized that there was something strange going on, and wondered 'what if I magically just POOF turned into a boy?'. I got excited to that notion. Till I were informed that it were impossible.

    I went several years denying myself the possibility until I discovered that yes, it IS possible to change myself to suit how I saw myself. I were so excited, but my family were not the sort of people I felt comfortable talking to about it. So I kept it bottled up, sending subtle and ignored hints. Soon after I decided to do something about it, I met my boyfriend, now of four years. I did not tell him about my intentions or thoughts, hoping that perhaps actual dating would cause these feelings to go away. Like a phase, perhaps. But they didnt. They got worse, and I finally broke down and told him.
    He's accepting, and is trying to understand and help me. But I see the look in his eyes....

    I'm now drowning in antidepressants and meds for my anxiety disorder, yet still have found myself miserable. I avoid mirrors, cringe when people call me by my born gender, and curl up in a corner when I realize that I have no way of fixing it yet. I cannot start a transition on the outside because not only do I have no idea where to start, but who do I turn to? I finally told my doctor, and she has been kind about it, and has tried to look for someone to help me out. But, I have to wait. She said it could be until the end of the year before I even hear anything.....this is agonizing. Is it possible to absolutely despise your appearance so badly that you imagine changing it yourself even if it could be life threatening?
    I've had several days where I've wanted to find a sharp enough knife, and "take care" of my "problem" areas. But, for natural and sane reasons, this has never gone farther than rather gross mental images.

    I'm at a loss. I dont know where to turn. I have one transgendered friend, but she is across the country, and though i greatly value her opinions and support, its slightly different. I seek help from a fellow FTM, and she's MTF. So sometimes I fear that what she knows is going to be the opposite of what I actually need.
    Anyway, I'm rambling now. Guess thats what happens when you decide to blog at 2o'clock in the morning
    -Warren
  16. 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
  17. WarrenG
    So halloween went epic as ever
    One of the challenges I faced as a (attempting) FTM is costumes...Sadly many costumes are gender based or seperated. Originally I were trying to go for the werewolf look, but it turned out to be a zombie from The Walking Dead. Either one was fine with me

    I was one of the only ones who dressed up at work, and must say that I put the most work into mine.
    One person was a Professor from Hogwarts and she looked really cool, another was a nurse, and the head manager as an RN. The two deli girls were "Deli Witches" which looked really awesome
    Then there was me lol First time I've actually had people take pictures of me.

    I went with a plain plaid button up shirt, with my compression shirt and such underneath, which actually worked perfectly. Loved it. Jeans, of course, for my pants. And my steel toe boots
    In all, it was pretty much GenderLess. And I liked it
    When it comes to costumes and being transgendered or whatever, you just have to be comfortable.
    It doesnt matter what other people think about it, you're supposed to be having fun!
    It was refreshing to have some fun at work and not have to worry about all the B.S. that I've had to deal with lately.
    When one of the other guys showed up for work (A student from Israel, hes a bit new to Halloween and LOVES IT) he was a bit disappointed, not knowing that he could have dressed up for the night.
    Thankfully, for whatever reason, I had taken all my makeup and fake blood to work with me.
    When I told him that I'd turn him into a zombie, he got so excited!
    And I gotta say, his face makeup almost looked better than mine
    I was so happy for him lol he loved it! He walked around all night playing zombie to his friends. I think I created another Halloween Fanatic!

    At the end of the night, he were talking about wanting to go to a Halloween party later that night with his new getup, so I gave him my bottle of fake blood to touch up his look later as he needed as long as he gave it back on monday. Not like I were going to use it anyway
    So I left with a backpack full of cupcakes (mint, orange and strawberry) and a TON of snickers, milkyway, twix, kitkats, reeses and pixie sticks. So much for my diet
    The zombies were having fun, the parties had just begun, but I had to head home. Nevertheless, it was a graveyard smash

    I love halloween....Makes me feel so much better.
    Groaning and Moaning my Zombie tush to my room to chill out,
    -Warren
  18. WarrenG
    Today is tuesday, and as some of you know, tuesday is my therapy day. The day I suck up my blahness, climb out of bed, and go sit and chitchat with my therapist about...basically everything and anything.
    But this time, I broke down after I left her office. I sat in my car, gripped the steeringwheel and attempted to get a grip on myself, before finally breaking down and bawling my pathetic eyes out.
    I feel like she gave up on me already.

    I were originally instructed to see a therapist for my anxiety and depression problems, but mostly for being transgendered. I admitted to my therapist that I think my self harm, depression, and anxiety are all linked and rooted strongly to my identity issues. I strongly believe that if I were able to truely be Warren, I'd be better off. Happier. Healthier.
    On the paperwork when I originally signed up to go to therapy, they'd asked me "What do you expect/hope to get out of therapy? What is your end goal?"
    Honestly, I didnt know. I still dont. I'd left it blank because of that reason.
    But today she put down her notebook and looked me dead in the eye.
    "I'm going to be honest and frank with you," she said. Instantly I knew something was up.
    "Until you can decide what it is that you want, I dont see a point in you even coming here. You dont know where you're going, you dont have a goal in mind, then I dont know what I'm supposed to do to guide you to it. Until you decide what it is you expect or want out of therapy sessions, it's going to do you no good. Think about it over the week until I see you again"
    And that was it. Nothing more. We were done.

    Dont get me wrong, shes probably right. But I cant help but feel like she was throwing her hands up in surrender and saying "You cant figure out your own problems then I cant be your solution".
    I made next week's appointment on the way out, but honestly I felt numb as I did it. Just nodded and said 'see you later'.
    I dont want to go back.
    I dont know what I want, damn it! That's why I was going, to get help! I know I dont want to be what I am right now, isnt that clue enough for her to help me figure things out?
    To be honest, I'm tempted to just call them back and cancel the appointment and not go back. I feel like theyve given up on me already...it's only been the second session, and she throws that at me. When I've finally broken down in front of her and teared up because I'm frustrated with staying hidden.
    She said so herself, that it seems more like in terms of life, I've secluded myself. So why the hell would you back out and leave me secluded instead of trying to draw me out?!
    I dont know what to do about the situation.
    Advice or opinions welcomed.

    Frustrated as hell,
    Warren
  19. WarrenG
    As you all know, tomorrow is thanksgiving, and like most of you I have a few things that need to get done. Obviously.
    This year I'm going to my boyfriend's family's get together in an Inn at the top of a mountain. We've been there for last year's gathering and I'll admit, it's gorgeous and the view is absolutely the best (I'll post pictures when I can!)
    But this year is going to be different for me, personally. Last year I were still enduring the dressy clothes and makeup and doing my hair and whatnot. But this year....I've had enough of it.
    True I'll put a nice shirt on, but it's not going to be from my girl drawers. True I'll make my hair look good, but simply with a slight combing and some mousse, no pins or hairbands or pretty bows.
    I wont be wearing makeup, and I wont be trying to look as girly as I can stand.
    This year I'm not going as Kristy, I'm going as Warren. And all though they dont really know whats going on yet, and of course I'll still be called by my birthname since they dont know any better...I refuse to endure one more year of trying to fit the part of someone I'm not.

    So, with this whole realization of courage and stubbornness...comes the anxiety. I know they're going to be staring at me, whispering comments, asking my boyfriend's mom "Whats going on with her?"
    His family is known to be judgemental gossipers, so I know this will go smoothly until they start to whisper amongst themselves. Although I'll probably just find a nice corner to sit in with my tiny plate of food I probably wont even finish, at least I can say I went.
    This year everyone was asked to bring one thing, and we were asked to bring two gallons of milk. But reality says NO ONE is going to drink TWO gallons of milk, so I improvised. We'll bring ONE thing of milk, and I'm bringing a dish.
    One thing I've pleasantly mastered at work is pasta salads, and this year I'm going to make my Nana's Autumn Pasta Salad. It's pretty easy, and nice and crisp if you love flavor
    I'll let you guys know how it went, and hope you all have a good holiday

    Your buddy in Plaid,
    Warren





    NANA'S AUTUMN SALAD
    -Boil some pasta (any kind you want. Bowties or elbows or shells work the best. Throw in some veggie pasta for color!) (MAKE SURE ITS COLD WHEN YOU MAKE THE SALAD)
    -Mayo
    -Cranberry sauce
    -craisins
    -raisins
    -apples (golden delicious or granny smith are the best. peel and chop into cubes)
    -pecans (crush or chop em up)
    -Cucumbers (I like to peel them 100%, cut in half lengthwise, and take a spoon and scoop out all the seeds so its not so mushy and slimy, then cut the halves into small cubes)
    -FRESH parsley (dried has next to NO flavor and you want the pretty green color in it)

    Basically, boil up your pasta to your liking. In a bowl, mix up half a can of cranberry sauce with an equal amount of mayo & mix it well. (Cran-mayo is also great for turkey sandwiches or on other pasta dishes!) toss in a handful of your apples, pecans, cucumbers, raisins, and craisins. Mix well.
    Mix it up with your pasta, THEN mix in your chopped up parsley. Let it sit for a bit to absorb the flavor and voila, Nana Gates' Autumn Salad ;)
  20. WarrenG
    Since I am more able to express/explain myself on paper or online, I decided that since I'll be in town that I should get my butt in gear and suck up my pride.
    So, I did research. I wrote emails. And...I wrote a letter to my therapist.
    I'm gonna share it, since I figured it might give others ideas, and hopefully what I did was right.

    "Dear _____,
    I hope your Thanksgiving went well and you didnt get buried in all the snow. I talked to a few online friends about my last visit with you, and decided it would be best to write things down rather than forget or lose my nerve later.
    I'll admit the realization of "without a goal, there is no destination" stung a bit, and instinctivaly as if I were being given up on. I have little to no clue what I ultimatly want/need, and I felt lost and hopeless without having valid reasons for visits aside from simply someone to talk to.
    Sometimes I have a hard time verbally expressing whats going on in my mind and it hinders my trail of rational thought.
    So my first thought were simply "Even she isnt sure how to help me, I cant even help myself"

    So, in short I've done A LOT of thinking; and having these few days off work is helping. I've come down to a few goals I'd like to work out.
    1-Manage my anxiety
    2-Stop selfharm
    3-Be a happier person
    (4)- Be Me.
    Fully transition into my proper gender, and live life as who I am. If it costs me my relationship, I'll need to learn to accept that. I have contacted ______ via email in regards to cost, regulations, and state requirements for my double incision bilateral mastectomy, and am awaiting a reply.

    Battle plan:
    1-Get serious! More research, and be more confident and less reserved.
    2-If needed, see a surgeon for estimates
    3-Start hormones if needed
    4-Surgery!!!!!!
    5-Live the full lifestyle 3 years
    6-Change name
    7-Just be happy!

    I dont like being miserable. But I cant be happy by waiting on my butt for things to change.
    "Be the change you want to see in the world" Gandhi
    I'll still need help, I'm not foolish enough to think that I can do it alone. But sometimes I might need to be reminded that I need to act or nothing is going to change.
    I'm not ready to give up yet, and I hope you arent ready to give up on me either.
    See you Tuesday,
    _____"

    So I'll fold it neatly. I'll put it in an envelope, and I'll drop it off at the office on my way to the bank. She'll have it on-hand, she can read it, and come up with her own battle plan by the time our visit comes up.
    Wish me luck,
    Warren
  21. WarrenG
    Tuesday, Again.
    By now you've figured out (most likely) that Tuesday is my Therapy day.
    I'll be honest that therapy has not been as horrible as I had imagined it to be, and honestly it kind of feels good to sit there and just talk. We dont even have to talk about anything important, really. But knowing that what I say wont really leave her office, and we're by ourselves...it allows me to open up and talk freely. It's really nice, and I end up leaving with a weight off my shoulders.

    Not saying I didnt freak out, trust me! If you look back on my previous blogs, you'll see me freaking out like a four year old at a crazy circus show at midnight. But really, its not so bad. So far, anyway.
    In regards to the letter I had left for my therapist (if you dont know about it, go to my previous blog post ) the office were closed the day that I went to drop it off. So I had to wait, agonizingly, for monday to arrive so I could drop it off before work.
    Thankfully the receptionist were on the phone when I set it on her desk, so I didnt even have to explain it. I just set it down, wove goodbye, and hightailed it out of there.
    I were nervous, sure! Wondering if she'd be angry with me, or offended, or just simply throw her hands up and quit.

    So when I showed up today, she were standing there waiting for me, all ready to go.
    First thing she did when she shut the door, was hold up the letter.
    But she didnt frown, she didnt glare. She smiled.
    "First off, thank you for the letter. I WANT to know what you're feeling, even if you cant put it into words verbally. If you're more comfortable to write it down at a later time and leave it at the office for me, by all means, I encourage you to do so"
    We talked about what was in the letter, and she apologized for how I felt when I left last week, but noted that even though it hurt, it got my butt in gear and rearing to go and get more information to get this started officially.
    She's right, I'll admit. It made me angry, but it got me moving.
    We discussed things to do, and I'm still waiting to hear from the hospital/plastic surgeons about my questions regarding my double incision bilateral mastectomy. They wanted to talk to me on the phone, but like a dummy, I've lost my cellphone for the hundredth time!
    So I'm trying to get them to just do it through email, even if its not convenient for them, I can still provide any and all info they need that way.
    Wish me luck on that!
    I might see if I can convince my boyfriend to let me buy a proper binder next week, after we get our paychecks from work. Hopefully, because since I've lost a bit of weight, the shirts I have now dont really do too much.
    And I finally found the tag on the darn thing. It's not a binder in any way, shape or form. It's a men's support shirt, basically just for back support or work outs or after surgery. It does okay for right now, but not as well as I'd like. So, we'll see on that.

    I do apologize for not blogging lately, I've simply been crazy busy and the snow is starting to pile up around my house! We've got all the decoration blowups outside set up, the shovels taken down, and the winter boots pulled out. Overnight, we got a foot of snow, and there's more on its way.
    Welcome to New England!!
    I'll blog again soon, but have patience with me

    Your Dear Friend,
    Warren

    P.S.
    My therapist says HELLO INTERNET SUPPORT!!! She's very glad that you're all here to support me as I support you all right back. Like one big, distant, happy family <3
  22. WarrenG
    So today I made very slight progress, though it put me in a bad mood all day and made things very disappointing.
    After exchanging very brief emails with the plastic surgeon center at the nearest large hospital in my area, I finally decided to call them and get a quick estimate on what I'd be looking at for a top surgery plus anything else that may or may not be required.
    To be honest, I'm not sure exactly what I was hoping for.
    It's not like they'd start giggling like the littlest elf and offer free surgery and tell me to show up tomorrow.
    Though that would be epic...
    But, alas, miracles dont happen every day.
    I were greeted by a rather friendly young woman named Alice, though she werent my alice in wonderland.
    She didnt have the greatest of news for me either.
    My Double Incision Bilateral Mastectomy will cost me an estimated grand total of 8,000$.
    Right now I have saved up....600$....
    Before I can even go in for consultation about the surgery, I'm required by the state to see a phsycologist, which my insurance probably wont even cover.

    They offered me a "care card" which is basically a credit card that they can charge it all to that I pay off later...but with a lot of interest and growth interest. Meaning the longer it takes me to pay it off, the bigger the bill gets. Gee...thanks....
    So my next phonecall was to my doctor to inform her that I self-changed one of my medications because it was giving me horrible side effects, but she insists that I come see her this friday.
    Not only because of that...but they're considering putting me on testosterone hormone treatment.
    Part of me is like HELLZ YES!!!!
    But....who wants to grow facial hair and possibly body hair and start looking masculine....while still enduring the embarrassment of 44DDs? No one, that's who. And certainly not me!
    I dont want to walk around with a 5oclock shadow and chest fuzzies while still trying to sort out my "tumor issue".
    I hate how I look as it is, that is not going to help!
    On the other hand, I'm excited for a deeper voice, for my body's reshaping into it's male form, and certainly for a less girly face. As a girl I look my proper age. But if I were to pass off as a boy, I look thirteen, not twenty two.

    Anyway....next call: Insurance.
    What do you and do you not cover in terms of surgery?
    Well, I got a woman who could barely speak english. But the answer I got was basically "nothing".
    I have a 500$ deductable, and 5000$ OUT OF POCKET.
    Granted 5,000$ is better than 8000$ but....I can barely pay my bills as it is....theres no way I can do that right now...or even next year.
    So you can see why I was depressed all day. I'm tired of waiting. I dont want to wait until next year, or the year after, or the year after. I want these GONE.

    On top of that...
    I think my boyfriend and I just officially decided to be roommates in the future. And that's it. Nothing more.
    Blah.....
    But here's the GOOD NEWS:
    I'm trying to go sober again! From cutting, I mean. I'm not much of a drinker
    I got a sudden slap to the face while browsing the infamous youtube last night, and stumbled on a video out of no where.
    "Let me tell you something you already know.The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!
    Now if you know what you're worth, then go on and get what you're worth! But you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you aint who you wanna be because of him or her or anybody! Cowards do that and that aint you! You're better than that! I'm always gonna love you no matter what. No matter what happens, you're my son, you're my blood. You're the best thing in my life. But until you start believing in yourself, you aint gonna have a life." Rocky Balboa

    I grew up watching rocky with my dad up until he died when I was eight in a tractor trailer truck accident. After his passing, I couldnt watch it anymore because I'd always think of my dad and break down in tears. My dad was my everything. My whole world, my hero, my knight in shining armor.
    Because my dad was my Rocky Balboa.
    But that quote came to my ears and it made me cry. Hell I'm not ashamed of it, it made me bawl like a damn baby. Because at this particular point in my life...I needed that. I needed those words and it picked me up and brushed me off and said "damn it, your father dont want this for you, put that stupid blade down and get up off your knees!"
    My dad doesnt want me to sit in the corner and wave a white flag. He'd want me to brush off my shoulders, put my boxing gloves back on, and prove to them that I can do it. Because I can.
    So damn it, I'm gonna try.
    Not just for my Dad, but for me.

    I just hope I can K.O. my own doubt before the bell rings.
    Warren
  23. WarrenG
    SO, Long time no see lol Sadly I've not had the chance to upload any youtube videos but I'm hoping to do that tomorrow while I have the day off. Oh yeah, the day off....I LOVE MY JOB.
    So far the people I work with have been INSANELY AWESOME. They're so laid back and cool, and I love it. I started my first short-night last night with helping at the bar of the academy (yeah i know what you're thinking. A bar? At a school? But during the summer we host scientists and adults so they get drinking nights lol) and it was awesome. Everyone's so friendly and cool! I did talk to my boss (starr) about being transgender, and she assured me that it was NO problem, and to correct her if she ever uses the wrong pronouns. She's been super awesome about it and I am so super super grateful for it.
    The dress code doesnt exist, so it allows me to wear whatever is comfortable which is a huge plus. Cellphones are allowed as long as its not obsessive, which is totally awesome because I'm not comfortable with being out that late at night without some way of calling for help if I needed it. My shifts are going to be on the third shift, which I'm oddly perfectly fine with. Granted I sort of miss my boyfriend, but we'll make it work. Last night I worked from 9pm until around 130am, which was a lot shorter than what my usual hours will be but I was only training for the bar. I even did such a good job keeping up and getting in the hang of it, that they offered me to come back tonight as well which I agreed to do.
    Right now I'm sort of bummed on the other hand, and extremely frustrated with waiting for my top surgery. I mentioned in a transgender Facebook group that I'm in that as awesome as it is to see everyone getting their top surgeries and everything, that I'm also sort of bummed out to see it. I in no way meant it as a "stop posting your surgery things" but more as a "I'd love some support right now". But in the end they turned it around to where I'm the bad guy for saying it. In another group that is made JUST for top surgery related issues, I posted my gofundme page as I am fully allowed to do, and got bullied for it. It totally made my depressed mood even worse.
    The man responded to my post with "Sure. I'll do that right after I've saved up every single spare penny I've found to fund my own damn surgery" and it sort of hurt. I said "thanks for the sarcasm and making my shitty night that much more shitty" to which he responded with "Dude, everyone here is going through the same struggle as you are to raise money for their surgeries. posting your little whiney 'give me money' page on a page where guys struggle every day isnt helping anyone. I could say the same to you. thanks for making my day shitty by reminding me that i still dont have money for surgery. Stop whining and grow up and stop begging, you're pathetic"
    Honestly, I dont like having a gofundme. I feel like I'm begging. But that just made me feel so much more worse and honestly almost drove me to self harm, but I were able to avoid it and just ended up curling up in bed later. Though there were a few other guys who defended me and the rude comments had been deleted, and an admin even stepped in to say that I AM allowed to post my gofundme and I did nothing wrong....it still made me feel like crap.
    My once 36D chest (4 yrs ago) is now a painful 44DDD and it hurts...I cant hardly bind anymore. My ribs are killing me. Breathing is agony, and my back aches horrible. Especially when I take my binder off at night because it's been so tight and constricting. But I cant do anything without it...I'm so lost. I cant afford my surgery and its looking like no companies will help me cover it. I'm so disappointed
     
    Trying to stay positive,
    Warren
     
    SIDENOTE:
    So I can legally change the gender on my license with a note from my doctor which I did. But to change it on my Social Security, I need an amended birth certificate or bottom surgery proof? Wtf kind of crap is that? 0.o So to some paperwork I'll be a guy and to others I'll be a girl. Yeah, that totally makes life easy  systems' screwed up, man....
  24. WarrenG
    Well theres good parts and of course, bad parts, to life in general.
    It started out where a lot of stress comes from in any average american, regardless of sexuality, gender, or lifestyle.
    Your workplace.
    My mind was deadset and my plans set, and I walked in with confidence and pride. I wanted my name tag officially changed away from my feminine name and to my male nickname of 'Ren'.
    I was so set on it, I had my whole heart bursting with excitement. One little tiny piece of plastic to wear every day to remind me of who I am, and that no one could take it away from me. That it would be me. Mine.
    Upon requesting a change of nametag, I were told that the H.R. woman would have to ask my supervisor/head chef about it first.
    Confused and seeming a little put off by the notion....he denied my request. That until I get my name legally changed....he refuses to allow me to have my name tag changed. A non-binding piece of plastic...something that would make next to no difference in the world to anyone but me...but he said no.
    Personally, if I may be so bold....it felt more like a personal disapproval on his part rather than professional opinion. Almost like he didnt understand why I wanted my name changed, and when he did....and he realized what was slowly developing between my change of appearance and then to my change of name...its like him saying "Not in my kitchen, you wont."
    It hurt...it STILL hurts.

    Though I am very proud to say that my relationship with my boyfriend has skyrocketed into support and understanding. He fully supports me and is assisting me in legally changing my name, and I'm going to call the courthouse tomorrow to pick up my paperwork and get that started. Not only to support me and make me happier but in spite of OUR boss being negative about the situation, he has decided to start calling me Ren whilest at work, instead of my feminine name.
    It makes me smile and tingle in my heart every time he does, and he started to do so without me even asking it of him. He did it of his own choice, and to me, that's the best and brightest part of it all.


    The Bad Turns:
    I brought my littlest sister home after a month long visit, and it pained my heart so badly to bring her back. I know how my mother treats her, and I know that my oldest sister is the worst offender. But I cannot legally keep her here, and I cant yet finacially support her either. Justin and I are in the process of looking for a two bedroom apartment near us so that we can let her move in with us, but we have to wait impatiently for our taxes to come back, pool it all together, and see what we can do.
    Upon visiting with my family while at my mom's house, I was painfully aware of the little comments and hints my older sister was throwing out. I know she doesnt approve nor understand me being male when she's always known me as a sister. She does this in public as well, and makes a point to loudly call me her sister in front of others to embarrass me or confuse people.
    But that day....I'd had enough. My family and I were discussing name changes, and that my mom and 19 year old brother want to leave their last names for my mom's maiden name. I voiced my opinion that I could never do that, as it is my father's last name, and since his passing away; its the only thing I have left of him. Despite taunting that I get for the last name, I carry it with pride and defend it because not only is it my right, it is my family, my life, and my heritage.
    I said "It's all I have left of dad, and eventually I'm going to legally have his Middle name in his honor". To which my older sister replied "Yeah because you'll never have his gender, no matter what you do." and she laughed about it.
    It stung, and I snapped. I gave Justin the nod to signify that I wanted to leave, and my sister began to scream and yell at me for being a coward and wanting to leave. I dont remember what was said, but there were a lot of tears, a lot of screaming. I gave my mom a hug to let her know that it was between me and my sister and not her fault, and all the kids came to my aid with love and hugs, and I was on my way.

    I bawled my eyes out. Not only because I dont like having those fights, or fighting in general because it pumps up my anxiety....But the fact that my sister's disapproval of who I am had gotten so drastic that she's taken up the full time effort to throw it in my face.
    That's when I also decided...I dont care anymore.
    I'm changing my name. I'm being myself. And frankly.....everyone who disapproves can kiss my ***.
    I'm done pleasing the world.
    My boss will get over it, or I'll go over his head for descrimination. It's an equal opportunity employment and the company prides themselves on diversity for all genders, races, sexualities, nationalities, etc. If he's choosing to go against their open door policy, he'll be in a world of hurt.
    If my sister doesnt approve, she can simply keep talking because I'm no longer listening.

    Even if the world decides to crush me for it, I'll still be a shining, crushed pile of manliness. You wont find a hair tie, pink blouse or skirt on me. If you dont like my boxers, dont look. If you dont like my haircut, dont look. If you dont like the way I talk, act, walk, or be myself....keep walking.
    Because THIS dude dont give a ****.
    I'm done with it.
    I am Warren Renexius Ornan G. And if they dont like it, they can shove it.
    --Warren


    ON A SIDE NOTE:
    Slipped and fell on the ice on my way to my car today, severely sprained my ankle, bruised my shin muscles and bruised my achilles' tendon. Two days off work for me >.<
  25. WarrenG
    So, first off I want to apologize for my last blog post, I apparently was having a bad day/night and needed to vent. I do want to thank everyone for their words of encouragement and assure you that I am less RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWRRRRRR today and more ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz JUST BECAUSE IM THAT BIPOLAR.
    Yup, that is my life.

     
    SO, on another note, it IS Wednesday, and as some of you may know, it is my YOUTUBE POST day. So I have posted my weekly youtube post, and here ya go>>>>
     
     
    or (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y04F-D5GmvU) for those of you that the video doesnt show up on. Just...ya know.....click it. I SAID CLICK IT~!
    Surprised that I have a good handful of subscribers already but who knows? Maybe this was a good idea after all! Gives me something to do anyway.
     
    Otherwise nothing going on. Therapist still wont send me my files, I have to call them AGAIN in about an hour, which leads me to wonder if I even have a file or if she was just bullshitting me the whole time and has NOTHING written down which would annoy me to no end.
    And despite what I have been told, I have decided to stop taking my Zoloft. Not only because I've been off from it for two weeks anyway (headache free, might I add) but because I notice NO DIFFERENCE with taking it versus NOT taking it. I get the same depressing outcome anyway, so.......why add more chemicals to my day if they're not at least beneficial? Seems a waste. ANYWHORE, I'm going out for dinner at Papa Gino's (pizza place) with the bf tonight despite my soul-crushing dysphoria, so wish me luck on that one that I dont have a mental breakdown and shatter some faces
    .
    SIDENOTE: Omagerd I soooooo wanna get some transpride buttons for my backpack or something. I'm not so huge on the tshirts because for whatever reason I almost feel awkward (not embarrassed just.....pass) on wearing my trans pride shirts. Simply because I get a lot of awkward stares or disapproving glares WHICH I KNOW I SHOULD IGNORE but it still gets to me. SO, I think I'll stick to my plaids.
    Havent cut in two-or three- days so I guess that's a plus. Got all my aggrivation out I guess, I dont know.

    STAY AWESOME.
    Warren
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