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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

    Dressing the Part

    By WarrenG,

    When it comes to being transgendered, it's not just an inside confession or a validation of yourself in your own mind, but it's an outward expression. It's a chance to take your gender that you were born with on the outside, and throw it in your trashcan, light that ***** on fire and say "Good Riddance"
    But sometimes it's not as easy to figure out how to do that when it comes to clothes.
    If you spent your life like me, wandering the Girls section at walmart and curling your nose at all the pink and purples around you, it can be a little bit challenging to walk happily into the men's section.

    At first it were overwhelming, and I started out small. Something trivial at first, something that wont make a huge impact on the way I dressed. Yet.
    Boxers.
    I'd spent years suffering the annoyance of women's underwear, never finding anything that I found comfortable and enjoyable. Plus all those annoying, girly patterns irked me so bad!
    So when I finally decided enough was enough and went to get my first pair of boxers, I was as excited as I was to get my driver's permit. What I grabbed (And I recommend highly) is cotton "Fruit of the Loom" boxer briefs with the "No ride up" legs. They've been a miracle in my life, and I've never been so comfortable ever. And finally...NO GIRLY PATTERNS!!!
    Love em. They cost me about 13.00$ at Walmart, which really isnt that bad when you consider that you get about eight of them, and it's slightly more than womens underwear but.....oh the comfort....
    For any first-timers of FTM, I would recommend doing this ALONE.
    You're going to be nervous and excited, and nothing kills that like someone staring over your shoulder.

    Next thing I ditched were womens jeans. SO FRUSTRATING! All the womens jeans fit weird, and they hugged you like spandex, or were stretchy with no cargo pockets;.....ugh.
    Plus, again, those damn patterns >.< Why put designs on my butt?!
    So, going ALONE again, I wandered to the men's. First of all, the sizings are VERY VERY different. Not only in the fact that they're made different, but they're labelled a lot different. Because as it happens, men are a lot less picky on fitting than women
    I greatly recommend taking like four or five pair to the changing room and seeing what you like, fit-wise. It took me about four tries before finding a pair I liked. But I never felt more confident than I did when I ditched my ladies' pants. HALLELUJAH!

    Finally, shirts.
    This one is something I've had difficulty with. I've learned right off the bat that Binders/Compression shirts under T-shirts....they just dont cut it. You can still see your 'lumps' and tshirts hide absolutely NOTHING from the public eye. Sweaters are great, yeah. Hoodies are my thing. I have a bright yellow hoody with a label on the breast/chest of it and it sort of draws the attention away from my chest a little. But in the summer, I just CANT STAND IT. Way too hot!!
    So with some exploring and experimenting, I have discovered the best thing for FTMs is PATTERNS.
    Distracting patterns are the best thing to hide away your chest, I've found. My favorite so far has been plaid patterns. Dark red and black are my favorites, and they hide my chest fairly well if I slouch a little (which is kinda guy-attitude anyway. dont be afraid to slouch a little, only chicks have pinstraight backs all the time )
    Not only are the patterns cool for hiding things, but usually the shortsleeve or longsleeve plaid (Button up ones are best!) shirts can come in A LOT of different colors, and can be either very thin for summer or the thicker ones for wintertime. They're really versatile.

    Jewelry.
    I personally dont wear jewelry (aside from a necklace from my boyfriend, but it hides under my shirts because it is kinda girly) because of an allergy to silver, and white gold is so darn expensive.
    But in terms of jewelry for FTMs, you want to keep it kind of to a minimum. Necklaces are alright to an extent, but nothing super flashy and "Look at me!"
    Rings, limited. Nothing with a ton of designs or petite ones with the stones on them.
    Earrings....well that's sort of obvious. Guys dont usually wear them, and if they do, its just earring studs. Nothing flashy.
    Wristbands are alright, watches are cool, and some people even tend to put those chains from their belts to their wallets. Those are "okay" but sort of fallen out of style, just FYI.
    Shoes are pretty obvious. You dont want to be running around in pink sneakers or high heels.

    Most importantly:
    BE COMFORTABLE!!
    If you're not comfortable in what you're wearing, DONT WEAR IT. You shouldnt have to change your sense of comfort just so you can fit in. The whole point is to feel like yourself, not like you're trying to fit the image of someone else. There are very feminine (some ppl call them 'The Gay Transguys'? From what I was told, dont quote me on that) FTMs who still are very much in touch with their 'girly' side, and that's totally cool!
    Me personally, I'm more of the punk/emo/nerdy guy, so I like the bare basics and nothing over masculine.
    I'm comfortable in my plaid, jeans, and converse sneakers or steel toe work boots. It's different for everyone, I'm just giving out some pointers and hoping to give you some ideas!

    NOW.......BINDERS.
    I'm still struggling with this one, as I'm very new to the scene. BUT.....wrapping yourself in ducttape, ace bandage, or the stretchy bandages...is NOT okay. I know, I really do. You want to hide it, hell some times you want to just cut them off for good despite the pain. But trust me...this is not the way to go. I tried the bandages, and believe me when I say, they hurt. They rub, they leave rashes, they limit your breathing, theyre hot and hold in sweat. Not only that but they are HIGHLY WORTHLESS in terms of actually staying where you need them. Dont even bother.
    Ducttape will rip your skin, leave rashes, damage your ribs, etc. It's even worse than the bandage.

    I know, believe me, I do. That buying something while you're still 'keeping quiet' is NOT easy, and its almost embarrassing. BUT....here's what I did. First, I started out with a website called Underworks. This is what I bought: http://www.underworks.com/cotton-concealer-chest-binder
    I have to say that this product is....'Okay'. It's not what I was originally 'supposed' to buy and isnt really a binder. Like I said, I'm a beginner in this too, so I werent sure what I was even buying.
    But I told my boyfriend I wanted it to help with my backpain, which was a lie, yes, but it worked.
    It does the job well enough, I guess. Better than a Bra anyway!
    It wasnt really cutting it and I was losing weight, so I took another step.
    Compression tank.
    https://www.underarmour.com/en-us/mens-heatgear-sonic-compression-sleeveless/pid1236226-400
    That's what I bought, and I wear that OVER the other top. I know it's NOT a binder, but it works well enough, for now.
    Originally I were wearing it UNDER the other shirt, but it would rub on my underarms and the other shirt would ride up and slip up over my chest, and not work at all. Since I've switched them around, it's worked a lot better. I have both shirts in black, because the white ones are sort of see through when you put them on.
    Not only is the underarmour a good company with great quality stuff, but some (if not most) of their products are HEAT SHEILDED. Meaning all that sweat you get under your shirts will be whisked away, and you'll be left nice and cool instead of melting. This will GREATLY help you avoid getting heat rashes under your clothes.

    That's all I got right now, and this has turned out a LOT longer than I thought it would be
    Oh well I hope I were of SOME help!
    -Warren
  3. WarrenG

    Halloween!

    By 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
  4. WarrenG
    So after some prompting from the boyfriend (Really wasnt in the mood due to the news in the previous blog) I decided to get off my butt and dress up for halloween. I had to work this halloween which is fine because I love to see all the costumes and knew it would cheer me up somehow. He let me use him as my first victim before getting myself ready.
    Here's the Results:
    Justin as a skeleton thingie (first time Ive ever face painted someone)

     
    And me, A zombie Police officer, intended in reference to Walking Dead style. Though someone accused me of making a joke for Police Brutality, in which case I was wishing to demonstrate Police Brutality on his dumbass.
    Zombie Ren


     
    So, yeah. Halloween.
    Plus I think I got flirted with.
    The (obviously gay) gas station attendant that I see all the time (its where I have to refuel the company Jeep) complimented me on my costume and even did a whole lean-back-smile-and-nod with a "mmmmmhmmmm, damn" comment. Said it was the best costume he'd seen all night and gave me pieces of his personal stash of candy 0.o Well, okay lol thank you?
    Anyways, yeah.
    If it's not bloody, its not fun.
    Warren
  5. WarrenG

    "Stay Frosty"

    By WarrenG,

    So I wanted to dye my hair and so something I've never done. I was curious what colors to do and etc, then I saw a message from a good friend
     you know who you are!
    But you said something that caught my attention. "Stay Frosty". I love jack frost!!!!!!!!! Even the old legends
    So blue it is!!!
    This required some bleaching which I've never done. But, here's how it went! Opinions welcome lol
    before:
    after bleach:
    after:

     
    Not sure how I feel about it yet lol
    If I'm still not 100% thrilled with it, I had planned ahead and bought my usual black dye to fix it at a later time. I think next time I'll just stick to my black hairdye, much less hassle and OMG THE STAINS IN MY BATHTUB!!! Took another 2 hrs of scrubbing to get internet privileges back.....
     
    Your bud,
    Warren
  6. WarrenG
    Everyone has a bad day now and then.
    Maybe they spilled their coffee, or the car wouldnt start, you stepped in a puddle up to your knee...could be anything.
    Mine never start out with physicaly disturbances. Sure, I have trouble with my car. But it's forgivable. My Jeep is my baby. And when I cant afford to fix my baby, she has a tantrum. I forgive her for it.
    Yeah there's days when my hair just does NOT want to agree and be tamed. Or when I seem to smash my fingers in everything I touch. But those dont get to me.
    My mind does.
    And today was one of those days. I couldnt explain why, and I didnt know when it started, but it did.
    It were nearly unbarable, close to driving me to furious fits of rage.
    Everything annoyed me.
    My binder felt too lose, and I were convinced it did jacks*** for my endeavors. I came to the saddening realization that unless I find a new job, I'm never going to be seen for the man I am. And on top of that, it's the secrecy that kills me. Literally eats me up inside, makes me ache and want to curl up.
    I cant tell anyone that I have "gender dysphoria" or whatever anyone wants to call it. Where I'm from, they just called it "Gender Mixed". I dont trust a lot of the people at work.
    My family know. My boyfriend knows. One or two off-line friends know a little, but that's it.

    So when I have to stand there all day, working with the sweetest woman I know who's fighting two types of cancer and is absolutely attached to her friends at work (and refuses to take bedrest and would rather work with us instead), it's hard to get in her face about her petnames for me.
    "Baby girl. Sweetie pie." or "Such a good girl" and countless other remarks are what I endure all day. All in the best intentions, I assure you. Praises and such, and she does it out of love.
    But to me, it's like shes casting stones at my head. Every time she says it, I cringe. I want to tell her, and ask her to stop calling me those things because to me....its insulting. But I'm afraid to tell her.
    I dont want EVERYONE at work knowing about it...if they dont already.
    My boss calls me "Baby girl" all the time out of habit, but I dont think he realizes how awkward it is for me. For him, it's normal. He calls all the girls "Baby girl" or "Baby Doll". But for me.....no thanks.
    But again...I cant tell him not to. Because then I would have to explain why. And that wouldnt go well.
    Days like this, I can say ****my life.
    I'm glad I dont have my "tools". My outlets werent helping, my frustrations were getting to be an alltime high, my confusion was overwhelming....I just wanted out. To go and hide from everyone and not come back. Felt like the whole building was caving in on me, and my mind just kept repeating those names. Baby girl. Baby doll. Sweetie pie. Good girl, good little baby girl.
    It was driving me crazy.

    I couldnt leave and take pictures. I had no inspiration to draw. My music player wasnt helping, and my roleplay buddy wasnt reachable because my messenger wouldnt send. I was at a loss.
    So I got busy cutting peppers and fruits (chef work. yay.) but then had that gutrentching realization...I was holding a knife.
    I put it down.
    I walked away.
    I left work early.
    Without permission.
    I might get fired.

    Warren
  7. WarrenG
    Hello, people of the pages. Ah the endless pages....
    So, just like anything else we try to accomplish, there are always roadblocks.
    Aside from the fact that I dont really know what to write about tonight, I thought I would ramble about an issue I'd been having today.
    My Binder.
    Technically speaking, I'm not sure if its actually a binder or not. It's a Torso Compression Tank from Manshape for FTMs. My first one I'd ever bought, EVER, so I probably got it wrong. Maybe?
    Anyway, I wear it over a sleeveless compression shirt from underarmor when I'm at work.
    Its made my life so much easier to not have THOSE in my way all the time. Granted I would be beyond happy and grateful if they could shrink away even more, but hey. Not much a 44DD can get without surgery. (Which is an eventually plan, trust me! >.< )
    But lately I have noticed a bit of an issue, especially today.
    When my 'set' (binder and compression shirt) start to feel like theyve stretched out a bit, I toss them in my dryer for a few minutes (i read online that it's the way to go to get them back into shape).
    So I did so this morning before work, and noticed a difference immediatly. I didnt think much of it, really. Did my normal routine, and went to work.
    But ALL DAY I felt like I was short of breath, that I couldnt breathe. I've NEVER had this problem before. Ever.
    Maybe it simply shrunk down too much, but after reading horror stories, I always worry that I'm inflicting damage to my lungs or something.

    They say beauty is pain. But people dont realize that unbeauty hurts too. I dont wear makeup anymore, and never really did to be honest. But now my eyes feel dry all the time. I dont wear chapstick as much because I feel stupid putting it on, so now my lips split alot from chewing on them from my anxiety.
    And most of all...this whole binding thing. Now that I have them, I feel totally and utterly lost and horrible if I am forced to switch to a bra to 'give myself a break'. My boyfriend insists that during the weekends or at home, I wear nothing or a bra, and stay out of a binder. Which I can understand.
    But I cant go in public without them anymore...I hate it. I feel so stupid without them. Like the whole world is looking at my chest and not my face.
    But I've noticed the skin on the outter sides of my ribs, under my arms has become tender to the touch. Probably from the compression shirt rubbing. My 'you know whats' are tender and ache, and once I take off my binders..I do all I can to avoid anything brushing up against them or touching them in any way because they hurt.
    Then I have that damned irritation between and underneath. Sweat I suppose, from working in a 90F kitchen for 9 hours a day. But there's no way I can go back to a bra. I refuse. I'd rather suffer.
    Someone asked if maybe I'm wearing it too tight but mentally, for me, its not tight enough. I want it all hidden, but at what cost?
    I know they worry about my health, but for my mental health, I need this. But which is more important, mental or physical health? It's a toss up, really.
    "Six to one, half dozen the other" my boyfriend would say. I never really liked the phrase, but it works.

    In other news, I had decided to try photography, as suggested.
    And wouldnt you get my luck? I drop my damn ipod and smashed the screen all to cheese&crackers. So no camera for me Thanks karma, you're a doll.
    Maybe one day I'll look back on all this and laugh. Or maybe one day I'll look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking. Only time will tell.
    -Warren

    P.S.
    Sorry for the TMI o.o
  8. WarrenG
    Today I had another doctors appointment, which is my regular monthly thing.
    I assume she were happy with what was going on, since she said she doesnt need to see me for another two months
    I've officially gone from 225-230 pounds, all the way down to 214 She wants to see me down at 210 or lower by the end of Janurary. GAME ON!
    So I kicked off my challange....with a bowl of ice cream. Darn it, I'm so bad at this >.<
    We talked for a while about the gender thing, and she got me seriously thinking about the name change process, so I did some looking into it tonight.
    Did you know it costs over 110.00$ to do a legal name change, and you have to have a court date?! Plus they legally HAVE to post it in the paper ( yay.) and the judge can just up and decide NOT to grant it, but you still have to pay.
    What the flippernuts?!
    But....I guess it would be worth it, afterall. But I dont want to even try and change my name until I at least have top surgery. There's no point having a male name when you have breasts. Seriously.

    Today I had an interesting development.
    A girl kept watching me from a table as I was working, and kept acting like she wanted to ask me something. But she kept hesitating, and changing her mind. When she finally came over to talk to me, I were surprised by her question.
    "No offense but...are you a guy or a girl?"
    How do you answer a question like that? When you're still legally and technically one gender, but desperate to identify as the opposite, yet dont want too many people to know about it yet.....what the heck do you say to that?
    I was kind of nervous about it and stuttered out a quick "Technically girl...why?"
    To which she responded "Bummer. You would have been a cute guy. I'm not into girls though." and walked away.
    Uh, what? Wait, what!
    In one aspect, I found it somewhat flattering and rather amusing, and it made me laugh a bit. I thought it was hilarious, and loved it.
    But then I told my boyfriend.
    You know that look on someones face when you say you have bad news and that curling of the nose as they listen to something they need to do? That was his response.
    Kind of like "Ugh....this again....Dont like it."
    It was rather disheartening to be excited that someone had to actually ask if I was a girl or not, and have that hope that I look like a guy a bit for them to ask me to clarify; only for him not to share my enthusiasm and kind of shrug it off.

    Feels like I'm the only person who showed up to a birthday party, and its my own birthday.
    Kind of sucked.
    I guess I'll just to deal with it...
    Otherwise it was a pretty good night, I suppose.
    Hey, at least its friday
    Tomorrow I got to change the oil in my car, check the battery power, get a light checked, return my broken ipod, and work for a friend of mine around her house.
    I think I work 7 days a week and no one told me.
    Warren
  9. 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
  10. WarrenG

    Random Thoughts

    By WarrenG,

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

  11. WarrenG

    Tattoo is Finished!

    By WarrenG,

    So, after three weeks of healing, I went back for another session of what I thought would be torture. It turned out to be torture/torment/agony x10. Oh my lard I hurt soooooo soo bad, I went into shock twice and almost passed out a few times. It was probably the worst pain I'd ever felt, surpassing my several bones I've broken and even when I sliced open my palm on a hubcap. The guy (Tim) gave me two options. 1)suck it up, grin and bare it and let him finish it 100% and he'll try to be quick and save me some pain. 2) puss out and do half, come back in another 3 weeks, and pay another 300$ for the session.
    I dont have another 300$ so I took a pain pill and told him to just do it. By the end of it, I was shaking from head to toe, almost throwing up, dizzy and in such agony that I felt my throat closing up from wanting to cry. Me being a manly man (lol) I refused myself the tears and just dealt with it. Even him touching the surface to wipe it clean of loose ink made me flinch away and cringe, and at some points I would have my opposite shoulder pressed against the wall as if trying to escape while he was working, because I just could not stay leaned towards him anymore. My body was begging for him to stop, and that little voice in my head went 'no, please stop! stop it, I cant take any more!' every time he leaned down to start tattooing.
    Anyway, the pictures: (better ones soon. These ones suck because it's slimy with ointment, blood, oozing ink and swollen to hell)

     
    In the end----totally worth the pain. As soon as he was done, I felt so much better and proud of the work that I forgot the pain. Sort of like childbirth I suppose. After the pain is gone and you hold your child, you forget that you're torn up and bleeding. (so glad that children are not for me lol)
     
    Tattoo Aside, I had other situations. Firstly, I saw my family before going to the tattoo shop. My mother has decided to marry a guy I never met (cant remember if I told you guys that. She dated him in highschool until my grandmother slept with him and broke them up, and they just got back together then 3 weeks later got married.) so I figured it'd be good to make an appearance since I didnt go to the wedding. (faked that I had to work. I really wanted no part of it.) Any my impressions of my new 'stepfather'? He's a douche. I cant stand him, he's so full of himself and makes my younger siblings work and clean house and cook meals while they dont do shit. I only wanted a handshake, he made me hug him. >:( Dont like.
    Aside from all that and being misgendered and deadnamed by my 19 yr old brother the whole time (because he's a dick and I sort of expected it from him), my mother (who I thought had turned a new leaf) continued to do the same thing. She not once said my chosen name. And when someone stopped by and she was talking to them from their truck, she pointed at me and said "yeah that's my daughter'. F*** my life....Seriously left in a horrid mood. So much for my family changing for the better......
     
    Here's the f***ed up part.
    At the tattoo shop, I couldnt wear my binder and t-shirt because of where he was doing the tattoo. So I'm sitting there in my bra and undershirt, boobs very noticable and unavoidable. Yet NOT ONCE did Tim misgender me. Well, okay, one time. But it doesnt count because he IMMEDIATLY corrected himself and apologized. He's so amazing and always has been with me, and has another FTM friend so he's not trans-retarded and treats me with the utmost respect. Here's the other part. One of his friends came in, who doesnt know me. He walked in as we were talking about my trans issues. One of the topics in the subject came up about showering. Tim mentioned that I must get annoyed in the shower due to my feminine parts, but I admited that I not only get annoyed, I'm disgusted, furious, sick to my stomach---I dont even look down. I avoid all visuals of my chest as possible. His friend caught on to how much my transgender issues hurt me, and Tim went quiet because he felt really bad. And then a miracle happened. His buddy started to talk between the two of us, totally casual and friendly and whatnot (though I caught him staring at my boobs XD I cant complain, they ARE kinda huge) and he only misgendered me one time, and like Tim did, he quickly corrected himself immediatly once he realized he did it. NO PROBLEMS. NO QUESTIONS ASKED, NO JUDGEMENT, NO CONFUSION. Just point blank "This is warren, HE is getting a tat done" then "oh, cool, nice to meet you dude. HIS tat looks awesome".
    WHY THE HELL CAN STRANGERS GET IT, BUT MY FAMILY CANT?! I understand that theyve known me longer and its hard to get out of habits, but THEYRE NOT EVEN TRYING. This total stranger who I met for a mass of 5 minutes had MORE RESPECT for me than my family, and he connected to the pain I had with the transgender issues more than my own family. Like they literally dont give a shit how bad it makes me feel, or the depression I deal with from it. I seriously dont know what to do....
     
     
    ON ANOTHER, HAPPIER NOTE:
    My doctor is writing me a 'letter of nessesity' to give to my surgeon who will send it to insurance, and then I'll find out if they'll approve my top surgery. They agreed that both surgeon and doctor would LEAVE OUT the transgender part, and place it down as simply a 'medically beneficial breast reduction', noting my daily pain, limits to daily life, rashes, bruising, sores, headaches, back pain, neck pain, shoulder pain, back popping, rib pain, etc. So maybe the insurance will look at it and go 'wow, ouch, this chick needs this done' instead of 'pffft, she thinks shes a dude. Rule this as cosmetic and deny."
     
    So.....here's hoping. Pray for me, wish me luck, light a candle, whatever it is you guys do. 
     
    In a long healing process and sober from self harm for about 2 months,
    Warren
  12. 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 >.<
  13. 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 ;)
  14. WarrenG
    Hey guys, girls and uniques
    So someone asked me to update everyone on the new look for my gofundme account, and I'll include that below.
    Not much has happened really, not much to blog about anyway. Aside from my neighbor calling in tears because her elderly doberman-mutt dog, Wheezie, was told to be put down by an emergency Vet. The poor 13 yr old pup was laying on the floor in her own feces, whining and unable to stand, her hind legs stretched out towards her front awkwardly. My neighbor, who is like a mother to me, was reasonably very upset.
    So I got some home remedies (cats claw and tumeric) to bring down and help little Wheezie with the pain. I was able to get the old girl up onto her feet after feeling her stomach, and realizing she were very gassy. Almost like Colic. Only intending on getting her up and moving around to help with the pain, I were relieved that she were more than willing to relieve herself OUTSIDE. Thats why she was whining! The poor baby knows she's not allowed to make messes in the house, but she simply couldnt stand up to go out. So after some help and walking around, I were very impressed to see her start walking around without my assistance with holding up her waist with a towel wrapped around her. She moved better as time went on, and I came to the conclusion that her Vet....is an idiot. She's not dying, she has a hip problem, and cannot get up on her own. She's old.
    He judged her inability to live simply because her hair is falling out in clumps (duh, its spring. she's shedding!) and didnt even feel her hips or digestion to give her a proper exam. I grew up around animals from bears, hawks, deer, a dozen pet raccoons and even a pet skunk. Horses, cows, ducks, you name it! I'm not animal-stupid, that's for sure. And even a low-tech Vet Tech like me could tell this animal isnt ready to die. After giving her Cats Claw and Tumeric with dinner, I told my neighbor (Anne Marie) that I would be down later tonight with a dog halter/harness (like a vest) to help her outside to use the bathroom. I were extremely pleased and surprised, however, not only to find her laying on the blankets I had laid down for her---but she got up, on her own! No assistance needed, and she went down the stairs (though a bit wobbly) without my help. Drastic Improvement! Hoping for the best for the old girl!
    Warren
    http://www.gofundme.com/giveWarrenaHand <<<<<<<updated version
  15. 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
  16. 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
  17. WarrenG

    What do you really want?

    By 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
  18. 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
  19. WarrenG
    Hello again lol So I have something I wanna talk about. Anxiety at work.
    This came to mind shortly after watching a bit of a recent movie (cant remember the name of it. Something to do with a woman working in fast food, getting fired, then robbing the place). It really brought up some memories of my first time working for Dunkin Donuts. My anxiety disorder was basically ruling my life at that point, but I desperatly needed a job and I was willing to take what I could get. Sadly, it ended up being Dunkin Donuts. After a ton of hassle about tests and blah blah blah, I was finally hired to do prep work, cleaning and register. It was alright at first. Nerve wracking, sure. But all new jobs are I guess. Anyway, they started me off with mopping and cleaning the back areas, and doing dish washing. Those things I was great at because my anxiety was low considering I was in the back room AWAY from people. No problem! But noooo they wanted me to learn more stuff so they put me on donut prep. That was fine...whatever. But my boss would nag me about mopping and whatnot, and one day I foolishly was mopping in the wrong direction and pinned myself in a dirty corner with a clean room. My boss came in and gave me hell, amping up my anxiety, and making me feel stupid for "not even knowing how to mop." I knew how to mop....I just messed up that one day. Give me a break!
    But this wasnt good enough...."It's time you learned the register".
    I cannot even tell you in detail about how it went because I blanked out more times than I can remember. The anxiety of trying to learn the computer and cash and do math while people are barking orders and specific coffee needs was just waaaay too much. I eventually caved, unable to function, and asked someone else to take over. OR, I'd get pushed out of the way for holding up the lines. As a sort of punishment, I was told to "mop the freezers". NO ONE specified that I had to use special mopping solution for the freezer.....I swear they did it just to make me look stupid. So I was stuck working late, mopping a freezer, leaving pieces of the blue mop all over the freezer floor as the water froze on contact and tore it apart. I felt so stupid..I couldnt get it off the floor. And no one offered any help with it either.
    The next day I was called on my cellphone by my boss. "You dont need to come into work today. We wont be needing your services anymore". And when I asked what I did wrong, she simply said "We're overstaffed." Overstaffed.....I'd only been there two weeks! All because my anxiety couldnt let me breathe enough to learn what needed to be done. I came in that week to drop off my apron and hat, after spending over 40$ on stupid specific shirts that THEY wanted me to wear that I didnt have and THEY wouldnt help me pay for. And you know what I saw? Three new people. Overstaffing my ass!
     
    My point is, a lot of places that you work in sadly do not understand what it means to have an employee with an Anxiety disorder. And instead of slowing down and taking the extra minute to explain slowly and letting their employees ease into it, theyd rather just replace them. Thankfully in this day and age, with the anxiety and transgender issues coming out more and more in the work force, employers are being a little better about it. My new job as a security guard has been beyond amazing in this!
    I confessed immediatly to my boss (because I liked her right away about how open she was) about having an Anxiety Disorder and being Transgender. She nodded and understood, telling me that I'm going to mess up a lot and that's okay, and she'll be patient. She said it doesnt matter if I'm transgender because she respects me as a man as long as I respect her as a woman. She's never messed up on my pronouns on purpose, and if she messed up, she immediatly has corrected herself and apologized. When I felt anxious and was messing up on things, she took a step back and said "take a deep breath. Think about what you did wrong. How can you correct it for next time?" And I did. It's been amazing. And I'm seeing a newer, more efficiant side of myself now that I'm able to step back, take a breath, and try again. She can see in my face when I'm being overwhelmed and will ask me to do something else, knowing that I'm reaching my limit of functional comprehension. I cannot possibly express how much I appreciate everything that the people at Proctor have done for me....I love where I work. But you have to go through some SERIOUSLY bad apples in order to find something worth doing. Something you love doing. Of course you'll get tired and wanna do something different now and then, but if you are asked "Do you like your job?" and do not hesitate to say yes...you're doing just fine.
    My time as a chef was more or less a living hell at times. I can honestly say now that it fueled a large part of my depression and self harm, leaving my work station to hide in the bathroom just to self harm. The constant crowd of faces surrounding me at all times made my heart go on overdrive, sweating despite feeling cold, being angry all the time because I had no other way to express how I was unable to deal with my job. Running (literally at times) to get things done and still being told "you dont do anything". Being told that the problem was not the fact that I was being bullied, pushed around or slapped with transphobia--that the problem was me. Just me, and no one and nothing else. And when I sat in tears after writing a letter to the superviser about the treatment I'd recieved, I instead was pulled into the office and made to feel like I'm a horrible person and that I'm blaming everyone else for my problems and that it was ME who needed to change. I smile and play nice, but to this day...I hate them for it. Because of how they treated me and how they refused to see the abuse I was going through....they literally almost killed me. I almost hope one of them sees this. I dont want you to have to apologize. I dont want you to have to come up to me and beg forgiveness. I just want you to acknowledge what you did, and what you didnt do to help. That's all. Instead of making me look like a loser who quit because I couldnt "handle it". You should consider yourselves lucky that I didnt take further action beyond your own little house of control on either myself or others in that building. It came pretty close, I wont lie....
    But thank you. For showing me the door. Because I found something better. Something I ENJOY doing, people who understand me and appreciate what I do.
    Sincerely,
    Ren
     
    BTW:
    Dunkin Donuts are all premade, frozen,and laid out overnight to thaw before you eat them. The ovens never get cleaned and there are so many chemicals in your coffee coolatas, its amazing they still have living customers.
  20. WarrenG

    Is it Spring yet?

    By WarrenG,

    Okay, I will admit and submit to my foolhardy wish for winter. Yes, I did crave a nice snowfall. Some nice puffy snowbanks would have been nice, ON CHRISTMAS. But now that it's Janurary, the sudden drop of -3F weather and ice covered everything is getting really old. It's not that I dont like the cold (hell, I've been going to work in my work sweater and work boots as my only bundling up causes lol) But the fact that it rained directly afterwards and coated everything in inch thick ice is really old. I didnt buy winter boots this year because I didnt feel I needed them. Realistically, I still dont think I need them, considering I'm wandering on ICE and not five feet of snow that we usually have by now.
    ANYWAY, Enough of my whining XD Things have been alright over here for the most part. Rather non-dramatic unless you count the chaos going on with my baby brother Kai. I'm so lost as to what to do to help him. CLEARLY he's not safe with my mother, but I cant take him here either. I'm not a legal guardian, plus I live with my boyfriends family so I really cant just pick him up and say 'live with me'. I dont own the place and it wouldnt be right. Plus he's still doing school and whatnot. But I could SO EASILY turn my mother in to the state....
    I finally got the whole story on what was going on. Kai is depressed, that much is obvious. I feel so bad because there's nothing I can do about it because he lives so far away from me. He has next to no friends aside from who is on the internet, and he cant talk to them very often because my mom lives off the grid. Literally. They have no running water, no plumbing, and the only electricity they get is when it's windy and powers their windmill. They live 2 miles up a one-way dirt road with no neighbors and in the middle of no where. That's how my mom likes it. She's lived in places like that every since my dad died, and dragged us kids along with it. She tells people how happy her family is and how great everything is and how much her kids LOVE living in those areas. It couldnt be farther from the truth but no one gives a damn! I want to go on her profile and rant and rave SO BAD about how [BAD] of a mother she is, and let people see the truth of her PERFECT FAMILY. But they all think I'm the crazy one anyway so they'll think nothing of it  It's so frustrating!!!
    Anyway, Kai was extremely depressed and all my mother seemed to care about was the fact that the dishes werent done. So Kai...tried committing suicide by cutting. And when my mother got involved and found out what was going on, instead of sitting down and trying to be sympathetic and help, she said this....
    "If you're going to kill yourself, fine. But I have three requests. Dont do it in front of your brother, Dont blame it on me, and Do a good job with it because I'm not taking care of you if you turn yourself into a vegetable."
    ARE YOU  KIDDING ME!?!?!?!?!? YOU DONT TELL A SUICIDAL CHILD TO GO AHEAD AND DO IT AND MAKE SURE THEY SUCCEED!!!
    I'm so lost...I want to call DCF and tell them about Kai's lack of schooling, the abuse, the suicidal tendancies.....But what would happen from it? Mom would know who told them depending on who she'd told this information, and then what? I'd be banned from seeing Kai, or Kai would go to a foster home (and wouldnt last 10 minutes on his own there), or they'd just leave it be and Kai will either commit suicide or my mom will beat him to death. She claims she's not abusive but I know better from my own personal experiences! She's beaten near every one of us kids, and although none of us had broken bones from it, the emotional and physical trauma she's caused is NOT small! I dont know what to do to help....If I call someone, Kai will be in danger. If I DONT call someone, Kai STAYS in danger...I'm so lost ;( 
     
    In other news...Apparently Alex is becoming rather popular on facebook (which is okay i guess) and I've been so tired and stressed lately that I just let him take over 80% of the time. But now that we've become (unfortunatly) aware of more than just him in there, life's getting hectic. So apparently (according to someone else I'll mention) there are five. Including Alex. One of which is a female, who we've named Abby. (She said she didnt have a name and wanted one so Alex and my friend Destinee named her). She's....interesting. And frustrating. Very feminine and insists on trying to put make up on me or wearing feminine things and it drives me crazy  Sometimes I wanna strangle her, she's so annoying! Alex tollerates her but I think he feels the same way. She's fronted a few rare times but never for more than an hour. Thankfully. But there is one other I'm aware of that almost costed me my relationship last night. Justin (my boyfriend) and I went to the theater to watch Star Wars. (No spoilers, but fantastic movie! BUT, be prepared for a disappointment as well.) After the movie, we went out to eat and sometimes (especially if he's hungry and tired) Justin gets kinda cranky. He was getting annoyed at the restaurant/pub because the food was taking a long time after we waited 20 mins to be seated, and he had to go and put more quarters in the meter so we wouldnt get a parking ticket. So he was reasonably annoyed. But I sort of dozed off and felt a switch coming on, but assumed it was just Alex so I let it go and didnt think much of it. Apparently it wasnt Alex, it was someone else. (Lesson learned: ask first, switch after.). This one is apparently younger than me, more timid, male, and almost has a childish sort of attitude. Like a submissive "Little". He apparently was upset about Justin's attitude and when Justin got up to use the restroom, he showed obvious signs of not feeling comfortable and was all pouty or something. A couple who sat at a table nearby (gay couple, maybe they felt sympathetic because we looked like a gay couple ((in my mind we are, in justins we're not.)) ) wove for him to come sit with them instead, probably assuming we were in an abusive relationship. AND HE ALMOST DID! He was going to get up and go sit when them instead and ignore justin completely!!!!! UH, NO!?!?
    Thankfully Alex took over and prevented it and told me about it after. This whole MPD thing is getting out of hand!!! I dont want to see a therapist and have meds shoved down my throat but if this keeps progressing and getting worse, I'm not gonna have much of a choice. I'm gonna have to go  It's stupid because this stuff usually happens when life is stressful and traumatic right? I dont feel traumatized! Granted, I'm slightly stressed about the Kai thing, but I thought Alex and I had it under control! Ever since taking those muscle relaxants to try and sleep, this has gotten worse. There are nights when I cant even sleep because all I hear is inaudible noise from everyone talking up there. Its driving me crazy!!!
    In other news.....I finally organized my penguin collection lol. I have a small shelf area (two actually, one atop the other) of penguin things. Cups, figurines, an adorable penguin musical thing, boxes, snowglobes and etc. But one thing I've also collected a lot of over the years with christmas and birthdays is STUFFED PENGUINS! LOOOOOVE it but I only really sleep with one in particular; the first one I ever got. It was a gift from Justin when we went to see real penguins for the first time. I named him Jack and he sleeps with me lol He's an African Penguin (Jackass penguin. No joke, it's the actual nickname on account of their braying noises). But I now have fourteen other penguins and some are NOT small. One is even three feet tall! All have names, because I'm pathetic XD.
    But I bought a shoe organizer thing that you hang on the wall and so they all have their spots hanging above my bed. Love it. It's the little things  
    Anyway, my brain is killing me (Headaches for the past three weeks. Not sure what from but sometimes I literally hide in bed all day because it's legit throbbing >.< )
    Love and Respect to all you ppls,
    Stay safe,
    Ren
  21. WarrenG
    As some of you might know, I had my sixteen year old sister down at my place for about a week. The reason I did this was simple. She needed out.
    I look at my little sister and see a perfect replica of me at her age. Shy, outcasted, punk, stylish, misunderstood, and above all...depressed. She'd decided that eating is not something she HAS to do, and has resorted to eating about once a day, or even less on occasion. She hides in her room, away from the world. Not that I can blame her....my mother is...well...my mother. She doesnt understand these things, is rather demanding and controlling, and does not understand people like me or my sister AT ALL.
    So, for a week with me she went.
    I spoiled her ROTTEN. She deserved it! Though she fought it at first, telling me to stop buying things for her, I knew she liked it. Shirts and necklaces of her favorite band, a poster, new jewelry, new clothes, etc. I took her out to dinner a few times, we (including my bf who adores her) went out to the movies together...We had fun!
    By the time it was time to bring her home, she had emerged from her shell, been eating regular meals, and was getting a full night's sleep.
    But as we climbed into the truck to make the three hour drive to bring her home...she switched back again.
    She became reserved, fearful, shy...depressed. I literally cried as we drove away, and she cried in my arms because she didnt want me to leave her. We've never had that sort of relationship before, where she were comfortable enough to do that with me. I promised her to be back in a few weeks...I'm taking her for a whole MONTH. I did NOT give my mother an option on this.

    But in this situation, other situations arose. First of all....my support from my family..is false.
    It had been revealed to me that though, to my face, my mother and siblings are supportive of my transgender lifestyle and seem happy that I'm happy....theyre talking bad behind my back. Apparently, they have been saying rude comments about me to people, saying I'm doing this "just for the attention" and that it's not a phase indeed...but a desperate cry for mental help and attention. The news hurt...a lot.
    The support I thought I had, the understanding I were sure they possessed....was all false. None of it were sincere. They're laughing at me....

    During the visit while bringing my sister home...I noticed their behaviour towards it. The little comments here and there, the mentions and giggles about my changes in appearance...my older sister is now dressing up even more and hanging all over my boyfriend. As if to say "Your girlfriend turned into a guy, but I'm still a girl so look at me instead". It hurts...so bad...
    On top of that, not once did they ask my little sister "did you have fun?" or "what did you do down there?" or even an innocent "hey, we missed you!" It broke my heart to see her cast in the shadows.
    Just like I was.

    But again, another situation has been a plague in my mind.
    Sisterhood vs. Brotherly love.
    My little sister knows that I am transgendered, and she is TOTALLY cool with it. She supports it 150%, and even got excited for me when someone called me Sir at the store.
    But the things I used to do that were deemed "Sisterly love" might no longer be appropriate?
    For instance, the hugs all the time I assume are alright. But now people think we're a couple...
    We've always smacked eachother and pinched and fooled around..but now that I look like a teen guy, it just looks like a dude hitting on her or being a bully. And people look at us funny instead of the classic eyeroll of "oh theyre sisters being sisters, no biggy"
    And now one of the bigger ones. Laying together. When we were younger, we used to share a bed. Which was no problem, and we still occasionally will share a bed (both clothed of course) while shes on the computer or we're looking stuff up or something.
    Well in this instance, I'd fallen asleep, and cuddled up behind her, and my arm draped over her waist. I didnt think anything of it, she didnt seem to mind, etc.
    But it were mentioned to me later by someone else that me being male, that might no longer be appropriate. I'd love some advice on this, if anyone has any. I love reading the comments and such!
    What things might a sister be okay to do, that is no longer "okay" for a brother?
    I'd look to my brother for this advice but he's less than enjoyable to talk to, and doesnt fully approve of my gender transition.
    Love to hear your thoughts,
    Warren

    P.S.
    I now have the date to see my therapist for the first time ever. The 18th o.o I'm nervous!
    (Photo is on top of one of the Twin Mountains near where my old hometown is)
  22. WarrenG
    I never thought I would be here...at this impass of live. That moment when the fairy tales seem to take life and not in their usual good manner. The moment when a step-parent becomes the wicked witch or that menacing warlock. I never thought I'd be a part of it...
     
    Joey is his name. On first impression, I knew I didnt like him. His eyes told of selfishness and laziness. His posture spoke of sexism and over-tried alpha tendancies. His breath rank of an unrecognizable stench that turned my stomach, and his lack of manners towards the opposite sex was appaulling. He's a pig...but even pigs are better suited.
    The first moment I laid eyes on him, I had driven into the driveway to visit my family. I'd missed the wedding, so this was the first in which we'd laid eyes on eachother. I was not greeted, and I was not acknowledged. He simply looked up at my vehicle, seemed to sigh with annoyance, and wandered off to whatever he was doing. A simple 'hows it goin?' and 'not too bad' was exchanged as I approached the house, and that was it. He followed me in like an executioner to his post. It were not until my mother introduced us that he actually seemed to look at me. None too pleasantly, might I add. I was introduced as her daughter, her Kristy....I corrected that I were her son, Warren, and attempted to shake his hand. I got a hug instead, and it were not willing. I were not permitted a handshake it seemed. When I voiced that hugging strangers made me uncomfortable, he said 'you'll have to get used to it. I married your mother'.
    His eyes is what told his story. The eyes are often called the windows to the soul and he does not have a glamorous or spectacular soul by any means. In fact, I would hardly even shutter if the dear Hannibal Lector happened upon him and asked to dine on his overbloated, beer infested cadaver. I would, I do believe, incline to his request and simply wave in acceptance while I watch him carry him away. He's not a bad man, perhaps. Just a bad egg...
    He brings out a side of me that I have kept submerged for years. The Dominance side of me that sometimes concerns me and terrifies my soul, but I were often informed that it were another personality of myself. A more formal, gruesome side of my personality. I often thought of him as perhaps an imaginary friend, taunting me when I were too weak to stand up for myself. His name changed now and again...First it was Ben. Then Alex. Then one instance, he even called himself Dorian. I'm not sure what he calls himself now, but I can feel him reaching the surface once more. This....Joey....brings him back from the darkness in which he once slumbered. Even now, as I'm typing, I can feel his influence. Even in the way I write things, I feel that there is a shift in personality. A sinister switch...It began long ago, as most stories do, with my childhood. The childhood in which blood and gore were of no stranger to me. Slaughtering animals and lifestock for food, a odd fascination with their pieces being seperated so that we may dine on their once-lively muscle tissue. My...'brother', I guess you could call him, evolved through the years. Becoming more aware, more violent, but more able to mask himself in my own personality. "Influence, my dear.....the whole world runs upon influence. It is the only way that the good may triumph whilest the bad secretly are the marionettes to the puppets. You, dear boy, will thrive off my influence. I'll guide and protect you. And when the time comes, you will take the bench, and I shall orchestrate." I remember the words perfectly. At the time I thought it were simply my imagination running wild. But in the years to follow, I've learned that it were actually he himself. My brother..my other soul..the drum in my ears when things got too chaotic. The force behind my fists and the growl within my screams.
    Joey....that aweful lump of a man...he has brought my brother the life that he had once had in my teenage years, while catering to my vampiric Dom side by night. In secret, fleeing to the only family who accepted me. A clan of outcasts, vampire enthusiastics. I had quickly become one of them. I became a Dom as easily as one would crack an egg. Maybe a few pieces fell when the shell broke free, but the yolk took over these pieces as if they were nothing. Moving them out of the way as it pleased. I felt free...HE felt free. But I left the coven and decided to 'grow up' when mother moved us away. He has been silent since, perhaps worn out over his profound freedom. But this horrible....stepfather of mine...has brought him back. I almost worry about his intentions.
     
    He dislikes me. That much is clear. Joey, that is. Alex, as I will call him until he reveals his true name, adores me. We're one, afterall. But Joey....dear pathetic Joey...he makes my stomach cramp with disgust. He annoys me with his very presence. He treats my siblings like butlers or cattle, pushing them around and bending them to do his will but with no more of a reward than the common dog. Perhaps a scrap of affection, maybe he will throw old bones to them, but in the end--to him, theyre still just dogs. His real prize is my mother, who I fear is growing more and more sour with every passing day of their newfound marriage. It sickens me...I never had a good childhood, that much is clear as day. But watching my siblings relive some of the horrors that I learned to push through makes me furious. He treats them like dust, glaring at them until the day he can wipe them away. Joey did not marry my family, he married my mother. And only my mother. He's just waiting for the day when he can push his influence into my poor, naive little autistic brother's head to gain him over to his side. To mold him into himself, as no man has ever held the bond of fatherhood over him as he now can. The rest will move out, he is sure. Or, by all means, he will push them out. And so far is succeeding. What drives me mad the most is my mother's blindness. Her own bitterness and sour disposition seems to surface with his presence as well, though she hardly notices. She's more cruel and unforgiving to my siblings as she had been before. She will boast on her facebook about her perfect family, and how wonderful everything is and how much her sweet children adore her new loving husband. But as I once heard someone say---The beautiful portrait that you display on your wall....it hides the most hideous stain in the wallpaper.
    I wish to be rid of him....My little brother, as he now wishes me to call him, is coming into his own. Not the autistic one, Jordan. But my---dare I say it----favorite sibling. Kai, my dear Kai...What I would give just to see his happiness...He's been so tormented in this world, and by family the most. He is like me, and perhaps that is why I adore him so much and wish for his happiness. It's a happiness I was rarely granted. At first I were jealous of the attention he recieved for being transgender. The affections he were granted that I were denied. The opportunities my mother has given him that I still am shunned for. But now I see it....my inner brother has reminded me of it several times when I become jealous.
    "Kai is living the life that you had always dreamt of. Though it may be cruel.....help them achieve it. Help them become the young man that you missed out on being. You get to flourish as a man, but they get to blossom as a boy. Help him, and perhaps you'll even discover yourself."
    There's a bittersweet truth in it. And as much as I fear any advice from Alex, I think he may be onto something. Parents mold their children to live the lives they always wanted. Perhaps, in a way, if the child is willing and as wanting as yourself---is it really so bad? Perhaps not, if the situation calls for it.
     
    But one thing is certain.
    Joey needs to go.
     
    -Warren.......and Alex.
    Note: Perhaps my therapist was right. Perhaps DID isnt so impossible of a diagnosis....but he's not a disease. I'm starting to enjoy his company.
  23. WarrenG

    Support Amy ^_^

    By WarrenG,

    Okay so I wanted to throw up a really quick blog entry for my friend Amy, who has recently decided to start up her Youtube channel with an introduction video
    If you guys/girls would like to check it out, please feel free to give her a thumbs up and some support  (my brain is so fried from no sleep i wrote thamb up and some supper lol guess im hungry XD)
     
     
    Sending some love your way, Amy!!
    Warren
  24. WarrenG

    The pride and the shame

    By WarrenG,

    These past two days have both been wonderful, and difficult.
    Prideful, and shameful.

    It started out with a simple errand. My boyfriend had to work, so I went into town on my own, something I rarely get the opportunity to do. So I threw on my binder and a lose black sweater and my jeans, and wandered half an hour from home to do my errands. Grab some groceries, refill on meds, things of that nature. One thing that I needed to pick up, was an auto paint pen. For those of you who arent sure what that is, it's just the paint to fix scratches on your vehicle in the accessability of a marker. So I gathered the barcode and color code, and wandered in to find it.
    I knew where I was going, because I rather enjoy being at the autopart store, and knew where things were. But out of no where I heard "How can I help you, sir?"
    I paused, looking over my shoulder. Surely that werent for me....was it? It was.
    I couldnt help but stare at the man and do all I could to resist smiling from ear to ear. He didnt say miss, or ma'am, or lady....he said sir. SIR. I wanted to hug him, I was so happy.
    Finally!
    Expecially since I've seen this man before plenty of times while with my boyfriend, but that was back when I dressed like a girl and had the unbearable waist-long hair. Now....I was sir.
    Unfortunatly they didnt have the paint that I needed, so I left empty handed, but with a smile on my face. They didnt understand why I looked so happy after being turned down of products, but that was just fine with me.

    My next stop was over to UnderArmor, to find a compression shirt. I was nervous, not sure what I was looking for at all, and wandered aimlessly in confusion. Eventually I decided to ask for help, and actually had to stop and think when they asked if I was looking for mens or womens clothing. I nearly gagged when I said womens...I wanted to say mens, but if it was a matter of how it would work, I guessed it was better to be honest. She wandered around to try and help me out, but came up empty handed. So she called upon the manager, Adam. Who, by the way, threw off all the hints that perhaps he were less than straight. Which was just fine with me.
    He smiled and helped me out, but then he stopped and stared at me. His gaze told of nothing but concern and sympathy, before he got really close and lowered his voice to a whisper.
    "Darling I love you just the way you are, and please do not be offended...but is this going under a binder?" he asked.
    I wanted to hide. I wanted to shove him out of my way and run from that store like a lunatic. But instead I stood dumbfounded, ashamed, and nodded. He smiled though, touched my shoulder, and gave me a wink. "Perfect. Now I know what you need" he grinned.
    He was so helpful! One look and he guessed my size, showed me what would work best for what I needed, and I left with two shirts (which were PERFECT by the way, this man was a GENIUS!) and another grin.

    THOSE were my PRIDEFUL moments.....then came my shame.
    The next night, my boyfriend and I decided to go watch Dracula in the theater, being that I am HUGE into the vampiric mythology and Dracula could practically be my uncle
    I grabbed his button up black shirt, because I love how it fits, and even took the time to throw some junk in my hair to keep it looking decent. Something I dont normally even bother with because I sort of like my messy look XD
    I had no problems until we got to the theater, and I decided to use the restroom before the movie started. Something told me this werent going to go well for some reason, but I went anyway.
    I went in the women's restroom, because that's what I'm used to, and I havent gotten to the point yet that said it's alright to go in the mens. Did my business, etc.
    Everything was fine until I went to wash my hands, and was confronted by a middle aged mom with a toddler on her hip, a look of horror on her face.
    "What the **** are you doing in here?!" was her screams in my face. I were confused at first, til I realized that just like the day before, perhaps I didnt look feminine.
    "There are little girls in here! Get the **** out, you pedophile!" she yelled. Everyone were staring at me now, and I didnt know what to do. I tried to move past her to wash my hands, but she continued to yell at me the whole time I were at the sink. Calling me names, calling me a pervert, and even one of the little girls went to hide in one of the stalls because she thought a boy was in the girls room.
    My face were so red with shame and embarrassment, that I wanted to curl up in a corner. I didnt even bother to dry my hands, I just fled the bathroom with my head down, hearing the door slam behind me and the excited screaming of the woman on the other side of it.

    I hate the way I am. I always have. But this....this just made me feel so much worse.
    I dont belong in the men's room..not yet. But....now I dont even belong in the women's bathroom either? I dont like germs...I'm slightly germaphobic. But now....**** public bathrooms. I'll hold it.

    So in one way, it was a good experience, because it goes to show that I'm slowly molding into the man I want to be. But in another way, it's pushing me further into that void where I dont belong with them, I dont belong with the guys....I dont belong anywhere. I'm in limbo, and there's no where to go except forwards or back.
    I really hope I'm not messing things up,
    -Warren
  25. WarrenG

    Second Try

    By WarrenG,

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

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

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

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

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

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