WarrenG

Nope. As far as my boss sees it, he can do no wrong. He's lied about other chefs before, and he coughs and sneezes and blows his face into a hankie before WIPING HIS FACE WITH IT.....yet he gets no grief for it. Meanwhile if my hat is on backwards or I forget a nametag..I'm screwed. I had ONE bad, cranky day last year and Chef yelled at me on the front line to get my sh** together or I wouldnt have a job there anymore. When I went to the changing room to calm down, he told a coworker to tell me that I had ten minutes to get back to work or I was done.

I thought it were over. I thought the drama were done. But it hadnt even started yet. The morning started off with the worse headache I've ever had. Pushing that aside, I headed to work. For the past week, the radio that I use in my area has been taken by an older and somewhat aggrivating co-worker. Me being kind, I let it go. True, music helps my anxiety stay back. But I couldnt just take it away from the brute. But today, I had forgotten my dosage of medications, and I were on edge plus agony from the headache. With halloween being the next day, I knew that I had a playlist to play the next day during meals for the holiday. My favorite holiday, if you hadnt noticed. So I went over to have a talk with "Dave". I could have been mean. I could have been rude. I could have said "hey I want the radio back NOW" But no....I were trying to be considerate. "Hey Dave, when you're all set can you put the radio back in my area? And I'd really appreciate if you could use a different one tomorrow, I have plans for it tomorrow." Is what I said, calmly. Which he snapped at me, ranting about how it doesnt belong to just me and that I needed to stop being selfish and rude and etc etc. I told him its a company radio, we're all supposed to share it. So he threw that very comment in my face, saying that I were keeping it all to myself. WHAT!? So....I broke. "You're such an ***hole" and walked off, beyond annoyed. So instead of just letting it drop, since he had his precious radio blaring the worst of the oldies, he instead came out ON THE FRONT LINE, in front of CUSTOMERS, screaming at me about how I will NEVER speak to him like that again, and how I were a disrespectful b**** and that I will NEVER use that language towards him again or he'll "Tell Head Chef" To which I simply shrugged at him the whole time like "whatever" which I think irked him even more. I stayed composed. Until he left, and everyone were staring at me. I broke... Holding it back until I were down the hall, I hid in the dry storage room's back corner behind some boxes and punched the daylights out of some canned goods and cardboard boxes, put my steeltoe boots to use against a box, then broke down in an anxiety attack and bawled my pathetic eyes out. I just couldnt handle it. I couldnt take the stress, the utter and complete BULLS*** One of the deli girls found me and was too freaked out by seeing me cry since I avoid doing so at work, and she ran off to find my boyfriend. Who wasnt very helpful, to be honest. He just stood there staring at me, seeming unimpressed. When I went to lean against him for a hug, he again, just stood there. No hug back, no comforting, just stood there. So I told him to just go back to work, and he did without argument or insistence to help me. He just....walked away. Thanks a lot.... After almost half an hour or so, I finally emerged. Mentally repeating "hes not worth it. just breathe. Dont let them see it." I had to retreat to the bathroom only once more after that to breathe and such one more time, before emerging once more. I'm not going to lie, I wanted to cut. I wanted to so badly. I even resorted to attempting to use the rough edge of a scanner card that were on my keychain. Thankfully, nothing I had would have sufficed even in the slightest. All day, Dave treated me like crap and told everyone I were disrespectful and behaved like a whiney child. He's one to talk.....I wanted to quit my job so badly. I still plan to, once I have another lined up. I'm so done with them......so, so done... So instead, for the rest of the night, I busied myself doing what I love most. Halloween things. I cut out bats, I decorated my whole station, made it my own. Got a few compliments on it. And above all.....I HID that damn radio. There's no way hes taking it from me tomorrow. SUCK THAT, DAVE. He can go spit for all I care. All I want to focus on is tomorrow. I dont need them. I dont need their crap. Tomorrow I'm going to just be my character and brush them off my shoulders. -Warren Sidenote: I've realized today that I have mastered the skill of "Plastic Face" when I'm breaking and bleeding on the inside. It's becoming rather useful and decieving.

I never thought of paperwork as a trigger. For anything really. Depression, anxiety, etc. But I came to realize it today. I woke up extra early and left to run some errands, knowing I had to build up some courage. I paid my bill (some of it at least) to the hospital, and stopped by the local pharmacy for a few things for my costume on friday, then I made one more stop. The councilling building, where I'll be going. After pulling into the driveway that I nearly passed by because I were nervous, I pulled in and instantly didnt want to leave the safety of my vehicle. "You're only picking up paperwork. It'll only take a second" I kept telling myself. It took several urges of courage for me to rip myself from my Jeep and stumble up to the doorway. I were instantly greeted at the front door by an overly twitchy man waiting for his doctor, and surprised to see that the waiting room was full with awaiting guests. One of which were mumbling rather violently at himself about breaking someone's face. I had to remind myself that this werent the normal doctors office and theres going to be some odd ducks here, but it didnt make me feel any better. "Am I damaged?" I thought to myself. "Am I here with the schitzophrenics and mentally insane because I too, am crazy?" It werent nice to label people I didnt even know, but with my nerves being on haywire...I jumped to conclusions about Mr. Twitch and Mr. Angry. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. After getting my paperwork, I fled like a chicken in a fox den, safe back in my car away from people. I thought "No biggy. Just fill out some info, write down my address and such...and I'll be done. No problem." Well, it werent that easy. Sure they asked my name, age, address and all the normal shinanigans, but it were ELEVEN PAGES (No kidding, and back to back pages! so like 22 pages of info!). I'm going to go through the paperwork that I had to do, little bits here and there, in case anyone is doing the same thing for the first time as well. I dont want you to be caught off guard! Dont be afraid to stop and think about your answers before putting them down! The first clue that this werent normal paperwork was it asked for my name, first last and middle. Easy. "Preferred name or nickname" No one has ever asked me that before....I've NEVER seen it on paper before....I had to actually stop and think. I were being given the choice? This never happens though.... The next was the mindnumbing task of checking boxes of the concerns or symptoms I've had recently. I had seven Well, eight. They didnt have a box for the gender thing, so they had me add it in writing. They asked about stresses or life changes (For me, it would be the coming out to limited amount of people in my life about being transgendered, which has caused a lot of stress) Next they ask if you've seen a therapist in the past, and for how long, blah blah blah. (This is after two pages of insurance and contact information, the usual blargness) Then another surprise. List your family while growing up, but it goes with "Relationship, first names, and PERSONALITY/Mental health issues" My mother, withholding names here...Is somewhat controlling, manipulative, strict, and stubborn. But god knows I love her. I'd like to slap her sometimes, like.....really hard. But I still love her. We have a lot of history of not getting along..... Next was my father. Sadly my father passed away in an auto/tractor trailer accident when I were about nine, so I cant say full heartedly that I knew everything about my father. Other than he was the most remarkable man on the face of the earth. Outspoken until provoked, but sweet and caring...My real life prince charming. Then I have my older sister, a drama queen and attention hog. My brother, who became angry and violent after my father's death. Younger sister who is more like me than she realizes, outspoken, quiet, favored at a young age then seemed to be forgotten. Then my youngest brother, who is loud and frustrating and autistic, but I wouldnt change him for the world. They ask about your childhood and to check off a few boxes (were you happy, neglected, moved a lot, abused, no friends, abused sexually, popular, shy, depressed, things like that.) They'll ask for additional info of your childhood. For me, I always had to fight for the spotlight as a child. My older sister was daddy's first girl, so they always went out horseback riding. It was 'their time'. I understood that...But I liked horses too. My brother was my father's only son, so of course they went hunting....I liked hunting too. My baby sister was his baby and his little princess, being only about two at the time. So of course she got a lot of attention. I got whatever was left over. I remember only going hunting with my father once or twice. Horseback riding....never, that I remember. Most of the time I watched in depression and abandonment sensations as he played with my siblings. The black sheep only get to watch. By the time he were done, he were too tired, or couldnt think of what we could do together. My mom wasnt exactly the 'sit and play' with her kids type. Then they ask about who you live with now, and the same personality thing. I couldnt really think of much to say about the personalities of the people I live with now aside from anger issues, controlling, manipulating, drama fests. The usual human aspects, I've noticed. For some reason they asked if I lived in a house, dorm, apartment, etc. Not sure how that's relevant.... Asked about marriages, failed marriages, etc. What you do for work, what you like to do for work, how often you work, what you like/dislike about your job, blah blah blah. Home life: Your hobbies, how often you talk to people outside of work, how many people you talk to about your feelings, are you satisfied with your romantic life, describe your romantic life, OI VEY. Then it goes on to HEALTH ISSUES. What accidents or illnesses have you suffered, what meds do you take, how many hours of sleep do you get, how often to you drink or take drugs, exercise, tobacco, physicals. Then one question stumped me. "List your personal strengths and important accomplishments" That's when it hit me... I couldnt think of any strengths. I've made no important accomplishments....what am I doing with my life? Am I literally just waking up, going to work, and calling it good? What greatness have I achieved? I felt pathetic. I had to leave it blank....I could think of nothing. I still cant. My romantic life is in shambles, I've done nothing to help or end it. My mental health is waving back and forth like a piece of string in a breeze, yet I've done nothing to tie it down. My physical health isnt the greatest, yet I continue to do things I shouldnt. I get told every single night "Put the heavy trashbags on a cart, dont put them on your shoulders" Yet I do it anyway, suffering sore back, lightheadedness, pulled muscles and even bruising on my shoulders. Yet....I keep doing it. What good have I accomplished in my life? Nothing. I cant even transition without chickening out because of what people think about me. I wear boxers, thick hoodies, binders, compression shirts, mens jeans, steel toe boots....yet I'm still always going to be a girl to the people around me. I've accomplished...nothing. -Warren

Thank you both for the comments I'm so glad to have such supportive people here :3 I'll totally check that out Emma, and thanks for the top & heads up, mikah I hope it goes well too! I'm nervous! -Warren

Yup. That's right ladies and gents and dogs and cats, its a second post in one day. The reasons: Because I can. Well, that and the post I did previously was actually for yesterday that I was too tired and lazy to do last night. THIS ONE is for TODAY. Now, as some of you might or might not know, Halloween is coming. Like...in two days. And if anyone knows me personally, they know that Halloween is practically my birthday. Not really, I was born in May. But it's THAT important to me I LOVE HALLOWEEN!! It's been my favorite holiday since the beginning of my miserably misguided life. Every year since I were twelve, I've been a vampire. Vampires are everything to me I love the lore, the stories, the guidelines...So much in fact, I had joined a vampiric coven when I were sixteen. Shortlived, sadly, as I had to move AGAIN. But it was still epic. The only year I deviated from being one of the undead was when I was Wednesday Adamms for my boyfriends grandmother, who hated vampire lore. But this year.....IM DEVIATING AGAIN! Vampire? Too mainstream this year. What else is equally as fabulous that has been left in the shadows since Twilight, True Blood, Vampire Diaries and The Originals? Lycans. Werewolves! So, I'm a werewolf this year. So excited!! I have to go grab some shinanigans to throw on my face and make myself look epic for friday, because its WOOT WOOT!! DRESS DOWN DAY AT WORK! Halloween night, all the chefs can wear WHATEVER THEY WANT (as long as it wont get in the food. Hairnets or hats still manditory, just ANY hat) I'm so excited ROFL I got my fangs as you can see in the pic ILL SHOW YOU HOW IT LOOKS ON FRIDAY! -Warren the Werewolf (has sort of a ring to it )

Love the name emma Took me a long while to decide on mine. I dont remember exactly how I settled on Warren, to be honest. I know that it means 'defender of friends' which was fitting, since I'm always defending and taking care of other people, even ones I hardly know. The full name I had settled on was Warren Renexius (was my online name for several years, AND a book character I created) Ornan (my dads middle name). It's sort of long, but I've learned to love it :3 Emma Sweet is adorable! -Warren

After my last post/blog, I figured it would be a good idea to give an update. No, I were not fired. But I almost was. I went in and talked to my boss about it, and explained that I'd had an anxiety attack, which I'm prone to have. We talked it through and I assured him it wouldnt happen again unless nessesary, and I would tell them next time if I needed to leave. He accepted, and I was allowed to work. I were on my best behaviour all day, or as best as I could. Sometimes theres days when things are so hectic and chaotic, you dont have time to think! But yesterday was so slow, I thought I'd fall asleep. There was no food to prep, no chores to be done, and nothing to do aside from 'look busy or go home'. Which is really hard to do when there's nothing to be done. So I literally crawled under the counters wiping up dust off the shelves, just so they 1)couldnt see me 2)looked busy. I kept busy mentally with thinking things through and trying to keep myself calm, listening to music and thinking about the books I'm writing. It all seemed fairly good at the time. Then....it happened. I were standing on the other side of my counter refilling the serving stations (its set up buffet style) when one of the dish girls comes up to my counter. I was friendly and smiled with a "Hey, hows it going?" Her response? "Hey! So, I hear you've been spreading lies about me like a b****" Um.....what? Okay, backtrack to the highschool drama. "Jo" is the french student currently calling me a lying b****. "Britt" is a newer girl. Britt needed a locker. Management gave her one, no problem. Apparently said empty, filthy locker was previously Jo's locker. Jo got pissed, started ranting, left angry letters on the locker...ending in Britt moving her stuff to another locker to share with another coworker. I figured it was done and over with. Apparently not. "What lies? If I'm spreading lies, I'd at least like to know what I'm supposably saying" I told her. But she shrugged and walked off. I'm sorry, but I dont like Drive By Accusations. So, I went to find her. Me being a stubborn pain in the ***, I dont let things like that go easily. I found her, and confronted her with a "Do you want to talk about this here, or go outside? Because we ARE going to talk about whatever the hell that was." She tries pushing me around and giving me a sobstory, which I deflected quiet easily with facts about what she were saying herself were the only things I had repeated, so in turn did that mean she as lying to begin with? I confronted her calmly and told her "If you had taken me aside and said 'hey can we talk about something?' then I would have been fine with that. Let's talk. But when you come up to me, on the front line, in front of all those people the way that you did, saying what you did....It's inappropriate and it was NOT appreciated. You want to talk about this like an adult, then be an adult. Talk. But dont do it in front of students, dont do it in front of other coworkers. This is not a competition for drama and this is not a popularity contest. You want to accuse me of something, then get your facts straight and dont walk off like a coward. If you're going to throw things in someones face, at least stick around to see their reaction." I didnt hit, I didnt touch her, I didnt swear. I thought I handled it rather well, for me anyway. Just saying. IN OTHER NEWS: I have officially been signed up for a councilor/ phsyciatrist for my gender related issues and anxiety disorder. I'm awaiting a phonecall once they pair me up with one, and will do the paperwork when I get there. I'm glad it's set up, but nervous as hell. Got to admit, I almost dont want to go. I've had nothing but people trying to convince me for so long that this is a phase, and even I have to question it sometimes. But deep down, I know theyre wrong. But that little fear in me cant help but worry that maybe it's just in my head. I know people say "if you know in your heart that it is what it is, then it is". But what if I dont know what my heart is saying, because its too overclouded by what everyone else says? I'm just worried that they'll look at me and say "Nope, you're fine. It's stress/depression related, and we cant help you. You'll have to stay the way you are" Besides, me talking face to face with someone about my feelings? Not gonna go well. Think I'm going to go bury my head in some cement. Warren

So I did get ahold of my boss and explained to him that I'd had a panic attack (which they know I get sometimes, I've passed out at work before) and that I was very very sorry, and showed up an hour early to work the next day so we could talk about it. He said basically just "dont do it again. If you need to leave, tell someone. We cant tell you no, but we'd like to know when some of our staff decide to walk out" So, I still have a job. Unfortunatly while on my best behaviour, drama went down last night >.< I'll explain in my next post/blog. As for the writing things down, Ill try that. I do go outside for fresh air when I need to, or sometimes I just retreat to the bathroom stalls with my ipod and calm down until I feel safe enough to try again. Works sometimes. Thank you for your suggestions! All and any are always welcome Warren

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

Today I did the unthinkable. I did something I desperatly have been avoiding for sooooo long. I put on a bra. My "binders" smelled like old deodorant, were gross with sweat from work, and I had no time to hand wash and dry them by the time I needed to go to work. So I had to resort to digging through my clothes and finding that dreaded contraption. Instantly I hated it. The straps felt like they were digging into my shoulders, the very hug of it felt forgien and misguided. The whole way to work, I wished I could turn that car around and go home and put my smelly gear back on. I avoided stopping at the store for this reason, so no calming Arizona Tea. Which meant stress. For some reason, when I'm at work and after my boyfriend leaves his shift..having a tea helps my nerves. It's not helping the diet, but I feel that if it is my only 'out' to the b.s. of work, so be it. But today I didnt have one. I kept knocking things over with my dreaded "tumors", getting my chef's coat all filthy (which was a HUGE 'no no' in the kitchen I learned at. My old Head Chef Woodward's very french tainted speech about clean jackets and spotless sleeves pestered me all night). It was extremely frustrating. On any normal nights, when wearing my gear, I feel fine. Yes, I have to go into the bathroom now and again and retuck it back down my work pants because it rides up, or readjust "them" because one is off set from the other and it looks funny; but I like it! I feel comfortable, finally! Not today. I just wanted to cross my arms over my chest, stick out my tongue and tell everyone to **** off. Thankfully my nightly meds were increased a bit so my anxiety didnt kick my royally unforgiving butt, but nevertheless it was irritating. When I dont have my gear on, it simply feels like theyre the center of attention. Even if no one is looking at them! It feels like they are. The only things I kept in mind to keep me busy all day were two things. 1)Justin (my bf) bought me a tea and it was waiting for me at home and 2) I had a set of custom fangs from Scarecrow Vampfangs waiting to be customized all for me. Life. Complete. I noticed something though. When I'm not wearing what I want, I'm severely uncomfortable. When I'm uncomfortable, I eat. When I eat from being uncomfortable, I eat BAD things. I normally avoid desserts at work, at all costs. Diet, darn it! Diet!.......I had a mint brownie with a scoop of vanila ice cream. Granted it was a small scoop and the brownie was the smallest one on the tray, but Still!! I should have said no! I shouldnt have fallen that far! I'm still kicking myself in the butt for it, and that was way back at lunch time. It's 11:15pm right now. We bought candy bars for at home but...I feel too guilty to eat one. I'm barely making it through the fruit juices I bought because theyre super sugary. I was so guilt ridden that I actually vollunteered to work an extra day this week. Yikes, what was I thinking?! Too late to back out now, they need me to come in. Well, tomorrow I'm off to Gamestop to get a new (newish. refurbished, 4th Gen) ipod because I've dropped my old one so many times that the glass is all falling off, and I keep cutting myself on it. Sort of excited about that, as long as I'm actually able to pick one up. Maybe then I can start that photography a little, eh? Eh? lol I'll maybe post a few if I start doing it. God knows with all the fall leaves in my area, I could leave for work a few minutes earlier so I can stop and take a few snapshots. That'd be nice. Plenty of nice views around here. Well, I think that's it for now. I think. If I think of anything else, it'll be in the next blog XD Tootles for now, -Warren

I'm going to be doing some more looking around and whatnot, and order a new one for an xmas present for myself. I suspect that the torso compression shirt that I bought is exactly as you said, and not meant to hide anything in any way. Though it has helped with my back pain As for the dryer situation, DULY NOTED! I was also told to wash them by hand because it's easier on them? I've done that before, and hung it up to dry over my shower rod. Seemed to have done the trick. I was wearing axe spray deodorant but had to go back to a gel, so hopefully its not going to ruin or weaken the material at all >.< here's hoping! Thank you for your insights and help! -Warren

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

My problem is time too :/ I work 10am-8pm, so all the good shots are gone by the time I get a chance to do anything :(

I considered photography but I lack a worthy camera lol and I couldnt take pictures of people, I'm too shy. I like taking pictures of nature instead -Warren

I went to see my doctor again today, simply for a check in or a check up on my medications and what not. Normally I'm very nervous about seeing the doctor. I had a lot of health issues I were dealing with and always worried about 'getting in trouble' with my doctor. Granted, I love her to pieces, and she cares more than any other doctor I have EVER had. But in the same aspect, shes not afraid to tell me how it is, and boot me in the butt for not taking care of myself. When I finally told her about the self harm, she were not only concerned, but angry with me for not telling her to begin with. She gave me plenty of ideas of helping myself, and sent me off with a parting threat. "If you dont realize how special you are and nip this problem in the butt, I'll find you even more help than what I can give you, and you will not like it. I promise." I knew what the 'more help' was. I'd heard about it plenty enough. Mental Help Ward at the hospital. NO. THANK. YOU. ANYWAY.....after being lectured about weight and this and that..I was really nervous to go back to the doctors today. I'd been working really hard at behaving and eating right and whatnot, and this monday (10/20/14) will be my THIRD WEEK of no self harm. Which, for anyone who's struggled with it, knows thats a HUGE deal for me. I took the steps to protect myself and even handed over my instruments, and informed two people of where I were getting these items...so they could remove them for good. It was hard, but I'm glad I did. Because in a desperate need for relief, I went looking for where I get my normal tools. And found nothing but air. So I were forced to cope. And as horrible as it was that day, I'm glad for it. To find another way to deal with my growing anxiety and gutwrenching depression, I turned to my skills, as my doctor instructed. Drawing, music, and writing. I have started to RP (roleplay, in form of book writing paragraph by paragraph with another participant. In this case, my good friend Destinee who has been nothing but awesome and caring) on my ipod during work to distract me from the stressful reminder that I'm surrounded by hundreds of people all day. (I work at a college dining hall as a chef) And though I'm not supposed to be on my ipod, everyone assumes I'm just changing music, or know I do it for my anxiety, and no one has told me not to. Yet. Here's hoping they wont. When I cant RP, or when I'm not in the mood, I draw. I have a designated book which I have dubbed "My Blade Book". On the back, I have written my favorite quotes in marker. I'll share them with you "To Thine Own Self be True" by shakespeare "Without struggle, there is no progess" by Fredrick Douglas "The Good die young, but the greatest survive" by My Chemical Romance "We've come a long way since that day, and we'll never look back at the faded silhouettes" Avicii "One final fight for this tonight" Black Veil Brides "Yes, sir. I'm one of a Kind" G-Dragon "It's my party, I'll do what I want. So while you sit and watch me, I'll keep dancing" Jessie J "Dont lose who you are in the blur of the stars. Seeing is decieving, dreaming is believing. ITS OK NOT TO BE OK. Just be true to who you are" Jessie J On the inside covers I have (Front) Blade Free Book. Draw, dont scar. F*** the world, live for you. The good die young but the greatest survive the stereotype. Dont just be "Another boy without a sharper knife" (Back) "Sometimes its hard to follow your heart. Tears dont mean you're losing, everybody's bruising. Just be true to who you are. Theres nothing wrong with who you are" by Jessie J, my favorite artist. I draw whatever comes to mind, be it angry faces or just something to calm me. And honestly.....it helps. A LOT. ANYONE going through what I have been, should consider this. Find a book, any old book. Write your name on it. Cover it in quotes that inspire and soothe you, and just put what you feel in it. Use it as your own personal outlet. And if you feel brave enough, share it with someone. It helps me a lot. Aside from my Blade Book, I blog. Why? Because it helps. I have a physical social anxiety disorder. To put it simply, I cant deal with talking to people. Face to face, in physical contact, I just cant handle it. I get frustrated, flustered, uneasy, anxious...you name it. On here....I feel so blessed, I must say. I can blog and vent and talk about my whole transgender journey...and not be judged. I dont have to spend all night deleting harmful and negative comments, and it is sooooooo so soothing to know that I dont have to worry about who is reading my blogs. Because even though to me this is more like a diary, I can take comfort in the fact that I'm not keeping it to myself. I'm sharing, and maybe....MAYBE even helping someone else like me, who is reading it and realizing...they're not alone. That someone out there is going through things JUST like them. I love the fact that I can talk about anything on here without editing out some parts so I dont offend someone, because I know everyone on here who reads this is nothing but supportive and caring and trusting. I cannot possibly express how appreciated it is. But, I got severely side tracked, as always. THE DOCTOR VISIT! So, the outcome: I have lost 15 pounds since my last visit (which my doctor was over the top excited about ) and I have no new self harm wounds (which she also got super excited about lol) and I told her about all the different things I've been doing as outlets instead. The writing and drawing and whatnot. Also the tattoo idea was supported greatly, her words being "Out of Sight, Out of Mind. You dont see it (scars), you wont think about it. Plus with something beautiful there, you wont want to wreck it!" Which I agreed with 100000%. Though its waiting till the end of november because its sort of expensive. She urged me to try and lose another 15pnds by the end of janurary (GAME ON! Right...after....this bowl of icecream. HEY I DESERVE IT DARN IT!) And to keep up my hard work of resistance. Hell. Yes. First time I've left the doctors with a smile on my face Alrighty world, I'm done ranting and raving. Even my crappy night at work couldnt push away my happiness of a silly doctors visit. I'm on a roll, darn it! -Warren

Thank for for the "Great tatt idea" Regretfully it is going to have to wait until the end of november, but it WILL be happening lol I have checked the first link but werent sure what I was looking at, to be honest with you. As for support groups in my area...I live in a very remote place. It's an hour to anything with more than a two pump gas station :/ The closest location on the site you included is an hour and a half away from me, and its only an HIV/STD awareness center. Next one is almost two hours away, and only serves MTF feminine resource. Sadly its one of the problems with living in the middle of no where :/ -Warren

Sometimes I forget when this all started, or if it ever had a start to begin with. "To Thine Own Self Be True" Shakespeare said that. In his act of Hamlet...Polonius in Hamlet said "This above all: to thine own self be true,And it must follow, as the night the day,Thou canst not then be false to any man.Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!" The first bit always got to me. 'To Thine Own Self Be True" I didnt discover this quote until one night I were surfing the internet, my left arm numb and puffy from another bad day, and it just randomly popped out at me. I'd always been a fan of Shakespeare and Longfellow, and of course Mark Twain. But it were on that particular night, when I had attempted and failed to take too many medications. I'd simply had enough. I didnt want to deal with the pain and anguish of life unknown. To endure the suffering frustration of not knowing who I were, or what I were doing, or why I were so cruelly cursed the way I were. I kept thinking "If there even is a god, why would he play a joke so cruel as to put my mind in the wrong body, just to watch me suffer? And not only let others alienate me, but let me alienate myself." I were no stranger to pain. I were a very clumsy child by birth. Constantly breaking bones or bruising my flesh by accident, so much in fact that the doctors pulled me aside at the age of thirteen and asked if my widowed mother were abusing me. She werent, of course. But I were always bruised. At the age of seventeen or so, I began the foolish endeavor of burning. I'd heat up a butter knife with a candle, and burn myself. On my neck, my shoulders, my arms...none scarred though. I werent sure why I were doing it, I only knew that it made my emotional breakdowns better. I knew there were something going on with me, and I couldnt figure out what. I were always sad, always annoyed, always angry. Nothing anyone could do or say would help, but increase it. Unfortunatly, nothing my mother would say or do helped either. She seemed to make things so much more worse, and it wouldnt be until I got older did I realize she werent doing it to be mean. She just didnt understand what was happening to her daughter. I refused dresses, I despised shopping, and every part of me wanted to break down and start to scream when she demanded I keep my hair long. I hated myself, and I couldnt even understand why. Looking in the mirror, staring at my reflection, and wishing I could make it disappear. All of it. I didnt know what I wanted different, but I just wanted it. I didnt understand why the terms "miss, ma'am, girl, woman" offended me so much. They're just words, right? Just things people would say? It never occurred to me... When people would say "because you're a girl" or "girls shouldnt do that", All I wanted to do was scream on top of my lungs and tell them to shove it down their throats. I were so violent...all the time. I became severely depressed, and nothing could soothe me. Id always wanted to continue doing self harm, but I never worked up the nerve. I couldnt get myself to start. You see...I didnt want to die. I didnt want to take that chance, and have an accident. I just wanted to numb out the mental anguish. Back this year, I had finally leapt that boardwalk and plunged into the darkness of regret. I had finally told my boyfriend that I were bisexual. That part was easy. He were actually glad for it. But when I told him I were male, just not physically, my life turned upside down. Our relationship strained, though neither of us would let go of it. We couldnt...not after four years together. I found something at my place of work, in the first aid box on the wall. At first it were innocent. I had a splinter, so I found something called a "Splinter-Out". Nothing that could cause serious, life threatening damage. I took out a splinter, and were amazed by how well it worked... And I started my journey through the darkness. It started with just a few. Two cuts, that's all. But then it became four. And five. As I sit here, I can count out the twenty-five little pink scars on my left and right arms. And those are the ones that remained, not including the ones that never stayed behind. It became a staple for my anxiety, to hold back my fits of emotional breakdowns. The physical pain numbed out the emotional turmoil. But when I realized that I couldnt 'just stop', it scared me. I turned to my boyfriend, and a few online friends. So far, I'm on day 14 of no cutting. And it's not easy. Today has been horrible.... That's why I'm writing. To distract myself. To pass the time, and keep myself safe. And mostly...to get it off my chest. I'm in the process of getting a tattoo over my scars. A nice victorian gothic scroll over my forearm. And the quote on top of it? "To Thine Own Self Be True" -Warren

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

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

So this is my first time with this...First time even blogging, actually. At the current moment I am several hours overdue to go to bed before a trip back north to see my mother, and perhaps this is why I have finally convinced myself to perhaps seek some guidance and support from others 'like me'. I say that as if I'm damaged cans at a grocery store..that's rather shameful I suppose. So, a little about myself I guess? I'm 22 years old, I love horseback riding and enjoy writing in my own books, IMVU, and cooking. Oh yeah, and I'm transgendered? I think. I'm not entirely sure what you would consider it yet. I were born genetically female, but always knew I werent. I remember the first vivid time when I realized it was what I wanted and needed, I were probably 6 or 7. That was the first time I realized that there was something strange going on, and wondered 'what if I magically just POOF turned into a boy?'. I got excited to that notion. Till I were informed that it were impossible. I went several years denying myself the possibility until I discovered that yes, it IS possible to change myself to suit how I saw myself. I were so excited, but my family were not the sort of people I felt comfortable talking to about it. So I kept it bottled up, sending subtle and ignored hints. Soon after I decided to do something about it, I met my boyfriend, now of four years. I did not tell him about my intentions or thoughts, hoping that perhaps actual dating would cause these feelings to go away. Like a phase, perhaps. But they didnt. They got worse, and I finally broke down and told him. He's accepting, and is trying to understand and help me. But I see the look in his eyes.... I'm now drowning in antidepressants and meds for my anxiety disorder, yet still have found myself miserable. I avoid mirrors, cringe when people call me by my born gender, and curl up in a corner when I realize that I have no way of fixing it yet. I cannot start a transition on the outside because not only do I have no idea where to start, but who do I turn to? I finally told my doctor, and she has been kind about it, and has tried to look for someone to help me out. But, I have to wait. She said it could be until the end of the year before I even hear anything.....this is agonizing. Is it possible to absolutely despise your appearance so badly that you imagine changing it yourself even if it could be life threatening? I've had several days where I've wanted to find a sharp enough knife, and "take care" of my "problem" areas. But, for natural and sane reasons, this has never gone farther than rather gross mental images. I'm at a loss. I dont know where to turn. I have one transgendered friend, but she is across the country, and though i greatly value her opinions and support, its slightly different. I seek help from a fellow FTM, and she's MTF. So sometimes I fear that what she knows is going to be the opposite of what I actually need. Anyway, I'm rambling now. Guess thats what happens when you decide to blog at 2o'clock in the morning -Warren