Being triggered and other stuff
I was reading Twitter today and there was a post where a mother said her son was being teased by another boy at the pool for being a girl. It brought back memories of when I was called a boy growing up but then people would say sorry I mean girl. It would always hurt me though I never said anything. How could I? I felt like if I did, I would be corrected and told I was not a boy because of my genitals. I had some vivid memories come back and it just made me sad that I had to hide myself for so long.
I wanted to go out today but it was too muggy. I should shower as I don’t remember the last time I did. I want to shave my beard off. I had two cups of coffee to ward of naps. There still isn’t a baseball game until tomorrow. I am going to have a black bean burger for supper.
I’ve been feeling blah today. I just don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I should go to Starbucks and write. I miss doing that and Starbucks has opened up seating again. I am fully vaccinated so I should go.
I just texted my niece as to when will I see her again and she said she is spending the night tonight. Yay! I get to hug her and see her for at least 24 hours. I miss her so much. My nephew has been such a grump since he is unemployed. He barely leaves his room to talk to anyone.
Tomorrow I am meeting with my psychiatrist and surgeon, back to back appointments. Going to be a little stressful. I got a list of questions for the surgeon. I have a countdown of the days till surgery and I am both nervous and excited for this to happen. I also need to talk to psychiatrist about possible med changes. I was going to ask to be put on Pristiq but it can cause nausea and I don’t want to be nauseous. I might just ask for an increase in the citalopram as there is room there for some increase.
I watched a YouTube video on a hysterectomy. I was a little grossed out at first but then was ok. I wanted to see what was done while the procedure happened. It wasn’t as bloody as I thought it would be but I know I am going to be wicked sore, to say the least.