Back on Twitter!

Back on Twitter.

I am back on Twitter. I was really getting down because I couldn’t access my account and Twitter support finally reached out to me to clear the error that was causing the text messages not to go through. I took a screen shot of the backup code so that I would have it should I get locked out again. I missed my tweeps so much. I deactivated the acct I was using.

I sent this to my therapist and PCP: “hi,

I am having a hard time with the gender dysphoria around top surgery and the stupid limitation of the BMI. I can be so suicidal at times because I can’t stand to look at my chest and knowing weight is what is keeping me from this goal is killing me. I lost some weight due to covid but gained some back once I started eating again. I’m not good with diet and my appetite is either there or it isn’t due to the depression. I am 192 right now and was 187 last week. This is stressing me out and I am not sure who to talk to about it.”

I hate that a BMI is preventing much needed suicide prevention work. I am in the mood to take a lot of pills right now but I won’t. It is just a feeling that will pass. I hate feeling this way. I don’t know why there is a restriction for surgery. This is so fucking stupid. I feel like it is discrimination against obese people. I just want these things off my chest! They don’t belong there. And it sucks that now they are hairy and will only become more hairy as the T dose has increased. I just want to be flat chested. What is wrong with that? I am a fucking man for crying out loud. I don’t even care if I have nipples or not. Just want the damn things off.

My therapist canceled therapy yesterday due to an immediate personal problem. I guess dealing with my mother on this Mother’s day is all on me. I have decided to get her a son card. I will get it tomorrow when I mail my letter. My cousin sent me a box of her husband’s things. Her husband is my godfather. I haven’t opened it yet because I am so emotional about other things that I just can’t deal with more grief. I miss my godfather so much. He was such a good man.

I am so tired today. I have been up since 0100. I have tried going back to sleep but I keep failing. This UTI is kicking my ass. It still hurts to pee and my urine is cloudy. It probably smells but I can’t smell things right now because of covid. I had Covid PT yesterday and it killed me. Made me so fricken tired. I thought I would sleep through the night but I only slept for a few hours before waking up at 1. The UTI is making me pee every 2 fucking hours. It sucks. I can’t do anything until I finish the antibiotics. I haven’t cathed at all because it hurts.

Don’t call me daughter 6

Don’t call me daughter 6

Yesterday I was in the kitchen with my mother and I was in a mood. I wasn’t feeling so great and just wanted to do what I needed to and go back to my room. My mother was there and asked what was wrong. She wanted me to talk to her. Fuck that. She lost that right when she refused to call me son. From now on I will correct her when she is misgendering me. But I am not going to talk to her for any reason other than what goes on in the house. I am not going to talk to her like I did before about my ailments and doctor appointments. She is getting to be the egg donor and if that is what it takes to cut off feelings from her then so be it.

I’ve been having a hard time with the cramps. I don’t know if they are uterine or bladder related but as an experiment, I cathed and felt relief at first only to have severe pain afterwards.  I don’t know what to make of it and I have cathed since. Taking a double dose of Miralax was a bad idea. I had colon blow and woke up with crap in my pants. Luckily, I didn’t get any on the bed. I had to shower and what is worse my mother had to use the bathroom so I was so embarrassed. I need to time taking it right. Thing is it is so unpredictable when it works. It could be a few hours or could be a day. There is no time table to expect when to go.

I am still have cramps and being really down about it. I called my gyn to make an appointment for the exam. It is in May. I see the uro NP this week so I am going to tell her and ask for a urine culture to be done just to be sure I don’t have an infection that could be causing this. I really am not looking forward to surgery again but there is little choice I have. Once the offending organ is gone is should be apparent what is causing what. I doubled my bladder spasms pill yesterday to see if it would help and it did a little bit. Maybe this is bladder related. I won’t know until the uterus is gone. I got my bladder on a schedule again. I didn’t want to do it but I have gone past the six hours I am supposed to go. I can’t keep holding on to my urine for so long. It could be why I have spasms as well.

I wonder if my mother is ashamed of me and that is why she doesn’t want to call me son. It would make sense. I don’t get the sense she is proud of me. I just don’t understand why she can’t accept her child. This bothers me so much. When you bring it up to her, she is dismissive. Then I think about all the abuse she put me through and it just makes me so sad and angry. She used her trust as a mother to do her evil bidding of abusing and touching me when she had no right to touch or look. I get mad at my pediatrician who documented all these things and didn’t do a damn thing about it.

Trans issues 27.7.19

I can’t wait for top surgery. Things on chest are giving me such a hard time. I feel so ugly and humiliated. This isn’t me when I see them.

Kind of worried with the CRPS on left side. That is the side my left ankle is affected. The way they described how they cut the nerve to the nipple makes me nervous. I could lose feeling but that isn’t a major concern for me. I just want the fucking things off!! The right one might be more of a problem as it is bigger. Swear I have an orange on left and a small watermelon on right. And fuckers are heavy. But it might be that I just hate them so damn much. Worst part is they have become hairy which really bothers me. Becoming a man is so hard. Makes you feel really fucked because you aren’t congruent with how you feel.

The major thing is getting these things off. I would tomorrow if I could but I am being “selfish” waiting for the damn construction of the house to start and finish. I thought it would at least be started but it hasn’t. I haven’t asked my sister for fear of another argument. Been doing small stuff in my room as it is all I can handle.

Yesterday just putting groceries away flared my back up. It really scared me as I couldn’t touch my back without it hurting. I haven’t had that bad of pain since getting cauda equina syndrome x2. I have no red flag symptoms but I didn’t last time. I lost function of my bladder today. Things with it have been messed up since the middle of May. I moved to sit up and reached for my laptop which wasn’t too far from my grasp when urine squirted out. Luckily it wasn’t too much, but freaked me out. That was how I got CES (cauda equina syndrome) the second time. I had severe back pain and then started leaking more than I usually do. The disc was a different level than the first. And according to the surgeon it was huge. He had no idea how I was still walking. Been having intrusive memories most of the night and right now as I am describing it. I’ve never really talked about how I felt about it. I knew what I had and just focused on getting better, making sure I didn’t do what I did the first time, which was basically not having a clue what to do or who to see. I didn’t go to Spaulding, which is a huge rehab hospital because I’ve dealt with their lab and just thought all the people there didn’t know what they were doing. I was wrong and I am glad I was as i got a terrific PT now for my CRPS (complex regional pain syndrome) stuff.

I hope doing all the things I’ve been doing doesn’t cause me to blow a disc that is already herniated. I have herniated discs from levels L2-S1, worse at L5-S1 and again at L2-3 where I had CES x2. My first diagnosis was at level L4-L5. I fear if I have surgery again, I might need a fusion and I’ve heard bad stories about them. No one I know has found relief from them. And the stuff I read was fusions were only to be done on the neck, not the lower vertebrae. That is why I never want to have it done. I’d rather be in pain, but if other stuff is going on like loss of bowel/bladder, weakness in lower extremity, numbness from anywhere waist down (including saddle area and sex organs), then I will consider it. But only if I have a capable surgeon one who has done them a lot of times and have had success with them. I don’t want a neurosurgeon who only does the brain or pituitary gland. The whole thing scares me.

When I was able to see my therapist again (the 16yr one), she kept on telling me I went through a trauma. I stay away from that fucking word so much. I denied it tooth and nail until I started having PTSD symptoms. To this day I cannot go near the 3rd floor of the hospital where I worked. That is where the operating rooms were. I always wanted to see them but not as a patient!

I sent my psych an email about the top surgery and how I felt about it. She will sign me off on it but I really want to have a discussion with her before she does, just to make sure I am ready and she knows I am ready. It is a huge deal and I’ve gone back and forth with it in my mind. From i am attached and what will it mean to not have them there to seeing a man’s chest and saying I want that. I want to be flat and not have these things. I tell you, when they started developing, it threw me for a fucking loop. I thought getting my menses was bad. Nope. Having things grow was not what I wanted. Then to have a mother molest you because of “concern” more than once because one was bigger than the other and sending me to see a cosmetic surgeon when I was 13, fucked with me so fucking bad. I was so embarrassed this male doctor was talking to my mother about it but it would be when I was older. I nearly wanted to fucking die on the spot. I didn’t want them to be the same, I wanted them fucking gone!! I had already started hating my mother since I was 10. This just added to it more. Makes me feel so ashamed I have them and aside from cutting them off, there is nothing else I can do. Makes me feel really depressed, like I am in this pit I can never get out of.

But none of this matters if my CRPS pain isn’t controlled better. I have a date planned to end it. I am trying so hard not to think about it as I want to see my psych again. At the same time, while the cat’s away, the mice will play keeps running through my mind.

New Year 2019

I may throw in some goals but I really don’t expect them to come to fruition. I’ve been having a hard time sleeping past few nights. Pain has been making sleeping at night impossible. So I sleep during the day to wake up at night to stay up all night. Fun cycle.

Last night I was trying to sleep. I would slightly doze and then wake up in pain, either my foot or ankle or hip. 3 am my hip was hurting because my body was one way and it wanted to lay flat rather than on my side. Had to use a heating pad which needs replacing because it is worn out. It doesn’t get hot like it did only on high setting. So I had this on my hip. And waited for pain to calm down. Then put of the fucking blue, my foot/ankle explode and I am instantly suicidal. Like I want to kill myself right this second. I didn’t know how but as I lay there immobile, I thought of ways. And I swear if I could have moved and acted at that moment, I would have. I was so pissed off. I was a lot of things i don’t remember now nearly 24 hours later. I took an ativan when these thoughts and impulses passed and I could move my hip without screaming. I think I might have taken another pain med too because I was in pain. Around 6, I took 1 neurontin hoping for an hours sleep. It never came. My brain was just fantasizing all these things I had to do today and just wanted to say fuck it and sleep. Did I do that? No.

Around 1030 I got up to start the day. I had to cook 6 pounds of chicken wings for my sister’s party. I had two glasses of coffee before I started. I had to cut the chicken, wash, then cook it. It was falling off the bone when it was done and it was way too early for people to come in. So it just sat on my sister’s counter because my mother had to use our oven for her stuff.

It was a good party. I had two glasses of spiked eggnog. Hoping that would dull the physical pain. Nope. I had stuff to eat. Talked with my cousins. The pain started to get worse. I could barely walk. Noises were affecting me severely. Like I couldn’t handle the loud talk of anyone or the screaming of the two babies or my cousin playing something on his phone. It was just making pain worse. I left. I said happy new year good bye. I got upstairs and didn’t know if I was going to make it. I thought the eggnog was going to come up. I took some zofran. I was late with my meds so took them. I could not lie down. It cold in my room and my foot was so swollen my slipper made an indentation mark. And it was ice cold. Turn on broken heating pad! Luckily it never got painfully cold but did get painfully hot. I am still trying to sleep and failing. I should be tired because I technically have been awake since 30 Dec 7pm! I am not fucking tired. I should be. And after this, I am shutting off the lights and trying for sleep. I realized I probably been having problems because I turned up the heat a degree. Bad choice. I need cold. I should have known when I was sleeping with just my sheet on it was too hot in my room.

I don’t have any 2019 goals like I said. I wanted to end my life 24 hours ago and it is still fresh. I emailed my psych but she is out of office until Wed so probably not going to get a response. I don’t need the hospital. I really just need to stop having flares or have meds to control flares. And then longer I don’t and the longer they last, I am going to be a suicidal maniac. I am hoping it was just the stress of the holidays but I got huge financial worries this month. I got to pay for my meds which I knew but still impulsively bought shit off Amazon. I won’t know what anything costs until later today, I hope. I still won’t know if my therapist is a provider until I see him Wed. And then I will probably need to decrease our sessions because I can’t pay for them. Fun pit in my stomach right now. And then I worry my pain meds won’t get covered or T. We’ll see. I need a refill sometime this month. But if it is really expensive, I don’t know if I can afford it.

So more stress = more pain. Lovely cycle.