Been in a funk the past two days. I have ben really down because of the condition I have called CES, or Cauda Equina Syndrome. I have had to bladder accidents that have cut my mood to shreds. Then in my dreariness, I told one of my sisters that I wanted to be Mike. She was supportive but didn’t understand that the reason why I have been so miserable is because of being in the wrong body. I cried myself to sleep last night only to wake up at two o’clock in the morning. I didn’t fall back asleep until six thirty. I hate the disrupted sleep.
Now that she knows, I feel relieved but I have the urge to cut really bad. I hate myself and want relief. The only way I have been able to do that in the past is by cutting. But I am afraid that once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I took some meds to help calm me down but they have not kicked in yet. I have been up since nine thirty and really just don’t want to do anything. I just want to sleep but I am not. I played some online poker and lost a big amount of chips. Not a big deal as it’s not real money. I can always get it back or buy more chips.
I have been playing on the computer most of the morning trying to get rid of the awfulness that I feel. But nothing is working. I’m looking at razors and bandages. I am imagining how it will feel and if I will need stitches. That will suck as I will most likely be hospitalized. I should pack a bag just in case so my family knows what I need. I know I have a lot of writing to do but right now I just can’t do it. I don’t have the energy. I really want to go off on a person in the CESSG group for being a whinebag. She is complaining about everything that is wrong with her life. I hate people like that. Most of it has NOTHING to do with CES and that bothers me.
I still want to end my life. Nothing has changed my plans for my date with death. I have to have this just so that I can live. Surprisingly it is a national day of something. I forget what it was but it was pretty funny. I really have to decide what I want to do today to harm myself. I feel like I deserve it. The pain that I feel is intense and I can’t bear it too much longer, though I am trying. Though any time I talk about suicide or cutting pain is usually involved. It’s not a physical type of pain. Just a kind of heartache that won’t go away.
I am happy that I am transitioning but it’s hard as hell. One of my aunts suggested I say a Hail Mary ten times a day. I have been out of the Catholic church for years and the only way for me to remember the word is to look them up. I am not going to do that because I do not believe in prayer. I am not a religious person in the least. I wish people would just listen to me and not have too much to say other than they understand. Is that too much to ask. Most people when they open up to issues like I am describing just need an ear to vent out their frustration and maybe a shoulder to cry on. They don’t need their problem fixed or delegated to someone else. They just need support to get through that moment of time they are in distress.
Category: psychache
more on transitioning
I started the day with an unusual abundance of energy. I felt like I could face the world and was ready to take it on. That was until I had my therapy session and all bits went to hell. I didn’t want to do anything. I just wanted to curl up in bed and not do anything.
After session I felt a little better after talking about my TG stuff. This stuff is really complicated and I feel very alone with it though people around me are very supportive of it. I am trying to get used to the pronouns and the medical issues I am having. See I go to one place and only my psychiatrist knows my issues right now because I am a “beginner”. I have not told my PCP or any other of my many other care providers. Not like they would turn me away, or they might to another “qualified” individual. I just feel that right now since I am spotting I need to see someone. I got my periods stopped by birth control pills and trust me having to take female hormones to stop my menses kills me enough. But having to explain it without crying my eyes out that is another matter. Not to mention that among my many care providers they all read each other’s notes except my psychiatrist so if I tell one, the others are going to know except I am not there yet. I don’t want it in my medical file that I am a transgendered individual or that I have gender identity disorder yet. I just am not there as sometimes it takes so much emotion that all I do is cry over it as I talk about. I guess part of it is because I hate myself so much that I just want no part of my body. I can deal with the facial hair but I cannot deal with my breasts or my reproductive system. Those are the two things I hate most about myself. I just wish I had the money to get the operation to get rid of both. To look down and not see breasts would make me happy. To actually see hair on my chest would be wonderful and not the little stubs I have now. I truly hate myself for being in the wrong body.
And this is why I am suicidal. This is why I want to end my life. I hope that by the time my date comes around I am half way to the other side or else I just end things and let things be. My parents can bury me as their daughter instead of their son. because it hurts too much to be not who I really am meant to be.
ramblings 22
I don’t know where this day has gone. I had a disastrous appointment with my therapist in which I accidently hung up on her and we both we trying to call each other back at the same time, which just lead us to each other’s voicemails. Stupidly, I was looking for my psychiatrist number and accidently dialed it during our session. But no matter, she called me back and after I explained that I panicked and hung up on her she laughed.
My therapist is worried because of what I wrote in my last blog (mental anguish) and she wanted me to tell my psychiatrist so I emailed the blog to her while we were talking. We have phone sessions because I don’t have a car and she is now thirty miles away from me. She used to be closer but then decided to have a life outside of our therapy (AKA have a kid) and consolidated her practices to where she lives. Which sucks for me because unless I can borrow a car, there is no way I can see her. I might end up seeing her next week but it is a hassle. I have to wake up early to take my sister’s car from my brother in law who leaves around 7 every morning. That is a long day with someone who has nothing to do and then I have to pick him up from work. I can’t wait till he gets a more reliable vehicle for his own use rather than my sister’s. That is why we have phone sessions.
I got my new glasses today and seems like I will have to go back as one of the lenses is scratched. Just what I fricken need.
Having trouble with tomorrow’s writing challenge. I am supposed to write about something that I am proud of but I don’t feel like I’m proud of anything because I feel like crap right now. How can you feel proud of something when you feel like killing yourself? When you feel like you are the biggest loser on the planet? Or feel like a big piece of shit? I just want to crawl under a huge rock and hope it crushes me to death.
mental anguish
I feel like I have a terminal illness except it doesn’t kill you. That truly is what depression is like. An illness that takes your life away from you without killing you. The only way to end it is by you taking your life.
These are the thoughts I have been pondering for the past half hour. I just feel like I am sick but physically I am well. I am on disability for an illness that no one can see or hear. I hate this suffering every day. I feel so worthless as a human being.
My therapist thought I had my day of death in the fall. She couldn’t be more wrong. I just set a date because I just can’t go on anymore. Does it mean that I will go through with my plans? I don’t know. If the day was tomorrow, you bet I would. I feel cheated that I have to wait it out until this day. I am not going to mention it to anyone because I don’t want to be stopped.
I always plan my death. It helps to calm me down. Imagining how the knife will feel or a rope around my neck. That is gory I know but when you are in so much pain you can’t imagine happy thoughts to save you. It just doesn’t work that way. I feel suicidal so I am going to think of suicidal things. It helps to have options out there. That is all that I am doing. Giving myself options on how to die and break free of this awful cycle of being ok and being six feet under.
midnightdemons7 
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