Category: transgender

Runaway Train, Soul Asylum

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, suicidality, transgender

Runaway Train, Soul Asylum

This song is the song of my teenage years and more. The lyrics are just so powerful. I know the song deals with runaway children, but when you are in so much pain and want to escape, this song pretty much covers it.

I am snowed in, literally. There is almost two feet of snow surrounding my house. My brother in law is outside plowing with his snow blower. They have not plowed the streets yet. Travel ban is still in effect as far as I know, though they have lifted the ban in the western part of the state.

I thought I would writ this blog and then read my civil war book. Tomorrow seems to be the same. School has been canceled so I am guessing I won’t be having therapy this week. I could really use a session as my mood has plummeted since I edited one of the papers I am using for a “lived experience” contest. I just hate myself so much that I just want to die. I was reading a transgender blog and read that the FTM is going to have surgery in three weeks to remove his breasts. I am so jealous. But then, I haven’t pursued avenues to my transition. I keep trying to get the nerve to tell my mother but I lose my nerve. I know what she is going to say. And the most hurtful part is that she thinks she knows me. Yeah right. If she knew me, she would know that I buy men’s clothes because it fits my identity as a person.

I should probably take a shower today but I don’t feel like it. The shampoo that I have been using just dries out my scalp and makes it itch. I have yet to find a shampoo other than Selsun Blue that deals with the issue. And Selsun Blue isn’t cheap. I got to get another bottle, so add it to my shopping list. I love shopping on Amazon. I usually am able to get things much cheaper than in the stores, and usually a 2 for 1 deal. Plus I usually have free shipping so that is good. I am not a Prime member because it is too expensive, but I think next year I will be. If I am still alive.

I was reading about a friend on Facebook. We became friends while in the hospital last year. She is thinking about entering the hospital’s DBT program to help her. It is an intensive program, from what I heard. I never found DBT or CBT to be helpful for me. The therapy that I have with my therapist is eclectic, meaning there is no specific discipline she focuses on. Mostly we just talk and go from there. She is open to any therapeutic ideas that I have which I like. I usually am not open to her ideas, though I will research them. There was a guy she liked about something, I forget. I think his last name was Frantz. I came across his paper the other day while looking for something else. It was an interesting paper. It probably is the only thing that I liked that she suggested.

Oh this sucks. I am almost out of my pain medication and I still have not received my new script in the mail. And because of the snow storm, mail won’t be delivered today. Fuck! I still have a few pills left but they won’t last this week. And if I don’t get the script tomorrow, it will throw my damn refill schedule off. UGH. I am so pissed. And because of the new narcotic regulations, they can’t fax in the prescription. I am so screwed.

It’s 1435 EST and I just realized I have not had lunch yet. Think I will make some eggs and toast. Then I got to do some reading.

Don’t call me daughter 2

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, psychache, suicidality, suicide, suicide attempt, transgender

Don’t call me daughter 2

I had a conversation with one of my Twitter buddies about being TG. He got me thinking that I still have not made any steps forward in this endeavor since I tried to come out to family last year. My sister read my book, so I know she now knows that I am transgender. Now comes the hard part, do I tell my mother? I have been wanting to for some time now but can’t bring up the nerve to go through with it. I know she will say that I will “always be her daughter” and that is going to be hurtful to me. I don’t want to be called “daughter”. In the song by Pearl Jam, “Daughter”, one line goes like this: “don’t call me daughter, not meant to be, the picture left will remind me”. I remember during an intense painful time in my life, these words spoke volumes to me like they do today. Granted it was a different meaning, meaning I didn’t deserve to be called “daughter” because I was such a despicable person.

After my conversation with my Twitter buddy, I got depressed, which lead me listening to Pearl Jam. I still hate myself so very much. I want to get rid of the things on my chest so badly. I bet I would lose 30 lbs instantly, LOL. Damn suckers are so damn heavy anyways. But I don’t know who to talk to about getting them cut off. My psychiatrist is still out of the office and she isn’t answering my emails. I am getting frustrated with her. I would call her but her pager has been signed out to another clinician, one that doesn’t know me. And I don’t talk to my therapist until Tuesday to discuss these things. Maybe I should call the LGBTQ clinic on Monday and see if I get anywhere. I think I want to try taking testosterone and see if that helps me. I just don’t know if my insurance will cover it.

I am not scared to try anymore. I think that if I do move forward with this, the lingering depression that I feel will lift and maybe I won’t be so suicidal anymore. But I can’t move forward with this. I know my mother is not going to accept me. She could barely accept that I like women, how is she going to accept that I am the wrong gender. And what if she gets so pissed off, she kicks me out of the house? What then? I doubt it as she needs me financially but there are things better than money. And I am not quite sure if her possible rejection will send me to another suicidal crisis. If my own mother can’t accept me, what reason, really, do I have to live for?

I have struggled for years with my suicidality and only in the last five years or so have I realized that the majority of why I was suicidal is not only because I don’t like myself, but because I can’t stand being in the wrong body. It became evident when I made the connection between my menstrual cycle and being purely suicidal. Then I would bleed, and a switch went off and I felt I was just dreaming of being suicidal but I wasn’t because my therapist and friends were on me, seriously worried about me. I can’t say that my mother knows me. She may say she does, but she doesn’t have the first inkling about me. If she did, she would know how torturous it is being in the wrong body. But I know she doesn’t think like that. No one does. It was all for me to figure out one day. I have had twelve different therapists from all different disciplines. IF they figure out the reason for my suicidality, they sure as hell didn’t tell me.

I remember being emotional whenever I brought it up in the beginning. I cried in my therapist’s office (back when we were seeing one another) and she held me, telling me I was going to make it through. I had no idea what she was talking about. I just wanted to die. I hate myself so much it hurts. I don’t even know how I can love anyone when I have so much hate towards myself. My therapist now thinks that going forward with TG stuff is the “only” way to ease my suicidal suffering. I think that she is wrong. It might help in the short term, but I don’t think it is going to help in the long term. I have heard stories of TG people go through with their sex reassignment only to kill themselves afterwards. Why? Most likely, because they were not accepted by the people that were supposed to accept them. I still have no idea how I am going to explain this to my “kids”. I have a homophobic nephew, two caring nieces, and a little pre-teen niece that has her own mental issues. Maybe I will come out to my older niece first and then see how it goes. If I lose their love, it will be the death of me. I know I cannot handle their rejection of me. It will hurt more than my mother’s rejection because we raised my nieces to be accepting of people. I don’t know what happened with my nephew. I blame his teacher for telling him that gays aren’t born gay. They choose to be it. In his mind, only girls choose to be gay. Boys don’t choose because they are always straight. Least that is what I think he thinks. It has been a while since he explained it to me. But he is ignorant and still doesn’t know the world so I don’t blame him. But if I lose his love, it will kill me. He has been the main reason I am still alive. I couldn’t bear to die knowing that he needed me, especially when I was going through a hard time his first year of life. I would say goodbye to him, not knowing if I would see him again. My suicidality twenty years ago was horrific. I was in and out of mental hospitals for six months, until I took an almost fatal overdose that landed me inpatient for two and a half months. That would be unheard of today. No one stays that long in the hospital anymore, though there are exceptions.

I just don’t want to be anymore. I really just rather die than to deal with all this bullshit of becoming a man. It’s not like my bones are going to change. My pelvis will always be revealed as a woman. And that is what kills me every time I think about it. Got to thank a “Bones” episode for that. I know I will kill myself one day. I just hope it is sooner rather than later.

don’t call me daughter

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, psychache, suicidality, suicide attempt, transgender

Don’t call me daughter

Just recently, I was discharged from the hospital because of a suicide attempt. The self hate of being in the wrong body grew to unbelievable proportions. I hated my body, myself, my breasts, and my menstrual cycle. I just couldn’t take it anymore. The self-loathing I felt was unimaginable. I don’t know what set me off. That was one of the first questions I was asked when I was in the hospital but it was a cascade of everything in my life from being disabled to being transgender. I didn’t care anymore. I still don’t. I don’t want to live my life in a hole anymore. Sure, I talk about being transgender on my blog but my mother doesn’t know. She will NEVER accept me for being her son. And that hurt is what drives me to suicide. I’d rather die as her daughter than as her son.

feeling distraught and confused

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, chronic physical pain, transgender, writing

I’m a little distraught today. Today is my BFFL’s birthday. He called and told me thank you after I called him to wish him a happy birthday. He then told me some stiffening news. His ex-fiance died in a car crash last week. I remember hearing about it on Twitter as I get the State police tweets. I just felt really bad because in my mind, I had “ruled” it a suicide because it was a single fatal crash. Turns out she had a seizure while driving and crashed into a tree, causing her car to explode. Not a good way to die. She was only 33 years old. I feel for her family.

I didn’t know her that well. We didn’t know each other at all, only through my BFFL. I met her a few times while they were together. She didn’t like me because she was a jealous type and thought I was going to steal him away from her. I kept telling my BFFL to say that I was gay and that would end any animosity but he wouldn’t. I guess he liked having a jealous girlfriend. She worked for the Mass Pike Authority so the last time I saw her was at a toll booth. I didn’t and she didn’t realize who we were until after we left. It was one of those do I know you but hurry up and leave type of situations. I can’t be spending all day at a toll booth. The cars behind me wouldn’t like it! I just feel really sad about the way she died.

I tried walking today, despite being in pain. It was horrible. By the time I was half way home, my ankle felt like someone was ripping it apart. I came home, got back into my pjs, took some nerve pain pills, one pain pill, and now I am writing my blog. I am not doing anything else today and hope to God today isn’t a crap day. I have nerve pain in my butt so bad I can hardly sit as I am typing this. I know I should be working on my editing my book. But I am in too much pain and soon will be in lala land. Besides, if I work on it today, I won’t be able to work on anything the rest of this week.

I have decided that half of my cash funds are going to Starbucks. I HAVE to be able to leave the house and go to Starbucks or I will just go insane in the house. My mother is now playing Yatzee, a dice game, instead of watching TV. It is so very annoying!! I rather hear the speakers of the TV than the roll of the die. She plays by herself, just to keep herself occupied. It is driving me crazy so I need to get out of the damn house.

In addition to seeing my therapist this week, I am seeing my pdoc. My pdoc sent me an email asking to come in for an earlier time. I asked again if she wanted me to come in early but I haven’t heard back from her. I think she got confused when she sent me the email but now I am confused. It’s a later time than I usually see her, which isn’t a problem, because I have nothing better to do. But I like to occupy my time accordingly. If she wants me to come in earlier, I would like to know.

I haven’t worked on the TG piece that I wrote a couple of days ago. I am going to wait until my therapist has a chance to read it before I work on it some more. I really want to re-write it, just write about how I came out to myself and where I am today with it all. I bought a reward for writing it. I felt like I should be rewarded for writing such an emotional piece. My BFFL doesn’t know I want to be a male. I think he will flip out or I might lose the relationship if he ever were to find out.

The editor for the AAS has given me a month to work on this piece. But I have so much time on my hands that I can’t possibly sit on it for that length of time. But I suppose I can alternate between my second book writings and the TG piece. I know the TG piece is going to be a huge part of therapy sessions in the upcoming weeks.