All I want to be is DONE.
I didn’t know what to write about today. It’s taken me a long while to come up with something to write. I tried writing in my journal while I was at Starbucks but I just left a blank page. I have been feeling paranoid lately. I feel like everyone is watching me. There were a lot more people in the store today than there usually is so I guess it kind of prevented me writing. I was also really hot and wanted to just sit in the air conditioned room. I also wanted to enjoy my new iced coffee, Kati Kati. I got an email from Starbucks last night about it and so tried it today. It is a little stronger than my Isla Flores but it is ok. I loved it! It was the one joy on this dismal day.
I had therapy this afternoon. I really didn’t want to talk but then I got really suicidal. I had fantasies where I would hang myself off the back porch while my family would be at my cousin’s house for the 4th of July BBQ. We worked out a safety plan that didn’t include me downing a bottle of one of my medication. I am to write and go through my crisis response plan (to what that entails, check out this blog). If these things don’t work, I am to try and get in touch with my therapist, psychiatrist, or go to the hospital. I truly have crashed. I don’t have the energy to do anything. I have no motivation. I just want to crawl under a rock and die.
I knew this crash was coming. I just didn’t think it would come this fast. I think it just came at the beginning of this grief that I am feeling. I also am feeling trapped by living. I don’t want to live. I just want to die. Life to me is just worthless. Nothing gives me pleasure except that one coffee I have from Starbucks a day. And watching baseball games. Least I can get lost for a little while watching the games because each pitch keeps me entertained. I love when the batter keeps fouling pitches and the at-bat count gets about five. My sox are good at working the pitch count in their favor.
I texted my therapist about what to write. She told me to write about something but I forgot what that is. I think it was on feeling trapped but that has many definitions. I feel trapped because I am now forced to live this thing called life and I don’t want to. I feel trapped because I am in the wrong body. And that truly is what is depressing me. I know my hormones are still going whacky. I just think that this whole business of transitioning to another gender is too hard. I can’t even talk about it anymore. I am starting to feel like a freak. Sure I can dress in male clothes all I want but that doesn’t help my huge chest. I wish they were just man boobs (which I guess technically they are) but it distresses me. I can’t stand looking at myself in the mirror because I am ugly. I know that I have some form of body dysmorphic dysphoria. But if I already am dysphoric in general, does that mean that I have all the other dysphorias? I have gender identity disorder, how can I not. I want to kill myself because I am in the wrong body. I want to be a boy. And sadly, I don’t think that is ever going to happen because of my damn menstrual cycle. In order for me to get rid of my menses, I had to pretty much tell the doc that I get more than just the typical depression with my periods. I get down right suicidal. So pre-menstrual dysphoric disorder was tacked on to my list of diagnoses. Another female diagnosis. It is a good thing that I don’t have access to guns. I think I would have blown my brains out by now.
There are huge shake downs in Boston right now regarding sports. The hockey team lost the finals. The basketball coach was fired. A football player is accused of double homicide. And while that is all going on, my baseball team is red hot and in first place for the first time since the 2009 season. That is all I am going to say on the matter as I don’t want a ragtime blog of my opinion on the subjects as other than baseball, I really don’t care. Right now only one sport exists and that is baseball. Anything concerning my players or the other teams is of interest in me. Otherwise, I don’t care.
I got a tweet last night saying that there is a 1,200 year old tomb that was found intact. I thought at first it might be a Maya tomb but that would be too late. It was of the Wari people who I didn’t even know existed. I am not too good on the early peoples of South America other than the Maya as they have plagued my interest since learning of their short ruling period. I also have an interest in the Inca as they are presumeably the ones that took over the Maya temples and such and faced the same fate once the Spanish invaded Mexico.
Anyway, I became interested in this tomb as I love archeology. I think that finding things from the past is fascinating. Yes I am a lover of the Indian Jones movies and maybe my fascination came from his work. But I am also interested in the dinosaurs and how things evolved from an evolutionary standpoint. I have yet to read Darwin’s Origin of Species but I plan to one day.
I saw my psychiatrist today. And she didn’t hospitalize me but I did tell her that I have a future date of potentially killing myself. She thinks that I am hormonal and asked that I contact my reproductive endocrine doc, which I did. To my surprise she was available for meeting with me to talk about what to do as I have my menses. She checked the lining of my uterus to see if there was a problem and there wasn’t. What she FAILED to tell me was that it could take up to three months for this new patch to work. That would have been helpful to know!!! So I am going to stick it out the three months (I have two months to go) and see if this patch is better than taking a pill every day. But I have had it will this period bullshit. My psych knows what havoc this is causing me. I don’t feel like a man anymore. I feel it is hopeless to transition. I can’t even talk about it without being very depressed about it. It is killing me more than having boobs.
I normally don’t think about being a male every day because I already think I am one as long as I don’t look at my chest. But when I get my menses, it really, really messes with my head and reinforces the notion that I am in the wrong body. I guess I have been in denial the past week. It just has been so hard but my suicidality has not peaked, least not yet. I feel that I should stop this and try and put it out of my head that I am a male. But that is so hard to do. I am not talking about changing my dress to female or anything of the sort. Just to stop thinking that I would be a male someday. Even if I were to get hormones, I doubt my breasts would shrink enough not to be noticed. I am morbidly overweight so they do have some fat and unless I starve myself, I really don’t see a way to be back to normal weight. I just bought some cereal to help with the diet again. I figure if I just eat cereal for two meals and then eat a normal dinner with some kind of protein, I should be ok. I just hope that I can stick with it. But losing weight is just one of the issues that I have with my self-esteem and body image issues.
My therapist thinks that I have body dysmorphic disorder. I think she maybe right as I do hate my body, every stinking inch of it. And in turn, I hate myself deeply because of it. I really think I am ugly and unattractive. I can’t stand looking at myself in the mirror. I am glad I don’t have any mirrors in my room except a very small one that I use so I can put eye drops in my eyes. Even then I loathe looking at myself. It is just another reason why I want to die. I don’t feel I deserve to be living because I am so heinous looking.