Tag: FTM

TG Issues 3

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, chronic physical pain, mood disorders, suicidality, transgender

Fortunately, I had therapy today. My therapist was able to get to her office today, but there won’t be therapy tomorrow because they canceled school again. I know out west got hit harder than we did, where she lives. Just sucks but at least I got to talk to her a little bit today.

I told her about the strange dream I had this morning. In the dream, I went to my friend Chris’s wake. I went there with a mutual friend. He went off being a social butterfly that he was and I was left to my own devices. There was a guy I recognized from way back and so we chatted. He asked me my name and when I told him, he looked at me up and down with disgust. I awoke from the dream feeling full of self-loathing. I couldn’t stand to be my own skin. My therapist calls it gender dysphoria. I don’t care what it is called. I hate myself, no, I loathe myself way too much, to the point where I just want to kill myself. We didn’t discuss that part. I thought it was self-explanatory. She should know by now that anything to do with self-loathing is going to bring up suicidal thoughts.

Then we discussed my paper that I am working on submitting for a contest. I think it sounds too depressing, so I added a few sentences about hope. It read okay in my mind but I am still having my doubts. Top prize for this is $1500, though I really would love just to win it for the sake of having my writing mean something. Once the winners are announced, I will post my piece.

But the writing got me self-doubting and it really hurts me to think that is what my life is. I am stuck in the wrong body and it is hurtful. Then towards the end of session, my therapist tells me that she called the LGBTQ clinic inquiring about whether suicidality will hinder transition and if private therapy will have to cease. None of these conditions are true. I just need my PCP to recommend them to their primary care place for evaluation. They are willing to work *with* me on the transition. I couldn’t talk about it anymore as I was drowning in sorrow and relief. This could happen this year and all I have to do is put one foot in front of the other.

I woke up from the self-loathing dream around 0630 and couldn’t go back to sleep. I went to the bathroom and then when I came back to my room, I got really nauseous. I thought I was going to throw up so I took my Zofran (anti-nausea pill). I couldn’t sit up so I laid back down and fell asleep. I didn’t wake up till around 11 or so. By then I was really hungry so made eggs and bacon. Now I am feeling sick to my stomach again and I am really tired.

No mail has come yet. I hope it comes soon and my prescription is in it. I need my pain meds or I am going to run out. I haven’t been in too much pain today but then I have been resting for most of the day.

I haven’t showered yet. I think I might do that later tonight, if I don’t get sick. I keep thinking about the TG issues and the self-loathing. I really, really, loathe myself. I find myself despicable. I just am not a good person and I should die. But my therapist would miss me so I can’t kill myself as much as I want to. I’m going to go to sleep after I take some Ativan. I hope I am in a better mood when I wake up.

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.

900th Blog Post

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, mood disorders

900th post

I thought of reviewing the book “Managing Suicidal Risk” by David Jobes, but I never got around to it. It will make its way to this blog one day just not today. Maybe my 1000th blog.

I had therapy this morning. I was really sleepy so didn’t really want to talk. She called me a new name and now I forgot it. It was really funny at the time. Maybe if I can get back to that sleepy state of mind I can remember it.

She asked me about my suicidality a few times. I basically told her I had no means to kill myself with. And because I don’t, I don’t want to try. Sure I can go down to the basement and see if I can kill myself there but I really don’t think I can pull it off. I have too much going on with me. I asked her if she still needs me to be around. And she almost got choked up. Answer was yes. I felt like I had to ask because we haven’t seen each other in so long. I was wondering if talking with her was still worth it.

I don’t know if I am suicidal enough to warrant being in the hospital. Sure, I rather be dead because I hate living in pain all the time. I cooked dinner tonight and then went to pick up my niece. My ankle had a heart attack by the time I came back home. It was really hurting and upset with me.

It’s 0530 am. I just realized that I didn’t send this out so I might as well keep writing. I finally got my ankle to calm down some. I had broken sleep but any sleep at this point and I will take it. I just took a muscle relaxer because I forgot to take it with my night time meds. I have to call the doc today and let him know how I am doing with it. I don’t think there has been much change in the pain department like he was hoping. I might be on a too low a dose or maybe I need to take it more during the day. I don’t know. I have been taking it at least twice a day since I got started on it. I was desperate for pain relief because I was running low on my pain meds. If the muscle relaxer just helped me to sleep, I would be ok but it doesn’t even slow me down. Very disappointing. I hope he doesn’t change to another med because I just can’t afford it. My last 10 bucks has to go toward getting Powerade so I can take my meds at night. I can’t take it with water because I hate the taste of meds with it. I got to have something else to take the taste away. I just hope the drink is on sale this week.

Because I messed up on getting my refill on my BCP, I now have my menses. With all the drama of last week with my father, I just plain forgot to call my doc and refill the pills. This sucks because I don’t know how long I will have it for. It has been two months since my last period so I am hoping it will end soon. I am going to restart the pill again on Sunday anyway, even if I am still continuing to bleed. It is so frustrating for me because it still proves I am in the wrong body and that makes me sad. I had a dream that I told my mother off. Maybe I am getting closer to telling her my true feelings. I don’t know. Funny how two people can live together yet not really know one another, even if we are related. I hope one day that dream comes true and then I can live my life the way its meant to be lived. I don’t have to be in the closet anymore about my true self. Not like I am hiding now, but I just don’t talk about it. And if I go ahead with the transition, that would be awesome. But I think that will be a dream. My therapist brought up gender dysphoria while we were talking and I guess that is where the source of my dream came from. I just really want to grow a beard and have a mastectomy. That is all I want. If I could donate my breasts for transplants, I would in a heart beat. But alas, that is one tissue that can never be transplanted. Such a shame. Breast cancer doesn’t run in my family so I can’t even go for a medical reason. And they are not too large enough for a reduction. But then, I don’t want a reduction. I want them GONE!!