Tag Archives: gender identity disorder

Gender Dysphoria

I am having a hard time right now. My brain is playing games with me. My stupid female breasts are hurting me a lot tonight. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was going to have my menses soon. They weigh so heavy for some reason. Maybe it is because of the pain.

I can’t decide if I am male or female. I know I am a male but all my body parts are female. I am so distraught. It is making me tearful. I have no one to talk to that understands. I have one friend on FB that is trans ftm. I only met him because I met his mother through a mutual game we were playing at the time. Weird how things play out.

I know the pain will pass, eventually. I just hate it as it is just a reminder of who I am not.

There is a homeless guy by the Starbucks that I go to. Every time he sees me he misgenders me. Lately he has been calling me “lady”. Screw you pal, now you aren’t getting my extra buck when I have it. I hate my body so much. And having these painful things on my chest doesn’t make me like it any better. I hate being trapped in this shell.

I see the LGBT doc next week. I don’t know how it will go. It will be our 2nd appt. I need a minimum of three before being considered for hormone therapy. So frustrating. Wish I could have top surgery tomorrow and be done with these fuckers that hurt. Like I need more pain in my life. Just hate myself so much right now. I wish I was dead.

TG Issues 3

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.

at least we can say we tried

All too often I get the how is your back, you look good bullshit. I want to strangle the person sometimes, especially when I have had a bad night the night before. No one gets it. My family keep telling me to see this podiatrist or go to this hospital or see this doctor. But they don’t get I am tired of seeing doctors who only want to stick a needle in my back or ankle and then say ok at least we tried, good luck to you and leave me hanging with NO FURTHER TREATMENT. Or they look at my ankle and xrays/Mri’s and find that there is nothing wrong with my back anymore or that my ankle looks perfectly normal. Well if it was perfectly normal why do I have friggen pain all the time?? I had another pain bout last night that I was climbing the walls with. And I didn’t do anything yesterday that would have caused it. I am just so tired of being in pain but I got to live with it and it sucks.

Last night I was in the deep throws of dealing with bad ankle pain. I wrote the above just now in response to an email that a fellow CESSG member wrote. I thought it would give me something more to write on but I just can’t think of anything more to say. I am all tired out from being in pain all night. Sure I had my coffee this morning and it was very good but it didn’t loosen my thought process any. I am struggling right now, really struggling with pain and my menses and the depression. No one understands. These three things make me want to kill myself. There is no one I can talk to about it. I sent off the blog I wrote last night to my pdoc, hoping for a response and still have not received one. Maybe she got mad at me because I wrote that she didn’t get it because she always uses the wrong pronoun with me. I don’t care. In my mind, I am a he, not a she. I think I got to let the group (the CES group) know that I have decided to change my name again. This one is a little more permanent and one that I have used since I was a teenager. I might still use Mike from time to time. I like the name, even if it is a common one. But for now I think I will just stick with GC. I don’t know if I will ever change my name permanently but I know that I like being called this and that is part of the transition.

The depression I can handle most of the time, except when everything I do drains me. It takes such an effort to get out of bed, to do daily living activities, etc. I rather just lay in bed and do nothing or instead I just play on my laptop or look at a blank page of a word document wondering if the words will come.

The menses are just an insult to me. I can’t handle it. I detest it with every fiber of my being. It is the constant reminder that I am not a male no matter how bad my brain thinks I am. It confuses the hell out of me and makes me think instant thoughts of suicide. I think it probably would take a suicide attempt for my treaters to know that I am serious when I tell them this makes me suicidal to the Nth degree. I can’t live like this anymore. And again I am downcasted by the psych profession. Call it what you will Gender dysphoria or transgenderism. I don’t care. I just know that I am in the wrong body and I want to kill myself be that is the ONLY way to solve the problem. Obviously birth control pills are not working. I have been on them for at least two years now and they just are not working. I get a few months break and then I get my menses again. This isn’t right. I don’t think my repro endo doctor care either. To her, I am just another female that cannot tolerate her period. But is it normal to want to kill yourself every time you get the bloody thing (pun intended)?? I don’t think so.


I know I have been writing more and more about my transgender issues and more of my identity crisis that I am. I am deeply distressed right now and don’t know what else to do but write. I started working on a blog for my 400th blog but the meds are interfering with my thought process. I took 2400 mg of neurontin to calm down the horrible burning pains in my foot that I have been experiencing all day. I just can’t take it anymore. I took some of my pain meds with the neurontin and I am kind of feeling kind of out of it but I still haven’t passed out yet. I think I will in a few minutes as I can barely hold my head up anymore as I am fighting the fatigue. I am just so damn upset over the stupid menses. I know that even if I get to my doc there is nothing really she could do. I will still have to wait at least three weeks to see if the next treatment works, that is if I stop bleeding. I would be ok if I would just stop bleeding. It so distresses me and usually I am able to handle it but now this is going on for almost three weeks and I am losing my handle on the rope that is holding me together. I think tomorrow if my flow is still the same I will stop the patch and see what happens. I don’t know what else to go. i will go a few days of not wearing the stupid fucker and see if that helps.

I am deeply suicidal and yet deeply concerned about someone who just wrote to me that she is planning her final affairs. There is nothing I can do to stop this lady, she has her mind set on killing herself. I don’t blame her. I really don’t. There is only so much pain you can take before you finally snap and have to do something to get rid of it. I have been where she is right now. She doesn’t have a good support system and I think she is mad at me in some way that I have abandoned her. I feel bad that I have not called her like I have said before but I just don’t feel like talking. I guess I am afraid of calling a stranger and letting her in my life. I am scared. I once got close to a member of the support group and then she just stopped contact. No more emails, no more phone calls, no messages returned. Nothing. I later found out through her husband that she just got tired of her condition that she became constricted and didn’t want to reach out anymore. It was too painful for her. I lost my friend to this horrible condition because she has the active form due to another dreaded condition that is worse than the other. I would name them but they are conditions that no one really understands. I might as well as be talking about the moon and the stars and how far away they are. I think they name them these big ass names so that no one can understand and push us further apart from the human race.

So Ms. M, if you are reading this, I am sorry that I failed you. I wish there was a way that I could stop you from doing what you are planning but I guess there is no way to stop you. Just like no one can stop me in my planning. I hope that we both succeed. I know that dealing with constant, excruciating pain and loss of bodily functions really suck. I know this first hand. I can’t stand it that someone so sweet could hurt so much and no one notice. It is not fair. But I understand. I really do.

Dysphoria of sorts

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.