Tag: writing

depressed and pissed off

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

For the first time in a couple of weeks, I am starting to feel really depressed. I have not left the house other than for my psych appt yesterday. I can’t read the way that I used to. I just get so restless and lose interest rather quickly. I have tried several different books and it is the same. I read for a few minutes and I can’t wait for a break because I can’t stop in the middle of a paragraph. I will continue to read but I am not really paying attention to what I am reading.

I also am finding that I am not writing in my journal as often anymore. I just look at it and I just can’t pick it up to write how my day is going or the past few days have gone. My appetite is any where in the range of starving to no appetite. But I haven’t lost or gained weight, so I am happy about that. Last thing I need is to gain the weight I lost. It has been very tricky, especially when I get the hungry horrors.

I just don’t feel like myself. I don’t know what myself is, but I know that by staying inside all the time is not me. Granted is has been fricken cold out so I don’t want to leave the house. But I am bored. I am bored with my game, bored with doing nothing all day, bored with having no routine. Tomorrow I was going to go out to see my therapist but there is supposed to be a snow storm so that got nixed. I am starting to feel trapped. I hardly leave my room except to eat or go to the bathroom. I haven’t showered or shaved in a few days. Last time I did was Sunday. And that was only because it was my father’s birthday party. I just don’t know what to do with myself. People have been telling me to go to the library. But I don’t feel like going. Last place I want to be is surrounded by books when I can barely read the ones I have. My psych suggested using the computer to do my research. I don’t think I can because I would want to print out the articles and if I can’t print them out, then what is the purpose of researching in the first place.

Then I think of how my editor is screwing me over and I get pissed off. I can’t believe she still has not messaged me telling me she is working on my book. It’s almost the end of March. I was hoping for the beginning of April publishing date. Guess that is not going to happen now. And with each passing day that I don’t hear from her, I have my doubts on whether this book is going to be ever published. I am getting wicked stressed that my money has been taken and gone away forever. It’s bad enough that I am feeling used but this just tops it. I know I should confront her and tell her that if she isn’t going to work with me, then I want a refund. I actually dreamt about this last night. My book isn’t long so I don’t see what the problem is, other than she taking on too much at one time. But that is not my problem. I paid for a service and it hasn’t been fulfilled. I feel like I have been taken to the cleaners. And I want so bad to post something negative on her fricken FB page but I am not the type to do it. I have been waiting for four fricken months now. Today she posted that she is taking a personal day Thursday, which means I am not even on her radar anymore. I just am very pissed off. But lesson learned. Don’t be paying into services on FB unless you know they are real and legit.

Am I a blogger or a writer?

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging

I’ve been staring at this screen for some time and I just can’t think of what to say. I am in shock today. My writing buddy’s mother passed away this morning unexpectedly. I feel so bad for her. She has dealt with so much loss. I am sending her good thoughts. I would say prayers but I don’t pray. I am not a religious person and haven’t been in some time.

I had my meeting with my pdoc and I don’t know what it is with my psych team, but all we talk about is my book. I think they are more excited than I am. I just wish my editor would get back to me before I lose what is left of my mind. The waiting is getting ridiculous. She told me the middle of March, which is now past. I am hoping to hear from her in the next day or so. Otherwise, I am going to have to do the edits, which also means I won’t have a publishing time of April. It could be May before I finish. I had started the second read through. I just have to finish it.

So tomorrow we are supposed to have a snow storm starting in the evening. I honestly don’t believe we are getting more snow. Then it’s supposed to be sixty degrees on Friday. I wanted to go out to see my therapist Wednesday but now that is not going to be likely because the storm is still supposedly going on. And I don’t drive in the snow. If I can avoid it, I will. Especially since it won’t be my car that I am driving. And I know the storm is coming, at least precipitation because my back has been aching really bad the last few hours.

Since we talked about my book the majority of the time today between my psychiatrist and my therapist, the issue of whether I am a writer came up. My psychiatrist says that I am. So I guess that settles the matter even though I don’t consider myself one. I don’t know why I am having a hard time believing that I am writer. Maybe I am just in denial or something. I consider myself more of a blogger. To me, that is what I do. A writer is someone that writes books. I write blogs, which is different than a book. When my book is published, I can call myself an author. But not before then because I don’t want to jinx it. Yea, the book is done and technically I am a writer because I wrote one book but it is not my profession like my therapist thinks it is. I don’t know if my psych thinks so. I do know that writing has helped me tremendously with my mood. It sort of is a catharsis as I could write whatever and not worry about being criticized for it. Granted I would love to have more comments on my blog but understand not everyone wants to comment. I do the same thing when I read a blog. If there is something worthwhile to say, I will comment. Otherwise, I just give it a like.

My therapist has not read my TG/suicidal mind blog yet. I am kind of nervous about it. Any time my therapist brings up my TG issues, I cringe because I don’t know what kind of feelings it is going to stir up for me. That blog was very emotional for me, which is why I passed it along. I didn’t have to but thought it might be a good conversation starter, sort of. Sometimes I don’t think things through when I get emotional. But who really does? If it is too bothersome, I can always change the topic with my writing. Lately, that has been a good subject she likes to talk about…

TG issues: Suicidal Mind

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, suicide attempt

In my suicidal mind, I think about death because I feel trapped. I feel trapped because I am stuck in a female’s body where my mind thinks I am a male. I feel like a male because it has always been that way. Ever since I was little, I knew I was different. Every night I prayed that I would grow a penis but I never did. This dream continued well into my 30’s. Then I woke up one day and realized it was never going to happen. The heartbreak then began.

I spent almost the entire part of my adult life trying to kill myself because I hated myself that bad. I hated having breasts, female ovaries, and having menses. It wasn’t until I realized that my menses were the real problem causing my suicidal thoughts every month. It was the constant monthly reminder that I wasn’t a male. And it had to be stopped before I took my own life. Not only were the hormones putting me into a pre-menstrual dysphoria, it made me purely suicidal and this in turn made me very dangerous. With each passing month, the suicidal thoughts got worse and my suicidal plans got more lethal. I tried to tell my doctors that I was going to end my life. But then soon as I started bleeding, a switch went off and so did the suicidal feelings. As I realized this, and it wasn’t an overnight “ah ha” moment, I knew the key to saving my life was to stop the menses. Because otherwise, I was going to cease to exist.

When I saw a specialist that dealt with PMDD, she immediately placed me on birth control pills (BCP). Thus began my trial. It took almost six different kinds of pills to find the one that I am on now to stop my menses.. There was a point where I thought it was hopeless, that I was forever to be maimed a female. But since my menses have stopped completely for almost four months now, I feel a freedom. I can now where my boxers every day and not worry my menses are doing to return. They might but I am hoping not. Now if only there was a way to shrink my breast tissue so I can be flat chested.

My breasts are another source of my pain. They really provoke me into a suicidal rage when I see them. How I long for the day when I can be topless like men are during the summer or wear tank tops without fear of boobs coming out. I try very hard not to look at my chest but it is difficult because I always seem to look down. And that depresses me to no end. I hope one day I can afford the surgery so that I can be rid of these things. But then I wonder if I will be sad without them. They are after all, been apart of me for a long time. And once they are gone, I can’t have them back. But they bring me so much misery I think it will be a happy kind of sadness where they won’t provoke suicidal impulses.

I am a male trapped in a female’s body. And it sucks big time. But once my menses were no longer happening and I didn’t have the hormonal shifts anymore, the suicidal stuff started fading. I never made the connection of menses and suicide before and I am glad I didn’t because if I didn’t I doubt I would still be here. Now if only I can get rid of my chest things that will make me even less suicidal.

So if I ever die by my own hand, know that it was due to me being trapped in the wrong body. That it wasn’t because I felt hopeless or abandoned or any other theory on suicide. It was because my psychological pain was too great to bear and unfortunately, there are no pills to decrease this kind of pain. There is no anodyne therapy that exists to decrease psychache.

Saturday Blog

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, transgender, writing

Saturday Blog

I have decided to create a blog called a Saturday blog because I will write it on Saturday. Today I am really struggling. I feel like crap. I woke up early, had breakfast, and then went back to sleep. My ankle was bothering me so I had some pain killers that knocked me out until my fricken crazy cousin kept calling my house and my sisters looking for me. He was under the impression that I had a doctor’s appointment today and he was going to take me to it. I had told him I did on Monday as he wanted to get together for lunch. Monday is kind of a busy day for me. I have therapy in the morning and then see my pdoc in the afternoon. I also have to get there early to sign up for state insurance as I will need it come June. I will just take the financial worksheet that medicare gave me and see if that will suffice for income.

Although my sister told me that I don’t need to file taxes because I am under a certain amount, I feel like I need to. This is the first time in my entire adult life that I won’t be filing. I won’t be getting anything back but I just feel like I should file just in case. I know SSD filed for me and I don’t really have to file but I know I should file my state taxes but I don’t have a printer to do so. I am very anxious about it. I would go to H&R Block like I did last year but it cost me $150 (USD) to file and I don’t have that kind of money nor do I think I should pay that much when I am getting nothing back. I think I have to file my state because of the new law about health insurance. You have to prove that you have it for the fiscal year or you get penalized. I have to file paperwork because of my disability status. I rather just go through H&R Block just so I don’t have to deal with it and they know the taxes better than I do. I hate filing paperwork. I wish I could file electronically but its all complicated now with the different forms. I don’t have W2 but forms. It’s all confusing to me.

Still no fricken word from the editor. I am starting to go out of my mind. I so want to publish this book and be done with it. But like I said in my previous blog, it comes with fears. But I think I am strong enough to deal with it. For the first time ever I feel comfortable in my own skin. I still don’t like it when my mother calls me “she” but I am getting used to it. I don’t think that is ever going to change. I might feel like a he but I am never going to look like one to the outside world. It is really depressing if I think about it. I try not to but this morning I was and I felt suicidal. It didn’t last too long but it was still there. As I told my therapist the other day, if I had a chance to kill myself I would. I just still believe I would be better off dead. I mean, I am never going to be a man. I am stuck in this fricken woman’s body that I completely hate. And because I am a dickhead with money, I will never have the money for surgery to remove my damn things on my chest. I have thought about going to Mexico or some other country to get my breasts removed but then I thought, what if I developed an infection because the surgeon just wanted the money or I am left badly scarred. But then I have thoughts of doing it myself and what kind of job would that be? I know there is an organization in my area that deals with LGBT issues. But I am so afraid that if I make that step, there is no going back. And I also am afraid that I will have to make that commitment to myself. But I am just not there yet. I am afraid that they will have these weird requirements to get the hormones and stuff. Like I will have to lose weight or work out to build muscle but I don’t want to do stuff like that. I am not a weight builder. I never was interested in building muscle I just want to be flat chested and grow a beard and a full mustache. But no matter how baggy my shirts are these things on my chest always sticks out. I know it is worse with my weight and I am trying to lose but it is just so hard. I want to try and lose another fifteen pounds but that will take some doing. Trying to control caloric intake is so difficult, especially when you love sweets and potato chips. I try not to buy but my mother does and there goes my will power. Like this morning I had chips while making my egg sandwich. Granted I was looking for pizza from last night but there wasn’t any left over, or if it was, I don’t know where my mother put it in our full fridge. She has a bunch of left over food and I just don’t like eating leftovers.

So tonight, my crazy cousin invited me over for dinner. I am debating taking a shower. My ankle has already yelled at me once today for standing too long. I don’t want to take more pain meds today because I will just go back to sleep. I just had a cup of coffee so I am awake now. But take a couple of pills and I will be down for the count. He is making sausages and potatoes. I haven’t had that in a while. I try to stay away from sausages because my cholesterol is a little bit high right now. But I know it is high because I have not been as mobile as I have been. Soon as the weather becomes nicer, I will start a walking regimen. If I can tolerate walking around the block a couple of times, I might venture further out. But it all depends on how I do. So far I know my limits and it all depends on if I am in pain or not. I know I have to wear my AFO more. I don’t like wearing it but it’s the only way I can walk without feeling more pain than without it.