After a trip to the ER and a three day stay in a crisis stabilization unit I have had a new medicine added to my cocktail and have gotten a shot in the ass. Unfortunately, it wasn't the shot I wanted. The syringe was full of Depo Prevara. Apparently I have PMDD. All kinds of awesome. Hopefully the Depo will do what my doctor says it will do and actually stop my periods. Guess this will have to do until I can get approved for T.
As for the new meds, they put me on Zyprexa. So far it seems to be working. The most common side effect reported seems to be weight gain. And it looks like that is the truth for Depo too. Hopefully by staying active I can ward off the pounds I've worked to lose.
Work is sucking at the moment. My hours went from about 34/wk to 8/wk. I've had a few discussions with different members of management and have reached no resolution and have been given no explanation as to why this occurred. Hopefully I can get some answers when I go back for my one day this coming week. In the meantime I am going to explore other options and avenues. The people at the CSU actually mentioned to me that they want me to come back to at least volunteer as a peer counselor if not take a job with them. Go figure. I also need to follow up on a few apps I put in a while ago just out of curiosity.
So that's what has been going on the last week. I feel better. So that is a plus. I feel like I've sorta switched mental directions while my eyes have been opened to a few things. I will write more on this when I have more time and the inspiration strikes. For now I am going to enjoy my weekend.
8/13/09
Lessons to be learned...
So it seems once again I am faced with two lessons I still have yet to learn: picking my battles and knowing when to walk away. And I have recently failed MISERABLY at both. The result: physical and emotional pain, humiliation, shame, regret. Of course, hindsight is 20/20 and now I look back and realize that if I'd just let it slide and walked away I could have avoided the massive explosion that occurred. And I was even being pushed to do so. But I didn't. Why? That is something I've been doing a lot of thinking on lately. Here is what I've come up with...
I am a born fighter. I am also a programmed fighter. I have spent my whole life watching those around me battle over things great and small with the ones they love. And I have spent my whole life battling over things great and small with the ones I love. And for what? Well there are a lot of reasons - to win, to prove a point, to protect/defend myself, for sheer spite, to be an asshole. The programming comes into play in how I fight (and believe me I've learned from the best): I go straight for what hurts the other person the most. I figure if I can shut them down in one blow I win and it's over. Wrong. Has any of it worked? Historically, obviously, no. So why do I keep it up? Habit. Force of fucking habit.
I read somewhere once that it takes 28 days to form a habit. And it can take a lifetime to break a habit. This is a habit I must break. Instead of fight I need another option. I'm not built for flight and I don't believe in running away. I guess I need to learn how to find a middle ground. Learn how to balance the fight with some common sense and clarity. Learn how to stop and take a deep breath and count to 10 in the heat of it before I go straight for the jugular and ask myself, "What result will I get if I attack and is it truly worth it?" If I had done this recently I wouldn't be where I'm at now. If I'd done this in the past things would be different. But, alas, I've walked the road to this point and here I am once again feeling like a total fuck up and on the verge of losing someone I care for deeply. Someone I love. All because I couldn't let go. Couldn't walk away. Couldn't be a stronger man. Couldn't break the cycle. And really, honestly, in a lot of ways I haven't been aware of the cycle. But now that I have identified it, I sure as hell am going to make a very concerted effort to put it to a halt.
I am so deeply sorry. There is no excuse for my behavior. And it will stop. I promise. Change is here.
I am a born fighter. I am also a programmed fighter. I have spent my whole life watching those around me battle over things great and small with the ones they love. And I have spent my whole life battling over things great and small with the ones I love. And for what? Well there are a lot of reasons - to win, to prove a point, to protect/defend myself, for sheer spite, to be an asshole. The programming comes into play in how I fight (and believe me I've learned from the best): I go straight for what hurts the other person the most. I figure if I can shut them down in one blow I win and it's over. Wrong. Has any of it worked? Historically, obviously, no. So why do I keep it up? Habit. Force of fucking habit.
I read somewhere once that it takes 28 days to form a habit. And it can take a lifetime to break a habit. This is a habit I must break. Instead of fight I need another option. I'm not built for flight and I don't believe in running away. I guess I need to learn how to find a middle ground. Learn how to balance the fight with some common sense and clarity. Learn how to stop and take a deep breath and count to 10 in the heat of it before I go straight for the jugular and ask myself, "What result will I get if I attack and is it truly worth it?" If I had done this recently I wouldn't be where I'm at now. If I'd done this in the past things would be different. But, alas, I've walked the road to this point and here I am once again feeling like a total fuck up and on the verge of losing someone I care for deeply. Someone I love. All because I couldn't let go. Couldn't walk away. Couldn't be a stronger man. Couldn't break the cycle. And really, honestly, in a lot of ways I haven't been aware of the cycle. But now that I have identified it, I sure as hell am going to make a very concerted effort to put it to a halt.
I am so deeply sorry. There is no excuse for my behavior. And it will stop. I promise. Change is here.
8/11/09
7/29/09
A test passed...
Today I met with the founders of the local FTM support group here. It was awesome to be around other men like me - though they are both much further along in physical transition. I was worried for a minute that they wouldn't take me seriously. That they would think I was a fake. And it turns out those were valid concerns (seems they've had people in the past who turned out for the worst). But I passed.
Speaking of passing: I am passing more and more every day now. The outward physical changes I have made have been mostly small but in combination enough to change my overall appearance even more. Simple things like removing the earrings I wore for the longest time. Removing all jewelry period. Changing the style and cut of my already short hair. Minor alterations to my dress - men's button down shirts instead of just tshirts.
Greater and more serious changes include binding and packing. Though these are physical they are also hugely mental. To look in the mirror and see a flat chest is amazing. The first time I was able to do that I was so happy I wanted to point it out to everyone but was so nervous at the same time. So many questions were running through my head...can people see the binder? Is my chest flat enough? Do I look like I'm trying too hard? Thankfully having lost a bit of weight it is easier and easier to bind. I have only bound once in the presence of my family and some of their friends at a party. I was so scared one of them would call me out. But the comments I got were "wow you look great you've lost weight" and things of that nature. They noticed the difference but couldn't seem to put a finger on it.
To look down my flat chest and see the ever so slightly noticeable bulge under my shorts/pants is also totally amazing. The feel of a cock between my legs is fantastic. And the surprising confidence that comes with packing is definitely a plus. My first strap and packer came to me a few months ago (thank you to my benefactor for your support in this area and others...you are truly wonderful). I have the Goodfella by Vixen Creations and the Sedeux by Sportsheets. I recommend both products but the Goodfella isn't the best for daily wear and is rather expensive. It is better for pack and play situations. Because of that I recently purchased my first day packer: the Mr. Limpy by Fleshlight. Unfortunately, the company's marketing of this product is repulsive and awful - but that is another story for another post. The product itself is great and the price is under twenty bucks. It is totally comfortable and easy to wear. Also compatible with my harness. Not terribly high maintenance. And damn...the feeling of my partner grabbing my crotch with a pack between my legs is so hot and makes me feel even more masculine.
I guess all of this is to say that I am slowly going from confusing people to moving closer to the end of the spectrum where I truly belong. I still get the lack of pronoun usage from strangers on occasion, but more often than not I get the masculine ones I so need. And that makes me smile. And to be able to meet other people like me and spend time with them and be totally accepted is wonderful. I hope that by joining this group I can take my transition to new levels inside and out and continue to improve myself as the man I have always been.
Speaking of passing: I am passing more and more every day now. The outward physical changes I have made have been mostly small but in combination enough to change my overall appearance even more. Simple things like removing the earrings I wore for the longest time. Removing all jewelry period. Changing the style and cut of my already short hair. Minor alterations to my dress - men's button down shirts instead of just tshirts.
Greater and more serious changes include binding and packing. Though these are physical they are also hugely mental. To look in the mirror and see a flat chest is amazing. The first time I was able to do that I was so happy I wanted to point it out to everyone but was so nervous at the same time. So many questions were running through my head...can people see the binder? Is my chest flat enough? Do I look like I'm trying too hard? Thankfully having lost a bit of weight it is easier and easier to bind. I have only bound once in the presence of my family and some of their friends at a party. I was so scared one of them would call me out. But the comments I got were "wow you look great you've lost weight" and things of that nature. They noticed the difference but couldn't seem to put a finger on it.
To look down my flat chest and see the ever so slightly noticeable bulge under my shorts/pants is also totally amazing. The feel of a cock between my legs is fantastic. And the surprising confidence that comes with packing is definitely a plus. My first strap and packer came to me a few months ago (thank you to my benefactor for your support in this area and others...you are truly wonderful). I have the Goodfella by Vixen Creations and the Sedeux by Sportsheets. I recommend both products but the Goodfella isn't the best for daily wear and is rather expensive. It is better for pack and play situations. Because of that I recently purchased my first day packer: the Mr. Limpy by Fleshlight. Unfortunately, the company's marketing of this product is repulsive and awful - but that is another story for another post. The product itself is great and the price is under twenty bucks. It is totally comfortable and easy to wear. Also compatible with my harness. Not terribly high maintenance. And damn...the feeling of my partner grabbing my crotch with a pack between my legs is so hot and makes me feel even more masculine.
I guess all of this is to say that I am slowly going from confusing people to moving closer to the end of the spectrum where I truly belong. I still get the lack of pronoun usage from strangers on occasion, but more often than not I get the masculine ones I so need. And that makes me smile. And to be able to meet other people like me and spend time with them and be totally accepted is wonderful. I hope that by joining this group I can take my transition to new levels inside and out and continue to improve myself as the man I have always been.
6/1/09
Now what....?
Right now all I can think of is the cliche "when a door closes somewhere a window opens" or however it goes. Meaning, I guess that with every "end" comes a new "beginning" of sorts. But what if you don't want the door to close? How long can you stand and push against it? Can it be propped open? And hell...after it closes who is to say how long it will take to find the supposedly open window? Lots of questions for me these days. And I'm having trouble figuring out where to seek the answers.
I'm in essence staring at a blank page. I can put whatever I want on it. But this blank page is the next in a notebook that contains many many full pages behind it. Some pages I wish I could turn back to. Some I'd just as soon rip out and burn. In a lot of ways I'm tempted to just toss the book and start over. Right now that feels right. Find the reset button and smash it down. And I guess there really is no better time than now.
So now what? I guess I'll try to keep the door propped open and hope it stays while I go and try to find a window. Oh. And take my medication. Yay for better living through pharmaceuticals.
I'm in essence staring at a blank page. I can put whatever I want on it. But this blank page is the next in a notebook that contains many many full pages behind it. Some pages I wish I could turn back to. Some I'd just as soon rip out and burn. In a lot of ways I'm tempted to just toss the book and start over. Right now that feels right. Find the reset button and smash it down. And I guess there really is no better time than now.
So now what? I guess I'll try to keep the door propped open and hope it stays while I go and try to find a window. Oh. And take my medication. Yay for better living through pharmaceuticals.
4/1/09
Who's eyes am I behind?
I look in the mirror and I have no clue who I see. Is it the woman that my body represents? Or is it the man that inhabits my mind?
Should a person hate what they see when they look at themselves? Is the need to want to punch the reflection anywhere near normal?
What is behind the eyes? The eyes that one day are familiar. One day are bright. One day are clouded. One day empty. One day dark. Who is in there?
I can’t translate the image in the mirror into anything some days. The view is totally foreign. Other days I see the sad, lonely, scared pathetic individual who dwells there. And some rare days I see the confident, strong, capable and worthwhile individual I should be. Key word: should.
How do I unlock the real me? How do I even know who that is? I can’t make the pieces fit. I can’t match the inside with the out. And to do so is going to take a long time. And resources I don’t yet have. And even then will the self-image in my brain match what I see? I don’t know.
Should a person hate what they see when they look at themselves? Is the need to want to punch the reflection anywhere near normal?
What is behind the eyes? The eyes that one day are familiar. One day are bright. One day are clouded. One day empty. One day dark. Who is in there?
I can’t translate the image in the mirror into anything some days. The view is totally foreign. Other days I see the sad, lonely, scared pathetic individual who dwells there. And some rare days I see the confident, strong, capable and worthwhile individual I should be. Key word: should.
How do I unlock the real me? How do I even know who that is? I can’t make the pieces fit. I can’t match the inside with the out. And to do so is going to take a long time. And resources I don’t yet have. And even then will the self-image in my brain match what I see? I don’t know.
2/9/09
2:54am
Sometimes life comes with an enormous amount of pain and confusion. The hurt is so deep it gets to the point where only numbness is left. It becomes so comfortable that to live without it is unbearable. And you become trapped. Trapped between torment and that tiny grain of reasoning stuffed somewhere way back in a dusty corner of the mind telling you, "This isn't right. You don't need to live like this." Torn by a heart gone half cold that wants to love but forgot how. How do you try when everything is blank? When nothing makes any sense? When the pain has consumed you? When you feel utterly and completely alone...who do you turn to?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)