Tuesday, November 05, 2013
So yesterday was the official four month mark on HRT. Lots of mistakes on dosage and stuff. I'm pretty level now on 8mg Provera (estrogen) and 212mg of Spiro (I split a 25mg). This seems to be the magic dose that works for me, but I haven't gotten any bloodwork done yet on this. I will though either this weekend or next week. Definitely after payday when I will have money to get the bloodwork done.
My finances right now are, well... shit to be honest. My one credit card is maxed out and my bank account is negative $496 (the most negative it can go is $500). I'm scrounging through sofa cushions and drier leftovers looking for spare change. I've managed to find enough to get my gas tank up to half full which will last until payday. Maybe even enough to drive to the gym I've been neglecting.
I've "decided" to go on a starvation diet. When I say decided I really mean forced into it because I'm flat broke and have no money for food. Haven't had any for the past two weeks. So far I've been drinking a lot of water, chicken broth and occasionally munching on leftover Halloween candy. Results so far are surprisingly good (though I cannot recommend anyone trying it). I'm still full of energy, I'm not feeling tired or irritable, no aches and hunger pains, no dizziness or confusion, nothing that usually comes with starvation.
I am, however, losing weight which is awesome. I love getting up in the morning to weigh myself. I'm so very close to breaking down through the 170lb floor. I've really come a long way from the start which was like 210lb or 215lbs. I'm still looking to reach 140lb or lower, but this has been going well.
My arms have been getting very skinny, plus having them completely hairless makes them look youthful and feminine. Even the muscle mass on my hands is starting to come down. My legs are still super chunky like a mans legs, but that will get down too with time. I do have to say that when payday comes this Friday, I'm going out to buy the biggest Papa Johns pizza they offer. The Hawaiian BBQ Chicken and Bacon (no onions) pizza is fucking amazing. It's my happy food when I'm feeling really down which I am lately.
So... yeah, about that. Trigger warning from here on down.
*******************************************************
Bear with me as I've spent most of my life repressing memories of the past. It's just now all coming back to the surface as I confront instead of bury it.
After I came out to my mom, I've been reflecting on my childhood and it's left me very sad, some nights even outright crying my eyes out. I was considered a "problem child" when I was young. I was always getting into fights, even with kids up to twice my age and size. I was vicious because I just didn't care. I'm the one that usually got hurt the worst but I was always the one left standing in the end. I was full of rage and hate and self loathing.
I spent most of my life trying to be "normal" and failing at it. Trying to do what boys and men are supposed to do and act. I knew from age seven or eight that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. I knew that I wasn't who I was supposed to be. I had this weird foreign object between my legs that wasn't supposed to be there. I'm supposed to be a girl and I was not. I thought I was fucked up and broken but nobody else could see it. I felt so horrible at school, at church and at home.
School was unkind to kids who showed even a little feminine side. I was constantly bullied and called faggot, queer, fudge packer, butt pirate, and every other derogatory name imaginable. Of course, I fought back with fists and anger which just made things worse.
Church was even worse. Messages that were meant to inspire and teach morality did nothing of the sort for me. All I saw was hate and contempt aimed at me. It felt like everyone knew exactly who the bishop was referring to and giving instructions on how to treat me badly. I'm a sinner. I'm a disgusting homo. I'm an abomination in the eyes of God. I deserved death.
Home was bad as well. Mom and step dad never listened to anything I had to say. I tried telling them once that I'm wrong and am not actually a boy, but the conversation devolved into moms ramblings about Satan and [real dad] secretly conspiring together and plotting to "get" her somehow, some way. My mom and religion go together like alcohol to an alcoholic or fire to gasoline.
I felt completely alone. Bitter, angry, scared, confused, rejected, filthy, and condemned which no child should ever feel that way. But there it was. It didn't get any better after I was thrown out for good. Each day was misery. I had no ambition and no goals to achieve anything. My one and only goal was to survive the day and that was it.
I continued the charade of being "normal" and results were the same as always. One failed relationship with a woman after the next. Pretending to be interested in male hobbies (although paintball I was genuinely interested in). None of it was working but I kept on trying. Oh my God I tried so desperately hard.
There were many nights where I would cry myself to sleep praying. Asking God why am I broken like this? Please will you fix me? Please just kill me and let this nightmare be over. I don't want to go on like this anymore. Please let me just slip away in my sleep and not come back.
Alcoholism kicked in pretty hard as well as severe obsession with role playing video games. It was my only escape from that hell. Thoughts of suicide came more and more frequently. Eventually it came down to a coin toss. I know it sounds stupid but I quite literally reached the end. Heads, I'd go off and join the Navy and travel the world. Tails I'd overdose on sleeping pills and never wake up.
Fortunately it landed heads and I wound up in the Navy recruiters office the next day. I didn't care about living anymore which made signing the enlistment papers pretty easy. Even the recruiter was surprised by how unconcerned I was about putting my life aside to join the military.
Bootcamped happened and it sucked. Submarine school happened and it was the best year and a half I can remember. Things were great and my deep depression went away, at least for a while.
Then it came back and hit hard. I found myself not giving a damn anymore about my promising military career. I started eating to help with the emotional pain which lead to obesity. Fatties aren't allowed in the military as per the physical fitness biannual exam. After failing three exams in my first enlistment I was kicked out.
Homeless and broke, depression and suicidal thoughts started coming back. Then the "fuck it all" attitude kicked in and I decided to go for it. I'm going to transition and fuck everyone who thinks I'm mentally sick or deranged. Fuck religion for making me feel like garbage. Fuck my parents for all the hurt they dished out. Fuck school, even though I finished it years ago. I'm going for it.
That was about seven months ago. Since then everything is looking up. Everything is brighter and better. Sure shit still happens, but things are constantly improving so it's not so bad. Suicidal thoughts are no longer a strong reality, they're distant memories. Depression is all but gone now. I'm genuinely feeling happy and optimistic about the future. Coming out to everyone and having positive reactions to the news has also been a relief. A huge emotional burden has been lifted.
I'm 4 months into HRT and I'm going strong.
No comments:
Post a Comment