Strange to think it's been two months since surgery. Part of me remembers being in San Mateo like it was just yesterday. But at the same time my old life seems so long ago. Nothing feels new anymore. My body feels like it's always been this way. I think back to before surgery and I can't even relate to that person. How it felt, what that was like, all starting to blur and fade.
It's interesting how fast we can adapt to some changes compared to others. I guess it makes perfect sense though. My body is with me all the time, day and night, awake and asleep. Other changes, like moving to my dad's, take longer to adjust to. I'm not always at my dad's. I may be at my mom's or out with friends or eating or shopping or whatever. But my body is always there. Don't really have a choice but to adjust to physical changes when it's something you have to deal with 24/7.
I feel pretty good all-in-all. Happy at my dad's for now. Although it's still obviously not what I really want. I still don't have complete freedom or privacy. Like if I wanted to run downstairs full speed, naked, screaming and making "whoo hoo" noises at 4am, that would be frowned upon. And my cats are still not here. Friend of mine had a great suggestion for a child gate that may work if I can persuade all parties involved. My dad seems more willing than my mom. My mom doesn't want to let them go because then it's just her and her one cat. And I feel bad for her cat cause she'll be all alone all day and night when my mom's not there. But I miss my cats! No way on Goddess' green Earth that my ass will ever go back to my mom's house though. Doing that in my mind would be like giving up on life entirely. And I'm not quite there yet.
Physically I'm doing great. Boobs still need close to 10 months from what I'm told before they start to like soften and skin relaxes and they feel more a part of me. They look great though. Be so glad when I can ditch this surgical bra forever. That's less than a month away now! As for the bottom, looks great. Still some minor swelling on the left side labia majora or whatever. Still that weird hard feeling underneath up top but that's normal and supposedly will decrease over time. Some funky dead skin still there that hasn't gone away. But again, that will happen. Overall, everything is perfect, looks perfect, works perfect. Have had a couple orgasms now (like literally only 2). So things work. Seem to be unable to have an orgasm from masturbating yet. Not sure what that's about. But with the next money I get I'm going to go shopping for some stuff to, how shall we say, help with that problem.
Still at a weird place though in life when you think about it. Going through a lot of what most people would have gone through from age 12 to 18. Having to relearn my body and what I do and don't like. Having to adjust to physical changes suddenly. And deciding now that I'm pretty much done with that, what do I plan to do with what's left of my life? Most people would have figured this stuff out like ages ago. Well, ages ago if they are my age obviously not ages ago if they're young cause that wouldn't make sense...
That first month after surgery was pretty awful for me I gotta say. Had so much drama. Having to move. Not being able to have an orgasm yet. Hormones going back to where they should be. Pissed off many people, friends, family. Second month was a whole lot of me time. Getting adjusted to my body. Moving my stuff to my dad's. Getting furniture. Figuring out what I'm doing. Relearning basic things like how to bathe and pee and have sex. Things most people have pretty much figured out by the time they're almost 40.
Now, the next thing I have to do is try to fix a whole lot of messed up friendships. I've already accepted the fact that not all of them will be fixable and that I'm likely going to be down a few friends when the dust settles. But one-by-one I need to try and work things out with them. It wasn't my intention to piss anyone off. I didn't wake up thinking, hey, let me piss everyone off. My life just got too overwhelming for me. And while I know my friends lives are intense too, and they all have their own problems, and their lives may seem overwhelming to them. Point is, mine was/is overwhelming to me. And made it impossible for awhile there to deal with or even listen to most other people's problems. Not that I didn't care. But that I was just overloaded mentally and emotionally. All I could do is push everyone away for my own sanity.
But I have hope that 2013 will be the most amazing year EVER! I really think it will. Starting a whole new year, whole new life, new body, living in a new place. It's like someone hit the reset button on my fucked up life finally. And now I can start over again from scratch. Rebuild friendships. Fix life. Rediscover myself and the world. As I go forward, leaving all that was behind me. Slightly difficult to start life at age 40. But that's, as they say, the hand I was dealt I guess. Better late than never? I dunno. lol Guess we'll see.
Blessed Yule to anyone that actually bothers to read this. Somehow I feel like I'm just talking to myself when I type this stuff. But I look like crap today so just didn't have it in me to do video. Next time.
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Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Settling Into Life
So yes, my dad is super supportive and accepting of me being trans obviously. He pretty much gets me being pansexual. And he gets intersex. Great. I'm so very thankful for that.
What I'm discovering now though as I continue moving my stuff over here from my mom's house is that he's considerably less understanding of other things.
As I load the upstairs with geekdom, remote control R2 units, katana, light saber, cosplay stuff, box of phasers, video games and consoles going back 4 decades, etc. He just mostly laughs and makes fun of me. The usual "you'll never grow up" stuff. That's fine, I can deal with that. Not the biggest deal. Bit annoying and ridiculous but whatever.
My being Libertarian... far less accepted. From Mr. "I'm a registered Democrat" that's then voted Republican in every election his entire life. We argue a lot. He does nothing but watch Faux News errr Fox News all day. Makes me sick some of the things they say on there. But I stay quiet and avoid it. But then he starts bitching out "those damn liberals." And I'm like... uh... yeah.
And the real issue is my being Wiccan. He's Catholic. And he doesn't know. And has made many very strong comments against Paganism over the years. When I finally start loading my books into the bedroom he's going to have a coronary.
So not sure what to do about all this. I mean it's WAY better here than my mom's. And I will NEVER go back there. My dad and I fight but at least he's not crazy, unpredictable, random, senseless, chaotic, and all that other crap that my mom is.
Need to move out of here as soon as I can. But really can't deal with that until at least six months post-op when I know I'm healed up completely and such. Plus section 8 housing closed in Miami-Dade and Broward like a year to two years ago. Both full and not taking more applicants. I do not make enough money to survive on my own with what people want for rent even if I roommate with someone. And if I get a job I will not be able to get full disability it will only be partial. Which is a problem because of the Humira for example which is a class 3 medicine and without full coverage it's roughly $2k a week. Even with assistance from them it would be $800 per week. Which means if I did get a job I'd have to get a millionaire's job. Need to make money under the table or illegally somehow. Kind of forced to. How fucked up is that?
Dunno how I'm supposed to survive like this. I'm clearly stuck at my dad's for at least a year. Still so much to do. So much medical crap all day planning everything I do around when I need to do dilation and epsom salt bath and it's maddening. I haven't even figured out how to get my birth certificate amended or replaced or whatever. I've asked several people and got no real answers that were helpful.
Feeling a bit lost and confused over life. But feel physically great. And emotionally and mentally doing much better now as far as the surgery itself. Just life in general being a pain now. Overall though, things are good for now. Could be better. But certainly better than they were at my mom's. As hard as it was to get out of there it was probably the best thing I've ever done for myself. lol
What I'm discovering now though as I continue moving my stuff over here from my mom's house is that he's considerably less understanding of other things.
As I load the upstairs with geekdom, remote control R2 units, katana, light saber, cosplay stuff, box of phasers, video games and consoles going back 4 decades, etc. He just mostly laughs and makes fun of me. The usual "you'll never grow up" stuff. That's fine, I can deal with that. Not the biggest deal. Bit annoying and ridiculous but whatever.
My being Libertarian... far less accepted. From Mr. "I'm a registered Democrat" that's then voted Republican in every election his entire life. We argue a lot. He does nothing but watch Faux News errr Fox News all day. Makes me sick some of the things they say on there. But I stay quiet and avoid it. But then he starts bitching out "those damn liberals." And I'm like... uh... yeah.
And the real issue is my being Wiccan. He's Catholic. And he doesn't know. And has made many very strong comments against Paganism over the years. When I finally start loading my books into the bedroom he's going to have a coronary.
So not sure what to do about all this. I mean it's WAY better here than my mom's. And I will NEVER go back there. My dad and I fight but at least he's not crazy, unpredictable, random, senseless, chaotic, and all that other crap that my mom is.
Need to move out of here as soon as I can. But really can't deal with that until at least six months post-op when I know I'm healed up completely and such. Plus section 8 housing closed in Miami-Dade and Broward like a year to two years ago. Both full and not taking more applicants. I do not make enough money to survive on my own with what people want for rent even if I roommate with someone. And if I get a job I will not be able to get full disability it will only be partial. Which is a problem because of the Humira for example which is a class 3 medicine and without full coverage it's roughly $2k a week. Even with assistance from them it would be $800 per week. Which means if I did get a job I'd have to get a millionaire's job. Need to make money under the table or illegally somehow. Kind of forced to. How fucked up is that?
Dunno how I'm supposed to survive like this. I'm clearly stuck at my dad's for at least a year. Still so much to do. So much medical crap all day planning everything I do around when I need to do dilation and epsom salt bath and it's maddening. I haven't even figured out how to get my birth certificate amended or replaced or whatever. I've asked several people and got no real answers that were helpful.
Feeling a bit lost and confused over life. But feel physically great. And emotionally and mentally doing much better now as far as the surgery itself. Just life in general being a pain now. Overall though, things are good for now. Could be better. But certainly better than they were at my mom's. As hard as it was to get out of there it was probably the best thing I've ever done for myself. lol
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
They Said, "Wait Until 6 Weeks." That Was Not A Lie.
When those bandages were first removed everything looked so perfect. Maybe I was just overwhelmed. Maybe I was blinded by happiness. I do not know. But it looked perfect. Too perfect.
Two weeks post-op it looked much less than perfect. Some skin was bright red, inflamed looking. Other parts looked almost grey in color. There was swelling everywhere. Stitches sticking out all over where they were starting to break as parts began to dissolve. Skin was torn in a few spots. Scars were a mess. It was frankly scary looking and freaked me out. Dilation was very difficult. And the medium size dilator was beyond torture causing me to pass out from pain the first time.
By four weeks it was officially disturbing. I was starting to really worry. Not only was it looking weirder it was feeling weird. And as I would find out a week later I was beginning to get a skin infection. Cellulitis.
Five weeks brought me a skin infection, even more swelling, parts of stitches falling off. Long parts of stitches coming out amongst massive amounts of vaginal discharge. An overwhelming stench. Incredible swelling and major redness. Funky discomfort that felt hard under the skin. Just a variety of things. Enough to cause me worry. I called Dr. Bowers' office in Colorado. Emailed her nurse in California. Texted her. Emailed my ob/gyn. Started asking friends, family, everyone what they think could be wrong.
End result was a skin infection. A course of antibiotics for a week. The discovery that the hard feeling going on is in fact the erectile tissue folded and moved under the skin that apparently does get hard like an erection at times. And most importantly, peace of mind that things were not totally screwed up and I'd be fine.
Somewhere around five and a half weeks I had my first post-op orgasm. Brining me relief in so many ways. The last piece fell into place. I could relax now knowing that the operation was a success and everything was working as intended.
When I talked to Safina in San Mateo, California, Robin in Trinidad, Colorado, and the others, they all said the same thing. The same thing that's in my discharge info. Wait until six weeks. That by six weeks everything will look so much better. I was told that at two weeks. Again at 4 weeks. At 5 weeks in my panicked state. Everyone and everything all saying wait until six weeks.
And that brings me to today. Wednesday again. Making it now officially six weeks since surgery. One week of antibiotics are done. Week since I saw the doctor. And how am I doing? Swelling is down a LOT. Only some puffiness up above everything in the pubic area and some on the left side, labia majora/minora that whole area is swollen some still. Rest of the swelling is gone. Stitches have all dissolved entirely except for a very small spot near the clit that does still cause a pinching pain sometimes. The red inflamed skin is no longer looking inflamed or red. Looking like a normal light pink color. Very little odor if any. Hair covering scars that are healed and starting to fade. Dilation is so much easier. I can tolerate the medium sized dilator now. Still not ready for the large one. I still struggle with medium but it's not debilitating anymore. I can have orgasms. I get wet. And 9 out of 10 times when I go to the bathroom now I pee in a straight stream into the bowl. No longer a random spray that goes in every direction except where I want it to. There is still the unusual hard feeling from the folded erectile tissue. It feels like this weird pressure at times that can be almost painful. But it's supposed to get better with time.
Overall, everything is great. Looks great, feels pretty good, working as it should. Oh, and the top is perfect too. Stitches gone up there as well. No pain or discomfort. Still stuck wearing a surgical bra until January 24th. But they look great, feel great, love them. Current measurements put me at a 38C.
So they were right. I was starting to lose faith for a bit there around week five. I didn't think it would improve that much that fast. But, Marci and her team are the experts. After over a thousand of these operations it's safe to say they know exactly what to expect. Complete and total success!
Two weeks post-op it looked much less than perfect. Some skin was bright red, inflamed looking. Other parts looked almost grey in color. There was swelling everywhere. Stitches sticking out all over where they were starting to break as parts began to dissolve. Skin was torn in a few spots. Scars were a mess. It was frankly scary looking and freaked me out. Dilation was very difficult. And the medium size dilator was beyond torture causing me to pass out from pain the first time.
By four weeks it was officially disturbing. I was starting to really worry. Not only was it looking weirder it was feeling weird. And as I would find out a week later I was beginning to get a skin infection. Cellulitis.
Five weeks brought me a skin infection, even more swelling, parts of stitches falling off. Long parts of stitches coming out amongst massive amounts of vaginal discharge. An overwhelming stench. Incredible swelling and major redness. Funky discomfort that felt hard under the skin. Just a variety of things. Enough to cause me worry. I called Dr. Bowers' office in Colorado. Emailed her nurse in California. Texted her. Emailed my ob/gyn. Started asking friends, family, everyone what they think could be wrong.
End result was a skin infection. A course of antibiotics for a week. The discovery that the hard feeling going on is in fact the erectile tissue folded and moved under the skin that apparently does get hard like an erection at times. And most importantly, peace of mind that things were not totally screwed up and I'd be fine.
Somewhere around five and a half weeks I had my first post-op orgasm. Brining me relief in so many ways. The last piece fell into place. I could relax now knowing that the operation was a success and everything was working as intended.
When I talked to Safina in San Mateo, California, Robin in Trinidad, Colorado, and the others, they all said the same thing. The same thing that's in my discharge info. Wait until six weeks. That by six weeks everything will look so much better. I was told that at two weeks. Again at 4 weeks. At 5 weeks in my panicked state. Everyone and everything all saying wait until six weeks.
And that brings me to today. Wednesday again. Making it now officially six weeks since surgery. One week of antibiotics are done. Week since I saw the doctor. And how am I doing? Swelling is down a LOT. Only some puffiness up above everything in the pubic area and some on the left side, labia majora/minora that whole area is swollen some still. Rest of the swelling is gone. Stitches have all dissolved entirely except for a very small spot near the clit that does still cause a pinching pain sometimes. The red inflamed skin is no longer looking inflamed or red. Looking like a normal light pink color. Very little odor if any. Hair covering scars that are healed and starting to fade. Dilation is so much easier. I can tolerate the medium sized dilator now. Still not ready for the large one. I still struggle with medium but it's not debilitating anymore. I can have orgasms. I get wet. And 9 out of 10 times when I go to the bathroom now I pee in a straight stream into the bowl. No longer a random spray that goes in every direction except where I want it to. There is still the unusual hard feeling from the folded erectile tissue. It feels like this weird pressure at times that can be almost painful. But it's supposed to get better with time.
Overall, everything is great. Looks great, feels pretty good, working as it should. Oh, and the top is perfect too. Stitches gone up there as well. No pain or discomfort. Still stuck wearing a surgical bra until January 24th. But they look great, feel great, love them. Current measurements put me at a 38C.
So they were right. I was starting to lose faith for a bit there around week five. I didn't think it would improve that much that fast. But, Marci and her team are the experts. After over a thousand of these operations it's safe to say they know exactly what to expect. Complete and total success!
Saturday, November 24, 2012
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!: First Post-Op Orgasm
I'm not going to say where, when, or how. What I am going to say is how glad I am that it did.
Since surgery I have had a lot of issues to overcome as I adjust to my new body. But my biggest fear both before and after surgery has been whether or not I'd be able to have an orgasm. Before surgery I masturbated several times a day. I had sex a lot throughout my life (more so in my youth lol). And in my mind it was a lot to risk. Since surgery, five and a half weeks ago, I've been worried. I haven't had or been able to have an orgasm during this entire time. It's led to me being stressed, sexually frustrated, short-tempered, and hostile. I've been just spinning on people and bitching them out. My family, friends, whoever.
Well finally, I can say my new parts work. And like I had heard it felt pretty much the same as it used to except much more intense and much more difficult to achieve. But what matters is it works! I can't begin to express what a huge relief it is just knowing that.
Since surgery I have had a lot of issues to overcome as I adjust to my new body. But my biggest fear both before and after surgery has been whether or not I'd be able to have an orgasm. Before surgery I masturbated several times a day. I had sex a lot throughout my life (more so in my youth lol). And in my mind it was a lot to risk. Since surgery, five and a half weeks ago, I've been worried. I haven't had or been able to have an orgasm during this entire time. It's led to me being stressed, sexually frustrated, short-tempered, and hostile. I've been just spinning on people and bitching them out. My family, friends, whoever.
Well finally, I can say my new parts work. And like I had heard it felt pretty much the same as it used to except much more intense and much more difficult to achieve. But what matters is it works! I can't begin to express what a huge relief it is just knowing that.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
14th Annual International Transgender Day of Remembrance
I wrote this article for the Unitarian Fellowship of South Florida's website. They are a small Unitarian Universalist church located in Hollywood, Florida that I've gone to events at. I know several of their fellowship, some for as long as 16 years. I've simply copy pasted the article below. Enjoy!
_________________________________________________________________________________
265 People Killed in the Last 12 Months*
265 people, humans, the same as you or me. Parents, children, friends, like yours. They did nothing wrong. They lived. They loved. They worked and went to school. They ate the same food, drank the same water, breathed the same air. But their lives were taken because they wanted what we all want. To be happy, to be themselves, to live the lives they wanted to live. 265 innocent lives lost due to hate, prejudice, and a lack of education and understanding.
When I was asked to write an article on the 14th Annual International Transgender Day of Remembrance I didn't know where to begin. Should I talk about the dead? Should I talk about what it's like to be transgender? Should I tell my story? But then I saw this statistic. It's utterly heartbreaking. And this only includes the murders that were reported and doesn't even include all the suicides.
To think in one year that many of my sisters' and brothers' lives were cut short by hate; hurts me deeply. To think they will never have what I have. To think they died doing exactly what I'm doing. I can't understand that level of hatred.
I'm transgender. I'm post-op. And living a life they can no longer have. Yes we need to remember those lost. We need the world to know how many innocents are being killed because they identify as transgender. But we also need to celebrate life. The world also needs to see those of us who are still alive. And hopefully through education and by hearing our stories the world may slowly begin to understand that we are no different from anyone else except that we aren't the gender the world tries to tell us we are.
Most people can never imagine waking up every day hating who you are, the way you look, the pronouns people call you. Most people will live their entire lives without giving much thought to gender, hormones, chromosomes, their own names even. Their lives will go on and they will check the box "male" or "female" without so much as a second thought.
But try for a second to imagine a life where you feel the world forcing you into checking one box when you know you're the other. Imagine hating the clothes you're forced by society to wear in order to "fit in". Imagine looking in the mirror and hating what you see EVERY TIME. Day in and day out, for years, for decades.
A lot of transgender people have come forth in the last couple years. Many celebrities have publicly transitioned, thereby increasing public awareness about what it's like being transgender. Chaz Bono, son of world famous singer Cher. Laura Jane Grace, singer-guitarist of the punk band Against Me!. Jenna Talackova, Miss Universe Canada contestant. Lana Wachowski, director, screenwriter and producer. Hopefully in time as our stories are told the world will come to understand.
But, these senseless murders need to stop. So take this Tuesday, November 20th to remember those lost. Light a candle in their name. But also go forward and do your part to stand up for transgender rights wherever and whenever you can. Because transgender rights are human rights. Help spread love and education. And let's all pray, meditate, and send energy into the universe that one day these awful crimes will cease and that this unwarranted hate will subside.
Events are being held around the world this week to remember those lost and to provide awareness and hope for the future. You can find a complete list of events worldwide at www.transgenderdor.org.
Locally, you can join myself and others for a candle lighting ceremony at:
The Pride Center
2040 N. Dixie Highway
Wilton Manors, FL 33305
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
7:00p.m.-9:00p.m.
www.pridecenterflorida.org/2012/11/14th-international-transgender-day-of-remembrance/
For more info on Transgender Day of Remembrance visit these links:
http://www.transgenderdor.org/
http://www.facebook.com/transdayofremembrance
http://www.wipeouttransphobia.com/
For information, resources, references and education visit the following sites:
The YES Institute - The Source For Knowledge On Gender & Orientation
The TRUE Group - Transgender Support Group for Miami-Dade
The Alliance for GLBTQ Youth - Providing Services for Transgender Youth & Their Families
Sunserve - Resources For Transgender Individuals & Their Families
The Pride Center - LGBTQ Center
There are many other resources available. For any further questions about anything above or anything related to transgender topics please feel free to contact me directly at krysta@true-group.org.
*source: Transgender Europe’s Trans Murder Monitoring Project
Article by Krysta Lynn Cascio.
_________________________________________________________________________________
265 People Killed in the Last 12 Months*
265 people, humans, the same as you or me. Parents, children, friends, like yours. They did nothing wrong. They lived. They loved. They worked and went to school. They ate the same food, drank the same water, breathed the same air. But their lives were taken because they wanted what we all want. To be happy, to be themselves, to live the lives they wanted to live. 265 innocent lives lost due to hate, prejudice, and a lack of education and understanding.
When I was asked to write an article on the 14th Annual International Transgender Day of Remembrance I didn't know where to begin. Should I talk about the dead? Should I talk about what it's like to be transgender? Should I tell my story? But then I saw this statistic. It's utterly heartbreaking. And this only includes the murders that were reported and doesn't even include all the suicides.
I'm transgender. I'm post-op. And living a life they can no longer have. Yes we need to remember those lost. We need the world to know how many innocents are being killed because they identify as transgender. But we also need to celebrate life. The world also needs to see those of us who are still alive. And hopefully through education and by hearing our stories the world may slowly begin to understand that we are no different from anyone else except that we aren't the gender the world tries to tell us we are.
Most people can never imagine waking up every day hating who you are, the way you look, the pronouns people call you. Most people will live their entire lives without giving much thought to gender, hormones, chromosomes, their own names even. Their lives will go on and they will check the box "male" or "female" without so much as a second thought.
But try for a second to imagine a life where you feel the world forcing you into checking one box when you know you're the other. Imagine hating the clothes you're forced by society to wear in order to "fit in". Imagine looking in the mirror and hating what you see EVERY TIME. Day in and day out, for years, for decades.
A lot of transgender people have come forth in the last couple years. Many celebrities have publicly transitioned, thereby increasing public awareness about what it's like being transgender. Chaz Bono, son of world famous singer Cher. Laura Jane Grace, singer-guitarist of the punk band Against Me!. Jenna Talackova, Miss Universe Canada contestant. Lana Wachowski, director, screenwriter and producer. Hopefully in time as our stories are told the world will come to understand.
But, these senseless murders need to stop. So take this Tuesday, November 20th to remember those lost. Light a candle in their name. But also go forward and do your part to stand up for transgender rights wherever and whenever you can. Because transgender rights are human rights. Help spread love and education. And let's all pray, meditate, and send energy into the universe that one day these awful crimes will cease and that this unwarranted hate will subside.
Events are being held around the world this week to remember those lost and to provide awareness and hope for the future. You can find a complete list of events worldwide at www.transgenderdor.org.
The Pride Center
2040 N. Dixie Highway
Wilton Manors, FL 33305
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
7:00p.m.-9:00p.m.
www.pridecenterflorida.org/2012/11/14th-international-transgender-day-of-remembrance/
For more info on Transgender Day of Remembrance visit these links:
http://www.transgenderdor.org/
http://www.facebook.com/transdayofremembrance
http://www.wipeouttransphobia.com/
For information, resources, references and education visit the following sites:
The YES Institute - The Source For Knowledge On Gender & Orientation
The TRUE Group - Transgender Support Group for Miami-Dade
The Alliance for GLBTQ Youth - Providing Services for Transgender Youth & Their Families
Sunserve - Resources For Transgender Individuals & Their Families
The Pride Center - LGBTQ Center
There are many other resources available. For any further questions about anything above or anything related to transgender topics please feel free to contact me directly at krysta@true-group.org.
*source: Transgender Europe’s Trans Murder Monitoring Project
Article by Krysta Lynn Cascio.
Monday, November 19, 2012
A Little Bit On Shoes... Another First After 24 Years
Tonight my mom bought me a pair of cheap ass sneakers. Not sure why I was suddenly motivated to get sneakers tonight but I really wanted a pair.
Well, these are the first sneakers I've owned in 24 years. Last time I owned sneakers we old folks still called them tennis shoes.
Anyone reading this is at this point wondering what the hell... Well, 24 years ago is when I was first starting to identify as transgender. Took two years before I officially stuck that label on myself. But I knew I didn't want anything to do with anything stereotypically considered "male". And in my mind sneakers were masculine, they meant activities like sports, exercise, things that would lead to building up muscles and becoming more guy like.
Of course now I realize how ridiculous that is. But back then I had a totally different view of everything. And so for 24 years I wore nothing but heels and boots. Even when working or forced to dress more "male" I wore boots. But not anymore. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm still going to usually wear boots cause I freaking love boots! And heels. And boots WITH heels! *drool* But, sneakers too. Especially with my yoga pants instead of those lace up heels that are 15ish years old and look it.
It's funny when I think about it. Before surgery I felt no matter what I did or what I wore I still looked like a guy. And now after surgery I feel like no matter what I do or what I wear I still look like a woman. Makes no real sense logically. I mean I don't look THAT different. It's not like I'm walking around naked.
Just an interesting observation about myself. And shoes.
Well, these are the first sneakers I've owned in 24 years. Last time I owned sneakers we old folks still called them tennis shoes.
Anyone reading this is at this point wondering what the hell... Well, 24 years ago is when I was first starting to identify as transgender. Took two years before I officially stuck that label on myself. But I knew I didn't want anything to do with anything stereotypically considered "male". And in my mind sneakers were masculine, they meant activities like sports, exercise, things that would lead to building up muscles and becoming more guy like.
Of course now I realize how ridiculous that is. But back then I had a totally different view of everything. And so for 24 years I wore nothing but heels and boots. Even when working or forced to dress more "male" I wore boots. But not anymore. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm still going to usually wear boots cause I freaking love boots! And heels. And boots WITH heels! *drool* But, sneakers too. Especially with my yoga pants instead of those lace up heels that are 15ish years old and look it.
It's funny when I think about it. Before surgery I felt no matter what I did or what I wore I still looked like a guy. And now after surgery I feel like no matter what I do or what I wear I still look like a woman. Makes no real sense logically. I mean I don't look THAT different. It's not like I'm walking around naked.
Just an interesting observation about myself. And shoes.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
One Month Post-Op
The month that felt like a decade. FINALLY my mind is slowing and the fog and chaos are clearing. Still a long way from feeling "right". Still a great many things going on in my head. But here's where I'm at with my thoughts.
I've had many realizations over the last few weeks, several this week. And yes, my hormones were messed up for awhile which was just like a catalyst for everything else. Two weeks before surgery I was required to stop taking the medroxyprogesterone and spironolactone. In two weeks time my testosterone shot up from 10 to over 400. Left me an hysterical mess the last few days. Was flipped out over the documentary film crew not coming. Was a mental case about getting pre-op pics taken. Had a dozen or so breakdowns those final days right up until I was knocked out for surgery.
Then I woke up. And within two weeks (again) or maybe less, my testosterone plummeted from well over 400 to 6. So I went from short tempered, hostile, and crazed to emotional, traumatized by everything that happens, and generally overwhelmed in like 4 weeks. All of this is a major piece to the puzzle of what the hell is wrong with me. But this is just one piece of a far more complex clusterfuck of things going on within me.
One of the more significant realizations I had came a few days ago. In true geek fashion this knowledge was imparted onto me by Master Yoda. Star Wars episode 3: Revenge of the Sith. Anakin Skywalker was having nightmare visions of his wife Padme Amidala dying during childbirth (giving birth to Princess Leia Organna Skywalker Solo, and Luke Skywalker). The whole reason he went to the darkside and became Lord Darth Vader was for love. But the nightmares drove him crazy. So he sought out the power to stop the ones he loves from dying. Being mislead by Chancellor Palpatine (Darth Sidious aka The Emperor).
Getting off topic a bit there. But at one point he goes to Master Yoda seeking advice. And he tells him about his nightmares. And Yoda tells him to overcome his fear he must learn to let go of that which he is most afraid to lose. And I realized something right then.
As those who heard me speak that week after I returned may remember me saying. I feel like I had to let go of everything for my surgery. My Crohn's Disease was starting to flare up pretty bad. My health was questionable. My mental state even more so. I felt that I had maybe a 40ish % chance of not surviving my surgery. I told this to only two people (and a third figured it out on his own). I was scared surgery would be canceled if I said anything to anyone. And I fought so hard to get to that point. Even though I was full of doubts and almost canceled it myself, I knew I HAD to do it no matter what!
So I left. With my dad to San Francisco. I saw everyone I could before I left. Felt like I was going through my bucket list. I said goodbye to my friends, to their families, to their pets. Said goodbye to those I love thinking I may never see them again. Said goodbye to my own cats. Said goodbye to my mom who despite her bat shit craziness, has always been there for me in her own fucked up way. I had to let go of everyone and everything. I had to accept the fact that the sexual relationship I was in and LOVED would never be the same if it even continued. Had to sacrifice my own body parts. Which for someone that's masturbated like 5 times a day every day (or more) for 20+ years, was difficult to say the least. My house, my stuff, my life, my memories, everything. All left behind.
Yes, there was a greater chance of things going right than I calculated. But in my mind at that time, during that last week, I had to accept that I was willing to let go of EVERYTHING just to be myself.
And then I had surgery... One month ago. Wednesday, October 17th, 2012 at 11:30a.m. PST. Forever etched in my mind.
And things went perfect. And it was great. It IS great. More than great. There are no words to explain how happy I am with things physically. But, there I was, post-op in San Mateo, having a great time in my new life. And when it came time to return to my old life. I did NOT want to. I really, really did not want to. I didn't want to go back to all the problems and misery and crappy old house, and financial issues and all that. I didn't want to know how much everything would change or how different it would all feel for me. But I had no real choice but to return.
The flight back I was antsy, fidgety, and restless. The second we landed I had nothing but issues. Issues with the airport, wheelchair to get out, with my mom driving on the ride home, with everything. I was just miserable. And I snapped. I couldn't deal with being back in my mom's house. Crammed in that little room with everything I own. No space, felt claustrophobic. HAD to get out. So I threw what I could into my car at like 2a.m. and moved to my dad's. Because it was the only place I could afford and get to right then. Leaving my cats and my mom and everything behind again.
Then for the first few weeks I felt so in between. Most of my stuff I use, my clothes, my computer, the things that mean something to me, all here at my dad's. But my cats... my mom... my past... is still all there.
Then I finally got to see my friends, talk to my friends, hang out with them. And it wasn't the same either. I realize now after much thought that when I left I let go of everything. I had to let go of my feelings for everyone too. When I left, it was like everything here, all of South Florida was dead to me for those first 3 days. I clung to a few things. But in the end, those final moments, I let go of the love I had for everyone and everything that was my life. Because I was, in my chaotic state of mental breakdown and unbalanced hormones, fairly convinced I wasn't going to make it through surgery.
Nothing and no one mattered as much to me when I got back. This is why I was able to leave my mom's house. Leave her and my cats behind. And a lot of my stuff. This is why I've had trouble talking to and hanging out with my friends. This is why I feel so detached from my old life.
Before surgery, like a few weeks before. I had this big plan. I was going to come back, sell some of the less valuable collectibles on eBay, then use that money to get a table at Supercon or something to sell the better more valuable stuff. Had 2 other money making things planned too. Was going to use that money to move out and maybe roommate with a friend or something in a couple months. Had a lot of plans. But then all this happened and everything was thrown into chaos.
Well, my testosterone was 6 the other day. My estrogen is starting to go up now since my doctor changed my meds again. Everything is starting to be clear in my mind. I feel like the dust and smoke and flying debris and shrapnel and stuff have all hit the ground and I have a clear view of my life. But what do I see? I see a wasteland like someone dropped a tactical nuke (or decided to do Fire Storm in the middle of the battlefield taking out both armies including the good guys and the dragon that was on our side). And in the middle, me, looking awesome as hell. Like some beautiful statue erected in the middle of ground zero after the huge explosion. I stand there, looking great, feeling great, physically and now mentally. But emotionally distraught because I am looking around at this devastation that was my life realizing that I am the bomb that blew it all to hell....
Not 100% sure yet how to fix the mess I've made of my life since I got back. I've pissed off some of my closest friends. Hurt those I love. Left my mom in a situation she can't handle on her own. Left my cats behind. Left my stuff behind. I have no money. And I'm living in a mostly empty room with nothing but a cot, a dresser, and a small handful of my stuff. The house is my dad's. My car is my dad's. I have less than a dollar in the bank. In fact, the ONLY thing I have left is this damn computer. It's all I have that I can say is mine and mine alone. The only thing of any real value that's left.
But then I had another revelation, realization, whatever. A friend of mine, post-op transwoman that had her surgery exactly 24 hours before mine, posted a video blog on YouTube that made me think about a few things. First off, transitioning is hard. That seems obvious but it's good to remember. And, as a transperson I can create who I am. I can make my own experience however I want it to be. What I need to do is somehow build my life over from the ground up. I need to reevaluate every aspect of it and make it how I want it. Not sure how to do that but the realization that I can do it is a big deal to me.
And as for my friends. Yet another realization. I did let go of everything. But that doesn't mean I can't reconnect it all now. I realized this thinking about a friend of mine. He's been the one friend that I have felt like our friendship hasn't changed. Everyone else it felt a bit different. And I realize now why this is. He was the first friend I saw when I got back. And in fact the only friend I saw that first week back. And then again a couple more times. We reconnected. That's all it was. That's all it took. Just spending that much time with him, it made it all feel like it used to.
Then the second friend I saw after coming back. Someone I love probably too much. We hung out, but in a setting with others where chatting wasn't possible most of the time. So things still felt odd. Then we hung out for a little bit a few days later and things felt better, but still off. And we talked and texted and things feel pretty normal now with him too. I mean still a bit distant feeling but better.
Seems so simple. All I need to do is go one person at a time I guess. Hang out with them, preferably just them where we can talk and I can find that connection again. So I guess what I do is go systematically through my friends one-by-one and see who I reconnect with and who I don't. Literally rebuilding person-by-person, step-by-step, from the ground up.
I guess I start by apologizing to everyone? Seems so... not good enough. And how can I help my mom? I won't go back. And my cats... My mom doesn't want to let them go and my dad's afraid to bring them here because they'd kick his cat's asses most likely. And I have no money... I feel so alone. I know I'm not. I know I do still have a couple friends out there that haven't been caught in the maelstrom that is my life. But I still don't feel the love I had for a lot of people. Most people. I still feel... cold...
So that's where I'm at. I feel like I understand what has happened this last month better than I did. Short version, too much at once left me distancing myself from everyone and everything, perhaps too much. I made a huge mess of things. I understand it better now. But am still a long way from knowing how to fix everything. No idea what my life is going to end up like in a few months. Common sense tells me to go slowly. Deal with one person at a time and one problem at a time. Jumping back into my life will end up like that night a few weeks before surgery when my dumb ass thought it would be cool to take a running, jumping leap, in a string bikini, into a cold pool, at like 2am or 5am or some crazy time. Into the 5 foot side. STILL have a scar on my left foot from that one. Sometimes yelling "Geronimo!" and leaping into shit is not the best idea. Really.
I've got a busy week this week leading up to and through Turkey Day. Going to take another week to keep myself fairly distant from most of my friends so as to not further screw things up or piss anyone off. Going to take some "me" time. Have laser hair removal this week, and the 14th Annual International Transgender Day of Remembrance. Then Turkey Day. Variety of errands and stuff. By next Saturday though I will return to my life, slowly, very, very slowly. And pick one person at a time to contact and hopefully reconnect. I will start rebuilding who I am, what I'm doing, where I'm going, my goals, future, plans, income, living arrangement, all of that. Baby steps.
As for how my physical health is now at one month post-op. Overall, great! I have issues, yeah. I have questions, yep. But still, great! Issues I have? Well, the lower, outer, quadrant of both breasts is totally numb. The inner, lower, quadrant of both feels like it used to. The top half is hyper sensitive. That seems odd to me. I may be wrong, I dunno. And I get a funky pinching feeling in my other new parts. My brain could tell you exactly where that feeling would be on my old parts but where it is now I am not even sure. I can't even pin-point where this pinching feeling is now let alone why it's happening. And then there's this funky feeling that feels like an erection. Just started today. What's that all about? It's not the same feeling I've been getting from being aroused. It's yet another unidentified sensation. And there's a couple things that I can't figure out when looking at stuff. Things I sort of need to be in front of a doctor and point at to even ask what's going on. Not something I can put into text at all. And I still have that nagging worry and fear I can't shake about having an orgasm. I haven't had one post-op and still scared that I might not be able to. I know that's almost certainly not the case. But until it actually happens I will be super stressed and worried about it. Not to mention the overall sexual frustration I'm feeling. Again, I used to masturbate a LOT, like all the time, my therapist insisted I'm a sex addict based on that. I think that's a bit extreme. I said "ex" therapist right? Yeah. And then there's the dilation. It's getting better I think. But I'm also now getting another strange pins and needle feeling sometimes while doing it. And I am still VERY much struggling to use the medium size. Can't do it every time even. And that worries me too. Then there's the strange tight area about two inches in that I don't know if that's muscle, pelvic bone, scar tissue, or from the prostrate. And I think I lost some depth though I'm not sure how. I have been going to the same point on the dilator since I started. But out there they said 5.5 inches. And I measured where I'm getting to and it's more like 4 to 4.5 inches. Don't understand that at all. Anyhow, overall things look great, feel great, but still lots I don't understand. Definitely can't complain though.
So happy one month to me! And happy one month to my friends Sarah and Erin should they read this! Yay us! heh
I've had many realizations over the last few weeks, several this week. And yes, my hormones were messed up for awhile which was just like a catalyst for everything else. Two weeks before surgery I was required to stop taking the medroxyprogesterone and spironolactone. In two weeks time my testosterone shot up from 10 to over 400. Left me an hysterical mess the last few days. Was flipped out over the documentary film crew not coming. Was a mental case about getting pre-op pics taken. Had a dozen or so breakdowns those final days right up until I was knocked out for surgery.
Then I woke up. And within two weeks (again) or maybe less, my testosterone plummeted from well over 400 to 6. So I went from short tempered, hostile, and crazed to emotional, traumatized by everything that happens, and generally overwhelmed in like 4 weeks. All of this is a major piece to the puzzle of what the hell is wrong with me. But this is just one piece of a far more complex clusterfuck of things going on within me.
One of the more significant realizations I had came a few days ago. In true geek fashion this knowledge was imparted onto me by Master Yoda. Star Wars episode 3: Revenge of the Sith. Anakin Skywalker was having nightmare visions of his wife Padme Amidala dying during childbirth (giving birth to Princess Leia Organna Skywalker Solo, and Luke Skywalker). The whole reason he went to the darkside and became Lord Darth Vader was for love. But the nightmares drove him crazy. So he sought out the power to stop the ones he loves from dying. Being mislead by Chancellor Palpatine (Darth Sidious aka The Emperor).
Getting off topic a bit there. But at one point he goes to Master Yoda seeking advice. And he tells him about his nightmares. And Yoda tells him to overcome his fear he must learn to let go of that which he is most afraid to lose. And I realized something right then.
As those who heard me speak that week after I returned may remember me saying. I feel like I had to let go of everything for my surgery. My Crohn's Disease was starting to flare up pretty bad. My health was questionable. My mental state even more so. I felt that I had maybe a 40ish % chance of not surviving my surgery. I told this to only two people (and a third figured it out on his own). I was scared surgery would be canceled if I said anything to anyone. And I fought so hard to get to that point. Even though I was full of doubts and almost canceled it myself, I knew I HAD to do it no matter what!
So I left. With my dad to San Francisco. I saw everyone I could before I left. Felt like I was going through my bucket list. I said goodbye to my friends, to their families, to their pets. Said goodbye to those I love thinking I may never see them again. Said goodbye to my own cats. Said goodbye to my mom who despite her bat shit craziness, has always been there for me in her own fucked up way. I had to let go of everyone and everything. I had to accept the fact that the sexual relationship I was in and LOVED would never be the same if it even continued. Had to sacrifice my own body parts. Which for someone that's masturbated like 5 times a day every day (or more) for 20+ years, was difficult to say the least. My house, my stuff, my life, my memories, everything. All left behind.
Yes, there was a greater chance of things going right than I calculated. But in my mind at that time, during that last week, I had to accept that I was willing to let go of EVERYTHING just to be myself.
And then I had surgery... One month ago. Wednesday, October 17th, 2012 at 11:30a.m. PST. Forever etched in my mind.
And things went perfect. And it was great. It IS great. More than great. There are no words to explain how happy I am with things physically. But, there I was, post-op in San Mateo, having a great time in my new life. And when it came time to return to my old life. I did NOT want to. I really, really did not want to. I didn't want to go back to all the problems and misery and crappy old house, and financial issues and all that. I didn't want to know how much everything would change or how different it would all feel for me. But I had no real choice but to return.
The flight back I was antsy, fidgety, and restless. The second we landed I had nothing but issues. Issues with the airport, wheelchair to get out, with my mom driving on the ride home, with everything. I was just miserable. And I snapped. I couldn't deal with being back in my mom's house. Crammed in that little room with everything I own. No space, felt claustrophobic. HAD to get out. So I threw what I could into my car at like 2a.m. and moved to my dad's. Because it was the only place I could afford and get to right then. Leaving my cats and my mom and everything behind again.
Then for the first few weeks I felt so in between. Most of my stuff I use, my clothes, my computer, the things that mean something to me, all here at my dad's. But my cats... my mom... my past... is still all there.
Then I finally got to see my friends, talk to my friends, hang out with them. And it wasn't the same either. I realize now after much thought that when I left I let go of everything. I had to let go of my feelings for everyone too. When I left, it was like everything here, all of South Florida was dead to me for those first 3 days. I clung to a few things. But in the end, those final moments, I let go of the love I had for everyone and everything that was my life. Because I was, in my chaotic state of mental breakdown and unbalanced hormones, fairly convinced I wasn't going to make it through surgery.
Nothing and no one mattered as much to me when I got back. This is why I was able to leave my mom's house. Leave her and my cats behind. And a lot of my stuff. This is why I've had trouble talking to and hanging out with my friends. This is why I feel so detached from my old life.
Before surgery, like a few weeks before. I had this big plan. I was going to come back, sell some of the less valuable collectibles on eBay, then use that money to get a table at Supercon or something to sell the better more valuable stuff. Had 2 other money making things planned too. Was going to use that money to move out and maybe roommate with a friend or something in a couple months. Had a lot of plans. But then all this happened and everything was thrown into chaos.
Well, my testosterone was 6 the other day. My estrogen is starting to go up now since my doctor changed my meds again. Everything is starting to be clear in my mind. I feel like the dust and smoke and flying debris and shrapnel and stuff have all hit the ground and I have a clear view of my life. But what do I see? I see a wasteland like someone dropped a tactical nuke (or decided to do Fire Storm in the middle of the battlefield taking out both armies including the good guys and the dragon that was on our side). And in the middle, me, looking awesome as hell. Like some beautiful statue erected in the middle of ground zero after the huge explosion. I stand there, looking great, feeling great, physically and now mentally. But emotionally distraught because I am looking around at this devastation that was my life realizing that I am the bomb that blew it all to hell....
Not 100% sure yet how to fix the mess I've made of my life since I got back. I've pissed off some of my closest friends. Hurt those I love. Left my mom in a situation she can't handle on her own. Left my cats behind. Left my stuff behind. I have no money. And I'm living in a mostly empty room with nothing but a cot, a dresser, and a small handful of my stuff. The house is my dad's. My car is my dad's. I have less than a dollar in the bank. In fact, the ONLY thing I have left is this damn computer. It's all I have that I can say is mine and mine alone. The only thing of any real value that's left.
But then I had another revelation, realization, whatever. A friend of mine, post-op transwoman that had her surgery exactly 24 hours before mine, posted a video blog on YouTube that made me think about a few things. First off, transitioning is hard. That seems obvious but it's good to remember. And, as a transperson I can create who I am. I can make my own experience however I want it to be. What I need to do is somehow build my life over from the ground up. I need to reevaluate every aspect of it and make it how I want it. Not sure how to do that but the realization that I can do it is a big deal to me.
And as for my friends. Yet another realization. I did let go of everything. But that doesn't mean I can't reconnect it all now. I realized this thinking about a friend of mine. He's been the one friend that I have felt like our friendship hasn't changed. Everyone else it felt a bit different. And I realize now why this is. He was the first friend I saw when I got back. And in fact the only friend I saw that first week back. And then again a couple more times. We reconnected. That's all it was. That's all it took. Just spending that much time with him, it made it all feel like it used to.
Then the second friend I saw after coming back. Someone I love probably too much. We hung out, but in a setting with others where chatting wasn't possible most of the time. So things still felt odd. Then we hung out for a little bit a few days later and things felt better, but still off. And we talked and texted and things feel pretty normal now with him too. I mean still a bit distant feeling but better.
Seems so simple. All I need to do is go one person at a time I guess. Hang out with them, preferably just them where we can talk and I can find that connection again. So I guess what I do is go systematically through my friends one-by-one and see who I reconnect with and who I don't. Literally rebuilding person-by-person, step-by-step, from the ground up.
I guess I start by apologizing to everyone? Seems so... not good enough. And how can I help my mom? I won't go back. And my cats... My mom doesn't want to let them go and my dad's afraid to bring them here because they'd kick his cat's asses most likely. And I have no money... I feel so alone. I know I'm not. I know I do still have a couple friends out there that haven't been caught in the maelstrom that is my life. But I still don't feel the love I had for a lot of people. Most people. I still feel... cold...
So that's where I'm at. I feel like I understand what has happened this last month better than I did. Short version, too much at once left me distancing myself from everyone and everything, perhaps too much. I made a huge mess of things. I understand it better now. But am still a long way from knowing how to fix everything. No idea what my life is going to end up like in a few months. Common sense tells me to go slowly. Deal with one person at a time and one problem at a time. Jumping back into my life will end up like that night a few weeks before surgery when my dumb ass thought it would be cool to take a running, jumping leap, in a string bikini, into a cold pool, at like 2am or 5am or some crazy time. Into the 5 foot side. STILL have a scar on my left foot from that one. Sometimes yelling "Geronimo!" and leaping into shit is not the best idea. Really.
I've got a busy week this week leading up to and through Turkey Day. Going to take another week to keep myself fairly distant from most of my friends so as to not further screw things up or piss anyone off. Going to take some "me" time. Have laser hair removal this week, and the 14th Annual International Transgender Day of Remembrance. Then Turkey Day. Variety of errands and stuff. By next Saturday though I will return to my life, slowly, very, very slowly. And pick one person at a time to contact and hopefully reconnect. I will start rebuilding who I am, what I'm doing, where I'm going, my goals, future, plans, income, living arrangement, all of that. Baby steps.
As for how my physical health is now at one month post-op. Overall, great! I have issues, yeah. I have questions, yep. But still, great! Issues I have? Well, the lower, outer, quadrant of both breasts is totally numb. The inner, lower, quadrant of both feels like it used to. The top half is hyper sensitive. That seems odd to me. I may be wrong, I dunno. And I get a funky pinching feeling in my other new parts. My brain could tell you exactly where that feeling would be on my old parts but where it is now I am not even sure. I can't even pin-point where this pinching feeling is now let alone why it's happening. And then there's this funky feeling that feels like an erection. Just started today. What's that all about? It's not the same feeling I've been getting from being aroused. It's yet another unidentified sensation. And there's a couple things that I can't figure out when looking at stuff. Things I sort of need to be in front of a doctor and point at to even ask what's going on. Not something I can put into text at all. And I still have that nagging worry and fear I can't shake about having an orgasm. I haven't had one post-op and still scared that I might not be able to. I know that's almost certainly not the case. But until it actually happens I will be super stressed and worried about it. Not to mention the overall sexual frustration I'm feeling. Again, I used to masturbate a LOT, like all the time, my therapist insisted I'm a sex addict based on that. I think that's a bit extreme. I said "ex" therapist right? Yeah. And then there's the dilation. It's getting better I think. But I'm also now getting another strange pins and needle feeling sometimes while doing it. And I am still VERY much struggling to use the medium size. Can't do it every time even. And that worries me too. Then there's the strange tight area about two inches in that I don't know if that's muscle, pelvic bone, scar tissue, or from the prostrate. And I think I lost some depth though I'm not sure how. I have been going to the same point on the dilator since I started. But out there they said 5.5 inches. And I measured where I'm getting to and it's more like 4 to 4.5 inches. Don't understand that at all. Anyhow, overall things look great, feel great, but still lots I don't understand. Definitely can't complain though.
So happy one month to me! And happy one month to my friends Sarah and Erin should they read this! Yay us! heh
Monday, November 12, 2012
What Happened to My Life?
There are many posts and things I wrote that still haven't been put up on my blog because I was without a pc for a month.
But, this is a big one right now.
What the hell happened to my life? I left for surgery with both parents supporting me and wishing me luck, with a horde of friends that love me, cheering happily for me.
Then I came back.
My mom has been hateful and malicious to me on a daily basis to where I had to move to my dad's. My dad keeps preaching that he's fed up with everything and about to wash his hands of both me and my mom and be done with me completely.
My friends, all seem different. I used to get called and texted all the time to hang out with this person or that person. To the point where I had to turn down some people because I already had plans with others. Now? Nothing. No one seems to really wanna do anything, hang out, or even talk.
I try to talk to them but it all feels so different. My best friends. People that are like family to me. People I love. But, everything feels off. If this was a Sci-Fi show I'd be expecting this to be an alternate reality or something where things are almost the same but not quite. Nothing my friends say to me seems important. Everyone seems to be talking about things I don't care about anymore. And no one seems to care about anything I have to say. It's so strange it's hard to even put into words.
Most of them are flat out not doing voice calls. IF I'm lucky to get them to chat in texts or on facebook it's not the same. There's a strange level of tension and discomfort I can't understand.
I don't understand what's happened. But I feel like I have few to no close friends (not like I had). And feel like I don't even have much family. In fact, I'm starting to wonder what I have left to keep me here at all. Maybe I should save up some money, straighten out some things, and take off far away somewhere and start over from scratch.
But, part of me, a HUGE part of me, is hoping this will pass. Is hoping that this is hormonal or something. Hoping that things aren't how they seem. Because I don't want to lose those friends and all we've been through and our whole lives and histories together. I do love and care for them, but, I feel different in ways I can't even explain in words apparently.
I'm happy about surgery. I love my body right now more than ever. I have no regrets about any of it. But, I REALLY miss a year ago. I miss that holiday party back in 2011 with all those people most of which don't speak to each other anymore, some of which I don't speak to anymore. Back before all of this insanity that has been the last few months.
I feel I've lost a lot of friends. Or at least the closeness I had with most of them. I lost my mom. Lost my cats. My life. Why the hell am I staying here? I really should leave all this behind, move far away and start over. I just don't feel there's anything left of my old life.
But then I can't help but wonder if it's my emotions. If it's hormones. Am I crazy? Maybe I'm wrong? I don't know anymore. All I know is what I feel and everything feels WAY different and not in the happy way I thought it would. Way different in a WTF happened sort of way.
But, this is a big one right now.
What the hell happened to my life? I left for surgery with both parents supporting me and wishing me luck, with a horde of friends that love me, cheering happily for me.
Then I came back.
My mom has been hateful and malicious to me on a daily basis to where I had to move to my dad's. My dad keeps preaching that he's fed up with everything and about to wash his hands of both me and my mom and be done with me completely.
My friends, all seem different. I used to get called and texted all the time to hang out with this person or that person. To the point where I had to turn down some people because I already had plans with others. Now? Nothing. No one seems to really wanna do anything, hang out, or even talk.
I try to talk to them but it all feels so different. My best friends. People that are like family to me. People I love. But, everything feels off. If this was a Sci-Fi show I'd be expecting this to be an alternate reality or something where things are almost the same but not quite. Nothing my friends say to me seems important. Everyone seems to be talking about things I don't care about anymore. And no one seems to care about anything I have to say. It's so strange it's hard to even put into words.
Most of them are flat out not doing voice calls. IF I'm lucky to get them to chat in texts or on facebook it's not the same. There's a strange level of tension and discomfort I can't understand.
I don't understand what's happened. But I feel like I have few to no close friends (not like I had). And feel like I don't even have much family. In fact, I'm starting to wonder what I have left to keep me here at all. Maybe I should save up some money, straighten out some things, and take off far away somewhere and start over from scratch.
But, part of me, a HUGE part of me, is hoping this will pass. Is hoping that this is hormonal or something. Hoping that things aren't how they seem. Because I don't want to lose those friends and all we've been through and our whole lives and histories together. I do love and care for them, but, I feel different in ways I can't even explain in words apparently.
I'm happy about surgery. I love my body right now more than ever. I have no regrets about any of it. But, I REALLY miss a year ago. I miss that holiday party back in 2011 with all those people most of which don't speak to each other anymore, some of which I don't speak to anymore. Back before all of this insanity that has been the last few months.
I feel I've lost a lot of friends. Or at least the closeness I had with most of them. I lost my mom. Lost my cats. My life. Why the hell am I staying here? I really should leave all this behind, move far away and start over. I just don't feel there's anything left of my old life.
But then I can't help but wonder if it's my emotions. If it's hormones. Am I crazy? Maybe I'm wrong? I don't know anymore. All I know is what I feel and everything feels WAY different and not in the happy way I thought it would. Way different in a WTF happened sort of way.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
I Am the Scars
So, amongst everything else yesterday I had this realization.
I was standing in the bathroom about to take a shower (so naked cause that's how that works usually). I was still more asleep than awake. When I looked in the mirror my first thought was that I looked photoshopped. Like someone stuck my head on another body. All so surreal.
But, then my eyes went from what's new to what's old. My scars from all the Crohn's surgeries. The scars that Dr. Beck was going to fix in California but then decided not to. I was so upset when that happened. I wanted to fix everything. Or I thought I did...
And now, I realize, I don't. Maybe I'm going crazy. I don't know. But, amidst all the surrealism of a body I still have difficulty believing is mine, there was me. The scars of who I am, what I've been through, the road traveled so-to-speak. It grounded me. Made me still feel like me. Where the colostomy bag was for 2.5 years. Where the ileostomy bag was for 6 months. Where the stitches ripped and the wound vac was. The scars from stitches, sutures, staples, etc.
It seems crazy to me after having gone through so much to have the body I've always wanted that I would WANT to keep the scars. Especially when they're so extensive and likely a turn off to most people.
But I realize now the Goddess prevented me from fixing them in San Mateo for a reason. Because they're really all that's left of who I was. As I sit here in a new body, new living situation, without my cats or my mom, with a pc that I still haven't had time to piece together. Everything that was is gone. And as happy as I am about it all it is still hard to let go of an entire life all at once. Everything that I was. So yeah, I'll keep my scars till the day I die, the internal ones, the emotional ones, and yes, the external ones too.
I was standing in the bathroom about to take a shower (so naked cause that's how that works usually). I was still more asleep than awake. When I looked in the mirror my first thought was that I looked photoshopped. Like someone stuck my head on another body. All so surreal.
But, then my eyes went from what's new to what's old. My scars from all the Crohn's surgeries. The scars that Dr. Beck was going to fix in California but then decided not to. I was so upset when that happened. I wanted to fix everything. Or I thought I did...
And now, I realize, I don't. Maybe I'm going crazy. I don't know. But, amidst all the surrealism of a body I still have difficulty believing is mine, there was me. The scars of who I am, what I've been through, the road traveled so-to-speak. It grounded me. Made me still feel like me. Where the colostomy bag was for 2.5 years. Where the ileostomy bag was for 6 months. Where the stitches ripped and the wound vac was. The scars from stitches, sutures, staples, etc.
It seems crazy to me after having gone through so much to have the body I've always wanted that I would WANT to keep the scars. Especially when they're so extensive and likely a turn off to most people.
But I realize now the Goddess prevented me from fixing them in San Mateo for a reason. Because they're really all that's left of who I was. As I sit here in a new body, new living situation, without my cats or my mom, with a pc that I still haven't had time to piece together. Everything that was is gone. And as happy as I am about it all it is still hard to let go of an entire life all at once. Everything that I was. So yeah, I'll keep my scars till the day I die, the internal ones, the emotional ones, and yes, the external ones too.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
To Put Into Words That Which Can Not Be...
I'm desperately wanting to post something. I'm not sure what though. I feel so overwhelmed. To try and put these feelings into words, it's impossible. I don't know what to say. But something must be said.
So much in my mind, racing, roaring in my head. My hormones unbalanced and my body fighting me on every turn. I have no control of my emotions right now and minimal control over anything. Rational thought processes and reasoning are beyond my reach. My mind makes me question everything. Am I sane? Would I know? Am I right? What IS right? Would I know it if I saw it? And would what I thought was right really be? What if I'm making a mistake? Then would everything I've ever done be a mistake? What if I'm right, but then it goes wrong? Should I turn left? Milk or orange juice?
My stomach replaces my heart. My heart replaces my throat. Cold air fills my chest cavity as adrenaline races through my veins and down my arms. My thoughts blur. Vision goes black. Am I fainting? Is it a heart attack? Is everyone else right? Will I be ok? They all say it's the right thing to do... I've made so many bad choices. Am I right to trust my friends who know me better than I myself? Or is trusting my friends the bad choice in itself?
So much to do. So much I've done. To be so near the end and not know anything for sure. To not know one's future. To not know ones self. Do you jump off the cliff just because it feels like the right thing to do? What if it's not? Others have jumped and survived and are living life. Will I be the dumbass that hits a rock on the way down?
Time goes so fast. Time goes so slow. At the same time. All the time. Time has gone. Time is over. But time is just beginning. Or is it? Will the world end? Will I reach my end? Will it be the final end? Or is it the End of the Beginning?
So much in my mind, racing, roaring in my head. My hormones unbalanced and my body fighting me on every turn. I have no control of my emotions right now and minimal control over anything. Rational thought processes and reasoning are beyond my reach. My mind makes me question everything. Am I sane? Would I know? Am I right? What IS right? Would I know it if I saw it? And would what I thought was right really be? What if I'm making a mistake? Then would everything I've ever done be a mistake? What if I'm right, but then it goes wrong? Should I turn left? Milk or orange juice?
My stomach replaces my heart. My heart replaces my throat. Cold air fills my chest cavity as adrenaline races through my veins and down my arms. My thoughts blur. Vision goes black. Am I fainting? Is it a heart attack? Is everyone else right? Will I be ok? They all say it's the right thing to do... I've made so many bad choices. Am I right to trust my friends who know me better than I myself? Or is trusting my friends the bad choice in itself?
So much to do. So much I've done. To be so near the end and not know anything for sure. To not know one's future. To not know ones self. Do you jump off the cliff just because it feels like the right thing to do? What if it's not? Others have jumped and survived and are living life. Will I be the dumbass that hits a rock on the way down?
Time goes so fast. Time goes so slow. At the same time. All the time. Time has gone. Time is over. But time is just beginning. Or is it? Will the world end? Will I reach my end? Will it be the final end? Or is it the End of the Beginning?
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Emotions Making Me Lose Focus
Rough couple days. Sadly there are some things I can't talk about in specific details on my blog. As much as I'd love to vent. Because I don't want to drag others down or say shit about people publicly like that. What matters is that I've been a hot mess train wreck for over 24 hours. Just now starting to get my head back on straight.
Short, vague, and anonymous summary. I was made to feel like total crap, belittled and made to feel less than for no reason whatsoever when I wasn't doing anything wrong, having a good time, minding my own business, just chilling with friends. I had a friend that helped build up my confidence over the last year and a half by telling me all these great things about what a wonderful person I am. And then I felt crushed as that person had the nerve to compare me to them. I mean who the hell does that right? As different as everyone is, how do you even do that? My brain can't even wrap itself around this concept.
I was shocked, appalled, blown away by what I was hearing. Let's just say it was very unexpected. Especially right then seemingly out of the blue. After the shock faded I was hurt, crying, crushed. Then I got mad, pissed, hateful. Then resentful. Then I was like who gives a shit anyhow. And when my emotions settled I thought about it and am like, wait a minute, why am I upset, this person is wrong. I'm not saying that I'm smarter or prettier. I'm saying they aren't either. I'm saying what the fuck basically. We're soooooo VERY different. The expression that comes to mind is like comparing apples to oranges. But it's more than that. It's like comparing, um, I don't know, like mangos to fried shrimp. This person has tons of knowledge in many things I know nothing about. And I have tons of knowledge in many things they don't. And we're completely different everything physically. To compare doesn't even make sense. Like I said before, my brain doesn't even get this.
And now I'm like, this is all so stupid, I can't believe I was upset. I guess it just hit me how much of a shit I couldn't give what anyone thinks. Especially when I know how I look and I know what I know and I know my IQ and my life. Which most people do not.
And that's another thing right there. Something I've been thinking about recently. Most people don't know most people that they think they know. Not at all. Because you only really ever see your friends when you're hanging out, having fun, at parties and events. So no one ever sees all the stuff that other people do. Whether it be their boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend, acquaintance, family, whoever. I mean none of my friends are there when I am going to doctors, grocery store, pharmacy, helping my parents with a million things, cleaning house, cat litter, laundry, when I'm doing yoga, when I go do a speaking engagement, when I spend 7 months fighting with courts and bureaucracy to get legal shit taken care of, when I spend countless hours on the phone arguing with insurance, or filling out food stamps for myself or my mom, or helping her file taxes, or taking my friend to his doctor, or helping another friend with their name change, or taking courses at Yes, or working on the TRUE Group website, or any of the billions of other things I do. NO ONE ever sees that stuff. So people assume shit.
"...everyone knows, when you make an assumption, you make an "ass" out of "u" and "umption." - Samuel L. Jackson, The Long Kiss Goodnight
Just cause someone is disabled or gets money by other means, one should not therefore assume that person doesn't do anything. Cause that's bullshit. "One does what one can when one can do it."
So am I mad? Yeah. Am I hurt? Yeah. Am I sure why? No. Will I get over it? I don't know. Do I really give a shit though? Not so much... not so much...
11 days until surgery. 7 days and 4 hours until I arrive at the airport. I feel bad at times having my dad pay $40k to get me through this. But honestly, no one that isn't trans, no one who hasn't walked in our shoes, no matter how much they "get it" or think they understand or support, will NEVER TRULY understand. Not their fault. They can't. I'd fuck over my family, best friends, whoever, whatever, wherever, however, anything it takes to get this surgery done. WHATEVER it takes. No holds barred. So I feel bad, but I have no other way and I am sick of living a life of lies and misery. And I feel bad talking about how excited I am when so many people are in the same shoes and NEED to have their surgery but can't. And that's sad. But I'm also not going to hold back my happiness right now to spare others' feelings. Frankly, I don't give a shit about ANYTHING or ANYONE else right now. That seem selfish? That seem wrong? Ask me if I care right now. I've gone through so much shit over the last almost 40 years. So much horrific crap and work and nonsense the last two decades to get to this point. Sorry if I don't give a fuck about anything else right now.
Short, vague, and anonymous summary. I was made to feel like total crap, belittled and made to feel less than for no reason whatsoever when I wasn't doing anything wrong, having a good time, minding my own business, just chilling with friends. I had a friend that helped build up my confidence over the last year and a half by telling me all these great things about what a wonderful person I am. And then I felt crushed as that person had the nerve to compare me to them. I mean who the hell does that right? As different as everyone is, how do you even do that? My brain can't even wrap itself around this concept.
I was shocked, appalled, blown away by what I was hearing. Let's just say it was very unexpected. Especially right then seemingly out of the blue. After the shock faded I was hurt, crying, crushed. Then I got mad, pissed, hateful. Then resentful. Then I was like who gives a shit anyhow. And when my emotions settled I thought about it and am like, wait a minute, why am I upset, this person is wrong. I'm not saying that I'm smarter or prettier. I'm saying they aren't either. I'm saying what the fuck basically. We're soooooo VERY different. The expression that comes to mind is like comparing apples to oranges. But it's more than that. It's like comparing, um, I don't know, like mangos to fried shrimp. This person has tons of knowledge in many things I know nothing about. And I have tons of knowledge in many things they don't. And we're completely different everything physically. To compare doesn't even make sense. Like I said before, my brain doesn't even get this.
And now I'm like, this is all so stupid, I can't believe I was upset. I guess it just hit me how much of a shit I couldn't give what anyone thinks. Especially when I know how I look and I know what I know and I know my IQ and my life. Which most people do not.
And that's another thing right there. Something I've been thinking about recently. Most people don't know most people that they think they know. Not at all. Because you only really ever see your friends when you're hanging out, having fun, at parties and events. So no one ever sees all the stuff that other people do. Whether it be their boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend, acquaintance, family, whoever. I mean none of my friends are there when I am going to doctors, grocery store, pharmacy, helping my parents with a million things, cleaning house, cat litter, laundry, when I'm doing yoga, when I go do a speaking engagement, when I spend 7 months fighting with courts and bureaucracy to get legal shit taken care of, when I spend countless hours on the phone arguing with insurance, or filling out food stamps for myself or my mom, or helping her file taxes, or taking my friend to his doctor, or helping another friend with their name change, or taking courses at Yes, or working on the TRUE Group website, or any of the billions of other things I do. NO ONE ever sees that stuff. So people assume shit.
"...everyone knows, when you make an assumption, you make an "ass" out of "u" and "umption." - Samuel L. Jackson, The Long Kiss Goodnight
Just cause someone is disabled or gets money by other means, one should not therefore assume that person doesn't do anything. Cause that's bullshit. "One does what one can when one can do it."
So am I mad? Yeah. Am I hurt? Yeah. Am I sure why? No. Will I get over it? I don't know. Do I really give a shit though? Not so much... not so much...
11 days until surgery. 7 days and 4 hours until I arrive at the airport. I feel bad at times having my dad pay $40k to get me through this. But honestly, no one that isn't trans, no one who hasn't walked in our shoes, no matter how much they "get it" or think they understand or support, will NEVER TRULY understand. Not their fault. They can't. I'd fuck over my family, best friends, whoever, whatever, wherever, however, anything it takes to get this surgery done. WHATEVER it takes. No holds barred. So I feel bad, but I have no other way and I am sick of living a life of lies and misery. And I feel bad talking about how excited I am when so many people are in the same shoes and NEED to have their surgery but can't. And that's sad. But I'm also not going to hold back my happiness right now to spare others' feelings. Frankly, I don't give a shit about ANYTHING or ANYONE else right now. That seem selfish? That seem wrong? Ask me if I care right now. I've gone through so much shit over the last almost 40 years. So much horrific crap and work and nonsense the last two decades to get to this point. Sorry if I don't give a fuck about anything else right now.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
24 Days 'till Surgery & 3 Weeks 'till I Arrive in Cali.
Laying here in bed thinking again. It's something I like to do... think. Three weeks from right now I'll be laying in the hotel bed at the Residence Inn Mariott in San Mateo, California. Getting ready to go to sleep so I can get to both doctor appointments the next day. I likely will have just come from the hotel's heated pool. Since I can't go swimming for 6+ weeks after surgery I plan to go while I can now that I'm hooked on swimming again so badly.
I expect I'll be a nervous wreck. I think I'll ask Dr. Bowers for some medication to calm my nerves for the last couple days. I'm sure she can give me any number of a dozen things to relax me and/or help me sleep. Somehow seriously doubt I'm the first patient she's had that's nervous about surgery. lol
I really only worry because my health is so awful. I have a pretty crappy history as far as post-op recovery. Those 13 surgeries for Crohn's Disease and related side effects were rough. But truthfully I know I'll be fine. And in a few months I'll be looking back at this blog reading this and chuckling and crying cause I'll be so happy. I just tend to worry a lot. I get that from both my parents. Which is a big part of why the three of us have been driving each other insane.
So just waiting. Times going so fast and yet so slow. I have all my medical supplies except for one or two minor things I can pick up anywhere. Will need more of most of this stuff but I have enough to get myself through the difficult parts right after surgery. Not much else to do. I'm going to purchase some decent luggage before I go. That's really my last significant thing to do in my mind. Last time I borrowed my dad's billion year old horrible piece of crap suitcase. It was a challenge to close the zippers every time. And it was basically just not very easy to carry, pull, open, use, or fit anything in. Going to get a 3 piece set when I get my money in October. A decent sized suitcase I can put my clothes in. Something big enough to hold boots and jackets and so forth. Also want pockets to separate things. And room to put like device chargers and adapters and such. Then need a carry-on that can hold my meds and the cushion I'll have to sit on and the likely breakable souvenirs I plan to buy before surgery at the comic shop in San Mateo and post-op at George Lucas ILM Studios.
Another thing that's worrying me is that it's starting to get harder and harder to focus on how happy I will be afterwards. And it's becoming easier and easier to focus on the surgery. Which of course makes me freak out and worry and panic. I know everything will be alright but thinking about the details of the surgery still horrifies me. I want it done but really don't want to know about it. Kinda wish I was less knowledgeable than I am sometimes. lol Just knowing the specifics of the operation makes me freak.
My one other big fear is that it's happening so fast I don't have a lot of time to get things done. I have been planning to get some pre-op pics taken but my friend is having issues getting in touch with the person to use the studio. This is a huge deal to me right now. I am so freaked out about going through surgery and having no record or anything of the past. Especially with such an awful memory. I'm scared of losing everything. I want something more than my failing memory. And I'm hoping to put together this book down the road. But if surgery comes and goes without these pics I'm screwed. I know my friend is trying all he can. But again, I worry a lot. And time is going so fast I'm in total panic mode about everything.
And on top of all this I haven't had time to hang out with a lot of my friends. I feel like I'm neglecting people. I know at least one of them that's already mad at me because of it. And I don't know what to do about it. There's just too much happening at once. My brain is spinning in my head. And my dad calls up to yell at me every day about going out anywhere. I told him I hardly did anything last week except stuff with him and my mom and he was still pissed that I went to game night last night. It's like seriously? I don't need this shit right now. Hell I could be dead in 24 days!
In the end all I can say is I'll be glad when all this is over. The stress, the aggravation, the worry, the fear, the headaches, the difficulties, the anticipation, the waiting, all of it. So close and so far. I just want it to all be over so I can relax for a minute and not have to worry about anything.
I expect I'll be a nervous wreck. I think I'll ask Dr. Bowers for some medication to calm my nerves for the last couple days. I'm sure she can give me any number of a dozen things to relax me and/or help me sleep. Somehow seriously doubt I'm the first patient she's had that's nervous about surgery. lol
I really only worry because my health is so awful. I have a pretty crappy history as far as post-op recovery. Those 13 surgeries for Crohn's Disease and related side effects were rough. But truthfully I know I'll be fine. And in a few months I'll be looking back at this blog reading this and chuckling and crying cause I'll be so happy. I just tend to worry a lot. I get that from both my parents. Which is a big part of why the three of us have been driving each other insane.
So just waiting. Times going so fast and yet so slow. I have all my medical supplies except for one or two minor things I can pick up anywhere. Will need more of most of this stuff but I have enough to get myself through the difficult parts right after surgery. Not much else to do. I'm going to purchase some decent luggage before I go. That's really my last significant thing to do in my mind. Last time I borrowed my dad's billion year old horrible piece of crap suitcase. It was a challenge to close the zippers every time. And it was basically just not very easy to carry, pull, open, use, or fit anything in. Going to get a 3 piece set when I get my money in October. A decent sized suitcase I can put my clothes in. Something big enough to hold boots and jackets and so forth. Also want pockets to separate things. And room to put like device chargers and adapters and such. Then need a carry-on that can hold my meds and the cushion I'll have to sit on and the likely breakable souvenirs I plan to buy before surgery at the comic shop in San Mateo and post-op at George Lucas ILM Studios.
Another thing that's worrying me is that it's starting to get harder and harder to focus on how happy I will be afterwards. And it's becoming easier and easier to focus on the surgery. Which of course makes me freak out and worry and panic. I know everything will be alright but thinking about the details of the surgery still horrifies me. I want it done but really don't want to know about it. Kinda wish I was less knowledgeable than I am sometimes. lol Just knowing the specifics of the operation makes me freak.
My one other big fear is that it's happening so fast I don't have a lot of time to get things done. I have been planning to get some pre-op pics taken but my friend is having issues getting in touch with the person to use the studio. This is a huge deal to me right now. I am so freaked out about going through surgery and having no record or anything of the past. Especially with such an awful memory. I'm scared of losing everything. I want something more than my failing memory. And I'm hoping to put together this book down the road. But if surgery comes and goes without these pics I'm screwed. I know my friend is trying all he can. But again, I worry a lot. And time is going so fast I'm in total panic mode about everything.
And on top of all this I haven't had time to hang out with a lot of my friends. I feel like I'm neglecting people. I know at least one of them that's already mad at me because of it. And I don't know what to do about it. There's just too much happening at once. My brain is spinning in my head. And my dad calls up to yell at me every day about going out anywhere. I told him I hardly did anything last week except stuff with him and my mom and he was still pissed that I went to game night last night. It's like seriously? I don't need this shit right now. Hell I could be dead in 24 days!
In the end all I can say is I'll be glad when all this is over. The stress, the aggravation, the worry, the fear, the headaches, the difficulties, the anticipation, the waiting, all of it. So close and so far. I just want it to all be over so I can relax for a minute and not have to worry about anything.
Monday, September 17, 2012
A Short Lonely Post
Fell asleep soon after that last blog post. And woke up later today feeling so strange. Watched some emotional videos on Youtube that clearly didn't help. Can't seem to shake this feeling and it's getting more intense. Really want a hug right now, or ideally someone to cuddle with. Just feel like I need to be held. Not sure what really brought this on or where it's coming from. Have this strange nagging feeling like something happened somewhere. I don't know what or where, can't help but feel crazy. Tried to call and/or text 4 different friends to talk and none of them are around so that didn't help a whole lot. It's weird because I feel happy, excited about being in the final month till surgery. But this random loneliness won't go away. Going to watch a movie and hope that breaks me out of it.
The Final Month!
Well, I'm almost there. After decades of no hope, decades of struggling, and a million hurdles. One month left. Yep, mind-blowing. One month or four weeks and two days or 30 days or a mind-blowingly short 720 hours. Have had 39 years like this yet as the date gets closer I feel a bit rushed for time. Part of me feels like I still have so much left to do to prepare. I'm still missing most of the medical supplies I'll need. And I am just not sure how comfortable the clothes I have will be after surgery. I feel like I need to buy so many things and not enough time or money. I feel like I still have so much to do but really there isn't much left. All the bills are paid. All the plans are made. That which needs scheduling is scheduled. All papers sent, everything filled out, auto-biography done, pics mailed, flight booked, hotel booked, hospital set up, surgeons set up, transportation set up. Surreal. It's all surreal. I feel like I'm going to wake up out of this foggy dream-like state and none of this will have happened. After all I've been through in my life it's hard for my brain to really grasp that this is happening. Seems too good to be true and you know how that usually works out.
Went through quite the emotional roller coaster this last month leading up to today. Didn't help that I had several other, non-transition related, very emotional things happen along the way. But I also had time to think and get away from it all in the middle there.
See, when I first got that call from Dr. Bowers that night at Flannigan's while eating with my parents, I freaked. It was unexpected. So soon. Felt like I had only just left her office! And then with my far too intense memory I was able to visualize myself going into surgery. One day, while at that point where you're asleep but not really. Where you have these vivid dreams you can't tell if it's real or not. And yet you are awake enough to actually control it if you know what you're doing. Well I was in that state. Visualized myself in the wheelchair being pushed into the operating room. With the IV in my arm, the heart monitor, hospital gown, those awful tight leg stocking things. Getting on the hard metal bed. Complaining that it hurts my back while I try to put a hair net on. Talking to the nurses and doctors nonstop because I'm so nervous. And then knowing they're about to knock me out. Seeing the anesthesiologist sit next to me and give me the "I'm going to give you something to relax first. Then I want you to start counting backwards from 100" speech. Knowing once I fall asleep, what I've had for 39.5 years will be gone, permanently, forever... Yeah total freak out even typing this right now. Makes my heart race, I feel faint, adrenaline rushing in my chest, horrific fear, mind rushing, scared that I'm making a huge mistake. Scared that something might go wrong. That I might never be able to have sex again. That I may have medical complications for the rest of my life. So many thoughts all at once, too much. Scariest thing EVER!
But time passed. And as long as I didn't visualize that, didn't think about it or dwell on it I was mostly ok. But then I had a few personal, very saddening things happen. And part of me wanted to just give up on life for a bit. I found myself losing motivation, losing control over my emotions, getting upset a lot, getting aggravated by everything and everyone. Found myself drinking a lot, more and more every day. Was starting to really feel crazy, spiraling out of control and couldn't figure out why. Then, I started to notice physical things. Hair was falling out by handfuls again! Morning erections. Random spontaneous erections. Unusually hot and sweaty all the time. Loss of breast sensitivity. Hostility, short temperedness. Couldn't think clearly about anything. Was making one bad decision or choice after the other. Crazy hungry all the time. Acne breakouts. I was a total wreck for a bit. Even my facial hair seemed to come back in thicker suddenly when it was almost totally gone a few weeks earlier.
It was somewhere around this point that I realized my hormones had to be screwed up. I'm surprised I even figured that out considering I could barely think straight enough to function. So I went to my endocrinologist. And yep, that was it. By a LOT. My previous visit my estrogen was 131 and my testosterone was 10. At this visit she told me my estrogen was 30 and my testosterone was 400+!!!! No wonder! Right? What an AWFUL feeling. Can't tell you how upset I was. So she doubled my oral estradiol and medroxyprogesterone. But right after her appointment I had one with my OB/GYN and he did not like how I described the way I was feeling. He said I needed help quick and that pills were going to take weeks. So he prescribed the injectable estrogen for a couple weeks. The irony of this is that this was the first time in my entire life that my hormones were at what is considered normal levels for a male my age. Before I started HRT my estrogen was 130 something and my testosterone was over 1200. So for the first time my body was operating like a normal male... And I HATED IT! It only helped to reaffirm how much I want surgery. Made me want to castrate myself! NO woman should EVER have to feel like that! Beyond torture, worst feeling I've ever felt.
Well, after some insurance difficulties I finally got the estrogen shot. Felt better almost immediately. By the next day I was calm and could think clearly again. My brain stopped racing in circles and I felt like I was under control again.
This coincided with the beginning of my 10 days of house sitting for friends. What an experience this was. I'll always be eternally grateful for them letting me house sit right then. I had a chance to go to the pool (which is something I have only recently felt comfortable doing again after 25 years without setting foot near one). I had time to meditate, to do yoga, to exercise, to relax. To confirm to myself that I am still capable of taking care of myself, pets and life on my own. The chance to taste freedom again. That feeling of being able to go out at 4a.m. if you want without having to come up with reasons or explanations. The ability to just walk around the house wearing whatever I want, or nothing. To decide what I want to do, when I want to eat, and to not have any of it be dependent on the actions of what someone else is doing (namely my mom). Of course, because my life can never be simple, Hurricane Isaac decided to hit us the last 3 days of my house sitting. While not awful, it did prevent me from continuing to go to the pool.
Well, during those last few days while the storm was passing over, I spent a lot of time laying on the couch watching the Weather Channel and just thinking. And then, while dozing off, mostly asleep, I had another one of my mind wandering visualizations. But this time not before surgery, not even waking up after. This time I saw myself years later. I could see myself happy, I could feel the difference, like I'm not hiding something. How different it will be to be able to say, yes, I'm a woman, without feeling like there's more I should be adding on to that. Without feeling like there's a "but" on the tip of my tongue. Being able to focus on other things finally without having to have my transition take up most of my life. Out talking and helping others. Living in my own place. Going out dating again. Going to the beach. All those things I either haven't been able to do, wasn't comfortable doing, or even when I did them felt like something was "off".
And I realized a lot thinking about that when I woke up. I realized how over these last decades I had given up so many times. I was resigned in the fact that I'd never be truly happy. That no matter how hard I tried to be that person, I still felt broken, disabled, poor, weak, beaten down, hopeless, alone, and not fully a woman. Even though I felt and thought of myself as one. I've always had that nagging feeling that even though I feel like it I'm not, cause there's that physical discrepancy there that no matter how hard I tried to hide I would always know it's still there.
But when I saw myself in the future. I didn't see a weak, pathetic, poor, disabled, unhappy, broken, alone, struggling, transwoman. I saw a strong, independent, healthy, happy, successful, woman surrounded by friends and loved ones. And for the first time I can remember in almost 40 years I feel like that's 100% achievable. That I really can be and will be the person I've always dreamt of being. And that thought blows my mind. It's still surreal. It's so amazing. I still feel like I'm asleep and scared to wake up. But I see hope, I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I see the future I've always wanted and I'm going in the right direction for once in my crazy life.
And so I became excited. Yeah, if I think through the details leading up to surgery I still get horrified and freak out. But I KNOW it's right. And as long as I can keep focused on that dream I'll be fine. I want it so bad I can't put it into words. I NEED this operation more than air at this point. And yes, I'd rather die on the table trying to be myself than live another second or 60 more years in this lie. This body was not supposed to be how it is. And it must be set right at any cost.
My biggest rational fear though has been not being able to have sex. Not being able to have an orgasm. I love sex. I've been told in therapy before that I have an addiction. But that the addiction to sex isn't the problem it's what you do about it. So I've come to accept this. And I'm ok now with the fact that I want to have sex with pretty much everyone all the time. It's not a bad thing. Just who I am. But the fear of losing that is scary as hell!
But I've talked to others. I've talked to friends. Other patients of Dr. Bowers. And not one of them is unhappy. Everyone is the happiest they've ever been. No one had problems or complications really. And they all say everything works perfectly. I've been told by post-op tranwomen that they've had six orgasms in an hour. And that it doesn't feel "that' different. The brain takes time for the nerves to reroute and stuff. Cause your brain will still be acknowledging things for what they were not what they are I guess. Like you think you're feeling this part of your body but it's not that anymore it's now this. Which makes sense. And I hear it takes awhile to relearn how to have sex, and how to go to the bathroom and shower and clean yourself and everything. Much like having brain damage. Have to relearn basic bodily functions. So now, the science geek in me has her curiosity peaked. I still think I'm more excited than anything. But curiosity is building as another strong motivating force. The whole thing fascinates me really.
So, am I scared? Hell yeah. Am I excited? Like a little kid on Christmas Eve. Like a teenage girl at an Elvis concert in the late 1950s. So excited I can barely stand it. Am I curious? Very much so. And am glad there will be pics and video before, during and after because it's all pretty amazing.
What now??? Wait... The thing I'm probably worst at yet most used to doing. No more bumming cigs off friends, no more alcohol at all, increasing vitamin intake (especially vitamin C), continuing to eat healthier and exercise more. And continue to wait... One month... four weeks and two days... 30 days... 720 hours... Tick Tock... Tick... Tock...
Went through quite the emotional roller coaster this last month leading up to today. Didn't help that I had several other, non-transition related, very emotional things happen along the way. But I also had time to think and get away from it all in the middle there.
See, when I first got that call from Dr. Bowers that night at Flannigan's while eating with my parents, I freaked. It was unexpected. So soon. Felt like I had only just left her office! And then with my far too intense memory I was able to visualize myself going into surgery. One day, while at that point where you're asleep but not really. Where you have these vivid dreams you can't tell if it's real or not. And yet you are awake enough to actually control it if you know what you're doing. Well I was in that state. Visualized myself in the wheelchair being pushed into the operating room. With the IV in my arm, the heart monitor, hospital gown, those awful tight leg stocking things. Getting on the hard metal bed. Complaining that it hurts my back while I try to put a hair net on. Talking to the nurses and doctors nonstop because I'm so nervous. And then knowing they're about to knock me out. Seeing the anesthesiologist sit next to me and give me the "I'm going to give you something to relax first. Then I want you to start counting backwards from 100" speech. Knowing once I fall asleep, what I've had for 39.5 years will be gone, permanently, forever... Yeah total freak out even typing this right now. Makes my heart race, I feel faint, adrenaline rushing in my chest, horrific fear, mind rushing, scared that I'm making a huge mistake. Scared that something might go wrong. That I might never be able to have sex again. That I may have medical complications for the rest of my life. So many thoughts all at once, too much. Scariest thing EVER!
But time passed. And as long as I didn't visualize that, didn't think about it or dwell on it I was mostly ok. But then I had a few personal, very saddening things happen. And part of me wanted to just give up on life for a bit. I found myself losing motivation, losing control over my emotions, getting upset a lot, getting aggravated by everything and everyone. Found myself drinking a lot, more and more every day. Was starting to really feel crazy, spiraling out of control and couldn't figure out why. Then, I started to notice physical things. Hair was falling out by handfuls again! Morning erections. Random spontaneous erections. Unusually hot and sweaty all the time. Loss of breast sensitivity. Hostility, short temperedness. Couldn't think clearly about anything. Was making one bad decision or choice after the other. Crazy hungry all the time. Acne breakouts. I was a total wreck for a bit. Even my facial hair seemed to come back in thicker suddenly when it was almost totally gone a few weeks earlier.
It was somewhere around this point that I realized my hormones had to be screwed up. I'm surprised I even figured that out considering I could barely think straight enough to function. So I went to my endocrinologist. And yep, that was it. By a LOT. My previous visit my estrogen was 131 and my testosterone was 10. At this visit she told me my estrogen was 30 and my testosterone was 400+!!!! No wonder! Right? What an AWFUL feeling. Can't tell you how upset I was. So she doubled my oral estradiol and medroxyprogesterone. But right after her appointment I had one with my OB/GYN and he did not like how I described the way I was feeling. He said I needed help quick and that pills were going to take weeks. So he prescribed the injectable estrogen for a couple weeks. The irony of this is that this was the first time in my entire life that my hormones were at what is considered normal levels for a male my age. Before I started HRT my estrogen was 130 something and my testosterone was over 1200. So for the first time my body was operating like a normal male... And I HATED IT! It only helped to reaffirm how much I want surgery. Made me want to castrate myself! NO woman should EVER have to feel like that! Beyond torture, worst feeling I've ever felt.
Well, after some insurance difficulties I finally got the estrogen shot. Felt better almost immediately. By the next day I was calm and could think clearly again. My brain stopped racing in circles and I felt like I was under control again.
This coincided with the beginning of my 10 days of house sitting for friends. What an experience this was. I'll always be eternally grateful for them letting me house sit right then. I had a chance to go to the pool (which is something I have only recently felt comfortable doing again after 25 years without setting foot near one). I had time to meditate, to do yoga, to exercise, to relax. To confirm to myself that I am still capable of taking care of myself, pets and life on my own. The chance to taste freedom again. That feeling of being able to go out at 4a.m. if you want without having to come up with reasons or explanations. The ability to just walk around the house wearing whatever I want, or nothing. To decide what I want to do, when I want to eat, and to not have any of it be dependent on the actions of what someone else is doing (namely my mom). Of course, because my life can never be simple, Hurricane Isaac decided to hit us the last 3 days of my house sitting. While not awful, it did prevent me from continuing to go to the pool.
Well, during those last few days while the storm was passing over, I spent a lot of time laying on the couch watching the Weather Channel and just thinking. And then, while dozing off, mostly asleep, I had another one of my mind wandering visualizations. But this time not before surgery, not even waking up after. This time I saw myself years later. I could see myself happy, I could feel the difference, like I'm not hiding something. How different it will be to be able to say, yes, I'm a woman, without feeling like there's more I should be adding on to that. Without feeling like there's a "but" on the tip of my tongue. Being able to focus on other things finally without having to have my transition take up most of my life. Out talking and helping others. Living in my own place. Going out dating again. Going to the beach. All those things I either haven't been able to do, wasn't comfortable doing, or even when I did them felt like something was "off".
And I realized a lot thinking about that when I woke up. I realized how over these last decades I had given up so many times. I was resigned in the fact that I'd never be truly happy. That no matter how hard I tried to be that person, I still felt broken, disabled, poor, weak, beaten down, hopeless, alone, and not fully a woman. Even though I felt and thought of myself as one. I've always had that nagging feeling that even though I feel like it I'm not, cause there's that physical discrepancy there that no matter how hard I tried to hide I would always know it's still there.
But when I saw myself in the future. I didn't see a weak, pathetic, poor, disabled, unhappy, broken, alone, struggling, transwoman. I saw a strong, independent, healthy, happy, successful, woman surrounded by friends and loved ones. And for the first time I can remember in almost 40 years I feel like that's 100% achievable. That I really can be and will be the person I've always dreamt of being. And that thought blows my mind. It's still surreal. It's so amazing. I still feel like I'm asleep and scared to wake up. But I see hope, I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I see the future I've always wanted and I'm going in the right direction for once in my crazy life.
And so I became excited. Yeah, if I think through the details leading up to surgery I still get horrified and freak out. But I KNOW it's right. And as long as I can keep focused on that dream I'll be fine. I want it so bad I can't put it into words. I NEED this operation more than air at this point. And yes, I'd rather die on the table trying to be myself than live another second or 60 more years in this lie. This body was not supposed to be how it is. And it must be set right at any cost.
My biggest rational fear though has been not being able to have sex. Not being able to have an orgasm. I love sex. I've been told in therapy before that I have an addiction. But that the addiction to sex isn't the problem it's what you do about it. So I've come to accept this. And I'm ok now with the fact that I want to have sex with pretty much everyone all the time. It's not a bad thing. Just who I am. But the fear of losing that is scary as hell!
But I've talked to others. I've talked to friends. Other patients of Dr. Bowers. And not one of them is unhappy. Everyone is the happiest they've ever been. No one had problems or complications really. And they all say everything works perfectly. I've been told by post-op tranwomen that they've had six orgasms in an hour. And that it doesn't feel "that' different. The brain takes time for the nerves to reroute and stuff. Cause your brain will still be acknowledging things for what they were not what they are I guess. Like you think you're feeling this part of your body but it's not that anymore it's now this. Which makes sense. And I hear it takes awhile to relearn how to have sex, and how to go to the bathroom and shower and clean yourself and everything. Much like having brain damage. Have to relearn basic bodily functions. So now, the science geek in me has her curiosity peaked. I still think I'm more excited than anything. But curiosity is building as another strong motivating force. The whole thing fascinates me really.
So, am I scared? Hell yeah. Am I excited? Like a little kid on Christmas Eve. Like a teenage girl at an Elvis concert in the late 1950s. So excited I can barely stand it. Am I curious? Very much so. And am glad there will be pics and video before, during and after because it's all pretty amazing.
What now??? Wait... The thing I'm probably worst at yet most used to doing. No more bumming cigs off friends, no more alcohol at all, increasing vitamin intake (especially vitamin C), continuing to eat healthier and exercise more. And continue to wait... One month... four weeks and two days... 30 days... 720 hours... Tick Tock... Tick... Tock...
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
New Insight Into the Mystery That Is My Mom
Tonight I figured something out! While I was driving home in the rain and lightning, listening to music, thinking about how happy I am now about my upcoming surgery, and how much my face still hurts from laser removal earlier in the day. I had a bit of a revelation about my mom.
While my mom has been pretty crazy and unpredictable for the greater part of the last two decades, it's only been since I started my medical transition (i.e. HRT, therapy, laser, etc.) that she's really been out of control to the point of being nearly impossible to live with. I mean she was already being impossible to live with before. But I didn't use to feel like she was directly attacking my gender and orientation all the time like now.
For 17 or 18 years now my mom has known about everything and seemingly supported me. But last July began the real nightmare. At first she was like, "You did what?" when she found out I had started HRT. Then it was non-stop just telling me how this is going to hurt me physically and make me sick. Which we all know the reality is the exact opposite, that this will make me happier and healthier.
From there she's gone on to try and thwart my every move. She's randomly insulted all my friends for either being trans or being whatever orientation or for just supporting me at all. She's refused to go to any support group, therapy, or education with me. She won't even hear me speak! She's constantly making assumptions about me, my life, and the world around me.
For over a year now I've been asking myself, "Where is this coming from?" "What changed to cause this?" "What did I do wrong?" "Why won't she even try to understand anymore?" "Why does she hate me now?" "Was she abducted by aliens?" All the usual questions.
She tried to stop me from getting my legal paperwork done. Kept trying to convince me I'd lose my disability or insurance or whatever. She tries to make it sound like everyone is trying to use me for something because I was raised and taught by her my whole life to never volunteer for anything.
Over the last couple months, since July 2012 when I had my surgical consultation and set up my date for GRS she's been acting crazier than ever. One minute she's telling me she doesn't care what happens to me and she prays to God that I die during surgery. She'll tell me she's going to burn down the house. That she's going to drive off the side of the expressway ramp. Offers me her gone telling me to just shoot myself. So many horrific things. Now while she's done that before. It was never like this.
Then out of the blue she'll be all nice again, start telling me she loves me and cares and is worried. And usually follows that up immediately by asking me to do something for her. And I hadn't made the connection here. This was one of the things that once I connected the pieces I realized was related to her craziness. The things she's been needing help with. Going to court to get her accident stuff done "before I go to California"... I was like why does this matter? She needed me to help her fix the washing machine that was jammed by lint and crap in the exhaust area under the middle hub dohickey. She needed me to fix 3 overhead light fixtures. Had me update her old resume and fix it so she had 3 different ones. She had me help her jump start the other car. Helped her fill out tons of job applications. Just a lot of what seemed like random stuff.
But it's not! They are not things she was confused over. Not things she just "needed help with." There are all very specific things that she either would not or could not do on her own... And then I remembered what she said about she knows I'm going to kill myself by having this surgery. Not that she's worried it might go wrong. Not that she thinks I'm going actually kill myself. But that she thinks my having the surgery will be what kills me.
*LIGHT BULB ON*
She thinks I'm going to die. Not a worry. But she really believes I'm going to die either in surgery or recovery. She was there for my 13 surgeries from Crohn's Disease and Crohn's related conditions. She was there when I code blued three times. She knows what a rough time I've had in recovery. That's what it is. The good, bad and ugly of what she's been doing over the last year is cause she's convinced I'm going to die.
Why this makes sense?
She's getting all the things done she will need to survive on her own without me. All the things she can't do on her own. She's trying to make herself hate me so as to distance her from the pain of my death she's expecting. The she snaps and realizes she does care every now and then and feels guilty. She's given up trying to stop me the last couple months and she's preparing herself for my death.
Now, at first glance this seems awful and sad and like oh wow, what a shame and all that right? But no! This is actually GREAT! Because you know what that means? It means once I'm done with surgery and I don't die and go on to be happy she has no reason to be all pissed anymore. No reason to be scared. No reason to hate.
It seems so obvious to me now knowing her as I do. I feel awful for her going through this but she doesn't have to be so I don't feel in anyway responsible. I mean she could have chosen to deal with it like my dad has. But she's chosen to freak out and convince herself I'm going to die. And since she refuses to go to any classes or groups or therapists or to even read a book or a website, she will not ever understand it. At least not before surgery. Maybe afterwards when I live and she calms down a bit I may actually be able to get her to go to a class or something. I myself feel better though now that this whole puzzle has been made clear.
I think when surgery is done and I'm happy I'll just be nice about it. My initial response is going to be me wanting to be all obnoxious about it and all like, "I told you so!" But I think I'll just be happy and let it go like everything else pre-op. Just start fresh and move forward with her hopefully being a bit less crazy and negative about my life. And yes, I am very convinced I'm right about this whole thing. lol
35 days left...
While my mom has been pretty crazy and unpredictable for the greater part of the last two decades, it's only been since I started my medical transition (i.e. HRT, therapy, laser, etc.) that she's really been out of control to the point of being nearly impossible to live with. I mean she was already being impossible to live with before. But I didn't use to feel like she was directly attacking my gender and orientation all the time like now.
For 17 or 18 years now my mom has known about everything and seemingly supported me. But last July began the real nightmare. At first she was like, "You did what?" when she found out I had started HRT. Then it was non-stop just telling me how this is going to hurt me physically and make me sick. Which we all know the reality is the exact opposite, that this will make me happier and healthier.
From there she's gone on to try and thwart my every move. She's randomly insulted all my friends for either being trans or being whatever orientation or for just supporting me at all. She's refused to go to any support group, therapy, or education with me. She won't even hear me speak! She's constantly making assumptions about me, my life, and the world around me.
For over a year now I've been asking myself, "Where is this coming from?" "What changed to cause this?" "What did I do wrong?" "Why won't she even try to understand anymore?" "Why does she hate me now?" "Was she abducted by aliens?" All the usual questions.
She tried to stop me from getting my legal paperwork done. Kept trying to convince me I'd lose my disability or insurance or whatever. She tries to make it sound like everyone is trying to use me for something because I was raised and taught by her my whole life to never volunteer for anything.
Over the last couple months, since July 2012 when I had my surgical consultation and set up my date for GRS she's been acting crazier than ever. One minute she's telling me she doesn't care what happens to me and she prays to God that I die during surgery. She'll tell me she's going to burn down the house. That she's going to drive off the side of the expressway ramp. Offers me her gone telling me to just shoot myself. So many horrific things. Now while she's done that before. It was never like this.
Then out of the blue she'll be all nice again, start telling me she loves me and cares and is worried. And usually follows that up immediately by asking me to do something for her. And I hadn't made the connection here. This was one of the things that once I connected the pieces I realized was related to her craziness. The things she's been needing help with. Going to court to get her accident stuff done "before I go to California"... I was like why does this matter? She needed me to help her fix the washing machine that was jammed by lint and crap in the exhaust area under the middle hub dohickey. She needed me to fix 3 overhead light fixtures. Had me update her old resume and fix it so she had 3 different ones. She had me help her jump start the other car. Helped her fill out tons of job applications. Just a lot of what seemed like random stuff.
But it's not! They are not things she was confused over. Not things she just "needed help with." There are all very specific things that she either would not or could not do on her own... And then I remembered what she said about she knows I'm going to kill myself by having this surgery. Not that she's worried it might go wrong. Not that she thinks I'm going actually kill myself. But that she thinks my having the surgery will be what kills me.
*LIGHT BULB ON*
She thinks I'm going to die. Not a worry. But she really believes I'm going to die either in surgery or recovery. She was there for my 13 surgeries from Crohn's Disease and Crohn's related conditions. She was there when I code blued three times. She knows what a rough time I've had in recovery. That's what it is. The good, bad and ugly of what she's been doing over the last year is cause she's convinced I'm going to die.
Why this makes sense?
She's getting all the things done she will need to survive on her own without me. All the things she can't do on her own. She's trying to make herself hate me so as to distance her from the pain of my death she's expecting. The she snaps and realizes she does care every now and then and feels guilty. She's given up trying to stop me the last couple months and she's preparing herself for my death.
Now, at first glance this seems awful and sad and like oh wow, what a shame and all that right? But no! This is actually GREAT! Because you know what that means? It means once I'm done with surgery and I don't die and go on to be happy she has no reason to be all pissed anymore. No reason to be scared. No reason to hate.
It seems so obvious to me now knowing her as I do. I feel awful for her going through this but she doesn't have to be so I don't feel in anyway responsible. I mean she could have chosen to deal with it like my dad has. But she's chosen to freak out and convince herself I'm going to die. And since she refuses to go to any classes or groups or therapists or to even read a book or a website, she will not ever understand it. At least not before surgery. Maybe afterwards when I live and she calms down a bit I may actually be able to get her to go to a class or something. I myself feel better though now that this whole puzzle has been made clear.
I think when surgery is done and I'm happy I'll just be nice about it. My initial response is going to be me wanting to be all obnoxious about it and all like, "I told you so!" But I think I'll just be happy and let it go like everything else pre-op. Just start fresh and move forward with her hopefully being a bit less crazy and negative about my life. And yes, I am very convinced I'm right about this whole thing. lol
35 days left...
Monday, August 13, 2012
I Found My Peace of Mind! . . . In Porn!
That's right, porn damnit! roflmao
Many times over the years I've searched for "post-op" transwoman porn. And only ever found pre-op or no-op shemale tranny porn. (which I HATE those words btw, they're derogatory and hurtful, but have to use them to explain what people call that) I've read plenty of patient comments and testimonials. I've seen countless post-op pics. But none of it made me feel truly comfortable about the surgery results.
Then last night when I couldn't sleep I stumbled upon something. On a transforum there was a topic, with a link, to a page, with a link, to a page, and so on. Eventually I came across a site with porn from actual, normal, post-op, transwomen. I was for the first time ever able to see other transwomen, after surgery, masturbating and having sex. And having orgasms, and enjoying it.
I think my first reaction was surprise. Even after all the pics and crap I've seen. I was surprised how normal everything looked and worked. It not only put me at ease, but made me very anxious and excited!
I had thought my fear was coming from the thought of not having parts I've had for so long. But now I realize it has nothing to do with the parts. My fear was the fear of not being able to have an orgasm again. And considering I'm horny 24/7, masturbate several times a day, and have a therapist that's been tossing around the phrase "sex addict" despite my 15 years of no sex, the thought of not being able to have an orgasm is horrific.
The irony of this is that my parts have been slowly shutting down and not working as well as they once did the last few months. This is of course from the HRT. So, in other words, things will actually work BETTER after surgery than they do now!
So I was worried? Worried about losing something that isn't working fully anymore? In exchange for something that will work great? Am I insane? I should be nothing but ecstatic like I am right now at the thought of it! Excited, anxious, impatient, and very much ready for surgery! Heck, I can't wait! This is going to be awesome! Dream come true, for real! *happy dance*
Somehow, it all seems oddly fitting that my peace of mind would come from porn of all things. LOL
Many times over the years I've searched for "post-op" transwoman porn. And only ever found pre-op or no-op shemale tranny porn. (which I HATE those words btw, they're derogatory and hurtful, but have to use them to explain what people call that) I've read plenty of patient comments and testimonials. I've seen countless post-op pics. But none of it made me feel truly comfortable about the surgery results.
Then last night when I couldn't sleep I stumbled upon something. On a transforum there was a topic, with a link, to a page, with a link, to a page, and so on. Eventually I came across a site with porn from actual, normal, post-op, transwomen. I was for the first time ever able to see other transwomen, after surgery, masturbating and having sex. And having orgasms, and enjoying it.
I think my first reaction was surprise. Even after all the pics and crap I've seen. I was surprised how normal everything looked and worked. It not only put me at ease, but made me very anxious and excited!
I had thought my fear was coming from the thought of not having parts I've had for so long. But now I realize it has nothing to do with the parts. My fear was the fear of not being able to have an orgasm again. And considering I'm horny 24/7, masturbate several times a day, and have a therapist that's been tossing around the phrase "sex addict" despite my 15 years of no sex, the thought of not being able to have an orgasm is horrific.
The irony of this is that my parts have been slowly shutting down and not working as well as they once did the last few months. This is of course from the HRT. So, in other words, things will actually work BETTER after surgery than they do now!
So I was worried? Worried about losing something that isn't working fully anymore? In exchange for something that will work great? Am I insane? I should be nothing but ecstatic like I am right now at the thought of it! Excited, anxious, impatient, and very much ready for surgery! Heck, I can't wait! This is going to be awesome! Dream come true, for real! *happy dance*
Somehow, it all seems oddly fitting that my peace of mind would come from porn of all things. LOL
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Of All the Thoughts I've Had. This is a New One.
Have gone through a relentless rollercoaster of emotions the last few days. Excited, happy, sad, scared, horrified, lonely, anxious, worried, stressed, frustrated, overwhelmed, ecstatic, and many more.
And then out of the blue I had a different thought. I thought of that person that had to cancel their surgery date making it possible for me to get in earlier. That poor person...
I know nothing about them. No idea of age, race, gender identity or what they were going to have done. But odds are like myself and so many others, they went through many obstacles, many challenges, and many years of hell. To get so close and then not be able to go through with it. It's heartbreaking.
Here I am worried about the end result. Unfounded, irrational fears. No matter what anyone else says. Everyone I talk to is super happy. Happier than they thought they'd be. And here I am being afraid of what I've always wanted when I'm so close and so lucky to even have this chance.
I actually feel bad about feeling bad now. I feel bad about having doubts or fears. Someone somewhere is probably devastated having had their chance slip away for now.
I can only hope that it was a person decision of theirs. That they changed their mind freely or had it done elsewhere. I would feel worse knowing it was financial, or family, or health, or some other thing that stopped them right at the end.
Whoever you are, wherever you are, my heart goes out to you. And I thank you for allowing me the opportunity to get this over with sooner rather than later. I should be thankful how lucky I am and not so scared without cause or reason.
And then out of the blue I had a different thought. I thought of that person that had to cancel their surgery date making it possible for me to get in earlier. That poor person...
I know nothing about them. No idea of age, race, gender identity or what they were going to have done. But odds are like myself and so many others, they went through many obstacles, many challenges, and many years of hell. To get so close and then not be able to go through with it. It's heartbreaking.
Here I am worried about the end result. Unfounded, irrational fears. No matter what anyone else says. Everyone I talk to is super happy. Happier than they thought they'd be. And here I am being afraid of what I've always wanted when I'm so close and so lucky to even have this chance.
I actually feel bad about feeling bad now. I feel bad about having doubts or fears. Someone somewhere is probably devastated having had their chance slip away for now.
I can only hope that it was a person decision of theirs. That they changed their mind freely or had it done elsewhere. I would feel worse knowing it was financial, or family, or health, or some other thing that stopped them right at the end.
Whoever you are, wherever you are, my heart goes out to you. And I thank you for allowing me the opportunity to get this over with sooner rather than later. I should be thankful how lucky I am and not so scared without cause or reason.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
287 Days... Err 70 Days Left! Whoa!
Well, so my mind is blown yet again. So here's the setting. Eating dinner with my parents, about 5:00 p.m. EST. We're at a local restaurant chain called Flanigan's. We've all eaten way too much. And we were going through pitchers of Yuengling. I got my mom hooked on Yuengling about a month ago, kinda funny. I had this amazing burger worthy of a brief digression. Texas burger. had so much stuff on it I can't even remember. It had swiss cheese melted and chunks of bleu cheese, bacon, onion rings, lettuce, tomato, who knows what else. Anyhow, so my phone vibrates in my purse next to me. After a few minutes of being lazy I finally check thinking it was a text from one of my friends. Had a missed call, Dr. Marci Bowers. *this is the part where my brain exploded because I knew there was only one reason they would be calling me...*
And so BAM there is was. THE call. I've been saying, "she could call any time." I guess in my heart I partially didn't think there would end up being a cancellation. And even if there was I figured it would be get a call in October or November to come in late December. We haven't even been back a month yet.
So, my dad tells me to call her back. Like no kidding. So I called. Got Robin, who works in the Trinidad, Colorado office and handles all the scheduling, phone calls, apparently all the paperwork and everything. Poor woman must be overworked. She's the only person I've even dealt with the entire time so far. And so she confirmed my assumption that there was a cancellation. And she asked if October 17th was ok. I didn't even know how to respond. My dad was also at a loss for what to say. We clearly were not prepared for that call. I asked her if it was ok to call her back tomorrow. She said yes and that she'd pencil me in tentatively for that day.
Many hours of arguing took place at this point. Me, I was still mind blown over the fact that this was happening so soon just like that. Started having so many different thoughts and emotions, good, bad and indifferent. Was and frankly still am feeling EVERY emotion. Happy, sad, mad, giddy, shocked, scared, excited, anxious, overwhelmed, and a million others all at once. In the end my dad agreed we should keep the October date and just get it over with. I want to be done with this too of course. And closer means less time to worry. Why drag it out longer, right?
Tomorrow I will call Robin and tell her yes. She will then send me the infamous packet that explains what to do, what to bring, payment, just all the details about everything. And I have a few questions. My dad wants to talk to her as well, but for stupid reasons. He wants hotel and car rental suggestions and stuff. I'm like seriously that THIS is what you're worried about? Priorities dad, for real.
My brain still hasn't fully processed it all. Have so many emotions, thoughts, ideas, questions.
Intense.
---UPDATE---
It's the next day. I called. Gender Reaffirming Surgery is confirmed with Dr. Marci L. Bowers in San Mateo, California for October 17th, 2012. And they're contacting Dr. Beck that works with her to see if he's free that day to do breast augmentation at the same time. They said probably. The information packet will be sent out either today or in the next day and I should get it by next week.
All those nights of falling asleep and having dreams where I already had all the right parts. Only to wake up and find myself still in this body. All those years wishing I'd go to sleep and wake up different. And as a friend just told me, that's exactly what's going to happen. On Oct. 17th, I'm going to go to sleep, probably very hungry and with watery diarrhea from the prep, and likely in pain as I know from past surgeries my bad lower back does NOT agree with those flat hard metal surgical tables. And then I'm going to wake up, in pain, all doped up on pain meds that likely won't be strong enough, but with boobs 1 to 2 cup sizes bigger, and female bottom parts. Just like that. The many hours of hard work and surgery they do will be nothing to me. To me, from my point of view, it will be exactly like I always hoped. I'll go to sleep and wake up from that dream but this time the dream won't end when I awaken. :-)
And so BAM there is was. THE call. I've been saying, "she could call any time." I guess in my heart I partially didn't think there would end up being a cancellation. And even if there was I figured it would be get a call in October or November to come in late December. We haven't even been back a month yet.
So, my dad tells me to call her back. Like no kidding. So I called. Got Robin, who works in the Trinidad, Colorado office and handles all the scheduling, phone calls, apparently all the paperwork and everything. Poor woman must be overworked. She's the only person I've even dealt with the entire time so far. And so she confirmed my assumption that there was a cancellation. And she asked if October 17th was ok. I didn't even know how to respond. My dad was also at a loss for what to say. We clearly were not prepared for that call. I asked her if it was ok to call her back tomorrow. She said yes and that she'd pencil me in tentatively for that day.
Many hours of arguing took place at this point. Me, I was still mind blown over the fact that this was happening so soon just like that. Started having so many different thoughts and emotions, good, bad and indifferent. Was and frankly still am feeling EVERY emotion. Happy, sad, mad, giddy, shocked, scared, excited, anxious, overwhelmed, and a million others all at once. In the end my dad agreed we should keep the October date and just get it over with. I want to be done with this too of course. And closer means less time to worry. Why drag it out longer, right?
Tomorrow I will call Robin and tell her yes. She will then send me the infamous packet that explains what to do, what to bring, payment, just all the details about everything. And I have a few questions. My dad wants to talk to her as well, but for stupid reasons. He wants hotel and car rental suggestions and stuff. I'm like seriously that THIS is what you're worried about? Priorities dad, for real.
My brain still hasn't fully processed it all. Have so many emotions, thoughts, ideas, questions.
Intense.
---UPDATE---
It's the next day. I called. Gender Reaffirming Surgery is confirmed with Dr. Marci L. Bowers in San Mateo, California for October 17th, 2012. And they're contacting Dr. Beck that works with her to see if he's free that day to do breast augmentation at the same time. They said probably. The information packet will be sent out either today or in the next day and I should get it by next week.
All those nights of falling asleep and having dreams where I already had all the right parts. Only to wake up and find myself still in this body. All those years wishing I'd go to sleep and wake up different. And as a friend just told me, that's exactly what's going to happen. On Oct. 17th, I'm going to go to sleep, probably very hungry and with watery diarrhea from the prep, and likely in pain as I know from past surgeries my bad lower back does NOT agree with those flat hard metal surgical tables. And then I'm going to wake up, in pain, all doped up on pain meds that likely won't be strong enough, but with boobs 1 to 2 cup sizes bigger, and female bottom parts. Just like that. The many hours of hard work and surgery they do will be nothing to me. To me, from my point of view, it will be exactly like I always hoped. I'll go to sleep and wake up from that dream but this time the dream won't end when I awaken. :-)
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
"So What Makes You Happy?"
A couple months back, think it's been close to three months now, a friend of mine asked me this question. "So what makes you happy?" Seems simple enough right? But not so much when you're depressed and confused. I mean there's stuff I like but is that what truly makes me happy? I had no real answer. After giving it some thought I spouted out some generic nonsense that seemed right at the time.
Days later I had thought I had figured it out. But again I was really just guessing. I wasn't honestly sure what I like or what makes me really happy anymore. Over the years the things that have made me happy have gone from cartoons, to games, to drugs, to money, to specific people or places. It's been varied enough to leave me unsure about what it is that makes me truly happy.
Well a lot has happened since then. A lot of amazingly good and amazingly bad. And then last weekend I woke up in a strange mood one day and was again asked that same question by the same people. I had a better idea this time, but sort of laughed it off and let it go because some of the things that make me happy seemed like I shouldn't admit to them.
Today I got to see a psychiatrist to get my surgical clearance letter. And then my therapist a few hours later. I talked about a lot. Thought about a lot. And realized when recapping my life story for the millionth time what really matters. What things make me really happy. That kind of happy that you want all the time and can't live without. And I feel embarrassed admitting to some of this. But these are the things that make me happy. These are the things that always bring a smile to my face. The things that I love the most. The things that make me who I am.
So, what makes me happy? Here's my top 15 in order:
So there's my answer finally. Will this list be the same in a year? I don't know. Will it be the same when I wake up tomorrow? Don't know that either. What I do know? It's accurate right now as I am typing this. :-)
Days later I had thought I had figured it out. But again I was really just guessing. I wasn't honestly sure what I like or what makes me really happy anymore. Over the years the things that have made me happy have gone from cartoons, to games, to drugs, to money, to specific people or places. It's been varied enough to leave me unsure about what it is that makes me truly happy.
Well a lot has happened since then. A lot of amazingly good and amazingly bad. And then last weekend I woke up in a strange mood one day and was again asked that same question by the same people. I had a better idea this time, but sort of laughed it off and let it go because some of the things that make me happy seemed like I shouldn't admit to them.
Today I got to see a psychiatrist to get my surgical clearance letter. And then my therapist a few hours later. I talked about a lot. Thought about a lot. And realized when recapping my life story for the millionth time what really matters. What things make me really happy. That kind of happy that you want all the time and can't live without. And I feel embarrassed admitting to some of this. But these are the things that make me happy. These are the things that always bring a smile to my face. The things that I love the most. The things that make me who I am.
So, what makes me happy? Here's my top 15 in order:
- Friends
- Love
- Cuddling
- Chocolate Milk
- Sex
- Music
- Stupid Humour
- Helping Others
- Marijuana
- Dancing
- My Cats
- Beer
- Games
- Looking Good (and being able to be myself)
- Figuring Things Out
So there's my answer finally. Will this list be the same in a year? I don't know. Will it be the same when I wake up tomorrow? Don't know that either. What I do know? It's accurate right now as I am typing this. :-)
Let's Just Talk About Sex For A Minute...
I had another post 3/4 done but right now I feel like talking about something else. Sex. Cause that's what's on my mind right now. I'm sure any of my closest friends reading this right now are thinking "what else is new." lol But I'm having specific thoughts and I felt like rambling and sharing them.
So, sex, obviously a fairly significant concern when going through GRS (gender reaffirming surgery). It's not like I'm 15 and never had sex. I've had a LOT of sex in my life. With men, with women, multiple people, and all sorts of crazy stuff. And I am not gonna lie here, I love sex. Like too much. Like I've never been able to get enough. And back in the mid to late 90s when I was a hardcore crack addict I had sex for drugs. That combined with my last serious relationship at that time falling apart all led me to a point where I basically stopped having sex totally. For somewhere around 15 years I went without. Didn't even want a relationship. Thought I was fine me and my cats. But I wasn't. More recently, a variety of things in my life changed. And along the way I ended up having sex again, more than a few times. And what I have once again realized is that I really, really love it. My testosterone is down to 10 and I'm still horny 24/7. It's apparently just part of who I am.
So now we get to where things get weird. Cause surgery, obviously going to change a few things. During that freak out I talked about in a previous post, this was one of the many thoughts I had. Cause I am scared about what if my new parts don't work. And in fact I was at such a freak out point that I was horrified at the thought of losing something I obviously love doing quite a bit. And even though I know the success rates and how this operation works. And I know everything will be fine and the new parts will work great. But still, will I like having sex then as much as I do now? How will things change?
Well, I've been thinking about this frequently. And at first I took into consideration the facts. First of which is I want this operation more than anything in the world. I NEED this operation. It's all I ever wanted and none of that has changed. Fear is irrelevant in this aspect. Because I AM going to do this. So that made me think about things differently again. Because I realized I can't dwell on what I'm losing. That might as well already be the past. And so I started really focusing on and thinking about what I will have.
And so I have been thinking about that. I've always imagined what it would be like. I've always fantasized that I already had parts I don't. But since having the surgery date set up I've just been so freaked about losing what I have that I wasn't thinking clearly about it anymore.
This is where this story gets hard to blog about. Because I can't put into words the feelings I've had. I'm not sure there are words to explain it. The very thought of post-op sex makes me light-headed and faint (in a good way). It's beyond a dream. It's like it's "too" perfect if that makes sense. It's like everything I've dreamt of and fantasized about and hoped for someday all made into a reality. And thanks to being an empath and having an awesome imagination I can really envision what it will be like. And, this is the part where there are no words. The very thought is... overwhelming... amazing... beyond words.
And just to clarify, this is no way implies penetration or me specifically being with someone with a penis. Just to throw that out there. I'm just talking about anyone, male, female, both, neither, trans, whatever, doing anything with what I will have. ALL of those various thoughts. It's... again, no proper word to put here. I wish I had a way to make others understand this feeling. I can't help but think that if people who aren't trans and don't understand transgender could understand the thoughts and feelings I'm having right now it would change the world. (not to sound full of myself, but you just don't know if you haven't been where I'm at in my life). It's intense.
So that's just some thoughts and feelings I'm having about sex post-op. Felt like rambling on a bit about that one. :-)
So, sex, obviously a fairly significant concern when going through GRS (gender reaffirming surgery). It's not like I'm 15 and never had sex. I've had a LOT of sex in my life. With men, with women, multiple people, and all sorts of crazy stuff. And I am not gonna lie here, I love sex. Like too much. Like I've never been able to get enough. And back in the mid to late 90s when I was a hardcore crack addict I had sex for drugs. That combined with my last serious relationship at that time falling apart all led me to a point where I basically stopped having sex totally. For somewhere around 15 years I went without. Didn't even want a relationship. Thought I was fine me and my cats. But I wasn't. More recently, a variety of things in my life changed. And along the way I ended up having sex again, more than a few times. And what I have once again realized is that I really, really love it. My testosterone is down to 10 and I'm still horny 24/7. It's apparently just part of who I am.
So now we get to where things get weird. Cause surgery, obviously going to change a few things. During that freak out I talked about in a previous post, this was one of the many thoughts I had. Cause I am scared about what if my new parts don't work. And in fact I was at such a freak out point that I was horrified at the thought of losing something I obviously love doing quite a bit. And even though I know the success rates and how this operation works. And I know everything will be fine and the new parts will work great. But still, will I like having sex then as much as I do now? How will things change?
Well, I've been thinking about this frequently. And at first I took into consideration the facts. First of which is I want this operation more than anything in the world. I NEED this operation. It's all I ever wanted and none of that has changed. Fear is irrelevant in this aspect. Because I AM going to do this. So that made me think about things differently again. Because I realized I can't dwell on what I'm losing. That might as well already be the past. And so I started really focusing on and thinking about what I will have.
And so I have been thinking about that. I've always imagined what it would be like. I've always fantasized that I already had parts I don't. But since having the surgery date set up I've just been so freaked about losing what I have that I wasn't thinking clearly about it anymore.
This is where this story gets hard to blog about. Because I can't put into words the feelings I've had. I'm not sure there are words to explain it. The very thought of post-op sex makes me light-headed and faint (in a good way). It's beyond a dream. It's like it's "too" perfect if that makes sense. It's like everything I've dreamt of and fantasized about and hoped for someday all made into a reality. And thanks to being an empath and having an awesome imagination I can really envision what it will be like. And, this is the part where there are no words. The very thought is... overwhelming... amazing... beyond words.
And just to clarify, this is no way implies penetration or me specifically being with someone with a penis. Just to throw that out there. I'm just talking about anyone, male, female, both, neither, trans, whatever, doing anything with what I will have. ALL of those various thoughts. It's... again, no proper word to put here. I wish I had a way to make others understand this feeling. I can't help but think that if people who aren't trans and don't understand transgender could understand the thoughts and feelings I'm having right now it would change the world. (not to sound full of myself, but you just don't know if you haven't been where I'm at in my life). It's intense.
So that's just some thoughts and feelings I'm having about sex post-op. Felt like rambling on a bit about that one. :-)
Friday, July 27, 2012
Another Realization About My Emotions
Realized something else over the last week or two. This is how this entire thought process progressed.
I've been horribly obsessed with trying to find someone. This loneliness has been driving me mad. I've gone to clubs, I've joined 3 dating sites, I've tried flirting with and hitting on pretty much everyone and anyone that seemed even remotely interesting and not a total ass or stupid, will never be desperate enough to be ok being with someone that's stupid. But anyhow, I've tried everything I could think of. I keep getting advice to just chill, go out, have fun, do whatever I normally do and I'll find someone. To me that feels like giving up though.
A friend of mine suggested I wait until after my surgery when things were more settled down to worry about finding a relationship. And that's probably true, a lot of people don't want to get in a relationship and deal with all this immediately. I had hoped I'd be lucky enough to find that exception. But waiting also means being alone now. And right now it SUCKS. And I guess part of me was hoping to have someone that would go through this with me. I guess I had kinda wanted to be able to say I was with someone that wanted to be with me even before the operation. I know, that seems ridiculous really. I mean who cares right?
Then I got some more advice about enjoy what I have now while I have it. So I thought about that a lot. And I do have a lot right now. I have a ton of amazing friends. I have plenty of stuff to do. I feel like I'm giving back to the community and helping to educate others when I get to speak or anything along those lines. I have people that love me in various ways and at various levels. But then I keep thinking, I don't have someone for me though, ya know? And it's hard to focus on enjoying what I do have because my mind just wants to dwell on what I don't have.
My recent freak out over surgery though made me think about a lot of things differently. Including this whole "trying to find someone" thing. And what I have realized is I do need to wait until after surgery to try and find anything serious. Not because it will be easier, but because I have come to realize I am not currently emotionally stable enough for a relationship. If I were to find one I'm not sure I could handle anything going wrong or any of the problems that I know would likely arise. Just too many thoughts and worries of my own right now. And so on that note, I probably am better off just trying to enjoy what I have and not get into something I probably can't handle right now even though I want to.
And then I have to also consider that everything I have now may change at any time. There's no guarantee from minute to minute that things won't change. And who knows how things will change after my surgery. Who knows how I'll feel about anyone or anything. And dwelling on trying to find someone or what the future will be like only takes away from enjoying the happiness I have now while I have it. I have a lot of good things going for me right now. Friends, people I talk to every day, things I enjoy doing, places I enjoy being. I really need to enjoy now. I do have people that care and want to be with me, even if they're thousands of miles away or not wanting to be with me for the same reasons I want to be with them. I'm certainly not alone. I have an asston of friends, many of which are always wanting to hang out with me.
Now this in no way means I'm giving up. I'm certainly not deleting my dating site profiles or anything. I'm still going out places and looking. I guess what it boils down to is I don't care anymore. Right now I really can only focus on my upcoming surgery. It's hard to think about anyone or anything else right now. So just going to enjoy things as they are, focus on my surgery, and should something happen with someone along they way then yay, but I'm not putting forth the energy to worry about it anymore.
After my surgery, after I see how I feel about myself, about my life, the world. After I get through this and have nothing major to worry about anymore and after I'm sure everything is done and turned out ok. After all that when I don't feel like I have something I'm hiding from anyone I meet. Then, I'll see about putting forth more effort to find someone. But for now, just going to try and enjoy life.
And for any of the people I have been talking to or flirting with, don't think this means in any way that I don't still want to get to know you better and see what happens. I just can't take any of it seriously right now. I need to focus on myself first for the next 10ish months.
Another funny thing that I've realized is what it is I really want. It's not some relationship or someone to love or sex or any of the many things I thought it was. What I'm really looking for is just someone to hold me. As simple and silly as that sounds. I really just want to find someone that wants to hold me as much as I want to be held. That's it. Maybe I will find someone soon, maybe I won't. But at least I have a better grasp on what I want and where I'm at and what I can handle right now. So I guess that's a good thing right?
I've been horribly obsessed with trying to find someone. This loneliness has been driving me mad. I've gone to clubs, I've joined 3 dating sites, I've tried flirting with and hitting on pretty much everyone and anyone that seemed even remotely interesting and not a total ass or stupid, will never be desperate enough to be ok being with someone that's stupid. But anyhow, I've tried everything I could think of. I keep getting advice to just chill, go out, have fun, do whatever I normally do and I'll find someone. To me that feels like giving up though.
A friend of mine suggested I wait until after my surgery when things were more settled down to worry about finding a relationship. And that's probably true, a lot of people don't want to get in a relationship and deal with all this immediately. I had hoped I'd be lucky enough to find that exception. But waiting also means being alone now. And right now it SUCKS. And I guess part of me was hoping to have someone that would go through this with me. I guess I had kinda wanted to be able to say I was with someone that wanted to be with me even before the operation. I know, that seems ridiculous really. I mean who cares right?
Then I got some more advice about enjoy what I have now while I have it. So I thought about that a lot. And I do have a lot right now. I have a ton of amazing friends. I have plenty of stuff to do. I feel like I'm giving back to the community and helping to educate others when I get to speak or anything along those lines. I have people that love me in various ways and at various levels. But then I keep thinking, I don't have someone for me though, ya know? And it's hard to focus on enjoying what I do have because my mind just wants to dwell on what I don't have.
My recent freak out over surgery though made me think about a lot of things differently. Including this whole "trying to find someone" thing. And what I have realized is I do need to wait until after surgery to try and find anything serious. Not because it will be easier, but because I have come to realize I am not currently emotionally stable enough for a relationship. If I were to find one I'm not sure I could handle anything going wrong or any of the problems that I know would likely arise. Just too many thoughts and worries of my own right now. And so on that note, I probably am better off just trying to enjoy what I have and not get into something I probably can't handle right now even though I want to.
And then I have to also consider that everything I have now may change at any time. There's no guarantee from minute to minute that things won't change. And who knows how things will change after my surgery. Who knows how I'll feel about anyone or anything. And dwelling on trying to find someone or what the future will be like only takes away from enjoying the happiness I have now while I have it. I have a lot of good things going for me right now. Friends, people I talk to every day, things I enjoy doing, places I enjoy being. I really need to enjoy now. I do have people that care and want to be with me, even if they're thousands of miles away or not wanting to be with me for the same reasons I want to be with them. I'm certainly not alone. I have an asston of friends, many of which are always wanting to hang out with me.
Now this in no way means I'm giving up. I'm certainly not deleting my dating site profiles or anything. I'm still going out places and looking. I guess what it boils down to is I don't care anymore. Right now I really can only focus on my upcoming surgery. It's hard to think about anyone or anything else right now. So just going to enjoy things as they are, focus on my surgery, and should something happen with someone along they way then yay, but I'm not putting forth the energy to worry about it anymore.
After my surgery, after I see how I feel about myself, about my life, the world. After I get through this and have nothing major to worry about anymore and after I'm sure everything is done and turned out ok. After all that when I don't feel like I have something I'm hiding from anyone I meet. Then, I'll see about putting forth more effort to find someone. But for now, just going to try and enjoy life.
And for any of the people I have been talking to or flirting with, don't think this means in any way that I don't still want to get to know you better and see what happens. I just can't take any of it seriously right now. I need to focus on myself first for the next 10ish months.
Another funny thing that I've realized is what it is I really want. It's not some relationship or someone to love or sex or any of the many things I thought it was. What I'm really looking for is just someone to hold me. As simple and silly as that sounds. I really just want to find someone that wants to hold me as much as I want to be held. That's it. Maybe I will find someone soon, maybe I won't. But at least I have a better grasp on what I want and where I'm at and what I can handle right now. So I guess that's a good thing right?
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