A perspective on transition

While idling in a trans-related irc channel, a conversation struck up relating to a specific problem that someone was having. Out of this came some advice that I wish I had been given years ago, and, I believe, something that many people deserve to know sooner rather than later:

It's a false choice; you don't "try to transition".

You "decide to take HRT", you "decide to dress androgynously", you "decide to get electro/laser", etc.

The "decide to transition" paradigm died out in the 50's, but the establishment and popular literature just hasn't yet caught up to that reality.

You need to learn to listen to yourself, and put that in its place on your hierarchy of needs. So you can make decisions like:

• Electro is a good idea. I am going to get electrolysis because no matter what I decide, I am never going to enjoy facial hair.
• It is ok for me to dress androgynously. The consequences are relatively small, and it makes all the difference in the world when I see myself.
• It is ok for me to take HRT, because the changes are relatively small over months and I can always change my mind.

In the grand scope of things, the only *big* decisions are the irrevocable ones. Sharing this with your family, with your employer, with your friends.

> SecondWind, I feel like the fool on the short bus all the other kids make fun of, but I do not know how to dress androgynously

Hah, good point. God, I hate fashion. I just shopped entirely in the women's clothing section for that which I would wear anyways.

Sweaters, jeans, sneakers, etc.

Also grow out your hair and get it styled in a way you like, fuck gender norms.

I'm not saying androgyny is a comfortable place to end up, but it's sure as hell better than where you started.

Anyhow, if you were truly ready to fully transition *right now*, it would be a horrible experience, because it takes a _long_ time.

-- SecondWind

Charing Cross Gender Identity Clinic

So, here's what I've learned so far about the 'process' with regard to starting on the path to transitioning. Italic text is my advice, which has been gleaned from getting as far as the first appointment. Bold text is what they want you to keep believing.

• If you have gender dysphoria, and desire to transition from one physical gender to another, you must first talk to your G.P., who will refer you to a local Psychiatrist, who will then refer you to the GIC (in this case, and many others, Charing Cross).
• If you have gender dysphoria, and desire to transition from one physical gender to another, go talk to your G.P., and then start your transition - transition at home, get your deed poll done, transition at work.
  At some point down the line (4-6 months), you'll receive an appointment with a Psychiatrist, who will tell you that you need a referral and then put you on the waiting list. Your first appointment at CHX-GIC will be roughly 1 year after you've seen your psych for the first time.
  
  
• During your 60 minute initial assessment, we'll discuss with you your history, and then discuss with you how we can aid you with your transition - hormones, speech therapy, hair removal (not covered by all PCTs).
• During your 60 minute initial assessment, you will re-tell your entire life story - the unabridged version -, in great detail. This will take approximately 80% of the appointment.
  
  You will then be told whether or not you're a suitable candidate for transition. You will be told that you should get a deed poll done and bring it to your next appointment, as they consider this to be "not required, but, a definite line in the sand that shows you are serious".
  ***Even if you have been on hormones before (self prescribed or otherwise), this is not a valid case for proving you're serious***
  
  You will be told that they require blood to be taken, and given a blood test sheet, which you must then take to CHX-Hospital.
  
  You will be given a follow-up appointment, with a colleague of the psych's choosing. During this follow-up, you will be expected to re-tell your life story, in depth.
  
  You will probably at this point ask about when hormones can be prescribed, even if just anti-androgens.
  The answer will be "After your next session, if we're satisfied"
  You will ask "what is the criteria to satisfy you?"
  The answer will be "Well, you need to prove that you're serious; so, deed poll, and transition."
  To which you'll probably reply "waaaait... I have to transition *without* hormones, and *without* speech therapy?"
  To which the answer will be "yes... we don't like to give out hormones pre-transition, as people can wait for themselves to become more confident, and maybe even never transition, even though their bodies have physically changed. As to speech-therapy, we believe it shows that you're more serious if you transition without it. We'll happily refer you after you've transitioned though, and proven this at your 2nd appointment, or 5th, or 10th, or however many it takes you until we're satisfied."
  They'll also throw in some bullshit about speech-therapist preferring people to be in one role, just to fuck with you.
  
  At the end of the session (especially if you've moved house), expect the uptight bitch in the reception to tell you "You must stand there, and then she'll be with you in a second", followed by her moving 2' to the left when you stand where she tells you, and asking "How can I help?". This will promptly be followed up with something along the lines of (if you moved) "Because you moved I can't give you an appointment now as we have to check funding."

Had I known all of these things *before* starting this path of bullshit, I'd have transitioned already, and wouldn't have wasted another 1.5 years. Thanks charing cross, thanks Dr Davies, and fuck you and the horses you both rode in on.

P.S. Their idea of a hormone regimen is fucking archaic. No wonder it takes years for people to even begin to show sign of their bodies changing.

I wrote poetry

Untitled

Everyday is the same day,

The feelings never change.

Each day is no different,

This shit has to stop.

Why Can't I Be Happy?

I feel oh so sad.

People don't see me.

I don't see myself.

There is no escaping,

from your own living hell.

Untitled 1

The only person who cares is me.

I don't know what I'm caring for.

I tell myself things will get better.

I believe my own deception.

My whole life a fantasy of nothing that's right,

Why won't they let me just extinguish the light?

They say it would hurt them,

They claim that they care.

Lies of indifference leading me to despair.

Nothing gets better, the end just draws near...

Staying alive just brings me to tears.

Untitled 2

My world is desaturated,

Not grey but not color either.

Nothing is vivid.

No smiling here.

I look all around me,

it's all the same.

I'll never be one of them, no matter how I try

I feel like such a horrible person. I look around, see happy people, and wish that they'd all have something horrible happen to them to take away that happiness. Right now, my emotions are operating on a 'if I can't be happy, you can't be happy' wavelength.

I'm incapable of being happy with myself, and this adversely affects everything else. I went to see Tegan & Sara live, and while I loved the music, and it definitely goes down as one of the best shows I have ever been to; I ended up looking at all the beautiful lesbians and becoming depressed that I'll never be like that, not unless I spend hundreds of thousands on extensive plastic surgery.

Friends suggest we go out together, and as much as I'd love to... as much as I really want to, I know I won't fit in, can't fit in. I feel so powerless to my circumstance. So unattractive. So worthless. There are so many social boundaries that feel like an iron curtain, my happiness being on the other side, unattainable.

I think the only way I'll ever attain peace in this life is by dying... and that just makes me even more sad.

Maybe they're right

When I started this little journey of mine, I wasn't quite prepared for just how much self-doubt, angst, depression, general unhappiness and all the other things I've been dealing with. I figured that since I was finally doing something, then I'd be happy. How wrong was I?

Very, apparently.

Now, I assume that a lot of what I'm feeling right now has to do with being off my meds - I can't afford more until next week, and so, no doubt the current hormone imbalance is doing plenty of its own unique and special things to fuck with my mood.

This week has been especially interesting; I've been feeling both happy and sad at the same time; I've been having flashbacks and nightmares; and, I've been wondering whether I should just give up on it all. That's not to say I'm contemplating suicide, or indeed want to attempt suicide, I've just been thinking a lot that this life really sucks and is working out to be very pointless indeed.
Never underestimate the power other people - complete strangers - have to screw with your self-confidence either. Getting called 'sir' all the time really hurts. Now, admittedly, I still go to work as a guy, but, I often put a lot of effort into looking androgynous, and so, It Hurts, Damnit.

I'm just so afraid that nothing will turn out right.

I am not depressed, I am not depressed, I am not ...

As a kid, my mom always tried to drum into me the idea of "The Power of Positive Thinking". She isn't a religious person, but, if she was, I'm fairly certain that her religion would be self-motivation; and to a degree, I suspect it is.
I'm incredibly lucky to have a mom like her, she's an incredibly strong, independent, free-thinking woman; and definitely the greatest role-model in my life - she is likely why I ended up a feminist after all... though she never consciously pushed me in that direction.

It's things like that which get to me though... I never really got into the whole positive thinking thing - moreover, I never really figured out how to cope with the bouts of incredible depression that hit me from time to time... now brought more regular by hormones that aim to approximate the monthly cycle of womanhood. Sadly, it's always something I least expect that pushes me into it, and leaves me blindsided by sadness, confusion, depression.

Today, it was this: Hunter Valentine (a band I love) posted about a gig they're doing today, in West Hollywood, LA, at a place called Girlbar; which got me thinking... I wonder if there are any lesbian bars in London of that ilk - by that, I mean, similar to how they are in the US.
I managed to find a list, which is by now at least a couple of years out of date - many of the bars have closed, or changed, or a multitude of other things; websites left without updates for over a year and all that good stuff.

Then it hit me... the depression, revolving around the thoughts "And how, prey, do you intend to go to a bar for gay girls?" coupled with "Yes, you consider yourself to be a gay girl, but, no-one else does... so, you're basically... Fucked."
I'm sure this would be easier if I had a bunch of female friends who were gay too, but, I don't, so it isn't... and all the positive thinking in the world isn't going to change that for me.

I do find it interesting however, the way that the majority of my depressive thoughts circle around things relating to me not getting to be me. I guess it makes sense in a way though.

That downward spiral

It's been over a month since I last posted... I should really do this more often, I know that it helps me to get it all out instead of dwelling on it; but, writing requires motivation, and to a degree, confidence - neither of which I've had much of this past month or so. My biggest news, is that I finally found a psychiatrist who seems to actually a) care, b) not be completely jaded; and, he was willing to prescribe. I'm on Quetiapine now... it's an anti-psychotic, which is also indicated for bipolar people, and it has an amazing sedative effect - I'm out cold an hour after taking it.

I don't know if it's helping though; the past two weeks have been a slow descent into depression; while a bad thing, I guess at least I'm not rapid-cycling from mania to depression and back again at will, but, now all the old feelings of being worthless are coming back.
I guess that when you're not in a state of depression for more than a day or two, without bouncing into happiness and mania for another day or two, it becomes hard to really focus on how much your life sucks. You're almost brainwashed by the fact that you have several insane moments during the week, where everything feels like it's covered in gold leaf.

That facade has fallen. The grip of self-deprecation is taking hold. For the first time in at least a year, I found myself wishing to die. Not to the point of wanting to take my own life; I mean, there are extenuating circumstances as to why I probably won't ever try that again, but, if I was diagnosed with a terminal condition and given a week to live? Yeah. I wouldn't be unhappy.

Sometimes, it's just the same shit, different day syndrome that is existence in the 21st century. "Existence"... if you could even call it that. I'm sure it's my own fault, I've spent years isolating myself from society, so now, my life consists of a monotonous continuum, never once changing for the better. The lack of social interaction usually doesn't bother me too much unless I expose myself to vast swathes of society all at once... then it becomes too much and I run away, clutching at my solitude.

Alas, times like this... the run-up to the clock ticking on one more year... one more year crossed off the calendar of life. I hate the feeling of getting older; I may have said this before. Aging is one of the things I fear the most. That, and my reflection. Sometimes, I think of neither, and see myself as I wish to be. Other times, it's a sinister menace waiting to pounce out from the shadows and crush my self-confidence into dust; my brain playing a chorus of Baz Luhrmann's Sunscreen, morbidly changing the words in my head.

You are as fat as you imagine.

I often find myself wondering, whether it's normal to feel this way; indeed, whether I'll ever truly be happy with my life, with who I am, with how I look; I wonder whether I'll ever be loved. At times, I find someone who's interesting and who I'm attracted to... yet doesn't feel the same way, and never will. Then I remember that old saying and resign myself to another year of loneliness.

You have to love yourself before others can love you.