Community Conversation > Non-binary talk

bad day

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Nero:
I feel you, Panther.
I hate mine too. And I'd be getting rid of them right now, if I didn't have to see a gender therapist to get a letter declaring me insane in order to get the godforsaken things removed.
I cringe when I take a shower, I can't stand how feminine they look. I've actually had women tell me they're jealous of them.  :icon_blah:
The only things that bother me are my chest and my voice, if I can get those taken care of I'll be just fine.
I know it sucks but hang in there.

Nero

TheBattler:
Hi Pather,

I have been having a lot of bad days latly and I vented to one of my friends last Saturday about the curse of being <not allowed>.  I also vented a bit in the chat rooms and hope the log of those few days are lost. I now find myself laughing today so remeber good days will always follow the bad days.

Alice

heatherrose:
You are not pounding sand, screaming into the wind, or shouting down a well here. We care, understand and have been there one time or another. VENT ON!

HelenW:
Hang in there, Panther.  Vent all you want, that's why we're here.

helen

Underground Panther:

 Steph wrote:<I can remember my first venture in to the wild.  It was a few years ago now, and I looked and felt hideous.  I hadn't gotten more that 20 or so paces from my car and I was frozen to the side walk in fear, I managed to get back to the car and started crying over similar things you are facing, how I was such a coward, how I was so ugly, how I looked like a MAN.  This fear kept me inside, hidden for many months until I reached the breaking point, I just could stand it anymore.  I had to go out or die trying.  I did and it worked.>

This is what gets me. I am frozen stiff. I just can't do it. I am being pressured on so many sides including within myself to go out,build a life ect.ect.But there is something too horrid about stepping outside,alone.
Walking alone by the side of the road. I can't do it I freeze up.
I feel positive about it until I slip on my vest realizing,there the tumors are, open the door I CRANK up my Ipod  with some thrasher type music just to tolerate and distract from the miasma of  vicious emotions and drown out the ambient noise of  people,people with thier greedy eyes,i and vicious snarky mouths wishing  I could make them blind just for the moment I walk past.

The emotions hit me like a tidal wave as I step onto the porch and shut the door.I feel so damn crazy trapped and so so sad.Sometimes  it's so intense ,without thinking I go back inside and get the big butcher knife out, look at the blade feel how sharp, I get the nice one that I got on sale that is an 80 dollar beauty that slices watermelons with no effort..and as I hold it, I can so clearly see myself laying a tit on the cutting board and hack! In one chop. Gone. I also know if I did that I'd bleed to death too. So I put it back in the block,tell myself no,the stupid doctors wouldn't understand why I did it,they'd try to save and re attach it because they are not gonna listen to me.

These  gender comfy people never listen to what they can't understand  anyways. Than the reoply thought is... well lets see if they'd save it if I tossed it in the toilet after I took a dump,or it the cat litter box, and contaminated it? The EMT's would never check the toilet  or the cat box for the missing tit... It's so damn nuts,. I am so  scared to tell anyone this, not even my therapist ..in fact this is the first time I told anyone this is one of the reasons I don't go wandering around out here.I get crazy.
I have suicidal feelings, alot ,I don't act on them ,but sometimes I  do still do superficial cuts on my skin and keep it hid to control the emotions inside.

And  if I push myself,tell myself to just do it get over this bs,have some guts,just walk dammit  it gets more intense. I swear it's  almost  like agoraphobia.But it isn't. It's The damn gender thing.
I do fine out when I am not walking the roadside alone other people around makes it seem I am not being looked at..

I like walking at night.Nightime is safe.Plus no  people out at 3 am.
I'm told I need to excercise more for my health,and I agree..My body hungers to move,to dance, to climb trees... but I'm frozen.In jail.
Conflicted to my core.

And no way out for want of MONEY Money money money.For the right amount of paper,I live like this. I hate money I just hate the grab all you can grab and  everybody additude. You got rich mothers who blow it on stuff they never use,status symbols or fancy food or gambling .They blow in a single day way more than what it would cost to free me from this body,and they don't care about me they got thiers,And that's what makes me crazy no requirement to care about antyone elses quality of life in this evil culture. And what burns me is some of these rich bigoted way too comfortable people actively try to legislate what little hope I got away from me ,because deep down they want  all transpeople dead.And I hate it. I hate this world,the system,the culture godammit I hate it ALL..And I know the univeserse is a sadistic piece of <not allowed>..I'll never win the lotto,I'll never be a chosen one for a grant,no oprah gifts for me..I'll never get help on this beyond words.

The only reason I got a hysterectomy was because I was bleeding for months and got anemia. They had to take the blood bag out or I'd die or something. (it was absolute joy for me I could barely contain it)

Why was I ever born? I sometimes hate my mom for birthing me in this world and taking male hormones dry up her breasts, asfter my sister,and getting pregnant on the hormones..that might have been the thing that made me transgender I dunno..The least she could do if she thinks this may be the case,and she has said this,is HELP ME fixit!!..I hate my father too. Mom isn't gonna help  me with the breast problem,I have asked and asked,but she makes excuses.. She has seen me flip out in tears trying to put on bras she has caught me pounding the breasts in the shower in a rage.And she has no empathy. No empathy to care  if it makes her feel uncomfortable and may offend that bigot family of hers. God you cannot imagine how  it felt her betrayal ,the last one..


One day I was putting on a bra and I flipped out again. Mom came into the room trying to comfort me,(she really just wanted me to calm down,she wasen't concerned why I was flioppping out,she was just upset at the fact I was upset) I told her I can't take this <not allowed> anymore,that these <not allowed> have to go, they are driving me crazy. I can't take it..It's killing me... And because she is a  two faced narcissist ....who can't empathize WITH ME,but does with herself..she lied to me and said she'd help me and I could pay her back.
I asked her if she really meant that..she said yes she did. For the next few days I re asked and each time she said she would help me pay for surgery..
I began to believe her,I started to feel hope, I showed her all the info about the surgeons..We settled on Beverly Fischer because she was a good doc and my mom wanted me to go to a good doc. I liked Beverlys work on large chests. So we went to her..
I got my therapist to sign THE PAPER,that reccomended I get a  double masectomy.I went to see Fischer I was so exicited and happy with anticipation I thought I was gonna pass out..I paid her 100 bucks for the consult.

Anyways she saw pictures of other transgu'ys chest reconstruction work,mom seemed impressed with how natural it looked..,Fischer explained to her the procedure,and  said I was a good candidate. Fischer said my chest would turn out excellent.Told my mom the dangers,and a few rare cases where things went wrong.She told mom mosdt cases don't have complications she has done male chest reconstructing for  over 15 years.

My mom in the office said well,don't tell the family down home about this.

She was worried more about what a bunch of fundamentalist rednecks in another state thought of her,more than my sanity.I was offended as hell but squelched it.

The next day she told me she would not help me..I was ready to die on the spot. I felt like killing her first tho.I cried and cried. I wanted to cut my throat ,run in front of a mack truck.

She was using every excuse she could to rationalize why she can't afford it,The driveway needed paving,she wanted to fix things around the house..It was so transparent it made me sick..
She could've helped .We both knew it.

She ended up buying another house,moving to her bigot family because  she says she was depressed because all her freinds were dying,maybe so but I think she was wheedling out of her promise  to me and could not deal with the fact I HATED her for betraying me on this after all these years..after she saw me in my first GYN appointments begging for a hysterectomy and breast removal...."coincidentally" a house next to her fundy sister opened up..for sale.She moved out.. I live in the house here. and I HATE it. It's in a suburb,I hate suburbia life. I hate mowing lawns. I never wanted to live this way.I hate the culture of this town, I grew up here and this town is full of abuse memories of my entire life,I tried so hard to get OUT of this town yet here I am. And I can't afford to maintain this place on SSI alone. SSI to  rent a pplace  in the city?  Bwahahahaha..20 year waiting list for section 8?? Bwaahahaha.Yeah that's an option..

So I am in a ten year empty loveless relationship that is slowly draining the life out of me that I am miserable with to pay for living in a town I hate. To pay for a house I never wanted.A life that is not mine..I am trapped. and miserable on so many levels.And I want to claw myself apart.

Why doesen't death just take me now?

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