I'm struggling to hold it together at the moment.
I got in touch with the NHS at the beginning of February and it took me 15 weeks just to speak to someone who's only purpose was to rule out the possibility that I was mentally unstable. They then told me that I might see an actual psychologist a month from then. It's now been 6 weeks and I've yet to receive any kind of communication from the NHS whatsoever.
I've since been in touch with the Mental health unit who have told me that they are unable to give any indication of when I might expect to talk to an actual psychologist as there is no waiting list. Apparently the psychologist chooses who to see on the basis of how urgent that they feel your need to speak with someone is. So I could hypothetically never see anyone as long as someone else comes along who they feel it is more urgent to see.
I can't begin hormones because the NHS hasn't gotten back to me about genetic storage despite having almost as much time as the psychology unit.
My GP who had offered to try and cajole both the psychology unit and the fertility unit into action is on holiday for the rest of the week.
Most of my friends have moved away for the summer including the one friend I'd felt comfortable confiding in at this point. I feel alone and isolated.
An injury to my knee has made exercise problematic and problems with my shoulder have left me unable to continue participating in archery. I'm finding it harder and harder to find anything to do to keep myself occupied to prevent myself from just wallowing in the frustration and helplessness I feel in dealing with people who seem to lack any motivation to help me.
Then yesterday morning my dog died.
I just felt numb, then increasingly miserable as the day progressed.
Feeling that I had to make some progress on my transition or go crazy I tried to keep my first appointment for laser later that day despite my low mood. I struggled to get myself out the door and moving and as a consequence nearly missed my train. I had hoped that the physical pain of laser hair removal would distract me from the emotional pain I was feeling. But rather than distract me the pain just robbed me of what composure I was clinging to and I broke down midway though the session.
I realised that my dog was gone and that I was never going to see him again and I just missed him so much.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back and I turned into a blubbering mess barely able to speak through tears which wouldn't stop coming.
Fortunately for the staff at the clinic were very understanding (apparently they were all "dog people").
For once I didn't feel judged for expressing an emotion other than mirth or anger. I didn't feel like they were viewing me as a man failing to repress my feelings.
I left the clinic intermittently breaking down again on the way back to the station, on the train and on the way back to my flat.
If I think about my dog I start to tear up again.
I just feel like there's nothing I can do at this point besides getting angry and pursuing official complaints which may just make things worse.
I could really use a hug and some false reassurance about now
