How does your dsyphoria manifest itself?

[amandam]

Do you obsess about something like a body part, or girls you see? Do you ruminate? Do you have a general sense of angst? Is it a depression? Do the thoughts start as soon as you wake up or are they off and on?

What is dysphoria to you? How does it actually bother you?

[K3lly]

Do you obsess about something like a body part, or girls you see? Do you ruminate? Do you have a general sense of angst? Is it a depression? Do the thoughts start as soon as you wake up or are they off and on?

What is dysphoria to you? How does it actually bother you?

My dysphoria is swingy.  Sometimes it is strong and unrelenting and at other times I can almost ignore it. At its worst it is an echo chamber of obsession and depression.  The more I obsess on how wrong my gender is the more depressed I get.  The more depressed I get the more I obsess.  And round and round it goes.

But the worst is how exhausting the male facade is.  Every moment of every day I am constantly assessing if I am presenting male enough.

Every woman I see, my mind wonders at what life is like for her.  I know life is hard for everyone, but I always wonder if the social pressures on women would be easier to take then this internal pressure from the dysphoria.  This one is thorny, because when I start these thoughts I feel guilty for minimizing the struggles of others.

Finally there is the ache in the pit of my stomach.  It eats at me as this all feels hopelessly wrong.

On the good days I can just almost ignore that whole mess, keep up the act, and "live life", for whatever that is worth.  On the bad days I am crushed under the weight of it all, just barely able to function.

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[missmolly]

All of the above

I can suppress it in the same way you can hold a beach ball under water. Eventually I will run out of strength/willpower and the beach ball will come roaring back to the surface.

One thing that has started happening lately is that it is showing itself in my subconcious when I am sleeping. You know when you are in that 80% sleep, 20% awake state? Lately it has been showing up very strongly in that state. Like a deep rooted internal desire that I need to transition.

I have obsessed about body parts my whole life - specifically wider hips and breasts.

And it also manifests itself when I see a well put together woman. Watching TV/movies has become difficult.

But the worst is how exhausting the male facade is.  Every moment of every day I am constantly assessing if I am presenting male enough.

Exactly. I still go to the gym and still try to add muscle. While I am on HRT at the same time I am no where near full time and am still obsessed about presenting male until that time comes.

[LizK]

Hi  amandam

For me  one of the ways GD manifested itself was in vivid nightmares(some remembered some not) that were enough have me physically throw myself out of bed... in order to wake me up. Sometimes I have not remembered them and they still leave me sobbing uncontrollably  upon waking...these have gotten far less since my transition but every now and then I will have one that will leave me shaking and crying for hours....I cannot describe the horror of these dreams but they are a direct result of my GD and always related to my transition in some way. I have had one recurring dream in particular that is very nasty and has reoccurred throughout my life at various times, the last time being some 12 months ago and left me shaken for 3 days.

[Rachel_Christina]

Obsessing over my body? My voice, things that shouldn't be there.
Thinking I'm too square, gahh ther is so much crap that comes and goes.
I kinda just ignore it

[Julia1996]

For me it's being around pregnant women or someone on their period. I don't like children and even if I could have them I wouldn't. At least right now. Actually having a period doesn't sound fun at all and I'm like sure I wouldn't enjoy it. It's just that both things are a reminder I'm not a biological female.
Julia

[KathyLauren]

As I have been transitioning, my dysphoria has changed. 

Back in my closeted days, it manifested as an intense dislike of anything male, especially clothing but also male behaviour patterns.  I envied pretty women and longed to dress like them and be like them.

Now that I am full-time, those manifestations have settled down, since I am now living those dreams and loving it.  But now I feel more dysphoria about my body.  It was always there, but masked by the other more intense feelings.  I hate my beard and loathe the feeling of stubble on my face, especially when I have to grow it out for electrolysis.  And I dislike the external plumbing bits and long to be smooth.

[Viktor_01]

FTM here.
For me it's seeing the parts of my body that I dislike the most, e.g. chest area, waist, butt, and thighs. If any of those areas are being touched, it triggers it as well. I feel an intense disgust, and a sudden burst of anxiety. I feel like I just want to crawl out of my skin and be free from all of the discomfort and leave my disgusting shell behind.
When my dysphoria hits me I tend my become more withdrawn and reluctant to be touched. I don't even like to touch myself, accidentally or not. So, yeah, depression and anxiety is something I deal with on a daily basis...

[baseballfan]

My dysphoria is swingy.  Sometimes it is strong and unrelenting and at other times I can almost ignore it. At its worst it is an echo chamber of obsession and depression.  The more I obsess on how wrong my gender is the more depressed I get.  The more depressed I get the more I obsess.  And round and round it goes.

But the worst is how exhausting the male facade is.  Every moment of every day I am constantly assessing if I am presenting male enough.

Every woman I see, my mind wonders at what life is like for her.  I know life is hard for everyone, but I always wonder if the social pressures on women would be easier to take then this internal pressure from the dysphoria.  This one is thorny, because when I start these thoughts I feel guilty for minimizing the struggles of others.

Finally there is the ache in the pit of my stomach.  It eats at me as this all feels hopelessly wrong.

On the good days I can just almost ignore that whole mess, keep up the act, and "live life", for whatever that is worth.  On the bad days I am crushed under the weight of it all, just barely able to function.

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This is really well put.  Thank you for sharing.  I can really relate to this. 

As I told my therapist, it comes in waves.  There are days/weeks/months where it is something in the background that I only think about a handful of times in the day.  There are times when, as you said, I obsess over it.  And everything in between.  It is these waves that make me doubt whether or not I am trans.  When it not "full force" it doesn't feel like as big of a deal.

When I see a woman doing/wear/acting feminine in a way that I cannot, I think the same way that you can.  How great would it be to just be able to do that without even thinking about it.  To do something that is terrifying to me every single day without even a second thought?  Fantasies for me.

Thank you for that post. 

[Bari Jo]

Mine hits when I see skinny girls and flawless faces and skin.  I've never been attracted to the Barbi curves.  I prefer the olive oils of the world.  When a girl has flawless skin and also is thin, then that just makes me depressed and obsess about myself.  I used to be that way before I dove head first into trying to be masculine.

[Katy]

It's a voice, often a mere whisper but sometimes so loud you can hardly think.  It's a thief, robbing you of contentment within your own skin.  It's a fog making it virtually impossible to get your bearings and have a sense of direction and purpose in life.  It's a burden like pushing a large boulder up an incline only to have it come rolling back down.  It's an open wound that seemingly will never heal and festers from time to time.  It's...

[K3lly]

It's a voice, often a mere whisper but sometimes so loud you can hardly think.  It's a thief, robbing you of contentment within your own skin.  It's a fog making it virtually impossible to get your bearings and have a sense of direction and purpose in life.  It's a burden like pushing a large boulder up an incline only to have it come rolling back down.  It's an open wound that seemingly will never heal and festers from time to time.  It's...

Perfectly said.

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[Sarahcraft]

My dysphoria is swingy.  Sometimes it is strong and unrelenting and at other times I can almost ignore it. At its worst it is an echo chamber of obsession and depression......But the worst is how exhausting the male facade is.  Every moment of every day I am constantly assessing if I am presenting male enough........On the good days I can just almost ignore that whole mess, keep up the act, and "live life", for whatever that is worth.  On the bad days I am crushed under the weight of it all, just barely able to function.

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I relate to this so closely, it's like I wrote it for myself to read.

[meatwagon]

for me it's crippling isolation that has gone on for so long that it's just become the normal state of things. 
if it's not a hurt, disgusted, shameful feeling that leaves me crying in the bathroom, it's a lingering depression that will completely sap my energy and dampen my mood for the rest of the day.  either way, it's a constant sense of being wrong, and trying to avoid anything that would remind me.  the best i can do is to keep distracted and not think about my body or my voice, but that is impossible to keep up for very long.

[2.B.Dana]

Thanks to all for what you have written here. This past weekend I came out to my 3 kids and 3 brothers plus extended family. In the process I so wanted an escape hatch that this wasn't really me and I didn't have GD. I know I do but so not wanting it to be there. Reading posts like this helps me to realize I'm not Tigger....I'm not the only one.

I found it difficult to explain to my daughters how this all feels as it changes the longer I am on HRT. Do they want to know what its like in the pit of hell days or the unease I feel now that I haven't gone full-time yet, or my fear of getting to full-time and not liking the me I end up being. Hopes and dreams versus reality. time will tell.

[PinkThorn682]

Obsessing over my body? My voice, things that shouldn't be there.
Thinking I'm too square, gahh ther is so much crap that comes and goes.
I kinda just ignore it

A lot of this for me. Physical discomfort whenever I can feel hair on my jawline and sometimes when I feel stuff between my legs too.

[Bari Jo]

Mine also manifests itself to further isolate.  I see others having fun and think why couldn't that be me.  Even if you are participating, you feel like you are not, because it's not the real you.  It feels like a heavy cloak is holding you down.

[Jenny94]

Great question missmolly.

For me, it's when I see a woman's natural body language - say a short-ish, thin woman, when she sits down and tucks a foot under her other thigh, and this all happens naturally, smoothly, and she's comfortable. I'm 6'2" and gangly, and while I'm practising the way I sit, I've got a way to go, and I'm envious of them for not even (I assume) having to think about it.

Then there's seeing 'girly' items in shops - beautiful dresses and jewellery and so on. I feel a bit of a twit browsing through that stuff, and wish I could just shop for these things the way born women do.

It's also when I start talking, stop concentrating on feminisation and the pitch of my voice falls back to baritone, and I just think for f's sake, why have I got this silly male voice.

And I guess also, like Julia, when people talk about, or I see evidence of, pregnancy, menstruation, and those other female things that I'll just never have, no matter how much transition.

Finally and mostly - getting called "sir". It just makes me sick. I go to such an effort to dress and act like a woman, and these stuck-up, old-fashioned, servile people throw it all back in my face. Of course, it's not fair to call them that based on such a small thing, but it's the way that I feel in the moment, and hey, let a girl vent =P

[Sophia Sage]

Back when I was afflicted with dysphoria, it was a combination of fear, anger, disgust, and sadness.

Sadness about the losses I'd experienced and would continue to experience.
Disgust with my embodiment.
Fear that I would never be gendered correctly.
Anger about my fate.

I'd have panic attacks, rocking myself back and forth on the picnic table behind the barn, alone in the dark.  Despair to the point of staying in the car, while it was running, in the garage with all the doors closed.  Couldn't bear to look in the mirror, except at very particular angles, and every shower -- every trip to the loo -- was an opportunity to vomit.  And rage so hot that I'd just have to run for miles and miles to burn it off.

What was it that triggered my dysphoria?  Misgendering.  Plain and simple, misgendering.  From others, yes, but mostly from myself.  Whatever it was that reminded me of what I'd missed out on, that was an opportunity to stoke my own dysphoria, my own self-loathing. 

So I did everything my power to stop it.  And I did.  I realized that being misgendered was at the root of it all, and so that was what I addressed.  It started with my embodiment.  I was lucky -- I found my authentic voice, and then all the dominoes toppled.  Electrolysis, facial surgery, bottom surgery, new boobs, and I was lucky because I had enough credit to afford it.  But it didn't stop there. 

Early on, I tried to go back to an old community, after all my surgeries.  For some people, their own memories were more powerful than my embodiment, and the old name or pronouns would slip out despite their best intentions, and I knew that I'd have to leave for good, because I couldn't tolerate the possibility of that old dysphoria being triggered once again. 

So I practiced non-disclosure and formed new relationships without a misgendered history.  And I let these people (who always gendered me correctly, because they had no knowledge or memory of a misgendered history) inform me as to who I really was.  As far as I was concerned, they knew better.  And I was better for it.  I finally stopped clocking myself. 

I told my story as a cis story... and eventually, my own memories changed.  Funny, that. 

Intellectually, I know I transitioned.  But it doesn't feel like it anymore.  There's no dysphoria.  Even on those handful of times (five, to be precise) in the last decade where a random stranger misgendered me (I'm still tall, still big), only to fall over themselves in apology upon hearing my voice.  Is this what it's like to be cis?  To experience no dysphoria?  To even be somewhat amused by other people's mistakes? 

[sf_erika]

For me, the dysphoria manifests itself in a number of ways.  The most persist is a constant feeling of sadness when I'm presenting as male.  Kind of like I'm at the constant threshold of tears, and could just burst out at any time. It's hard to focus or concentrate when I'm feeling like that.  Even if I get distracted enough to leave that state of mind, something always brings me back to it: a woman I pass on the street, someone calling me "sir," etc.  Sprinkled in with that feeling are other things: the occasional (sometimes frequent) loss of sleep, nausea, short temper, lack of confidence, etc.  I'm sure I could go on, but that's probably a good overview. 


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