Good morning. Well, around a year ago at the start of 2016, at the fairly juvenile age of 13-14, I found that there was a
very slight error with my circumstances around being born to a male body.
We are all aware, that when we are born we are immediately presented with a clipboard with the following options: "M", "F", and a green crayon to tick based on our preference. Now I apparently ticked the "M" option by accident, which has led to some fairly unpleasant situations since. Either that, or a committee in the room next door to my birth vetoed my form.
I fully discovered this marginal error, after my mind began very vividly portraying myself as female 24/7/365, and giving me an entire cakewalk of searing anxiety (anxiety is unusual to me in most other situations), whilst making me forcefully suppress my wish want to vomit and cry/&scream. Before that, I hated being called male, and had always found myself to be highly sensitive to other people's concerns and emotions. My group of friends before high school, were 90% female and I fitted perfectly.
In terms of other anomalies, I often worried about offending or misappropriating other people, my concerns sometimes coming at a detriment to my own freedom of thought.
Although my parents would prove to be highly supportive of my transition, I found it extremely difficult to explain my feelings and only defined "transgender" in the narrowest terms possible. Unfortunately, I eventually forced myself into the same level of emotional destruction required to meet my insane standard.
Initially, I came out as gay, but that made things much worse - considering that I later found out I was lesbian as well as female (therefore repulsed by masculinity even more). What made things worse, is that I often appeared happy, even mistaking my own anxiety with happiness. I also had a reputation for being theatrically demonstrative.
However, with the power of intensive 10-hour isolative sessions of Dmitry Shostakovich and Tchaikovsky, I was able to get through the year.
The beginning of this year was when I revealed myself to my family, then eventually socially transitioned with mild success. I also broke out of a toxic friendship (homophobic, misogynist, transphobic, etc.).
Unfortunately, my hopes for medically transitioning past blockers were crushed, after finding our region has only one endocrinologist. However as a family, we will be moving to a more progressive place with better treatment next year.
About midway through the year, the desire to become female was impossible to handle, and I acquired a countless number of self-harming and self-mutilation events, including four suicide attempts. This led to my voluntary institutionalization in a mental hospital, where there were many more clipboards, forms and committees
, and some interesting people (although I am not unhappy about meeting them).
The befuddled collective of various professionals then re-iterated plain and clean that I had gender identity disorder, but not a whole wealth of other disorders that they believed I possessed, to my insistence that indicated otherwise.
Now, I presume I am 'stable'. But the only way I keep afloat (in spite of my brilliant family), is through writing very descriptive stories and studying - although I am still highly prone to crying and the occasional semi-frequent cry-scream.
I have also decided to immerse myself intellectually in women's issues and politics, as that is the only way I feel that my 14-year experience deficit may be adequately surrogated, or as the standard under which I may call myself 'female'.
There is much more I could say, but that seems to be a correct dosage of text for now.
But now time must go forward, and optimism is imperative. The committees
have been re-educated, and process of getting the hormones has been shortened. I hope that some day before the age of 30 I am able to pay for re-assignment surgery.
Otherwise, for me it is simply
lights out.
