Hey everyone,
As many of you know already, I came out of the closet two years ago and within two months of coming out, I filed for divorce and started dressing female 24/7. I told everyone I know, including my kids and even my estranged family members. I ended an 18 year relationship with my now exwife, who knew of my transgenderedness, but did not know I was transsexuality. She was never accepting and we spent the previous ten years in a fake marriage where we basically met up for unfulfilling sex several time a week, and avoided each other the rest of the time, or we fought.
The mental healthcare community has determined that the best way to help us, is to help us accept this about ourselves, then transition our body's and lifestyle until the discomfort is relieved. This is different for different people, but what is crystal clear is that we all seem to have a problem accepting this about ourselves. I am not referring to knowing about it, that is different. I knew from the time I was 11, but did not really accept this about myself until age 42. I was able to deny this about myself for 31 years.
And it's a strange game I have played over the years. I am a reasonably intelligent person, certainly I know when I am lying to myself? And yes I did, but it didn't matter because I created reasonable doubt. I don't beleive there was ever a time where I got next to myself, and did not know I was transsexual. It was there, the desire to be female was always there. No matter what I told myself and I told myself a lot of things.
I was just jealous of women, that's all. It's obssessive/compulsive disorder. It's tranvestic fetishism. I just like wearing women's clothes because they represent women. Really it's just a sexual thing. I'm just a crossdresser, I don't really want to be a woman. I am clearly not attracted to men, how could I be a real transsexual. And a million other reasons I could not be a transsexual.
But still, I knew the truth. I knew I did not belong in the world of men. I surely was not in that camp. I have never considered myself to be in that group, the group that identifies themselves as men. I was nowhere. If I was not a man, and I was not a woman, but wanted to be a woman, what did that make me? No matter what it always came down to one thing. I don't want a man's body, I don't feel comfortable in it. It don't feel right. I don't know how to fit in anywhere.
When I first quit work because my fibromyalgia got so bad I could hardly function. I slept 2-4 hours a night, but never more than an hour at a time. I had severe anxiety, everything startled me, even the slightest noise. I had severe chronic pain requiring pain meds and muscle relaxers every few hours and fatigue like you can't imagine. Combine this with diarhea alternating with constipation, uncontolled bowl movements, needing to have a fan on me, 24/7, and night sweats so bad I had to get a new pillow almost monthly. Oh! and my exwife was very bitter about having to return to work, would not help around the house, critsized me continually and insisted I was faking and could work if I wanted to. It was a nonstop fight. Everyone hated being here. The kids stayed away or stayed in thier rooms to try to keep away from the anger.
I was in this spiral. The stress of fighting with my wife all the time and having to do everything was keeping me from getting better. I was thinking about killing myself daily. I decided to get some counseling. It was the counseling that made me realize what needed to happen. The reason I was not happy was because I was not doing anything to make myself happy.
In the two years since that decision, I have lived my life in female clothes. I have no money for a therapist, I have no money for electrolisis or laser hair removal. I have remarried a wonderful and accepting woman and I have returned to college. But? I am years away from a degree and even farther to being employed again. So that puts me a ways from going to a gender therapist, getting on hormones, and should I win the lottery, SRS.
But one thing I have noticed over that two years, is that denial tries to creep in there all the time. When my disability was reviewed, which it is every so many years, everyone warned me not to dress a a woman, they would be prejudice against me and rule against me. They rarely give disability to fibromyalgia patients to begin with. And I was worried, but I decided that if I were to be denied, it would be as the person I really am. But I was not denied. In fact the SS psychiatrist did not even mention it. I wore a nice pink skirt.
Again when I went to college everyone warned me. This is a conservative area, the professors will give you bad grades an there will be nothing you can do about it. But I had no problems at all and went 4.0, so far. I go pretty much unnoticed at college.
But as these things come up, and as the future unfolds, it is hard to keep the self doubt and denial away. No wonder the mental health care community is so concerned with getting us to accept this. Even though I have totally accepted this about myself, I can find reasons to start the denial. I can find differences in the experiences of other transsexuals as proof that I must be mistaken and of course, there are always all the other denials waiting to be used. Maybe I don't really need to do this? Maybe I could live my life as a man, and everyone would be a lot happier? Except me, of course.
I don't know where I am. I am in this holding pattern. I have come out to everyone. I have transitioned my life. I just don't know if, how or when I will ever get to transition my body. And I wonder If I can be happy knowing that. In some ways I feel as stuck as I was before I came out of the closet, except of course now I don't have to pretend to be in the world of men. That is a great releif. I may not be accepted as a woman, but at least no one expects me to be a man.
Certainly there are others like me? Certainly others still feel this denial creeping up on them. Trying to make us feel insecure, unfulfilled and pessomistic about our futures. It seems like it's a constant fight and I see no end in sight. This is my forseeable future.
Suggestions and comments are welcome.
Love always,
Elizabeth
