My name is Andrea. I am almost 39, M2F transgendered, and it's killing me.
I find myself a little on edge tonight. I would have transitioned in the 80's if I had believed anyone would have helped me. I have spent the last ten years recovering from the breakdown that resulted from my initial attempt to transition in the late 90's, and tonight I got blindsided by the airing of three transgender programs on Discovery. One, Transgender MD, prompted me to fire up the computer and google my way to this forum.
I am severely transgendered, to the point where the pretense of being a man drives me regularly over the edge into a complete nervous breakdown or dangerous flirtation with self mutilation, and, well, that has never been a good thing. I have spent my life destroying myself to appear normal enough to get through the day. I pay for it most nights. Most of all, I pay for it by achieving nothing for all my effort. I've literally turned myself inside out to make less than I need to survive, almost every day of my adult life. I've gone so far beyond the point where I could have killed myself... that was the day I first read the standards of care.
It broke me but I tried to follow them. By the time I had asked for help, I was too damaged to do what was required to get it. I still don't understand how I can be too strong to kill myself but too fragile to function on my own. I tried to do better. I sacrificed transition hoping to strengthen my foundation, slowly, painfully, pulling my life more together, living on my own, supporting myself (barely!) while acquiring an Associate's Degree in Business and pursuing a Bachelor's Degree in Information Technology for Visual Communications. Unfortunately, my income has been so limited I have not been able to afford therapy, let alone any of the other expenses of transitioning. I've been at a stand still. Tonight, I found myself forced to confront the fact that I will not survive much more of this.
I am currently in Anchorage, AK, lured up by a job and the possibility of mutual support (a transgendered person I had become close to online) only to have the job opportunity vanish into thin air and, well, somehow, the support evaporated as well. She is caught up in a child custody conflict and concerned about what would happen if we shared an apartment (with or without transitioning). I was able to find a job and get an apartment, then began temping at higher paying jobs, but because of the instability I've been through, chronically, my resume is no asset for finding real jobs. I may have a shot at a job by way of a temp assignment--I'm a solid and talented worker when my brain is not in the process of imploding--but on the off chance that falls through, the only hope I have is that I get another temp assignment right away.
If not. Well...
Things are looking pretty scary right now. But, that's kind of the story of my life! Trying to transition in 1998-1999 left me homeless and with stitches in something I never should have had in the first place! I have to laugh, though. I kind of have to sigh, too. It took a long time to learn how to say these horrible things so openly and so simply. I used to kill myself trying to make people like me and to make them believe I was happy, healthy and normal. Now, I look at the tragic joke of my life and laugh. I cry a little and then I take a deep breath and keep moving forward because I am not dead yet. I'm scared, alone, afraid I will never escape from the trap I am in, and have no idea what to do if I ever do; but I am not dead yet.
I'm barely surviving... and that's just not good enough. As strong as I am, this condition is STILL tearing me apart. It's more than I can handle, and much, much more than my friends and family could handle. Even the ones who would still welcome me on the other side find the reality of where I am now inconceivable.
If only it was....
Anyway, I thought I should do a little screaming before I went over the edge.
