I don't talk about my puberty often, it was pretty bad. Although some things didn't happen (my voice didn't drop and I didn't get an adams apple, etc), other things happened and it drove me insane.
I was around 12-13 when I started cutting myself. I hated my body. I refused to have any pictures of myself around, because the boy wasn't me. I even went as far as cutting my genitals. This happened for years and years... 16 years, actually. I'm doing much better now, but it's hard to break that coping mechanism. I would love to say that I haven't cut myself in a long time, but the truth is that it's been two months, and I cut in the area of my genitals -- not on, because my psych doc was really laying it down that if I do too much damage GRS could be harder (right now, the damage isn't bad, the cuts/scars aren't too bad, so I'm in the okay and clear for that, luckily). Of course, he doesn't want me to do it and I've been working hard for years not too. Over the years, I'm glad to say, that I have pretty much almost stopped. Like, I slip up sometimes, but with years and years of using this to cope with my dysphoria, it's hard to just stop in one day. But I am glad that I've improved a lot.
My body changes with HRT have actually helped me a lot, since I see myself in the mirror and I'm starting to like what I see more and more. It has really helped me psychologically in major ways. I don't even get depressed like I used to.
I had pretty bad bipolar when I was younger, too. My first actual attempt at suicide was when I was 15. It was after the bishop of my church (LDS/Mormon) councelled me that I'm not a woman, that I should be proud to be a man, that god made me a man for a reason and didn't make a mistake. He was determined to help me through my gender issues and the cure for that was to make me more man like.
I then tried to kill myself.
After graduation, the church tried again and my family really pushed me to give being male another shot. They sent me on a mission and while there I went though the program that "cures" gays and trans people. They also had a private doctor perscribe me all kinds of medications. I took 32 pills a day.
My plan after graduation was to vanish, maybe to Vancouver, and start transitioning. Sadly, it didn't turn out that way.
When I came home I was so depressed and confused, that again, I tried killing myself and I died for two minutes in the hospital. I over dosed on drugs, a lot of them. After that I spent about a year in a mental institution. I really didn't work on the trans stuff, and most of the therapy was over my bipolar/depression.
After that, at 23, I wanted to do it again but I had no where to turn and years and years of guilt where on top of me. So, I started and then stopped. I cut myself sometimes two or more times daily -- I felt that I had no options and no where to turn. I grew a goatee and tried at least looking like a guy.
After more years of therapy, I eventually was able to have enough of a self-esteem to stand up a bit and then start making friends. I worked hard at making a social network and getting to know people. I also gathered a ton of information.
In 2006 I started my transition. I'm a very different person now, and a lot more confident. I don't expect that all of my issues are going to vanish over night -- but I have been working hard on them with my doctors (I actually see two psychiatrists, and soon a therapist again).
So yeah, puberty was very difficult. I've been down to my very lowest in life before, in fact, even death for a few minutes -- but now I am here, finally feeling like I'm living and being who I am. That's something very special to me and something that cannot be taken away from me. I fought a lot way to get here, and I'm still fighting. But life now, over all, is happier. I've never been happy in my life until now. I never even understood what happy even meant until now.
--natalie
Posted on: November 10, 2007, 09:00:05 PM
oh, and another reason at 23 I waited, because at that time I had TD (tardive dyskinesia), and from the meds, my liver was to the point of failure. I couldn't take HRT -- hell, I could hardly feel myself, walk out the door, talk, or write on a piece of paper (think Parkensons, which is like TD).
Amazingly enough, my liver regenerated. I went from having blood tested every two weeks to monitor me, to being free and clear. My body was so destroyed. My doctor at the time had to even lay it out that if my body was to continue to fall apart on me, I might have to make end-of-life plans. Yeah, it was that bad.
But, my body healed. My TD pretty much vanished -- although I'm still clumsy and I'm known for spilling drinks on myself all the time, just because my motor reactions are still not 100%. Still the doctor was impressed that over all the TD isn't very apparent and I can actually function normally, because people who are as far as I was, generally don't heal up as well.
So, yeah, I'm pretty lucky. People say I look younger than I actually am. People look at my older pictures and swear I get younger every year I live. I say that I'm reclaiming the years I lost, so that I can live them the right way this time.
