I've noticed over the past few days that I have a harder time focussing, and this morning I had this feeling that I'm afraid. I think I'm actually terrified, but I'm using my usual defense mechanism of repressing it, so I just feel generally anxious. But it's not working very well.
I'm partway into my transition, on HRT for around 6 months, come out in most of the places I spend time in outside of work, and everyone has been supportive. My current plan is to go full-time (i.e., also at work) by the end of 2016. I'm starting to face the idea of actually trying to be seen as female, but I'm not confident I'll look like anything but an old geezer trying to dress up as a woman.
I'm terrified. What I'm aware of is the feeling that I'm not ready, that I'll never manage to do the practical stuff I need to do -- basic make-up, suitable clothes, etc. -- in time. That the whole thing is going to turn into a fiasco. I can't go back, though; it would be like climbing back onto a sinking ship. I keep thinking: I'm jumping out of a plane with no parachute, and the other people are Supergirl or Super-whatever, but I'm not: they fly but I'll just fall. Only I won't exactly die when I hit the ground, I'll just lie smashed and forever trapped in the ruins of my life.
At work, I'm have enormous problems concentrating. I have this uncontrollable urge to find stuff to distract me -- anything at all. (It doesn't help that right now the top priority at work is something where my immediate coworkers and I really can't do all that much, but we're expected to devote all our attention to it.) I've also been aware for several months that I really want to come out, even though the practical side of coming out to my company is nowhere near ready. But each day, it gets harder. Whenever I'm not concentrating on work, my mind keeps cooking up scenarios where I let something slip which ends up outing me. But every day, when I ride the elevators at work with their shiny doors in which I can see my all too aging male figure and face, I can see how unconvincing a woman I'd be.
I keep having this urge to run, I don't know where, even though my ankle still isn't fully recovered from falling on the icy sidewalk in January. It's like sitting still and doing what needs to be done is more than I can bear.
I went off my anti-depressant (Wellbutrin) a few weeks ago, but I'm not sure that's it, or whether going back on would help, since it seemed to make me a little more agitated when I first went on it.
I'm not sure I need advice (but maybe I do), maybe I just need someone (the mother I never had?) to enfold me in her arms and convince me it's going to be all right.