For me dysphoria is just knowing that I will never be cis. I will never have the body that I believe I belong in and people that have known me all of my life will never see me as a man. I will never be able to experience boyhood. That is really something that haunts my dreams. I dream about being a little boy and just being able to hang out with the guys and be seen as a boy. I've accepted that I will never be able to experience these things, but it still kills me everyday...


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For me, it was persistently feeling small, insignificant and weak. It was looking in the mirror when I was younger and coming to the conclusion that I was a parasite controlling someone else's body.
I struggled to be seen as a woman and greatly suffered both socially and privately.

I hated the way my voice sounded (not high-pitched but certainly female), I hated my breasts, I hated that my friendships with men were nearly always tarnished by some sexual undertones on their behalf, and I hated that I was held back from so many opportunities in life.

The last six months I waited to start HRT and have surgery were the longest, hardest months of my life thus far.
These days, I don't really experience dysphoria all that often. My lower half feels incomplete and I frequently waffle back and forth on wanting surgery (the small risk of losing any and all sexual sensation horrifies me) but it's not something I dwell on often.

Quote from: meatwagon on February 22, 2017, 09:48:22 PM
the easiest way for me to describe it would be to say that it makes me feel like i'm not a real person.  because in a way, i'm really not.  i sort of float around feeling like an orb of consciousness with no body, and it makes my whole life feel like a dream sometimes.  but that's better than acknowledging that which i can't change for now, because when i'm forced to do that, it doesn't go so well.  any little thing can do it.  being called "she" all the time at work and at home, you'd think i'd manage to desensitize myself to that, but i can't.  every one stings like an ice barb piercing through that little grey bubble of dissociation i'd constructed around myself and reminding me of what i look like, what i am, and how i'm seen by everyone.  it reminds me that i am seen by everyone, whereas i'm normally content to pretend that i'm not by avoiding face-to-face interaction as much as possible.  lonely as i get, i prefer not to draw attention to myself in public.  i don't want people to see "this" and think it's "me".   
no one ever hears my voice because i don't have one.  there's one attached to this body, but it's not mine and i use it as sparingly as possible because i can't stand the sound of it.  i like to cling to the lie that maybe i'll "pass" as long as i don't open my mouth, but with the exception of a couple of older folks who saw me from behind and corrected themselves as soon as i turned around, i know it's not really true.  i avoid speaking up, talking over anyone, or calling to anyone from a distance just so they--and mostly i--will hear as little of that voice as i can get away with. 
there are very few parts of this body that i feel are truly mine, that i feel are "real".  that little scar on my nostril, that's mine.  the two big toes that are completely different shapes despite being the same size, those are mine.  so are the broken finger and the big, crooked teeth.  and i'm fine with those things.  i might be the only one who doesn't look at them and think they need to be "corrected", but they're among the few things i feel are part of the real me that i can see when i look in the mirror and they don't bother me at all.  i prefer not to spend too much time in the mirror, because when i do look, i have the bitter temptation to turn to the side and see the shapes and curves that everyone else sees. 
sometimes the little grey bubble bursts altogether.  a lot of things can do it and i don't always know what those things will be, but it's included hearing someone gush about how a male family member is so handy (and they're so glad to have a man they can call on to do man things), hearing coworkers discuss their opinions of "transgenders" (and how they're basically all mentally ill men in dresses, but they don't judge!!), being forced to choose the ladies' room in a situation where there was no "family restroom" and there were a lot of men in the men's room, and hearing biological men complain about issues they have with their appearance--things i'd kill to have if only it meant actually being seen as a man at all.  that's when i get short of breath, my eyes start watering, my hands start shaking, i become uncomfortably aware of myself again, and i have to go and hide away so no one will see me cry and panic like a stupid child.  even when i'm "over" it, i'm not really over it.  i can regain my composure within minutes and be back out there doing whatever it is i need to do, but it will be hours before i'm able to smile and laugh and forget myself again.
and as one can imagine, the effects of this dysphoria reach into all aspects of my life and cripple me.  physical relationships just aren't possible, and even friendships are restrained, save for the tiny few who were there before-during-and-after the whole "coming out" business.  people think i'm "just quiet" or "just shy" or that i just don't have a lot of confidence.  and while i don't have any confidence, shyness is not my problem.  i'm dying of loneliness, and i'm being held back by this awful feeling i can't get rid of.  and i feel like, even if i finally get to transition and do away with it, i'll never be normal.  sometimes i worry that it'll be too late.  sometimes i worry that it won't be enough.  but even then, i'd give anything to have it, just the same.  i try not to think about it most of the time, but when i do end up thinking about it, it's almost all i can think about.  and it makes me feel crushed, empty, and hopeless.

sorry if that went on too long or on too much of a tangent :^P  i haven't had any way to really express or explain my feelings about dysphoria for a long time, so it kind of became a jumbled mess.

That wasn't too long. You expressed yourself extremely well and have described what so many of us feel but struggle to put into words. Thank you for that. I understand what you are experiencing and am sorry you have to go through that. For me, I find it helpful to post on this forum. People here understand.

Jessie

Quote from: Stone Magnum on February 22, 2017, 11:47:55 PM
For me, it was persistently feeling small, insignificant and weak. It was looking in the mirror when I was younger and coming to the conclusion that I was a parasite controlling someone else's body.
I struggled to be seen as a woman and greatly suffered both socially and privately.

I hated the way my voice sounded (not high-pitched but certainly female), I hated my breasts, I hated that my friendships with men were nearly always tarnished by some sexual undertones on their behalf, and I hated that I was held back from so many opportunities in life.

I can relate to a lot of this. I think that dysphoria for me manifests as extreme insecurity, low self-esteem, high self-doubt. I get really quiet when I'm like this, too. As a schoolkid I was practically mute. If only I had a dollar for every time somebody said, "Don't you ever talk?"

But put me in boy mode and I'm invincible. I'm the boss. I don't just talk, I banter. I laugh. I flip people off without a second thought. It's a different world. I even feel more alert, more in my body, if that makes sense. I don't normally feel like I'm dissociating, but I feel exceptionally tuned in during these times.

And then I remember I still want to be pretty, for some reason.

I also get bodily discomfort with my chest, but I'm not sure it's severe enough to classify as dysphoria. Binding does trigger invincible mode, though. Maybe it's more related than I realized? I really have no idea.

Quote from: Jessie007 on February 23, 2017, 01:20:29 AM
That wasn't too long. You expressed yourself extremely well and have described what so many of us feel but struggle to put into words. Thank you for that. I understand what you are experiencing and am sorry you have to go through that. For me, I find it helpful to post on this forum. People here understand.

Jessie

Thanks; it's good to have people to share with who can understand and share their own stories, too.

For me, Dysphoria manifests as low self esteem and self doubt, as well as hate over being born with the wrong genitals. Some days I can't stand looking at myself in the mirror, but I feel that the longer I stay on HRT, the better I'll feel, which has been true so far.