I see this word used a lot, along with depression. What are the many ways this shows up for people? For me, at one level, it's an acute discomfort when I am presenting as male, or if I'm. It transitioning as fast as I would like. I'm wondering if some of the emotional issues I've had throughout my life fall under this as well. I've struggled with confusion on my sexual preferences, self hatred, lack of self worth, etc. is that dysphoria, too?


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

I didn't think I had dysphoria. Then someone pointed out that changing my body signals at least some discomfort with myself. 

Hugs, Devlyn

Quote from: Mikaela on May 12, 2017, 11:06:10 AM
I see this word used a lot, along with depression. What are the many ways this shows up for people? For me, at one level, it's an acute discomfort when I am presenting as male, or if I'm. It transitioning as fast as I would like. I'm wondering if some of the emotional issues I've had throughout my life fall under this as well. I've struggled with confusion on my sexual preferences, self hatred, lack of self worth, etc. is that dysphoria, too?


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Apparently, the word dysphoria comes from Greek, 'dusphoros', which means 'hard to bear'.

And the way I perceive dysphoria is exactly like that. An oppressive feeling, a sense of "something being very wrong". It can sometimes manifest as anxiety (sense of "something really wrong is going to happen really soon, I'm screwd and can do nothing about it"), sometimes as depression (sense of "there's no purpose in life"), very often a mix of both. It sometimes peaks, but it's always present, at times deceivingly silent... Sometimes I would think it was gone for good. But that simple thought triggered the return of the sense of incrongruity. For many years, I just felt it... but had no idea that it had a direct link with a gender incongruity. Don't get me wrong: I have what is now known as "trans thoughts" since I was 4 years-old, so in retrospective the incrongruity has been there for decades. But as I grew up, I was taught by my family (reinforced by the binary society at large) to feel nothing but shame about it. And that psychological muzzle was what caused me the discomfort, the dysphoria, for most of my life. I now see that my interior life was a mess because of this...

Now that I started transition, I still feel dysphoria, but it's different in various ways, both quantitatively and qualitatively. Now, compared to before, I don't feel dysphoric so often; I'd say that I feel mostly zen, with precious moments of a delightful euphoria! And now I KNOW where the dysphoria comes from and can do something about it. It might take months and even years... But I know what I have and what to do about it. That's my humble experience...

Hugs, Sarah

Sent from my SM-T810 using Tapatalk

Thank you for your excellent description. I wonder if that's how everyone experiences it...


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

I would say the standard definition of feeling something is wrong is a bit off for me, it's more like a pervasive depression stemming from constantly eyeing fun things and telling myself I can't because I'm male, and people will look down on me if I do. Worst at the store, but also in leisure activities, social scenes, and the like.

It's essentially paralyzing because I can't just relax and act on impulse like other people do. Transition for me is as much for "them" as it is for me, but I'll take no small amount of satisfaction from having those clothes I've been eyeing actually fit in an attractive way either...

"the winter of my discontent"

Quote from: Jane Emily on May 12, 2017, 02:56:43 PM
"the winter of my discontent"

... Made glorious summer by this sun... 😉

Sent from my SM-T810 using Tapatalk

Hi Mikaela,

According to Psychology today.
Definition. Gender dysphoria (formerly gender identity disorder) is defined by strong, persistent feelings of identification with the opposite gender and discomfort with one's own assigned sex that results in significant distress or impairment.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/conditions/gender-dysphoria

   For me it was pretty subtle. It was those thoughts of wishing I was born a girl or could be a woman I had ever since childhood. It was the borrowing/stealing/buying of female clothes to wear in secret all my life. It was the shame/guilt/remorse caused by behaving it such ways. It was looking at my nether region and prominent Adams apple and wishing they were not there. It was my envy of all things female. It was seeing a well dressed or shapely woman and thinking not of how nice she looked but the wishing that I was she. It was ordering illegal HRT meds and taking them without a second thought.
  I was lucky in that I did not suffer the depression or extreme hate of my body that others have. I do believe it played a part in a lot of my anger, insecurities and social shortcomings. It was directly responsible for my crossdressing and indirectly responsible for my alcoholism/drug abuse/suicidal thoughts and my failures at being a father/ husband/ man.
   And to think I was worried when I went to talked to a psychiatrist that they would tell me I didn't suffer from gender dysphoria.  They did.

  That was my dysphoria

Hugs,
    Laurie

Wow, Laura. That's fantastic. It is what I was looking for. I'm looking back at my own past with new eyes, and realizing my "weirdness" was actually dysphoria. I mean, how can a man tell his wife, a year ago, that he would happily trade in his balls for a nice rack. And mean it. And at the same time NOT get that he is a trans woman. I'm doing a lot of head shaking. All my life I knew it, but would not let it surface. But I can honestly say that if, at any time in my life, a fairy godmother had appeared before me and offered, with a shake of her wand, to turn me into a woman, I would have jumped at the chance, without hesitation. How weird is it that I couldn't see it before!!


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Quote from: Mikaela on May 12, 2017, 04:49:26 PM
Wow, Laura. That's fantastic. It is what I was looking for. I'm looking back at my own past with new eyes, and realizing my "weirdness" was actually dysphoria. I mean, how can a man tell his wife, a year ago, that he would happily trade in his balls for a nice rack. And mean it. And at the same time NOT get that he is a trans woman. I'm doing a lot of head shaking. All my life I knew it, but would not let it surface. But I can honestly say that if, at any time in my life, a fairy godmother had appeared before me and offered, with a shake of her wand, to turn me into a woman, I would have jumped at the chance, without hesitation. How weird is it that I couldn't see it before!!

Mikaela,
 
  Don't feel bad about it. It took me 64 years to make the discovery that I was a trans-woman and had this gender dysphoria. Before that time I thought I was just a crossdresser and that was all. It took me years to finally accept that much and think it was enough.
   That my dear is gender dysphoria at work.

  Hugs,
    Laurie

Like so many others, it is only in hindsight that I am aware of how pervasive the dysphoria was in my previous life.  Only since going full-time (three weeks ago) am I really starting to feel the difference.

Not having to put on that disguise regularly, I suddenly realize how much like a suit of armour it was.  It protected me, but it also numbed me.  That numbness was part of the dysphoria.  But you can't feel numbness.  It is only when it is gone that you can be aware that it had been there.

My sense of not fitting in, of being different from other men was part of it: the feeling that everyone else knew the "rules" except me.  Now, it's like, Duh!, of course that was part of it, but at the time, even when I was starting to investigate whether I might be trans, I could not have identified that as gender dysphoria.

I think my shyness was part of it.  It is too soon to get a feel for how my personality will develop, but I am feeling a lot free-er to interact with people.

I used to feel resentment that women acted like I was someone to be afraid of.  Now, I not only understand that fear, but I realize that the wrongness I felt about it was part of the dysphoria.

So many things...

Oh, yes. Many times in my life I have noticed women's fear come up when encountering me as a stranger, and I was always appalled at that. I also recall in high school being almost violently repelled at the way boys would talk about girls in locker rooms and such. I simply could not tolerate that behavior at a guy level. I still won't.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

It could, or it could be clinical depression. Or both.

Quote from: Laurie on May 12, 2017, 05:03:57 PM
Mikaela,
 
  Don't feel bad about it. It took me 64 years to make the discovery that I was a trans-woman and had this gender dysphoria. Before that time I thought I was just a crossdresser and that was all. It took me years to finally accept that much and think it was enough.
   That my dear is gender dysphoria at work.

  Hugs,
    Laurie

I share quite a bit of that, Laurie.

Funny thing is that I was aware, for many years, of the existence of people who were not male nor female. I was perhaps 14 years-old when I "accidentally" watched an erotic movie which starred what is now known as an intersex person, with the body of a woman and external genitalia of a man. I couldn't care less about the male genitalia, but was fascinated by the rest of her body and kept asking myself: why wasn't I born "at least" as that woman? If I only knew what the future would bring... 😏

And then, also during adolescence, I learned about people who actually changed their sex of birth. I knew about Roberta Close and Christine Jorgensen. I admired and envied them...

But despite my awareness, such a change was so unimaginably daunting that I didn't dare to even think about taking steps towards it. I did fantasize about it. A lot. 😶 And even when simply imagining, I couldn't help but feel ashamed. Because that's what I had been taught by my family and society since a very early age, when I first ventured and got caught trying to step into the forbidden world of girls...

So I think the genesis of my gender dysphoria lies in that permanent conflict between that persistent, everything but explicit, "instinct towards becoming a women" (for the lack of a better term) and years of learned and reinforced homophobia and transphobia.

Into adulthood, my way of dealing with this conflict was, like you, saying to myself that I was "just" a crossdresser. I reasoned that this was "just" a form of kinkiness, totally bearable and somewhat acceptable if kept private...  And then, I began shaving my body... Intermittently taking hormones... Feeling depressed whenever I had to stop... That couldn't possibly be "just" crossdressing, could it? Deep inside, something didn't feel right with that explanation. But until recently, I just didn't feel ready to accept the truth, to come to terms with who I am, who I've always been.

So for most of my life, I basically thought I was an equation with no solution. Guess what... Finally, after 44 years, I happened to have solved the equation. Eureka! 😉

Hugs, Sarah

Sent from my SM-T810 using Tapatalk

Let's see, some things I remember
At a young age:
Always attempting to fit in with the boys but it never being "natural". Just trying to not stand out so much as to get picked on. Wishing I could try doing some of what the girls were doing. In first grade I remember that being jump rope. Having friends but not being able to really associate with them. Always feeling different, out of place, the odd duckling.

From the early beginnings of puberty, always feeling my body was weird. Feeling ashamed of my body in general. Afraid I looked girlish and I'd get made fun of but always wishing. Looking in the mirror and imagining me being a real girl. Wishing to God that I'd wake up a girl. Dreaming that I was a girl often. Completely confused as I was attracted to girls. Having never allowed myself to make real friendships with girls I was totally awkward socially. Quiet kept mostly to myself.

Adolescents, still always a sort of outsider. I felt like a poser to all. No one ever really knew the real me inside. Still socially awkward. Never dated. I would look at adult women with lust but feel disgusted when guys talked about girls the way they do. Walking down the hall in high school a guy reached out and grabbed a girls butt. She jumped. I was as mad for her as she was that this guy thought he could just touch her because he wanted to. All his buddies laughed.

After high school I spent most of the next decade doing nothing but work and home. I couldn't find a way to be social with others. When I saw an attractive woman at a store my first thought was she's hot, followed by why can't I be like her. I would see women with kids or with their guy and feel so sad that I was missing that life. Then I'd choke it up and say to myself, there's no point in these feelings, I am born a man. I felt I had no options. Sometimes I would wake up crying at night because I wanted a baby so badly. My sleeping mind would let my emotions out of their cage.

Other triggers I felt over the years, movies and TV shows where a trans person was portrayed. As a kid staying up late one summer I watch the comedy show "Soap" some. It was a spoof of soap operas. There was a guy who was going to get a sex change operation. There's an 80s movie where at one point the characters go to a friends families house and the dad there is transsexual. "Crocodile Dundee 2" grabs a cross dresser/trans person in the crotch and shouts, that's a man! These media images burnt into my mind. These portrayals left me feeling that I had no option in life.

Wasn't going to post at all today and wasn't going to post here anyway, there are so many examples already. But Josie brought something up, well I will get back to that.

For me the discomfort or unease has always been there. There were times when it was much worse. It was accompanied by guilt for feeling that way at all. What's wrong with me? The times in my life when the things that I used to distract myself were either not enough or not available were the worst. Luckily those times were few until the last time which lasted for years and led up to HRT. For me it felt like a wave crashing over me, a need so strong that I couldn't breathe. Pools and beaches would always trigger it. Seeing everyone so comfortable with who they are. I was fit until I hit 40 so that wasn't it. Not a family thing either. The men in my family lost their shirt in the spring and didn't find it again till fall. I had never gone without a shirt. Finally in my mid teens I was shamed into taking my shirt off while in the pool or swimming hole, but it went back on as soon as I got out. Seeing the girls made me ache because I knew I could never be like them and I hated my body. And hated myself for feeling that way. It never bothered me when the guys would go on about a beautiful girl, not from a dysphoria standpoint anyway. God the objectification drove me nuts though. But, and this is terrible, when they talked about a girl who not very pretty but had a good shape it would trigger it. I knew without a doubt that I would give my life to be her for one week. Or even a day. I guess the truly beautiful women were like my unicorn. Wistful, who doesn't want a unicorn?, but keep it real honey. There were other triggers but those are the ones that stand out.

Now to what Josie said. Talking about Soap.
Please don't judge too harshly or think that I am an absolute freak.
I don't watch horror movies unless forced to. I will hate, for a time, the person or persons that make me watch one. So in 1980 something, doing a camp in sleepover in the neighbors basement (sleeping bags, tents made of blankets and their dad) that had cable. It took my best friend, her sister, her brother, my brother and her dad to talk me into watching a horror and I was fully prepared to hate them forever. When I didn't speak to them the rest of the night they were not surprised but they were wrong as to the reason why.

The movie was Sleepaway Camp. I will try to explain what that movie did to me but I will fall short. The whole movie was normal, horrific horror, then came the end. I understood, in a way, the inner trauma that led to it if not ungodly violence that was her outlet. We were opposites in a way I think. I think the she was still a boy inside but showing the world what she was forced to be. It made me sick that I wanted to be her so bad. I could be a girl and no one would ever know. I could feel comfortable in a bathing suit or dress. I wanted it and utterly loathed myself for it. God I am not that twisted am I? I don't want to hurt anyone. What's wrong with me? How can I want to be a monster?

Anyway, 2 months later I tried to fix God's little joke. Ended up in the hospital for a while then the mental hospital for even longer. Where I was told repeatedly that I was a boy, it was wrong to think that I could be a girl. No one would ever believe that I was a girl no matter how I dressed. Eventually I just made the noises that they wanted to hear to shut them up. Soon after the "doctor" told my grandmother that I felt that way because of me being molested for so long. To which my grandma called him a quack, that I was always like that and I had only been molested for the last 4 years. Then she grabbed my arm drug me to my room, threw my stuff at me grabbed my ear and drug me to the car. I never saw Doctor Quack again, though the state did force her to take me to therapy for a while.

The strangest things can have an impact on us. I hated myself for a very long time.

Thank you, Michelle. I'm glad you posted.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

My dysphoria was mostly about my body.  Clothes and social role are not much of a factor for me.  Makeup and wigs do nothing for me.

I get along wonderfully in women's spaces.  I have been a member of the League of Women voters for decades, and I attend a water aerobics class that is mostly women. If there is a family or party event, where the men and women go in different directions, I'm always with the women.  It seems I don't need to look or act like a woman to be accepted into their groups.   On the other hand I would been very strange in an all male group.  In fact I would never join, or would leave in short order.

What bothered me was the lack of breasts, body hair other male characteristics.  It just felt wrong.  Looking at my body in the mirror after a bath it seemed all wrong.

Ten years ago I was diagnosed as hypogonadic.  My doctor actually said that if I didn't take testosterone "we're looking at a sex change here".  My heart leapt at those words but I agreed to begin testosterone injections.  Well thanks to the action of an enzyme called aromatase, much of the testosterone converted to estradiol.  Within six months I was growing breasts and had softening skin.

Over a period of years I cut back and then abandoned the testosterone and started up with a combination of Estrogel and Estradiol Valerate injections.  Ten years later my body has feminized to a marvelous extent. Of course I'm still bald. My typical summer wear is a polo shirt and shorts. If I wore a hat you might mistake me for a lesbian.  It's pretty obvious that I have large breasts and I'm not embarrassed by them.  When I sleep and hug myself they feel right and proper.

Most men who discovered they were growing breasts would run screaming to the doctor, demanding that something be done about them. 

My dysphoria?   It's almost totally gone.  My body is very close to what I needed it to be.  I'm content.  Going further down the trans path just isn't what I need. 

As an aside, Psychologist Anne Vitale has written that in some transwomen, it's testosterone that causes the dysphoria. I think in my case that is true.  I operate quite well on estrogen.   

Quote from: Randi on May 13, 2017, 04:37:41 PM
My dysphoria was mostly about my body.  Clothes and social role are not much of a factor for me.  Makeup and wigs do nothing for me.

That describes me also.  Before HRT cross dressing and makeup was important though as it was my only outlet.  Now, not so much.  My hair is important to my self image though.  Since I'm fortunate to have never had any hair loss, wigs are not a factor.

When I was younger I knew I didn't fit in with all the male stuff.  But I was a good mimic and through force of will made it all work.  So, outwardly I got by very well all the while feeling a huge disconnect inside.  That disconnect just kept building year after year until it reached the point that coping mechanisms no longer worked and death seemed a good option.

QuoteAs an aside, Psychologist Anne Vitale has written that in some transwomen, it's testosterone that causes the dysphoria. I think in my case that is true.  I operate quite well on estrogen.

That is true for me also.  Before, I had pretty high T even into my 50's and I hated life.  Now I feel great.  I may have had some testosterone insensitivity going on though.  Some of the symptoms seem to describe me, but I'm not really sure and now it doesn't matter. :-)



Conform and be dull. —James Frank Dobie, The Voice of the Coyote

For me it's a major discomfort.  Like I'm stuck in a situation I don't want to be in.  Usually it leads to a great deal of anxiety where my mind runs a million mile an hour thinking of all the things that are wrong with me and need to change.  Often times it becomes self-defeatist where I start to panic that I'll never successfully get to a physical image that I'm comfortable with.  At times it gets so bad that I have an actual panic attack and simply can't breathe.

I've also had it manifest itself as depression. Usually this happens when I see women younger than I and realize how much of my life I've missed out on. Playing this act of being a male for 39 years killed a lot of opportunities for me. There are so many things that women get to experience as they grow up and mature as adults that I'll never get to experience. Those thoughts become heavy and depressive and I usually shut down.

It's gotten better since HRT, the panic attacks are fewer and farther between.  The depression isn't as bad most of the time. I am a little more easily able to focus on the excitement I have for the future.