Tag Archive | Dysphoria

Is this hell?

CN: christianity, abuse, trans stuff

Like, sometimes I wonder if I’m in hell. See, one of the things I was taught, or should I say indoctrinated into, is that God’s presence is absent in hell. And I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in gods. But maybe that’s because they really don’t exist on this plane of existence and I’m being punished. I mean, like, why else would I have to go thru the dysphoria, intense chronic pain, and all the rest. Sometimes I wonder if all the abuse is just background that’s inflicted upon me as another form of torture.

So, I don’t actually believe this is the case. I’m not that narcissistic. But yeah, I got some mental issues and hang ups left from when I was Catholic. That shit is toxic, y’all.

Advertisements

Missed dose

Fuck. Never again.

That was worse than quitting smoking.

Irritable, annoyed, felt like I had the flu.

I felt dead inside again.

Mirror distortions happened too.

I ended up hurting people I care about. I won’t forgive myself for that anytime soon.

I will always, always, always carry spares with me from now on.

Lesson learned.

The hard way.

Never again.

So, I strarted HRT last night

SEE TITLE.

Ok now that you’re up to speed, I took 100Mg spiro and 2 mg estrofem. Its bring all sorts of dysphoric feelings to the forefront. It’s stressing me out, and keeping me from sleeping. I woke up early today. After 3.5 hrs of sleep. I’m happy I started, but I’m freaking the fuck out. I’ve wanted this so bad for so long, and now it’s real. But my thoughts are killing me.  I’m scared. And I don’t know if it will be alright.

 

And if anyone want’s to know how you get Spiro and E without a Dx/Rx, just let me know, and I’ll send you an email.

 

If you want to see me take my first dose, let me know and I’ll email you a link. All I ask is that you don’t share it around.

 

Emily, finally with the right hormones.

long hair and dysphoria

The last time my hair was this long, I was in junior high. I don’t know why I cut it. Oh yeah, the high school I went to didn’t allow boys to have long hair. I’ve told myself so many times that I look horrible with long hair. The problem was never that I looked bad. It was an excuse. Before I realized I was trans, anything that coded as for girls, on me, made me hate myself because I just saw a guy.  Now, sometimes I see a woman in the mirror and smile. Other times, I still see that guy. And I hate it.

But on low dysphoria days, I can say, the guy in the mirror is attractive. I’d fuck a guy that looked like that.

So much for that autogynephilia diagnoses. It’s funny being a pan trans girl sometimes.

My trip to my parent’s house wasn’t all sunshine and roses.

My parents did something that hurt me deeply, and I can’t tell them about it.

They had me take pictures with them with these “wax lips“. They have taken these pictures with most of the other members of my family. Now this might not sound that bad, but let me explain why this hurt me. These lips are exaggerated feminine lips, and the supposed comedy comes from the exaggeration on women and the femininity on men. So what this amounts to is a joke on exaggerated femininity on men. A man in a dress joke. A femmephobic, transphobic joke. And they want me to have a happy expression while they did this.

 

I hate having my picture taken, I always have.

I can’t stand looking at pictures of myself for the same reasons I can’t stand mirrors: dysphoria.

You want to make a transphobic joke out of me and femininity, and expect me to be happy about it.

Well then,

FUCK YOU

 

And I can’t say anything about it for several reasons.

  1. They’ve gotten pretty much everyone in my family to do it.
  2. It’s my mom’s 60th birthday. That’s the reason I went up there.
  3. I can’t refuse without getting into a huge fight and explaining why I don’t want to do it, outing myself as trans* in the process.

 

I can’t ruin my mom’s 60th birthday by getting in a huge fight and revealing that I’m transgender.

So I had to bite the fucking bullet. I hate having to pretend to be a straight male.

The two flavors of dysphoria.

There are two types of gender dysphoria.

1.Social dysphoria.
2.Body dysphoria, also known as Gender Dissonance#.

#Credit for this term goes to Julia Serano from Whipping Girl.#

 

**I am about to be speaking from my own perspective, and this does not apply to all Trans* people. I will be using myself as an example.**

 

They are very different experiences.

When I am experiencing social dysphoria, It hurts to be treated as male. “Sir,” is like a slap in the face. Having to be, “one of the guys,” is pure fucking hell. Just being seen as male is painful in its own right. Dressing in specifically male coded clothing hurts, not because women and men wear drastically different things, but because you are intentionally putting on something that will tell people that you are male, and that you should be treated as such. It is double plus bad because you are telling other people to treat you as something you are not. Not that gender roles are anything but bullshit, but I do not want to be referred to as a man because I am not one.

When I am experiencing gender dissonance, it is my very body that betrays me. My voice, not being in a female register is incongruent with how my voice is in my head. It is alien to me. My facial hair is repulsive to me. And I am very unlucky, because even after I shave, you can see a shadow. I can’t stand having any body hair, except for pubes, because, lets face it, bush is sexy (on any gender){I know, that is just my own personal preference, and someone can be sexy, pubes or no pubes}. I should have boobs. Sometimes, when I am just waking up, I experience phantom breasts. Why the fuck don’t I have boobs? I won’t even talk about genital dysphoria. Looking in the mirror is pure fucking hell because I see a man staring back at me where a woman should be. It is an attractive man, but it isn’t me.

Body dysphoria is why I hate certain forms of sex positive feminism that stress body acceptance. I’ve tried to accept this male body. I can’t. It isn’t because I’m fat,(I’m not.) It isn’t because I can’t see someone attractive in the mirror. It’s because I’m not male and I am forced to live in  a male body. So you can take your body acceptance and shove it. You just make me feel worse about myself, when it is something that is not my fault. Instead of shaming someone for their body, they are unintentionally shaming me because I got the wrong one. For feminists who are usually pretty good to the trans* community, they really fucked this one up.

How not to talk to trans* people.

I recently had a little exchange on my blog with a commenter, John A. David. This is an example of  how not to talk to someone who is trans*. Some of his comments have been edited by me. See this post for explanation.

First, John said this:

 By the way, I am not pissed at all, actually I felt nothing but one thing that you are deeply troubled. I get it why you seem frustrated with your troubles, so do not think I talking about things I do not know. As a teenager I struggled with sexual orientation

No, you do not know what you are talking about. Struggling with sexual orientation is nothing like the hell that is dysphoria. Do you have any idea what it is like to despise the sound of your own voice? So I responded to him thusly:

You have no fucking clue what gender dysphoria is like. Do not claim that you do. It is not like struggling to accept your sexual orientation. I am seriously enraged by what you wrote there. I am trying very hard to remain civil.

Jackass responded thusly:

 Yeah, may be I do not. I also do have cancer but I can still see the pain reflected. Everyone has his own demons to face, you have yours, I have mine. Can you feel what I feel, no way. So in that way no one is different. But my comment was not insulting if that’s how you took it. I only wanted to say, I can see why you are upset. It must be very discomforting for you.

So, John not only didn’t apologize for presumptuously comparing his struggle with sexual orientation to my gender dysphoria, he condescendingly told me not to be offended by it. Well then jackass, how about you go fuck yourself.

Midori Skies (love the name by the way) responded to John:

 Um, wow. That’s even worse than the “I’m sorry if I offended you” brand of not-pology. Your intent to not be insulitng in writing your earlier comment does not somehow magically nullify the offensiveness of your saying that you understand gender dysphoria because you “struggled with sexual orientation”. You do not understand what gender dysphoria is like. There’s no maybe about it.

Thank you. Seriously, Thank you.♥

John came back with:

 I never said I understand gender dysphoria, so I am not sure why would you repeatedly bring this.up. I said, I know how its frustrating when one is struggling with an issue, which for me was sexual orientation

A. Yes, the fuck you did. ” I get it why you seem frustrated with your troubles, so do not think I talking about things I do not know.”

B. Midori Skies brought it back up.

C. It isn’t struggling with an issue. It is looking in the mirror and seeing a man where a woman should be. It is about your sense of self. It is something you can’t escape. And after I transition I have to look forward to the fact that 1 in 12 trans women are murdered. 42% of transgender folkss attempt suicide before transition. Many do not survive to transition. So go fuck yourself, you condescending jackass.

John finished up with this Gem

 anyway, I apologize again for the misunderstanding.

Let me reword this: I’m sorry that you didn’t understand me.

Problems with this:

1. Not taking any responsibility for his fuck up.
2. Blaming me for not understanding what he meant.
3. Even what he meant was extremely condescending.

So John, The only other thing I want to hear from you is a real apology. Anything else will be blocked.