I'm having a major low time in my life....
I guess it's good that I called the doctor to see about getting on antidepressants again. My appointment's on Thursday. In the morning. Yuck. And it will probably cost me assloads of money cause I haven't met my deductible yet for my insurance. And with my luck, he'll order a blood test before giving me anything. Which is a very cautious medical thing to do, which I suppose would be good, but I don't like them and I don't want to pay for it. So I hope he just hands me some Paxil like everyone else.
Because as much as I hate to admit it, it did do SOMETHING when I used to take it. It didn't feel like the drugs were helping at the time... but now that I've not had anything for a year and a half... things are definitely worse. Which is a combination of some intense situational things... but maybe I could cope better if I took some of the chemical part out of it. Cause that's part of it too.
What's really bad is that I've been really, really down about my gender identity. I can't seem to forget about it for more than two seconds. Which has to be a record low for me. It's just really starting to get to me how I've sat here and done nothing for... 7 years now? I've known since I was 14, and granted, that was a little young to do anything, although I know there are guys who've transitioned that young. But I told mom two years ago, and I STILL haven't told my dad, and I STILL haven't DONE anything about it. It's getting to be such an open wound on my psyche, I guess... Cause it just bothers me every day. EVERY DAY. Little things strangers and people not in the know do, completely unintentionally, that aren't even harassing me for looking one way or another, are getting to me. For example. I went in to work the other day, and I walk into the back room, to be greeted by a coworker calling me by my full, legal first name. I don't USE that name anymore, for good reason. I use a shorter, more gender neutral form (though granted, it's female leaning and I hate that, but it's BETTER). She had no right to use it. It's NOT on my nametag, it's NOT what everyone calls me and she hasn't got a right to even KNOW it, and I don't know how she found out. (It's not like my bosses don't know, they have my paperwork, someone must have spread it around.) So I greeted her coldly. I tried, I really tried, to contain my anger. She quickly figured out I was angry that she had used my full name, but I doubt she has any concept of just how angry I was. And I suspect because of how she is, that she will attempt to use it again in that "teasing" way people have. I'm often greeted by several of my older (than I am) female coworkers as "Miss [work name]". I can't say anything. I'm not out, there. But I hate it. HATE it. I'm not 'missy', 'ma'am', 'miss', 'young lady', 'ms.' anything. I'm NOT.
On the plus side, I've had a couple customers who thought I was a 'sir'. It's even happened in front of my coworkers, who haven't said anything. Yet. I guess they don't want to embarass me or the customer. Whatever.
Then today I went out to Friendly's to eat, with my mate. When the waitress dropped off our drinks, she said something with "you guys" in it, then looks at me and quickly babbles about how she doesn't mean "guys" specifically, but 'you guys' generally, and how she has to keep from saying that now cause she offended some other lady before.
Yeah, I'm offended NOW. Shut up, bitch.
She doesn't know, she can't have meant it badly, but I hate her for it anyway. If she had just said "you guys" and left it at that, it would have been FINE. I woudlnt' have even thought I had passed. Because EVERYBODY uses "you guys" in the general "you [genderless people]" way these days. So she should have just shut it and left.
And I just spend all this time WORRYING. I worry about how I'm going to pay for all this - surgery, hormones, therapy, doctor visits, binders. I worry about how I'm going to find my next job, cause I dont' think I can transition at this one. I worry about how hard it's gonna be to come out to everyone I need to come out to, I worry about how much the surgery will hurt, what it'll look like after, if I'll lose all sensation in my chest forever, lose my nipples. I worry about changing my name, what're people going to think of it, will people laugh?
At the moment, my worry is focused on a stupid thing, except it's not stupid to me. Well, two stupid things. One is, what will happen to my voice? I love to sing, even though I don't do it professionally, or even in front of other people, to speak of. The thing is... I think it would just.. it would just kill me if I couldn't sing the parts I love anymore. If I drop too low to sing the tenor parts anymore. I don't know what I'd do, I'd lose this chunk of who I am. I mean, I can't reach the lower part of it now, so dropping a little is great... but everyone on the message boards talkinga bout their voices seem to have dropped to baritone or bass. And I'm starting out in a low range for a girl, so I'm probably screwed. What if I lost my singing voice forever? I don't know what I'd do. Which would make most people say, so transition without hormones. Others have done. But I want other things from it. I wish I could CONTROL what it would do. I want to not look girly, I want to not sound girly when I speak, but I just don't want it to drop too far. It's just not fair.
The other somewhat stupid thing is, how am I going to keep dancing? Dance is SUCH a gendered thing, it's really dumb that way. Irish dance is no different in that respect. Probably even more rigid about it than other forms. I haven't got a CLUE how I'd come out to my dance school. For one thing, those who do Irish dance tend to (at least at my school) also be catholic. Not a real great mix of things for coming out. Catholics in a gendered environment. Great. I suppose if I had to move to another school I could, but I'd have to wait till I passed. It's this stupid excuse I keep using to keep from having to do all the scary things involved in starting this... "but what will I do about dance?"
And what will I do about my voice?
It all just makes me miserable, and it's getting hard to keep on going anymore.
I ought to try to get to bed now, even though it's dangerous to try... I just end up miserable and crying myself to sleep. But I have to work in... 6 1/2 hours.
Wow, that's depressing.
Because as much as I hate to admit it, it did do SOMETHING when I used to take it. It didn't feel like the drugs were helping at the time... but now that I've not had anything for a year and a half... things are definitely worse. Which is a combination of some intense situational things... but maybe I could cope better if I took some of the chemical part out of it. Cause that's part of it too.
What's really bad is that I've been really, really down about my gender identity. I can't seem to forget about it for more than two seconds. Which has to be a record low for me. It's just really starting to get to me how I've sat here and done nothing for... 7 years now? I've known since I was 14, and granted, that was a little young to do anything, although I know there are guys who've transitioned that young. But I told mom two years ago, and I STILL haven't told my dad, and I STILL haven't DONE anything about it. It's getting to be such an open wound on my psyche, I guess... Cause it just bothers me every day. EVERY DAY. Little things strangers and people not in the know do, completely unintentionally, that aren't even harassing me for looking one way or another, are getting to me. For example. I went in to work the other day, and I walk into the back room, to be greeted by a coworker calling me by my full, legal first name. I don't USE that name anymore, for good reason. I use a shorter, more gender neutral form (though granted, it's female leaning and I hate that, but it's BETTER). She had no right to use it. It's NOT on my nametag, it's NOT what everyone calls me and she hasn't got a right to even KNOW it, and I don't know how she found out. (It's not like my bosses don't know, they have my paperwork, someone must have spread it around.) So I greeted her coldly. I tried, I really tried, to contain my anger. She quickly figured out I was angry that she had used my full name, but I doubt she has any concept of just how angry I was. And I suspect because of how she is, that she will attempt to use it again in that "teasing" way people have. I'm often greeted by several of my older (than I am) female coworkers as "Miss [work name]". I can't say anything. I'm not out, there. But I hate it. HATE it. I'm not 'missy', 'ma'am', 'miss', 'young lady', 'ms.' anything. I'm NOT.
On the plus side, I've had a couple customers who thought I was a 'sir'. It's even happened in front of my coworkers, who haven't said anything. Yet. I guess they don't want to embarass me or the customer. Whatever.
Then today I went out to Friendly's to eat, with my mate. When the waitress dropped off our drinks, she said something with "you guys" in it, then looks at me and quickly babbles about how she doesn't mean "guys" specifically, but 'you guys' generally, and how she has to keep from saying that now cause she offended some other lady before.
Yeah, I'm offended NOW. Shut up, bitch.
She doesn't know, she can't have meant it badly, but I hate her for it anyway. If she had just said "you guys" and left it at that, it would have been FINE. I woudlnt' have even thought I had passed. Because EVERYBODY uses "you guys" in the general "you [genderless people]" way these days. So she should have just shut it and left.
And I just spend all this time WORRYING. I worry about how I'm going to pay for all this - surgery, hormones, therapy, doctor visits, binders. I worry about how I'm going to find my next job, cause I dont' think I can transition at this one. I worry about how hard it's gonna be to come out to everyone I need to come out to, I worry about how much the surgery will hurt, what it'll look like after, if I'll lose all sensation in my chest forever, lose my nipples. I worry about changing my name, what're people going to think of it, will people laugh?
At the moment, my worry is focused on a stupid thing, except it's not stupid to me. Well, two stupid things. One is, what will happen to my voice? I love to sing, even though I don't do it professionally, or even in front of other people, to speak of. The thing is... I think it would just.. it would just kill me if I couldn't sing the parts I love anymore. If I drop too low to sing the tenor parts anymore. I don't know what I'd do, I'd lose this chunk of who I am. I mean, I can't reach the lower part of it now, so dropping a little is great... but everyone on the message boards talkinga bout their voices seem to have dropped to baritone or bass. And I'm starting out in a low range for a girl, so I'm probably screwed. What if I lost my singing voice forever? I don't know what I'd do. Which would make most people say, so transition without hormones. Others have done. But I want other things from it. I wish I could CONTROL what it would do. I want to not look girly, I want to not sound girly when I speak, but I just don't want it to drop too far. It's just not fair.
The other somewhat stupid thing is, how am I going to keep dancing? Dance is SUCH a gendered thing, it's really dumb that way. Irish dance is no different in that respect. Probably even more rigid about it than other forms. I haven't got a CLUE how I'd come out to my dance school. For one thing, those who do Irish dance tend to (at least at my school) also be catholic. Not a real great mix of things for coming out. Catholics in a gendered environment. Great. I suppose if I had to move to another school I could, but I'd have to wait till I passed. It's this stupid excuse I keep using to keep from having to do all the scary things involved in starting this... "but what will I do about dance?"
And what will I do about my voice?
It all just makes me miserable, and it's getting hard to keep on going anymore.
I ought to try to get to bed now, even though it's dangerous to try... I just end up miserable and crying myself to sleep. But I have to work in... 6 1/2 hours.
Wow, that's depressing.