I Want To Be New

*This is from something I wrote in October 2011. I came across it tonight and thought I’d share.

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.
― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

I try to keep this in mind. One of my friends posted this as his status on FB. I try to keep in mind, that I am beautiful and wonderful..but I am smack in the middle of a dying/rebirth cycle. I am in a scorpio phase and this is libra time. A time of relationships, balance, harmony, justice. This transformation is major and I am so lonely. I don’t want to be alone anymore. Physically alone in this house that I am not home enough for.

Even though I know what is going on, my feelings and thoughts are dark and sad. I feel defeated and tired. I see no point in anything. I actually believe in everlasting life. I actually believe in the goodness and greatness of things now and things to come. At the very same time, at this very same time I am feeling, what’s the point? What does it matter? I could care less about school. Piano, which I love, I haven’t played in days. I am skipping class again. The 2nd piano class this semester. I am completely uninterested in actually playing though I think? it would make me feel better. The happiest I felt all weekend was when I got on my skateboard. I could care less about my math test that I need to do. I have one month to finish two and a half chapter otherwise I’ll be dropped from the class. I could care less about my stupid video project in multimedia which just tests how well we click buttons and follow instructions and is not inspiring at all. I feel like a robot monkey.

I feel so blah yucky blah even though, I am in love with a beautiful woman who loves me and I remember feeling like this at 16. I was in love, doing well in school, directing plays, had good friends and still I attempted suicide. I didn’t talk to anyone about it. I took pills. My friend had a dream that she went out to eat with a bunch of our friends and I wasn’t there. She told me about it like a week after the attempt and I had to tell her I tried to kill myself. I had to tell her I took a bunch of pills. All the pills in the medicine cabinet. But I woke up.
The next day I woke up. I felt super sick. My mom made me go to school. We were not allowed to stay home sick from school. Seriously, maybe one or two times from 7th-12th grade was I allowed to stay home sick from school. I think my mom thought if we were sick she wasn’t doing a good job or people would think she wasn’t doing a good job. Because of the insane-no-staying-home-even-if-you’re-sick-rule, I got loads of perfect attendance pins and certificates throughout my school years. But I digress. Back to the suicide attempt. No one knew that I was in that bad of shape. I had 9 weeks left til graduation. 7 weeks til I turned 17 but I was in a lot of pain. I wanted it to end. I’m glad that I didn’t end at that time. I thought I must have lived for a reason. That I wasn’t meant to die.

The 2nd time I was extremely suicidal was in December of 2003 and January of 2004. In Dec, I admitted to myself that I was transsexual. I was scared and completely suicidal. I didn’t think I would be able to live in this world and be myself. I was queer, I was trans, and I loved God. I felt that my purpose was to spread love around the world and love God and share that love with everyone. I know how much gay people are hated and trans people are hated and even people who truly love God are hated. I felt that my lesbian, gay, and bi friends didn’t get my spiritual self and that the people I knew who loved God (mostly family) thought that me and my friends were sinners and would burn in hell for all eternity. (Oy! and Yikes!) I felt it was impossible to be myself. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. In January of 2004 I started having panic attacks. I couldn’t work. I had to go to therapy. The first day of Therapy my psychologist made me write a contract/promise that I wouldn’t kill myself and pulled me off the road. At the time, I was a courier for Federal Express. I covered people’s off days, vacation, sick days..etc.. I wrote the promise note in big shaky letters. It looked like little kid scribble. I promised not to kill myself. I’ve kept that promise. For me, at that moment, the issue became not if I would ever transition but when would I transition? I never talked to that therapist about transition or me being trans. The only thing I told him that was near talking about it in 11 months of therapy, was about my mom throwing an ashtray at my head when I was 10, yelling, “You are not a boy!” She threw the ashtray at my head and it hit the door right next to my head. It was not a plastic ashtray and it scared me. It really scared me. That level of anger and violence was incomprehensible. I didn’t remember it until I was in therapy. She was mad, raging mad, because I wouldn’t wear my training bra. I think she could see something in me that I didn’t know myself. I wasn’t a tomboy as a girl. I kept to myself. I read in my room. I tried to just blend in and be invisible. I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself and I didn’t want to ’cause any trouble. I like peace. Outward peace at the very least. But as a kid, I had no inner peace whatsoever.

I started medical transition in June of 2009. I inject testosterone in my body once a week. It’s been 28 months and two weeks 🙂 I didn’t start binding ’til April of 2010. Binding, for those who don’t know, is wearing something to flatten the chest so that it looks more male like. I use a black compression tri top shirt. Before binding, I used a black sports bra. Some people use ace bandages. I’ve heard of people who use(d) duct tape 😦 In August, I started really really really hating binding. And really really having a problem with my body. Body dysphoria blows chunks. I dream about cutting up my binders. I got depressed because I don’t know when I’ll be able to afford surgery. I am on temporary disability ’til December. I have .04 in the bank and less than a dollar in change around the house. But my classes are payed for and I have all my books for school and my rent was payed last month and my phone bill too. I have a disability bus pass good for a couple years that’s $18 a month. I may have to try and borrow money from a friend and see if I can get another school loan. We’ll see. So..back to the binding issue. The binding is uncomfortable. I am usually gone all day at school or Dr’s. appointments or errands. I’m on the bus and trolley. It takes an hour to get to school and 45 minutes to an hour to get home. That’s only if I’m going to school and back and most days I go other places too. When I get home, the binder comes off! So it got to a point in August and September where I don’t want to leave the house much. So, my transbody/binding thing is interfering with my life in a most negative way. And not having money is affecting things too. I could rattle off a list of awesome things in my life but I think today I am just acknowledging how things are. The not so good things. My self esteem is affected. I feel out of control and angry. I want to destroy things. Break things. I don’t want to be productive and study or learn some new cool thing about music. I don’t want to draw a picture or write a poem. I want to be held. I want the person who is holding me to tell me a story about something they’ve overcome and let me feel what I’m feeling without telling me it’ll be better. Just holding me and letting me know they’ve been here too. They know this place where I am and it’s okay. It’s a part of being human.

I want to be kissed and made love to. That would make me feel better I’m sure. If I were being made love to and kissed I’d most likely cry. I’d have some sort of release. I’m all pent up and no way to get out all this angst and all this rage. I want to break everything in the house and tear up the pumpkin patch outside. I am feeling violent. It’s rare but here it is. And I’m typing this, instead of ripping apart the whole wide world.

Earlier I wanted to shave my head and the hair on my face and then the hair all over my body. I wanted to be new. Blank. Alien. Fresh. I want/ed to start over.

I think about what Susan Orlean says in Adaptation:
It’s over. Everything, I did everything wrong. I want my life back. I want it back before everything got fucked up. I want to be a baby again. I want to be new. I want to be new.

I don’t think I’ve done everything wrong or that I’ve fucked up and I’d only want to be a baby again if I had emotionally stable and conscious parents who really understood what it means to be a parent and what it means to be a kid.

I want to be new. Quiero ser nuevo.

Happy Friday/Happy Saturday!

It’s been a long day! I had a Dr’s appointment in the early afternoon. I have a new primary doctor. I had a physical exam. It’s been almost 3 years. I get the results in about a month because my Dr. is going on vacation. If anything is abnormal the Health Center will call me in and go over the results. I had to get a breast exam and a cervical exam. Even though I live as a male, my anatomy is still mostly female so it’s important that I went to get these things done. The cervical exam was painful because I have a small canal. I had a little bit of tears. My Dr. tried to do it as fast as he could, while explaining everything that he did. A transwoman I know was the medical assistant in the room. It made me feel more comfortable. I’m glad I got it done.

I called customer service for the insurance I have and the agent told me when I get a referral from my Dr. they’ll cover my top surgery. Since this is the first time I am seeing this Dr. he said we have to establish care. I don’t know how long that will take but hopefully it’ll be in the next few months. I go to another clinic that specializes in lgbt low income care. I have an appointment with them in a couple weeks. I haven’t been since December and I see a different Dr. every time so I don’t know if they’ll be able to give me a referral. I’ve been going to that clinic for over 5 years now, so I am hopeful they can help me. I’m also hoping a Dr. there will write me a letter so I can get my gender legally changed for my SSN and Passport. My driver’s license and name change happened within the first 5 months of medical transition so I’ve been able to get along fine but it’ll be nice to be have the SSN and passport have that “M” marker. I don’t plan to change my birth certificate. I wish I could just add an amendment to it stating that I was born on blah blah date with the sex marker “F” and transitioned blah blah date to “M”. Socially, I want everything to have the gender marker “M” but medically I’d like it to say F to M so the Dr’s and other health care workers will know my history and be able to provide the best treatment for me.

In a few hours I have to go back to the clinic and get bloodwork down. I am supposed to fast. A 12 hours fast. I can only drink water. I’ve made it through 7 hours so far. I’m hungry now. I should have gone to sleep hours ago!!

I ended up staying up to work on a GoFundMe page. I was very reluctant to do one. I feel embarrassed. I know there’s a lot of people out there who are in worse situations than I am. But I am on the brink of homelessness again and I’ll do anything to avoid it. I don’t have any place to go. I would usually stay with my Aunt and my Uncle who live almost two hours away, but my homophobic/transphobic cousin lost his job and is staying there for who knows how long. He tried to beat me up last summer and I just can’t be around him and feel safe. His son, my little cousin who I’ve spent the last 3 summers and last two Christmases is there this month but I’m not allowed to see him this because my cousin doesn’t want me around him at all. It’s sad. I have no family in the city that I’m in. My friend who lives up the street has two friends staying with her and her roommate right now. There’s no room for me. My landlady texted me today to leave my rent in the envelope she provided. I am completely stressed out right now. I know legally she’d have to serve me with a 30 day notice. I don’t know how this’ll go. I go to the 2nd house on the property to use the bathroom/shower. I don’t know if she’ll lock me out. I’m scared.

Anyway, I’ll put a link here for the GoFundMe page and I’ll probably make a widget for it.


Hope all is well.

Grateful for Medical. Thankful for a nice Doctor.
Thanks for Crystal. Thanks for Titanic. I had it on in the background tonight.
Thanks for Stephen Fry’s reading of Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban.

3 Things I Enjoy Being A Witness To

1. That stage in development when a baby is pulling themselves up on things:
Chairs, end tables, people’s legs 🙂 and so on…
And how Happy they are to be standing up! The joy, the exhilaration, the big grin, the plopping down on their diapered bottom.
Looking around for the response from those watching, getting up again…
Smiling 🙂
Building muscles to embark on a new phase in life.
This is my absolute favorite thing to witness. Favorite, I tell ya.

2. Witnessing someone at the beginning and early on in transition. I love the joy of it, all the changes, even the hard stuff. There’s nothing like watching someone come into their own. It is beautiful to witness in myself, with people I know, and those on the internet/Youtube. I love the anniversary videos. 1 year on T (testosterone), 2 years on T…and so on.

3. Witnessing the spiritual growth/spiritual awakening of someone. The changing. The blossoming. The working through things of the past, understanding them, letting go, the pain of it, the healing. The work. The beautiful ongoing work. The awareness. The realizations and so on…

Beautiful to witness.
So beautiful.