Beginning this month my local Planned Parenthood has begun to offer services to the transgender community. On August 31st they and our local support group will be holding an informational meeting which I have indicated I plan on attending.
Naturally I have spent the last several weeks since the initial announcement going from being firm in my resolve to take this step in my transition to trying to convince myself not to go. All of my usual overthinking combined with depression, anxiety, and dysphoria have created a toxic mix which has left me exhausted. Unable to sleep well, eat well, and doing my damnedest to avoid alcohol (a crutch I have kicked once already).
After all these years I know I have reached the point where I need to take this step to survive and that trying to hold off until I am near the breaking point will do nothing more than make me suffer a great deal of pain I don’t need or deserve… (Of course knowing this has never stopped me before)…
I swear, something inside insists I deserve to suffer. That I do not, nor have I ever had the right to experience true happiness.
The heartbreaking part is knowing in hurting myself I also hurt those I love the most.
None the less, such knowledge cannot stop this boiling pit of self loathing from overflowing, turing a simple reflection into an acid tipped dagger cutting me to the depths of my soul. Yes I have looked upon myself and wanted nothing more than to stop, to not just de-transition, but to erase every trace of these past years from my heart and memory.
For so much of my life I was able to submerge this other part of myself, to turn a blind eye, a deaf ear. Certainly I could do so once more… Or maybe, just maybe, this time would destroy me, who ever I am, leaving nothing but an empty unfeeling shell behind.
Yes, this has crossed my mind more in the past days… to commit a form of mental suicide, to allow myself to break so completely I could never be fixed again.
Then all of the questions, doubts and fears would become meaningless.