I have always loved night time. I use to tell myself this was because it reflected my soul. Deep, dark, quiet. I told myself I would rather walk alone. Now? Well, I just seem more creative in the wee hours; there is something about this time when my mind is clearest, even when I am an emotional mess.
Of course, things don’t always work the way I would like… Now is a good example. I have thoughts and ideas for my WIP I just can’t get out. Which is why I am sitting here procrastinating, going through my music collection, reading other peoples posts, trying to get something moving. Why I am writing this rambling post.
There are times when I simply cannot understand myself. There are things which upset, which bring me to the verge of depression, bring on angry outbursts or simply muttering to myself and yet, I find myself just hours later waking up thinking things are going to be better. That some how, they are going to either work out or fade into the background and I will be able to continue on as if nothing had happened. Some people would say I was an optimist, I think I just don’t learn.
Every day I go through emotional ups and downs, times when I want to laugh, scream, or cry until there are no tears left. Then I sleep and when I wake up, I have pushed those things to the back of my thoughts and I go through them all over again…
My transition has been the same way. There are times when I believe I can move forward and then the thoughts and fears come back and I know I am destained to forever be trapped in the reality I have crafted for myself. As the saying goes, I have made my bed and now I have to sleep in it. There is a level where I am resigned to this, but there is another where I still hope and dream. I know there are many others who find themselves facing the same dilemma, those who, for their own reasons, find transitioning to be more of a mental exercise and not something outward. Some of them are fine with this, then there are those like myself who find it confusing, bruising, and confining.
I have days when going about in boy mode isn’t a great experience, but not so terrible either, then there are days when it drives me absolutely crazy. Times when I don’t think about this skin I am wearing and others when I wish I was a snake so I could shed it and walk away. There are days when I dream as a boy and others as a girl, sometimes I wake up and think nothing of this and others when, having seen myself as male, I want to run and take a shower… I so violated.
I know someone is going to read this, shaking their head, say to themselves this is proof I am confused or crazy or delusional and maybe they’re right. I have been told so before. After my suicide attempt I had a doctor tell me I was suicidal, an alcoholic. He said I had coping issues, I had a borderline personality disorder. I was emotionally unstable… In other words I needed lots of medications and to be kept in a controlled environment for my own safety… then they gave me a bunch of bottles and cut me loose after just three days….
Now I am back in therapy and I don’t know what to think. I know she is there to help me figure things out, to find a place where I can live in peace with myself She has no reason to tell me something just to be nice to me, to make me feel better about myself. Yet this is something I fear. She has spoken of seeing in me something more feminine, in not feeling as if I am presenting as fully male… My walk, the way I hold myself, the way I sit. The way I speak, my mannerisms, all these things and more. She has spoken of how, when I came to my appointment fully presenting as female, it seemed completely natural to the point she soon forgot she was suppose to be talking to a “him” and not a “her”.
She noted I was very aware of how I carried myself, how I was walking, how I was talking, just how I was presenting myself overall.
I want to believe her. I want to think even when I am in “boy” mode, there is still more of the “her” to me than the “him.” I want to believe I can be seen by the world as I so often see myself.
This isn’t about “passing”, when I have been out, this has never even crossed my mind. It isn’t a matter of being seen as believable, it is being seen as ME. Sure I would like for people to not even think of me as a “guy in a dress”, or as a joke, as a fool, as a clown, as someone trying to play a part. This isn’t acting, this isn’t pretending, this isn’t make-believe. I want people to not judge me as male or female but simply as myself no matter how I might be presenting.
I just want to be me.