A Path Already Walked

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I realize now that I need to go back to the beginning of this blog and read everything I have written. To once again walk down those paths that have led me to this point.

Until just the other day, this was something I hadn’t thought that I needed to do. Something that in some ways I was scared to so. That I am still scared to do. There are things written that i don’t want to face again. To think about. To remember.

But I have to. 

This is one of the keys to understanding myself, to remembering the things I have learned.

There is a great deal of pain in those pages, written in the middle of the night when I was lost in the storm.

In those first hectic days, I thought my only issue was with cross dressing… Boy, I couldn’t have been further off the mark.

As time passed and more an more memories came to the surface, I quickly realized that I had bigger things to deal with and I am still dealing with them all these months later.

I am finding that I will have to take this process very slowly, just going back to those memories is causing me some problems and I am quickly feeling overwhelmed.

I have to remember to take this one small step at a time, and when I need to, to step back and take a breather. I don’t have to do everything in a single day. 

In Need of a 2×4

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Some days I just need a good smack to the back of head and someone telling me, “Hey dummy, you missed the obvious!”

Thank you Ren’Ai for doing that for me.

As been pointed out, the whole point of doing this blog was to give me space to write down all the stuff that runs through my head on any given day. Somethimes from hour to hour. It doesn’t matter if I am thinking of ups or downs, good things, bad things or just pointless things, this is the space for it. This is also a place that I can come back to later and reread what I have written, to remember the things I might have forgotten. To show myself that even in the bad times there are also good times. That if I take the time to sift through all these words, I have most likely written an answer for myself.

I just have to find it.

Thinking things out, working through problems and issues, is one of my strong points, it is also one of my weaknesses. It doesn’t take much to go beyond heathy self examination and into destructive cycles of over thinking.

Everything that I have gone through up to this point has been overwhelming, there is so much I now know that I simply don’t know. There are emotions and thoughts I simply don’t have the ability to deal with, and yet I have, time and again, tried to do exactly that. If my past were any indication, I should know that I am not a mental heath professional and I do a really lousy job of treating myself. Yet that is what I try to do time and again.

I think I’m like the mule that has to be hit over the head with a 2×4 just to get my attention. Then maybe I can learn something.

 

P.S. Ren’Ai, I know you love anime and when I saw this picture I thought you would like it.

(((HUGS)))

Kira

Tonight; Between the Fire and the Void

 

I tried to do something tonight that I haven’t done for some time…
I tried to go into full shut down. To just let my mind go blank, thinking of nothing. To shut down my emotions and float in a void…

I couldn’t do it. The thoughts and feelings just keep gnawing away at me and I’m unable to stop them…

Right now I have the music turned up as loud as I can stand without making my ears bleed and still that damn voice that whispers in my mind won’t be quiet…

That feeling that I’m full of shit, that all I’ve done is live one lie after another, won’t quit digging at me, undermining my confidence in myself, who I think I am…

At this point I don’t know myself any more… I doubt that I ever really knew myself at all…

I think of myself and what I thought I saw there and I don’t know what to think. Nothing makes any sense any more.
I was so sure I understood the thing I had unleashed in my head but now? I just don’t know.

Maybe I’m trying to avoid the truth of who I am. Maybe some part of me is unwilling to accept the truth, whatever that might be…

To be honest, I wish I could just shut down, to disappear into my own head and never come back. Leave behind this shell.

As it is, I am caught in the strangest place. There is a numbness in my head and yet it feels as if my chest is burning. As if my heart is being turned to ash.
Part of me wants to shed my old life, everything I was for so many years, but part of me wants to cling to who I was, discarding this new reality and returning to what was, no matter how bad it might have been.

Yes, I find it impossible to not doubt myself, my thoughts, my feelings. I just can’t grasp this. I can’t get myself around who I have become…

I wish I had better words to explain what is tearing through me. I wish that I could let everything inside just pour out onto these pages. That the tears that I cry would become the thoughts that would make this clear even as my vision blurs….

A Darker Writing

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Before I get a start on this post, I know that it is going to be a dark writing.

I have been moving within a false cloud of outward happiness since last night and I think my energy for this has about run out. 

One thing I know is that I will not cry. I am not going to let those tears fall, not now, not tonight. I will hold them in, as I have done so many times.

I know that in many ways I am not the person I was and yet in so many ways I still am. I have my bad times, when the dark emotions rule my thoughts. When I cannot see the light in the distance. When the dawn seems too far away. 

It is true that most of my early years are a blank, that I cannot recall more than a few vivid memories from the time before I was six, then things again turn blurry until the age of ten. I think that maybe those years that are closed to me may be a blessing. Considering what I know from those years things weren’t very good. 

The times from the age of ten are not perfect, but I can remember a great deal more and do so much more clearly and I can say that while I am sure that there are those who had things worse than I, my life was nothing to be envied.

It was during those years that I became very familiar with death, and often thought of dying.

It was during this time that I became familiar with pain.

Physical pain.

Emotional pain.

Psychological pain.

I withdrew within myself, seeking solitude and shunning contact with anyone as much as I could. I would spend hours upon hours alone, out riding my bike or walking for miles and miles. All the while I thought and thought and thought and could find no answers.

I didn’t understand myself, couldn’t understand the way I thought and saw the world. Why I felt the things I did. I was beyond just wanting to be a girl, though that was part of it, it was was wondering why I had ever been born, why I was still alive even after screaming to the heavens to let lightning strike me down.

Through high school I wanted nothing more than to die, to be buried and gone. Even now , looking back across the gulf of time, I can still recall some of those moments with perfect clarity. This was far beyond teen confusion and doubt, this wasn’t about being socially awkward. This was a deep seated hatred of myself. Who I was, what I was, the very fact that I existed in the world at all. 

I inflicted a great deal of physical abuse on myself.

I abused drugs and alcohol. Though to this day the man I once called my best friend at the time calls me a liar when I tell him some of the things I did back then.

I went into the military simply because I didn’t know what else to do with myself and not surprisingly, that ended when I tired to overdose. Then again, almost from day one I was an emotional and mental disaster. I quickly returned to the self destructive behavior, drinking too much, self harm, and drugs. 

The fact that I suffered a total break down wasn’t surprising, that it took as long to unfold was.

Since then I have found that I have been in a mental battle with myself, a war of self hatred and loathing. I don’t know that I hoped to find in all of this, what end I expected beyond death.

Again, the fact that I suffered a second break down isn’t a surprise, that it didn’t end with me in the hospital or the morgue is.

If I had not had A there to question me, to at least find a way to open up some form of communication, I don’t know that might have happened.

That in opening that communication she inadvertently opened pandora’s box has led us to where I am today.

Still wondering, still questioning, still seeking.

And as someone agreed with, I think too much, try too hard to understand things. Ask too many questions that simply don’t have answers.

In many ways I am terrified of being myself because I don’t know who that is.

 

(And yes, I think this post alone is proof that I think too damn much.) 

No Turning Back Now

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Well, things took another step forward today. I was contacted by the owner of the therapy group that I hope to get into. She was very understanding and agreed that I should at least do a consult. She even mentioned a support group that she thinks I might be able to join and she is going to check for me. I have some things that need to be checked before I can schedule an  appointment, so I’m waiting to hear back… hope I have some news soon.

Again, I have to say that the further things move along, the more nervous I get. This is something i never thought I would actually do…. at this point I have the shakes so bad I have to keep getting up because I can’t hold the mouse or type well enough to make complete sentences.

I have to say, speaking to another person about this was nerve racking. Although I have written about this all through this blog, it is such a different experience to speak the words out loud. To tell someone I have never met this secret. Don’t get me wrong, the person I spoke to was very kind and understanding and didn’t seem bothered in the least. She also recommended that I see one of the female therapists without being asked. I thought that was very nice. The thought of trying to talk to a man about this wasn’t something I could ever consider.

The funny thing is, despite everything, I feel rather relieved. As I said, things seem to be moving forward. Such a nice change from the up and down way of things as I’ve tried to work though this pretty much alone. I guess that in the end trying to deal with all my other issues on top of this has just been more than I can handle. That I have managed to deal with my episodes of depression, even when they got to a dangerous point, is a miracle. Though maybe, just maybe, had I been seeing someone for that alone I might have avoided the truth about myself. I don’t know if I could have admitted any of this to myself, let alone anyone else, (even a therapist), is a question I will never be able to answer. The fact is that my repressing this likely caused or at least aggravated my depression, even knowing that, I don’t know if I could have told, especially if I was seeing a male therapist. 

No matter what, there is really no turning back now… though to be honest, I think I passed that point the moment I let myself admit the truth of who I am…

Talking About Myself

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Has anyone else tried to look back at who they were before they came out? I have just to get a sense of where I was compared to where I am now, and you know what? I can’t do it.

I have a boatload of memories of course, but as I get closer to the night I broke down, they get pretty fuzzy until they become an indecipherable blur. That isn’t what I’m really talking about though. I mean emotionally. 

I tried to step back and look at what I was feeling in those last days and weeks, even months and I find that there is a blank there. I simply cannot connect with those emotions. It’s like who I am now is so far removed from that other person that we simply cannot connect at all.

I don’t understand what he was feeling, why he was feeling that way, or what his thought process was. Again, I have some of the memories but it’s like years of my life have all but vanished into a smear where everything is jumbled and disconnected.

<Sigh> I know I’m not making much sense here, it is such a strange feeling that it hard to describe. It’s like watching a movie for the hundredth time, you know the lines, you remember the scenes, and your pretty sure you remember the actors, but there is no real connection at all. No emotion, everything seems strangely flat and well. poorly written. Whats worse is that you know your the writer, the director, and the actor and still your left wondering what’s happening and what were you thinking when you wrote this mess?

Really, did that help explain things at all? I hope so…

I know that in the weeks following my life and mind were a jumbled mess that was racing along at a thousand miles an hour and i can at least go back and read those old posts and gain some understanding of what I was doing, and why, but from before? It’s like trying to understand an alien life form.

And I’m talking about myself here…

I Hate Scrambled Eggs

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I took a step forward today.

I finally contacted the therapy group here in town to inquire about their services; I’m waiting to hear back from them to see if they provide the service I need.

I won’t kid you, I’m scared to death. I have never talked to a complete stranger about what’s going on with my gender issues and the very idea of it fils me with dread. I know that these feelings are silly, that I am seeking to talk to a professional. That doesn’t stop something deep inside from insisting that I am making a terrible mistake.

Maybe it is the fact that I have had to hide for so long, keeping the truth of who I know myself to be safe from view. Maybe it was knowing that letting anyone see the true me would lead to nothing but pain.

Whatever the reason, I find that I am getting almost physically ill at the very thought. 

One thing I wasn’t expecting was in filling out the contact form I had to put down my name. I started to put down “Kira” without thinking about it. I had to backtrack and use my male name. I was afraid that they would think I was trying to prank them if I didn’t. What surprised me was how ambivalent I was about writing that name. It is a name I have to use every day, and often do so without too much thought, but that has changed.

This is what I was going to write about today, before I took the plunge and started the process I hope will lead to me talking to a therapist, that fact that when I woke up this morning it hit me that I can’t clearly remember the last time I thought of myself in terms of “his” name. I know it was some time last week, but I can’t recall the reason it happened or what day it was. I have been thinking only in terms of my real name. Thinking in terms of who I am now, not who I was. I am thinking in terms of the real me, not the facade I have been wearing.

In some ways this scares me a bit, the loss of that comfort zone I worked so hard to build and maintain, but that isn’t who I really am and I cannot continue with the lies any more. It is sort of disturbing and confusing because in my public life I have maintain that other persona. 

I know that now I am going to have to watch myself but for different reason from before. 

It makes me feel almost like I’m now living in a parallel universe where every thing is switched. Where before I had to watch and make sure I kept my female side hidden, now I have to watch and make sure I maintain a visible male side. 

It may seem like the same thing, but it isn’t. The focus is different. The thought process is different. The concerns are different.

I don’t know, this is really hard to explain in a way that makes any sense, even to me.

Honestly, my brains feel like scrambled eggs…. and I hate scrambled eggs…

Pride and Confidence

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The past several days have been a “down” time for me, I would say it was a bout of depression, though it was no where near as bad as I have had in the past. Maybe a deeper form of the blues in that it didn’t last for weeks or months which I have had happen in the past. No, this I think, was more a matter of finding that for every step forward I have tried to take I have found some obstacle in my path. Some I have managed to over come but a building list of others are proving to be much more difficult to over come. 

I could make of list of those things that I find personally vexing, but really that’s kind of pointless. The thing that matters is that I cannot let these things drag me down. I cannot live my life looking at things from the viewpoint of the defeated or I have lost the battle already.

It was realizing that fact that helped me to pull of out of my mood, to take a breath and get my bearings. For me it was like flipping the page of a book. It was not a major change, but an understanding. 

I can let this beat me down, I can let the challenges I face become mountains I can never cross. The truth is, these are things I can do if I choose to do so. On the other hand I can choose to hold my head up high, to have pride in myself and confidence in who I am. It is my choice to be defeated or to rise to the challenge of living this life.

I don’t know where I heard this, but I remember a saying that rings true to me today; “The first time you give up is the hardest, then it gets easier to give up again and again until you quit trying all together.”

Things aren’t going to get easier, life isn’t easy, but to give up should never be an option that I willingly accept. 

Rough Patch

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I have run into a bit of a rough patch these past couple of nights, as sometimes happens, my depression and darker thoughts come bubbling to the surface and I am left emotionally and physically drained.

It is true that over all, these times are becoming less frequent and not as deep as in the past, but there are still times when I am overwhelmed. 

These past months writing this blog have been the first times in my life that I had an outlet for these feelings. Always before I had to work through everything alone, in my own mind. That of course makes it doubly difficult to break out of the downward spiral that leads to a place I would just as soon not go. 

Last night I found myself in the dark place, looking into the abyss and knowing that it was looking back at me.

As I said, any thoughts about what I might do have been and are pushed to some future date. That is one of the ways I not only keep my sanity, but also keep thoughts from turning into action. I have obligations. I have promises made to others that I will not abandon. It may very well be that these are the only things keeping me from doing something I can’t take back.

One thing I have come to see is that my depression and gender issues are tied together. Not that being TG somehow triggered the depression, it might very well be that I would still be dealing with that even if there were no other issues, but dealing with my identity has added a level of  stress that has had an affect. It is my hope that as I work through these issues the frequency and severity of my episodes of depression will lessen.

Until then I will just have to fight my way through, remembering that there are others who count on me keeping my promises and by keeping those promises, I will live to fight another day.

Educating Myself Too Much

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I have found it is possible to educate yourself too much. To read too many articles, to watch too many television shows. After a point it all becomes information overload. It doesn’t take much to convince yourself your either completely right or completely wrong. To show yourself and others that your sane or as crazy as a fruit bat.

This is even more true when you are searching for answers for your own thoughts and/or emotions. When you have come to realize something about yourself that is totally unexpected and maybe unwanted. It seems to me that if I wanted to totally embrace the transgender experience, I can find a thousand and one people who will support me. On the other hand, if I reject being trangender I can again find a thousand sources that will tell me that I’m not what I think I am.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I find that I can quickly become disheartened after reading something that, with plenty of opinions expressed, tells me that I am living a lie. That just because I happen to feel a certain way about myself, that doesn’t make it true. That in the end, it is what makes up this physical form, the bits and pieces, that make me what I really am. That anything that goes against that biological truth is wishful thinking at best, self delusion at worst.

I know I have written about this before, but honestly, these news articles, opinion pieces, and blog posts all feed into my worst fear. I know I should ignore them, but I just can’t seem to help myself.

Every day, every little slip, every mistake; every fear, every doubt, every question I ask, all these things make me wonder, make me unsure of myself. Unsure of the decisions I have made, unsure of how I feel about myself. How I see myself.

Things for me are so up and down. I can have such a great time like yesterday, and then one thing, one little thing, can throw me back into a tail spin. At this point I feel like a broken record. I can hear the people reading this and saying: “Why can’t she just get it together? This is the same crap she wrote about a week ago!”

I hate going through this, feeling like I’m stuck in the movie “Ground Hog Day”. It seems like very time I turn around I’m dealing with the same stupid issues, asking the same damn questions, expressing the same thoughts.

I hate this feeling of constant dread, this feeling like I got everything wrong. That if things were the way I believe them to be then I should have started to come up with some solid answers by now, not more questions.

I wouldn’t be sitting here, trying to get these words into a blog post while my hands are shaking so much that my only salvation is in auto correct.

I wouldn’t be fighting back the tears that threaten to fall, but I can’t let them because then A would be all over me wanting to know what’s wrong when I can’t find the words to explain.