Kira vs Greg

I almost made a terrible mistake tonight. As some of you may know, my oldest son is Autistic. He has been diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome and he takes medication to help him deal with the issues this causes. Being a teen though, he sometimes forgets to take is medicine unless either his mother or I remind him. I point this out because as I have since found out, he didn’t take his medicine this morning which is what lead to what happened just over an hour ago.

It began with an argument between him and his six year old brother over the Wii U. It escalated into a shouting match which is when I stepped in. I started out trying to be clam and reasonable, but the problem is, off of the medicine, he isn’t very reasonable.  Things quickly spiraled out of control. The longer things went on, the more I found myself returning to my old ways of thinking and speaking… to returning to being “Him”… to being Greg. Yes, this is my actual male name, the one I have lived with and hated for as long as I can remember. When I think of who I was before, it is wrapped in that name. I am Kira now, as much as I can be, not Greg.

He wasn’t a very nice person in so many ways. He did, said, and thought things which make me sick when I think of them now. This all came crashing down on me when I realized just how close I was getting to being him again. Instead of walking away, I let my son… this child, push me to the edge. I finally told him, in front of his brothers what was about to happen… That if he continued to push me I was going to let “Him” back. I told them who I was now is not who I was but all it would take is the flip of a switch in my head and he would be back. I told them I was Kira now but I had been Greg before and all he needed was the smallest excuse to come back.

I asked them if they wanted me or him.

I cannot describe the fear in the eyes of the older two… They haven’t forgotten, may never forget that other person. Looking in their eyes, I realize things were so much worse than I ever imagined. The guilt I have felt over the things I remember doing and saying in those days doesn’t begin to compare to the horror I saw in their eyes… How could I have ever become such a creature that my own children were in such fear of me? Such fear my oldest was willing to walk out into 15 degree weather without a coat just so I wouldn’t flip that switch? To become that person again?

God, this hurts so much… I never wanted this for them, for A, for myself…

I know now, even if I lose everything, everything I fought of values or worth, I cannot… ever, let him loose on the world again.

I have felt this entire time, him just under the surface, waiting for me to slip, for me to loosen his bonds just the smallest bit and he would come roaring back… Sometimes I even thought such a thing would be for the best. 

How could I ever think the lives of my loved ones would be better with him than with me?

Yes, I was once him… once a person named Greg. I am not that person any more, can never be him again. To do so would mean my death. Not just of who I am now, but of this physical being I inhabit. He will destroy it all.

It is what he was made to do.

He is death.

I don’t know how I can stand to hear that name again. It is not who I am. I pray to God it never is again.

I am Kira.

I cannot be anything other than this one thing… encompassed by something so simple as a name…

Just Kira.

I cannot be both.

God help me, I cannot be both.

I cannot stand to see that look in my children’s eyes again.

One last thing…

My youngest never saw that part of who I was, thankfully…

Yet he asked me, “Were you a bad person?”

How can I answer such a question? How can I look at him and not feel the sorrow of what has happened?

I told him…

“Not any more.”

Please God, don’t let me have lied to him… He doesn’t deserve such a thing….

None of do.

Hidden

Gender Dysphoria

 

It’s funny, the things which can inspire one to write. No matter if it’s a Tweet, email, or blog post, there is just some little thing which happens which sets the wheels in motion. I’m not going to elaborate on what prompted this post simply because there is someone else involved and I haven’t asked them about it. So, better safe than sorry, right? Which brings me to what I want to talk about.

 

For as long as I can remember there have been things; thoughts, hopes, dreams, opinions, even knowledge I was afraid to share with those around me, even friends because I worried about what they would think of me. Looking back it all seems so silly now, but it a realty I cannot deny. Understandably, this went from caution to habit to a way of life and this was before I had a name for what made me feel so different from those around me. 

Since I came out to myself it has only gotten worse, though being able to talk with Jodi has helped. Still, it is getting more difficult as time goes by. It is a constant drain on me emotionally and mentally and quite frankly, I am sick of feeling as if I have something to hide. 

It hit me again last night, this feeling of pointlessness. The thoughts I will never go any further than I am now. My mental and emotional transition seems as stalled as my physical one. I was able to move out of it in time, yet I was left exhausted. The knowledge there is very good reasons for what I am going and the timeline I am working with does little to bring any sense of comfort in these moments.

I feel as if I’m a ghost. As if the truth I hold inside is a Willow-the-Wisp, here and then gone the moment I reach for it. 

Every waking moment I am aware of being seen as one thing, this collection of everyones expectations… Being called by a male name, referred to with male pronouns…

Sir.

Sir?

Sir!

 

I want scream.

I want to cry.

I want to go to sleep and awake with my insides and outside matched… and not as “Him”….

Impossible I know.

An insane dream.

You know what? More than anything I simply don’t want to hurt any more. I want to be able to simply live.

Is it really too much to ask?

I just ask, please read this… I think you’ll understand…

When was the last time you read something and you had to get up and walk away… Had to give yourself time to begin processing the words… the thoughts and emotions…

To begin to heal…

 

I just ask, please read this… I think you’ll understand…

Silence, Shame, And Sexual Harassment” by Lia Tung