Sunday, May 20, 2012
Beginning Again, for the First Time
This blog is full of my dissembling about transition. I've always said that I intend to transition, but in three years I have not taken one action to further that process. Sure, there have been some obstacles thrown into my way, but I could still have at least spoken to someone in a position to help me, and I haven't. Well, there will be no more of that. Last week I spoke to my case worker at Apalachee Center about finding a specialist in gender identity, and he said he would find me one. I've got my follow-up appointment in June, and we'll see what he comes up with.
Chloe Sevigny Feels Unattractive
Chloe Sevigny Fears She's Unattractive
I saw this today and immediately thought of my post of two months ago about not feeling attractive. If she's playing a pre-op transsexual character, I suppose it's only fair if she experiences some of the negativity that we all feel about ourselves at some point. Gods know I've always felt wrong about that thing down below.
I saw this today and immediately thought of my post of two months ago about not feeling attractive. If she's playing a pre-op transsexual character, I suppose it's only fair if she experiences some of the negativity that we all feel about ourselves at some point. Gods know I've always felt wrong about that thing down below.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Back from the Brink
Just like that, I went a couple of months without updating the blog. I didn't mean to leave it so long, it's just that there's been a lot going on, and I haven't always been able to shape my thoughts into something coherent, or that anyone would necessarily want to read.
Now, my head's a little clearer. To say that the last couple of months have been eventful would be an understatement. Mass Effect 3 was finally released, and it was okay. Shortly after, I started getting meds again, and I'll hopefully be starting therapy soon. A little over a month ago, my father died. Last but not least, I've started going out and about again, interacting with folks in my feminine persona, and I've largely been accepted. Is it any wonder I've had trouble making sense of it all? I've laid it all out in chronological order, but I hope you'll forgive me if I jump around a bit.
I finally got around to seeing a case worker at the Apalachee Center at the end of February. A couple of weeks after, I saw an ARNP, who gave me scrips for my previous medications, along with a new one, a drug called Abilify. The drugs have helped banish most of my dark thoughts, but they haven't quite un-fogged my brain this time around. I've got another appointment next week, and I'll see if they can adjust things. I haven't made it into any therapy, mostly because I'm not sure where I fit into their programs. When I first came to them last summer, I was jobless and nearly homeless. Today I have a regular job, and make a little more money than their average patient. Hopefully I'll find out something positive next week.
The next paragraph includes spoilers for the game Mass Effect 3. If you haven't played the game, or don't want to know about it, skip the next few bits, and I'll try to signal you when I get past all that.
As you may have heard, Mass Effect 3 was released in March to much fanfare. It is a great game, but it's a little hard for me to play, and not because the gameplay is difficult. ME3 is the end of a series, and it's one of the darkest games I've ever played. There is death and destruction of unparallelled levels; planets fall, people die in the millions, and even your own party members can die. Worst of all, all but one of the possible endings includes the death of Commander Shepard, the hero. That's tough. After three games and countless hours of playing through to different ends and outcomes, I am Commander Shepard. The people who die are my crew, my squadmates. I felt their deaths as acutely as if they were real people.
Okay, anyone who checked out because of my video game nonsense can come back in now.
Dad died April 9th, of lung cancer. Apparently, he went quietly, and not in pain. Losing him hurts, but somehow it doesn't hurt as much as the way I learned of his death. Dad apparently went into the hospital in mid-March. He was there for about three weeks before the end. His nurse called a couple of hours before, to let us know he had maybe a couple of days. She called back less than two hours later to inform us of his passing. I would've liked to know he was sick. I might've been able to work out a way to visit him, had I known. When I finally learned, I was broke (till payday, anyway) and not in a position to come to a funeral.
I've had a hard time grieving. I've cried a little, but I'm emotionally worn. I've been tired, irritable and somewhat emotional, and that's with the aid of antidepressants. Who knows what a wreck I might be left to my own devices?
On a more positive note, as I mentioned before, I've been getting out a bit. Two weeks ago I stepped out for a pedicure, my first since last year. Last week I got out for a Tallahassee Atheist event, a rally in front of the Capitol in support of a National Day of Reason. I remember joking with someone that being transgendered was more acceptable to some people than being an atheist. I had a good time, and we had a nice dinner afterward. It's nice to have friends and be part of something again.
Now, my head's a little clearer. To say that the last couple of months have been eventful would be an understatement. Mass Effect 3 was finally released, and it was okay. Shortly after, I started getting meds again, and I'll hopefully be starting therapy soon. A little over a month ago, my father died. Last but not least, I've started going out and about again, interacting with folks in my feminine persona, and I've largely been accepted. Is it any wonder I've had trouble making sense of it all? I've laid it all out in chronological order, but I hope you'll forgive me if I jump around a bit.
I finally got around to seeing a case worker at the Apalachee Center at the end of February. A couple of weeks after, I saw an ARNP, who gave me scrips for my previous medications, along with a new one, a drug called Abilify. The drugs have helped banish most of my dark thoughts, but they haven't quite un-fogged my brain this time around. I've got another appointment next week, and I'll see if they can adjust things. I haven't made it into any therapy, mostly because I'm not sure where I fit into their programs. When I first came to them last summer, I was jobless and nearly homeless. Today I have a regular job, and make a little more money than their average patient. Hopefully I'll find out something positive next week.
The next paragraph includes spoilers for the game Mass Effect 3. If you haven't played the game, or don't want to know about it, skip the next few bits, and I'll try to signal you when I get past all that.
As you may have heard, Mass Effect 3 was released in March to much fanfare. It is a great game, but it's a little hard for me to play, and not because the gameplay is difficult. ME3 is the end of a series, and it's one of the darkest games I've ever played. There is death and destruction of unparallelled levels; planets fall, people die in the millions, and even your own party members can die. Worst of all, all but one of the possible endings includes the death of Commander Shepard, the hero. That's tough. After three games and countless hours of playing through to different ends and outcomes, I am Commander Shepard. The people who die are my crew, my squadmates. I felt their deaths as acutely as if they were real people.
Okay, anyone who checked out because of my video game nonsense can come back in now.
Dad died April 9th, of lung cancer. Apparently, he went quietly, and not in pain. Losing him hurts, but somehow it doesn't hurt as much as the way I learned of his death. Dad apparently went into the hospital in mid-March. He was there for about three weeks before the end. His nurse called a couple of hours before, to let us know he had maybe a couple of days. She called back less than two hours later to inform us of his passing. I would've liked to know he was sick. I might've been able to work out a way to visit him, had I known. When I finally learned, I was broke (till payday, anyway) and not in a position to come to a funeral.
I've had a hard time grieving. I've cried a little, but I'm emotionally worn. I've been tired, irritable and somewhat emotional, and that's with the aid of antidepressants. Who knows what a wreck I might be left to my own devices?
On a more positive note, as I mentioned before, I've been getting out a bit. Two weeks ago I stepped out for a pedicure, my first since last year. Last week I got out for a Tallahassee Atheist event, a rally in front of the Capitol in support of a National Day of Reason. I remember joking with someone that being transgendered was more acceptable to some people than being an atheist. I had a good time, and we had a nice dinner afterward. It's nice to have friends and be part of something again.
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