Thursday, July 21, 2011

7-21-11 Bras, self hate, suicide / I'm feeling better

This week has been one of the best weeks I've had in several months.  I've had some rocky moments but overall I haven't felt really depressed.  I've felt dysphoric about my body though.  A couple of days I've felt... wrong.  I've felt like ripping apart this corpse that I walk around in.  I've felt like a freak.  I'm scared that I will never be who I feel I am.  That everyone will look at me and not see 'me' but this flesh that doesn't meet their expectations of what a woman looks like.

Besides that I really am feeling a lot better than I have since even before my sister died.  I'd like to say that the hormones are leveling out my mood.  It's been three weeks since I restarted hrt.  Part of me really wants this to be the case.  Part of me knows I've had good weeks like this before and they always end.

***

I bought some sports bras online.  I wore one today to work.  I was a little nervous that someone would say something.  After a while I started to relax and mostly forgot about it.  I realized that I'm not wearing it for anyone else but myself so no one has any right to question me about it.  Not that anyone did.  I'm pretty sure that it isn't that hard to notice that I'm wear it but that might just be me knowing what to look for.

To be honest I've needed to wear something to contain my breasts for a while now.  I've put up with a lot of jiggling because I was afraid.  I was afraid of what other people might say.  I was afraid of being who I am because all my life the message I got from society was that being trans* was wrong.  It's weird and freaky and no one wants 'that'.  I bought into this message for twenty odd years and have spent several years trying to deprogram that message from my brain and learn to love myself.

I'm almost there.  It's still in there making me doubt myself and making me want to step backwards.  I am stronger than that.  If I wasn't I wouldn't be here now.  I'd be dead.  Cause that's what that message leads to. Death.  Every dead trans* person is dead because they bought into that message that they are less than.  Less than a man.  Less than a woman.  Less than a person.  How can anyone who believes that keep on living?  They don't.  I've stared into that dark path long and hard.  I still sometimes glance down it.  It promises relief from the unending torment of living.  "Peace," it whispers, "in death."

If there was something after death I might take that path but there isn't.  At least there's no proof that there is. This is my one chance at life.  I'm taking it.  It's taken me too long to grasp this simple idea.  This is the only chance I get to live my life, so why am I not living it the way I want to?

It's easy for me to spout super positive stuff like the last paragraph.  It's harder for me to live it but I'm trying.  I'm trying but it's hard to fight yourself.  I'm taking things one step at a time until I've walked to where I need to be.

This kinda got away from me.  I really just wanted to say I've started wearing sports bras and find them comfortable(no more jiggling) not reflect on my self hate and suicidal thoughts and current feelings of such but there it is.

Tell next time.

Gilly

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