I can tell that this is not going to look or feel polished or even probably articulate. But some days I just don’t care about that to be honest. Honestly, I’m really struggling at the moment. Two things are bothering me and just won’t go away. The first and most important is that I know deep down that I am increasingly unhappy with my gender. It is getting harder and harder to live as a man when I know that I’m not of that gender. Sadness just fills me all the time and despite trying to put a brave face on it, its not working any more.
I know I need to do something about it, but the ramifications of the impact on the people around me continues to yell, ‘what are you thinking’ in my face at a ridiculous volume. Honestly, I’m probably more conflicted and in pain than I ever have been in my whole life. I’ve been reading several books recently about transwomen who have transitioned to full time and it just makes a huge amount of sense to me. But I still can’t believe that it could ever be me.
One of the things I am struck again and again with is just how much this has affected my whole life. I’ve just been fighting forever against myself and felt unhappy, tormented and in pain every hour of every day of my life and I just want it to stop. I need it to stop.
Even when I dress, I’m only 75% happy because I know that it is going to end. Sorry if this sounds moany, but the torment of taking off my make up and ‘changing back’ often causes such anguish inside that I just feel like getting in my car and running away. Although like most people who are trans (I assume) I have considered whether it is worth continuing with my life. I know that I could probably never go that far, but I have certainly considered just running away and disappearing to a place where no-one can find me and just starting again. Deleting my whole history to be someone new.
I also know though that my health is suffering because of my weight and this is the second thing. The lack of control I feel about changing my gender is ‘coped with’ by eating and drinking. Despite all of my promises to myself to lose weight, I don’t. That internal desperation to find some way out has always been channeled to food and drink for me. I stand at the heaviest I’ve ever been. It used to be that dressing and going out was an answer, it relieved some of the pressure. It still does to a degree, but the dread of changing back and of being perceived as a man rather than as a woman is just to painful. I’m at the point where it has to be all or nothing, but I don’t think it can be.
My head is near to exploding and I needed to write it down. I’m not looking for answers, there aren’t any, only difficult choices. But thank you for reading and caring.