The wifi was down at the clinic yesterday and last night. I spent yesterday evening at the nearby coffee shop using their wifi instead. One of the residents from my apartment building recognized me and introduced herself. We talked for 15-20 minutes before she had to leave.
I was feeling restless last night and I walked to a nearby bar, where I stood outside using their free wifi as the wifi at the clinic was still down. I didn’t stay long; because there were shady people and cars passing by and I had briefly forgotten that I’d gone out dressed in pajama pants and a tank top that I usually only wear to bed (not the smartest of ideas).
It took me forever to fall asleep last night, despite taking 3 Seroquel. I lay awake worrying myself stupid and feeling extremely lonely at the same time. I eventually fell asleep just before midnight, but I woke up at 3am after having a panic-inducing nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep.
I signed up for a group putting to a thrift store later this morning. I always feel guilty for spending money on myself, but I need more summer clothes and clothes shopping is one of the few things I enjoy. I do have quite a lot of clothes, but many of them were bought over 2 years ago when 1) I wasn’t as confident presenting female as 2) my body shape has changed quite drastically due to hormones, so some of those clothes don’t fit me anymore. I would advise anyone starting hormones to WAIT a year or so before investing in a whole new wardrobe.
The girl I met on Tuesday never emailed me, which reinforces tie absolute need for me to give up on dating and love. I’m never going to find anyone and I’m now too scared to meet anyone from a dating site ever again. My best friend told me that I feel too bad about myself to date, which is largely true, but I hate myself for a very valid reason: I’m ugly. Why else would people either pity me, go ‘weird’ on me or just not contact me again after meeting me in person? It HAS to be because of the way I look. Why else would this keep happening? My real life persona is the same as my online persona. The only difference is that I generally try my hardest to hide my pain as far as the outside world goes, even though some people do notice the pain in my eyes. If I weren’t ugly, maybe I’d consider the fact that it might be that people assume that I don’t like them because of my awkwardness, aloofness and inability to make eye contact. It wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility, being as I was recently told by one of the residents in my building that he thought I was angry with him. But I’m ugly….ugly as fuck. I’ve been single for over a year, which is the longest I’ve ever been single since my first “proper” relationship at 23 years old.
Then I start missing S again. She’s the only person that has ever truly loved me. I keep thinking that if she’d been able to be with me as I am now, our relationship would’ve survived and I would have been a much better partner and friend to her. I imagine that my transition would’ve been so much easier if we’d stayed together, but it was excruciatingly difficult for her and it is selfish on my part to even harbor such wishes. She is better off without me and as much as meeting her was the best thing ever to have happened to me, I wish she hadn’t met me for her sake.
A lifetime of loneliness is as certain as death, as far as my life is concerned. Even if I hadn’t transitioned, it’s unlikely that I’d have found love. I have too many flaws and deformities to fix just to make myself look somewhere close to ‘average’ and I wouldn’t even know where to start. I have asked for referrals to a chiropractor to fix my ugly (and painful) feet and an ear nose and thrust specialist to fix my huge nose, as it isn’t just ugly; it’s causing breathing problems too. I could see an orthodontist / maxillofacial surgeon about fixing my jaw, but that would involve major surgery that I am terrified of, especially as I wouldn’t be able to look after myself post-surgery.
I need to just avoid the outside world as much as possible, as it’ll never be safe for me and it only serves to remind me of what I’ll never have and who I’ll never be. My dysphoria has returned with a vengeance and that is largely due to exposure with the outside world and situations that I have little or no control over. The help that I’m getting now won’t last forever and without it I’d be truly fucked. Ironically, I was able to be more functional when I self-medicated with drugs and alcohol.