Longing to be normal 

I slept horribly last night, largely because I took my medication far too early as I simply couldn’t stand being conscious. I was pacing around the apartment building, losing my mind. I broke down in tears when I got back to my empty and internet-less apartment and decided that I’d had enough.

Since it’s a bank holiday, I’m going to have to go to the coffee shop again to get online.  I feel worse than I did yesterday and i wouldn’t go out at all if I didn’t have the insatiable need to get online and at least feel ‘connected’ to something.

I still fee like I’m eating too much. I feel guilty because I ate an apple when I woke up at 3am. Perhaps I should stop putting soy milk in my coffee and just drink it black.  Since I had a bowl of bran flakes yesterday, I’m not allowing myself to have a bowl of bran flakes again today.  While I feel like I’m losing weight around my belly and can now fit into my size 9 shorts, my arms are still disgustingly ugly. When I go to the coffee shop,  I ether drink coffee with skimmed milk or sugarless ice tea (it’s literally just cold tea with ice, not that nasty sugary chemical shit).   Now that the scars from my surgery have healed enough, I’ve started doing squats and crunches again.

I have no one to talk to in the treatment apartment that I live in. E triggered me far too much and only seemed to want to talk about the guys she’s fucked.  Christine doesn’t talk to me anymore either, even though I’ve tried knocking on her door a few times.  Nobody here likes me and some of them flat out hate me. It is getting old…I feel like I’m an outcast among outcasts.   I am insanely lonely and the loneliness is driving me insane and is further robbing me of any motivation to try to get better.  Even being in the coffee shop is tough, seeing and overhearing normal people have normal conversations.

I’m still not really getting the long-term help I need, which is help in the community.   I cannot continue like this, only able to go 2-3 places on my own (and even that is very dependent on timing).  I don’t feel safe in my apartment because I’m cut off and alone with my thoughts.  I have to get internet and soon.  Going out when I’m not well enough is doing harm, not good.   

When I weigh myself at the clinic tomorrow, I hope I’m at least below 170lbs or I’m done with food completely.  

The freak in the coffee shop 

The coffee shop is virtually empty, which I’m glad of.   I found a comfortable couch with sufficient light to read my book and socket nearby to keep my inactive / wifi only phone charged.  I don’t know what I’d do without this place. It’s the only place in Rochester where I feel both safe and somewhat normal….just another patron reading her book or playing with her phone.   I am the only loner though, as always.  I don’t get the impression that any of the “normal” people here would ever want to start a conversation with a freak like me.  But I’m not in my “cut off” apartment and I’m safe. I’ll stay here as long as I can, until it gets busy. It is Memorial Day weekend and o figured that most people would be out, making the most of the 3 day weekend and the nice weather.


But I’m lonely….lonely and wishing that I could be like them: normal, cisgender, a part of society and with friendship and love in their lives.

But I’m a freak….a freak about to humiliatingly lose a discrimination case.   I have nothing to look forward to and no one to spend any time with.  This is just marginally better than being holed up in my apartment.

“Don’t be a man in a dress”

I spent several hours at Boulder Cafe nearby yesterday, but I left around 5:30pm, when it started getting busy.

I wish I hadn’t opened the letter from the New York Division Of Human Rights.  It’s obvious that I cannot win and it has caused more dysphoria on top of the dysphoria I’m already (not) dealing with. I should’ve just left it and not complained at all.    They’re clearly not going to take any action and are only concerned with covering their own asses, rather than just apologizing for the panic attack and psychotic episode caused that Friday morning.    I’m not even safe in a state or country with good anti-discrimination laws.   Such laws are useless if they’re never going to be enforced.  According to this I’m nothing but a loiterer and I look male. You might as well just put a billet in my head:


The realist is that much of this is a lie. I was presenting female.   I had makeup on and was carrying a purse.  When the 2nd guard saw me, my head was covered up too. I truly wish I’d just stayed quiet now, because this is only hurting me more and nothing positive will come out of it that will benefit anyone else unfortunate enough to be in my position.   Assholes get away with being assholes in this society.  Look no further than the piece of shit sitting in the White House for proof of that.

It’s time for me to quit. It’s been time for me to quit for the last few years, especially after losing S and with my mental health declining to the point that I can no longer function in society. I avoid the news, but I keep hearing scary rumors on the grapevine that many of us are going to lose our healthcare soon.  I almost want it to happen to me, because that will be a sure-fire catalyst to force me to take my own life. I don’t have a future anyway,

I stopped reading my book Nightwalker, by Heather Graham at the part after the second killing took place.  The guy was roughly my age and he was killed in what the cops initially described as a “hit and run”, but it was actually a murder. This is the excerpt from the book that has added further fuel to the fire of my suicidal ideation:


I wouldn’t jump in front of a car or truck, unless one happened to be deliberately trying to mow me down.  It would be too dangerous to the driver and would traumatized him or her. But I would pick a much larger and much more fast moving object as my “way out”.  I’m not going into any more depth beyond saying I’ve have the “how and where” planned for several months. “When” is the only variable.  But to go into any further detail on a public blog would be foolish in my part.   I just know that it’s my destiny and it comforts me to know that the one element of control over my existence that I have left is that I can quit at any time.  But the paragraph is how I envisage my own death…painless and so quick that I won’t have time for a dying thought or to have to see my pathetic life flash by me, thus denying my mind one final opportunity to torment me.  

I’m not seeking attention or for anyone to save me.  This blog is a place of unfiltered honesty and I’m just expressing how I feel.  I don’t want any pity or sympathy for that represents validation of my insecurities.  I feel like I’ve not only failed at life, but failed at transition too. I tried to kill myself right before coming out as transgender for the final time, because I knew it wouldn’t work. And something my former transgender “mentor” named Jennifer told me has stuck with me:

“Don’t be a man in a dress”.

A friend of mine blasted her for saying it, but she’s right.  Transgender people are not cross-dressers, so what’s the point in presenting female when people still see you as male?  You are just setting yourself up for abuse, harassment, loneliness and being ostracized from the human race.  Caitlyn Jenner was right too when she said something along the lines of “looking like a man in a dress makes people uncomfortable”.  I can’t stand her, but she makes a good point. Passing isn’t about winning beauty contests and it’s not a pissing contest. It’s about safety.  The more you blend in, the easier your life and transition will be. And in my case, I thought I was doing relatively okay until the incident with those security guards and prior to the rejections I’ve been getting during my attempts at dating.

Now I feel like nothing more than a man in a dress. And that is the reason why I want to kill myself; not because of “haters” and not because of the fact that I’ve failed at life and that part of my depression is due to a chemical imbalance.  I want to die because I know that it’ll only get worse as I get older and uglier and even less relevant as a human being.   I want to die because I am burning with envy of people who represent what I’ll never have and who I’ll never be.  I want to die because fighting back is pointless and I don’t have the energy.  I want to die because I’m a burden to the system and someone with better genetics and a will to live could get the help that I’m getting and actually benefit from it.

Not long now, I promise.   I hope you’re enjoying witnessing my demise, although I put myself out there in the hope that someday someone with the power to change things for the better will read this and use it to help others.  No one should have to exist like this. I wouldn’t wish my life on my worst enemy.

Anyway, since the clinic is closed and I have no internet at home, I have to walk to the coffee shop while not feeling mentally well or strong enough to be in the outside world.   I will pray to god for peace and protection and to be left alone.  I can’t handle any more ‘scares’.  The coffee shop itself is safe, but walking to and from there never feels safe at all.   I will be wearing headphones to drown out all sound and sunglasses to dim the world and avoid eye contact.   

“Something Just Like This” 

** TRIGGER WARNING **

I slept relatively well last night, despite waking up twice.    Improved sleep is one added benefit of eating much less.  I had a vivid and long dream in which there was a war going on between 3 kingdoms over disputed and highly arable valley territory. I was a young princess.  I was trying to negotiate for peace.  Then I remember us all being evacuated from a burning castle, but I chose to stay and die as a martyr, but then I woke up (disoriented).

I tried to eat a salad for breakfast, but I could only manage to eat half of it and a cup of coffee.   I really can’t stand the sight of food anymore and I don’t even feel hungry, just lethargic.  I weighed myself yesterday and I’m still at 169lbs. I need to lose much more, as I still feel huge, disgusting, muscular and bloated. It goes to show that before, I was just eating out of sheer boredom. Now that eating is no longer a coping mechanism,  I am letting the rest of these ugly arm and shoulder muscles and my nasty stomach waste away and I can return to single digit clothing sizes.  If I have to start purging food, I’ll do that too, though I don’t eat enough to make that necessary.  

I vented to one of the support staff last night, but it didn’t little more than kill time.   I keep telling them that I don’t need help with living skills – I need help getting out in the community. I need internet access in my apartment more than anything.  I’ve been forcing myself out just to use the internet and that has been damaging on the days when I didn’t feel well enough to go out at all.

I don’t talk to E anymore. Part of me wants to thank her for pointing out my ugly muscles, but part of me hates her for triggering my eating disorder that I’d managed to overcome for several years since I stopped drinking.  I wish she hadn’t said anything, but then I’d still be 184lbs and blissfully unaware how disgusting my arms looked.  She hangs out with men anyway, men that live here and hate me. I don’t trust her.

As for today, I’m not sure whether to go to the clinic or the coffee shop.    I had s meltdown at the clinic yesterday because was getting overwhelmed with all the stuff going on in my life and receiving mail and not knowing what to do with it. I will probably go to the coffee shop first and read my book.

And is this sad, and pathetic or what? I look at the Craigslist personals, “missed connections” to see if anyone in Rochester noticed me in a good way.  I know it’s stupid,, but that’s how desperate I am.  But I also know that I cannot be in a relationship given my disdain for my body and fear of physical intimacy.  Asexual men are hard to find and many asexuals are aromantic, so we’d just be like friends / roommates.

My therapist tells me I need to establish a “safe space” before I start facing the outside world, but that is impossible until I get internet access in my apartment.    I’m afraid to sign up for Frontier as it’s a contract and I am transitioning from DHS cash assistance to SSD and that could take time and leave me with no income for a while.   Also, it’s $50 a month, which seems expensive.  I don’t need or want cable television.  Most of what I watch is on YouTube or Netflix.   But if I had internet, I could make this apartment my home and my safe place.   I’d only go out when I needed to and when I felt well enough. 

I don’t pay much attention to music anymore, but I love this song.   It’s the best thing Coldplay have done in 13 years, even though it’s a collaboration.   I wanted to hate it, but it grew on me quickly:

“She said, where’d you wanna go?
How much you wanna risk?
I’m not looking for somebody
With some superhuman gifts
Some superhero
Some fairytale bliss
Just something I can turn to
Somebody I can miss.”

I ended up at the coffee shop, despite the shitty rain that has been almost constant for almost a week.   

Too ugly for the outside world 

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.

Weird couple of days

I’ve had a weird couple of days. I don’t even know where to begin though as far as writing about it goes.

The bad news: the name change saga is apparently far from over.   It still has to be changed at both the DMV and DSS.  We are going to the DMV tomorrow, but I fear they will refuse to misuse me a New York drivers license in my new name because I still haven’t had my permanent resident card back yet…and that could be months away.   This means that my health insurance details won’t be able to be changed either, meaning I have to continue to put offf seeing a dentist, podiatrist and ear, nose and throat specialist.  It means that I still won’t ne able to do many things without a state ID, including feeling like I actually live here.

I met a girl from PK Cupid earlier today.  She was also transgender and I liked her company.  I don’t think she liked me though and I’d be surprised if I hear from her again.  We met at the coffee shop and drove around in her car for a while before she dropped me back home.  It’s not a big deal.  I’ve already given up on the idea of finding love, so it’s no loss as my hopes weren’t raised in the first place.  

I miss my mum, the cats and my ex wife.   I’m grateful for the help that I get here, but I’m really missing the kind of connection with other people that I need.  E doesn’t hang out with me. anymore and she has started spending time with one of the men here that don’t like me.  They probably talk shit about me…I csn feel it.  None of the men here like me and some of them flat-out hate me and scare me.  I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before something bad happens.

My care manager seems to know what he’s doing when it comes to the DMV, so hopefully I’ll have some good news by tomorrow afternoon, rather than potentially awful news.  It’s going to be hot tomorrow, so I can finally wear one of the dresses I bought at the thrift store for warmer weather.  I still need more clothes, but I need someone to come shopping with me.  I can’t even face the buses here anymore.  But I need to look as feminine as possible for the DMV tomorrow as I fear being misgendered and deadnamed due to my old IDs. 

I gained back the 8lbs that I lost, so I need to cut back on eating.  I haven’t noticed any negative effects from stopping blockers after surgery.  My body definitely isn’t producing testosterone, because I would’ve felt it by now or even smelled differently.  I’m glad that I don’t have to take medication to stop that poison from further damaging my body, especially as I never finished “male” puberty and up until 4 years ago,  I was still very slowly developing until blockers put a stop to it.

Productive Wednesday 

Yesterday wasn’t bad. I made an appointment for Friday morning work the attorney so he can give me the court order to change my legal name (finally).   I’m probably going to walk there if the weather is as beautiful as today.  It’s supposed to hit 85, which is so weird considering it seemed like just yesterday when we were dealing with winter storms and subzero temperatures.

One of the support workers took us to Walmart, where I bought cosmetics, moisturizer, body wash and a top. I’ve been prescribed a new medication that is supposed to help avoid the severity of anxiety and panic attacks.  I only fake them when I know I’m about to face a stressful and potentially panic attack provoking situation.

You’re going to think that i flip-flop as bad as Donald Trump, but I kind of gave up on men on dating sites. I know I said I didn’t want another relationship with a woman, but I’ve found one that I like so far.  She’s also transgender, which is another huge flip flop on my part.  But I’ve established my boundaries with her, even though I think I came across as a bitch. I don’t know if anything will come of it, but we both have a lot in common (including both being outsiders to Rochester and into the same music).

I might go to the nearby park by the Genessee River later and make the most of the sun and hot weather. It’s not going to last.  I’ll probably spend the evening at Boulder Cafe.  Yesterday they had live music there. It got a bit too busy and I left.  There were a lot of cute guys there, including one of tne musicians who had long hair and a beard.  There was also a man with a dog that came and said hello to me. He had a perfect body that would make for a great sculpture. If only I were normal.