“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.   

Becca the drama queen 

I have to go to Social Security again this afternoon and I’m dreading it.  My care manager will be with me, but it’s still going to be a scary experience.  They just want to see my permanent resident card, which would be fine if I’d received the new one, but the old one has my deadname on it and an old picture of what was once me.

I told one of the counselors at the treatment housing that I’m giving up as far as socializing goes.  As soon as I get my own wifi in my apartment, I’m going to be holed up in there most of the time.  I’ve had too much exposure to the outside world and it’s left me with nothing but more self-hatred and more dysphoria.

I didn’t go out last night at all to get online as I virtually always do.  I didn’t want to bump into E, or anyone else for that matter.   I took my meds early and fell asleep sometime just after 9pm. Before that, I got through 3 chapters of my book.

The diet is going well. It consists of an apple and coffee in the morning, a bowl of bran flakes for lunch and salad for dinner.  When I weighed myself yesterday, I was down to 173lbs.  I’m not starving myself, although I am avoiding protein for a while so that my arms can finish wasting away.  While I wish E hadn’t drawn attention to my arm muscle, I’m also glad because my arms are disgusting and I never really noticed before, since I was convinced they’d wasted away sufficiently. I can’t wear tank tops anymore or dresses with straps without a cardigan.  Hopefully more than halving my daily calories and cutting out all forms of protein will help me get rid of the ugliness.  Otherwise, I really am going to have to starve myself.  As for E, I’m avoiding her completely. Even if I tried to explain to her how she’s hurt me, I don’t think she would understand.  I should’ve elaborated more when I gave my food to her on Saturday, but she didn’t seem to care anyway.  She is too wrapped up in her own issues.

I made peace with Holly the other day.  I realized that she didn’t do anything to me maliciously. She was a good friend at one point.    It isn’t worth holding a grudge over, especially as she has her own problems to deal with.

I am giving up on meeting new people though.  It isn’t with the risk to my mental health and I’ve really only ever made friends online.  None of the residents in my apartment building seem like they could be potential friends.   Several of them have already managed to trigger me and I have a reputation of being rude, just because I don’t say hello.  I feel like people just see me as a freak and many of them hate me.   

If I can’t make friends, I still need help with going out.   I still haven’t been able to leave my comfort zone of the 4 ‘safe places’ that I have here in Rochester.   If I had a friend willing to go out with me, it would help enormously, but since that isn’t likely to happen, I’m rather stuck.  I want to go to school when he next semester starts, but I’m not sure how I’ll cope with being in a classroom or how I’ll even get there, given my fear of buses here.

I miss my mum, but I don’t know how to deal with what felt like her turning her back on me when I thought I’d never be able to get my name changed here.   She’s getting older and it pains me to think that I might never see her again.    I’ve got no plans to return to the UK and won’t be able to afford to visit until the day comes when I’m back on my feet and working.    I’m not one to hold grudges, but I am not willing to grovel to get her to speak to me again.   We are very different people, except for the fact that we are both stubborn and hard-headed and locked into a certain way of thinking.    Many arguments were started by me when I felt that I could never connect with her on an emotional level.  She’s great with practical stuff and being logical, whereas I am all about feelings and emotions.  Her husband is a good guy, but I remember the time he called me a “drama queen”.   Compared to the rest of my family, I can’t really disagree with him.    I hate to admit that part of me thrives on drama and it’s a huge character flaw of mine.   
Anyway, back to worrying about going to Social Security later.,..,

Sunday morning – depressed and ugly

Sunday morning and day 2 of the “diet”.  I already had my food intake for the day, which was an apple and a cup of coffee to counter the grogginess I feel due to my meds.  I gave the last of my food to E and she gave some of it to another resident.   I didn’t mind, because at least I know it’ll feed someone else and won’t go to waste.   I asked her to promise me that she wouldn’t tell anyone that I am essentially starving myself.  She kind of owes me one after she was the one who made the comment about my arm muscles that has triggered this, although I was highly self-conscious and disgusted by my arms before she said anything.  She just validated my insecurities, which is what ‘well meaning’ people seem to be great at doing lately.

I feel depressed, but this latest depressive spell has been lingering since Thursday, with no sign of shifting.  I tried hanging out with E yesterday, but after a while I started feeling too bad and went back to my apartment and crashed.  I just don’t feel like there’s any hope for me at all.  I’m wasting time and valuable resources by simply existing because I’m too afraid that if I attempt suicide, I’ll fail.

I don’t know what to do with myself today.  I don’t feel up to going to the coffee shop and I don’t have the head to sit and read my book.  I cleaned my apartment from top to bottom yesterday, as the scars from my surgery don’t hurt as much as they did.  I don’t feel like socializing with E as she tends to talk about her family a lot and her ex boyfriends and her experiences with girls. At least she has a family here.  I might try to take the bus to the grocery store this evening, when I know there won’t be many people out.  I’ll just buy more apples, green tea, soy milk, bran flakes and diet soda to swallow my medication.   I also need moisturizer to keep my uglyface hydrated as I have such horrible, ugly dry skin otherwise.  I don’t want to have to carry a lot because I need my ugly arm muscles to waste away.  

Hopefully the food cravings will go soon and will be replaced by tiredness and weakness.  Having much less energy won’t be a bad thing, because the energy  I have is restless energy. I can’t turn it into anything productive because I can’t even go out that much on my own.   Hopefully I’ll shrink back to a size 8 like I was 2 years ago and my ugly arm and shoulder muscles will waste away.    

I know I sound like a broken record….


Day 1 of the diet and I’ve eaten all I’m going to eat all day – an apple.   I’ll keep drinking plenty of water. I have to do this in the hope that my ugly arms and shoulders will waste away and my stomach will return to its formerly flat state.  I hate food and what it’s done to me.
The community meeting last Thursday featured a discussion on peer-to-peer support and a monthly meet up group for residents and their “family and friends”.  I wish I hadn’t gone to the community meeting a all. I don’t have any family or friends here. And even if my family did live here, they wouldn’t go to something like that.  My mum has stopped talking to me since we fell out a month or so ago.  My dad just thinks I’m a pain in the ass and a drug addict. None of my half siblings talk to me and I have no desire to reach out to them.  Friends?   The only true friend I have left lives 2 states away.  The meeting just left me feeling even more lonely and worthless.  It’s part of the reason why I can’t shake off this latest depressive spell.  I will say that my family (including me) could have benefited from family therapy back when I was a child then teenager, but even if it were possible, it’s too late now. 

I keep wondering if I should email my mum, but I can’t get over how she not only refused to help me get back to the UK, but also tried to dissuade me from coming back at all.  At the time, my legal name change was in major doubt and I was terrified of losing my healthcare.  If I reach out to her, she will make me grovel and she will make me feel guilty.  I’m not sure if I can deal with that right now, but I feel like I quite literally have no one.  She will claim that I hate her and don’t care about her, which isn’t true.  I actually enjoyed staying with her last year and doing things with her, such as the day that we went to Lincoln together on the bus.  

I am not sure if hanging out with E is a good idea.   She doesn’t have a filter and she has already managed to trigger my dysphoria by “pointing out” my ugly muscular arms.  She only seems to want to talk about the people she’s slept with or dated and her family.  I keep thinking “At least you have a family and at least men find you attractive”.

This weekend is going to be extremely difficult.   I got rid of my food, so I can’t comfort eat.  I know the hunger will be tough for the first 2 days or so, then I’ll just start to feel tired and my appetite will lessen (based on past experience of starving myself).  At least having anxiety and weekend anxiety will make it impossible for me to go out and buy more food, even if I get tempted.  I want to avoid E and everyone else.  I don’t know what I’m going to do to kill time and take my mind off the boredom, loneliness and emptiness.  Self-harm is always an option, though I have to be careful not to get caught doing that.

I know that I sound like a broken record and I know that people are reading this blog and enjoying watching me suffer.  But I’ll say it again: I’m sick of being ugly, scared and alone.  I am grateful for the help I’ve received, but take that away and I’ve got nothing.   I’m never going to be happy as long as I’m trapped inside this disgusting body and tormented by my broken mind.  I’m done with trying to meet people here in Rochester (dating and friends) because they’ve all hurt / rejected me for being too ugly.

New anti-dysphoria diet 

I’m done with my disgusting body. I’m not going to completely starve myself, but all I’m eating from here on in is one apple and bran flakes with skimmed milk. I’m eliminating protein from my diet completely and cutting calories down to 200 a day, if that. And maybe I will starve myself if I feel like it’s possible. At the very least, my disgusting belly and disgusting manly arm and shoulder muscles will waste the fuck away and will never come back. I fucking hate my monstrosity 182lb body. I’m done with food and I’m donating the pasta, eggs, potatoes, rice and dried beans to the food cupboard on Monday so that somebody else can benefit from it.  Obviously giving up meat wasn’t enoogh and I need to slash my calories.  

If I get sick, so be it. I’d rather get sick and become frail than continue to see what I see in the mirror and have people comment on my arm muscles.   It’s bad enough being freakishly TALL without looking like a linebacker ans having people comment on my arm muscles. 

And before tou ASSUME that i must have high teaosterone, I’ve been on blockers for almost 4 years and my counts were always either extremely low or untraceable and I’ve had an orchiectomy done.   

DONE with feeding this DISGUSTING BODY. 

“Blow Up The Outside World” 

I had a bad dream last night that involved one of my younger brothers becoming a parent and my jealousy and envy of them.  I know most people probably wouldn’t understand why such a thing would cause me pain, but I have always felt inferior to my 2 younger half brothers.  They are normal, successful, married and not afflicted with the ugly gene that has ruined my life.

The dream plus my dysphoria has left me feeling extremely low. It was a challenge to even get out of bed this morning and take a shower, but I cannot be in my apartment for too long as I am quite literally “cut off” from the outside world.

Chris Cornell’s death is really affecting me.  I listened to an hour long tribute to his life and music on the radio last night on the Nikki Sixx show.  I knew Chris suffered from depression, but I never thought that he’d take his own life or die before his time like many of the other tortured grunge era musicians.    I also thought of an (almost) ex girlfriend of mine who was utterly obsessed with Soundgarden and Chris Cornell. She must be devastated.

I feel utterly burned out for some reason. I think I did too much socializing yesterday.  I think my dysphoria is getting the better of me.   Too much “outside world” exposure and rejection have done a number on me. I’ve given up on the idea of dating and ever becoming functional. I’ve largely given up on myself too.  It’s a permeating sense of defeat that is only going to continue to eat away at me until I can no longer take it.

I’m going to starve myself after I’ve used the food I have left.   I feel like a bloated, huge ugly monster.   I still have too much muscle in my upper arms and shoulders, despite being on HRT for over 3 1/2 years and not producing teaosterone.  If I starve myself, I’ll waste away.   It’ll make me sick, but I don’t care.   I’m disgusted by my body and by food.  I wanted to put a bullet in my head when E noticed the muscle in my right arm.   

I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and the feeling is only getting more intense as I get older.  Society has changed, I have no love in my life and most of my idols are dead.  I can’t even look at the news anymore because it scares me to death.  I feel like I’m just waiting to die.

Disgusted by what I see in the mirror 

There’s a reason why I don’t do a whole lot with makeup.  I can’t stand looking at my ugly face in the mirror for more than a few minutes. My ugly face is the root cause of most of my problems.  Putting on makeup is the equivalent of putting glitter on a turd….no matter how much it sparkles, it still looks and smells like a turd.  What I see in the mirror disgusts me to the point that I want to hurt myself or smash the mirror.  This face must be some sort of practical joke played on me or a punishment for something awful that I did in a previous life.  No wonder nobody wants to be with me.