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.

“ALONE”

** TRIGGER WARNING **

I feel completely marginalized from society and even from my own (transgender) community. The message I’m receiving loud and clear is hat I don’t belong on this earth. People don’t necessarily hate me…they just don’t care.

I thought the sense of loneliness and social isolation would dissipate when I left the motel, but it’s got worse. At least I had the internet there and didn’t need to go out when I didn’t feel well enough. I can’t be in my apartment because I’m “cut off”. It’s a place where I’m a danger to myself, if I linger there too long unless I’m sleeping.

I sat in the common room earlier and broke down in tears. I don’t know how long I was crying for, but there’s eye makeup all over my face. One of the residents came in,, but didn’t notice me and went ahead and stole food from the kitchen and left. I’m pretty sure he’s one of the residents that hate me.

I got tired of the pain, so I distracted myself for a while with a little body art. Don’t look at this if you’re likely to be triggered by an image of pretty low key and harness self-harm:

Making use of my ugly arms

Now I’ve obligated myself to have to go out again to publish this. I hate my fucking life.

I finished the rest of the apple I couldn’t finish this morning. That’s my food intake for the day. My huge bloated, muscular freak body doesn’t need any more feeding. I weighed myself earlier at the clinic and I’m down to 168lbs. I feel more tired and lightheaded than hungry. I did s few squats earlier, now that my surgery scars have healed sufficiently.

Goodnight…I hope you’re enjoying my slow deterioration.

Love,
The UGLY FUCK.

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….

** TRIGGER WARNING **

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.

Reasons why I cannot be in a relationship, despite longing for one…

As much as I want a relationship, I am incapable of being with anyone because:

  1. I hate myself.
  2. I’m ugly.
  3. I’d never be comfortable being naked or even semi-naked with someone.
  4. I don’t like sex because I have a very low libido and I hate what’s between my legs.
  5. I don’t even like kissing.
  6. I have too many insecurities which often lead to jealousy.
  7. I sabotage relationships as a form of self-harm.
  8. I’m not romantic at all.
  9. I failed to make any of my previous partners feel loved.
  10. Sometimes I just want to be left alone.
  11. None of my previous partners could handle my depression.
  12. I can’t trust people.
  13. I ruin people’s lives.
  14. There’s a very strong likelihood that I’ll end up taking my own life, so it would be selfish to put someone through that.
  15. I still love my ex-wife and I cannot imagine anyone coming close to replacing her.  

Fuck it….I’m better off alone.

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.