“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.

Loneliness is destructive 

Once again, I slept poorly. I did try my hardest to stay up as late as I could, but as I sat in the empty ground floor common room alone,  I started feeling extremely depressed and I had to call it a night just before 9pm.  I couldn’t go out to use the internet because it was pouring with rain.   To make matters worse, it’s snowing now and even colder. Rochester’s weather is definitely trying to make my life as difficult as it possibly can.  The weather is always at its worst at evenings and weekends, which is when I need to get online.  While I waited for the Seroquel to kick in, I tried to listen to the local alternative station, but they keep playing the same songs that I can’t stand over and over again, from god-awful overrated bands such as Imagine Dragons and some other stupid band called Catfish And The Bottlemen.   I don’t know what happened to music, but it’s a lost cause.

I had a nightmare involving S and one of my old cats that died 10 years ago.   I don’t remember much about it, but it was enough to upset me.   I woke up just after 2am, in pain from lumbar spinal stenosis and unable to get back to sleep.   I can’t do anything about the spinal stenosis until my name is changed.   I’ve had it for most of my adult life, but it only hurts when I am lying down or sat down in one position for too long and it’s not degenerative.

I went to the biweekly community meeting, but it was pointless.  I felt severely awkward and anxious throughout and didn’t say anything.   The property manager isn’t getting wifi for the building and even if the building was cable ready, I wouldn’t be able to afford it.   I don’t understand why they can’t just provide wifi for the entire building, especially as many residents (including me) would pay a contribution towards it that would most likely cover the costs of buying a few routers and a new server.   I have no internet and no phone.   If I ever need to contact someone when I’m in my apartment, I won’t be able to. It’s going to be bitterly cold on Saturday, which is going to make the weekend even more lonely and unbearable.

I’ve pretty much written off my chances of making a friend in this community.   I don’t feel comfortable or safe here yet and I can’t see anything changing in that sense.  I’ve been here 6 weeks now and if anything,  I’ve only become more reclusive and more afraid of people.  The staff here are nice enough, but I don’t like to keep bothering them.  I do not feel comfortable with going to the groups or activities they have here.   I need help with going out, such as someone accompanying me to shops that I’ve never been to before, cafes, gyms, libraries and someone to come with me on the buses here, which I’m scared to use on my own.   They do have group shopping trips, but they always seem to clash with my medical or care management appointments and I miss out.  It’s never certain that I’ll feel confident enough on any given day to go grocery shopping alone on the bus.

I don’t know what to do anymore.  I feel no less lonely and isolated than I did at the motel.  At least I had the internet there and never needed to go out at weekends or evenings.  Loneliness is a major catalyst as far as my suicidal ideation is concerned.  It makes me hate myself that much more and validates all of my insecurities.   It robs me of any slither of motivation that I have to try to get better, because I ask myself “What’s the point, when I’m going to be alone forever?” .

While at the clinic yesterday afternoon, one of the other clients there did engage me.  He’s a veteran and he was at the nutrition group I went to. He was doing most of the talking, but I didn’t mind.  When I told him about how I got harassed by 3 men last Saturday evening at a local Family Dollar, he said he’d have stood up for me if he’d been there.  I didn’t doubt him for one second.  Those stupid thug bullies would be no match for a combat veteran.  I found myself wishing that I had a boyfriend like that, or just a friend willing to protect me.  It would make an enormous difference, put it that way.   I feel guilty and weak for having PTSD at all, because I’ve never been in combat or seen anyone die.   My PTSD was caused by things that many people go through and just deal with.  My triggers would sound ridiculous to someone that had been in combat.   And before you silently ask yourself  “She talked to that person, so why can’t she talk to others?”, bear in mind that it was only him and I in the care management waiting room and it’s a very controlled and safe environment.    Had he enagaged me when other people were around, I would’ve shut down and politely walked away. 

My existence has become nothing more than an endless series of gauntlets, obstacles, bad surprises and setbacks.  I live in fear of what might happen next and I don’t like to think about the future. I’m tired of being so alone and so ugly.  

The pain of losing a soulmate 

I had a nightmare involving S (my ex-wife) on Wednesday night.   I forgot to write about it because I’ve been too preoccupied with my name change. 

I know that I probably shouldn’t write about her, mainly because I’m scared that she will find this blog one day and will think that I haven’t let go.  But I can’t not write about her.  Of all the people that have come and gone from my life since childhood, she is by far the most important to me and the one in which I shared a strong bond with.  Nobody knew me as much as S did, not even my own family.  I’ve loved others, but not in the same way or with the same intensity.  I don’t think she ever believed that I loved her, because during few time we were together,  I was unable to show it and we were living as roommates rather than soulmates.  I remember the day in the early summer of 2011, when a particularly toxic ex of mine decided to track S down on Facebook and tell her about me.  But even before that, we were most likely going to split up. S had asked for a separation just a few weeks prior.

I often think to myself that we could have had a wonderful lifelong relationship had it not been for my gender identity or our mental illnesses.  I can still see another version of S and I in another dimension, living happily ever after in New England with 2 kids and us both being writers, doing what we love, rather than trapped in dead and jobs that we both hated.  We would be financially comfortable, but not rich. And in the same dimension, our families would be loving and supportive.  We would take the kids to the UK every year to see my parents.  We would take trips down to Florida 3-4 times a year to see S’s parents and her brother.  Our kids would go off to college and we’d grow old together.

While I don’t give a damn about myself, I do care about S and I always found it so hard to see her in pain.  Not only was I helpless, but my issues actually made it worse for her. In my last but one email to S,  I told her that while I am glad that I found her and had her in my life for as long as I did, I wish she’d never have met me, for her sake. I did not mean to hurt her, but it was inevitable.  I betrayed her trust in me and became just like everyone else who had betrayed her trust in the past.

I don’t want her forgiveness and I will never forgive myself for this.  I took away 9 years of her life. In those 9 years, she could’ve met someone better and gone to school. She would never have been burdened with me or my issues.

Saturday morning: loneliness and self-loathing 

The abdominal pains never fully came back, although i still don’t feel quite right.  I woke up not that long ago after having a nightmare about my (former) stepdad. He was threatening me and putting me down, which is something he sometimes did.  I haven’t seen him in 20 years and he can go to hell for what he did to me and to my mother.  

I’ve started reading another book called Safe Haven.  I think it might be a bit too triggery though, as it is set in this era and already it is reminding me of what I’m missing out, what I’ll never have and what I’ll never be.

I wasn’t at the clinic for long yesterday. I couldn’t find anywhere quiet to sit, as it was too chaotic in care management.  One of the staff who I often see there came and hugged me and sat by me for a bit.  He’s cute and is always nice to me, but I know it’s just what he’s paid to do and I never know what to say to him.  Then a woman I’d spoken to before asked me if I had a boyfriend yet and that made me feel worse. Why would I?  I’m too ugly for that. She asked me the same question 2 weeks ago.   

I feel incredibly lonely right now and the weekend has barely started.  I can’t wait until the weekend is over and all the WEPs (Weekend and Evening People) go back to work and school so that I don’t feel trapped inside my apartment. WEP’s give me the most anxiety and also remind me of what I’m missing out on: a normal life complete with love, a family, a career and at least looking normal, rather than a tall, ugly freak.  WEP’s are also a greater threat as far as potential harassment goes.  I’ve felt the same about them even before I transitioned. I could deal with them when I had a partner and we’d go to the movies or to a restaurant.  I didn’t feel as self-conscious because I blended in back then and aside from my ugliness, there was little about me that made me stand out.

Rochester’s weather is making my life very difficult, as fab as getting out is concerned.  It’s not much warmer than it was during the snowstorm 2 weeks ago, but now it’s raining non-stop.  I worry that the makeup I plaster on my ugly face will get ruined by walking in the rain for more than a few minutes.  That is the last thing I want, because I’m self-conscious enough as it is about my hideous appearance.  Winters here are much harsher than my native UK.  While London has been enjoying spring temperatures for a month, there’s no sign of spring here yet.  Summer had better be good.  I’m so sick of being indoors. And having to wear clothing that makes me look big as well as tall when I go out.  

I tried to stand outside the clinic to use the wifi last night, but the rain was coming down and my fingers were too cold and numb to type anything. I couldn’t go anywhere else, especially on a Friday night.  As I was standing there, the sound of cars beeping and speeding and rowdy people hollering was making me extremely anxious.  I turned my uglyface to the wall, so that none of the rowdy WEP’s would see it.   I’m sure I look suspicious standing there and I hope that I don’t get told to leave, back to my apartment where I am completely cut off from the world.

I keep seeing a wifi network pop up on my non-phone that the staff use, but no one knows the password.   I don’t know why they can’t just provide wifi for the residents. I’d be willing to contribute for it, as would others.  Most of us can’t afford cable or the installation fees they charge. I don’t have a phone and I can’t get one until Social Security change my name.  I can’t stand feeling cut off during the times when I feel the most lonely and isolated.

Anyway, I’m going to boil my usual 2 eggs for breakfast and head over to the pharmacy side of the clinic for a few hours.   It’s open today until noon, so I need to make the most of that.   I don’t know what I’ll do for the rest of the day.  My head feels too scrambled to read and m.y stomach feels too fragile to exercise.  I’m running out of food, but I can’t go grocery shopping until I get paid on Wednesday.

I’m too ugly to be loved anyway….

I had a nightmare about being back at high school and being shouted at by a teacher for failing to do my homework and for my poor attendance.  The other kids were laughing at me and celling me “mong” and “retard” – which I was often called during that time.  I remember sitting down at a desk at the bask of the classroom and burying my head in my hands and covering my ears, because I didn’t want to hear the bullies.  I woke uo from the nightmare around 3am and have been awake since. It’s just wonderful that the self-torment doesn’t stop, even when I sleep.

T emailed me.  He’d just been very busy at work.  I’ve probably ruined it now though by sending him this last night:

He seemed okay about it, but I’m pretty sure I’ve scared him off.  And I’m still not sure what he wants from me anyway and I still believe that he just feels sorry for me, rather than actually likes me   I don’t deserve anyone though.   I’m far too messed up and I get attached way too easily.  I thought I’d got better, but I’ve actually got worse. I guess it’s been a long time since I’ve actually liked anyone.

Although I didn’t make the community meeting yesterday, my service coordinator emailed me to say that the move-in date is the 28th of this month, which is a week on Tuesday.  While I’m very relieved, I am also scared at the same time. I’ve never been ‘liked’ anywhere I’ve lived, at school or at any job I’ve worked at.  I hope people don’t hate me or trigger me with comments about my ugliness or my height. Anyway,  I have 11 nights left at the mot-hell and 2 more weekends to get through, so it’s fat from over yet.  During this time, I need to really think about whether it’s even worth trying to get better.  I don’t see how my ‘unwanted existence’ will ever become at least tolerable, because I know that love and happiness are out of reach..

A nightmare about being placed in a nursing home 

I just woke from a horrible nightmare that I kept drifting in and out of.  It’s made me realize that I never want to become elderly.

For whatever reason, my mum and my care manager had gone behind my back and I was moved into a nursing home. The room they put me in had no window and smelled of chemicals and death. I kept asking the nurses why I’d been put here.  I got a call from my insurance company saying that they weren’t going to pay the bill and the person on the phone kept calling me “sir”, so I hung up and smashed my phone.  I’d left all of my hormones and blockers behind, but no one was willing to retrieve them for me, so I started to panic.  Then a large male nurse gave me an injection that put me to sleep. 


Then I found myself in another room, where my mum was berating me for something I’d done to deserve being imprisoned here.  An old lady had just died in one of the nearby beds in the same room, which was more reminiscent of a small hospital ward, with 4-5 beds.  

The next morning, I escaped. I found my mum, brother and care manager all casually eating breakfast at a nearby outdoor cafe.   I kept asking them why they’d put me in an old people’s home, but they just ignored me.  I then crashed my wheelchair into the table they were sitting at to get their attention, which is when I woke up finally.

I don’t ever want to get old. What the point anyway, unless you have children and grandchildren to exist for and a partner to grow old with?  The nightmare has left me feeling very low and has also left me with a sickening feeling of dread and nausea.  

There’s no logical reason to carry on  

A combination of my transition and the trauma I’ve experienced over the last 5 1:2 years has caused me to become so easily triggered.  It’s one of the main reasons why I cannot deal with people anymore – the fear that they’ll say something unintentionally triggering.

I managed to walk to the convenience store last might.  Much of the snow had melted, but it still hasn’t been cleared from most of the sidewalks, so I had to walk along the side of the busy road.  I bought enough packaged, canned and frozen slop to last a few days.  I’m so tired of eating shitty food that I no longer want to eat at all.


While I’m still here, I want to try to adjust my sleep pattern to sleeping during the day.  This is to avoid being awake during the day, when the noise at this motel is at its worst.  Since I don’t have a job or a life, there’s no reason for ms to have to be awake during the day anyway (I’m sorry that I’m such a loser).  If I take enough Seroquel, I should be able to knock myself out for a few hours.  I just can’t stand the banging anymore, which is driving me insane (among other things).

I had a weird dream just now involving my stepdad and a girl I’d met.  We were all going on some sort of canal boat holiday.  He was laughing and joking with me; it felt like I was part of a normal family and had a normal life.  Then I woke up, to the four walls of my room illuminated by the glow of the television, alone.  The lingering headache still hasn’t gone away; it’s too early to get up, but too late to go back to sleep.

There is nothing ‘good’ left in my life.  This is a nightmare that I’m never going to wake up from.  Please give me the strength and courage to do what I need to do, before I totally lose my mind.  Please.