I feel disgusting, scared and dysphoric 

I’ve been in a major funk since I woke up at 2am. I did manage to leave my apartment, albeit just to take out the trash.  Where I differ from many other people who struggle work mental illness is that I have never had a problem maintaining cleanliness. Unfortunately that makes me look more functional, which works against me.

My dysphoria is as he as its ever been at any point in my life. I’ve been on a downward slide as far as dysphoria is concerned since the security guard harassed and misgendered me over 6 weeks ago.  Also, I believe my hormone levels are still off post-orchiectomy.  At my last count 2 weeks ago, my testosterone level was 150-something – higher than it’s been since I started blockers back in August 2013.  The nurse practitioner said it’s perfectly normal after such a procedure and that it’ll disappear from my bloodstream.  However, I feel disgusting. My hair feels greasy even though I wash it daily. I smell different and my depression is becoming quite the monster.   I started taking the locker again, but my body isn’t producing testosterone, but why do I feel so nasty?  How long is it supposed to take to pass through my system? This is stressing me out so badly and just adding to my dysphoria.  My anxiety is severe and I’m hyper-sensitive to sound and light.  I feel like it has to be that poison….testosterone.  

I can’t fade going to the transgender group tomorrow – not in this frame of mind. I wish I knew what was going on with my body.  I don’t feel well at all. I wish I had a friend here or just someone I could go to. But loneliness is a lesser worry right now.

I’m going to have to do what I haven’t done for over 14 years because there’s simply no other way.      I don’t want to think or feel anymore.  

“Something Just Like This” 


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.   

I don’t belong in the outside world…please just leave me alone!

I’m at the clinic because I have therapy and I have to see my care manager about a “change” (I think he’s pushing me off to someone else).

I managed to go out and buy a few groceries last night, despite the persistent rain and my severe anxiety.   The bus was virtually empty both ways.  I bought apples, romaine lettuce, bran flakes, tomatoes, tea and soy milk.  That is essentially going to be my diet from now on. I can’t starve myself, but I can come close, without screwing up my metabolism.   I also bought moisturizer for my uglyface. 

I’m tired of the residents in my building.  I know some of them hate me and some of them downright scare me.  E has triggered more dysphoria in me after she noticed muscles in my arms.  She keeps talking about sex too, so now I have to avoid her completely.

In fact, I’ve got to the point where I just want to be left alone.   I’ve given up on making friends and dating, especially here in Rochester.  Once I know how much I’ll be getting on SSD,  I’ll figure out if I can afford to get the internet in my apartment.  That way, I won’t NERD to go out every day.  I’ll still go out, but only at certain times (e.g. late Sunday night) when I know it’s safer. My mum did leave me some money for the installation, so that is covered.  I still need to know how much it’ll be monthly. I don’t care about cable television or getting a cell phone. Once I have wifi in my apartment, I can make cheap calls through an app that I downloaded.  I was better off when I was almost solely an online entity.  The outside world is far too frightening and I’ve had almost nothing but negative interactions with others. I have more control online;  I can’t block people and report them. You can’t do that in the outside world.

I read some more of my book yesterday, before I got overwhelmed with sadness, tears streaming down my face.  I had to leave the common room, although no one saw me.    I keep bumping into a guy that lives here who flat out hates me.  He seems to be everywhere.  He looks at me with such hate and disgust that I can feel it.  I’m sure he’d love to beat me to death to get rid of the freak, as would many other residents here.
I tried talking to the support worker on duty last night about how awful I feel about my body, but she just didn’t get it.  Her response was “everyone has something they hate about themselves”.  Well I hate almost everything about myself. She is one of the beautiful people and she could get any guy that she wanted. No cisgender person can compare how they feel about their body to how I feel about mine.   She’s a good person, but I think the conversation did more harm than good.

Why don’t people like me?

One of my earliest memories of starting school was when one of my classmates told me “You can’t play with us…you’re not one of us”.  It set the precedent for the rest of my life, although as I got dragged into adulthood and got older, the feeling of not being liked has intensified and has sound basis from real experiences with people.

So why don’t people like me and why am I continually ignored, as if I were an ugly stain on the earth that people would rather ignore than even acknowledge?

Is it because I’m ugly?
Is it because people can see how unhappy I am?
Is it because I’m not approachable?
Is it because I’m transgender (though this would only apply to the last 4 years)?
Am I afflicted with some sort of curse that repels people?

I refuse to accept loneliness, because NO human being should be told to accept something so painful that goes against our ingrained need to socialize.   I am not an introvert or a hermit.  You cannot tell me to love (or eben like) myself, because to society, I am the human equivalent of feces or something else equally as unpleasant.

Unable to love or be loved

I feel more anxious / keyed up than usual and it’s not a pleasant feeling.  It’s a nervous energy; it makes me restless and unable to relax.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love again, even if someone was really interested in me.  I’m so terrified at the thought of letting someone in and giving them access to my already damaged heart.   I don’t want to go through the anguish of getting attached to someone, then getting hurt.   Since I broke up with S, I’ve dated people that I honestly didn’t care much for beyond friendship.  That way, I didn’t get as badly hurt when it all went sour.  With the exception of S, I’ve never found anyone with whom the romantic attraction was mutual, rather than one-sided.  Perhaps that was for the best, because the people I’ve been attracted to were either taken or they’d have hurt me.  Perhaps S  was my only true love and I’ll never experience that again in this existence.  As grim of a reality as that is, S is more than worthy of being someone’s only true love.  

I feel like I have nothing to offer anyone personality-wise and I’m not even nice to look at. As I hate mysslf for many reasons, it would be logical to assume that people aren’t attracted to me for many of the same reasons.   Even if I were capable of loving (or simply liking) mysslf, it would not make my flaws disappear, nor would it change the way that people perceive me.  So why should I lie to mysslf?

I don’t know why I spend so much time thinking about love and relationships, when both are out of reach.  Anyone remotely interested in me would have to break through the impenetrable layer of ice that my mind created to shield my heart from any further damage.  If anyone gets too close, I’ll just push them away and sabotage the connection through self-hate.

It’s a lost cause.  I’m in for a very lonely future, while being forced to see others experience these things that are out of reach for me.  

Tormented by my thoughts (the effects of prolonged social isolation)

The pain is back. It just sort of springs up on me sometimes out of nowhere.  I’ve endured more than I can take of this social isolation and being largely confirmed to this depressing motel room and the continuous noise triggers here that are driving me insane.  I won’t get to talk to an actual human being until Wednesday, which seems like a fucking eternity, as time drags so slowly.

I can’t even go out, because it’s the weekend.  I have no money for food and no food left, except a nasty instant noodle bowl that will probably just make me feel disgusting rather than stop me from feeling hungry.  I’ve been periodically doing squats and sit-ups to try to keep active, as I can’t go out.  I can’t focus enough to read, there’s nothing on television and I’m tired of unloading my problems on my online friends and my mum.

Taking full responsibly for being in this situation is proving to be extremely difficult and is causing me to loathe myself and I don’t think I can stop myself from self-harming.  My mind is racing, tormenting me with thoughts such as “you fucked up your life” and “you are weak and pathetic”.   The nightmare I experienced earlier about being shoved in a nursing home with elderly people has left me with lingering depression.

I thought I was managing earlier. I had an English Premier League football game on playing in the background.  I wasn’t really watching it, but it made me feel nostalgic about the UK I left behind in 2004; before the recession of 2008:and Brexit ruined it for me.  I know that UK is now gone forever and it breaks my heart.

I hate this room and I bare living in a motel, in a city where I’ve no friends.

Lonely, ugly people (me)

Rebecca Tall n’ Ugly

“Eww, look at all the ugly people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Rebecca Tall n’ Ugly
Looks in the mirror at disgust at the reflection ishe sees
So many deformities
Longing for company, but being transgender and ugly means she’s forever alone.
Without a home

Lonely ugly people
Where do they all come from?
Lonely ugly people
Where do they all belong?”