“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.   

The outside world continues to hurt me 

I went grocery shopping late last night, as it had stopped raining and I couldn’t bear to be in my apartment.

I walked to the bus stop, caught the #31 bus and bought groceries without incident.  I bought unsweetened soy milk and apples -most of my diet.  I felt weak, tired and disoriented and gave the cashier the wrong money, but I was too tired to feel embarrassed or stupid.  I then had to wait just over an hour for the next 31 bus home.

However, on the bus ride back, a man kept laughing uncontrollably. I had my headphones on and music playing, but I’m convinced that I was his target.  I was too scared to look his direction and on the verge of tears.  I dropped one of my grocery bags like so idiot as I got off the bus, feeling humiliated and ugly, my worst insecurities validated by the outside world once again.  

I struggled carrying my bags back home, partly because I didn’t want to use my right arm, because that is where E noticed the muscles.  I got back around 11:45pm, took mg medication and fell sleep pretty quickly, as I was exhausted.  I cried myself to sleep over what happened on the bus and would’ve self-harmed if I’d had the energy.  I thought about S and how much I miss her.

The clinic won’t be open on Monday as it’s Memorial Day. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with myself.  I can’t usually face going to Boulder Coffee at weekends, because of the WRPs (weekend and evening people).   I still have no internet and no phone in my apartment.

I bumped into C at the clinic yesterday. She said she lost her phone and that’s why she hadn’t emailed me back.  I was feeling down and told her I would definitely consider going back on drugs.  She mentioned heroin, but I don’t want to go down that route just yet and I’m not sure if she was serious or not. I’ve got morning left to lose though.  I’m so ugly that people laugh at me on public transportation and I can’t find friends or find love.  I don’t see myself ever getting better, just older and uglier.  What’s the point in being sober when I’m slowly dying anyway?  Next time I see her I’m going to see what she can get.  Maybe escapism is the only way.  

I sent a long email to one of my brothers (the one I’m closest to) and he hasn’t responded.   I think he’s washed his hands of me completely, which I understand, given that he’s probably ashamed of me and embarrassed by me.   Perhaps he thinks I just used him.   I reached out to my mother too, but her response was cold and indifferent and I don’t know what to say to her.

I’ve already eaten my food quota for the day: 1 apple and a cup of coffee with soy milk.    If I haven’t lost any more weight by Tuesday or if my arm and shoulder musicales don’t start going away, I’m going to start purging food.   I can’t take this anymore; being a huge freak and a monster.  I’m not trying to kill myself by doing this, but that would definitely be an added bonus. I wish I could rid myself of my height too, so when I see the podiatrist I’m going to ask about getting the lower part of my legs amputated and my ugly feet replaced with prosthetics. Since the medication to help me breathe more easily trough my huge UGLY nose isn’t making any difference,  I hope I’ll be able to get a rhinoplasty. In the meantime, what I can control is what I eat.  When these muscles disappear maybe I’ll be able to resume a semi-normal diet again or maybe I’ll get lucky and die.

Who cares.

“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.   

Slowly fading away…

I missed an appointment with DHS because the letter went to wrong person. For one,  I’m scared they’ll stop my money and secondly, the thought of having to go back there is terrifying and is giving me nausea. Plus there’s the stress work setting up SSD and having to keep going there.  I don’t think people understand how much those places give me ridiculous amounts of anxiety for days before any appointment.  I’ve had enoogh of being made to go to these places, where I have to sit among dozens of people who are threats to me and deal with the noise and fear of misgendering and being treated like a criminal.   The waiting rooms of those places are as scary to me as school playgrounds were.   

I feel so tucking low and I don’t want to be around anyone, but I have no choice because I need to be online.  I can’t be in my “cut off” apartment and I can’t get internet in there until my income issues have been resolved with DHS / Social Security.  I am still in limbo….survival mode. One more bad experience will send me over the edge.

I’ve almost completely lost interest in food.  I couldn’t even finish the apple I had for breakfast this morning and I have no appetite.  I just feel physically and mentally worn out from worrying and being forced to be in the outside world when I’m not mentally well enough. I don’t care about food.  If they stop my benefits, I won’t be able to buy food or anything else anyway.  All I really need is diet soda to swallow my medication, coffee and water.  At least my ugly arm and shoulder muscles will waste away and I’m glad the food cravings have gone and have been replaced by tiredness and lethargy.

I just want to be left alone. Believe me when I say that I’ve given up as far as being a part of the human race is concerned. I’m going to tell E and everyone else to leave me alone.   Don’t talk to me and don’t look at me. By the time anyone realizes what I’m doing, it’ll be to late.   I can’t take this pain anymore.   I can’t take any more scares or exposure to the outside world.

This is my message to you all:

“I know you hate me and I know I’m repulsive to look at because I’m so ugly, but I hate myself a million times more than you hate me.”

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.,..,

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.

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.