Positivity

Sitting in the shadow of self-doubt and melancholy, I find myself striving to see the positive around me. In an effort to try and dust off my rose coloured glasses, I’m going to attempt to make a list of that which is positive and good, that which I am grateful for. Some things may be little, some things may be big, but they’re all things that matter in some way.

A Bit O’ This, A Bit O’ That…

Note: It’s taken me several days to complete this post. I start it, delete everything, start over. I think I’ve done that 3 times.

It’s been a little while since I last posted. I don’t even have a very good excuse as to why I haven’t been posting, only that I guess I’ve been having issues formulating my thoughts into prose.

My partner spent most of last week at a friend’s house, giving us both a break, which was kind of nice. The environment at home had become somewhat volatile, between her bipolar episode and my hormones, so space was a necessity.

I missed her, and I don’t sleep well alone, so by the time she came home on Sunday it was good to have her back… For about a day.

By the end of the day on Tuesday, she was acting sullen and cranky again.

The Awkward Stage

More and more I’m finding myself in this strange gender limbo. There have been discussions in regards to passing, and how a lot of younger trans men are obsessed with passing. That’s all they think about. That’s all they care about.

I know I will never be a mountain man of a man. I’ll always be a little on the soft side, I think. But this awkward stage I’m currently in is a little frustrating.

Like the K in Knife

There was a status shared by a friend on Facebook yesterday, regarding Carmen Carrera and the whole RuPaul/”tranny”/”shemale” thing. Now, I’ll be honest. I don’t follow Carmen Carrera on any social media. I don’t watch Drag Race (for a number of reasons), and am not all crazy fanboy over the queens on the show. I do know, however, that Carmen has been one of the biggest voices against RuPaul using terms like “tranny” on the show. She finds it offensive. Frankly, so do I. But who the hell cares what I think. I’m no one. I’m certainly not a famous RuPaul queen. But the status that was shared (I went to look for it so I could copy and paste it here and the person who shared it had removed it) ripped into Carmen Carrera. Told her to “get over it” and to “stop telling people she’s trans” if she doesn’t want to face the repercussions.

Call me crazy, but this sounds an awful lot like the “don’t go out dressed like that if you don’t want to get raped” mentality that we teach our girls and our women. That WE need to change, rather than teaching others to NOT rape, to NOT bully.

On the Subject of Partners and Isolation

It’s been about a week since my last post, and boy, has it been a rough week.

My partner has been going through a bipolar cycle, which essentially means everything comes to a grinding halt in our home, and all the attention, focus, etc turns to her. It means her work suffers. It means our home life suffers. It means she ignores everything in the home, from me to our pets to her kids and just spends days in bed. It means that for yet another few weeks she is essentially given a “pass” to be an inconsiderate ass. It means that, once again, the feelings of isolation rear their ugly heads and make me question everything.

Sex Drive in Park

Short post today, kids.

Here I am, three shots in, and my sex drive is essentially non-existent. What the hell. My partner told me today that kissing me was like kissing a mannequin. Great.

I would be the person that would have an opposite effect to the testosterone as everyone else. I expected to be going around humping office chairs by now. As it is, I have zero sex drive. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. It’s frustrating for me, and it’s starting to really get to my partner. I keep trying to tell her that it has nothing to do with her, that it’s not that I’m not attracted to her. I just have no mojo.

Ch-ch-ch-changes…

While discussing some of the changes I’ve been noticing since starting testosterone, my therapist asked me if I’d been having troubling emoting, verbalising thoughts, etc.

I hadn’t even thought about it, but yes, I have. And that would explain the trouble I’m having formulating posts recently. Four hundred different things in my head and I can barely make sense of one or two.

Anyone else notice things like this when they first started hormones?

This is My Dance Space…

I’m finding that I’m having issues with personal space. That is, I don’t want anyone in it. I’m not entirely sure why. One would think that with all the nifty little changes that are happening (and they ARE happening!) that I would be more excited about my body and having people (ie. my partner) near it. But the opposite is, in fact, true.

Erasing the Past, Creating Opportunities

Today I had my second T shot. I still don’t look like Captain America. Dammit. Oh well. Slow and steady wins the race, right?

I am excited when I see posts from trans guys who have been on testosterone for only about month and are already seeing changes. It gives me hope that maybe I’ll actually start seeing changes in myself soon.

I’ve been sick for pretty much the last week, so I can’t speak to things like more energy, heightened sex drive, etc. much to the disappointment of my partner. This flu has knocked me on my ass, so the only thing I have more of is snot and body aches. Go me!

Anyhoo, today I’d like to talk about erasing the past. Recently a friend of mine who is in the process of transitioning, in fact the same person who tried to rain on my parade, posted about going through their Facebook and erasing all evidence of their old female self. When we saw this, my partner said to me that she was glad I wasn’t planning on doing that, erasing who I was.

And I’m not.

You’ve Got Me Feeling Emotions…

Crazy emotional weekend. Praise jebus for my new prescription of Xanax. (A half of a .25mg pill wipes me out… yay for being sensitive to meds! Makes me a cheap date.)

On Friday my partner told me that it was getting harder for her not to say anything publicly about my transition. I said once I told my family, I didn’t care what she said or who she said it to. I just didn’t want my family to find out via a post on Facebook. So I sent a message to my cousins, my aunt and my uncle. And then had a panic attack.

After work, we had to go put an old cat of mine to sleep. That broke my heart. I’d had her since she was born, bottle fed her and her two siblings. She was the runt, always small and frail, but through some fluke managed to outlive both her much bigger and stronger siblings. I was an emotional wreck all day, knowing I had to go do this. Checking my facebook every 10 minutes to see if I had new messages wasn’t helping.

When I finally saw the little red notification that told me I had new messages, my heart did a belly flop into my stomach.

Honestly, I was worried needlessly. Granted, I haven’t told my father yet, but I’m really not too concerned about that right this second. I’d like to share some of the responses I got from my friends and family after I came out to them on Friday.