It’s been a few days again. I didn’t feel like writing because I’ve been depressed, which is why I should have been writing. It’s okay; after years of being depressed, I know how to remember it vividly. It starts at the beginning of the day.
In the time between sleep and consciousness, it hits pretty hard. The first emotion I feel is something like regret. Not that I am a t-woman, but that I told everyone so soon. Why do I feel like this? My feelings since the revelation haven’t changed one bit. In fact, they are getting stronger. I am more at peace with who I am than I have ever been. But I told everyone. I even told my boss; I told him my last day would be July 29th and that I would be moving back to Indianapolis to start transitioning. He even thought it would be a good idea not to do it here. Pierre is too small and too narrow-minded. He gets it. There was no problem.
But I told everyone. The excitement has died down on Facebook, and I am grateful. I can’t imagine that anyone really wants to keep talking about this ad nauseam. I don’t. I still have a lot of processing to do. I still have a lot of therapy to do. But my friends are there for me if I need them. I am happy to say that I do, and I will.
What else? Oh…nights.
Nights are hard. I spend every evening researching trans-issues, watching transition videos (haven’t seen one yet that isn’t beautiful), and panicking that I am going to look terrible. Or that I will be turned down for hormones. What would I do then? What would I do if someone told me that I had to be unhappy for the rest of my life and there was nothing I could do about it?
It’s probably an unreasonable fear. And it doesn’t change who I am. Looks aren’t everything. I expect to be laughed at, harassed, mocked, whatever. I suspect that there will be times that I fear for my life. I am 6’2″ and 300, but I am losing weight. The hormones will decrease muscle mass, and I will be weaker.
I don’t know what the answers are. Who does, really?