Fan, You're About to Get Hit

    As I look around my world,  I feel that

"How did I get here? 

I'm not actually here, am I" 

kind of feel. Life keeps going and days rmble on like a boulder rolling down a small unimpressive hill; the ironic thing is every day seems to drag on forever but at the end of it, it feels like seconds ago I was just waking up and then in a heartbeat, it's four days later. I often see time as a haze of interesting things and boring empty days of the week and terrible vengefully bad days...and a few solid good times too, said I reluctantly. 

     This is as poetic as I will get, I promise. The cold hard thruth is I often just want the day to end and it never seems to make anything better when it does. Ya know that thought, "Tomorrow is a new day. Just as long as THIS day is over." well that thought is my refuge from my black cloud of a life but it doesn't restart anything. The same bad stuff, negative thoughts, unending bad luck and awkward attempts at being less than bitter/sad happen; I do have good times and I do have some good luck but the ratio kills me. 

 The example of my luck I think of regularly is:

     Living the life I do, getting a great deal on a tractor trailer 

would be really great...but will do nothing for me at all. 

So while it could be a blessing, it's not to me. At all.

     I don't try to ignore blessings and good things, I really dont. Every time  something good comes along that isn't helpful, I try very very hard to take the menaing behind it or extract the heart it came from or even just accept it graciously. And I know this is going to sound very bad to people who believe in God's love but everyday I believe less and less that he loves me...likes me...cares at all...isn't making fun of me or putting me in situations where I will lose. 

     I understand the principle of recieving things, being gracious with small things could lead to getting greater things. But here's how it feels to me:

God: Hey there...you.

Me: Umm, Hi. I need some help.

God: Oh? oh, yeah. I know that...everyone needs help. What do you need?

Me: Well, I need some love and a lot of money. Well a lot to me, enough to cover rent and eat and buy the things I need. And I need a way to make my head better, I'm kinda messed up from birth and it doesn't get better when stress only gets stronger every single day, I could use some kind of break from that, maybe something to restart my battery. 

God: Ah. Yeah...yeah, I see what you mean. SO you need money to live andsomeone to love you and accept you and you need things? That's not too much for ME. 

*God reaches down*

Me: Well thank you...umm, I don't want to sound disrespectful...but this is a nickel. I appreciate it...but I need $500.00 a month just for rent and I make enough to cover that...but I need to eat and, like, do things all the time.

God: Be thankful for what you have.

Me: My bike just broke, a nickel won't pay for that.

God: So you aren't gracious?

Me: Umm...I am gracious but the gift isn't enough. and while I was just thinking about that, my pants ripped, I lost my hat and gloves, I got sick and the otehr day I nearly killed myself because it's just too overwhelming for me...ca I get some more help? Please?

*God reaches down again*

Me: Is this a pen? It's...it's a nice pen but this solves literally nothing. In fact now I have to take care of this expensive looking pen. AND while I was sitting here, I got evicted from where I was living and I accidentally insulted someone I didn't even intend to speak to and now my job is on thin ice. That adds a ton of more stress that I couldn't handle before...how does this help?

*God reches down, this time with a little annoyance*

Me: Well thank you. Thank you for the one free meal. I really appreciate that.

Me: But what about my bike? Or my living situation? And I know I've been denying this for, well, all my life but I need to be honest with everyone about my gender issues.

God: I've taken care of all that.

Me: Really??

God: No, but I did make you think I did for a little bit. Are you stress free now? For a few minutes, you didn't have those life affecting, heavy, potentially dark things to think about. You're welcome.

Me: WHAT ON EARTH!!! BUT NOTHING CHANGED AND I STILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH ALL OF THAT DARK STUFF! SO WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME IN A REAL WAY??

God: I lifted all those problems to let you recharge your battery.

Me: But you didn't actually change anything. I still need all those things AND NOW I've been accused of stealing money that I didn't steal at work so thats's EVEN MORE STRESS!

God: You are ungreatful, I'm going to punish you by taking your favorite sport away from you and pushing your friends away from you for a time. Oh and your still you so...punishment.

Me: And I can't end myself?

God: Nope, that would be wrong.

Me: So can I get some kind of REAL reward for NOT ending myself?

God: You're alive, that's reward enough.

Me: Umm...screw you!

God: . . .

Me: And my ONE family member that means anything to me just moved away...that's just great...can you replace that void in my life?

God: . . .

Me: And NOW I might have a heart condition. Great, thanks...I really needed that in my life. Oh and as much as I want to be angry anout everything, I gotta say thank you for the bike you found a way to get me.

God: . . .

Me: So...today I saw someone else do something really good. It helped a very little. Thanks. Umm...but I still have no friends around or a place to call my own...or enough money to eat food that's god for me...and I am still in need of serious mental help...and I may have a bad heart...and that bike just broke too. Sooo...little help? I was thankful, so that's something...right?

God: . . .

Me: Umm...God? It's me...the transgendered, hurting, empty, lonely, poor, suicidal individual that needs a lot of help.

God: . . .

Me: Welp...I'll be here slowly drowning in my own filth of a life if you need me...I'll accept pretty much anything at this point...You know I was ignored all through highschool and it makes me hateful to be constantly ignored, like I can't even help that. ou would know, you put me in that awful school with tose awful people and gave me no support through family or friends or any hope that anything would get any better...just saying...as I drown slowly...

God: You're ungreatful. PUNISHMENT!

Me: At THIS point...whatever. Punish me. Whther I try to do good or bad, I get the floor taken from me the exact second I feel comfortable. Every.Damn. Time.

God: . . .

Me: Great...ignored...again...Good thing nothing has gotten better, cause if not this might be bad psychologically.

Me: Ok...things got worse.

Me: Not even kidding...things are like scary bad right now. I'm not asking for like a lot, just SOMETHING.

Me: Fuck me.

God: You don't believe I love you. Punishment, this is gonna hurt me a lot more than it hurts you.

Me: Are you kidding me?! So I have to be flawless to get any help? By the way...tonight I nearly died. It's only because I didn't want to hurt my friends that I didn't.

     Okay, I could go on a lot more but I think this thoroughly serves the purpose of expressing how I feel. I want to believe things are not this way and I want to have hope that things will get better, I really do. I know I've gotten through some crazy times and made it out but the tank is near empty and I am running out of ways to beg strangers and friends for help; they're getting a little tired of it too. To the credit and amazing care of my friends, I cannot thank each and every one of them enough. To the friends who have spent time talking to me or letting me rant to the friends who have sent me things to the many many rides and rooms they've offered to the friends who have spent their energy on me...I thank you from the bottom of my slwoly draining heart. You're the only reason I'm still here right now to type this very diary entry.

November 16 2017 Update

     Today, November 16th 2017, marks 9 days on estradiol. And while I'd love to say that things have been great and easy, outside situations have made the last 2 weeks an absolutely nioghtmare so I've kinda been so side tracked that I haven't really paid much attention to what small changes have been happening or how I've felt.

Moving:
     So just under 2 weeks ago I moved from the place I was dwelling in and that was rough. I'm not going to go too much into the 'why' but it was not cool and I was faced with having to move asap. So I really tried to focus on ignoring my emotions and working on finding a new place instead of freaking out about how that task has not been easy for me over the last 1 and a half years. (I've moved about every 6 months since May of 2016)

So I LUCKILY found a place and met with a woman who had a room to rent. I moved in and two days later, I was told it wasn't working out and I had to move out...again. For those of you keeping score, that's

Moving: 3

Me: 0

in one week's time, since I had to be out of there. Not my favorite thing to do and so I found ANOTHER place to live, thanks to the prayers of friends. That's one of the biggest things really weighing on me over the last few weeks.

Depression:

     With that going on and affecting my every waking moment, I have been fighting depression very very hard, the thought of giving up was right in my face and I even tried to give up a few times.

Now, I'm going to share something I'm not proud of and I am glad it didn't turn out the way it could have but it's the harsh truth and it's what happens when depression takes over. There was a day when I first found out I had to move and I was emailing many places about renting a room and not getting any responses. The woman I was staying with was putting pressure on me to move out and that was making me just feel so much worse.

     The last straw that night was the fact that I thought I had a place. It was a great price and in my area, the guy said I could move in on a Sunday, he just had to clear up like one or two things before I moved in...but... there's always a but...I called him that Sunday and he made some excuse why I couldn';t move in and he rejected me. I was so angry and so desperately sad and so hopeless that I took a walk and yelled at life or God or whatever.

I got to a parking lot that was dark and got on my knees very much in a dangerous spot; I knelt there and cried and waited and was giving up. I looked up at the sky and yelled that I wanted it all to just be over already. Just thern I saw a truck roaring toward me. It had to turn around to be driving at me and did, I watche dit come fast and the headlights covered me in light as it got close. I felt my knee jolt but as I was about to move out of danger, I stopped myself and just sat there. With tears making my face freeze, I waited and hoped the truck wouldn't stop. It didn't even come within 20 feet of me but it felt like it was inches from my body and I was heart broken that the truck turned and lef tthe parking lot. I was so so empty that night, so unable to even know what to do...

I'm not happy about any of that but I also need this to be a completely honest account of everything and that was exactly how things went down. I wanted to stop having to fight through every single thing that I could possibly have to fight through.

     Enough of the negative though, here are the few positive things that have been existant:

1. I have been taking estradiol for 9 days. I found out I have very very low testosterone levels, well below normal males, so I wasn't prescribed any kind of blocker. I thought that was kinda weird because without getting specific, everythig works very well for me so even my Dr was surprised about that. I don't know what the numbers represent exactly but to give you an idea:

Normal male testosterone levels are between 215-270 and I came in at 168.




     Anyway, after 9 days, I am starting to experience slight breast growth and different sensations. I was told my emotions would go crazy and I'd possibly be moody or overemotional but so far the meds have kinda calmed me down in a way, although I've been dealing with the height of fear and stress with the potential homelessness and being constantly facing the worst of seemingly everything I did and everyone I talked to. That's not even including the customers at work, which were just beyond rude and mean lately. So that's a...not bad thing, I suppose.

I've been telling more and more friends and have been accepted for the real me, I have been absolutely blown away by friends who I thought would not even care enough to respond or anything who not only accepted me as a friend but have been keeping up with me and offered suport and love.
To thos eof you who are a part of that, you know who you are, I want you to know something specific:

   You would never have been the reason if I had taken my life at 

any point but you are definitaly the reason my life feels worth 

something now. I can't thank you enough for what you have 

given me in your friendship and support, whether you agree or not.

     And I did figure out my living situation, after staring into the face of hopelessness I found an old friend/landlord who helped out with a plan and a place to live near my friends and my church.



...normally I'd end it there but there are two ironies and a sad thing about today.

     Irony #1: So I figured out my living situation, it turns out I'm going to be moving two houses away from a perosn who used to be a very good friend. Someone who screwed me over and created lies about me and tried to spread them to some friends. This person is not worth naming but I'm not sure if I'm annoyed that I'm going to see said person at some point or if it's funny that this person is going to have to see me possibly regularly. And I plan on staying there for some time so
     Irony #2: The guy who used to be my landlord and who is again reminds me of my Uncle. Like, in every single way. He acts like Uncle Mike, talks like him, he's nice and helpful and thoughtful the way Uncle Mike was, his mannerisms are so similar that I talk to him and it's like Uncle Mike is with me in a way.

And today, November 16th marks 5 years since I got a call from my Aunt, a call that changed my life and left me a hole that would and will bnever be filled again. 5 years ago, I found out my Uncle Mike took his life and that I'd never hear his voice in person again or get a call from him or ge tto tell him things that happen in my life ever again. I have not gone one minute without feeling the effects of his suicide and I never will as long as I live. I still love my Uncle as much as anyone can love a fmaily member and it's always going to be harder here without him. He was an asset to this world (even though he wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination) and he is sorely missed.

RIP Michael Patrick Bossler1966-2012

Relax? What's that?

     So you asked me about relaxation? Since you insist, I'll tell you what I do to relax. Actually I'll take a picture of my list of ways I relax.

Sounds about right Yeah, being refreshed or relaxing doesn't exist to me really. When I was a kid, I used to escape into hockey to get away from my immediate abusive and scary life. Hockey, while intense and mostly non relaxing, was a ton better than watching your family slowly kill themselves and realizing that your life is awful in just about every way. So for years, watching the Flyers, Avalanche, Ducks or any other team that wasn't Pittsburgh was my main source of relaxing.

     The only problem is...as I'm sure you said to yourself...that is NOT a form of relaxation. 

An escape? Yeah, definitely. 

A form of letting out rage or frustration? Of course. Who doesn't feel better after hitting a ball or puck as hard as they can for a few hours and beating up on anyone opposing you? Right, no one.

BUT...every aspect of my life outside of that was stressful to the highest degree and I had absolutely no way of ever feeling that refreshed life feeling. And not only did I have no 'relax' in my life but I was lying to myself about it. I convinced myself that I was okay for a long time and that stress wasn't too much for me. That was one of many lies I told myself as a kid that were slowly hurting me from the inside out. 

     So looking now at my life and I still have no way to relax, no way to calm down. Once in a while I look on eBay for some pill that fills all my relaxation needs or some DIY mixture of relaxation

1 cup Honey

1 1/4 cup vinegar

1/2 cup stress free gluten free peanut butter

2 cups water

Mix till stress dissolves and rub on eyeballs twice a day for 14 days.

I'm sure anyone reading this is shocked to find out two things: 1. that the mix I just posted is NOT good for the eyeballs and 2. nothing on eBay or any DIY site remedies stress, at least not the way I'm trying to look for. 

     I'd love to finish this with some way I've found to make things better but that's where it ends currently. I take days when I have no obligations and do absolutely nothing or very very little but that only pauses my stress levels, doesn't actually relieve any of it. 

To be continued... 

I have absolutely no idea what to do

.    So my life right now is a mess: I have so much anxiety issues that seem to be adding more and more problems each day, I don't work enough to sustain a human life, my stress level is way too high even before much happens and I quickly get to a point where I'm not able to handle even normal things, I have gender dysphoria, every day my confidence goes down and the little failures hurt more and more, I'm growing bitter in ways in can't seem to stop, I have literally the worst luck with anything that involves luck of any kind, bad things just happen to follow me around no matter what I do, I'm loved by friends and very cared about but I often feel I have no one in my corner in the way that most people in my life don't even know what it's like to not have and I think about death and suicide much more than I ever should.


     Anxiety and stress.

So I wake in the morning and if there is absolutely nothing going on and I have nothing to worry about, I'm fine and there's no stress. The problem is I don't recall ever having a day like that, ever. Going to work is stressful in itself and even on a really slow day, my stress levels are at a breaking point. Then a second day in a row multiplies that plus whatever things that don't work out our get stressful that day and buy the end I feel like I barely make it. Then a third day in a row of working or doing anything stressful literally leaves me shaking and unable to think straight enough to make normal decisions or follow through with everyday functionary actions. I sometimes feel like crying over things like having long lines as a cashier or dropping things 3 or 4 times in a row. And that's when I start just messing up everything I touch, as if I turn into a giant clutz.


     Luck of the draw.
If it can go wrong, it will and not only does it go wrong but it will humiliate me in the worst way possible. And it's not just a thing here or there, any time I do anything that involves luck in any way I have to prepare to either get ahead of it or expect to get whatever I want to not get. Like if I only work one day in a week, but I need it to not be a Wednesday can you guess which day I'll be scheduled? Some things I can get ahead of like that, I can request off that day. But if I leave it up to chance, 10 out of 10 times it will be whatever I don't want it to be. And then there's things like card games... If I'm playing settlers if caftan, I can count on having absolutely none of the one item I need at the end of the game. I usually start strong and just hit an embarrassing block that I can never get past. These are just a few examples, another would be getting my state ID. I went 6 times before I was able to get it. 6 times. It was insane, they found rains why things I Christy didn't fit the requirements even though I brought exactly what they told me to bring. It gets maddening when everything and anything gets stopped all the time.


     Then... The worst part of me, the thing that embarrassed me and hurts all the time. Love.

I was born into a "family" of strangers, people all thrown together who regularly found themselves at each other's throats or leaving someone high and dry without care for anyone but themselves. I do not mean all of my "family" out in fact most of them when they're sober, the fact if the matter is that most of the people related to me are drunks or drug addicts or have been at one time.

The influence is strong with those ones. My biological father (who I hope reads this some day and realized just how terrible a person he is and how much he hurt at least me) was at absolute best a scumbag from the darkest depths is selfish garbage. That is me being way being nice, I try not to curse as a regular form of expression and that human doesn't deserve me breaking that personal rule.

As for my mom and her side, I've always had a huge intangible space between me and almost all of them, I don't blame most of them for things not done perfectly or even done wrong. I honestly believe my mom and her brothers and parents never or rarely did things out of hate. They weren't saints but deep down they cared about each other for the most part.

With the good stuff said, I felt very separate from everyone related by blood to me (with the exception of my Uncle Ron, Uncle George, Uncle Mike and my cousin Ryan) and I don't recall a time where I felt like we loved each other, which left me starved for love and affection.

     And with the most subtle of transitions to another post if this topic, that brings me to romance. Ah the language of love, eh?

I've had some awesome moments, like when I took a girl's hand and we danced outside a fancy restaurant while people were talking about how sweet we looked. Sounds amazing... And it was a great moment, well it would have been better with someone who deserved it. I say this not as a bitter ex or in a malicious way, but as someone who can recognize the truth about someone that I used to have tinted glasses toward...she was an idiot. There have been a few other notable moments with other not worth mentioning idiots, cheaters and psycho, but very few girls that were genuinely with any attention.

Overall I've been very sad about the lack of returned affection in that area with one caveat, I have come out transgender within the last 2 years and that could be why nothing has ever worked out. I wasn't meant to be with any of the girls I dated because my destiny could be to become a woman who can do a little too help others in the same situation. (I completely understand that I can't become a true female, so you can hold any comments about that. I get it and don't have delusional thoughts that I can. It's just easier to say it than to constantly say 'i can become the closest facsimile to that of what I see myself as in my broken mind).

If that were to work out like I hope it does, I can in the future be accepted as Layla and live my life encouraging the people around me without feeling like I'm faking or lying about who I am at all times. I honestly believe that after going through transitioning and accepting that life and leaving romance behind, I can accept that the love that I'll receive is the love from friends and will only be platonic. I actually realized while typing this why transitioning is so important to me: I hate who I am and I hate that I'm not loved romantically but I am loved very deeply by friends. If I could find a way to love myself then u can accept that love of friends for what it is as opposed to now where I feel like it's a weak consolation prize. No offense to any of those friends, I love them all back very very much. (If you're in this group, I'm pretty sure you know)

     So here I am...A mess, trying to fix as much as I can while I feel like I'm on a  quickly sinking ship. I'm afraid of failing, I'm afraid of succeeding and I'm afraid to be in the middle of those options.  So pray for me if you pay, send happy thoughts if that's what you do, donate time money or luck if you have any to spare and inspire others in my honor if you can.

Thanks for reading.

The Good and The Not So Good

     How's your day, you ask? How's life, you question? What's going on, you...inquisite? I know that's not a word but you asked, you shouldn't make up words.

     Ok so I will answer your questions. So here it goes: Good, good.
Well that's what I say when I don't want to say that things aren't great or tell someone my actual goings on. The truth is things are tough. I've been dealing with a lot and most of them are things that aren't going away or things that can't be wished away by saying, "I'm here for you. You got this." In fact, most of the things I'm going through, I need either a massive amount of money or people to be actually around for semi long times.

     I'm not saying that encouraging statements are wrong or that I don't appreciate them when people who can't do more or don't know what to do say them. Please don't take that for me saying I don't appreciate the thought. But the honest truth is that I'm struggling. Usually I'm struggling with internal stuff like figuring out my gender identity issues or dealing with the fact that I have such bad luck that EVERYTHING that could go the opposite of my way does. Ev. Ry. Time.

     These are usually what I am thinking about or dealing with when you ask me what's up so you now know when I say I'm good that really, I'm not exactly good. BUT...

     But there is another side, a side that I sometimes don't acknowledge because my identity gets lost in misery sometimes. I look at myself as the sad or unfortunate one, kinda lie the Toby Flenderson version of Neo. (I know you like my photoshop skillz)

   Hahaha, anyway back to my point: I do have some good things that I think about and that I have in my life:

First thing that I cannot express how great it is would be my friends. My friends are my family, I'm not going to name everyone because I would leave people out by accident but you know who you are. I have lots of people who mean lots to me, these are people who have saved my life and continue to be a support system when I need it. They also on occasion use my services whether it's babysitting or helping out in some other way, they help me feel needed even in little ways.

     And there's another thing that makes me crazy happy that is a part of who I am. It's big and cold and has blue and red lines and it contains some of the coolest people and...it has...rubber...on it... Ok, I'm out, it's an ice rink. It's also hockey. I love it so much, I think I was born with skates, the Dr just hid them when I skated out...hmm...maybe I should curb my imagination. Nah, deal with it.
   
     Hockey has been my saving grace from summer every year since I became a fan, anyone on my FB knows of my countdowns from the first day of summer till the first preseason nhl game of the season...that's right. I can't even wait till just regular season, I go crazy for the first preseason. And as a Flyers fan, that usually means a game I can't go to but still keep up with the score as if it's a pivitol playoff game. Hockey was the thing God used to bring me into church in a way and it has been one of the biggest uses for me to socialize with society. One of my favorite memories was when the Flyers won game 7 vs Boston in 2010: we went to the Wells Fargo Center to watch the game being played in Boston. There were 20,000 fans there and we all enjoyed the win. Afterwards, as we exited the parking lot (which took us over an hour to just get out of the not that big parking lot) fans were high fiving each other, going around to random cars and talking about the game and sharing drinks and stories. The comradery of the sport is much fun.

     And art. Oh art, you make me swoon. Photography, drawing, painting, music, creating videos and short films...there's so much to talk about in this...this writing. This is another one of the best "goods" that keeps me sane and helps me on a regular basis. I don't acknowledge it because that's vain or something but I love knowing that I'm good at something and for it to be photography or drawing, that means a lot to me. It's so therapeutic to put what's in my head on paper or into a YouTube video is immeasurable.

     So although I, at times, don't see it I have some awesome 'good' and some terrible 'not so good' that is always on my mind. Sometimes I need to remind my face about the good stuff. That's kinda hat this letter to myself is all about.

Have a wonderful day

Opening Up: The Deepest, Darkest Secret I've ever had.

     I've got a story for anyone reading this that might surprise you or scare you or disgust you...or maybe intrigue or bore you. I have no idea how you're going to take this but it's the realest form of me that there is and I'm going to share it. If you decide not to be my friend after reading this or you decide you can't handle this issue, I understand. I just ask that you be respectful in doing anything you choose to do.

     First let me say: I have not been honest with pretty much anyone on the unfiltered true version of me. I promise there was no intent to lie, even though honestly I lied to myself for a long time and even when I realized the truth about myself I still denied it and tried to fool myself by burying it deep down and ignoring it. It'll make more sense as this goes on, trust me.

     Let's start at the beginning: When I was very little, around 2 or 3 years old, I had a moment that I still remember to this day. It's actually my second oldest memory that I have. I remember being in my mom's room and finding a pair of her boots, they were fuzzy on the inside and were brown. I picked them up, knowing very very well that boys don't wear those kinds of things.

   But I also remember thinking about how I really wanted to wear them and feel like...well, not what I was. I remember knowing that I wasn't supposed to feel that way and think that way but I did. At 2 or 3 years old I was too afraid to tell anyone because I knew boys wear boy things and girls wear girl things. I was scared and pushed that thought down and didn't do anything about it.

     Over the next few years, I had many random moments when I saw girls doing things that I remember clearly wishing I could take part in but I had to play with toys that I was supposed to play with. For the record, I always hated GI Joe, transformers and tools. Yet I said nothing and got toys like that. There were toys I did play with and have fun, it wasn't like torture all the time. I played with Thundercats and He-man toys, which were both my favorites for a while, but for the most part I wanted to play with...other things.

     So for my younger years (between about ages 6 - 12) I tried constantly to have fun with things like GI Joe toys and cartoons. The whole time I was so embarrassed to be honest with parents or friends because I knew it was a shameful thing to want to play with dolls and fashion and the things that girls played with. Makeup was a huge fascination for me, second to things that accentuated feminine features.

   This brings me to 13 years old, and to be as delicate as I can about this stage as I can, I started to understand the physical side of life. My imagination has always been very vivid and I'm sure you can guess what any 13 year old boy has n his mind at 13 so...fantasies were rampant with me.

   My earliest fantasies were very specific and they centered around a beautiful woman forcing me to ac as a girl. I actually saw a board game cover once with a rich looking woman on it and for so long she was the center of my fantasies, she'd kidnap me and force me to wear makeup and big frilly dresses and drug me so I wouldn't do anything or try to get away. In this fantasy, over time I would have to accept my new life and would eventually forget that I wasn't that rich woman's daughter or whatever. Dirty, right? There was actually a time when my mind was innocent and pure.

   I only tell that because I want to describe how my mind took in everything. At first I just hated playing with toys I didn't truly want, then my imagination created a force scenario so I could justify changing genders without me having to actually do it myself. My fantasies did turn more adult in the next few years but there's no need to get into that here, the only part that needs to be added here is the progression: my fantasies turned sexual but always revolved around me being forced or seduced into being feminized. And the more I buried the truth of wanting to be female, the more it became depraved and dark.

   Around my 19th year, I got into church. And things seemed to be getting better...for a while. I met good men who were good fathers and I started to see what good families look like, I even snuck into a house surrounded by a great family. But...there's always a but, there was still this other side of me that I was burying deep.

   Depression sprinkled itself throughout my whole life, I remember being about 7 or 8 and trying to climb out a window to jump while my biological parents fought downstairs and I remember when I was living at someone's house and considering taking a bunch of pills just to stop the hurt. Obviously I did not go through with either but those kinds of feelings took over at times and depression was and is always with me.

   Alright so I ended up going to a bible college, suppressing this part of me the whole time. After that I bounced around a lot and couldn't even think about anything, let alone think about what I am or feel like I am. It was't for another 12 years before I even thought about my gender and what's going on in my head. All I knew was I distanced myself from everyone and I was less and less okay with anything.

   A few years ago, I started asking questions but ONLY asking anonymous people. I went on websites where my identity could not possibly be traced and asked people who transitioned what they went through, most of them only gave half decent advice that I still see as immature. Their advice usually consisted of: be you and do whatever you want and if anyone disagrees with you or doesn't want you to do absolutely anything you want then f**k 'em. And in my opinion, only immature people ignore everyone in their lives just to do what they want. Everything I do affects the people closest to me and treating those people with such disrespect is taking their entire friendship for granted, like they owe me something. Not cool.

   Even though the majority said basically the same thing, I did glean a few bits of understanding from all of that and began to know a little more about myself. I even found a transgender youtuber that I was/am a big fan of who is political, smart and understands that she is biologically a male and always will be but she does her best to feel comfortable with that knowledge. 

   I started telling my close friends about me and since then I've been exploring every avenue of transgendered people. Watching documentaries, reading journals from doctors and psychologists and Christians and atheists and as many medical reports and articles as I could find. And after all that, I learned about a place near me that deals with Trans people and I made an appointment there. It took me months to even get that and it's not for a few months from the moment I'm writing this right now (Monday July 24th 2017) so I'm waiting to go and start my transition.

   So this is the real me: Layla Lee Gilmore.