Thanksgiving part 1: Before

     So...here we are...it's 2017, almost the end of another year. And maybe it's because I just finished netflix watching a tv show that kinda has always been ther efor me or amybe it's because things are changing or maybe it's just the most painful time of year for me...

     ...but either way, I'm sad.

I'm sad because of all of that, the anniversary of losing my uncle just passed, which is weird because it hits me every day so I thought it shouldn't hit me harder on a certain time.

     Anyway, I have been running on fumes for a while now and a day turns into a week and a week turns into 5 weeks and 2 months turn into a year and so on and so on till you realize you're 35 and not happy... and haven't been for a long time.

But each morning, I can't just not wake up or get up or go to work. I can't just sit in a corner till the house is torn down and be the ghost I feel like I am. So instead I put on a face, I smile and tell people they're better than whatever they are facing and I try to make this world a better place. I try to strike while the iron's hot even when the iron is in the back of the closet, the wire is old and unusable and the ironing board was sold years ago from under the iron's nose...so to speak.

But I try. Ohmygosh, do I try. I don't cry throughout entire days, I try to laugh through a lot of my pain. It worked when I went to funerals for my uncles so it's gotta work for when customers forget theyre talking to a human and treat me like garbage because I don't know the difference between their brand of cigarette and another that's so similar I can't tell the difference even after hearing the explanation...right?

Laughing and joking has to work when I wake up to remember that I've never ever felt anything but hatred that I was born the sex that I am and the wear and tear of pretending to be a typical male for so long has me considering anything to get out of doing that ever again even for a second.

And SURELY laughing has to work when you are invited to a holiday gathering by the greatest friends I could possibly ask for but all I want to do is forget that it's a holiday or that families exist,
I just want to escape into tv shows about ficticious cities in Conneticut or fictional bars in Boston or New York City. It's easier to take my empty life and the pain when I'm watching the worst psychiatrist ever listening to people or watching a doctor say things to patients that I'd LOVE to say to customers at my own job.

     ...so here I am...in 2017, almost 2018...



I am trying my hardest to acknowledge the good in my life wevcen though I'm not very good at it. This is the part where I thank God for the things He's given me.

     I want to thank God for my friends, without whom I would not be where I am. I truly do thank God as much as I can for the people He put in my path. I also am very very thankful for my cousin who is a serious light in my sometimes darkness filled life.

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

It's Getting Too Real

     I'm going to warn you here, there aren't any witty jokes or positivity or anypictures to brighten the mood and there is strong language present. Read at your own risk.

     I'm so beyond fucked. And so far everything I do turns to shit. Whether I pray and ask God for help or try to cheat and steal my way to being okay, nothing is ever different. I lose and I get humiliated and I end up on the sad or angry or empty end of things.

My friends have always been great but that's it...I lost the ability to love or feel love or understand it, I have no "wins", no little battle victories, nothing to look at and say "I just have to____ and then it'll work out."

The ONE thing I've been looking for was transitioning and I am watching that quickly fade away from me over the stupidest fucking thing: Money. I need a cardiologist but no one will see me without paying and all my money is going to rent. And since I can't get food stamps, I'm fucked with that so I have to pay for food and that leaves me with nothing. And as of tonight, I won't even have internet at least for a little while.

Anyone tha tknows me knows this will isolate me in a way I don't know if I can handle. I use dto say I don't know what to do. I used to hope that there was some supernatural entity that comes and saves the day but tas each day/minute/second goers by I feel like even if that happens, I don't want their help anymore. Like I'm so angry and hurt and destroyed that even if somehting does work out, I won't even enjoy it. Like who the hell cares if I get the body I want if I'm so bitter and so empty that I hate everything!?

What am I? WHAT THE FUCK AM I?! I don't even feel human anymore, I feel like so much less than human after being shown that even scumbags who rape or steal can get help from the gov't but I, a noon jailed non married non drug using visually male, deserve to starve and rot. According to the governmental assistance, that's al that matters. I didn't do drugs or have kids with random women and I didn't go to jail for stealing so I'm fine.

Basically they're saying that I don't deserve any help because I didn't choose to destroy my life but by saying that, they're destroying my life.

My anxiety grows by the minute and makes it hard to work, fight or even stay alive but I need to work, fight and stay alive because...I'm supposed to? I don't even know why anymore.

I'm out of answers...hell, I don't even know what questions I'm supposed to ask or who I'm supposed to talk to. I'm blinded by the negativity that just engulfs everything.

And I'm suposed to believe that God is taking care of me, that God is in control and all I have to do is pray and read and the anxiety will suddenly clear up and le tme do normal things, I'll find a hidden ad for a great apartment and I won't want to fucking kill myself because everything will stop sucking so much that there's nothing but bitterness and empty hollow loveless speech??

Is that what's supposed to happen? Is that it? Did I just sin one too many times? Did I constantly choose a pencil instead of a pen and God gave up on me?? Cause that's how I feel right now, I feel like I made the wrong decsions as a little kid and God just made the consequences worse and worse and by the time I was old enough to make serious decisions, even the right ones have bitter painful consequences that make my life worse and worse.

Three years ago, I had 3,000 dollars in my account and was planning a trip across the globe and right now...just three years later, I'm barely hanging on to a worthless hollow life that seems to hate me. I've been trying to pray and read and talk to God and ask toerhs to pray for me but the more I try or the more I have ANY hope that things will not be the worst, the worse things get.

Every single fucking time I start even the tiniest bit to have any hope, something destroys it. Every single time. And it's always in such a giant way that I can't do anything about it but get swept away in all of it. It's like when you read about or watch documentaries about serial killers; you see the victims trying so hard to get away and you think 'they deserve to break free and live' and they sometimes even have a great chance but in the end they die...no happy endings, no freedom, no deserved life.

And this is not a drunken or drug induced post, I'm not writing this unde rany influence, I've never done a drug in my life...this is my life. This is what every choice and every action has led to. I'm moving again. I just had to tell the gov't worker to cancel any food stamps because I'm gonna screw anyone who's address I use, I don't have it in me to "be a  man" (in every sense of the phrase), I can't see a cardiologist because they just want money that I don't have, I can't transition because of the cardiologist that doesn't exist, I'm about to have about 40 dollars for two wekes that has to feed me clothe me and cobver any extra expense, I officially can't do anything fun or anything to relieve any stress or anything that doesn't add more fucking stress to my already stress riddled stupid worthless life...

    I've been saying for so long that there's always another option, there's always something else you can do but this point makes me feel like a liar. No matter what I do, it's the wrong thing and it make smy life harder and less worth finishing. I am not strong enough to keep up the intensity for much longer and I fucking hate more and more and care less and less on the regular.

I. Am. Fucked.