The Blues

 

I have not been ashamed over the years to document my struggles with depression, which was finally diagnosed as being Bi-Polar by a gender therapist I was going to years ago. Fortunately, the therapist was the first of several who did not try to connect the dots between my mental health issues and my depression. Saying one caused the other.

What was happening was, when I got the blues, I was down for days, not wanting to even get out of bed. Having said that, I was able to break the depression on occasion by cross dressing and going out into the world as a novice transgender woman. Breaking the hold of the blues was often very brief when I needed to return to the very mundane male world I was stuck in.

In addition, I was doing very little to help myself. I drank heavily, not considering how much of a depressant alcohol was and my favorite music to listen to was the blues. Regardless of my gender issues. As you can tell, outside of the Bi-Polar medications I was taking, I was doing very little to help myself. With or without the help I received, I managed to make it and eventually thrive rather than just survive. Regardless of my second wife calling me the “pretty, pretty princess”, I still took a lot of pride in my feminine presentation. The better I looked, the fewer blues I needed to conquer in my life because for once, I was doing something positive for myself.

When I needed the Veteran’s Administration’s health care in the worst way, they really came through for me. I was going through hard times when my restaurant closed financially and could not afford my medications when one of my employees suggested turning to the VA for help. It was about this time too when the VA approved gender affirming hormones for veterans so I could help myself on two fronts by making an appointment. It turned out that what I needed was an appointment with a therapist for both of my issues. My depression and my gender issues. By the pure luck of the draw, I was assigned to a therapist who had knowledge of my depression and my gender dysphoria. I was going into my first visit thinking I would have a difficult time explaining how my Bi-Polar depression had nothing to do with my gender outlook.

I never had to connect those imaginary dots with my new therapist. She had a good understanding of the needs of the LGBTQ community and what it meant to me. Once again, all the paranoia I had built up was wasted and my depression meds as well as my HRT meds were approved. It was the help I needed when I needed it at the lowest part of my life.

Regardless of all the good news I discovered, I still had to translate all of it into my real life which was changing dramatically. I was going out more and more testing out my interactions with the public. Building a new life was as difficult as I had imagined and the struggles I went through sent me back into the blues when I thought I would never make it as a transgender woman. To be completely feminized by no one else but me turned out to be a daunting task because I was starting from near to point zero. Very quickly, I quit being a victim and turned the tables on my male self who was fighting for survival, but not before I tried various self-destructive things such as trying to kill myself. The blues were literally trying to kill me.

In my limited understanding of both issues, I fought for my entire life, both depression and gender dysphoria could be caused by chemical imbalances in my brain. So, I had no real chance to battle them. I was born to a high-risk birth rate mother in the days when the medication DES was routinely prescribed. DES supposedly flooded the uterus with estrogen hormones which could have affected my future gender issues. Of course, now I will never know if my lifetime of struggle to fit in with males was doomed to begin with and now depression is widely believed to be caused by a chemical imbalance in my brain which I think I inherited it from my mom. One way or another, I feel fortunate to live in an era when medications are available to treat my depression.

In many ways too, the blues are an outlet I miss in my interactions with today’s world. As the mid term elections rapidly approach, I am preparing myself for the barrage of anti-transgender propaganda from the Republican party here in Ohio. Knowing what to expect won’t make it easier for me to survive. As always, I will just have to. With or without the blues because every little thing is going to be alright.

 

 

I Just Could not Do It

 

JJ Hart. Club Diversity, Columbus, Ohio.

Every once in a while, I see a guy, or a group of guys doing routine guy things and become rather envious of them.

I remember how hard I worked to arrive at a point of being a man to just fit in and think how easy it was for me to participate after I earned my white male privileges. Then, when my gender issues caught up to me, I needed to give all my male privilege up and make the sacrifice to lead a happy life as a transgender woman.

About that time, when I am observing the men, I talked about, I remember how miserable I was just playing the old repetitive male game I was stuck in, and I feel much better. Even to the point of feeling free. Perhaps, it is because I never should have forced myself to play the male games to start with. Being born into a male dominated family as the first son, locked me into serious expectations of who I was expected to be at all times and there could be hell to pay if I was not. Regardless of the pressure I put myself under, I did my best to succeed while all the time suspecting something was wrong with how I perceived my inner gender. 

I don't know what I thought about how I could live my life the way I was doing it, but somehow, I made it to the age of sixty before I could not take it anymore, and I transitioned into my version of transgender womanhood. I say my version, because I decided I did not need any serious gender realignment major surgeries to live life the way I wanted to. I basically took all the experience I had learned as a very serious cross dresser and decided I could live full time in a new and exciting world.

Before I paint myself out to be some sort of a courageous person, I wasn't. Destiny had led me through many bouts of self-destruction to be able to live to a point where I was healthy enough to begin gender affirming hormones and femininize my body. Inside and out, it all was quite the change. As excited as I was to experience all the changes, the fact was not lost on me that I was nearly old enough to retire early and start Social Security which took me away from any negative ideas about transitioning on a job. Old or new. 

All of a sudden, almost all of my major hurdles to transitioning were taken away, even to the point of the Veterans Administration approving HRT for its health care members. So, at the least, I would have to pay less for my femininizing meds. Even though, they were not free. 

One night, when I was again feeling sorry for myself because of my lifelong gender issues, I finally came to the conclusion I did not have to do it anymore. I was sure of the fact I did not want to live as a man any longer and had paid nearly all my dues not to do it anymore. 

Regardless of any remaining envy I felt as how easy it was for me to enjoy any male privileges I had gained over the years; it was not enough to keep going as a man. I just could not do it and survive. 

Complacency

 

Summer Image with padding.
JJ Hart

As I did my best to transition from male to female there were many times I experienced moments of complacency.

It happened slowly enough as I kept throwing lifelines to myself so I could survive a life burdened with gender dysphoria. To add insult to injury, I was not gifted with feminine external attributes to help me along as I initially tried to make it in the world as my authentic inner self. Disguising my testosterone poisoned body was a total learning experience. Angles needed to be changed into curves using everything from pads to balloons to foam. Anything it took to perfect my image and avoid complacency. 

The main problem I had was I could not avoid all the years I had lived as a man. The male trip was never easy for me to learn and even a more difficult time to forget. I had survived and even flourished and now I was trying to give it all up and for what. To live as a woman which became an all encompassing goal. I would practice the best I could walking and moving as a feminine person. Even to the point of being called "Ma'am" when I was at work as a man. I figured it was because I projecting a feminine "aura" to the world and resolved to add the idea to my accessories when I was out in the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. 

I started to project very strongly that I was a woman to any stranger I was interacting with. Along with looking them in the eye, I was able to be accepted for the first time as the person I wanted to be but I still had to guard in not letting up my guard and not slipping back into any of my old male ways. Just one time walking like a linebacker or not paying any attention to my new feminine communication skills could essentially ruin my whole day. It did not matter how much time, effort or money I put into my appearance, if I forgot who I was, nothing mattered. For years, my entire existence was still so fragile until I put in the years and work to tip my gender balance.

I can't say, even today I don't experience moments of complacency. It is easy when the cis-women my age and younger are for the most part very casual in their appearance. Ironically, when I see a woman in heels and hose in the grocery store dressed to the nines, my "trans-dar" goes up and I want to take a closer look. Perhaps the person could be part of the transgender or cross dresser sisterhood. 

Through it all, complacency or not I have never forgotten how the differences in female fashion is and was one of the fun parts of transitioning. No longer was I confined by the drab and boring male fashions. I had forever admired how the woman around me had the freedom to express themselves through fashion and now I could also.

On another topic, I attended two other LBGTQ support group virtual meetings recently. The groups moderator is a trans man and does a good job of keeping everyone involved. The group is very diverse and I was surprised to see a couple of the transgender participants seemingly have partially de-transitioned over the years. Plus I learned the Veterans Administration has finally approved electrologist visits under their care and my mammogram was approved after four tries. The main problem was the hospital I wanted it done at still had an old chart on me with my dead name so getting a new one was the problem. The VA needed to approve the process and did so my dead name information has been changed on yet another document. Progress is progress I guess.

At least I was not being complacent and stayed the course until I saw results.