Fun and Games?

 

Image from Itai Aarons 
on UnSplash

Far too many instances these days I read about someone saying being transgender or having gender dysphoria is a choice.

For those of us who have (or continue to) suffer through our own gender issues, we have never had a choice. The problems with our gender meshing with our authentic selves is much more than just thinking we could put a dress on us and the world would be so much better. If only it could be so easy. Quite early in life I learned just looking myself in the mirror as a girl was a fleeting idea. Not only did I want to look like one of the girls I envied so much, I wanted to actually be one of them. Such a radical idea was to lead me into a lifetime quest to live as a transgender woman. A term which still would be years away from being invented as I looked into the mirror. 

When I look back at the whole process, it was never fun and games because the pressure was on to conceal my cross dressing from my parents and only brother who was a couple years younger than I and very curious. Very few times I remember being able to actually relax and enjoy what I was trying to accomplish. Which brings up the question, why do it? The answer is simple, because I had no choice. Deep down, something kept me driving towards being feminine, at least in appearance, It would take me years longer to learn the finer points of moving around and succeeding in the world as a transgender woman. Most of the time, the process was very painful and very few times exhilarating. I was at once guarded and afraid and out and happy on others. The night I went out to see the Christmas light display at a nearby restored mill comes to mind. 

I wore my fuzziest, warmest sweater along with leggings and boots and out I went to test what it would exactly be like to see the lights as a woman. Along the way, I even became brave enough to stop and order a cup of warm hot chocolate to thaw out. The whole evening turned out to be very satisfying because everyone I encountered seemed to be nice to me but even still wasn't what I called fun and games.  Plus, the twinkling lights were brighter and certainly more fun to see. 

It is also not fun and games when you have to deal with the up's and down's of having gender dysphoria. Often the process was similar to taking a continual ride on your favorite roller coaster. You spend so much time effort and money to prepare your image as you climb to the  top of the coaster. Then you feel the exhilaration on the first steep downward slope only to hit the bottom and be depressed again. After all, gender dysphoria is a deep dark place place to be. Especially when you combine it with a bi-polar disorder like I did. Often my mood roller coaster spent way too much time at the bottom until I reached out for help.

Just once I wish someone who thinks being transgender is a choice would have to experience our existence. Why would a person give up the gender privilege's they worked so hard to accumulate during their lives? The partial answer is it takes a person who can grasp a complex situation to accept a trans woman or man. Often we are still trying to understand our selves.

One thing is for sure, the journey for us has never been easy, is not a choice and is never fun and games.

More Comments

Old Trans Ohio Symposium Picture

 Connie sent me an email at Cyrstih@yahoo.com saying her comments to the blog were being rejected by Google. Since then, seemingly the problem has been corrected because her new comment came through just fine. 

Also I received another comment through WordPress  from Mark Earnest Johnson: "It is so much easier to open up anonymously, when the people reading your blog aren't looking at you as you find the words and try to force them out, when you can't see their expressions.

Introverts. We are the root of our problem. We want to be helped, loved even. But, we don't want to be bothered with people, and there are times when we don't even care if we are really understood and known.

Paying a therapist is like paying a plumber or painter, however. You are plunking down something for a particular service - to be listened to, heard, and counselled (given psychological treatment). When you don't disclose fully, it's like giving you doctor only part of the symptoms that forced you to make the medical appointment in the first place. If you feel you need to talk to a therapist for a particular reason, or reasons, the therapist should know exactly what those reasons are and what you really want to talk about. They need all the information they can get - and so do you.

As always, though, thank you for the insight and honesty."

Thank you Mark. I always have thought personally I communicate more effectively with the written word than the spoken one. 

And here is the new comment from Connie which just happened today: "I think, as with most things in life, you get out of it what you put into it. Part of a therapist's training is in getting reluctant people to open up. Some are better at it than others. The rest of their job, with the goal of helping people deal with the core problem, cannot be effective without the initial "coming out" stage. All I ever needed was to realize that being trans was never my problem; other challenges were only exasperated by my trans status. Once I took the "fuck 'em if they can't take a joke" attitude about being a transgender woman (not that it's a joke to be trans, but it is full of many twists and irony), I was able to relax enough to work on the rest. I was diagnosed bipolar by one psychologist many years ago, but he was approaching it with the gender issue being the main problem. Well, being trans is NOT a problem that needs fixing. I do know, now, that the woman I am handles the ups and downs of my bipolar conditions much better than the man I tried to be was."

Thanks Connie. My bi polar diagnosis was always treated as a separate entity, fortunately. I always thought it wouldn't be but my current therapist has always treated me being transgender as a separate but equal issue. 

As you can tell, comments make the blogging world easier to navigate when you attempt to write a daily blog. I really appreciate it!

A Quiet Day?

 Ironically, yesterday turned out to be a quiet day when it should not have been.

It all started out with my therapist's appointment. Instead of  a video visit, the link wasn't working so we just did it over the phone. So all my work with hair and makeup to get ready went nowhere. Fortunately, later on in the day I had another Zoom meeting to attend which I didn't have to get ready for. 

Between the meetings at the least I could watch the Cincinnati Reds baseball team who were playing a day game. Which they won. 

You Cyrsti's Condo regulars may know I am bi-polar and for some reason yesterday was one of those days I couldn't summon much energy at all. By the time my Rainbow Alliance Board meeting came along at 6 PM, I felt as if I had no ambition for the meeting at all. Normally, it wouldn't have been such a big deal but his time there were a couple of workshops coming up I wanted to volunteer to assist with.. One of which is in June and the other is in September, so I still have plenty of time to volunteer for one date or the other.

Pre Covid Summer Picture.

On the bright side, I received a very positive return comment from "Jenny" whose blog I just featured. Plus I am very fortunate to have a strong support system around me to help me when I am down. Including my meds from the VA. 

I am feeling better today.   

Quite the Week

Over the past week here in Cyrsti's Condo, I wrote about how busy the week was.

I believe the only day I didn't write much about was my Doctor's appointment on Tuesday. Since I have attempted suicide in my past and I am Bi-Polar, I have two mental health doctors assigned to me. One actually keeps track of my meds and the other of my life. Tuesday, I saw the meds doctor.

During my visit, I had my annual "update." It was worth noting to my Doc how my moods have been very smooth lately and much of it has to do with my decreasing Mtf gender dysphoria. However, I keep expecting it to start ramping back up any day. Unfortunately, I seem to always be looking over my shoulder. An example of positive reinforcement for me came Wednesday night when I went to Liz's martial arts class to pick her up. For a change, everyone there was nice and smiled and spoke to me. I especially liked it when one of them referred to me as "she."

Instances such as the experience always help my fragile confidence. Which in turn helps me live my overall life.

I know some people claim they don't need their anti depression or anxiety meds after they started hormone replacement therapy (HRT) but I am not one of them. In fact I had to make sure I could separate both sides of myself to the Veteran's Administration when I started my treatment years ago. In other words, I was transgender and Bi-Polar and one didn't equate to the other. So far, it's working.

Also this week, I did submit my proposal for a workshop at this years' Trans Ohio Symposium and I did choose the gender dysphoria subject. So far I have not heard anything back.

So, all in all it was a great week.

Cyrsti's Condo "Archive Post"

This post was written in November of 2013 and explains a lot about me as a person:

Recently I  butched it up and did some basic rewiring around Cyrsti's Condo. I accomplished what I set out to fix and destroyed my nails in the process of course.  Naturally,  electrical work is not recommended in Cyrsti's basic nail care book!

As I finally finished and had new sources of light for my dim eyeballs, I began to think of my own wiring. First things first,   of course I'm transgender or at the least gender fluid or whatever label you want to attach to me. Then let's not forget about my pesky bi-polar disorder which was actually diagnosed by a therapist I was seeing because of my gender questions. Plus, for a touch of spice, let's throw in my occasional bout with dyslexia. Yes I do start a book or magazine from the back or middle.  Doesn't everyone?

Certainly, I will never find out who was responsible for my wiring job. But dammit I want to blame someone!  Maybe I could start with Mom taking the late 1940's/ 1950's problem pregnancy meds. Some of which have been mentioned as possible links to transgender issues. I can hear her now, "Would you rather be transgender or not here at all? And by the way we can get rid of that trans trash by plugging you into a wall somewhere."

2013

What good would it do me anyhow? Over a half century later I'm fairly sure I won't see a lawyer commercial on the Jerry Springer show screaming if your Mom took Drug XYZ during her 1949 pregnancy and you are trans, call us now for cash!

Oh yeah, did I mention my attention span is so short I can barely read a book or the only time I am truly relaxed is when I'm asleep?

Damn! If I didn't live with me, I would have me committed!!!!

I can only say after I finally came to terms with all my wiring issues, I came to understand why my life was rarely boring!

Who the Hell Wired Me?

Recently I  butched it up and did some basic rewiring around Cyrsti's Condo. I accomplished what I set out to fix and destroyed my nails in the process of course.  Naturally,  electrical work is not recommended in Cyrsti's basic nail care book!

As I finally finished and had new sources of light for my dim eyeballs, I began to think of my own wiring. First things first,   of course I'm transgender or at the least gender fluid or whatever label you want to attach to me. Then let's not forget about my pesky bi-polar disorder which was actually diagnosed by a therapist I was seeing because of my gender questions. Plus, for a touch of spice, let's throw in my occasional bout with dyslexia. Yes I do start a book or magazine from the back or middle.  Doesn't everyone?

Certainly, I will never find out who was responsible for my wiring job. But dammit I want to blame someone!  Maybe I could start with Mom taking the late 1940's/ 1950's problem pregnancy meds. Some of which have been mentioned as possible links to transgender issues. I can hear her now, "Would you rather be transgender or not here at all? And by the way we can get rid of that trans trash by plugging you into a wall somewhere."

What good would it do me anyhow? Over a half century later I'm fairly sure I won't see a lawyer commercial on the Jerry Springer show screaming if your Mom took Drug XYZ during her 1949 pregnancy and you are transgender, call us now for cash!

Oh yeah, did I mention my attention span is so short I can barely read a book or the only time I am truly relaxed is when I'm asleep?

Damn! If I didn't live with me, I would have me committed!!!!

I can only say after I finally came to terms with all my wiring issues, I came to understand why my life was rarely boring!