082414

 

I am so stressed out I want to vomit. It's the awful "I'm not actually feeling anything but there's this dull suicidal sickness permeating my entire body" stress.
I don't know what's going on with this body. I don't know if these are side effects from T or not. It's only been two weeks. I can't tell. I'm just scared now is all. I know I'm sensitive to meds in general, but what is this?

I don't know. It's just that... I waited for this hormone stuff for 7 years. Seven solid years. Now that it's started, I'm freaking out, and for a reason I feared but never expected to actually happen. The dysphoria isn't going away, it's just changing form.
The more I do this, the more I try to tamper with this damn body, the more I realize that as long as I'm in a binary-sex physical form, I'm going to have massive stupid dysphoria. I can't handle a physical body very well.
Yes, I'm scared. I'll reiterate that. I'm starting to realize that I can't escape from my own skin, and the things I'm doing to try and "be comfortable" in it seem to be backfiring.
I accept it, sure. But this tampering feels blasphemous. It's that old "how dare you be trans*" fear, except now it feels valid and supported by my own actions.

I'm getting sicker and I don't know how much of it is T, how much of it is stress, how much of it is abuse.
I don't take good care of this body. I will admit that. I don't hate it, but... I don't take good care of it. At all.
There's a lot of neglect and self-sabotage going on, daily. Daily. Then my memory has conveniently learned to "blank out" all memories of consequences tied to actions, so I can easily "hurt myself" over and over without realizing that the pain is tied to the abuse. Stupid, but true. It's making me ill, and so so tired.
I'm in pain all the time now. It's making things difficult. I don't have the strength to talk to people, or work on anything much. I'm scared and I just want to sleep, but I'm so sick that it's tough. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Because I'm distraught. I'm desperate and frightened and can't seem to figure out where to walk. 24 hours of enduring this is difficult enough, without it feeling like a dead end.

I'm scared. I don't know what to do.
I keep feeling that this "PTSD" diagnosis is bullshit because "that happened in the past! Only a fool trips on what is behind him! Get over it and move on!" Is it that easy? I feel so weak for not being able to just drop this and let go.
I keep trying to 'move past it,' heal it, forget about it. It hasn't seemed to work. It's just numbed me out. Now, when I do get triggered, it's tied to carelessness. To more self-sabotage. "Well, I'm not affected by this anymore. Let's not fight back. I feel nothing."
I'd rather have screaming fear than dulling apathy. Fear at least tried to save my life. Apathy says that death is perfectly okay if "God sent it to me." What's that? Your body is reacting with panic? Just brush it off, it's residual. Don't be scared. Don't cry. Nevermind the danger you're in. There's nothing to be afraid of.
Maybe in the big picture, yeah. But... this chronic pain and anxiety can't be good. I'm very frightened.

Sorry. I don't know what else to say. I've been vomiting for days. I'm shaking, I can't sleep. My body hurts. My therapist keeps trying to send me back to the hospital. There are more cuts all over this body. I'm planning suicide.
What do I do. I don't know how to go on. What do I do.

I want to just forget everything and work on Dream World. I want to be a little kid again, joyful and carefree.
But now I have this adult body. Now I have stupid lingering memory scars of abuse that I refuse to acknowledge as valid, because I don't have any actual memories to match the visceral flashbacks.
I don't want to be a woman, please, the very thought terrifies me just as it did when our mind first broke in 8th grade. I don't ever want to be a woman, God I am so sorry, it just horrifies me personally. I want to vomit just imagining it, growing up to look like that... it's wrong. Is it? I don't know.
But I also don't want to be a man. Maybe I always looked up to them, idealized them. "Yes, that is better." Yes, I imagined being that for years. I fantasized about growing up to be everything from an androgynous dude to a big gruff guy to someone like my dad. I was okay with all of it. But now I'm on hormones, and...
I wish I knew how much of this was T and how much of it was abuse, how much of it was stress. I can't tell.

I am sick out of my mind. I am in so damn much pain. What do I do.
I'm going to try and dissociate for the evening, wait until tomorrow, when I can at least call a doctor.

Sorry.