Well it's been a while since I've bothered to splurge my brain out in the blog. So firstly since my last post I've received an amended appointment for Charing Cross, this time 16th February and with a different doctor, who I've heard mixed things about. However never the less it's an appointment and many other people in my position would kill for that, so I shouldn't grumble.
However this is now less than a month away, am I crapping it yet. YES!, yes I am. I've haven't really made any plans for the trip, mostly because I haven't decided how to approach it yet. By that I mean how I am going to present myself. I have 3 options.
Go as Josie.
Full female attire. Realisticly I am probably not where near ready for this option. Although I attend the TREC meetings, I only get dressed on site and change before leaving. I haven't really been out and about much. After speaking to other people they have advised it probably wouldn't be a wise choice for my first trip out, as I'll already nervous enough, and it won't be frowned at the GIC just because I'm not yet ready to go full time. Plus I would also realisticly have to book 2 nights in a hotel nearby to enable me to change before and after my appointment, because it's late morning and I would have to check out before leaving for my appointment if I only stayed one night.
Go as Joe.
I'm also not so keen on this option because it doesn't really show any progress or commitment on my behalf.
Go as Neither.
By this I mean don't go full on en-femme, but make an effort to look more feminine and less blokey. This probably a reasonably happyish medium between the other two. I don't want to end up out of my depth for something like this, but it's time I started pushing the envelope and taking a few 'risks' or I'm never going to get anywhere. I wouldn't need to book a hotel costing silly money because it's central London for 2 nights, although I may stay the night before just to clear my head a bit. I'm not sure yet.
I've just got a lot on my mind, and I need to start thinking more about this as the next few weeks will fly by.
Monday, 17 January 2011
Sunday, 31 October 2010
A Red Letter Day.
So about 2 weeks after my last entry, I received a bulky A4 sized letter with a Southall I knew instantly where it was from. Charing Cross Hospital. I was first of all relieved it had my full name on it, because I've always been a little concerned if it just said Mr J... on it my brother may open such a letter as we have the same initial, or if it just said J with no gender suggesting prefix my mum probably would have opened it, as she usually gets to the post first. There's really no way of explaining away a letter headed West London Mental Health and address from the Gender Identity Clinic other than the truth, and well I don't feel it is quite the right, time although time is ticking. It will probably come shortly after my first appointment no matter what my situation is.
So I opened it and was a little disappointed to find the was no actual appointment just an acknowledgement that they had received the referral letter from my GP along with lots on new patient literature and a questionnaire which I needed to complete and return. It wasn't a long questionnaire just bog standard name, address, NHS number type questions. Oh and of course GENDER, now at this point my brain screamed IT'S A TRAP! But on reflection it was just a generic West London Mental Health not a GIC specific one. I ticked male because well at the moment I am still living as and legally am one. Nor have I change my name yet either.
A week after I returned the questionnaire I got another letter. This time it was my appointment for 8th April 2011 @ 2:15pm with Dr Sheraz Ahmed. At just under 6 months, I was quite surprised as that was at the lower end of how long I'd expected to wait. I'd thought 6-9 months.
So I need to start planning things seriously, I have to be ready for this. I've waited my whole life for this, and have worked hard pushing and chasing to get this far for the last 2 1/2 years. I have to make the most of it. Once Christmas is out of the way if I still haven't got a job I will have to just take anything. I need to be working not just for the money but for the experience. Work of some description is a MUST in order to prove I am living as a woman, they will not look favourably on me if they thing I'm just sat at home all day 'hiding from the world'. I am going down to London in December to visit friends, this will give me a chance to do a dry run of getting to the Charing Cross and work everything else. As I'm sure come the day I will be stressed and nervous, if I know where I'm going it will hopefully make it a little easier at least.
So I opened it and was a little disappointed to find the was no actual appointment just an acknowledgement that they had received the referral letter from my GP along with lots on new patient literature and a questionnaire which I needed to complete and return. It wasn't a long questionnaire just bog standard name, address, NHS number type questions. Oh and of course GENDER, now at this point my brain screamed IT'S A TRAP! But on reflection it was just a generic West London Mental Health not a GIC specific one. I ticked male because well at the moment I am still living as and legally am one. Nor have I change my name yet either.
A week after I returned the questionnaire I got another letter. This time it was my appointment for 8th April 2011 @ 2:15pm with Dr Sheraz Ahmed. At just under 6 months, I was quite surprised as that was at the lower end of how long I'd expected to wait. I'd thought 6-9 months.
So I need to start planning things seriously, I have to be ready for this. I've waited my whole life for this, and have worked hard pushing and chasing to get this far for the last 2 1/2 years. I have to make the most of it. Once Christmas is out of the way if I still haven't got a job I will have to just take anything. I need to be working not just for the money but for the experience. Work of some description is a MUST in order to prove I am living as a woman, they will not look favourably on me if they thing I'm just sat at home all day 'hiding from the world'. I am going down to London in December to visit friends, this will give me a chance to do a dry run of getting to the Charing Cross and work everything else. As I'm sure come the day I will be stressed and nervous, if I know where I'm going it will hopefully make it a little easier at least.
Monday, 27 September 2010
Doctor, Doctor Gimme the News.
So it's been longer than I thought since I last updated this. Although I've got stuff to update I haven't really felt in the right frame of mind. Mostly because of family problems, things that aren't anything to actually do with me, but have caused me and the rest of the family an awful lot of stress over the last few weeks. Needless to say I feel there's a lot more to come of this in the near future, but I'm not going to write about it here because a)It's not related to this blog's subject b)It will bore you all to tear(more than you already are anyway)
So back on subject. Finally some great news funding has been approved for me to be assessed at Charing Cross. Of course as normal this was not straight forward firstly the June meeting was cancelled, so my fate wasn't decided until the July meeting some weeks later. Then when I called them and found out a few weeks ago, I was told letters had been sent to my GP for him to sort out my referral to Charing Cross. However this letter never arrived, so last week I chased it up again and got them to fax the letter(yes apparently people still do this) to my GP. I went to see him today to confirm he has it which he does HOORAY! and he says he'll write the referral letter today. Which I know he will. As there was no other course of business i.e. my blood pressure is fine and I didn't need any meds, we ended up having a chat about things. Mostly how he felt I'd progressed in the last 30 months, yes it's really been that long since I first saw him about it. He said he thought I'd come on a long way, because he remembers me being really unsure about things back then now however he's sure I'm doing the right thing for the right reasons. He said I sound much more confident about it, but I'm still aware that it's not going to be an easy ride. So now I sit and wait for a letter to arrive from Charing Cross telling me when my appointment will be(oh if only I thought for a second it will be that straight forward) and then at least I will have something tangible a date to work towards to plan for, to work out the time scale for telling people and things like that.
So other than the above things have been not too bad. The work situation is still grim, and the voluntary work doesn't look like it's going to turn into paid work. My mental state hasn't been great but mostly because of other things, but at the moment I think I am coping ok. I may make a counselling appointment next month though just to be sure. Also the breast forms I bought a couple of months ago are fantastic and have really made a difference to how I feel about myself and currently I wear them as much as possible, because it really boosts my state of mind doing so. Unfortunately at the moment I don't get much time to myself so it's most at night.
Oh there is one other thing I've noticed about myself in the last few months and it's to do with my confidence levels. I'm almost what you could call bi-polar with them. Most of the time they are cripplingly low, but every now and again I get a few hours or a day where they are sky high and nothing can touch me, to the extent I can do almost anything and think 'fuck the consequences'. Neither of these states is good for me I need to find some level ground where I have some confidence but I am still aware of the consequence of my actions. Although I haven't done anything I really regret while in one of these states, I know one day there's a good chance I will.
In other news my eye seems to be doing ok. No major improvement in the sight but the bleeding I had shortly after surgery seems to have cleared up and I only get occasional pain/discomfort now. So fingers crossed I won't need any more surgery on either of them.
So back on subject. Finally some great news funding has been approved for me to be assessed at Charing Cross. Of course as normal this was not straight forward firstly the June meeting was cancelled, so my fate wasn't decided until the July meeting some weeks later. Then when I called them and found out a few weeks ago, I was told letters had been sent to my GP for him to sort out my referral to Charing Cross. However this letter never arrived, so last week I chased it up again and got them to fax the letter(yes apparently people still do this) to my GP. I went to see him today to confirm he has it which he does HOORAY! and he says he'll write the referral letter today. Which I know he will. As there was no other course of business i.e. my blood pressure is fine and I didn't need any meds, we ended up having a chat about things. Mostly how he felt I'd progressed in the last 30 months, yes it's really been that long since I first saw him about it. He said he thought I'd come on a long way, because he remembers me being really unsure about things back then now however he's sure I'm doing the right thing for the right reasons. He said I sound much more confident about it, but I'm still aware that it's not going to be an easy ride. So now I sit and wait for a letter to arrive from Charing Cross telling me when my appointment will be(oh if only I thought for a second it will be that straight forward) and then at least I will have something tangible a date to work towards to plan for, to work out the time scale for telling people and things like that.
So other than the above things have been not too bad. The work situation is still grim, and the voluntary work doesn't look like it's going to turn into paid work. My mental state hasn't been great but mostly because of other things, but at the moment I think I am coping ok. I may make a counselling appointment next month though just to be sure. Also the breast forms I bought a couple of months ago are fantastic and have really made a difference to how I feel about myself and currently I wear them as much as possible, because it really boosts my state of mind doing so. Unfortunately at the moment I don't get much time to myself so it's most at night.
Oh there is one other thing I've noticed about myself in the last few months and it's to do with my confidence levels. I'm almost what you could call bi-polar with them. Most of the time they are cripplingly low, but every now and again I get a few hours or a day where they are sky high and nothing can touch me, to the extent I can do almost anything and think 'fuck the consequences'. Neither of these states is good for me I need to find some level ground where I have some confidence but I am still aware of the consequence of my actions. Although I haven't done anything I really regret while in one of these states, I know one day there's a good chance I will.
In other news my eye seems to be doing ok. No major improvement in the sight but the bleeding I had shortly after surgery seems to have cleared up and I only get occasional pain/discomfort now. So fingers crossed I won't need any more surgery on either of them.
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Eye-eye
I wasn't expecting to have any thing much to update this week, as on Thursday I went into hospital for what was my 6th and hopefully last eye operation. For those who don't know I've been having a lot of trouble with them for about 2 years, but now my right eye is stable and I can see very well through it with my glasses on. My left eye I have very little sight at all in, although it has improved slightly since this operation so fingers crossed that will also become stable now. I'll spare you the gore and details of the operation, besides it has not much to do with this blog's subject.
Now before I explain what happened on my overnight stay in hospital I need to give you a little background. In April I received a letter from the hospital saying my check up appointment for May had been cancelled. This letter was addressed to Mr. Jo Xxx. I didn't think a lot of it at the time, although normally all my medical letters are addressed to Mr. Joseph William Xxx. Nearly 2 months later I went to my GP and suddenly realised they too had change my name on my records to Mr. Jo Xxx. Odd I thought, I wondered if somewhere along the line they'd made some changes to my records due to me starting on the long road of changing gender, although I'd never specified to any doctor or counsellor what I was planning to change my name to. I enquired with my GP why it had been changed, he didn't know. Although I wasn't bothered about it being changed, I would have like to have been told about it in advance to avoid any sticky situations. I think my GP may even have changed it back now.
So anyway back to the hospital, where my records have all been changed to Jo. I was more worried about my operation that what they were calling me. Well until I came round in the recovery room. Now you have to remember I was drugged up on morphine and just coming round from the anaesthetic, but I overheard them on the phone discussing something about my bed, and they might have to send me home because the only bed they had was in a male bay and that wouldn't be suitable so they were going to try and put me in my own room. Now despite my discombobulated state I figured out maybe they knew, maybe it was in my records. So up on the ward, I noticed the nurses weren't quite sure what was going on with me, and also they avoided calling me either he or she and just referring to me as Jo. I just wanted to know what they knew about me so I could work out what to tell them, because I was just expecting to be treated as a male patient, because for now I suppose that's exactly what I am. I was also a little worried about what might happen when my parents visited me that evening, although that didn't last long because I was due another dose of morphine, funny how nothing really mattered after that. I wanted to talk to one of the nurses about things but despite my previous stays I didn't know any of them, so I decided not to.
Fortunately the night staff haven't changed and one of them I know pretty well, we'd talked quite a lot on my other visits. She's been a nurse for 30 odd years, so I bet she's seen it all. So I decided to bite the bullet and asked her what she knew about me. She confirmed that yes it was on my records that I have been being treated for 'gender issues'. This is what happens when all NHS records are centrally held on one database, I suppose. We had a chat for a bit about things, and I guess it put my mind at rest a bit, finally knowing yes it's on my records. At least I know what to expect. Although I still don't know if my funding has been approved, it's been six weeks now.
Things are changing, I'm going to have to think carefully about when I'm going to tell my family, because sooner or later something is going to out me whether I'm ready or not, and it would be better if they found out from me. It's not going to happen yet, but it is going to have to happen.
Now before I explain what happened on my overnight stay in hospital I need to give you a little background. In April I received a letter from the hospital saying my check up appointment for May had been cancelled. This letter was addressed to Mr. Jo Xxx. I didn't think a lot of it at the time, although normally all my medical letters are addressed to Mr. Joseph William Xxx. Nearly 2 months later I went to my GP and suddenly realised they too had change my name on my records to Mr. Jo Xxx. Odd I thought, I wondered if somewhere along the line they'd made some changes to my records due to me starting on the long road of changing gender, although I'd never specified to any doctor or counsellor what I was planning to change my name to. I enquired with my GP why it had been changed, he didn't know. Although I wasn't bothered about it being changed, I would have like to have been told about it in advance to avoid any sticky situations. I think my GP may even have changed it back now.
So anyway back to the hospital, where my records have all been changed to Jo. I was more worried about my operation that what they were calling me. Well until I came round in the recovery room. Now you have to remember I was drugged up on morphine and just coming round from the anaesthetic, but I overheard them on the phone discussing something about my bed, and they might have to send me home because the only bed they had was in a male bay and that wouldn't be suitable so they were going to try and put me in my own room. Now despite my discombobulated state I figured out maybe they knew, maybe it was in my records. So up on the ward, I noticed the nurses weren't quite sure what was going on with me, and also they avoided calling me either he or she and just referring to me as Jo. I just wanted to know what they knew about me so I could work out what to tell them, because I was just expecting to be treated as a male patient, because for now I suppose that's exactly what I am. I was also a little worried about what might happen when my parents visited me that evening, although that didn't last long because I was due another dose of morphine, funny how nothing really mattered after that. I wanted to talk to one of the nurses about things but despite my previous stays I didn't know any of them, so I decided not to.
Fortunately the night staff haven't changed and one of them I know pretty well, we'd talked quite a lot on my other visits. She's been a nurse for 30 odd years, so I bet she's seen it all. So I decided to bite the bullet and asked her what she knew about me. She confirmed that yes it was on my records that I have been being treated for 'gender issues'. This is what happens when all NHS records are centrally held on one database, I suppose. We had a chat for a bit about things, and I guess it put my mind at rest a bit, finally knowing yes it's on my records. At least I know what to expect. Although I still don't know if my funding has been approved, it's been six weeks now.
Things are changing, I'm going to have to think carefully about when I'm going to tell my family, because sooner or later something is going to out me whether I'm ready or not, and it would be better if they found out from me. It's not going to happen yet, but it is going to have to happen.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
Another Year Older.
Firstly I forgot to mention a couple of important events in my last post. Just before I had my last lot of eye ops last year, I plucked up the courage to tell 2 of my sisters. I don't feel I could trust my eldest sister with this sort of thing. I wrote them both a letter and gave it them at the same time. I felt it was better to tell them together, because then they could talk to each other about it, and it wouldn't feel like such a burden of knowledge for one of them. They took it pretty well, and have said they're supportive, but even now 10 months on I still don't really feel I can talk to them about it. I guess this is just a symptom of the way our family was brought up, but I do feel happy knowing when the time comes to tell the 'more difficult' members of the family I will at least have some support from within the family as well as from my friends.
The second thing was towards the end of last year my girlfriend and I decided that things probably weren't going to work out long term, and we 'sort of' split up. We still see each other quite a bit and we are very much still friends. I think this was the important thing. I think the longer things went on, the more strained things would have become. Right now I don't really need the responsibility of a relationship, especially as I am really not sure about myself and my sexuality. Only time will tell how this works out and how I'll feel once I am more comfortable with my body and who I am.
OK now on to current events. I am still waiting to hear from the PCT about whether they have approved my funding or not, the longer it goes on the more nervous I get about it having been rejected. Especially after a report that my local PCT overspent by £13 million last year. It's been almost 5 weeks now.
After experimenting with a few different sizes and styles of breast forms over the past few years and not being overly happy with any of them. I decided it was time to bite the bullet and go and have a proper fitting for some proper mastectomy ones. They were very expensive, but overall they'll probably be well worth the money especially when I eventually get to spending more and more time 'en femme' I'll have a while to get used to them before the next TREC meeting I can attend. They've changed the week, time and also the location of them meetings, which is not great for me. I had to miss the one last week because I had a family gathering, and I doubt I'll make the next one as I will be recovering from my eye op. Oh well.
So yes as I touched on there I'm going back into hospital on Thursday for what will fingers crossed be my final eye op. Not feeling too nervous, I'm used to it by now. I just want it sorted then I can concentrate on finding employment where I actually get paid for doing.
So now on to what this entry is really about, and what I've been procrastinating from writing about. So it's my birthday on Tuesday, woo-yay! and all that. I'm too old for birthdays i.e. I'm over 30. So last night it was arranged I would go out for a few birthday drinks after we'd been to the rugby. 'We' being 2 lads I went to college with and about half a dozen of their friends whom I know but not well. Now I told all my college friends early last year, and to be honest none of them took it all that well. One or two reacted the 'what the fuck get away from me you freak' way. Most sort of remained not committal with their opinions, but we began to drift apart seeing less and less of each other, so I knew they weren't exactly 'OK' with it. Rugby matches being about the exception where we'd still meet up, have a few drinks and a natter, about superficial things.
I just never in a million years thought they'd ever be as cruel and thoughtless as one of them was last night. After the match we were in the pub, it was packed with other rugby fans. We lost so you could feel there was a bit of an atmosphere of discontent in there. I've absolutely no idea what happened next or why. Yes, we'd all been drinking but that's no excuse. I don't know exactly what was said, I was too shocked to take things in, but basically one of my college 'friends' decided for some reason to have a bit of a go at me, and then out me to this group of people I hardly know. I was mortified, I didn't know whether to run away, cry, try to deny it, get angry and fight back, or what. So I just stood there, and took it. These people thought it was hilarious, fortunately the rest of the pub didn't take any notice or just maybe things could have been more ugly. So needless to say I soon made a hasty retreat, to various comments. This is probably the first major hostility I've faced, and sadly I doubt it will be the last. Like I said it's hard to describe what happened, my mind was all over the place and it's all just a horrible blur.
I just feel rather deflated and confused today, and feeling a little bit more untrusting of people, I guess.
The second thing was towards the end of last year my girlfriend and I decided that things probably weren't going to work out long term, and we 'sort of' split up. We still see each other quite a bit and we are very much still friends. I think this was the important thing. I think the longer things went on, the more strained things would have become. Right now I don't really need the responsibility of a relationship, especially as I am really not sure about myself and my sexuality. Only time will tell how this works out and how I'll feel once I am more comfortable with my body and who I am.
OK now on to current events. I am still waiting to hear from the PCT about whether they have approved my funding or not, the longer it goes on the more nervous I get about it having been rejected. Especially after a report that my local PCT overspent by £13 million last year. It's been almost 5 weeks now.
After experimenting with a few different sizes and styles of breast forms over the past few years and not being overly happy with any of them. I decided it was time to bite the bullet and go and have a proper fitting for some proper mastectomy ones. They were very expensive, but overall they'll probably be well worth the money especially when I eventually get to spending more and more time 'en femme' I'll have a while to get used to them before the next TREC meeting I can attend. They've changed the week, time and also the location of them meetings, which is not great for me. I had to miss the one last week because I had a family gathering, and I doubt I'll make the next one as I will be recovering from my eye op. Oh well.
So yes as I touched on there I'm going back into hospital on Thursday for what will fingers crossed be my final eye op. Not feeling too nervous, I'm used to it by now. I just want it sorted then I can concentrate on finding employment where I actually get paid for doing.
So now on to what this entry is really about, and what I've been procrastinating from writing about. So it's my birthday on Tuesday, woo-yay! and all that. I'm too old for birthdays i.e. I'm over 30. So last night it was arranged I would go out for a few birthday drinks after we'd been to the rugby. 'We' being 2 lads I went to college with and about half a dozen of their friends whom I know but not well. Now I told all my college friends early last year, and to be honest none of them took it all that well. One or two reacted the 'what the fuck get away from me you freak' way. Most sort of remained not committal with their opinions, but we began to drift apart seeing less and less of each other, so I knew they weren't exactly 'OK' with it. Rugby matches being about the exception where we'd still meet up, have a few drinks and a natter, about superficial things.
I just never in a million years thought they'd ever be as cruel and thoughtless as one of them was last night. After the match we were in the pub, it was packed with other rugby fans. We lost so you could feel there was a bit of an atmosphere of discontent in there. I've absolutely no idea what happened next or why. Yes, we'd all been drinking but that's no excuse. I don't know exactly what was said, I was too shocked to take things in, but basically one of my college 'friends' decided for some reason to have a bit of a go at me, and then out me to this group of people I hardly know. I was mortified, I didn't know whether to run away, cry, try to deny it, get angry and fight back, or what. So I just stood there, and took it. These people thought it was hilarious, fortunately the rest of the pub didn't take any notice or just maybe things could have been more ugly. So needless to say I soon made a hasty retreat, to various comments. This is probably the first major hostility I've faced, and sadly I doubt it will be the last. Like I said it's hard to describe what happened, my mind was all over the place and it's all just a horrible blur.
I just feel rather deflated and confused today, and feeling a little bit more untrusting of people, I guess.
Sunday, 25 July 2010
Part 4 : A New Hope :D
The next few weeks were a bit of blur, full of new feelings. Confusing feelings and exciting feelings. Finally having somebody I could open up to about this after so many years. Quickly I began to realise this wasn't going to go away and even though I didn't feel I could go through with gender reassignment, I had no choice I couldn't go on living that way for the rest of my life.
In early February I'd gone to my GP to ask to go back on my meds for depression, and I'd seen a new doctor who was only there part time, but in that one visit he made me feel like I could trust him and he wasn't going to change the subject to my diabetes every time I went in for something else, like some of them do. So when I went back for more medication I told him why I was depressed, and the ball started rolling very slowly, he didn't know the procedures, so said he would find out for my next visit.
Another few weeks down the line, I decided it was time to tell my girlfriend, I didn't expect her to take it so well but she was wonderful, she said she'd know something was wrong and had done ever since I was first depressed and it a way she was just to finally know what it was and that something could be done about it.
I thought a lot of the next month or two about things, in that time I think I more or less decide that when it came to changing my name it would be to Josie or Josephine, my friend more or less decided that for me when it was what she called me in reply to my original confession. Plus I didn't see the point in confusing things by choosing something totally different. People can still call me Jo, so it's easier for everybody.
After my next trip to my GP I was referred for counselling, this was pretty much a waste of time, I had 2 sessions but it was with a general counsellor who had no experience of gender identity disorder(GID). When I went back to my GP he managed to refer me to a psychosexologist, although as she was on long term sick leave it would be 2009 before I got to see her.
Around this time I also told a few more of my friends on my livejournal, at this point I had only every told girls about my plans as I just didn't feel comfortable yet telling any of my male friends. Again they were wonderful and supportive. Also I started having problems with my eyes, another health issue to worry about, my sight started deteriorating quite quickly. I had to have some laser treatment which wasn't overtly successful so I was referred to Liverpool for surgery in early 2009. The rest of 2008 was pretty uneventful as far as things were going.
January 2009, was a very busy month. Firstly I decided to come out to on the messageboard I had been posting on for years. This was very nerve racking, as these weren't necessarily people who liked me or that I knew well and I thought there would be some pisstaking if nothing else. Surprisingly although most people were quite shocked and never suspected the was no real negative reactions, a few raised eyebrows and a couple of 'OMG why would you want your penis cut off' comments but nothing bad. I also had my first appointment with the psychosexologist which went pretty well. I then told some of my 'real life' friend i.e. those I went to school and college with. Things didn't go so well with them, some were quite nasty and said I was a freak/weirdo and they didn't want to know me any more, a couple thought it was hilarious. Some seemed ok with it, but wpild soon begin to drift away, by not contacting me or replying to my text messages, This was quite hard because it was the first real rejections I had from people, but still it's their choice. I can't make people like me, and if they can't accept me wanting to be happy and be myself tough. Around this time I also starting buying and wearing some more 'girly' clothes on a daily basis. Although obviously being careful not arouse suspicions with my family. I also bought some more breast forms, and although I was a little happier with these, than the others they were still far from perfect.
I also had my first eye surgeries, which due to a bleed in my right eye left me virtually blind and unable to go outside on my own for about 4 months, this was quite hard because it was hard to keep in contact with people and things really ground to a halt. After the surgery it became clear they weren't able to do much with the sight in my left eye and it would remain very poor, but my right eye would probably be ok, once the blood had cleared up. It was the end of June before this happened, and it was a time of mixed emotions. I was on a massive high because finally after months I could see to use a computer properly, I could read and I could go out on my own. But also sadly somebody I was friends with from the messageboard very unexpectedly took his own life, which lead to a lot of people I'd been friends with, but not talked to in years posting on the boards. At this point I decided it was time to get a Facebook account so I wouldn't lose contact again. There was a course another round of explanations for those who didn't yet know, but again most people were nothing but supportive.
In August I took voluntary redundancy from my job, because they were making 2 redundancies and I'd been off sick for 5 months because of my eyes. So it was fairly obvious I'd be one of then and the voluntary package would be better than if they decided to make me redundant. I kept seeing the psychosexologist and I had 2 more eye operations on my left eye towards the end of the year.
In February this year I finally saw a proper psychiatrist, as part of my assessment I needed a proper psych exam in order to be referred to one of the proper gender clinics. Although I don't think it went very, some of the questions were odd, and sometimes he wouldn't accept my answers and he seemed to be trying to make me fit a certain label. I got the desired result and he said I needed to be referred. This report was sent off to the PCT in April and they were going to make a decision when they had their meeting on 30th June.
In May I started attending the monthly TREC meetings in Manchester, when I can. These offer me a chance to get used to dressing out and about in a safe environment, while also being able to learn how to pass as a woman, and learn how to apply make-up and just generally be around other transgender people.
Although I've had very little luck finding employment, I did how get offered some voluntary work, which I am still doing part time which I am hoping could turn into paid work. This won't be until the end of August if it happens as I am going back into hospital in a couple of weeks for a further operation on my left eye.
So this is me up to date. Hopefully now I can just update this blog to say how I am progressing and try not to use it too much like a journal where I'd just piss and moan when I am feeling a bit down. Hopefully soon the PCT will let me know if they have decided if they will fund my treatment or not, it's been almost a month since their meeting so fingers crossed I will get a letter soon.
In early February I'd gone to my GP to ask to go back on my meds for depression, and I'd seen a new doctor who was only there part time, but in that one visit he made me feel like I could trust him and he wasn't going to change the subject to my diabetes every time I went in for something else, like some of them do. So when I went back for more medication I told him why I was depressed, and the ball started rolling very slowly, he didn't know the procedures, so said he would find out for my next visit.
Another few weeks down the line, I decided it was time to tell my girlfriend, I didn't expect her to take it so well but she was wonderful, she said she'd know something was wrong and had done ever since I was first depressed and it a way she was just to finally know what it was and that something could be done about it.
I thought a lot of the next month or two about things, in that time I think I more or less decide that when it came to changing my name it would be to Josie or Josephine, my friend more or less decided that for me when it was what she called me in reply to my original confession. Plus I didn't see the point in confusing things by choosing something totally different. People can still call me Jo, so it's easier for everybody.
After my next trip to my GP I was referred for counselling, this was pretty much a waste of time, I had 2 sessions but it was with a general counsellor who had no experience of gender identity disorder(GID). When I went back to my GP he managed to refer me to a psychosexologist, although as she was on long term sick leave it would be 2009 before I got to see her.
Around this time I also told a few more of my friends on my livejournal, at this point I had only every told girls about my plans as I just didn't feel comfortable yet telling any of my male friends. Again they were wonderful and supportive. Also I started having problems with my eyes, another health issue to worry about, my sight started deteriorating quite quickly. I had to have some laser treatment which wasn't overtly successful so I was referred to Liverpool for surgery in early 2009. The rest of 2008 was pretty uneventful as far as things were going.
January 2009, was a very busy month. Firstly I decided to come out to on the messageboard I had been posting on for years. This was very nerve racking, as these weren't necessarily people who liked me or that I knew well and I thought there would be some pisstaking if nothing else. Surprisingly although most people were quite shocked and never suspected the was no real negative reactions, a few raised eyebrows and a couple of 'OMG why would you want your penis cut off' comments but nothing bad. I also had my first appointment with the psychosexologist which went pretty well. I then told some of my 'real life' friend i.e. those I went to school and college with. Things didn't go so well with them, some were quite nasty and said I was a freak/weirdo and they didn't want to know me any more, a couple thought it was hilarious. Some seemed ok with it, but wpild soon begin to drift away, by not contacting me or replying to my text messages, This was quite hard because it was the first real rejections I had from people, but still it's their choice. I can't make people like me, and if they can't accept me wanting to be happy and be myself tough. Around this time I also starting buying and wearing some more 'girly' clothes on a daily basis. Although obviously being careful not arouse suspicions with my family. I also bought some more breast forms, and although I was a little happier with these, than the others they were still far from perfect.
I also had my first eye surgeries, which due to a bleed in my right eye left me virtually blind and unable to go outside on my own for about 4 months, this was quite hard because it was hard to keep in contact with people and things really ground to a halt. After the surgery it became clear they weren't able to do much with the sight in my left eye and it would remain very poor, but my right eye would probably be ok, once the blood had cleared up. It was the end of June before this happened, and it was a time of mixed emotions. I was on a massive high because finally after months I could see to use a computer properly, I could read and I could go out on my own. But also sadly somebody I was friends with from the messageboard very unexpectedly took his own life, which lead to a lot of people I'd been friends with, but not talked to in years posting on the boards. At this point I decided it was time to get a Facebook account so I wouldn't lose contact again. There was a course another round of explanations for those who didn't yet know, but again most people were nothing but supportive.
In August I took voluntary redundancy from my job, because they were making 2 redundancies and I'd been off sick for 5 months because of my eyes. So it was fairly obvious I'd be one of then and the voluntary package would be better than if they decided to make me redundant. I kept seeing the psychosexologist and I had 2 more eye operations on my left eye towards the end of the year.
In February this year I finally saw a proper psychiatrist, as part of my assessment I needed a proper psych exam in order to be referred to one of the proper gender clinics. Although I don't think it went very, some of the questions were odd, and sometimes he wouldn't accept my answers and he seemed to be trying to make me fit a certain label. I got the desired result and he said I needed to be referred. This report was sent off to the PCT in April and they were going to make a decision when they had their meeting on 30th June.
In May I started attending the monthly TREC meetings in Manchester, when I can. These offer me a chance to get used to dressing out and about in a safe environment, while also being able to learn how to pass as a woman, and learn how to apply make-up and just generally be around other transgender people.
Although I've had very little luck finding employment, I did how get offered some voluntary work, which I am still doing part time which I am hoping could turn into paid work. This won't be until the end of August if it happens as I am going back into hospital in a couple of weeks for a further operation on my left eye.
So this is me up to date. Hopefully now I can just update this blog to say how I am progressing and try not to use it too much like a journal where I'd just piss and moan when I am feeling a bit down. Hopefully soon the PCT will let me know if they have decided if they will fund my treatment or not, it's been almost a month since their meeting so fingers crossed I will get a letter soon.
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
Part 3 : The Depressive Years.
So we're now in 2002, about the time I got broadband internet woohoo! This small thing ended up over time making such a massive difference to my life. First of all it gave me unlimited access to a whole world of information about gender dystopia, transgender forums, and information about surgery and the like. I began to maybe realise I was transgender and just because I didn't really fit the stereotypes I've been used to seeing and hearing about, it didn't matter. I also at the time I also joined a internet message board, little did I know what effect that was going to have on my life.
In the summer of that year I went into meltdown, I drank very heavily and must have slept with at least 5 different girls, including my boss' sister, okay not a smart idea but even before that things had gotten to a point where she was impossible to work with. One thing was the final straw in what was left of a once decent friendship earlier that year. My dad was admitted to hospital with a blood clot in his leg, I asked to leave early because he was in a pretty bad way. She said something like 'No, stop going on about your dad if not like he's going to die. I had to watch my mother die(this was about 18 months previously)blah blah blah something." By that point I wasn't listening I'd just walked out and was on my way to see him. Everything was about her mother dying. OK yes it's sad, but I'm sorry almost 2 years later you can't expect special treatment just because your mother has died. Sadly it happens to most people at some time in their life. Thankfully after a few days in hospital my dad was fine.
So towards the end of the year, the stress of work and my boos being a total bitch, coupled with the face I really wasn't coping with life in general. I ended up being signed off work for 2 weeks with depression. Another classic from my boss "What do you have to be depressed about? I had to watch my mother die!" Basically she was pissed off because I was the only one who knew what I was doing and worked hard so things weren't getting done and she got the flack. One thing I always smiled to myself about was they had to hire 2 temporary staff to cover my job, so it showed how much I was missed. So 2 weeks turned into another 2 weeks, then another 2. I was referred for counselling. I feel like I missed a real opportunity with this, I could have told her the ultimate reason why I was so depressed. But for whatever reason I didn't. I probably hadn't come to terms with it myself by then either. I ended up being off work for 11 months. When I went back thing improved a bit, things were better. Probably because people had been warned not to pressure me. People were shocked I'd lost about 4 stones in weight and I think then they realised I'd been pretty ill and just on some jolly for a year.
During my time at home, I spent a lot of time on the internet and I got to know quite a few people off the message board. I began talking to one girl in particular, she was only 15 I think when we first stared chatting(yes, I'm a paedophile :P) and became very close friends and we both kept each other on the straight and narrow during our depressive episodes. If I'm honest nobody else has had quite such a positive effect on my life, I'm pretty sure she saved my life on more than one occasion. My first girlfriend came back to town for a while and we got back together again and things sort of began to platen for a while.
2004, I sunk back into depression and ended up having to spend a few days and night in a mental hospital, because I began self harming very often. It's something I had done occasionally throughout my depression, but soon after I returned to work it became an almost daily ritual. I also attempted suicide by taking a overdose of anti-depressants. My girlfriend moved to Australia to stay with her grandparents for several months. I also started going to meets around the country with all the friends I had started to make on the message board. I also around this time found an outlet with sort of helped my depression and also in a way felt the girl in me out a little. I started collecting A LOT of cuddly toys mainly Stitch from Lilo and Stitch ones, I maybe became a little bit too obsessed. I think this finally managed to pull me around a little. I also began psychotherapy which would last for nearly three years.
2005, In January I again tried to take my own life, taking an overdose again. My annoying boss finally fucked off and quit her job. WOOOHOOO! For the next few years life pretty much stagnated. I remained with my girlfriend but we never felt the time was right to commit and move in together. Work went okay, not a great job, but easy and decent money and not 200% less stressful. During these years I also began to experiment with wearing women's clothing a little more. It didn't make any happier, so I sort of gave up and tried to suppress the feelings I had, and tried to just accept I was a man and that was the end of it.
Towards the end of 2007 I began to dream regularly about turning into a girl and in most of those dreams the girl I had become very close friends with from the message board was involved. Then in early 2008 I did the unthinkable. It was a spur of the moment thing, I never planned to. I never even really gave it much thought at all. I sent her a text message saying I had something I couldn't tell anybody and she might hate me if I told her. She asked me what it was, and I told her I wanted to be a girl. It seemed like hours until she replied to say it wasn't obvious, but she was fine with it. At this point I had no intention still of transitioning or having surgery, but that to would soon change.
In the summer of that year I went into meltdown, I drank very heavily and must have slept with at least 5 different girls, including my boss' sister, okay not a smart idea but even before that things had gotten to a point where she was impossible to work with. One thing was the final straw in what was left of a once decent friendship earlier that year. My dad was admitted to hospital with a blood clot in his leg, I asked to leave early because he was in a pretty bad way. She said something like 'No, stop going on about your dad if not like he's going to die. I had to watch my mother die(this was about 18 months previously)blah blah blah something." By that point I wasn't listening I'd just walked out and was on my way to see him. Everything was about her mother dying. OK yes it's sad, but I'm sorry almost 2 years later you can't expect special treatment just because your mother has died. Sadly it happens to most people at some time in their life. Thankfully after a few days in hospital my dad was fine.
So towards the end of the year, the stress of work and my boos being a total bitch, coupled with the face I really wasn't coping with life in general. I ended up being signed off work for 2 weeks with depression. Another classic from my boss "What do you have to be depressed about? I had to watch my mother die!" Basically she was pissed off because I was the only one who knew what I was doing and worked hard so things weren't getting done and she got the flack. One thing I always smiled to myself about was they had to hire 2 temporary staff to cover my job, so it showed how much I was missed. So 2 weeks turned into another 2 weeks, then another 2. I was referred for counselling. I feel like I missed a real opportunity with this, I could have told her the ultimate reason why I was so depressed. But for whatever reason I didn't. I probably hadn't come to terms with it myself by then either. I ended up being off work for 11 months. When I went back thing improved a bit, things were better. Probably because people had been warned not to pressure me. People were shocked I'd lost about 4 stones in weight and I think then they realised I'd been pretty ill and just on some jolly for a year.
During my time at home, I spent a lot of time on the internet and I got to know quite a few people off the message board. I began talking to one girl in particular, she was only 15 I think when we first stared chatting(yes, I'm a paedophile :P) and became very close friends and we both kept each other on the straight and narrow during our depressive episodes. If I'm honest nobody else has had quite such a positive effect on my life, I'm pretty sure she saved my life on more than one occasion. My first girlfriend came back to town for a while and we got back together again and things sort of began to platen for a while.
2004, I sunk back into depression and ended up having to spend a few days and night in a mental hospital, because I began self harming very often. It's something I had done occasionally throughout my depression, but soon after I returned to work it became an almost daily ritual. I also attempted suicide by taking a overdose of anti-depressants. My girlfriend moved to Australia to stay with her grandparents for several months. I also started going to meets around the country with all the friends I had started to make on the message board. I also around this time found an outlet with sort of helped my depression and also in a way felt the girl in me out a little. I started collecting A LOT of cuddly toys mainly Stitch from Lilo and Stitch ones, I maybe became a little bit too obsessed. I think this finally managed to pull me around a little. I also began psychotherapy which would last for nearly three years.
2005, In January I again tried to take my own life, taking an overdose again. My annoying boss finally fucked off and quit her job. WOOOHOOO! For the next few years life pretty much stagnated. I remained with my girlfriend but we never felt the time was right to commit and move in together. Work went okay, not a great job, but easy and decent money and not 200% less stressful. During these years I also began to experiment with wearing women's clothing a little more. It didn't make any happier, so I sort of gave up and tried to suppress the feelings I had, and tried to just accept I was a man and that was the end of it.
Towards the end of 2007 I began to dream regularly about turning into a girl and in most of those dreams the girl I had become very close friends with from the message board was involved. Then in early 2008 I did the unthinkable. It was a spur of the moment thing, I never planned to. I never even really gave it much thought at all. I sent her a text message saying I had something I couldn't tell anybody and she might hate me if I told her. She asked me what it was, and I told her I wanted to be a girl. It seemed like hours until she replied to say it wasn't obvious, but she was fine with it. At this point I had no intention still of transitioning or having surgery, but that to would soon change.
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