Blogging is Cheaper than Therapy

Here for a safe space to let my thoughts out.

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A Stormy Saturday.

Well, it is not stormy yet but you can feel it coming in. There are momentary breaks of sun through the thick clouds, the wind ramps up quickly spiraling in the neighbors yard outside the window to my right. It is days like this I wonder if I would have survived had we not opened the living room up for more light. I will come back to this another time. I have been thinking a lot lately about life lessons I have learned. I think one moment in my life that molded me into a young man is when I learned that there are NEVER fairytale endings in life.  The spotlight is on us.  Going into my senior year of high school, the varsity football team spent the off-season being projected as one of the best teams in Section V at the time and the other - well, the story starts with them and also ends with them. Training camp session after training camp session I worked as hard as the next guy and I was only a back-up receiver. We began to grow closer through the season, we were winning games at large, and I was seeing more field time than I imagined I would. I was living my dreams and some of my best friends were around me. We finished the regular season undefeated. I won’t ever forget the electricity in practice the week before sectionals started.  I played in two sectionals games, my defining moment to myself wasn’t the touchdown I scored the year before but in the second game when I got bowled over by someone the other team. We were away from the play, I set my feet and set up the block. The play whistled dead and at the exact moment I get run over by the guy I knew was going to be coming in for the block. I peeled myself up off the ground and went right back for another play. This time the run came my way and I blocked the same kid for my team to pick up some yardage. But hell - this story is NOT about me. It is sectional finals the stadium is filled on both sides for both teams. This is the match-up every one predicted in the beginning of the season. Halftime: We go into the trailer ahead by three scores. There was a weird feeling in the air that we could tell we were out of gas and they were just getting going. The tied the game with a couple minutes left in the game. It was a back and forth battle while no one picked up a first down for a possession. Your best friend tells you “we’ve got this, don’t you worry” with his arm heavily rested across your shoulders. The time is ticking down. 

They intercept the ball and are already in field goal range. In the moment it seems as though everything is in slow motion, your eyes jump from person to person reading their emotions.  5 seconds, 4 seconds. Time-out. As they set up for the field goal you could see the fans emptying out from our side. Players burst into tears. I turn to my two friends and we all sobbed, my best friend hugging me tight. The senior quarterback crying, the senior running back crying, this was the moment we were all there for. We had to watch them raise our trophy. Those countless hours in a gym, on a field, pushing sleds, winning games all season, all they mean is second place.  For me it meant: Because I was small. Because I was born female. Because my mom took years of convincing to let me play football... This was my only year on the varsity team. The two before and one after were all championship seasons. I missed out on that feeling.  But I learned a valuable life lesson. Sometimes no matter how hard you try, you are going to lose. And sometimes it won’t be a game but failure is failure. The first time you feel true disappointment you learn from it. Go into everything you do with the same fervor but never let yourself feel as low as that first time. There is something to learn in each experience so the sooner you focus on the learning lesson the sooner you grow.

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The Anxiety of Testing.

And I’m not talking about common core testing. 

I’m sorry to myself that it has been so long since I wrote but things have just not been well.

Within the last two weeks my health deteriorated quickly, I was unsure what was happening but I told myself it could not be anything bad. I desperately hoped it was my hormone levels being low, I called off of work and got my blood work done for my endocrinologist. While I was at it, I got tested. I was sure that my safety precautions meant that this was just a formality of hitting my three months of being in an open relationship, always better safe than sorry.

A few more days pass as I await answers from anybody and everybody. I thought I figured out what was wrong on my own and self-medicated. The first day after the medicine I was fine, even enough to run the Gay5k in a time of 30:32, but shortly after I began to spiral out of control again. Of course, there is never a more inopportune time to not feel well than Pride weekend. Saturday I dragged myself out of the house, I went to Momentum and saw my friends but sheepishly hung low when I really just wanted to let loose and dance my feelings away. I ended the night only being able to stick it out for one set of the drag show at The Waiting Room. I hate feeling under the weather because I become a hermit. As if my boyfriend needs any more reason to think I am unhappy. I woke up Sunday morning to bleeding from “Parts Unknown” and immediately my dysphoria took over. I skipped my first pride in 8 years as I buried my face in a pillow.

I couldn’t cry. All I wanted to do was let it out and then find myself somewhere in adulthood to get help.

As night fell and the pride festivities ended, my boyfriend came home to me still upset and frightened. I tried to force myself to sleep until I decided this was too much of an emergency.

“We have to ensure there is blood in your urine before we can treat you.” I couldn’t begin to describe to the doctor that my urine was ALL blood. I walked to the bathroom after disclosing my transgender status and any other concerns I had and I peed in that cup. The nurse looked concerned when she walked back into the exam room and took the cup away. I was falling apart. After a wait they prescribed me two pills, one for the UTI that I was diagnosed with and one to clear the blood in my urine.

No later then I walked out the door I got the worst phone call. I white-knuckle drove my whole way home knowing that things could be radically different from this moment on. I got home and belly-flopped face first onto the couch next to my boyfriend. “You don’t look happy,” he said to me. “I’m not“ as I burst into tears. I told him about the phone call and that I was headed to go get the medication I needed to be healthy again.

I felt lost, alone, helpless & hopeless, betrayed, a traitor myself, angry, embarrassed. The list of emotions could go on forever as I slowly made my way through another short week of work (after calling off on Monday to cope with the news).

So here I sit on Friday: no closer to an answer on who, where, or when but have answered the what and I still feel confused. Why: I probably deserve this for the things that I have done in my lifetime, but he doesn’t. He never asked for this, I did. He didn’t use the freedom of the open relationship, I did.

My anxiety grows daily, how do you survive in a world where you can’t trust your own “best judgment” - you do not.

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A Quick Spruce Up.

Today we spent hours working on the curb appeal of my house. Our front planter was full of weeds and white stones and no flowers, none. It is definitely a two day project but today we took all of the stones out, laid weedblocker down, poured in topsoil. We have all of our flowers de-potted and ready to go for when we are out of work tomorrow. I haven't done much yardwork like that on my own, except for when I did my moms front yard for Mother's Day last year, since my Papa and I would spend countless hours planting the flowers my nana always bought. My boyfriend chose the flowers because making decisions is very difficult and cause massive anxiety for me. One attracts butterflies and I can't wait to see the beautiful butterflies that come through. The rest of my weekend was splendid. I feel at peace with myself and my friends and it's helpful for me. Softball does that for me, it's a release, something I LOVE doing. I smacked a home run again yesterday. That's two consecutive years now with one for me. My training this offseason has thoroughly paid off and I'm less than 1 pound from my goal lean weight. This week I'm doing the gay 5k even though my friends I hoped would do it with me are out of town. That's okay, I can be social and push myself to finish this 5k on my own. I'm learning to be more independent but it's tough. Four years of allowing myself to rely on my boyfriend and I'm trying to take some of the burden off. I made the boy I work with go get some concealer so I could pay him back and help him cover up to mess I made before work tomorrow. He works too hard for me to make him look so unprofessional. I feel so incredibly guilty for it. Life is alright these days. That's new. As I sit here and let my swollen feet unwind on my massaging heating pad - woof.

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Timing is everything.

My job is pretty incredible, I won’t lie. I think the most exciting part about my day is my desk neighbor and while sometimes my patience wears thin because of work I love our conversations. One of our daily tasks, if you will, is to send each other links to music throughout the day. Whether youtube auto-played something terrible or a throwback jam is on (they are ten years my elder) we will send links all day long. It’s something that breaks up the monotony, and so do our life talks. The other day we were discussing bad music that came up through the day and they said to me, “does it ever weird you out to think, to someone somewhere - this is someone’s favorite song”.  Well, it turned into a discussion of even when you think “there is no way that person will ever be with someone” there is someone that they are ‘magically compatible” with. 

I’m basically a tornado of destruction when it comes to life.

How this all ties together? It doesn’t other than in my head it’s timing and the world working in ways we will never understand. I had my first threesome last night. I always felt as though it would be a bad experience when it happened and it ended up not sucking, sorta.  Our motto about it has always been, when it happens it happens and BOY did it happen. I think my boyfriend got the best bargain because he was the one who got off but I also got something new out of it. I topped someone without hesitation. I’m always subconsciously worried about my body and without realizing it, that fear stops me from being who I want to be in bed. During the thick of it I just hopped right up there. I want to write more but the trade is still in the bed and at some point I will have to take him back to his car. Damn, I feel like a whole new man today and feel as though this put to rest a lot of feelings I have been having. I have a ton to do but today is Saturday and I completed my to-do list yesterday. With that I made a one day to-do list and it will be one of those “unfuck your life” kind of days. Here goes nothing.

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Wednesday Assessment.

This week I wanted to do two things: a to-do list and meal prep. My meal prep is going splendidly. My to-do list, it is there but I am failing to meet more than 1 of 3 tasks I had set out for myself.  Goals for the remainder of the week? 1) Finish tasks 2 and 3. 2) Create next weeks to-do list. 3) Create next weeks meal plan. 4) Get the fuck ready for Pride.

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Getting Passed the Block.

A brief exchange.

Tonight I messaged him again. I needed someone that knows what I'm feeling in the last post. In the couple messages exchanged I found something to take my mind off my anxiety.

I realized I never put down my memories of my sister's graduation weekend.

Let's pretend this is a new post.

"769 of 770"

One part of getting older is that everyone else around also ages. I miss my Papa immensely. There is not a day that goes by where something doesn't remind me of him. I pulled his wedding ring out of the jewelry box and the gold chain (and Jets charm) my Nana bought me as a young child. I put the ring on the chain and strung it over my shoulders. The gold chain lay flat against my pale skin and thick hair. I am the man (no, not THE man) now and the weekend trip proved this to me.

It was Friday morning, I picked up my rental vehicle and my mother picked up hers an hour away back home. I paid for her car because she refused to let me pay anything for the ensuing weekend. She loved the car by the way, just coincidentally as she is looking for what vehicle she purchases next.

The ride was uneventful, it was a new car with less than 2,000 miles on it when I started the trip. We were headed to north country. My sister was graduating from Clarkson University, mostly known for the temps being below 0 prior to a wind chill being added. I drove the whole five hours, I also drove to Potsdam instead of Canton where the bed and breakfast was. We made it just in time to leave for dinner after a quick hello.

In town was my father, my brother, my nana, her boyfriend, my aunt from Texas, my aunt from NYC, her boyfriend, my cousin who grew up in Texas but now goes to FIT in NYC, my mom, my boyfriend, and myself. My sister and her boyfriend stayed at their own places but spent the rest of the time with us.

We went to dinner at a beautiful restaurant right on the lake. The food was amazing and I drank my first flight. My sister's boyfriend graciously did the beer suggesting.

We went back to the B&B where we spent the evening playing games like LRC. We ate the goodies that we each brought. I brought candies that my great-grandma had when I was growing up, watermelon hard candies. My grandma Rose was also a large part of my life (and my grandpa Leo but he passed away when I was 9). My first tattoo was for her and again like all the important people who have gone, she finds her way to my mind often.

I hoped throughout the weekend that my Papa's ring wouldn't fall out of my unbuttoned Henley so that someone could see it. The last thing I wanted anyone to do was cry or feel sad, I just know I wanted him there with me. He watched me graduate twice and missed both of my sister's. He was there with me as I won the betting games all night long, of course, as well.

I brought a Mother's Day present for my nana, mom, and one aunt. For my other aunt -a just because present to match. How everyone wept or told me endlessly how thankful they were. I wasn't trying for that I just knew I wasn't going to be able to drop a dime because of my mom all weekend and wanted everyone to feel special ESPECIALLY my mom.

We went to bed in a beautiful suite and without fail I didn't get to enjoy the room the way I wanted to as my boyfriend and I found something to scuffle about. We went to sleep mad at each other but when we woke up we gently settled our differences and put on a happy face. We went downstairs to an individually ordered and prepared breakfast by two young guys who obviously went to one of the four schools without 10 miles. The fruit was so fresh, the eggs from their own chickens, the owner spent the time laughing and telling stories with us at the table. I spent the rest of the morning on the balcony connected to my room with my headphones in and soaking up the sun.

Shortly after that we loaded into the cars and went to my sisters sorority house where the girls who were graduating would cross the street onto campus. We all took pictures (and drank beer) and then headed to the ceremony.

This started at 1pm - my sister graduated 769 of 770. We left after 5, which did not give me long before I had to leave to head home. We again returned to the bed and breakfast where I spent time playing with my brother, helped my aunt prep for an interview, talked to my nana about finally taking the tools from my papa's shop, and to tell my aunt from NYC to expect me soon.

My family got to stay one more night but opening day of softball called. I packed my bags and headed home. Our dogs were elated to see their dads and I can say the feelings were mutual. They are like our kids and together they will always be.

It hurt to leave my family's side. My mother who worked so hard for my sister and I to be where we are and I never want to disappoint her. Every time she says "my son" something positive follows. My nana looks at me with sad eyes and I know; Everything I am today was because of the man she loved dearly. My aunts are two separate individuals but I love each equally as much. One has never faltered and tells me like it is. One had a brief grieving period and I understood. My cousin has blossomed into herself and I see that liberating my aunt from what held her back from fully embracing me.

I'm the man of the family now. I embrace the power that gives me, the power to influence my families emotions. My job is to keep everyone's spirits lifted and to keep us moving forward.

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Literal, I think not.

When I finally stop having anxiety over something, I get anxious about something else.

Today I have been overridden with anxiety. I kind of did this to myself when I knew better and now I'm in a panic mode.

And here I am. I can't even write about it or I'm going to be sick.

I've come back to this because i should not shy away from letting it out and taking a deep breath.

A few weeks back is the beginning of my downward spiral. I did something that I have never in my life done before and that is get involved with someone from work. Fast-forward a month and things are quickly deteriorating. I'm not sure if it's nerves because I feel an immense guilt for doing what I did, or if it's because things could be getting out of hand?

I feel an immense amount of guilt because in a way I betrayed a friend. Anything that comes of this is my fault. I was warned.

I'm also worried that if something bad were to happen, this would be a do or die situation. Do: Leave for a world I crave and need. Die: Allow myself to fall apart with anxiety and depression and seemingly a growing alcohol addiction.

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Time to Get Serious.

A coincidence? That you're a towel?

Today was the first time I've seen that episode in my life but have been immersed in its quotes for as long as I can remember. But, I'm totally a towel right now.

This week I'm going to set myself a few goals. The first being a to do list. On Sunday evenings I will write out a to do list as well as do three days worth of meal prep. I will again assess both on Wednesdays and do the same for Sunday. Reassess. Repeat.

Thanks deadmau5 pandora station, you are saving my soul.

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It's a new battle, with a similar foe.

I am coming to terms with a few problems I have in my life. One of which is drinking. I previously used drinking as a crutch to allow myself to be social. I spent 18-21 blackout drunk in hopes I would wind up "cool". Isn't that what all college kids do? I was really just lost in a world where I did anything but fit in. This time though, my drinking is causing problems with my relationships. Friendships. Home. Myself.

Thursday night I made a series of terrible life decisions, most of which included phone calls to people I should not have been on a phone with.

It always stems from one triggering moment right? Here's my triggering moment. I was leaving work and got a text message that my boyfriend was meeting up with a close friend of mine again. While we are open and this has been a winding road to navigate with many bumps in the past three months, these encounters had been making me start to feel weird around my friend. I quickly lost track of my night and made a giant fool of myself in front of co-workers.

Rewind again: its the year opening fundraiser, $7 pitchers and I already knew what I was looking forward to. There is a cute boy at work who I know would try to break rules with me but I was just too curious to listen to my voice of reason. As a previous manager I know better than to sleep with someone I work with. I'll get back to the aftermath of this encounter another day.

I drunkenly told my boss what happened and how now I'm stuck in a web of the exes already happening at work.

My weekend ended with a long talk, where things seem settled and that there will be no tremors or aftershock. Except I know it is coming whether I like it or not. It is going to be on my accord because in that terrible set of choices I made one good choice. I might get closure to the one thing that made me realize how lost I truly am.

My thoughts race:

A dream or reality of a dark and cold night, everything that was so strange feels so familiar.

I've made the decision and fallen back on it several times. Could the third time be when I truly change my life?

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My Favorite People Share the Name.

It wasn't what I was expecting when I showed up for my first encounter as my new self. I put away my thoughts when I realized I wasn't going to get what I needed. In this sense needed means my confidence, the ability to see myself exist in a world where I support myself. This doesn't mean that I didn't think about it, it was just a different kind of thinking. 

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Backlog of Thoughts.

I haven't posted in a bit, but I have a list of notes of things that popped into my head to go back and write about later. I have been in limbo with my transition. What do I mean by that?

Like this earth things are forever changing. Nothing lasts forever, and - for example- organisms that have existed are nothing like they were millions of years ago.

The season changes, the days grow longer or get shorter. It's the same every year.

Coming out; finding myself; stealth era; finding myself.

I recently have let go of my fears and have come out to some of my closet friends. I feel like this gives me a chance to be my most authentic self. I think my fear of being outed has controlled my mind for several years now.

On my fourth birthday I posted something along the lines of we are headed into a battle that only we see coming. Little did I know this year would bring so much publicity to the transgender matter.

I have a lot to offer to this movement. I am a motivated individual. I successfully transitioned while focusing on college. Building my new life and identity. I have a home. This is mine. No one to tell me I can't live somewhere even though I pay on time or am a model tenant. I have a great job. It's not what I went to school for but its something I love doing. This job also allows for me to alter my self-view and in four months have altered my body to where I am more comfortable than I have been in a long time.

I scheduled my consultation for my top surgery revision. A present to myself for my 26th birthday. A trip to a city where I can clear my mind. Being with one of my best friends is so therapeutic in itself.

I am ready to let my whole self shine.

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Ultimately, is this really what I wanted?

I had a heavy conversation with a friend who started to transition not long after myself.

We started off by talking about a mutual friend, ok maybe they were my ex, who just recently started to transition.

Background: We dated through the time I hit my lowest point and into the beginning steps of therapy for transitioning. Let’s just say they started off supportive, but that wained quickly.

My friend and I immediately started talking about how long our process had been several years back. Months upon months of therapy sessions where someone made a decision we were “ready” for our “T letter” and allowed us to move forward in our lives.

These days it seems as though every lesbian out there wants to be a transgender man. I stated the “epidemic” happening back home where in the past year almost 20 have started T with no previous signs of wanting to transition. We talked about the hastiness of surgery. This person’s employer covered top surgery for him (and while that is great, seriously, no one should ever be mad about this) your body changes, your mentality changes. A short couple of months on testosterone with no previous professional therapy would not be the ideal time for such a major surgery.

I know a handful of people who have de-transitioned and my friend told me about his possible desire to. He cited the fact that even several years on T he doesn’t pass and told me that he is envious of me.

How was anyone jealous of me? Honestly, I have found myself jealous of him. I took a cheaper route for top surgery. He was more fit than I am. I don’t find anything about him less “masculine” in any way.

“Absolutely. I have a very different experience than you though.”

I find this is why having people in your life to relate to will keep you in check. While I have had no true desire to go back to therapy, even though I know I should, I find myself talking to my friends as a way to mentally stay healthy. Our transitions and experiences will never be the same as life is truly how you perceive it, but you can remind those who need to hear it that they are strong enough to handle the emotions that they are feeling.

To answer my original question: yes, ultimately this is what I really wanted. I am a grown man, I own a home, I have a great job, I have a wonderful family to call my own but I also have a family who raised me and loves me more than I will ever know. Now, this conversation is why I am here. We discussed ways to focus on ourselves. My story is that focus.

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Welcome to Manhood.

I grew up in this home with white walls. I hid in that closet just off the kitchen. I played baseball in that backyard with the luscious green grass. I spent countless hours in that shop, the smell of wood will always remind me of him.

I can go on and on about my childhood and how I learned so much from him, and maybe some day I will. My grandfather - not quite six feet tall, on the heftier side, with wisps of wonderfully gray hair. He was wise, and he made me wise beyond my years. I walked passed everything so familiar and sat on the edge of the bed. I knew this was the last time I could see him and there was so much I could have said. Before I walked into the room I was told the tumors had made it so he couldn’t see. What do you do to show someone how much you love them when they can’t see? He was wrapped up tightly in blankets at the end of July, I placed my hand beside him, I asked him how he was. We talked superficially for a moment and I started to hold back my tears.

Since beginning my transition I vowed never to be emotional. I thought it made me a weaker man.

I leaned over to a jewelry box he made my Nana. I ran my hand over the smooth wood and pulled out the drawers in the letters. We talked about love. A butterfly music box sat beside it, I wound it up and played the song. He immediately knew what it was and told me “I bought that for your Nana a long time ago”. They had shared their love together for over 50 years of marriage alone. Here I am, 22 and facing the fact that I was losing one of the most important people in my life and that the next time I saw him I wouldn’t be able to speak with him.

I had not come out to my Papa yet, but it was not by my choice. I was asked two years prior to let the family focus on him and we would cross the bridge when the time came. I spent almost a full year on testosterone simultaneously trying to spend as much time with him as possible, but stay far enough away that my changes did not alert anyone and start more family turmoil. As I sat there I wanted to tell him about my transition. I wanted him to know I was at peace with myself. He spent 22 years watching me struggle being unhappy with the world for reasons I did not know or understand. I can’t remember what I said being it is four years later, but he responded by calling me buddy. A man who valiantly fought any stranger to correct my pronouns as a teenager was addressing me in a way he never had before. In this moment I grew up. I will never forget the feeling of knowing I did not have to say a word but he understood. I told him I loved him so very much. I wasn’t in the room very long as death is nothing I deal well with. I said good-bye to my family, but not to him. I will see him again and I know he is watching me now, hopefully proud of the man I have become. In reality, he made me who I am today.

Over the next couple of days I played the waiting game back home for a phone call I hoped would never come. It came. So did this journey of grieving I find myself on to this day.

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Opening Dump of Thoughts.

It was a cold February night. While the winter had not dumped even a fraction of the snow we saw the year before, I found myself driving on roads quickly being covered in snow and ice for something I never thought I wanted. Time Rewind: My boyfriend and I had opened our relationship on the heels of me having cheated on him. Most in his situation would never think of staying let alone stay and allow outside sex to keep happening. This is something I will elaborate on later, but I knew after I had slept with this stranger that I wanted nobody but my boyfriend. I sobbed and expected the worst as I told him. I was headed back to a place where my life began. A place where I became who I was. I lost a sister. I gained a brother. I lived the constant cycle of friends who come in and out of your life during the college years. I made some of the better decisions in my life here. I parked my car and reluctantly stepped out. I trudged through the snow and ice in a parking lot that looked like it easily could be turned into a lake if this were all to melt quickly. It was already pooling at my feet, it had been a warmer week overall. I had looked at living in this exact complex previously, I remember I thought it was sterile and uninviting. I am not sure what I was expecting.

I turned the corner and there it was. My past looking me right in the eye. Had my legs not been as heavy as concrete-filled burlap sacks I would have run as fast as I could to get out of there. My feet were frozen and most likely it was because my heart had just dropped to them. I took of my fleece-lined hoodie and set it on top of the bag I had carefully packed as I ran out the door. I cracked my beer and sat on the couch. As I began to relax I started to feel an overwhelming wave of guilt. Why was I guilty? This was all ok. My boyfriend knew where I was, what my intentions were, and who I was with. We awkwardly moved to his room but I found myself focusing on anything but the moment. He also did not seem as comfortable as I had imagined he would be for someone who most likely did this much more often than I. Side note: I was searching for an individual older than I; bigger, beefier, with a great beard, a dominant attitude, and someone ready to do the deed and move on. If you haven’t figured it out - that is not what I found. With every touch we both continually consented to what was happening. I was nervous and figured it emanated off of me. I wanted this, why couldn’t I make this happen? I ran out of time. I could have stayed. I should have stayed. A month and a half later I know a few things. 1) I am completely unaware of myself and who I really am. 2) I relive this experience daily. This may be the one and only post about him, so what are my primary goals of this blog?

1) I am going to tell my story the way I have always wanted to. Mostly to myself, and maybe someday I can compile these posts into one true point-of-view story. My memories are fading and it is time to put the pen to the pad. 2) I need a safe place to sort out my thoughts and feelings while I make heavy decisions going forward.

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Starting all over again.

Note to self. When creating a private blog, don’t make it so you can’t access it yourself. How I forgot the email, password, etc enough to then get me locked out of my public tumblr and multiple email addresses I will never know. So I guess I will copy and paste my previous posts and start again.