Happy Pride. To All.

It’s Pride Month, 2017 so here we go!

My name is Jeremy. I also go by Brandon , and I also like going by Sloane. My online names can be lordbatty or jacksonngalaxyy. I’m an up and coming Drag Princess by the name of River Styxx. I am going to be 26 years old, I am a female to male pretty boy transguy. I was on testosterone for almost 3 years before a tumor was found and we had to treat that first and foremost. I recently had top surgery (March 9th, 2017) and currently almost 3 months post op.

I want to be a writer. I also want to be a cat behaviorist. I LOVE COFFEE. I love the weather/tornadoes and I want to storm chase at least once in my life. I am fascinated by seahorses. I love going camping. I adore cats. I like to wear makeup sometimes. I talk too loudly sometimes. I am disabled in more ways than you could think up. sometimes I have trouble speaking my feelings. I have depression. I have anxiety. I have an eating disorder. I love anything between Ariana Grande to Krewella. I want to visit Italy some day.

But above everything else, I am Human. Just like everyone else. i have likes, dislikes, relationships, friends, dreams, aspirations, ups and downs.

I also have some of the best friends in the world. I’m friends with drag queens, drag kings, genderfluid people, trans people, gay, lesbian, bisexual, and every in between. They are my family. They are the people who mean the most to me in the whole world. And even though I’ve only known most of them for a year, it feels like I’ve known them for a lifetime. I’m always so … grateful for them. I’m always happy to see them. I’m always so amazed at the family I have created, formed, grown with, and have come to see as nothing but that. Family. My true family.

I also have a great boyfriend and a very personable cat. Both of which , I wouldn’t be here today without. We’ve been together for 4 ½ years and Dylan’s been in my life for 7 years. Between me and my boyfriend, we’ve been through a lot together. And no, not always good. It’s been several ups and downs. It’s also been several amazing days. We’ve had so much happen in the last 4 years and in that time, we’ve grown a lot together and as our own persons. It’s been amazing to see the growth we’ve both had and learning from mistakes, victories, and losses. I love him so much and never did I think I would have such a growing, lasting, long-term, fun, challenging relationship that I do have. And it’s been one of the most rewarding, realest, enriching loves I’ve ever come across in dating.

I’ve traveled around a lot with Dylan. We’ve hopped from plane to plane, car to car, home to home, never knowing where we’ll be or what we will be doing. But we’ve stuck together and he’s been an amazing support animal for me. We support each other, and he has been there for me when I didn’t have anyone or didn’t know what was going to happen or where to turn to.

If you’d have asked pre-transition me where I would be in the next 5 years I would have probably said ‘I don’t know’ or ‘Dead, probably.’ I didn’t know I could have a life outside of … what I grew up with. I didn’t know these wonderful people I now call my family existed. I didn’t know I could BE trans. I didn’t know there was someone out there waiting for me to date and love all of me. I didn’t know I could … BE ME. I didn’t know, and never in a million lifetimes here or now, did I think that in five years … I would still be here, even. never did I think I would find the friends I have today. Never did I think I would transition. never did I think I would even be doing DRAG.

So many bad things have happened in the  last just TWO years (ie. tumor/cancer, being off my shots, countless legal actions against me for being trans, removing my ex-relatives from my life completely was the most recent thing I did, being homeless and couch hopping for almost 2 years, more money/legal issues for being trans, etc), but sometimes I have to try and step back and look at all of the good things and try to hold onto those and think about it.

Good things like top surgery!, embracing my pretty boy nature and saying ‘fuck gender roles, I’m still a man. I can wear whatever the fuck I want and still be me’, stepping my foot into doing Drag and actually landing an official show, surrounding myself with the good people I do have and getting rid of those who just didn’t have a place in my life, cutting off toxic relationships (ie. the ex-relatives), having an ally within the family I can see and trust and talk to , finally landing an apartment with some of the friends I love, getting most of the legal actions taken care of for good, and so much more.

This Pride Month is so much more different for me, in a good way. I can celebrate out, loud, and proud. I can celebrate being me. I can celebrate being trans. I can celebrate my friends, my family, my boyfriend. I can celebrate my top surgery. I can celebrate … so much of me that I have come to see and know. I’ve grown a lot. I’ve seen a lot. I’ve learned a lot. And there’s so much more to that.

This Pride Month is so much better for me. And I am just so happy and grateful for not only my personal self-growth, but for my boyfriend’s, for my friends’ . . I’m grateful for the LGBTQ center as my home and the people who work there and go there.

This Pride Month, for me personally, is such a great one.

And remember if you can’t come out yet or live loud and proud or celebrate openly, that’s okay. Five years ago, I never even had a thought to Pride anything. Because I couldn’t. Five years goes a long way, and I’ve both lived and seen it. Don’t ever check it off. Don’t ever think you won’t get there. Because I certainly never did.

And now I have the biggest LGBTQ circle I’ve ever experienced in my almost 20+ years of life.

Don’t give up. Happy Pride to all. You mean the world to someone.

❤️💛💚💙💜

{{ photos under the cut }}

Continue reading “Happy Pride. To All.”

You’ve Made Your War. Now I’m Making My Peace. Now I’m Taking My Stand.

This post is a letter. It’s a LONG letter. There is a video embedded. It deals heavily with personal issues. It deals heavily with me calling out bullshit, abuse, and horrible behavior. Please use caution when reading this entry

Contains: transphobia, homophobia, “being not prejudice”, no fucks given, and mentions of abuse (mental/emotional) ~ be warned the video have heavy themes of religion, transphobia, homophobia, touchy subjects, harsh discussion, and just blatant rudeness. if the video content DOES NOT WORK, please tell me in the comments, i can work on fixing it if possible.

If you’re joining me for this ride, thank you. I hope that this helps more people in my situation to realize the gravity of how some “family” treats their LGBTQ relatives. I hope this helps you find peace of mind, and I hope that it helps you realize that it is okay to cut ties and move on.

Always be you. Always be happy.

And always remember, there’s someone out there who truly does care and love you for who you are as a person.

Let’s proceed ♥

*                        *                                     *

Before we press on, I want to make this point as clear as I possibly can. This will be the last time you hear from me. Do not call me, do not text me. Do not look me up on facebook, do not send me any emails. Do not ask around looking for me. Do not ask around trying to contact me. Don’t ask about me, don’t even think of me. Erase me from your existence. Because from what I know to be true, you already have.

Now. Let’s move on.


Let’s start with the graduation party. You have to be some kind of special ridiculousness to pull a stunt like that and not think that I would hear about it or notice. Heck, you even fuckin’ invited me in the midst of some fifty other people you know would not be nice to me. Don’t exactly know what you were trying to do there, other than probably look polite or look nice in the eyes of everyone, but it was pretty low. And that’s not even the lowest part of all that.

To the fact that you purposely placed it on my birthday is nothing short of atrocious. Back that up with you didn’t even ASK to have it at Pam’s house in the first place. Back that up even more with when asked about said party and why you all picked that day and whatnot, people couldn’t even be looked in the eyes when stammering over a “explanation”. I don’t know how you could even be okay with that, but I guess it doesn’t matter since, you know, you only have one child now and that child sure as hell isn’t me.

Which brings me to my next point. Hearing word that you have only one child and Becca doesn’t have a sibling. That’s even lower, and insanely disgusting. You told me once  that ‘we wouldn’t disown you’. Well I’m not sure what you’re calling it in your twisted little world, but I would say that’s a huge red flag right there. Hand in hand with slathering a graduation party right over my birthday like a brand new shiny poster covering up an old, tattered one left on the wall for a few days. Not only am I disgusted and can’t wrap my head around it, but nobody can. Not Bobby’s parents, not my friends, not people I’ve talked to who agree with me on EVERYTHING I am saying but can’t open their mouths about, and definitely not my therapist. Which will bring me onto another point in a few moments. But sit tight, I’m sure you’ve made it this far.

Oh. One more thing:

If you’re pissed off at my “rude tone”/”bad attitude” well then sorry too bad. I have the right to this and I’ve been quiet for far too long. Enough is enough and this ends now. I’m done being quiet. I’m actually being really polite, all things considered. I could have written worse. And you know it.

Before I get to the therapist portion, as if the birthday-graduation party thing wasn’t enough, your horribly ill-mannered reaction to my telling you I have a tumor and basically have to take treatment pills every week to combat the tumor / cancer . . . I don’t even know where to begin with that. At first, I wasn’t even going to bother telling anyone because I knew it would not matter. Nobody was going to give a flying fuck. Not like everyone else did who’d come to the house twice, sat with me, talked to me, took me out, and tried to help me forget about it. Who helped buy my $30 medication for said treatment. Who checks in on me REGULARLY both in person and messaging. I haven’t heard snippet of anyone in how long? Weeks? I don’t hear jack unless I message first and honestly, I don’t like to in the long run.

But back to the tumor conversation. It was baffling to myself and so many people that you first only commented on me flying and how could I fly with a tumor. THEN went so far as to say that surgery probably shouldn’t have happened with the tumor if they’d have found it in the bloodwork, which they did. Then didn’t comment for several seconds or minutes until you decided to say Becca had a MRI and didn’t like it. Which … didn’t even relate to the topic much at all and was totally derailed. And your favorite sentence repeated several times (“K”) and basically that was that until flight day. I merely told you out of courtesy for your guys’ health since I knew there had been imbalances in the past. But honestly? What courtesy do I owe anyone with the way I’m treated?

I don’t even know how to properly comprehend the conversation. If your child comes to you saying “Hey I have cancer/a tumor and this and that” . . . you don’t react so poorly. So bland. But then again. I’m not anyone’s child anymore, so I guess that makes more sense now, doesn’t it? It just simply does not matter.

I’m saving the worst (best) for last, so I’ll just move onto the therapist part.

I’m seeing a therapist. Weekly. Maybe more if I have to. To get rid of all this fucked up mental and emotional abuse I’ve stacked up over the last who knows years. And yeah, I know what  everyone’s thinking or saying already. “WE NEVER ABUSED YOU HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?! WE HAVE ALWAYS DONE EVERYTHING FOR YOU. YOU DIDN’T HAVE IT BAD.”

Well then. Let me just pull out my notebook of receipts and take you on this ride even further.

Everyone’s living in 1991. I’m not that sick little child anymore who needs 300 doctors, has this or that, needs this or that. I’ve done so well on my own in the last few years and I’m proud of it. I’ve become healthy enough to not need the GTube. I dropped so many medications. I haven’t needed to go on multiple doctor excursions since North Carolina. I’m so tired of everyone living in the past and “you almost died when you were born”, “you don’t know what we’ve done for you over the years”, etc etc etc. I’m not talking about then. Ever. I’m talking about NOW. How I’m treated and looked at NOW. How disgusting and twisted and distorted your views on “family” is NOW. It’s honestly toxic and damaging to everyone. But of course, you’ll never see that. You’re all so perfect. You’re all so loving, polite, and caring. Let me tell you something. Bobby’s parents have been more accepting, kind, caring, and TRYING than you in the last seven years I’ve been out. And they’ve only known me shy of four years with being with Bobby. So I mean. You can’t blame it on generational stuff. You can’t even blame it on religion anymore. It’s purely personal now. And that’s horrific.

Emotional and mental abuse are real, whether you wanna believe you weren’t horrible parents/relatives or not. You may have never hit me, but that doesn’t matter. It’s just as real, and it’s just as damaging. And you will have no idea, because you refuse to believe it.

And all of this and more? Oh, it’s going to take many, many, many years to sort out and let go of and stop. It’s going to take lots of therapy. It’s going to take my friends, my boyfriend (yeah that’s right. We aren’t lesbians. We aren’t girlfriends. But you know what? That just goes right along with EVERYTHING else, doesn’t it?), and the people I’ve known for just a year that have become way more family than you have in the last seven. You know who’s messaged me in the last year? You know who’s called? Who’s come to the house to see me? Who’s helped me with food and money? That’s right.

I used to think religion was a huge factor and it is. But it’s also a mask. You use it to justify your actions, your behaviors, and your overall life and what “family” is to you. Family to you is people who have done everything for you, who X, Y, and Z. Who are forced into sticking around. Who are guilted, gaslighted, manipulated, and lied to. Your twisted senses of reality around you and what you define as family is . . . alarming. You know what family is????

  • Family are people who show up at your house when you need them to. Who want to hang out with you, who help you with monetary necessities, who take you to where you need to go, and who house you and not ask for much in return.
  • Family are people who DON’T treat you like a display or a science fair project to be “woooowwwww”ed and “i can’t even believe it” over and ask you about every little thing about yourself and gender, what bathroom you use, why you do that, when do you do this, why surgery, why that, i hope you change back and change your attitude, etc etc ; when they aren’t being educated at all, they’re just being them and looking to pick arguments.
  • Family are people you can talk to any time of the day about heavy stuff, bad stuff, good stuff, and who will carry you through every single bad and good thing and not remind you ENDLESSLY about “well when you were sick and in the hospital we did X Y and Z for you”. no. they support you in THAT time and we move on with life, better or worse. (stated previously)
  • Family is what you make it. I’ve made mine. I know who they are. I know their names. I see their faces. I know how they treat me. I know that they REALLY are the ones who love and care for me.


I  know who my family is.

I suggest that you better shape up yours.

 

Onto my next point. A video. Recorded a year ago TODAY (May 16th, 2016). Only few knew about this at first, but my god. It’s the worst thing anyone could ever lay ears on. So let’s dive a little further.

That is, if you’ve made it this far.

 

I can also account for several different occasions to where this isn’t the only time in the last two years. The first time I decided to dress less than feminine, I was told that I wouldn’t be taken out in public “looking like that”. At the time, it’s ironic, that you had stood up for me saying it was “just clothes”. But as soon as I find my true self and come forth with it, it’s a problem. It’s not just clothes anymore. Now it’s some huge ordeal and issue that I need to snap out of and go to therapists and church for. It’s kind of laughable.

The summer we went to North Carolina for the first time to meet everyone? I remember the one thing that was said to me was “If you’re going to be together and chose this life, why does one of you have to be the boy?” Can’t shake that one off, and you can’t argue that one, either.

When I came out as lesbian first, and was dating Sam and all of that stupidness happened? The one thing I remember that was said to me, again, was “You know what the Bible says about that.” I lived in fear of going out in public with you guys, around church people, around Mark and everyone else the years following that until I was able to move out and be my own person. The time Julie ended up sending you emails and causing unneeded chaos after I really did (sort of) come out as trans? That was the end of it. It was one of the reasons, yes, I did move to NC. It was one of several reasons.

More recently, when I was living back in Poland last summer. Nobody wanted to take me out in public. Nobody wanted to take me to the store, the movies with them (which prompted the argument in said video because Becca didn’t want me to go to the movies with her), camping, etc. I was barely talked to or engaged unless it was for dinner, to argue about something stupid, or ask me questions about this or that. Minor things, whatever. Not the point. I was an embarrassment to everyone, and it was made very very fuckin’ clear to me. Nobody had to say anything. And the only reason I had to come back was because of all that bullshit with Shauna and Zack. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made that choice on my own. Brings me to my next point:

Not only that, but I’ve pretty much been couch hopping and homeless for the last two years (since I left Poland in Sept 2016-now). Because I refuse to step foot in that house or even in Poland for that matter. I refuse to be around this . . . toxic environment that’s been created. Not only surrounding me and my life, but literally everything else that has been going on. It should say something to you that I would rather have the stress of not knowing where I will be tomorrow or even the next months or weeks than be there. That should speak volumes. But I doubt it will. Since you all seem to be such upstanding model citizens and “family”. Still, it should at least make you think a little.

Really, though, the thing that broke it all for me and is the end all to be all was the whole graduation party debacle. That and claiming that you only have one child/she’s the only child. That’s really . . . dense. I don’t know how you can act like that, then still claim “we love you no matter what”, “we don’t support your life, but we still love you, you’re still family”. That’s not family. That’s not human. That’s disgusting. And I’ll say it again and again, whether you get it through your heads or not.

You’ve created such a toxic hole in the floor that people are literally going left and right to get away from it. Like I said, don’t be surprised that I’ve heard things. That I know what’s going on. We’ve always been drama seekers/starters/involving ourselves in each other’s business and causing problems. I just can’t believe that someone would stoop so low as to literally throw me away like I don’t exist. Not only from one person, but from several. This is not an isolated incident. And you can’t claim it otherwise. This has been going on for a while. And you can’t say it hasn’t.

Nobody should go to this length to make sure that they are embarrassed about their child/family member. Nobody should take such drastic, dramatic, argumentative, horrific measures that have been taken here. Nobody should be that ashamed of their child / relative PERIOD.

And I know that not a one of you are going to see it that way. But of course I’ll be in the wrong. Because of course ‘you’re the one living this life, so of course you’re not going to see it’. At this point, it’s far far far beyond any excuses and any stupid reason you have for behaving this way. It’s personal at this point. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have totally erased my birthday on purpose. And Becca wouldn’t mention that she’s an only child. This is too far gone and I have no reason to press further into trying to mend any form of relationship at all. I shouldn’t have to feel pressured into talking to anyone because “we’re still family”. I am an adult, and who I chose to keep in my life is my choice alone. Releasing toxicity and negativity is something I’ve learned to do. And I’m doing it now. No more silence, no more appeasing you, no more tip-toeing. I’ve had it and I’m ending it here. I’m sick and tired of playing nice, and I’m done.

You can take with this what you will. I know everyone’s going to get pissed off about it and say every little bad thing about me. That’s fine. Say what you want. If you want to make me out to be this bad person over and over and over again by saying things that are fucking 100% true, then that’s your problem. If you wanna say bad, nasty, mean things about me and call me out, then do it. Just know I won’t be around to hear it, so it’ll fall on deaf and also manipulated ears. People will take your side, sure. But I know very well who’s on mine. Video was proof enough to my friends, to Bobby, to just about anyone who’s seen it that this is exactly the way I am treated. And it’s gone on long enough, and it’s not one isolated incident.

I don’t have to excuse or forgive anyone. Have it your twisted Christian way, sure, but I don’t have to forgive my abusers. I don’t have to subject myself to “well they were nice sometimes”. Sometimes nice and sometimes supportive and sometimes doing things for me doesn’t excuse behavior. It never will, and I don’t have to kneel before you just because of reason X, Y, Z, done this or that for you. It was done out of ‘well I have to’ , or more or less so  that you looked like the pretty, polite, kind family you so desperately want for the world to see. Sure, before you did things for me because you loved me once. But recently in the last, oh, seven or so years? Not so much. It became routine to just do things for me, talk to me on holidays only, and respond to messages only when  I engaged first. It became robotic. And for a while, I tolerated it. For a while, I thought it was something. Now it’s just . . . intolerable. It fucking hurts, the way everyone’s did me wrong. And if you want to deny it, then fine. But I’m not going to be expected to hold on much longer. I’m cutting the rope, and I’m dotting my last i and crossing my last t.

Maybe someday you’ll change your attitudes. And then we can talk. But if not, then I don’t know what to tell you or what to say to you.

Life’s funny sometimes, but I know I can at least do something about some of the things that are happening. This is one of them. This is my first step into a lighter future. Lighter, happier, and real. I’ve only met a handful of my friends since last year, and in addition to Bobby and his parents. They all have done so much more for me, loved me, and supported me than that I’ve had in the last who knows when from any of you. I’m shocked at the overwhelming amount of . . . love and hope and support and family that I have found and made my own. It’s so much more than I could have ever thought possible. Even though it’s been a shit two years for me, I’ve had fun. I’ve had experiences I never ever ever would have dreamt I could because of your anti-world, anti-lgbt, anti-everything way of thinking. I have more friends than I ever had growing up. I can go places I never knew existed. I have community. I have life. I have family. I don’t need your twisted, destructive views on what family is.

So think about that. Think about what I said. Think about how I’m feeling. If you even want to. Think about how twisted and sad this all sounds. Really look at yourselves, if you can. You have to have some sort of humility. You have to have some kind of little voice in your head that is fucking telling you that you are very wrong here. You gotta have some kind of conscious to even have made the decisions you have made and said the things you have. You may think I’m being rude and have a tone and I’m attacking you, but listen. You have got to know even just a little bit in the deepest, farthest, darkest reaches of your mind that you’ve placed in a little box. That I’m right. And that you hurt me far more than you care to admit. You’re all human here. Strip away religion, ways of life, personalities . . . we’re all human. You have to know that. And if you don’t, then I feel sorry for you.

As I said in the beginning, this will be the last time you’ll hear from me. Maybe if everyone shapes up their attitude in a few years, we can sit down like adults and talk. Maybe I can forgive you, maybe not. Maybe nothing will be restored ever again. Whatever the case may be, and whatever happens just know that I did this for me. I had hoped for seven plus long years that things would change. That maybe I could salvage something if I worked harder at it. If I talked to you more. If I came over sometimes. If I invited you to come say hey. If I messaged you. If I called. Everything began to fall on deaf ears. And in between giving bland fucks about the tumor situation and the graduation party, and claiming that there was only one child????

Well. That was probably the push I needed to get to this point. I had hoped, maybe another year to try. And I could work on either just letting go quietly, slowly, and politely. Not so much, sadly. You’ve picked this battle, and I’m sorry that you think so lowly of me as you all do. I’m sorry that you had to go this route of destruction and hate. And I am sorry that you chose this.

I was, at one point, willing to work with everyone. I was willing to try and be nice. I had been nice, in fact. Which is why I argued so strongly in said video and tried to help people understand left and right. Just treat me like a fucking person. But no, you couldn’t even do that. So I’m done being pushed around, questioned, being silenced, being hidden, and being afraid. You may tell people there’s only one child, but they’re not stupid. I’m out there still, (and I really hope you haven’t told people I moved away, ran off, died, or some other horrible cover up story for saying “I’m an only child”, “I only have one child”, “I don’t have a sibling”. You could have fashioned any story at this point. Unless you truly are dumb enough to tell people you have disowned me for good. But people would probably applaud you for that ANYWAY) and you can’t hide that. You cannot hide the fact I am alive, I exist, and I am loud. You cannot dim this light, and you never will. I want you to remember that. I want you to live that.

To end this, there are points below. I don’t care who read this entire thing first, I have some small words. So here we go.

Tracy: Most of this was for you. So if you read this first, then I don’t have anything further to say.

Ajay: Good luck to you, honestly. I mean it.

Becca:  I don’t even know what to say to you. I’m hurt, mostly. That’s mostly what I can say.

Pam: Keep doing what you’re doing.

Everyone else: I’m sure you’ve all read this by now in full. Most of it was for you, too. If you’ve watched the video, I’m not sorry for it. I needed to record it. I needed people to see what was happening. I needed to document what garbage it all was. I needed to show my hurt. I’ve nothing more to say here, either.

So that’s it. I’ve said what I had to. Now it’s on your shoulders. It’s up to you what you do from here. But like I said, I’m cutting the ties right now. I’ve had enough, and it’s time for me to move forward. This is the final word, and I will have the final word here and now. You can argue with everyone else about this, you can say what you want. But I will not and do not want to hear it. I will not subject myself back into the endless cycle I so desperately tried to get myself out of. I’ve crawled here, fought here, and managed to get this far. Writing this was anxiety inducing because I know exactly how the reaction is going to be. But it was a push in the right direction from my therapist, my friends, and more importantly to myself. I’d been lying to myself for so long about trying to make things right. I ended up hurting myself over and over again. Now I’m fed up and hurt even more.

All I can say is it that it was the right push.

No need to thank me. It’s what you wanted, after all, isn’t it?

So you’re welcome.

-Jeremy

 

Dear Mother’s Day

I see you there with your cutesy ads on tv and you’re cozy feelings about mom loves you no matter what you are, who you become, or what you’ve done. I see you in loving gift giving, hugs, kisses, ‘I love you’s’ and all the things you’re supposed to see, do, and have on this day.

I see you, but more than anything. You don’t see us.

You don’t see the kids like me, (or even adults, let’s be real here) who don’t have today to celebrate. We don’t have a mother to celebrate, or even a motherly figure. Whether she’s parted long ago, been abusive to you, or just isn’t in your life for any reason at all. Mother’s Day is not for everyone and for kids like me, it’s a day we fear the most. It’s a day we rather not discuss. And it’s a day we really don’t want to acknowledge.

Sadly, some of you may have to acknowledge your mother on this day, even if you don’t want to. Maybe she’s gaslighting you. Maybe she’s making you because “you have to love me, I’m your mother” or “I’ve done everything for you, and you act like I’m the most horrible person in the world?” If this is the case, I am truly sorry and I hope you can get through the day as smoothly as possible. I’ve been there, believe me. I have been there time and time again. And I hope someday soon, you’ll be able to get out of it.

For many others, like myself, especially if you’re LGBTQ+, it’s hard as well. I’m unraveling years of abuse from Tracy and in recent light of events (despite CONSTANT “we would never disown you” in the last few years of me coming out as trans), suddenly I’m not even her child anymore (stated in more recent blogs). So for this reason, it’s bitter. I’m bitter. I’m angry. As much as I don’t give a fuck anymore about her and her fucking thoughts and views on who I am as a person, much less not even her fuckin’ child anymore, it still sucks on this day. Because while everyone else is posting long statuses with photos, and heartfelt comments and greetings to their mother, I’m left sitting here despising my own and wondering why the fuck she couldn’t just be an adult and love me anyway. And I’m wondering why I still fucking care so much when I shouldn’t. If this is the same case for you on this day, then know you’re not alone. Like myself, there’s so many of us who are hateful and bitter and hurting today. It’s okay. Don’t be ashamed of that. Today is not the day for your m*ther if she’s been as hurtful and abusive as Tracy.

Maybe your mother has passed on, whether recent or many many years ago. If this is the case for you, I am sorry for your loss. I hope today goes by smoothly for you, too, and that you can think about happy memories you’ve had with your mom and smile. While it may be hard, I hope that you can remember the good times, even some bad if it comes with a bit of good, and find a way to honor her on this day. May you find light and love this year, and every year that follows.

Dear Mother’s Day: today is not for everyone and I wish that more people understood that. Whether it is for the reasons above or even if you have two moms and of course the media doesn’t show that enough in their commercials. Take the time for YOU today, no matter what your reason is. Play a video game if you can, listen to some of your favorite music, watch some YouTube, watch some cartoons. Turn off the tv because all of the commercials are just . . . stifling. Do something for YOU today, either after you have loved your mother if she’s with you, you’ve been forced to interact with your mother if she’s abusive and negative, or you’ve honored your mother if she’s passed. Please take a few hours , if you can , for you today as well. Your mental and emotional health is just as important as celebrating this day. No matter what your standing is with your mom.

To everyone on this day who maybe isn’t having it the best: please don’t feel bad about today. Don’t feel guilty about hating the day. And please do remember to care for yourself. Everything you think or feel is human, especially on days surrounding relatives or parents. Don’t ever feel like you’re obligated to love someone just because they’re, well, “family”.

So no, I do not celebrate today  Will I ever one day with maybe a mother figure or something? Maybe, I don’t know. But for now, I rather not think about it too much if I can help it. Maybe the years will get better as they go by. Maybe it won’t bother me so much as I get older. Maybe it won’t even register that it’s a special holiday, just a normal weekday. At least, that is my hope for now.

In ending,

Dear Mother’s Day:

Please don’t forget about the rest of us.

 

A Ticking Bomb: An Open Letter

I firstly (well, mostly for this) want to apologize to everyone for my moods. This is the worst I have felt in a long time and I wish I could snap out of it. I really do. Because I know it’s irritating, it’s annoying, and it’s bitchy. And I absolutely do not mean to be any of those things.

 

I don’t know if it’s the fact of not being on T, the high levels of the prolactin, the depression, the stress, or everything at once. I don’t even know if I can blame anything anymore. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I am as nasty, irritable, bitchy, and negative as people have always pointed me out to be. Maybe I was just ignoring it.

 

Further, I’m sorry for messaging people often. I shouldn’t have to do that. I shouldn’t have to feel like I need to talk to someone about my shit all the time when they have their own. I shouldn’t expect people to be there for me. I shouldn’t have to ask people for help no matter which type it is. I shouldn’t have to. It gets annoying when someone comes to you too much. I understand that, and yet. I feel like I always have to press the messenger button. Most of the time, I don’t. Or I mean I think so . . . .

 

I’m usually not so aggravated, short tempered, irritated, down, upset, or bothered by people being around me. I usually love company. I usually love hanging out. But it’s been so bad lately that I haven’t wanted to do any of that, as much as at the SAME TIME, I do want to be surrounded by people and to be talked to, hung out with, or engaged in. But then it feels like I can only take so much without that burning, red hot irritation coming in strong. I’m not usually like that and I hate it. It hurts. And I have been doing so fucking well keeping my head on. I haven’t lashed out. I haven’t yelled. I haven’t cried. I haven’t snapped at people. And I’ve come so so so close to doing it. I’ve lost enough friends and support as it is. I can’t lose any more.

 

No matter how hard I try, no matter how far I run . . . it’s like picking up sand and trying to keep it in your hands while also trying to shove it in your pockets and you keep on running the shorelines. You’re not gaining much, but you’re losing some here and there. You might have a few moments of forgotten moods and stress of life, but then one little thing can make your rope thin and almost snap. I feel like a bomb. I feel like I’m close to someone cutting my red wire. Even if it’s myself. And I don’t want that to happen. I don’t NEED that to happen. I don’t need something to blow up. I can already feel it getting closer and closer to happening.

 

My complaining , it needs to stop. I need to shut my mouth most days. I need to stop being so negative, all the time. I need to stop thinking I have it worse than everyone else (though I can say that for some). I’m sick of the “I have it worse” competitions. I’m sick of the “OH I HAVE THAT TOO!” and the “Nobody does shit for me” and the “I don’t know why I have so much wrong, I’m a good person. Nobody has it worse than me”. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of hearing it. I know you have it bad, but please. You don’t know. At least you can ask for money every week and get it when you need it. At least you have better health than I do right now, though yeah, it’s not the best. It’s better than me. At least you have parents who love you, talk to you, and are there for you the moment you come up and start yelling.

 

I need to stop asking people for this or that, and I just . . . I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so . . . horrible. I’m sorry for the things that have happened over the last year and previous to those I have met recently, the last three or more years. I’m a ball of nasty stress, problems piled on top of other problems, bad moods, depression, and so much more bad. And I feel like it’s gotten worse. I don’t know who or what to blame for that anymore. All I know is that I have so much going on and it seems to just be adding onto the intense mood feelings.

 

There are days where I just want to chuck my tumor meds away. That I shouldn’t even be granted the luck I had in catching something and being able to fuckin’ treat it. Though not true (I hope), I feel like the most unwanted bitch ever. I’m looked at badly in the eyes of so many people already and from there, it just feels ten fold. I love that my mind lies to me (I hope), and that I can just . . . pick myself apart and see each little wrong thing I’ve done and know where I’ve bothered people, where my eruptions have almost happened, and what lines I’ve almost completely wiped clean.

 

It’s like all of my colors are running together. The brights of my friends and boyfriend and the dulls of myself. They’re dripping and blending into each other faster than I can repaint. It turns into a mess of oil slick colors in nature. So then it becomes clear to me that I’m bringing everyone down with me. Everyone’s in my drama, my emotions, my problems . . . whether or not they want to, it’s happened. And I can’t paint over it for the better fast than it’s all blending together.

 

Anyone who has known me in the last year or more know that I’m not that bad. I mean, I should hope so. I’m never this bitchy. I’m never this snappy. I’m never this hot-blooded. I’ve become annoyed and aggravated with so many lately, unwillingly. Those I call my friends. Those I call my family. I hate feeling like it’s a 50/50 day. I can look at someone with brightness one moment, the next it feels like my eyes are just nothing but burning red staring at everyone with utter annoyance and anger. And not just people, but sounds. Sometimes the cats. And I’m never like that with any pet. Any little thing can just be . . . red. It’s the only way I can explain it.

 

And for that, to everyone, I am so so sorry. I wish I could make it stop. And I wish I knew why it was like this. Like I said, I don’t even know if I can blame anything medical anymore. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m just that bad of a person without realizing it. Maybe I’m just starting to see myself the way everyone else has been seeing me for the last year or so. Hah. Maybe I am just a red-blooded, cold-hearted bitch. Maybe I am just . . . made of everything that’s bad. There’s more words for it, but. I can’t think.

 

I can’t focus on anything much. Nothing distracts me much anymore. Nothing really makes me happy. I’ve been trying to watch my favorite YouTubers or shows. But I can’t pay attention enough to enjoy it. I try to take in distractions from people to do things or watch things, etc. but I just don’t want to. I don’t feel like it, when I do at the same time. Everything feels messy. Nothing feels enjoyable. Nothing feels happy. Nothing looks good.

 

Life itself feels so . . . messy. It’s like an atomic bomb went off in my head and everything around me is destroyed but at the same time, it’s still put together. It’s a mess that you’re trying to put back together and sort though. The hated erasure from Them, the tumor, the legal bullshit, not being on testosterone, money paranoia every single month, worrying about where I’m living and how to make it look more homey, having somewhere to live period . . . wanting to just feel like I belong. Wanting material things just so it FEELS better for me. I know that things don’t matter but god. It hurts when I can look around houses and people’s apartments or bedrooms and just. It feels like they have what I don’t. It feels home. It feels . . . amazing.

 

I’m jealous of a lot of things lately and for that, I am also sorry. Jealous of homes, rooms, people who have their lives together, have jobs, have money they can spend on friends and themselves, people who can drive and have cars without worry, people who can just live our their dreams and lives and be able to do so, people who seem to get looked at and supported more than I do (even though I know that’s not true, please don’t get mad at me for that. I’m trying to be as honest with this as I can and not sound even WORSE) . . . the jealousy is overwhelming. But not as much as the moods and redness. It’s just a small drawer in my mind. It’s there, but it’s not the biggest drawer of the bunch.

 

I guess I’m going to stop there. I don’t know what more I can put. I’ve said everything, honestly. I wanted to say all this and that I’m sorry to everyone. Please know that I am not usually so bad. Not so bitchy. Not so horrible. Not so bad. I mean I hope I’m not. I don’t think I am. God I hope I’m not. I just feel so much more worse in my head. In my emotions. In everything. I feel so fucking horrible. And I wish it could stop before I end up snapping like a twig at the wrong person. I can’t handle that right now. And I fear it’s going to happen at some point. I don’t know when, but it feels so thin.

 

So to everyone reading this and made it this far, I’m sorry. And thank you for reading. I appreciate so many of you and I feel like in the last few weeks, I’ve been nothing but rude and hot-blooded. And I wish I could stress enough how fucking horrible I feel about that and how unusual that is for me to be. Sure I have my bouts of extreme stress, depressive episodes, and over-stimulation. But nothing at all like I have been in the last almost four weeks.

 

So many of you mean a lot to me and have helped me in ways that I couldn’t thank enough. I wouldn’t have dreamed of. Those who have housed me, spent money on me for medications, who talked to me, took me out to hang out, bought me food . . . thank you. I love you guys so much, please know that. Please know that I love each of my friends for being there in general. Please know that I love my boyfriend who, at this point, I am baffled as to how he’s handling my intense shithead fuckery. Please know that I am sorry and I really hope that in time, all of this will settle again and my moods will be back to normal.

 

That hopefully soon, I can feel like myself again.

 

I’m sorry. And I truly hope that you know I mean it.

 

What Break?

And here I thought my reign of terror from 2016 was over. How wrong I was.

On April 20th, 2017 I found out that I had a mass (aka: tumor for all purposes) after getting an MRI done and finding out that a particular level in my blood work was 172. Normal was 10-14. Now I am off testosterone until further notice and on a pill that makes me nothing but weak, sick to my stomach, and unable to cope appropriately. I can barely eat a full meal, I’m always tired, traveling two days ago was hell, I can’t do any normal household chores without having problems, I can’t really do anything. And that fucking sucks more than anything. Because I always am on the move and I’m always finishing up projects, chores, writing, taking care of my cats, and everything else in between. Now I can barely pick up a coffee cup without feeling like I’m going to pass out or vomit.

The thing about cancer is . . . yeah, it sneaks up on you. You never thought it would be you. And after the first few days, you laugh it off. You just shrug at all your friends and your boyfriend and are like ‘yeah it happened I’ll be fine. We’ll get it figured out when we go back in June for a blood test again.’ But then everything gets to be too much for you. Everything starts to blur together. And being off T makes it worse. You’re more agitated, angry, frustrated, upset, and irritable. I think that’s worse. Because I look and act a bitch, when really I’m not trying to be. I don’t mean to be annoyed with everything I see or hear or think. I don’t mean to snap. I don’t mean to slam things. I don’t mean to be this way. But everything is so terribly out of balance and out of whack right now. I can’t function properly.

Everything is heightened and anchored down all at once. It’s a horrible feeling, it’s a shitty place to be. You don’t want everyone else to feel just as bad as you do, so you’re trying to fake your emotions but fuck it’s hard. Add all of this medical stuff on top of everything else I’m dealing with. I feel like a ticking bomb. I’m going to explode at some point.

Yeah, that’s right. There’s like 10 other things piled on top of this whole tumor situation. Medicaid shutting me out because of “gender mismatch” that i know have to try and get the birth certificate and letters done while out of state. Isn’t that just so fucking great? After having top surgery and everything, too. The legal system still wants to fuck with me. So now I have to deal with that too? How is that fair? Not to mention trying to get back home in time for a bullshit disability hearing . . . that I shouldn’t even have to do. Again. When the legal and healthcare system doesn’t believe you’re really disabled. So you have to go to court. On top of the 5 other things you’re dealing with.

Also fuck my “family”. They don’t exist anymore. I have no “family” by blood. They’ve erased me completely. Having planted my “sister’s” graduation party on my birthday on purpose. Telling everyone my “sister” is their only child and she says she’s the only child herself. It’s disgusting. It’s sickening. They’re all fucked up. They don’t know what “family” is. They have a very distorted and skewed version of that word. I know who my true family is. I know who loves me for me and will be there for me and has been in the last two years. When your child (or rather, not anymore) tells you they have a tumor or cancer, your fucking answer as a mother shouldn’t be so bland, blaming and “K”. That’s revolting.

So tack that on to the list. Thank fuck I have a wonderful therapist that I’m working with to move forward from their disgusting , toxic , and unhealthy life. I think that was the straw breaker I needed to push away from them for good.

I just wish I could get breaks. I’m already sick 24/7 all the time and can barely do the minimum. Now it’s worse. With medical stacked on top of personal, stacked on top of legal. It’s like I’m looking at a pile of manila folders that just keep getting more paperwork added to them when I’ve barely finished the first two papers. More just keeps on coming.

It’s not a far cry to say that what I’m feeling is normal, but I wish I couldn’t. Because I know it bothers everyone around me. And I know it annoys people when I message them 50 times a day or post stupid shit on Facebook or just generally act like a fucking dick. I wish I could stop it, like a flip of the switch. Instead the switch stays down and things just keep feeling and getting worse.

I honestly wish I didn’t have to take my meds. I wouldn’t if I had the choice. Because I hate the way it makes me feel and I hate how it doesn’t let me do a fucking thing. But I want to get back on my T. I don’t even care about anything else. It could kill me for all I care. That’s how far I’ve sunken. But again, that’s normal. That’s what cancer feels like. That’s what it sounds like. And that’s what it feels like. I didn’t think I could reach lower than rock bottom with my depression alone. Boy was I fucking wrong.

I’m grateful for my family. For Alex, for Dev, for Bobby, for Beta, for Sarah, for Rhi, and for literally everyone else at the Q whom I love and have been there for me more than anyone else in the last two years. But I feel like . . . I’m always too much. There’s always something with me and I’ve only known a handful of these people for a year (come June) and in that year alone so much up and down has happened. So much of the same shit. So many problems. So many annoyances. And this always happens. And then I always lose everyone. Because I’m too much to handle. I love everyone so much, but I’m afraid I’m going to be too much for them.

I won’t lie. I wish I could just throw away the meds and say “oops oh well guess I’ll get worse who cares?” but I can’t. Because I know that’s bad. I know we have to fix this. I know I’ll never get better or be able to get back on T if I don’t. And I know that pisses people off when I say that and say I don’t care and would rather just . . . be gone. But I want people to understand that it’s going to be my normal way of thinking right now.

There’s so much going on. I’m overwhelmed. And the fact that I have to keep up with shit while I’m out of state is so stressful. I don’t WANT to sit here and make 40 phone calls a day to figure out all this legal bull. It’s draining. And I can’t focus for more than five minutes on what’s going on and I can’t handle more manila folders stacking up. But I can’t wait until June to get anything done.

I just . . . . more than anything want people to understand why I’m feeling so fucked up and low. I know I can’t make them, but I want them to try at least. Or see what I’m saying and be like “Oh! That makes sense. I’m sorry.”
I just want to shut my brain off. For at least a day. But I can’t even have that. The only peace of mind I get is when I’m sleeping. You don’t think when you’re sleeping. You don’t see all your folders.

That is, not until you come back to the office the next day. And then you look at your stack of folders that just keeps growing.

Then you think to yourself: “Is it really worth it?”

Don’t Be Scared. It’s Normal.

I made a post on here a few weeks ago, announcing my top surgery day and how I felt surrounding it. It’s been almost a little over two weeks since said surgery day has happened and there’s still a lot of feeling around the whole thing.

Let me start off by saying that I read an article last night browsing on my Facebook from FTM Magazine that touched a bit on post surgery depression. Before surgery, I was experiencing pre surgery depression and anxiety. Of which were completely normal after speaking with a few brothers and friends about how I felt. I figured as much, honestly. Secondly let me state that the article in question (which I will link below this write-up) was totally accurate. It was a total  nail hit on the head , I won’t lie. It completely explained why I have been feeling so exhausted and bleh. I have also been super irritable feeling towards everyone (ie. housemates, friends, the cats, my boyfriend and so on . . .) and everything as of late. The constant on and off sleeping (it is 3:30am as I began writing this. I went to bed at 9PM and only slept up until about midnight.) Plus being under house arrest for the latter of the two weeks after March 9th makes a person want to yank their hair out. I’m not much for being a homebody most of the time. I like to go out and have my walks and socializing.

The thing with major surgery is that it takes a lot of of you, and I should know from experience. It is a huge tolling experience for a quite a while. Your body has to have time to heal from trauma, and with that comes a lot of other physical and also mental exhaustion. Add on the stress of life and things going on with me personally right now, pain medications, and not being able to sleep properly or comfortably. Well, you get my drift. It makes for a wonderful Misery Soup.

I’m happy I got my surgery, do not get me wrong. It’s something I worked very hard to get and took a lot of struggle for me to get here. I’m so glad it happened. I’m so glad for the people who helped me get here. I’m so happy with my loving support the day it came. True be it that I can’t show a lot of emotion right now for it what with between exhaustion, pain pills every six hours, and lots of stress and little to no sleep, I am very happy and thrilled to have gotten to this point in my journey of life.

When you read the article, it explained how this person felt the day before, of, and after their top surgery. All of which were 100% valid and 100% accurate with me as well. People came to me asking me if I was excited or I must be vibrating with happiness and honestly? I wasn’t. And that sounds so shitty to say, but it was a normal feeling. A lot of transfolks who come to with their surgery, even hours before it happens (like the article stated) feel the same exact way. I wasn’t alone and suddenly I didn’t feel like such a bad person for not exuberating pure rainbows and sparkles for this big event in my life. I almost felt like a hypocrite. After all the fight and tears and struggle, I should have been nothing but a shining example of excitement. But I wasn’t. Not until the IV went into my arm did I feel some small semblance of happiness and excitement along with anxiety and nerves. I’ve had 33 surgeries throughout my 25 years of life. And they all felt the same. Top surgery was no exception.

I know that after another two to three weeks of annoyance, I’ll start really feeling good. It’ll sink in more and more every time I look at myself and each time I see more healing throughout the rest of this year. But for right now, it’s okay. I can feel these things. I can feel nothing, in fact. I can be annoyed with the process and life. I can feel a little agitated and stir crazy. I can sleep for five hours, stay up the rest of the day and repeat the cycle for the time being. I can take my meds, I can cry, I can be irritable, I can just be for now. I try not to be, honestly, however. I don’t want to be in a bad mood, but it’s understandable I should hope. In 25 years having 33 surgeries and being in and out of hospitals and bad health problems, I know for a fact this is okay. It’s totally normal. Your body doesn’t know how to handle or process extreme trauma and life changes that comes with surgery and medical ordeals. It’s a lot to handle and process. It’s a lot for your body to rejuvenate.

So if you’re a transgender identifying person looking to get their surgery and are worried or scared about the post or even pre surgery depression/anxiety: it’s okay. It’s totally normal, it’s completely valid, and you are not a bad person for thinking or feeling the way that you are. Take it from someone who knows from several experiences with surgery and most recently, yes, with top surgery. Take it from several of other transfolks who had their surgery and went through the same thing.

It’s 100% normal. It’s 100% okay. And I’m proud of you for being you.

 

Article: https://ftmmagazine.com/post-op-depression/

It’s Gonna Be Bad Tonight

Tomorrow I will be having top surgery. This is a common procedure for most trans identifying persons and sometimes even some non binary people. And while I’m super excited and can’t wait to see what all of my years of struggle will finally unfold for me, it’s also . . . terrifying. There’s a lot of mixed emotions going on and no, I don’t mean bad. And I don’t say that because I’m going to ‘regret it.’ Anything big like that, you’re going to get a fuck ton of emotions coming at you. This is especially evident for me with my whole . . . lack of familial support and all.

I have fought for a long time in being who I am. And it took me even longer to get just shy of 22 hours away from surgery. The most major surgery I could ever hope to get in my freedom and in being myself. And it’s okay to have all of these feelings. It’s okay to feel like you’re on a roller coaster. That doesn’t mean you’re wanting to back out. It doesn’t mean you think you’re going to regret it. Anyone would feel this much range of emotions after fighting for so long and having the hard road I’ve been on. Especially if you also don’t have any immediate family support. I don’t know everyone’s story, but that doesn’t matter. Even if you do have the support, feeling those range of emotions is totally normal. And I just have to remind myself of this. And that it’s okay.

I’m excited. I’m beyond excited. But I’m also very stressed out and nervous. I mean, who isn’t with surgery? But with this big of a change, it’s ten fold. But I know once it’s all over and done and I’ve come that far across the line, I’ll feel better. Not immediately, no, but I will feel better.

I wish I had more support coming with me. I wish I had what I used to. I’m never going to stop saying that. I’ll eventually stop thinking that, sure. But nothing is going to change the fact that it’s not going to happen. I’m very grateful for my boyfriend coming tomorrow, yes, along with one other additional support. But it’s not the same as anyone else. Not the same as Them. And it never will be. And people understand that. The biggest point in my life and my transitioning and the people who should care about me the most no matter what will not be around. And that’s . . . that’s foreign to me. And even though I know everyone else is more of a family to me than They ever will be now, it’s still tough. I’m lucky to have them all. I love them all. They’ve all done more for me than I could ever hope in the last few years and the last year to be more recent. It’s just different. It’s . . . it’s upsetting. I won’t lie.

Today’s my last day with boobs. It is my last full day wearing a binder. And honestly, I’ve never been more relieved, scared, nervous, and excited in my life. Knowing the face of America today terrifies me as my surgery approaches. Knowing that if I’m ever around Them, taking my shirt off is going to be a whole new warhead path. Knowing that I could be at any moment in any kind of danger is nerve wrecking. Feeling how They are talking about or approaching tomorrow is sickening. There’s so much going on around me and in my head that it’s causing a flood of emotions. And again, that’s okay. I can’t celebrate as much as I’d have loved to. With people I thought maybe I would have made progress with. But I can celebrate with those who truly love , care , and accept me. I’m not a side show. I’m not something to pray about. I’m not a passing ‘fad’. I’m not changing my mind. I’ve come this far. I’m never going back.

I am who I am. And I have fought blood, sweat, tears, tooth, nail, legal systems, friends, people abroad, doctors, pharmacies, insurances, myself even, and hopping from living space to living space just to keep my sanity and stay away from Them permanently. I put my foot down a long time ago. It’s not coming up now.

Tomorrow is going to be the biggest day of my life. It’s going to be the most important day of my transitioning journey. And today is going to be one hell of a rollercoaster.

And that’s more than okay.