meegosh

So today I walked into town to see my bank. HBSC. They were awesome about it. The staff not only professional but friendly. The woman who actually completed their paperwork with me in a way that was not only friendly but very respectful. We chatted about picking names, fitting names on forms and the uselessness of the NHS to get anything done quickly. She also offered, without me needing to ask, to change my gender marker because she "presume that's the way that you're heading". For a small branch in a small town I was very happy with the way it was dealt with and how the staff communicated with me.

And hey - I have my name changed with somewhere, and my gender. And my new card and cheque book is on its way to me.

Just figuring out Part 2 now. Changing stuff with work. But that comes on Thursday.

My father is supportive. My step-father is having to repeatedly correct my mother. But he's turned into a brilliant ally because he doesn't slip with name/pronouns/etc and makes sure that I'm not the one continually correcting my mother. My hair, after being chopped off a couple of weeks ago, is growing into a more comfortable shape. It could do with growing out some more than then going to the hairdressers to actually shape it properly. Next week is my one-to-one at work and I'm trying not to chicken out of coming out to work but am now beginning to think seriously about the steps I want work to take and the timeframe for them. I know that if presented with things I need from work, my manager will respond by making sure that stuff happens. He's good like that.

And I'm still waiting for an appointment from the clinic. I have some time off this next week so I will phone the clinic to chase. My mood is better than it was but since I'm going to start the whole real life/full time stuff soon I'd like to know that I will be getting that long promised support sooner rather than later. I'm getting really twitchy about it again. And when I say twitchy - I mean obsessive.

But good news to round everything off. I have in the last week signed my deedpoll. Need to send it back for my legal copies. But in the mean time I might use some time off work to walk round to places to get my name changed on some stuff before the legal copies. And I think I've decided that I don't need to change the picture on my driving licence.

He took it fairly well. Although I was a chicken and my sister had to start telling him. Yes all thing considered I think he took the news very well. He's taken it on board very quickly. We'll see what happens.

On a side note, I think my sister wants me to be her daughter's godfather, but is a bit worried about whether the church will accept me as a godfather. I love cuddles with my niece. I cuddle her and I am Uncle Bug. And it's so much nicer than being auntie.

So it's been more than 2 months since I had an appointment/stuff was put together for my re-referal but only 3 weeks since the referal was actually sent on to the PCT.

Yes I had a breakdown a couple of weeks ago when I learnt that I had waited more than a month and my referal had only just been sent on. But whilst I had that breakdown I decided not to wait for the NHS in order to transition. I have told a manager at work, I have paid for (and am waiting on the post on this one) my deedpoll. I am taking practical steps towards living full time. I am not waiting for the NHS. And the last couple of weeks have been easier than the weeks before, I haven't mentally counted each and every single day from appointment to decision.

However I am back to counting again. Taking the timeframe I was originally advised of - 3 or 4 weeks and counting from when I know the referral was sent on to the PCT. And I have even calculated how that timeframe has been affected by the bank holidays (because 4 weeks is 20 working days, so I have to exclude the bank holidays). Not that I've been thinking about this much. It'll happen, it's just annoying having to wait (expect another breakdown should things get delayed AGAIN).

The subject line says it all really. So really I'm just whining. On the bright side I just realised that it's been more than 11 working days. I expect it to take 15-20, so I might hear something by the end of next week.

I HATE this wait!!!!

It sucks being trans, it sucks still having to wait for a decision on whether my assessment can be funded, it sucks that my mental health is being affected by the wait, it sucks that my career is kind of on hold waiting for my mental health to improve.

Of course I'm focusing on the positives in my life and the fact that things will get better - but for the moment I can't shake the fact that dysphoria sucks and that I'm in a not great place.

I want to get on with my life but it feels like there's endless hold-ups. The NHS, waiting for my manager to get back from leave, waiting now a month until I have a one-to-one scheduled with my manager so that I can come out. My skin crawls every time a customer at work repeats my feminine name back to me and annoys me that of course they have no idea how hearing it affects me. I want to get on with my life but it feels like the universe doesn't want me to. I know things will get better, but the waiting? that just plain sucks. (I know that I'm lucky that things will get better, don't think for one moment I don't realise that)

The one who used to help keep me sane/make me laugh/etc who left our work place back in about nov time. Her response? She had kind of guessed already based on how I had been for months before she left. In case anyone is wondering - yes there are awesome cis folk out there.

Before I started on the anti-depressants I kind of said that if my funding application got turned down by the PCT again that I would have a breakdown. I was so close to it then that I knew that I couldn't handle the disappointment. Only because I knew that I could apply again or appeal, really the disappointment was having to wait even longer. And so that letter the other day has done it. I'm having a breakdown again. Thank the gods I have supportive managers around me at work.

Two days in a row I have got just passed lunchtime and just hit a mental brickwall where I could do no more work. Walking out of work today I ended up sitting out on the grass and sobbed for about half an hour. And then just ambled off for a walk for an hour. This is never a good sign because I've done stuff like that at the height of stuff in the past. I walk off because I decide I can't go the direction I should be going, decide I can't face turning back. And well, in the past that's meant ending up 5 miles away before I could face heading back. It's not like going for a walk to clear the cobwebs or anything, I'm always going somewhere and decide that I can't possibly actually go in that direction. But it was productive because it allowed me to actually feel what I've been feeling and not just push it aside for the sake of functioning.

And I've been feeling detached from myself. I'm grieving something. I feel invalidated and trapped.

And I don't think just talking about it is going to help. Being detached from myself is part of hiding myself. What I'm grieving is the life I still can';t have and I feel invalidated because I let people use female pronouns and terms for me. And I feel trapped because I've been letting myself wait for the NHS when really, I couldn't give a feck and can't wait for their timetable.

I want to completely shed female me outside of work. I need to sit down and write that letter to my father. I need to lay down for my mother that she has to stop referring to me as her daughter. And I need this time away from work, and from customers calling me "miss". I need to walk the walk now and stop dabbling. I need to stop playing and start living the life I need to live. And I can't wait for the NHS in order to do so. I need to bite the bullet. Work will have to wait because my manager is on leave and he is the next person for me to speak to in order to make things happen there.

I would go to pride this weekend but I fear getting mistaken for a butch lesbian. And I need a bit more headspace. Am due to meet up with an online friend for lunch sunday so I have some potential for positive there. I'm not going with boyfriend to meet up with a group of people we know this weekend because I can't cope with the invalidation of my identity I'll get.

This is it. I draw the line. Female me is no more, even if I have to play the role for a bit longer, and the proper me is born.

This has generally been on my mind recently. Mostly because I know I have to work myself towards coming out to my dad.

First of all, I think it's something that only happens when you're ready. Coming out to ex-team leader was something I tried to do weeks back and I couldn't get the words out. Last week - they came easily. The time was right. I think it was right when I told my sisters and my mum too. I think part of the reason I haven't told my dad yet because the time isn't right. I think it's difficult to underestimate getting the time right.

Second of all. My dad has his own mental health problems and I realise now that I've spent years trying to avoid overburdening him or distressing him. This is difficult and something that I'm only just beginning to grapple with. I think figuring this out will help me get to above but I haven't figured out exactly how I'm going to make thing something positive enough. I mean, transition will be a positive move forward for me, but there's everything else that goes with this need to transition. I don't know, I'm sure other trans folk will understand what I'm getting but perhaps that will be less clear for cis folk. Plus my father knows and understands enough to know that gender identity disorder is something that is inheritantly distressing. I need to keep working through this until I reach an answer.

This will be delayed/affected by real life at the moment. Including needing to pack up and move house again.

My family are no longer willing to out me to him. My sister has offered to help me tell my step mum. I have to say that I am losing interest though. I want to just go home and get on with my transition.

I am really knackered from lack of rest this weekend. Trying to grab some now. I learnt from my sister that I am having panic attacks in my sleep. Or what my sister described as being very distressed in my sleep. And certainly when I remember my dreams they are often distressed. Yeah I know, all these panic attacks serve to remind me that my mental health problems aren't solved by the anti-depressants, as much as they've helped my mood/helped me cope.

I'm feeling the need to curl back up in isolation again. I'm ready to return home and get cracking at work again. Just need some more rest first.