Another Day, Another Therapist, Another Diagnosis

While I really like the the therapist I have been seeing through my company’s Employee Assistance Program, our time s coming to an end, and she sadly don’t except my insurance, so the search begins anew. I met with a new therapist today. I think this may work out well, she was nice, well versed in transgender issues, and easy to talk to. She did mention the possibility of a new diagnosis:

Unipolar Major Depressive Disorder with Psychotic Features.

Wow, that is a mouthful.

The Next Big Civil Rights Battle

Three days ago the United States Supreme Court handed down a ruling affirming that a person’s right to marry whomever they love is a right protected by Section 1 of the 14th Amendment to the United States Constitution which states:

All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

Starting with the Stonewall Riots on June 28, 1969, when I was just seven months old, until this week’s landmark decision by the Supreme Court, the battle for equality has been a slow steady march nearly five decades in the making. This fight has been going on for literally my entire life, yet it is something that deep down inside I thought I would never live to see.

While this is a huge victory for the LGBT community, the “T” part of the community continues to be ostracized and marginalized. Celebrities like Chaz Bono, Laverne Cox, Janet Mock, and Caitlyn Jenner are starting to draw attention to the struggle of transgender people, but it is not enough. The statistics are alarming… one survey conducted by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law reported that 41% of transgender people have reported attempting suicide at some point in their lives.

Forty-one percent.

As alarming as that number is, I am almost certain that the actual rate is much, much higher. I am a transgender woman, and conversations I have had with other transgender people indicate that up to 80% had attempted suicide. Granted, I have an extremely small sample size and my evidence is purely anecdotal, but it is a major indicator that things are NOT ok in the transgender community. Governments are trying to pass laws that prohibit transgender people from doing simple everyday things like using a restroom.

John Oliver commented on the restroom situation and many other things that effect transgender people on his show Last Week Tonight. It is the most logical, well reasoned, discussion from a Cis person (the Latin prefix Cis- on the same side is the opposite of trans- on the other side) I have ever seen.


I went outside today for the first time in five days. The trash was starting to smell, so I had to put it out. I didn’t like being outside, I could feel my heart beating in my throat and the sweat starting to form on my forehead. I have five more days before I have to go back to work, I don’t know how I am going to do it.

Fifteen Pills


Fifteen pills…

It’s all that stands between me and the voices.

Fifteen pills…

It’s all that stands between me and a razor blade.

Fifteen pills…

It’s all that stands between me and hospitalization.

Fifteen pills…

It’s all that stands between me and suicide.

Every single day I take fifteen pills just to keep myself alive. While the suicidal thoughts, the urge to self harm, and the voices have subsided for the time being I live in constant fear that they will come back and be worse than ever before. I fear that the symptoms will increase in severity and I will need to take even more medication every day.

Fifteen pills…

It’s all that stands between me and reason.

Fifteen pills…

It’s all that stands between me and a functional memory.

Fifteen pills…

It’s all that stands between me and staying awake for more than three hours at a time.

Fifteen pills….

It’s all that stands between me and usable fine motor skills.

Every single day I take fifteen pills just to keep myself alive. The side effects are brutal. I’m losing cognitive ¬†function, problems that would have taken mere seconds to solve in the past now take minutes or are sometimes unsolvable. My memory is terrible. Four years ago I made it through college with taking less than two pages of notes during my entire program, and I graduated with highest honors. Today, I can’t even remember the name of the movie I watched yesterday. The drowsiness associated with the medication I take is unbearable. It is almost impossible to get through the day without taking a couple of long naps. While I never had great motor skills, what I did have is in serious decline. Everyday things like chopping vegetables are out of the question, I can’t hold a pen, much less a knife.

Fifteen pills…

It’s all that stands between living and dying.

Without A Net

I had a very bad day today. My anxiety was through the roof and the voices are back. My back pain is becoming unbearable; I have shooting pains down my legs and have almost no feeling in two fingers on my left hand. In another time and place I would have gotten drunk or high. Instead I tried going to a meeting. I went to the meeting place at the time listed on the local Narcotics Anonymous website. There was no one there. I waited five, ten, fifteen minutes after the posted meeting time and still no one showed up.

I’m on the edge. I feel like I’m falling and there’s no net.

Time For The Big Reveal?

I work in a call center and we have a plethora of statistics and goals that need to be met. The fiscal month is coming to a close and my statistics have improved substantially. Last month I was close to being fired, this month I am close to being number one in the call center.

I am waiting for my supervisor to ask how I made such a dramatic improvement in such a short amount of time. While the safe and politically correct response would be to say that I am feeling better than I have in the last few months. I really want to tell the full story though. I am trying to imagine what her reaction would be if I replied “I am on new medication and am not hearing voices as often as I used too”

It’s so so tempting.

A Revelation That Came Far Too Late

I was texting with a friend (ex wife #1) last night and she told me that her brother-in-law committed suicide by hanging earlier in the day. I asked the questions that seemed appropriate, who found him, if he had children and so forth. She told me that the he had a 5 year old child that was very attached. I commented on how awful it would be for the child…

Then I broke down crying hysterically for 45 minutes.

My most recent suicide attempt was by hanging. My ex-boyfriend has a daughter that was 5 years old and that was very attached to me, so much so call me mom.

I finally realized why the ex-bf was so pissed at me. Over a year later he still refuses to speak to me, or let me speak to his daughter. If I had been successful, that sweet little girl would have been devastated. My actions would have hurt the person whom I loved the most on this planet.

I’m crying right now as I type this.