Thursday, May 8, 2008

Just Before Mother's Day

To those of you who were wondering what happened to my upcoming post, regarding starting the hormones, I haven't started them yet. I managed to get my vehicle stuck in a ditch a few feet from my house. The vehicle is fine, and so am I, and the appointment is now re-scheduled for the 15th.

That was initially all this post was going to be about, so people knew I was okay. As the truck was being towed out of the ditch, mom told me to hold off on scheduling an appointment so that she could make one with a local therapist to have me diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, as her therapist had told her that she knows for sure there are local housing arrangements for people with Asperger's syndrome. Even before what ended up happening it sounded fishy to both of us, I've already been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome before, and Such housing arrangements sounded too good to be true.

The day came when I was to be re-diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, and it had already begun foul though nothing out of the ordinary. Mom was not feeling well, on account of her back problems, and as usual, I hadn't gotten very much sleep, as I've been having difficulties sleeping at night, and difficulties staying awake all day for quite some time now.
So we arrive, both of us in pain and foul moods, and I fill out their paperwork. My mood is particularly foul since I was the most suspicious of this and felt that it would turn out to be a waste of time.

I was right... Kind of.

The therapist I ended up seeing had a lot of experience dealing with people with Asperger's, and had some relative understanding of my Transsexuality too. He told me early on he didn't understand the purpose of this visit, as I already had been diagnosed with Asperger's and he didn't understand what we needed him for. I talked with him a bit and he asked me questions about how I felt about Asperger's and Transsexuality. He understood very well how I felt overwhelmed by trying to overcome both at the same time and seemed to honestly care about my plight as a woman and not as a troubled boy with an identity crisis.

And thus hell broke loose.

He called my mom in, though I felt uneasy about this whole thing, and tried to lay it on her: That his knowledge of my condition sounds like the same idea as the ones who are treating me further away, a condition I was born with that I can no more choose than Asperger's... (mom had made an ignorant comment asking "I don't understand, at the clinic they say anyone who wants to be transgender can be transgender, don't they?") My mom became furious with me, blaming me for everything he said.
The rest of the day Mom was silent. All I remember thinking was, If you don't believe a word he said, then nothings changed except that you get a small glimpse of the hopelessness that I live with... How is it my fault that he agrees with me... I didn't do anything to you. She refused to talk to me the rest of the day, I said hi to her as she walked by me and she ignored me. She went to bed without saying goodnight. I guess because the doctor agreed with me, I no longer deserve her good nights. The hardest part of the day, was one particular moment, where she was walking to get water... limping slowly her back still giving her pain, an exhausted defeated look on her face staring blankly ahead of her barely watching where she was going. I felt a dark guilt creep up inside me and it's moments like these, where I forget how angry I am at her, I forget how much fighting we've done, I remember that she's my mother and I love her... These moments are the ones that hurt the most.


Anonymous said...

Thanks for the update, hon. Sorry things are not going well. I hope that somehow you can send things in a more positive direction, but I know that much of this isn't under your control. Virtual hugs!

Samantha Shanti said...

You know, I know just how bad you feel. How much this all hurts. My Mom was a peach about my news, and she fully supported me being me every chance she could.

When I was growing up, for a while, I was Dad's little girl. It was never spoken, never said, and he most certainly didn't want to deal with it. When I came out and asked, begged to be taken to the doctor so that I could be normal, he freaked. Beat the crap out of me, forced me into one of my sisters dresses and verbally and physically abused me until I wanted to die. I was five. Yup, five years old.

For the next dozen years he spent most every chance he got beating me, abusing me, and trying to toughen me up and turn me into a real man. He finally threw me out of the house when I was 17 because he was an asshole and refused to accept help from his faggot child who thought life was easier than it really was according to him. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out, and don't expect to come crawling back here when you find out you were wrong." Those were the final words I ever heard out of him, the last time I ever saw him, and I set about proving what a complete asshat he was.

He died in '03, a lonely, bitter wretch because he was so self involved that he wouldn't let anyone near him or into his life. Me, I'm two years post op, and finally happy like I've never been in my life, even with everything else going on.

Something else to keep in mind, there is a school of thought that indicates a link between Asperger's and GID. IN fact over on Callieland, there are several women who've talked about it, and have to deal with it in their lives. It is also quite possible that you may not even have Asperger's, there is a school of thought that says the oppression and repression we deal with mimic it, and with transition, it fades over time.

In my own experience, I was so utterly shut off from the world that many people thought I was... Actually were certain I was an alien... My parents had me in and out of doctors and pshrinks offices for decades, they though I might have it as well. I had so many of the classic symptoms, but there was nothing certain.

Now, post transition, I'm about sa far from Asperger's as any one woman can get. When I look back over my life pre-transition, I can see the connection between the steps I took to repress my nature and how it might seem that I was so apparently broken.

So I guess what I'm saying is, give yourself time to grow and find your own way without letting the world control you. The hardest lesson I've had to learn is how important for me to worry about my own health, happiness and welfare before everyone elses. That I couldn't allow the world and people around me to control my life.

I'm sorry your Mom is in pain, but it is not your fault. Plus the bullshit and pain she's wallowing in is only making her back worse. So, it is her own fault. Stress and depression makes pain worse, holding in pain based on your (her) own narrow minded misconceptions is going to make it so much worse. She's either going to get over it, or in the case of my Dad, not until after she passes.

I know that's hard to hear, and it doesn't make the comming days, weeks, months or years any easier. Eventaully you'll look back and realize the only one you ever really "hurt" wasn't the people you thought you did... By then however you'll be in much, much better shape. You'll be a happier, healthier, more well adjusted woman living life and marveling at how far you've come. You might also find yourself looking back and not really "understanding" or able to relate to what you're feeling now.

I hope this makes more than a cup of sense? If there is anything I can help with, let me know, please don't feel so utterly alone. Speaking of which, thanks to Karyn's insight, I fixed the mail link on my blog. So if you want to write, be my guest, the link actually works now! Woot!