Getting somewhere

Well, I am making some progress on this confusing path through transition.

I don't want to say that "no matter what, I'm going to go through this." I want to be cautious. I may come to think that transitioning is not for me. There is no point going through hell if I don't want to arrive at the destination.

Still, that's not how I feel. I don't feel like a guy; I like it when someone refers to me as something else. Today, a girl at school said something to someone else along the lines of "all the guys do ...." . But she specified, "except for you of course ____."

Monday was a horrible, horrible day. It was the worst day I've had since that phone call from the doctor's office which outed me. The specifics don't really matter, it's more about how these events made me feel. Point form:

1. I dented my car(not majorly) in a single car accident involving entering a parking lot.
2. I ran over a squirrel 45 minutes later. (I obviously didn't get the combination of swerving and slowing down right)
3. I lacerated my leg an hour after that. That required stitches. I was doing something without the proper protection; I knew better.

What didn't help was that I had to be somewhere that evening and overnight. I would have preferred to sulk and be alone. But our entire class was having a bonding "retreat", so I couldn't leave after my leg accident. Any one of those things alone wouldn't have bothered me a huge amount, but it was just an entire mess that got me down.

The leg cuts were indeed fairly deep. I was basically forced to go to the hospital. I kept telling everybody that it was fine, but one woman insisted on giving me first aid, saying that she liked me and she didn't want anything bad happening to me. But she was panicking, worrying that she didn't know what she was doing. So she asked around if anyone knew first aid. This other girl (that I have a crush on, incidentally) had a certificate because she works with kids, so she said she would help me. She was really calm and professional. Then I was forced off to the hospital. But I wasn't allowed to drive myself; two people took me. Basically, this was all humiliating, getting all the attention. People were bringing me water and dessert.

So during the car ride there, I was crying half the way. Luckily I was in the back, so my colleagues didn't see me. Then at the hospital emergency room, I was allowed inside the ER to wait for a room to be available, so I was alone. I cried some more. Then when we got back, everybody made a big fuss. I did enjoy the two hugs I got, (one from the first aid girl I have a crush one) since it's been a long time since I've gotten a hug from somebody that I wasn't related to. But I'd come back to a dance party; the campfire had been canceled due to rain. Now, I don't dance. I don't mind "learning" a dance. Once, at a friend's wedding, we were taught certain square dances. That was really fun. But I just can't do "creative" things. I suppose that that could be explained as "learned helplessness" meaning that I've decided that I can't be creative so I won't try. I got C's and C-'s in middle school art class. So basically I refuse to dance, since it isn't something that I can be taught. I wish that could change. Perhaps one day.

Anyways, yesterday I saw my GP. He'd gotten the letter from my psychologist. He gave me a prescription for a "mild" anti-depressant and a low dose of spironolactone. He is also referring me to a nearby endocrinologist who has trans-experience; I think he wanted the endo to deal with the hormone stuff. I was once again impressed that he treated me just like another patient with a more mundane problem.

So yay, I'm getting drugs. I will get a stronger dose of spiro, see how that makes me feel, then consider estrogen.