kill me now

Jesus fucking Christ I'm sick of my life.

Nothing is going right and I don't know "what I want to do with my life."

A year ago, I told my doctor that I thought I was trans. I never ending up starting therapy, mostly because of my fears. (Oh, and I'm fucking lazy, too)

So nothing has come of that.

A year ago, I finished a university degree. It doesn't seem like I'm any closer to getting into a teaching program.

Plus, now I'm beginning to feel that maybe I don't want to be a teacher. Goddamn it, life is complicated.

I still feel just as trans, if that's what that is. Fuck. How am I supposed to know anything?

I never used to understand what the point of a suicide attempt was. I mean, if you want to die, just kill yourself already, instead of a half-hearted attempt. I'm talking about methods that are less likely to be successful, like cutting on wrists, swallowing a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers, etc. Why not do something irreversible if you really want to die? Like hang yourself or jump off a tall building?

But people say that those kinds of suicide attempts are a cry for help. And now I understand that that's what it is, even if the attemptee doesn't know that. I think that people would do that because they want some help. See, if somebody wants help/attention, if they ask for it, they won't be taken seriously, or they worry that they won't be. But it's harder to ignore hospitalisation.

To anyone reading this: please don't worry. I haven't killed myself yet and I've had suicidal thoughts for at least ten years. So don't try to track down my IP or anything. I'd appreciate suggestions instead, or comments.

ok, gtg

update

Well, it's been quite a while since I've posted here. Sorry. I occasionally think of doing so, yet end up not doing it.

No, I'm not doing any therapy. Why not? I should be. The excuse that I'm giving myself is that I don't want to create marital debate about my "problem." Is it a valid concern? I'm not sure, but I certainly can't go to therapy without my wife knowing about it; we generally know what the other is doing. I'd have to somehow arrange therapy without giving out our telephone number, then tell her that I was going. I'm afraid that she'd be really upset.

Is the above cowardly? Probably. I do not like confrontation. Is it just an excuse to avoid doing anything productive or "useful" about my feelings? I don't know.

My feelings have evolved somewhat, I guess. I haven't read any trans-related blogs or websites for months. Generally most of them are written or intended for people who are transitioning, or planning on it.

lazy point form stuff:
-my facial hair disgusts me, even more than it did before. I shave it along with my chest, armpits, groin, and legs in the the shower. I'd exchange my two-year old car for the quarter century old car I used to own to get it removed. Obviously, selling my car would easily pay for complete facial hair removal. My wife thinks that stubble is sexy, so it wouldn't go over well.
-I feel most sexy putting on pants on legs that have just been shaved and moisturised.
-I still think about it while entering a gendered washroom.
-I'm used to avoiding referring to myself in a gendered way. I don't really have to think about it much. It's really easy for me to say "I'm a ____ kind of person" in a circumstance when I could have said, "I'm a ____ kind of guy." I hardly ever slip up.
-I'm still attracted mostly to women.

There are some changes, though. Instead of just being jealous of cute twenty-something girls, I'm occasionally jealous of less attractive women. A couple months ago, I was very far away from home on vacation, far from anybody that I knew. I was walking in a downtown, and I saw a woman greet a couple that she obviously knew. She was in her forties or fifties, too skinny, and with grey stringy hair. And I was jealous, because she was a woman.

I have to consider the possibility that transition is not for me. I don't want to end up a transwoman with a penis that can't pass, split up from my spouse, and with friends and family that won't talk to me. That concerns me. Yet I'm not comfortable as I am. I'm still not sure what I should do.

Sigh.

Update

I was asked to write an update by somebody I don't really know.

That's ok. It forced me to "take another baby step." I emailed back somebody from the Trans Health program asking about the procedures for getting therapy. The trans programs in Vancouver seem to be constantly changing names and what they do. So my doctor's referral letter went to fax heaven. I left a voicemail somewhere a month later and got one call back to my home number, and not to my cell number which I had also left on voicemail. Then I sent two emails to an email address which I had taken from some pamphlets. Finally, I found an email of a real live person from the program.

That last paragraph is misleading. It makes it seem like I've been aggressively pursuing this. I haven't really. I wait weeks in between phone calls or emails. Why? I'm afraid. I love my marriage. I don't want to lose it.

My "trans feelings" (wow that's an awkward phrase) haven't dissipated. I still think about them every day. Every time I need to go to a public washroom I look at the signs on both doors and wonder. Every time I see a pretty woman I'm jealous of her body and wonder if I like her clothes.

On the home front, we simply don't talk about it. This is simultaneously a good thing and a bad thing. It's good because it keeps things civil, with no crying or drama. Yet it is bad because we aren't discussing it as a couple. My wife is never going to accept or tolerate my transness(yes, I know that isn't a word) if we ignore it. I think it wouldn't be difficult to do that, to just ignore everything. But the way my newly discovered feelings and desires haven't changed suggests to me that I shouldn't ignore them. I still get called "daddy" which bothers me. But then we just went to a wedding and my wife asked me what I thought of the dress. We discussed it, and I even noticed that there was a train at the ceremony yet none at the reception. (perhaps it detached?) I wonder if my dear wife was thinking when she asked me about it. I started shaving my armpits in January after my last post. She asked why, and I said it looks nicer. I still do it.

Therapy is next. I think it is very important. I'm not able to figure out why I feel the way I do on my own.