Visibility and Vulnerability.

You are stupid. 

You are disgusting.  

You are a joke of a parent.  

You will grow up and amount to nothing…just like your father. 

No one likes you.  Everyone is just faking to prevent you from feeling bad.  

You will make an ugly woman. 

You are a fraud.  

You are a fag.  

You are dead after school.  

You are an embarrassment.  

You could have done better.  

I hate you.  

You are not worthy of my respect.  

You deserve to be alone during holidays.  

You are selfish. 

You don’t care about others. 

Words hurt.  Words have a way of shaping our identity both physically and emotionally..   

Pastors, co-workers, parents, classmates, family, and even ones who had vowed to love regardless.   This is part of what I grew up with for almost forty years of my life.   This was my world.  Home. Church. School..  It was constantly the same.  If there was someone to make fun of or to beat up, I was there.  

I hated myself.  I called myself stupid. I believed what people told me. I tormented myself and would constantly belittle myself in front of others. I would shy away from relationships because of what others told me..about me. I grew up into an individual who would do anything to tear myself down. I became the queen of self-deprecating humor.

With all this backstory, I return you to current time.   (Insert Waynes World flashback sequence)

Four months ago, I was sitting in my surgeon’s examination room, feet up in the stirrups, tears running down my face. 

“Excuse me?!?”, I reply as I defend myself against being told I have some type of mental illness.  

Feet up in the stirrups, locked in a bitter discussion, what was supposed to be a six month surgical review turned into raised voices, a surgeon storming out of the examination room, and a sobbing patient, who STILL had her feet up in the stirrups.  (I think you get the visual image).  

We were battling back and forth over my level of frustration regarding how little the doctor actually communicates.    I had told her I was the type of person when approached on a Friday and told “I need to talk to you on Monday”, my brain will start to non-stop analyze every possible outcome and reason for this meeting.   It will literally consume me.  

I like details.  I like information.  The more information I can gather, the more I can learn about a subject, which then helps me have a better level of comprehension when the surgeon explains (or in this case doesn’t explain) what is going on.  

I will be honest, parts of my anxiety stem from a lack of trust.  Not completely trusting a surgeon, combined with a lack of answers, fueled by unresolved questions, leaves for quite the mental and emotional mess….and it couldn’t have happened at a worse time….right before Beth and I were to go away for our anniversary.  

ASIDE. 

Beth, I want to say thank you for putting up with me that weekend.  I apologize for letting this whole situation consume me and ruin our weekend.   I did enjoy the light show parade.  *grin*

During this heated conversation, the surgeon flat out says to me, 

“You need to see someone about your mental condition.”

*crickets*

If I told you this was the backdrop to what could possibly be one of the biggest changes… ..in my life, I can only imagine you being in a rather defiant state of disbelief.  

These words haunted me all weekend and right into my already scheduled appointment with my primary physician.  

Not being able to keep in in any longer, I went over with the Doctor the events of the Friday before, the argument, the tears..and the stirrups (I am not going to let this go quietly).

I looked the Doctor in the eye and asked her if I truly did have some sort of mental illness.    Her answer shocked me, but also confirmed what I was beginning to surmise.  

After a long pause, my doctor says she can see acute anxiety, coupled with a form of OCD (I actually laughed at first).  

“How?”  “Why?” 

Over time, just like plaque, mental, verbal and emotional abuse take their toll on a person. I learned first hand about PTSD and how it can destroy a person from the inside.

The doctor prescribed me Zoloft.  I will admit to adamantly refusing to take it.   Ugh.  More medication to take.   When I suggested weed, I got the all too familar skunk-eye. (This is my doctor’s go to reaction whenever I bring up weed..LOL)

As the Zoloft was working it’s way through my body (the adjustment period SUUUUUCKED).  It was like one thing happened after another..  

In January, I hit the bottom and shut down.  Something happened to someone close to me which left me feeling as if I would spent the rest of my life dealing with my post-surgical complications and truly never being able to receive the additional care I need.  It was hard.  I felt worthless and, no matter how far I had come, the remaining distance seemed unsurpassable.  

I spent quite a bit of time in total silence.  The less interactions I had with people, the less I could hurt.    Admitting you are broken hurts and makes you feel worthless.  Why is it so hard to admit you are broken?  I thought I had become quite accustomed to the whole concept of change, but this was totally different.  

Somewhere in this process, I met myself for the first time.   I thought I went through all of this during my transition, but this was different.  I couldn’t explain it.  

The Zoloft kicked in.   Whoa.  That explains it.

The only way I can properly explain how Zoloft has affected me is by using this illustration. 

IMAGINE WALKING INTO A ROOM AND BEING ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS OVER THE MESS LEFT BY THE PRIOR PERSON….ONLY TO FIND OUT YOU WERE THE FORMER PERSON.    

I mean it.. a mess.   I have spent countless hours purging and organizing and catching up on things I was just too frantic to give any time and attention to.   I have noticed a difference even when brushing my teeth. My teeth!!! Just yesterday I was absolutely happy just to sweep out the garage and get it ready for spring. I can now sense with my anxiety starts to “rev up” inside of me. I am seeing how I where I was once “a whirlwind of confusion” now is more like peace and order and solace.

I don’t know how this all happened.  I didn’t think it was possible to feel…

Normal.   

After 47 years, I am beginning to understand.  

I see myself differently now.  I still have a problem looking in the mirror and seeing the partial image of the former person.  I see the saggy skin and protruding brow.  I look forward to the day when I will finally be complete, but until then I choose to be happy for today.  

Speaking of today, it’s Transgender Day of Visibility.  It’s a day to stand up and been seen.  To show others we are here, and our lives have intrinsic value and meaning.  A part of being visible is being honest with ourselves and to each other. It’s one thing to be seen, but to open yourself and your experiences allow others to “walk in our shoes”…or heels. Vunerability 101.

I will admit to being in hiding and far from visible.   I will also admit the hiding and solace has been really good for me.  I have been able to establish a base within myself and use it to keep my own mental outlook on an even keel.  I will not let the negative thoughts consume me and I will make time to allow the quiet moments to give me balance. Oh.. it’s nice having less shit cluttering my life.

The cover photo to this article was taken in my office. I had the lyrics to a song printed out to server as my reminder…

There is beauty in each and every one of us…even on our worst days. 

In closing, I leave with you the words of St. Rogers of the Burgh.  

“I don’t think anyone can grow unless they are  loved exactly as they  are now, appreciated for who they are rather than what they will be.” 

You ARE beautiful.  

So goddamn beautiful.  

“Beautiful” – Betty Who

Looking in the mirror
Staring at my enemy
Every day’s a battle
With the girl in front of me

I tell her that she’s perfect
But she’s no good at listening
Some days, it’s hard to love her
She never makes it easy, yeah

Those days, I just wanna say to her
“Girl, don’t you know that-

“On your worst day, you’re still beautiful?
So goddamn beautiful
It’s a feeling that you can’t let go
Yes, you’re so beautiful”

Aren’t you gettin’ tired, yeah
Of hiding who you’re meant to be?
Baby, what you don’t know
Is you got everything you need

One day, someone’s gonna say to you
“Hey, don’t you know that-

“On your worst day, you’re still beautiful?
So goddamn beautiful
It’s a feeling that you can’t let go
Yes, you’re so beautiful (You’re so beautiful)
When I look into your eyes, I know
Yes, love can make you whole
Now you’re feeling it and watch it grow
Yes, you’re so beautiful”

Do you feel beautiful? (Hell yeah)
‘Cause you look beautiful tonight
Just feel it in your soul (Hell yeah)
‘Cause you are beautiful (Ay, ay, ay)
Do you feel beautiful? (Hell yeah)
‘Cause you look beautiful tonight
Just feel it in your soul (Hell yeah)
‘Cause you are beautiful (Ay, ay, ay)

On your worst day, you’re still beautiful
So goddamn beautiful
It’s a feeling that you can’t let go
Yes, you’re so beautiful (You’re so beautiful)
When I look into your eyes, I know
Yes, love can make you whole
Now you’re feeling it, and watch it grow
Yes, you’re so beautiful

Do you feel beautiful? (Hell yeah)
‘Cause you look beautiful tonight
Just feel it in your soul (Hell yeah)
‘Cause you are beautiful (Ay, ay, ay)
Do you feel beautiful? (Hell yeah)
‘Cause you look beautiful tonight
Just feel it in your soul (Hell yeah)
‘Cause you are beautiful…