How do I know if a name is right for me?
Posted: April 29, 2015 Filed under: coming out, name change | Tags: androgynous, coming out, gender, gender identity, genderqueer, lgbtq, names, non-binary, preferred names, queer, trans, transgender 27 CommentsThe number one piece of advice I would give someone who isn’t 100% yet about a potential new name: try it out in a controlled setting where you are surrounded by strangers (if possible). If it’s a temporary setting, even better.
I’m the type of person who isn’t going to go with something till I’m really really sure. Other people might be fine with trying a name amongst friends and then switching it at a later date, or trying out a few names with a few people all at the same time. These people can disregard my advice!
Sometimes finding a new name is more of an ordeal. It has been for me at least – I’ve been considering new names for many many years. What could be a fun and creative process might end up feeling like a never-ending search for a perfect fit. About a year ago, I wrote a post on finding a new name. I thought I had it! I was pretty excited about it!
It is here: Ruling With Elf Wisdom
I started using my new name at my new doctor’s office, and then I made no further progress after that. Something was off, but I assumed it was just that it would take some getting used to. Now, a year later, I can easily say it just wasn’t the right name for me. (And/or I just wasn’t ready.) It looked good on paper. It sounded good in my head. However, it sounded strange, for me, in the real world. When a nurse called me back from the waiting room, it just did not feel right. Lots of other blog writers have addressed this too:
A few years ago, Micah wrote about how he had an online presence as “Maddox,” which he thought fit well until he started trying out the name at a conference. It is here: Misnomer
Jamie Ray wrote about their process of over-thinking a name until one just came to them, through a Starbucks barista hearing their legal name wrong. It is here: The Name Game
I started thinking about names again a couple of months ago, once I really started to accept that the name I thought I might go with, “Avery” was not a good fit. I wanted an androgynous name, and I felt like I’d heard them all (and I might have, with all the time I spent searching names online). It wasn’t until I had a conversation (not the first) with my partner (at a Starbucks, coincidentally), that a name I had glossed over many times before suddenly popped out more. “Kameron.” I like it because it’s more of a masculine name than a feminine name. I like it because it’s close to my legal name. I like it because Cameron is the name of the first trans-guy I met in real life (the first trans-guy I knew to be trans anyway).
I just feel more sure this time. It’s not really explainable – it’s just a feeling. So far I’ve told a handful of friends, my mom, my partner’s mom, and the partial hospitalization program I am currently attending.
The PHP is a perfect place to try this out. No one knows me there, and I probably won’t be seeing any of them again after 5-10 days. Plus there are lots of opportunities for people to address me, and everyone else, by name. I started to get called “Kameron” a lot, and it’s been treated like it’s just my name. They don’t know I’m not using it yet; it doesn’t matter! When someone says “Kameron,” it fits.
I don’t yet have a timeline for legally changing my name, but I know that I will. I know the change-over will be hard and it will take a while for everyone to get on board and remember. That’s OK – a lot of good things take a while. Even settling on a name to begin with can take a while. Try not to get discouraged – your name is out there!
If barbies were “People”
Posted: April 6, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: androgynous, androgyny, children, creativity, gender, gender identity, genderqueer, kids, non-binary, play, queer, toys 10 CommentsI got asked a fun question a couple of weeks ago. A reader asked,
If you were to create a new line of barbies (and friends) for tomboys (or whatever you prefer to say) what would that line look like?
I would make a lot of changes to the barbie doll. First and foremost, the bodily dimensions would resemble the range of shapes and sizes that people actually are. When I think of a barbie, the image that comes to mind is a naked doll with these weird neutered bodies and impossible measurements – for some reason, a naked barbie seems more common than a clothed one. Kids get lazy and leave them around without dressing them? For this reason, these new dolls would have clothes that don’t really come off. When I think of people, they are clothed. When I think of myself, I am clothed. Although it’s fun to interchange clothes, these dolls would just wear clothes and then they’d be versatile in other ways.
They’d have knees and elbows that bend better than barbies, and they’d have hands that grip better. There’d be interactive toys to go along with them, but they wouldn’t be dream mansions and safari jeeps and jet skis. There’d be homes with the roofs removed and different things to do in each room – frying pans and food ingredients, TVs and computers and books, brooms and vacuum cleaners. Gardening tools and bikes and basketball hoops.
I would rename these barbies “People.” They would reflect different experiences – different ethnicities, different ages, different sizes, different abilities. One or two might be in a wheelchair. One might be gender-ambiguous. There would be babies and children, adults and old people.
These “People” would hopefully appeal to boys, girls, tomboys, and other gender non-conforming children. Playing with them would center around realistic life choices instead of fashion and glitz and glamor. It’d be a lot like playing house, with plenty of interchangeable activities and roles to experiment with different configurations.
And now for the fantastical part – these products would be manufactured by people making a living wage and they would be an affordable toy option. Haha.
Anyone have other ideas for a more gender variant version of barbie?
Tomboy
Posted: March 24, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: androgyny, emotions, gender, gender identity, genderqueer, graphic novel, lgbtq, non-binary, queer, tomboy, trans, transgender 10 CommentsI just finished reading Tomboy, a graphic novel by Liz Prince. Definitely worthwhile if you come across it. She recounts growing up as a tomboy, and continues to self identify that way, even as a 32 year old adult. She’s kinda a rare breed – someone who is cisgender, heterosexual, and a tomboy (it’s not just a childhood phase she grew out of). She recounts sibling dynamics, friendships, birthday parties, playing in Little League, bullying (there’s a lot of bullying, some of it physical), crushes, relationships, changing schools, basically her life from age 4 – age 18. For the most part, growing up, she rejected all things “girl,” including girl friendships and feeling OK as a girl. A big part of the book is her growing into the fact that she is a girl, and that the way she performs “girl,” is acceptable in the same way the way others choose to perform “girl” is. It’s just different. Boys / masculinity is not superior.
A lot of her journey is relate-able. Wearing a t-shirt over her swimsuit while swimming. Finding comfort behind a baseball hat that she wears constantly. Feeling like an outsider – being rejected by both boys and girls. I can’t believe (and I can believe) the amount of times she was bullied.
It made me reflect on my own childhood / adolescence. I haven’t written about this at all… yet. I kinda feel like I was a tomboy and I was not a tomboy. I looked like a boy from age 10, (cut my hair short, wore boys clothes) but I didn’t feel comfortable with boy stuff or boy friendships. I had one friend, and she was a tomboy, and I emulated her. If she wasn’t around, I reverted back to my painfully shy, nerdy self. I liked learning about endangered animals. And the 50 states. And the US presidents. And the countries of Africa. I didn’t play with action figures or video games much. I mostly remember reading and organizing my collections. And riding my bike a lot.
I honestly don’t have a lot of strong memories of being a kid. I didn’t have many strong emotions that I can remember. I was pretty easy – agreeable, liked all foods (except black licorice, stuff with fennel or anise in it). My parents allowed me to dress the way I wanted, for the most part. But I still had a hard time asking for explicitly boy’s clothes. I did get to wear boys clothes; I just don’t remember how that played out – don’t remember being that vocal about it. Or about anything really. I didn’t get bullied. A part of me believes I was too shy to be on peoples’ radars, thankfully. And plus, my one friendship was solid; we always just played together. We sat at the “boys table,” something I never would have done on my own. I was in girl scouts for a couple of years. I was on a girl’s softball team.
I don’t remember being all that happy, but I don’t remember anything traumatic happening either. It was just… a neutral childhood. I didn’t have a lot of strong preferences.
Adolescence is a different story, for sure – a different blog post for a different time! I do remember my tomboy friend growing out of her tomboy phase starting in middle school, and me being stuck, left to wonder what is going on with me. I definitely questioned why I wanted to look the way I did. I didn’t conform though, I just became more and more isolated in my head.
Anyone else relate to being a tomboy? Being trans and being a tomboy / gender non-conforming child often go hand in hand, but often the two are mutually separate…
2 years on T without noticeable masculinizing changes
Posted: March 18, 2015 Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: Androgel, androgynous, androgyny, gender identity, genderqueer, hormone replacement therapy, lgbtq, lgbtqia, non-binary, queer, testosterone, trans, transgender 6 CommentsToday marks 2 years! I bring this up each time I do one of these posts, because it’s that important: although I haven’t changed much on the outside, my internal world feels significantly different, and that’s why I stay on it. I don’t have any changes to report, but these back-posts say a lot:
one and three-quarters years
one and a half years
one and a quarter years
one whole year
eight months on T
five months on T
I may be changing my tune. I might increase my dose in order to look more masculine/androgynous. I just don’t know yet. Just wait and see. For now though, here’s some pictures of my face; I don’t think I look different over time. Maybe slightly rounder face?
2 years. I keep taking these photos outside and end up squinting in the sun!
1.75 years on testosterone
one year on testosterone
To celebrate this milestone, I figured I’d post an (edited) email reply I sent an internet friend. They asked, essentially, how I finally made the decision to start testosterone. They were wondering if I felt a hormonal imbalance prior to starting T. I said,
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I came out to the principal of my school (workplace)
Posted: March 11, 2015 Filed under: coming out | Tags: coming out, gender identity, genderqueer, janitors, lgbtq, mental health, non-binary, queer, school, trans, transgender, transition, work 20 CommentsThis blog is largely about working as a janitor and about living as a non-binary person. I’ve struggled with the chronicling-of-my-job side of it, and with melding the two aspects of my identity. Largely this is because I am not out at work. It’s hard to write about work if I feel a block. Also I’m not always sure what to share about work… I feel tentative about it.
I am out in other areas of my life – friends all use male pronouns; relatives at least know I prefer male pronouns. In new situations, I plan to let people know about male pronouns whenever I feel like I comfortably can. But work has been a challenge, in my mind.
A big part of that is, what would I be asking for, exactly? Male pronouns, and a name change down the road. What about bathrooms? What about my appearance? I won’t be looking any different, as opposed to other trans-people who transition from one gender to the other. Is this too much to ask for? And what about kids and parents? Where do they fit in? I see teachers getting on board (Maybe? One day?), but how much can I hope for it to trickle down to students and their parents? Does it matter to me that much?
Right now, this is hurting my head. BUT, a couple of weeks ago, I took a first step! I had been wanting to fill the principal in about my recent hospitalization and absence. At the time it happened, I was vague and just left it at I was hospitalized. I did want to let her know the nature of the occurrence and just touch base about where I’m at. I figured it would be a good time to also give her a heads up about my trans-identity. I didn’t plan to ask for any accommodations or change-overs at this time – just wanted to let her know.
So I waited for a good time after school when she was still in the building. I’d been psyching myself up for a few days, so the day I decided I could do it, it was definitely going to happen. It wasn’t perfect – I knew she was getting ready for a kindergarten registration event that evening, but it kinda had to be NOW! I kept it short, knowing she had other things.
I just popped in her office, said I’d like to touch base about where I’m at – she asked me how I was doing and I said, “Much better.” Which was kinda true in the moment, but not true later on. I’ve been on a roller coaster with new med adjustments and things, but I didn’t get into all of that. I just told her that the reason I went out was that due to personal stress and work stress, I could sense my thoughts getting extremely confused and disorganized. I sought out help from my therapist, and she’s the one who brought me to the hospital. I’m on new meds, for now at least (the principal asked about side effects) and seeing my therapist more often for the time being. The principal was open and supportive.
She started to wrap things up by talking about cleaning for tonight (with the event), so I knew I had to jump in with my other purpose before the moment passed. I said, “I do have another thing to bring up, about where I’m at. I wanted to let you know that I identify as transgender.” I went on to specify that most people who ID this way transition from one gender to the other, and I don’t feel that – I feel like I am in the middle. That I’ve been in this process for years, and work is the last place. That I’m on testosterone but such a low dose that my appearance won’t be changing. That I prefer male pronouns and plan to change my name at some point. She listened intently and asked what I needed. I said nothing right now, just time to maybe talk to other people within the school and come out on my own terms. Maybe at some point an email but nothing right now. Just eventually a name and pronoun change. I asked her if she had any context for knowing about trans-people, and she said yes. And that was about it. I wrapped it up really quickly and told her thank you. She said thank you to me too.
I don’t know what this means other than one tiny step. Right now everything has felt so hard, this feels like nothing. I think in time, it may feel like I opened doors up to take further steps, but as of now, it just feels like something I got out of the way.
Here’s to happier days ahead. I should be happy about this, and hopefully it will sink in later…
Being transgender while hospitalized
Posted: February 23, 2015 Filed under: coming out | Tags: Androgel, coming out, gender identity, genderqueer, hospital, hospitalization, lgbtq, medical treatment, mental health, non-binary, queer, testosterone, trans, transgender 2 CommentsI was in the hospital for 4 nights (5 days) a little over a month ago, for psychiatric reasons. Although this was a very trying time and I was in an extremely vulnerable head-space, I was mostly treated with respect and dignity (as much as seemed possible, given the conditions). In terms of my trans-status, I was treated with respect and dignity across the board.
While in the Emergency / Admittance Area, my family and friends present must have spoken behind-the-scenes, on my behalf about the fact that I am transgender, because I didn’t mention it at all at that point. My friend later told me the intake leader (don’t know his exact title) told her that he has a transgender son.
Also my partner later told me there was signage throughout the hospital about their non-discrimination policies. I found this to be accurate in the way they run things. Everything was by schedule and protocol, no special treatment and in general no immediate response to a want (like, “can I get a pencil?” “Can I get a snack” elicited a quicker response.) At times, I found the ways they were doing things to be confusing, and I wasn’t explicitly told how things are run (when mealtimes are, when med times are, what is allowed and not allowed, etc.) I just picked up that information as I went along, as best I could. Not sure why that kind of stuff was never conveyed to me, but it all did make sense in terms of treating everyone fairly.
I got the sense that not every staff member got the memo about male pronouns, but the more “important” positions definitely did, and they took the lead on that when conversing with other staff members. For example, one of the team leaders asked an overnight staff person to “open the shower area for him,” and that staff member said, “What?” and looked confused. The team leader just repeated herself and no problem arose.
I was in an extremely fuzzy, drug induced state the first 24 hours of my stay. As I started to pull out of that and notice my surroundings, I picked up on certain things. If you woke up early enough to make it to the morning meeting at 8am, you could get non-decaffeinated coffee and also information about the day! I was surprised how few people came to the meeting (it felt like one of the highlights of each day.)
On the first day I was capable of making it to the meeting, I was still very much in my head and not at all with it. An out-of-character-for-me event happened. I interrupted the team leader 1 minute into the meeting. I stood up and went to the front of the room. I said I’m new here and introduced myself. I said I’m transgender and could everyone use male pronouns? (If only all comings-out could be this easy!!!!! I feel really proud of myself for this one.) Another patient asked excitedly, “What’s transgender? That means you were born a girl, right?” He seemed ready to continue conversing at length, but another staff member made attempts to derail him and get the meeting back on track, which worked immediately. I wasn’t done with my spiel yet though. I concluded with, “And there are no knives allowed – I heard that early on!” before sitting back down.
I also chatted with another patient about my transgender identity at one point.
The first day I was there, I did not have access to Androgel, but that seemed part of protocol – it takes time to clear personal belongings including prescriptions, maybe? I did not yet have my street clothes or reading material or slippers either. The second day, the nurse brought my Androgel and seemingly played dumb with how to apply it and how much. I told her I apply 1-2 pumps daily (I apply 1 pump, but my prescription states 1-2 pumps). I told her it’s supposed to be applied to your upper arms, but I do my thighs. I told her I have to go into my bathroom (in private) to apply the gel, and she waited for me. The other times she came with it, she referred to it as a spray and also as a patch. She was vague about my dosing. She let me do my thing and then hand it back to her. Although this all felt confusing, I think it was an attempt to convey, “this is your thing and we trust that you will take care of it. We don’t care what you are doing in this regard.” It felt validating.
Although the hospital was far from a pleasant experience, and I would say there were a couple of instances while I was in the emergency department in which I was treated as less than a person with dignity, in terms of my trans-status, they got it right, every step of the way.
A more complete picture of where I’m at
Posted: February 11, 2015 Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: emotions, gender identity, genderqueer, hormone replacement therapy, lgbtq, medication, mental health, non-binary, queer, testosterone, therapy, trans, transgender, work 5 CommentsLast week, I wrote about some highy unpleasant sensations I was experiencing, that I’d deduced were from testosterone for me right now. Then I thought some more about it. I thought about how testosterone has never been anything but a good thing for me. I also got some insightful comments and talked things through with my partner and my therapist. The testosterone bit may be playing a part, but most likely it’s this new medication I’m on, being all wonky with my hormones.
Another big factor it took me a moment to think through is: my menstrual cycle. Although I’ve been on T for close to 2 years, the dose is low enough that I still get my period. Do I like that? No. But I haven’t been wanting to increase the T enough so that it will cease. Maybe one day I will get a hysto. That’s way down the line though. For now, my menstrual cycle is mild enough that I can deal with it. Until the addition of this atypical antipsychotic (Geodon), that is. While premenstrual, I was experiencing hot flashes and cold sweats. I stunk all around (feet, underarms, breath). I could not be around too much light or too much noise or too many people. (My partner and I call it TMS for Too Much Stimulation.) I was making it through the work day but had no energy for anything else. Or, conversely, I had too much pent up energy I needed to expend by dancing wildly or pacing.
Another piece of the puzzle, that my therapist filled in, was the idea that I’m still coming down from a manic jag. It was acute and short-lived, but the brain takes time to rebound from something so extreme. She told me that, essentially, agitation and “feelings of flying/fun” are two sides of the same coin, neurologically speaking. That made a ton of sense. I was still having fun when I was kicking back at home, on a leave from work. As soon as I returned to work, the stress shot through the roof. Makes sense.
Now that I have the pieces to make sense of all that, and now that my menstrual flow is dwindling, I’m finally feeling like myself again. Even better, actually, I’m feeling like I did when I first got on testosterone. All warm & fuzzy, all cozy and peaceful and grounded in my body. I know my brain <–> body connection still has some sorting out to do, and I know I’m going to get off this drug as soon as it is safe to / I feel like it. Right now though, I am so glad I’m out of the woods on this one.
(It makes sense too, because 12 years ago, I was on Risperdal, a different atypical antipsychotic. I was having really wonky hormonal side effects on that too. Some things don’t change much.)
From whimsical musings to invasive ruminations on transitioning, Pt. 2
Posted: January 29, 2015 Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: coming out, gender identity, genderqueer, hormone replacement therapy, lgbtq, non-binary, queer, testosterone, therapy, trans, transgender, transition, writing 7 CommentsSince I have a lot of extra time on my hands right now, I thought I’d read through some of my old blog entries. I came across a couple of pretty good ones that didn’t get read by many people, because I was just starting out. It takes time and energy to build a readership. I thought it’d be fun (and self-indulgent, which I could use right now) to “re-blog” one of my first posts (and edit it lightly). See if it still holds up; maybe make a commentary at the end. This one in particular was my 10th blog post, and it’s from a year and a half ago. I had been on T for 6 months at that point. It got 4 views. I think it’s of interest to more people than that!
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For over a decade, I had been going back and forth thousands of times in my head about whether transitioning, or partial transition, was right for me or not. At some point not that long ago, I seemed to come to the conclusion that no, I wasn’t going to move forward because if I were, I would have done something about it by now. And I haven’t, so I’m not. I must be lacking some internal drive, so it must not be something that I need to do. I settled on identifying as genderqueer and trans* but not planning on medically transitioning in any way. But I was not quite satisfied, not at all actually. Because it was still on my mind. Sometimes just as whimsical musings in the back of my brain. Other times as pervasive/invasive body-dysphoric consistent ruminations.
I thought it had to be all or nothing. I thought I had to have a case ready about how I need to transition, in order to access testosterone. But I don’t need to transition, and I really don’t like to lie. I thought I would need a letter from a therapist, and to jump through all these hoops, to access testosterone, at least in my town, locally. And I wasn’t even sure I wanted it! Eventually I reached a point where I just knew that I needed to try it, just so that I could know. So that at the very least, I could think about it differently or think about it less often, as it relates to a decision about something I should or should not do.
I have this awesome therapist. She doesn’t know much about trans* identities. I’m fairly certain she had not previously had a trans* client before, although I could be wrong. I’d been talking to her about this stuff, and she’d been following along, more or less, in stride. When I would say I need to try this out, she would say, “then why not!” I asked her if she’d write me a letter if need be, and she said she wouldn’t be comfortable doing that; she doesn’t have enough knowledge about it. Still operating under the assumption that I would need a letter, I started also seeing another therapist, basically for the purpose of getting a letter.
This second therapist gave me the name of a doctor during our first session. Turns out that, apparently, I didn’t need a letter! Turns out I didn’t need to convince anyone at any point that I wanted to transition medically. I never once had to lie to get my hands on testosterone. And once I did get my hands on it, I was given the freedom to experiment with the dosing, basically use as much or as little as I wanted. Turns out I want to use as little as possible. Turns out I might be able to stay on it for the rest of my life without looking any more masculine than I currently do (this has yet to be proven, but it’s been 6 months now, and so far, so good). And the internal effects, with this super low dose, are significant and pretty much better than I could have even hoped for.
Basically, for all those years of wondering and second-guessing and processing and feeling anxious and obsessing and daydreaming and doubting myself and ultimately sort of concluding by default that I wouldn’t take any steps forward, actually doing something about it has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
And in retrospect, it isn’t like there’s no turning back, to some extent. Testosterone is a slow-moving substance in terms of long-term changes… I’m really enjoying the internal forward momentum though.
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Now that it’s been close to two years on testosterone, I am at a new normal. I have used the gel every single day, and the benefits have been astronomical. BUT, I forget now; I forget what I used to feel like. I can feel myself approaching a new stage, a stage where I look like someone in between, more so than I already am. This new stage might involve shaving (or plucking chin hairs at a faster pace than I currently do.) It might involve a lot more explaining and coming out. It might involve top surgery and a name change. This is my transition, in process.
Getting some stuff done, while recouperating
Posted: January 27, 2015 Filed under: Janitorial work | Tags: bedroom, coming out, crafting, crocheting, gender identity, genderqueer, janitors, lgbtq, mental health, non-binary, queer, work 11 CommentsThis is pretty much the best type of leave of absence anyone could ask for. Last week, I was in the hospital, but I wasn’t sick or incapacitated in any physical sense. And being out of work for this week, I’m able to get to some stuff I’ve been putting off, in some cases for years.
This week,
– I’m getting my car inspected.
– I’m going to therapy Mon. and Fri.
– I’m meeting with my new psychiatrist.
– I’m having lunch or dinner with a couple people.
– I’m working on finally finishing this blanket I started 2 years ago.
– I’m finishing a piece of writing, a collaborative blog post with Michele Witchipoo.
And the big thing I’m finally getting around to: I am cleaning my room.*
My room has been a disaster area for mostly my entire life. I mean, I guess there were periods of time where I kept things organized throughout my childhood, but largely, it’s a watch-where-you-step zone. There is a method to the madness, but it doesn’t work all that well, and there have been times recently where I can’t find something. I have a tendency to not unpack bags and also a tendency to not want to touch things because they have sentimental value and are buried somewhere down there. It’s like an archaeological dig. This room has not been cleaned in probably 2 years – lots of dust and hair and just grossnesses. At least no food or stuff like that – I’m good about that.
I guess I have a confession: I am a janitor who is a messy person at heart.
Really only a partial view. Need a panorama for this mess!
Almost done with this blanket!
I have a fair amount of anxiety about returning to work next week. I have never been out of work for this long, ever. People might be asking me questions that I need to be prepared to field. Although it may be tough to believe in my line of work, I was temporarily experiencing quite a lot of stress, and many changes were under way, leading up to being out of work. I think I can manage it better once I get back, but I won’t really know until I’m in it. Either way, I know I’ll be ready to go back – only so much I can do with huge swaths of unstructured time. (I’ve also been playing thought experiments about how hard would it be to come out as non-binary at work? Everyone really likes me there – I think they could get on board. We’ll see…)
*When I say “my room,” I’m referring to the room where my partner and I sleep, and where I store a lot of my personal belongings in big disheveled swirls. We don’t hang out in there or watch TV or anything because it’s not all that aesthetically pleasing, at least for my partner. Also, it is the attic of our house, so it is very cold in the winter.
I landed back in the hospital
Posted: January 23, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: antipsychotics, anxiety, depression, emotions, genderqueer, hospital, lgbtq, media, medical treatment, medication, mental health, queer 30 CommentsThis week has thrown me for a loop, big time. Between Saturday AM and Wednesday AM, I was in the hospital for mental health reasons, on a psychiatric unit. I don’t believe I ever thought I’d be back there; in fact, it was my biggest fear. Scarier than heights, the tallest roller-coasters, the dark, spiders, sharks, germs, etc. etc. (I’m actually not afraid of any of those things.)
Just to summarize my history briefly, when I was a senior in high school, I suffered a psychotic break and subsequent major depressive episode (lasting 4 months, and then on and off throughout college). I was on a mixture of different drugs for about 6 years, and I weened myself off all of them after a certain point. I’d been med-free for roughly 10 years, and pretty proud of that fact.
I’ve written about mental health before…
Here: Depression and taking testosterone
Here: That specific trauma is still there
And here: Continuing to work through a specific trauma
…and also scattered throughout many blog entries.
Although this blog is mainly about taking a low dose of T and working as a janitor, it is undeniably also about mental health and self-care. I slipped up pretty big in the self-care department, slowly and gradually at first, and then fast and unstoppably. I went through a full blown manic episode / psychotic break. A lot of it was so fun it’s kinda indescribable. In fact, I can definitely tell I still haven’t come down completely yet – I’m registering a heightened sensitivity to bodily sensations, both pleasant and annoying, I feel keyed up / antsy, I need to be in control of the stimulation levels or else I feel overwhelmed within seconds, smells and tastes are waaaaay off (not constantly, but sporadically), colors and patterns are popping out, my thinking is still relatively disorganized…
But I’m sleeping well and eating well and engaging in a lot of different things and spending 24/7 with my partner for a few days, and that’s what’s important right now. I was prescribed ziprasidone, which is an atypical antipsychotic approved by the FDA in 2001. Am I happy about it? No. Do I think I’ll be on it indefinitely? A strong NO! But I can accept it for right now.
I’m sure I’ll return to some of what I went through, in an attempt to process things and just share where I’m at (it does feel like it’ll be an arduous rehabilitation process, and I’ll be out of work for roughly 2 weeks). For now though, I want to just write about a strange parallel. It might not mean anything if you haven’t seen Breaking Bad, but I’ll give it a whirl anyway (and there are no real spoilers in what is to follow):
Leading up to what I went through, my partner and I were watching a lot of Breaking Bad. Not really binge watching it, but watching an episode almost every night. Now we are not. Haha. We only have 4 or 5 episodes left, but we’re putting the show on pause. I suggested we start watching Malcolm in the Middle instead, largely because Bryan Cranston plays the dad in both shows (and I used to watch it as a teenager and thought it would be fun. It is fun). But – we just watched the 5th episode, and the family is getting their house tented and fumigated. They are in a camper trailer on their front lawn in the meantime. And the parents, at the tail end of the episode, put on gas masks in order to enter the house and get some alone time. I was flipping out. (I mean, my partner was too, but I was shouting and swearing and pacing and called it a night, basically). Haha. I’ll probably be in bed by 9pm.
janitorqueer 