chiropractic care shifts since taking testosterone
Posted: August 27, 2013 Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: back pain, Chiropractic, chiropractor, gender identity, non-binary, Scoliosis, spinal health, testosterone, transgender, transition Leave a commentI’ve been going to a chiropractor about once a month for over 5 years. I have mild scoliosis; my back goes out of alignment in a way that always throws my hips off. Plus, working as a janitor requires a lot of repetitive motions – I try to alternate between right and left as much as I can, but I know I’m skewing to the right anyway. I want to do whatever I can to prevent ever having a back injury.
My doctor noticed the scoliosis when I was 13 and treated it by having me wear a lift in my left shoe. Is this really a treatment for scoliosis? I’d been wearing the lift my whole life right up till seeing this chiropractor. He immediately said I didn’t need it. He was definitely right. The appointments always go the same way. He uses the same motions and tools to put me back into alignment. It is a very short amount of time. I can feel the improvements every time I walk out. Sometimes I’m doubtful about how long the effects last though, when I’m going right back to the same tasks every day…
I had an appointment two weeks after starting testosterone, back in April. The routine seemed slightly different, and he commented I was looking good. I wasn’t planning to, but I mentioned the testosterone. I figured he might have some questions – at least ask me why I was taking it. I’ve never said anything about how I identify to him; he’s totally cool though. I imagine he’d totally take it in stride. He didn’t ask though. All he said was, “testosterone will do wonders for muscle mass, but we’re looking at your whole system here. Your spine works in tandem with muscles, joints and ligaments – it’s also connected to every single internal organ.” I think he went on, but I didn’t really catch it all because it sounded like jargon of the profession to me. He was just laying the groundwork to let me know it is important I keep coming.
I am really debating though. I’ve gone 3 more times since then, and I don’t seem to be nearly as far out of alignment as I was before the testosterone. I can’t know for sure because I can’t quite see what he’s doing and I don’t know enough about it. But I’ve been feeling like it might not be necessary. And he’s said more things to the effect of, it’s important to keep fine-tuning your body. Like one time he told me an extended metaphor about not even Yo Yo Ma being able to play well with a shitty, out-of-tune cello. Or something.
I never thought testosterone would change anything about my back, but it does make sense. If I’m developing some muscle strength to balance things out, I might be able to hold the alignment better. I do think my core muscles have shifted, so that if my back is a lever, it has become a slightly more efficient lever than it was before. That is so cool! I’m still going every month in the meantime, but I’m trying to figure out whether I want to continue or not…
low-dose testosterone for the rest of my life
Posted: July 24, 2013 Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: androgyny, genderqueer, mental health, non-binary, testosterone, transition 7 CommentsI’m a janitor at a school. Also, sometimes I waltz around as a drag king (or once in a while, queen). I feel pretty masculine, but I have no plans to medically transition anytime soon – most likely, I never will. I strongly feel that I’d be lost if I were to transition and blend in as male. As far as blending in as female? That just sounds absurd in my head. No way I feel I could, even though I’m aware I’m read as female most of the time. …because it’s the default. If I don’t tell people differently, how could they know how I see myself? They can’t. I’m not a woman (or a man). I’m not a lesbian. I’m not a butch dyke. I’m not gay (er… that’s complicated). But I probably look like those things.
About 4 months ago, I started a low-dose testosterone adventure. I wanted to take testosterone long term while ideally, not going through any physical changes. I didn’t know whether this would be possible, and I still have yet to find any information about whether it’s possible, specifically. I largely feel comfortable with where I’m at in terms of gender presentation and expression. But I’d been wondering a lot if certain internal experiences could be better. Gradually, I found myself in a place where I realized, I need to try out a few things and see what works for me. I got on a really low dose of Androgel and was completely floored by how well my body seemed to connect with additional testosterone. To me, it feels like it has a whole lot more to do with my mental health than it does with my gender identity, but of course, it’s all intertwined. As of now, I plan to be on testosterone for the rest of my life if possible, while minimizing physical changes. I’m taking testosterone toward androgyny. Although, I’m already androgynous, so I hope to be transitioning (outwardly) toward more of the same, actually.
I’ve felt a lot of different shifts, but most noteworthy is that my general anxiety is pretty much gone. I spent my late teens and early twenties on a lot of different medications (antidepressants, mood stabilizers, antipsychotics) trying to find some balance. None of these worked well for me. Some of them were really shitty. I just gave up and went off all medications, just tried to live with the anxiety and obsessive thought patterns. I’m now in my early thirties, and it feels like increased testosterone was the missing link all along. It is certainly significant. I feel relatively balanced and at peace, for the first time in my life really. And I owe that to trying testosterone under the unfounded assumption that maybe I really don’t have to go through many, if any at all, physical changes.
About 2 months in, I was freaking out that no, it wasn’t going to be possible, and I was going to have to stop. I had acquired a tiny moustache. My voice dropped the slightest bit, which really had me worried. But I tried a lower concentrated version instead of stopping all together, still felt the incredible internal benefits, and as more time goes on, it does seem very possible. My voice returned to the range I’m used to and comfortable with. Other subtle changes have plateaued out, and I stopped worrying so much that I was going to have to choose between coming out in new ways to people I that didn’t really want to come out to, or stopping this thing that I was falling in love with, internally.
A lot of what I write about is going to be about whether this is still possible for me or not. And I’m going to hope to gather info from others’ experiences, over time as well.

