Apr. 15th, 2017

Every day I am reminded by God to hang in there, and realize that there is a reason for this madness. There is so much of my life ahead of me; there are still so many things I have yet to accomplish. There are many things God wants me to learn; there are still so many things I want to learn, both about myself and about God. I have to constantly remind myself that I know the truth, and that while others may disagree with me, they may think I’m lying, etc., I know the truth. I have much to offer the world, and even though I am 37 and only now truly starting to live, I see the sunshine every day. If I can think about the awesome future that God has for me, or just that I have a future, then I will not allow myself to be distracted by the idiots around me who want to steal my joy, steal what little happiness I find in my life, and I will be able to continue to move forward.
My medical records came in today. It says from Bactes Imaging Center. I can only imagine that it is either Lahey or Children’s Hospital. I am terrified. I am terrified by what it is going to tell me about myself, about my life. I think what I fear most is disappointment. I fear that what I have felt my entire life, that I was supposed to have been born a girl, is invalid, just as all my feelings always have been invalid, and that B will no longer support me through my transition. Not that she really is; if there is one thing I have learned, it is that encouragement is rarely, if ever, found in this marriage. What did I see in her that caused me to desire to marry her? Apparently, what I wanted to see in myself. I wanted to be a tough-as-nails person who has a soft spot for a girl. I want to be a woman who is able to stand her ground and stand up to people without backing down. I want to be fearless, prideless, but above all, I want to be myself.
So now, I will open my medical records and take a look and see what is in there.

Musings

Apr. 15th, 2017 05:59 pm
My search through my medical records was not entirely fruitless; the period between when I started going to Lahey, around 1982-1983 and when I sopped the medical record date, roughly 1989, around my birthday, is at least two or three hundred pages thick, and I honestly want to weep for the little boy I once was. I don’t see anything that really stands out to me as evidence of me being intersex. But I do see that I had a lot of problems. There are some reports that I did well in one-on-one settings, but in groups I was often the person either left out or rarely allowed to talk. I remember that I would be struggling in groups. My behavior certainly was different, and it was certainly inappropriate. Now we’re thirty or more years later, and things aren’t much different. I don’t mean that I haven’t developed skills that are helping me or whatnot; I mean that I am still suffering in the sense that I am often at the receiving end, am always interrupted, and consistently dismissed.
I have this nagging feeling that, if it were up to those in my life, I would likely have every aspect of my life policed and monitored, from my thoughts to my actions, every day of every hour. I am not surprised that people thought so little of me; while I am aware of my own limitations, I have to wonder how others view themselves. Few, I think, have gone through as much as I have and emerged unscathed. I was naïve to think that I had somehow survived without being impacted mentally.
Tonight I’m going to be doing some work around the house, cleaning, and obviously listening to Bethany. Right now I’ll check into Liberty and Quincy for a bit.

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