When you find out that the world is far crazier than you are. Part 1.

I’m a female of a certain age… 51 to be precise, but hurtling at breakneck speed towards my 52nd birthday. 

I was called a tomboy growing up – I liked sport, climbed trees, preferred jeans to dresses or skirts, had short hair, hung around with boys. Even today you’ll more than likely find me in jeans or leggings, and if I do wear a dress I’ll also be sporting Dr Martin boots or hightop cons. My hair is both long and shaved now, as it was in my early 20’s – but I’ve had it all long, and also shaved it all off (we’re talking wet shaved head here). I hated puberty, getting my periods made me feel sick, and I refused to wear a bra. My mother eventually threw my vests away, I was 13 or 14 years old. 

There was one period in my life when I tried to be ‘girly’, that was after my first proper boyfriend cheated on me and dumped me for a girly woman. I tried to be more like her, because I thought that’s what would get him back. It didn’t, I returned to being me, and moved on. 

I’m bisexual. I had my first sexual encounter with an older girl when I was 7 (I obviously didn’t understand that it was a sexual encounter at that age). I was 11 years old when I was first asked out by a girl. She sent her friend over to ask me… I didn’t think it odd, but thought I’d ask if she knew I was a girl. She didn’t. I’ve only had one long term relationship with a woman, but quite a few flings. The woman I fell in love with is now my best friend, our friendship is much healthier than our relationship ever was. 

Questions I ask myself these days include “What would have happened to me had I grown up during these times?” There seems to be a trend for telling girls, who don’t fit into the patriarchal idea of feminine (Did you think we’d moved beyond this? Me too!), that they’re really boys in the wrong body, or non binary. Girls struggling with their identities are being given one, one that they can never be. They’re being told that transitioning will resolve their issues, that they’ll be happy, or less suicidal, once they “become” a boy. But women and girls can’t become male, just as men and boys can’t become female. You can’t change sex. No matter what hormones you take, no matter what surgeries you have, your biological sex remains the same. Children should never be medicated to prevent puberty, nor given life changing surgeries because of the way they feel. We’re supposed to protect them, not use them as guinea pigs. It makes you wonder if the people pushing early transition are involved with big pharma companies… they’ll definitely be quids in from the medication sales that trans people will need to take for the rest of their lives. 

The increase in FtM transition rate has increased exponentially in recent years. And girls who are on the autistic spectrum are thought to be more likely to hop on the transition train. I have a diagnosis of high functioning autism, although aspergers is perhaps a term which doesn’t create an expectation for a ‘Rain man’ type individual. Again I’m left thinking that, had I been born a few decades later, I could well have been caught up in the fiasco which girls today are drawn in to. What a world these girls have to live in, have to navigate through, as they grow. I feel powerless… what can I do to help? I can only add my voice to the growing number of people (women, men, transwomen and transmen) who are fearful of what society is allowing/doing to these kids. It often feels like it’s not enough. 

(Yes, I know that there are boys being told that they’re in the wrong body, that they’re really girls. But I’m a woman, was once a girl, and so I feel I have more insight into what is happening to girls today) 

Exhausted

It’s been about 5 weeks since I slept for more than a couple of hours at a time. I’m exhausted!

I no longer hear dogs barking… instead I wake up in sheer panic, over and over and over again, all night long. I long for the barking dogs to return to my head! They were friendlier than the panic!

I’ve taken night sedation… changed to a different night sedation… taken anti anxiety meds (prescribed for me and some not prescribed for me). Yet still I wake frequently throughout the night, gut wrenching anxiety tearing me from each short sleep.

I’m starting to question if I need ECT… something, anything to reset my brain! The longer this episode of insomnia lasts the louder my internal dialogue will become. Until it reaches fever pitch… until I start to feel like I’m being torn inside out. The screeching inside triggering the aversion to high pitched noises that’s linked to my ASC… but you can’t cover your ears or run away if the screeching is on the inside.

Tonight I’ll try again. I’ve taken the night sedation… the highest dose I’m prescribed. I no longer have any hope of sleeping though.

Understanding

When you don’t understand the nuances of life that everyone else appears to be comfortable with, life seems difficult. When people use symbols which can be misinterpreted life seems difficult. And in trying to make sense of it all in conjunction with trying to make sense of your connection to them things become jumbled.

Change is hard for everyone. Change for me means trying to work out how I fit in with this new situation down to the minutest detail. So any interaction is gone over, from various angles, trying to work out what it all means. Every small detail makes me over think.