HRT: 200 days later…

Pixiv @ hadean92
Every so often, reality has a way of hitting us, repeatedly, like a ton of bricks. You don’t expect it. You don’t encourage it. But it comes, without warning, like a weight you can’t shake.

And sometimes, we don’t care either way.

Loneliness. Not simply the awareness of it, but the belittling of it. Spending years throwing the blanket of work and career-related ambitions over it. Pretending it wasn’t really there and laughing at it whenever it tried to peek out from underneath.

I honestly accepted that my reality was simply to work hard, succeed, release my mum of my presence to no longer be a burden to her, and then, to perhaps have a chance at a relationship that could be more than just off-handed flirtations and warm hugs.

For a long time, I was able to deal with keeping loneliness under wraps. Not talking about it and only bringing it up in jest among friends. I didn’t think I was lonely. And, to be honest, I still don’t think I am. I’m so much happier to be living true to myself. Who should be lonely when they love themselves, right?

Though reality has a way of telling a different narrative. The reality I’ve been keeping to myself away from everyone. A reality I feel like sharing a bit.

Just yesterday, I reached 200 days on Hormone Replacement Therapy. I take my pills happily every day, and the excitement mixed with a hint of anxiety of picking them up never seems to get old. I doubt it ever will.

Some may wonder what kinds of physical changes have occurred. The truth is…not very much. At least, not very much in what can be seen in public photographs taken of me. Though going through a second puberty is something I’m starting to not put too much emphasis on anymore – checking my body on a day-to-day basis – I always wondered was whether my emotions and mentality would change. For much of my life, Psychology & Philosophy (as it relates to Deductive Logic) unconsciously were of intense interest, and frequent practices of mine. So as I am the only one who can know my self, I wondered if I could ever consciously perceive such internal changes in the midst of hoping I could one day wake up and see the girl I am without smoke and mirrors.

Wake up with dysphoria no where to be found.

Maybe somewhere around Day 150 – there’s no way to know for sure – I began experiencing bouts of significant & sudden emotional lows, followed by intense moments of mental clarity. I generally shrugged such things off as normal, but recently, my awareness has only become more evident. Shall I show you the ways…

Just yesterday, while driving to my artist’s house, I was hit with a wave of apathy and guilt, as if I may lose a friend. Though it was for something extremely petty regarding my close friend who probably didn’t care either way about it – and I knew this – I experienced it without discrimination. After arriving & settling in, I suddenly realized that the words coming from my mouth in conversation showed no signs of extraneous thought. Everything was just…clear. Upon departing hours later, I was hit with the reality that I was not only alone in the car, but I may never have someone to share my life with because of who I am, physically, and how I am, mentally. That no matter how hard I work or what I accomplish or how much people may praise me, I’ll still never be good enough to love.

As these uncommonly vulnerable moments are gradually becoming common, I’ve begun aptly acknowledging loneliness. Though I didn’t expect it, I don’t laugh at it. Though I didn’t encourage it, it came without warning. I couldn’t laugh at it. My subconscious was merely relaying a simple fact that, in that moment, happened to be 100% truth. I didn’t complain, nor would I seek pity. I just quietly hoped it wouldn’t always be this way, despite being told by my already spoken-for friends that it won’t be.

As is customary in how I perform self-diagnosing assessments through rigorous trials – most notably of how I reached the point of needing to kill the “double life” and transition fully – I have always taken great care in not immediately blaming HRT or my transition overall for anything that may seem out of the ordinary. These are not new thoughts by any means. Though, in the context of my transition, how I am experiencing these thoughts and feelings are entirely new. They hit harder and dig deeper than they ever have. Almost to the point of rendering me useless when I once could channel those emotions towards productivity.

I find this strange and distracting, yet exciting and welcoming. Just like reality. I have no desire to deviate from the path I’m on. My reality continues to broaden as my body and mind inch ever closer to where my heart & soul have always known. Estrogen and lower testosterone levels are said to make a person weaker. I disagree – the ones who are strong are those who do not let reality get the best of them. As the reality of being a trans girl weighs on my life and emotions, I hope I can become strong enough to keep caring about myself…

…god knows I offer care way too damn much to people who refuse to offer any in return.


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