There are always times in which hiding behind the mask is easier than bearing the world without it. Because I have constructed a personae for the mask and I have dedicated part of my life into it, I have given it life. Things that have life, fight for existance. I don’t want this, I don’t have a way to kill it, as it is part of me, no matter the lie of it.
I feel I have stalled. I know there are things I can do, but my self loathing is at an all time high. I cannot look in the mirror, I don’t even want the lights on. The part of me that is wrong – is so very wrong in my mind right now. I am paralyzed by hatred for the thing I am. Hatred is the wrong word, perhaps angst. Dysphoria is a word that gets thrown around quite a bit, perhaps it fits, but it’s used so often as to dilute it’s meaning. Like hearing a non-sensical name of a shop and the name fits but is taken completely for granted. Dysphoria doesn’t seem harsh enough of a word.
Taking a shower makes me cry.
I have always been able to compartmentalize these feelings. I don’t know why I can’t now. Is it that when I came out, I acknowledged the entire situation? Did I break down too many walls so that I cannot put them up again? I hate this feeling, I don’t like reading about it from others. It makes me uneasy just hearing about it, so I understand the discomfort I am possibly creating.
This is a momentary emotion, just a moment of self-pity and melancholy that has come together in a glorious bought of depression.
We all go through these times, being isn’t easy, life isn’t easy and transition is challenging in the extreme. I worry for my wife and children, I worry for me. I worry over my friends who would stand up to protect me. I love being in the background, and I am looking forward to being there again once my transition is as far as I can go. I just want to be a woman living her life.