Three *BOTMP*

29 January

3 Years (Week 156)
Three whole years of hormone replacement therapy (HRT)...goodness, it doesn't seem like it's been that long. But here we are, three years to the day that I began this wonderful journey to become my true self. And I wouldn't change a single thing.

Last year, beginning in late April, an illness had befallen me. H.Pylori, then acid reflux developed, then a burst internal hemorrhoid...which led to a colonoscopy, only to have pain in the backside of my head develop days later. From that, the tinnitus in my right ear began flaring up (though, I think the fire alarm here at my new apartment complex going off had more to do with that. Dizziness ensued, along with my balance becoming imperfect. Then I began getting massive headaches and pain in the backside of my head — inner ear problems, possibly? (I have an appointment with an ENT on the 26th of February.) So my neck decided it wanted to start hurting some more (ex-girlfriend had jumped on my back while I was lying down...back in 2006. Something popped when this happened, and my entire body went numb for about 30 seconds. Two weeks later, the most intense pain I have ever experienced in my life hit my neck and upper right side of my back.)

So there's also that. And here we are in the present day. I wake up each and every morning with slight nausea, and there's a small pain in the upper right side of my back once more. That aspect comes and goes, but it's definitely present. Same goes for the massive headaches and pain. Some days are good, most are bad.

So, with all the negative out of the way. Let's talk about some positive things, right?

In May of this year, Zach and I will be celebrating two years together. I love that boy beyond all comprehension. He's such a wonderful man, and an incredible human being at his core. He cares, and I love when he showcases his sensitive side to me. All that he is makes me want to spend the rest of my life with him — and he knows this, too. ;)
A shaved Zachary appears! (Hehe)
Our kitties are doing okay, too. One of them, Keri, is a chunky monkey, and Ty has been dealing with an illness of his own.The poor little guy has hip and knee problems...arthritis setting in, we think. The sad part is that he's only three years of age. :( Like me, he's too young to be having these problems. Ruth and Phillip have been good parents to Juno and Gigi, too. I go over there every now and then to see how everyone is doing. Gigi, like Keri, has been gaining lots of kitty happiness weight (that's what I'm going to call it anyhow.) Juno is still fluffy and skittish as he can be. We definitely love all of our baby kitties.

As far as my transition goes, I've recently switched over to injectible estrogen. It's making my nipples hurt once more, and that can only be a good thing...more breast tissue is developing! I haven't taken the spironolactone (my testosterone inhibitor) in over three weeks, and I can already see the effects it's having on me — my face has become oily again, causing acne to break out once more on the lower half of my face...ugh. Hopefully the injectible estrogen can suppress it? I'm not taking finasteride anymore either. Apparently, one side effect of taking spiro and finasteride together is "brain fog." My memory, especially short-term memory was beginning to experience a bit of this. It's gotten better since coming off of it, though. Glad to be off of it....but now I worry about hair loss once again. :/

Three years of becoming my true self, and how is my standing within my family? Do I actually need to answer that question? It's still heinously terrible. My family are extraordinarily misguided by their form of their religion. It's still incredibly perplexing how most people can offer hope, love, and other forms of support to me, but can my family? Not even one little call, one text, one simple email to check in with me to see how I'm doing. Not a bloody single one. This is what my anxiety stems from. I can't beat it. I can't break free from it, because to me, accepting and supporting a person you say you love seems so beyond easy.

Shaun tells me I'm not the kind of person he wants to associate with in his life. So what kind of person is that? I figured seeing someone turn into a more fun-loving, carefree, and most importantly, happy individual, would be something anyone would enjoy having in their lives. Goodness, I guess I missed that mark by a mile. It's been almost three years since I've heard even an utterance of a word from my older sister. It's really sad, you guys. And frustrating!

My doctor prescribed an anxiety medication for me today. My problem with meds of these types is that they can make a person lethargic. I don't want to become that. All I want is for my family to admit fault (because they ARE at fault), come to an understanding and acceptance of who I am and who transgender people are, and actually show that unconditional love toward me. That would erase every single damn bit of anxiety I have. Three weeks ago, my doctor witnessed my anxiety take form. I sat in that exam room, sobbing, letting pain release from my eyes, looking like an absolute mess of a person.

I realise that, even though I've lost so much, I've gained an incredible amount of love and support from new friends and family here in Little Rock. I do. I really do. This isn't really the route that I wanted to take this blog post, but my heart decided to push me in this direction. THREE WHOLE YEARS, you guys. THREE.

Today marks the start of year four for me living my life as the person I've always known to be. I hope to be cleared of these digestive and head issues this year, and I hope to begin the process for my SRS procedure. It's time to become fully realised, and I want nothing more than for that surgery to take place.

Be good, do good. Love.

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