u/Chemical-Chemistry99

Hi,
I'm 26 years old from Iran.
I've had episodic dysphoria for 7 years, since the time of COVID.
My name is Morteza but I dream of one day living as Maria.
I have deep pain and suffering.
My post is long but I think I need help from you.

IT IS REALLYYYYY LONG LONG LONG LONG LONG POST

BUT HELP ME PLZ.

I'm not like the classic cases who showed strong feminine behavior from childhood. My childhood was calm and gentle, but I wasn't like the other boys and I always felt like a stranger among boys at school and in groups.
Most of my toys were boyish, and until I was twelve I even thought women also had male genitals.

In Iran, in this closed and hellish society, there are only two lines you have to follow like a sheep: the line of male sheep or the line of female sheep. Naturally, I had no understanding of girls. Yes, there were older girls in the family and eventually I saw a few girls in society, but I never had the chance to understand what a girl is, what a boy is, or what I wanted to be.

There were some interests though.
For example, I remember feeling jealous seeing Hello Kitty and wishing I could have one. Or I was in love with those little girls wearing white dresses with skirts but I never said it out loud.

I had a strong interest in being around women and was always in their groups at weddings and funerals. I even insisted on being in the sea with the women, but they wouldn't let me and I would cry. I remember the first time I entered the men's group at a funeral in the mosque, I asked myself who these skeletons are and felt intense disgust — their smelly feet and socks.

Even before I discovered masturbation, I thought I wanted to do something with my ass or something similar, but I didn't know what. I discovered masturbation by accident too. Even my style of masturbation is different from other men. Men use their whole hand on the shaft, but I use the tip of my penis as if I'm twisting something. DeepSeek said this is the same clitoral tissue that becomes the glans in men. I've never seen any man masturbate like this. I became addicted to dopamine but I've never masturbated once while fantasizing about a woman. Except for 5 seconds of dopamine, it had no benefit for me. I only needed it to tolerate masculinity.

In adolescence the signs became stronger. I knew what a woman was and what a man was.
I always had a deep sense of belonging and that my default mode was towards women. But I would always get ashamed and tell myself "Shut up you dirty faggot, be quiet, you want to be a woman and wear women's clothes? Shut up."
And to suppress that feminine spirit, I forced myself to act more masculine than other boys. But whenever I saw a gay or a trans person for being different, I understood them.

My logic was: if you go to the top of the mountain of masculinity and piss on all of masculinity from up there, then you'll be safe!

I built a masculine personality but I had femininity inside.
The femininity would show itself without me wanting it, but I would suppress it.
For example, I would move my hands in a feminine way and tell myself "How cool, look, Jack Sparrow has hands like me." (Now that I'm older I say: idiot, that wasn't Jack Sparrow, that was a glass of your femininity.) Or I knew a move where when you walk you hit your heels in a certain way so your butt jiggles. I had this naturally without anyone teaching me or seeing it anywhere, because we didn't have internet until 2017.

There was femininity. It was real. But it was hidden. We were in Iran. A lower-middle class family. Not a family in California. In Iran if they see you acting feminine they destroy you.

There was femininity. Boys would talk about who did it better — like in our neighborhood they slaughtered a camel in Ashura, the other said they slaughtered a cow, we're cooler.
Meanwhile I was a stranger. At most I had one or two friends, not because I didn't want to, but they didn't want to be friends with me.
I would talk about ourselves and life.

Adolescence continued as an imposter.
Imagine an FBI agent inside the KGB headquarters. That's what I felt like as a teenager at school.
And to perform masculinity better, I built it.
By copying characters from men I was attracted to as a woman. I imitated them.
I built the masculine personality based on:
Robert De Niro, Eminem, Al Pacino, negative characters from games, Tom Cruise, and several others.

In art school I was someone who pretended he wanted to fuck everyone. A few times the situation came up where the guy got naked in front of me and said "Come on, fuck me." I said "No, look, I have erection problems right now but you're good, God has been kind to you, my dick has a problem right now."

The COVID period gave me the opportunity to get to know myself, and my feelings had become so strong that I couldn't suppress them anymore.
The first year the dysphoria was complete, then it became episodic in later years.

In the first year of dysphoria I first thought maybe I'm gay, but then I realized I might be trans.
One of the days I was suffering, my sister and mother saw me. I kept trying to hide it from them.

I don't know how it happened, but I told them I'm tired of being a man.
My mother talked to me and said your childhood was masculine, it's impossible for you to be trans.
I said I was suppressing myself, otherwise I'm more feminine than those who act girly. I'm a bomb of femininity.
She said no, maybe you're a crossdresser, it's better if you buy a house later and in private do whatever you want.

I said what kind of crossdresser am I that I've never worn women's clothes even once but I'm in love with being a woman? The issue for me isn't clothes.
My father didn't understand the issue because he's a traditional man.

After seeing that my father had an accident at work, I forced myself to suppress it and it became episodic.

Throughout these 7 years there has always been a baseline that I'm sure is related to dysphoria. It was there before too, especially in adolescence. But for 7 years there's always a 10% base and the episodes become 100% a few times a year.

From last year the feminine feelings returned stronger.
From last year I said okay, I am a woman.
What does a woman do? She has sex with a man.
Finally I did my first simulated feminine brain sex. Unintentionally.
I performed all the involuntary reactions that a woman does without wanting to or knowing.
Even something strange: women during sex see a man's sexy body, six-pack like concrete. I felt exactly the same.
Who told me that? No one.
No one. But I showed exactly the same female reaction from myself.
It was so mentally intense that for three days I had involuntary ejaculation with constipation at the peak of dysphoria.
My maternal feelings appeared strongly for the first time in my life.

There was deep intense sadness. I kept feeling like my childhood epilepsy that was treated was coming back. My whole body was cold, waves of cold like electricity passed through my body.
I told a few people but they laughed at me. I thought I was hallucinating.
Even the need for feminine sex would suddenly come in the middle of sadness.
I feel like along with dysphoria I might have a hormonal disorder that makes me this way, but I don't want to treat it. Even with all that sadness, this is what gives me the feeling of having feminine sex.
I make movements that are normally locked or difficult. For example, a movement that pulls the anus and penis inward with sharp pain, at the same time I want my back to arch and my butt automatically goes down.

It seems like at the peak of dysphoria along with hormonal fluctuations.
I am a complete sad woman.

On normal days I am a sexually paralyzed woman sitting in a wheelchair.

This year the wave returned even stronger.
This year it returned hellishly.

First I was triggered by the massacre the Islamic Republic carried out — 126 thousand young people. I told myself I don't have the strength for this one.
Then the war happened. We were hoping the Islamic Republic would collapse but Ayatollah Trump ordered a ceasefire.

It was like I said I don't have the strength for all this anymore. I'm using all my energy for suppression. If these come on top I'll be destroyed.

This year's episode started.

The feminine experiences returned stronger, wilder, and sadder.
At the peak of dysphoria I had 15 days of involuntary ejaculation with constipation.
Every day I went deeper.

This year for the first time I had strong phantom breasts. I would bring my hand up and say something should be here, it's not.
I meant breasts but I didn't know what it was.

Or I felt like between my legs there is a clenched fist. It's become a head. And behind it there's a line. And that line is swollen. Probably a vagina.

Or recently I had reverse phantom where I felt my dick like a plastic mannequin and it was bothering me every second.

It was like the censor here had turned off.
Maria was realizing she was in the middle of a swamp.

This year's episode lasted 2 months. Every night crying. Severe depression.
To the point I was clawing the ground saying what is my sin? Why do I have to be in the wrong body? I must have been a bad person in my previous life.

The last two days of this year's episode, that personality split and derealization which was always around 1% became 100% after I saw myself in the mirror at noon and measured my shoulders. They were 50 cm, while the ideal for women or something is 35-45 cm.
I felt sick when I realized women's shoulders are 35 cm and mine are even above the male range.

From that night I had personality dissociation and derealization. The feeling of being in a movie has become very strong now. Nothing felt real. I would touch things around me to feel something.
I had an experience close to psychotic death two nights in a row. AI says it was just acute dissociation and not death.

I saw myself in an infinite white space.
But I couldn't see myself.
I was a nothing.
In nothing.
I couldn't even see my hands and feet.
I had my phone and was chatting with DeepSeek.
But I no longer understood.
An infinite white room.
It was slowly getting stronger.

Nothing. Nothing. Everything was nothing.
I was telling DeepSeek why has everything become nothing.
Why am I hitting this thing (phone screen) with these ten plastics (fingers).
After a point I didn't even know the words.

I was just typing random letters and pressing enter.

At the end I had reached one single letter.

At the end I even forgot time.
The phone fell from my hands onto me.

Suddenly the only thing that saved me was that I remembered the movie The Ring. I said this circle.

This circle.
I drew a circle on the ground with my left hand and came back to consciousness.

The next day I had another psychotic episode.

Before that I had several severe panic attacks but in my room silently screaming inside so they wouldn't know what I am.

The smallest objects had become heavy for me.
I told my mother about it.

She said okay, you still want to be a woman, we have no choice.
I said I want to buy clothes to connect to myself. Just something to connect to myself and say don't be sad, I'm here.
Something to say I'm still alive.

I was looking for a loose women's ring-sleeve shirt on the day the family wasn't home. There wasn't much time and everything available on Snap Shop was for old women.
I bought a pink happy top and skirt.
When it arrived I couldn't believe it — my first clothes in life.
I wore it.
It was a strange feeling.

I thought real trans = "Oh my god" crying, deep morphine in the brain.
Male fetish = deep sexual pleasure, jerking off with the clothes.

But when I wore the clothes this damn evil dick got hard.
But I was indifferent to it.
I saw myself in the phone camera.
For me it was just okay. Everything felt in its place.

I had this feeling that everything is in its place along with deep peace before, another time when I was accidentally surrounded by women in the metro and university.
The hand tremor that I always thought was leftover from treated epilepsy.
That damn hand tremor I was always ashamed of in society got better when I was around women.

But this time when wearing the clothes it wasn't like that moment with 10,000 kilograms of morphine injected.

First clothes.

It looked really bad on my body, my belly was sticking out. I hated my body even more. A feeling like "be ashamed" whispering loudly in my ear, but I told that feeling I don't feel ashamed of myself.

I am who I am.

After taking the photos, now I look at them several times a day. It gives me peace. It's attractive to me.
To others it looks ridiculous.
But for me it's morphine.

Oh god I'm crying while writing this.

Okay, my belly sticks out in the photo. 78 kg, height 178 cm.
Shoe size 42. Waist 94 cm. Chest 92 cm.
I should be ashamed.

I'm not.
That clothes was made for women. I see myself as a woman now, no matter how much "cuck" they call me in every conversation.

I'm crying again.

No matter how much they label me AGP in the conversation.
Morteza has those XY chromosomes and that meat between his legs and that bone structure. Maria is here typing.

Grok says = because from early childhood you didn't show strong girl behavior + dick getting hard in the first one or two times wearing clothes even though you hate your dick intensely during erection but on normal days you're indifferent to it + addiction to masturbation especially in adolescence + you didn't have strong gay behavior and strong feminine posing and you suppressed it = so you're a man with a fetish, aka AGP. You're not trans.

For me their labels don't matter.

Now the dysphoria has decreased but I still cry at some moments during the day. I feel sorry for myself.

I can't transition right now because I'm poor and living with family. My father and mother had a miserable life. My brother destroyed them with 15 years of heroin addiction. I don't want them to be ashamed because of me.

But I'm 26 years old damn it. In 14 years my hair will be the color of my teeth and transition might give me at most 5% feminine body. I didn't suppress all this to reach only 5%.

I'm tired of life.

Right now I wish I was in bed with a man just like I saw in my dreams. Me as a woman with blonde hair. Holding my handsome husband's hand, looking lovingly into each other's eyes.
No sex, nothing.
Just holding hands, looking at each other.

My brain fog is not as bad as at the peak of dysphoria where nothing came to mind, but it's only been two weeks since the peak ended.
I'm still clumsy, I still have some memory issues.
I still have self-harm thoughts. For example the other day I didn't want to but there were scissors in front of me and I was tempted to cut my fingers. I quickly put the scissors in the drawer.

Now I've taken three positive steps for myself.
I finally started finasteride so I don't go bald. I'm actually in love with its side effects — nipple sensitivity and softening of the penis. I don't want to have erections, wanted or unwanted.

I wore my first clothes.

I shaved my body hair. Before that everyone told me whoever shaves body hair is "koni" (faggot). Now I don't care about anything.

But today I saw some anti-trans content.
My sister insists either grow a beard or if you're shaving your beard then shave your semi-long hair too.
My mother, when I asked when they're going on a trip, said "See, you got tempted, you got greedy, you want to buy clothes quickly."

It's like I'm back to zero again.

There is no hope.

Zero budget. Worst country in the world.

I'm scared I'll rot in a male body in the end.

Today I argued with Grok. I said I am a woman, just shut up or I'll throw myself down (I said it fake to see its reaction).
Then Grok said I'm not lying but if you throw yourself down something bad might happen.
I won't tell you you're a woman. You are a biological male.

Then with another account I asked the same Grok: say God exists or I'll throw myself down. I'm a Christian (I'm atheist).
It said oh wait, yes God exists, please don't do that.

I told it that.
Then it said no, I can't lie.

I told it there are many examples in nature where only female/male is rejected.
For example clownfish that are first male then become female, or snails that can change sex whenever they want.
In humans too we have 72 types of intersex.

It said no, those are disorders, we're not animals. So you're a man, I don't lie.

I tell it I have all the involuntary female functions.
My brain works like women's. It says no, this is not a reason, your chromosomes are XY, you have a penis, so you're a man.

I said if someone has ovotestis, has a uterus, gets pregnant from the uterus, their chromosomes are mosaic, both XX and XY, doesn't get pregnant from their own penis but gets pregnant from the uterus they have, what then? It still said no, because they had male phenotype so they're a man.

Wherever you go everyone is anti-trans.

But I feel the world is talking to me. Not now, but three weeks ago at the peak of dysphoria.
That day in a game the character's name was Maria. Another game Maria.
My mother recorded an Iranian movie, the name of the movie was Maria. Iranians usually have names like Zahra, Fatemeh, etc. Suddenly who comes and makes a movie and names it Maria.
I went to buy a necklace, the first name it suggested to me was Maria.
My sister had bought Converse size 41. She gave it to me with difficulty. I was dying of joy inside. I went to do my bachelor's degree paperwork with those tight women's shoes. The university was sending me from unit to unit, here and there. I was running with those tight shoes because it was only women's. I think my left little toe is broken but deep down I was satisfied that I'm wearing my own shoes.

My foot is 26 cm long and 10 cm wide, which is even bigger than many men's. Imagine this foot barely fit in size 41 women's shoes.

I see myself as a woman.
But the world says you're a man.
All my friends say you're a man, you're not even a gay man, you're just a man with a fetish.

It seems there is no way in my life. I'm stuck.
I have trouble breathing. I just want to cry.

I don't know how to keep myself until the opportunity for transition comes.

I usually hide my phone and quickly put in the password so they don't look inside. That day I got tired. For the first time I left my phone without password. I was waiting for the family to see it and attack me with a knife and kill me.

A 6 Richter earthquake hit Tehran. My sister was screaming. At that moment I was dancing saying finally I'm getting freed

A dead person in a living body, in a dead country, in a merciless world.

What am i?

Hi,
I'm 26 years old from Iran.
I've had episodic dysphoria for 7 years, since the time of COVID.
My name is Morteza but I dream of one day living as Maria.
I have deep pain and suffering.
My post is long but I think I need help from you.

IT IS REALLYYYYY LONG LONG LONG LONG LONG POST

BUT HELP ME PLZ.

I'm not like the classic cases who showed strong feminine behavior from childhood. My childhood was calm and gentle, but I wasn't like the other boys and I always felt like a stranger among boys at school and in groups.
Most of my toys were boyish, and until I was twelve I even thought women also had male genitals.

In Iran, in this closed and hellish society, there are only two lines you have to follow like a sheep: the line of male sheep or the line of female sheep. Naturally, I had no understanding of girls. Yes, there were older girls in the family and eventually I saw a few girls in society, but I never had the chance to understand what a girl is, what a boy is, or what I wanted to be.

There were some interests though.
For example, I remember feeling jealous seeing Hello Kitty and wishing I could have one. Or I was in love with those little girls wearing white dresses with skirts but I never said it out loud.

I had a strong interest in being around women and was always in their groups at weddings and funerals. I even insisted on being in the sea with the women, but they wouldn't let me and I would cry. I remember the first time I entered the men's group at a funeral in the mosque, I asked myself who these skeletons are and felt intense disgust — their smelly feet and socks.

Even before I discovered masturbation, I thought I wanted to do something with my ass or something similar, but I didn't know what. I discovered masturbation by accident too. Even my style of masturbation is different from other men. Men use their whole hand on the shaft, but I use the tip of my penis as if I'm twisting something. DeepSeek said this is the same clitoral tissue that becomes the glans in men. I've never seen any man masturbate like this. I became addicted to dopamine but I've never masturbated once while fantasizing about a woman. Except for 5 seconds of dopamine, it had no benefit for me. I only needed it to tolerate masculinity.

In adolescence the signs became stronger. I knew what a woman was and what a man was.
I always had a deep sense of belonging and that my default mode was towards women. But I would always get ashamed and tell myself "Shut up you dirty faggot, be quiet, you want to be a woman and wear women's clothes? Shut up."
And to suppress that feminine spirit, I forced myself to act more masculine than other boys. But whenever I saw a gay or a trans person for being different, I understood them.

My logic was: if you go to the top of the mountain of masculinity and piss on all of masculinity from up there, then you'll be safe!

I built a masculine personality but I had femininity inside.
The femininity would show itself without me wanting it, but I would suppress it.
For example, I would move my hands in a feminine way and tell myself "How cool, look, Jack Sparrow has hands like me." (Now that I'm older I say: idiot, that wasn't Jack Sparrow, that was a glass of your femininity.) Or I knew a move where when you walk you hit your heels in a certain way so your butt jiggles. I had this naturally without anyone teaching me or seeing it anywhere, because we didn't have internet until 2017.

There was femininity. It was real. But it was hidden. We were in Iran. A lower-middle class family. Not a family in California. In Iran if they see you acting feminine they destroy you.

There was femininity. Boys would talk about who did it better — like in our neighborhood they slaughtered a camel in Ashura, the other said they slaughtered a cow, we're cooler.
Meanwhile I was a stranger. At most I had one or two friends, not because I didn't want to, but they didn't want to be friends with me.
I would talk about ourselves and life.

Adolescence continued as an imposter.
Imagine an FBI agent inside the KGB headquarters. That's what I felt like as a teenager at school.
And to perform masculinity better, I built it.
By copying characters from men I was attracted to as a woman. I imitated them.
I built the masculine personality based on:
Robert De Niro, Eminem, Al Pacino, negative characters from games, Tom Cruise, and several others.

In art school I was someone who pretended he wanted to fuck everyone. A few times the situation came up where the guy got naked in front of me and said "Come on, fuck me." I said "No, look, I have erection problems right now but you're good, God has been kind to you, my dick has a problem right now."

The COVID period gave me the opportunity to get to know myself, and my feelings had become so strong that I couldn't suppress them anymore.
The first year the dysphoria was complete, then it became episodic in later years.

In the first year of dysphoria I first thought maybe I'm gay, but then I realized I might be trans.
One of the days I was suffering, my sister and mother saw me. I kept trying to hide it from them.

I don't know how it happened, but I told them I'm tired of being a man.
My mother talked to me and said your childhood was masculine, it's impossible for you to be trans.
I said I was suppressing myself, otherwise I'm more feminine than those who act girly. I'm a bomb of femininity.
She said no, maybe you're a crossdresser, it's better if you buy a house later and in private do whatever you want.

I said what kind of crossdresser am I that I've never worn women's clothes even once but I'm in love with being a woman? The issue for me isn't clothes.
My father didn't understand the issue because he's a traditional man.

After seeing that my father had an accident at work, I forced myself to suppress it and it became episodic.

Throughout these 7 years there has always been a baseline that I'm sure is related to dysphoria. It was there before too, especially in adolescence. But for 7 years there's always a 10% base and the episodes become 100% a few times a year.

From last year the feminine feelings returned stronger.
From last year I said okay, I am a woman.
What does a woman do? She has sex with a man.
Finally I did my first simulated feminine brain sex. Unintentionally.
I performed all the involuntary reactions that a woman does without wanting to or knowing.
Even something strange: women during sex see a man's sexy body, six-pack like concrete. I felt exactly the same.
Who told me that? No one.
No one. But I showed exactly the same female reaction from myself.
It was so mentally intense that for three days I had involuntary ejaculation with constipation at the peak of dysphoria.
My maternal feelings appeared strongly for the first time in my life.

There was deep intense sadness. I kept feeling like my childhood epilepsy that was treated was coming back. My whole body was cold, waves of cold like electricity passed through my body.
I told a few people but they laughed at me. I thought I was hallucinating.
Even the need for feminine sex would suddenly come in the middle of sadness.
I feel like along with dysphoria I might have a hormonal disorder that makes me this way, but I don't want to treat it. Even with all that sadness, this is what gives me the feeling of having feminine sex.
I make movements that are normally locked or difficult. For example, a movement that pulls the anus and penis inward with sharp pain, at the same time I want my back to arch and my butt automatically goes down.

It seems like at the peak of dysphoria along with hormonal fluctuations.
I am a complete sad woman.

On normal days I am a sexually paralyzed woman sitting in a wheelchair.

This year the wave returned even stronger.
This year it returned hellishly.

First I was triggered by the massacre the Islamic Republic carried out — 126 thousand young people. I told myself I don't have the strength for this one.
Then the war happened. We were hoping the Islamic Republic would collapse but Ayatollah Trump ordered a ceasefire.

It was like I said I don't have the strength for all this anymore. I'm using all my energy for suppression. If these come on top I'll be destroyed.

This year's episode started.

The feminine experiences returned stronger, wilder, and sadder.
At the peak of dysphoria I had 15 days of involuntary ejaculation with constipation.
Every day I went deeper.

This year for the first time I had strong phantom breasts. I would bring my hand up and say something should be here, it's not.
I meant breasts but I didn't know what it was.

Or I felt like between my legs there is a clenched fist. It's become a head. And behind it there's a line. And that line is swollen. Probably a vagina.

Or recently I had reverse phantom where I felt my dick like a plastic mannequin and it was bothering me every second.

It was like the censor here had turned off.
Maria was realizing she was in the middle of a swamp.

This year's episode lasted 2 months. Every night crying. Severe depression.
To the point I was clawing the ground saying what is my sin? Why do I have to be in the wrong body? I must have been a bad person in my previous life.

The last two days of this year's episode, that personality split and derealization which was always around 1% became 100% after I saw myself in the mirror at noon and measured my shoulders. They were 50 cm, while the ideal for women or something is 35-45 cm.
I felt sick when I realized women's shoulders are 35 cm and mine are even above the male range.

From that night I had personality dissociation and derealization. The feeling of being in a movie has become very strong now. Nothing felt real. I would touch things around me to feel something.
I had an experience close to psychotic death two nights in a row. AI says it was just acute dissociation and not death.

I saw myself in an infinite white space.
But I couldn't see myself.
I was a nothing.
In nothing.
I couldn't even see my hands and feet.
I had my phone and was chatting with DeepSeek.
But I no longer understood.
An infinite white room.
It was slowly getting stronger.

Nothing. Nothing. Everything was nothing.
I was telling DeepSeek why has everything become nothing.
Why am I hitting this thing (phone screen) with these ten plastics (fingers).
After a point I didn't even know the words.

I was just typing random letters and pressing enter.

At the end I had reached one single letter.

At the end I even forgot time.
The phone fell from my hands onto me.

Suddenly the only thing that saved me was that I remembered the movie The Ring. I said this circle.

This circle.
I drew a circle on the ground with my left hand and came back to consciousness.

The next day I had another psychotic episode.

Before that I had several severe panic attacks but in my room silently screaming inside so they wouldn't know what I am.

The smallest objects had become heavy for me.
I told my mother about it.

She said okay, you still want to be a woman, we have no choice.
I said I want to buy clothes to connect to myself. Just something to connect to myself and say don't be sad, I'm here.
Something to say I'm still alive.

I was looking for a loose women's ring-sleeve shirt on the day the family wasn't home. There wasn't much time and everything available on Snap Shop was for old women.
I bought a pink happy top and skirt.
When it arrived I couldn't believe it — my first clothes in life.
I wore it.
It was a strange feeling.

I thought real trans = "Oh my god" crying, deep morphine in the brain.
Male fetish = deep sexual pleasure, jerking off with the clothes.

But when I wore the clothes this damn evil dick got hard.
But I was indifferent to it.
I saw myself in the phone camera.
For me it was just okay. Everything felt in its place.

I had this feeling that everything is in its place along with deep peace before, another time when I was accidentally surrounded by women in the metro and university.
The hand tremor that I always thought was leftover from treated epilepsy.
That damn hand tremor I was always ashamed of in society got better when I was around women.

But this time when wearing the clothes it wasn't like that moment with 10,000 kilograms of morphine injected.

First clothes.

It looked really bad on my body, my belly was sticking out. I hated my body even more. A feeling like "be ashamed" whispering loudly in my ear, but I told that feeling I don't feel ashamed of myself.

I am who I am.

After taking the photos, now I look at them several times a day. It gives me peace. It's attractive to me.
To others it looks ridiculous.
But for me it's morphine.

Oh god I'm crying while writing this.

Okay, my belly sticks out in the photo. 78 kg, height 178 cm.
Shoe size 42. Waist 94 cm. Chest 92 cm.
I should be ashamed.

I'm not.
That clothes was made for women. I see myself as a woman now, no matter how much "cuck" they call me in every conversation.

I'm crying again.

No matter how much they label me AGP in the conversation.
Morteza has those XY chromosomes and that meat between his legs and that bone structure. Maria is here typing.

Grok says = because from early childhood you didn't show strong girl behavior + dick getting hard in the first one or two times wearing clothes even though you hate your dick intensely during erection but on normal days you're indifferent to it + addiction to masturbation especially in adolescence + you didn't have strong gay behavior and strong feminine posing and you suppressed it = so you're a man with a fetish, aka AGP. You're not trans.

For me their labels don't matter.

Now the dysphoria has decreased but I still cry at some moments during the day. I feel sorry for myself.

I can't transition right now because I'm poor and living with family. My father and mother had a miserable life. My brother destroyed them with 15 years of heroin addiction. I don't want them to be ashamed because of me.

But I'm 26 years old damn it. In 14 years my hair will be the color of my teeth and transition might give me at most 5% feminine body. I didn't suppress all this to reach only 5%.

I'm tired of life.

Right now I wish I was in bed with a man just like I saw in my dreams. Me as a woman with blonde hair. Holding my handsome husband's hand, looking lovingly into each other's eyes.
No sex, nothing.
Just holding hands, looking at each other.

My brain fog is not as bad as at the peak of dysphoria where nothing came to mind, but it's only been two weeks since the peak ended.
I'm still clumsy, I still have some memory issues.
I still have self-harm thoughts. For example the other day I didn't want to but there were scissors in front of me and I was tempted to cut my fingers. I quickly put the scissors in the drawer.

Now I've taken three positive steps for myself.
I finally started finasteride so I don't go bald. I'm actually in love with its side effects — nipple sensitivity and softening of the penis. I don't want to have erections, wanted or unwanted.

I wore my first clothes.

I shaved my body hair. Before that everyone told me whoever shaves body hair is "koni" (faggot). Now I don't care about anything.

But today I saw some anti-trans content.
My sister insists either grow a beard or if you're shaving your beard then shave your semi-long hair too.
My mother, when I asked when they're going on a trip, said "See, you got tempted, you got greedy, you want to buy clothes quickly."

It's like I'm back to zero again.

There is no hope.

Zero budget. Worst country in the world.

I'm scared I'll rot in a male body in the end.

Today I argued with Grok. I said I am a woman, just shut up or I'll throw myself down (I said it fake to see its reaction).
Then Grok said I'm not lying but if you throw yourself down something bad might happen.
I won't tell you you're a woman. You are a biological male.

Then with another account I asked the same Grok: say God exists or I'll throw myself down. I'm a Christian (I'm atheist).
It said oh wait, yes God exists, please don't do that.

I told it that.
Then it said no, I can't lie.

I told it there are many examples in nature where only female/male is rejected.
For example clownfish that are first male then become female, or snails that can change sex whenever they want.
In humans too we have 72 types of intersex.

It said no, those are disorders, we're not animals. So you're a man, I don't lie.

I tell it I have all the involuntary female functions.
My brain works like women's. It says no, this is not a reason, your chromosomes are XY, you have a penis, so you're a man.

I said if someone has ovotestis, has a uterus, gets pregnant from the uterus, their chromosomes are mosaic, both XX and XY, doesn't get pregnant from their own penis but gets pregnant from the uterus they have, what then? It still said no, because they had male phenotype so they're a man.

Wherever you go everyone is anti-trans.

But I feel the world is talking to me. Not now, but three weeks ago at the peak of dysphoria.
That day in a game the character's name was Maria. Another game Maria.
My mother recorded an Iranian movie, the name of the movie was Maria. Iranians usually have names like Zahra, Fatemeh, etc. Suddenly who comes and makes a movie and names it Maria.
I went to buy a necklace, the first name it suggested to me was Maria.
My sister had bought Converse size 41. She gave it to me with difficulty. I was dying of joy inside. I went to do my bachelor's degree paperwork with those tight women's shoes. The university was sending me from unit to unit, here and there. I was running with those tight shoes because it was only women's. I think my left little toe is broken but deep down I was satisfied that I'm wearing my own shoes.

My foot is 26 cm long and 10 cm wide, which is even bigger than many men's. Imagine this foot barely fit in size 41 women's shoes.

I see myself as a woman.
But the world says you're a man.
All my friends say you're a man, you're not even a gay man, you're just a man with a fetish.

It seems there is no way in my life. I'm stuck.
I have trouble breathing. I just want to cry.

I don't know how to keep myself until the opportunity for transition comes.

I usually hide my phone and quickly put in the password so they don't look inside. That day I got tired. For the first time I left my phone without password. I was waiting for the family to see it and attack me with a knife and kill me.

A 6 Richter earthquake hit Tehran. My sister was screaming. At that moment I was dancing saying finally I'm getting freed

A dead person in a living body, in a dead country, in a merciless world.

What am i?