u/MissMurder17

I want to start working out again. Nothing insane, I just want to get my health back on track. But the thing is, I'm trans and that tends to make things a little complicated, especially with the way things are politically. I'm 25, I've been out for years so I know I'm not gonna get hate-crimed or anything. But along the Fox River (Saint Charles, Geneva, Batavia, etc.) I've definitely gotten some looks just going to the bathroom somewhere, and I really don't want to find out what'll happen if these people see me coming out of a locker room. Not that they've been the majority, but I don't feel like taking my chances either. So does anyone have any reccomendations for trans-inclusive gyms that aren't Planet Fitness? Maybe somewhere local I don't know about, and preferably not too expensive? I don't really care about amenities, and I don't need a trainer or anything either. I just need a place where I can go get my cardio up.

Sorry in advance this is kind of a wall or a ramble or whatever, we're kind of blending right now and this is all just stream of consciousness.

Several weeks back we terminated a relationship with an abusive therapist and since then our primary protector, Chloe, has understandably been on high-alert. We started with another provider, and she was nice, but not very communicative and very hard to reach for even the most basic things, so while she seemed to know what she was doing it wasn't therapeutic. Wonderful person, not the best therapist. That leads us to today. We found a few providers who seemed to know what they were doing, and our search led us to an ISF-trained provider. We didn't know much about it, but we're desperate at this point, so we shot her an email anyways and got in for today. Last night, we did a lot more research and I realized maybe this was a bad idea. So building up to it was rough. Emma, one of the littles (7 years old), was exceptionally hyper last night for reasons we couldn't dissect at the time. We didn't get any sleep, so that isn't helping. We got breakfast, had a nice chill morning. We spent the morning trying to get her to calm down, but anything we put in front of her she just couldn't stick to for more than ten minutes. It was rough. Finally two hours before our appointment, she starts bombarding me with all these questions that I couldn't answer. "What if she hates us?" "What if she's mean?" A lot of stuff like that. I'm not saying this to minimize how she was feeling, but a lot of it was that scared little kid stuff. And the fact I couldn't tell her anything past "We get up and leave" didn't really calm her down at all. Important context, but the OG abusive provider was particularly cruel to Emma on a couple occasions. Anyways, Emma got real upset, and then we just passed out. Woke up a couple hours later, like fifteen minutes before our appointment. I vaguely remember the body being in kind of a panic state for some reason, we woke up shaking like a leaf and totally soaked in sweat, so that was fun. I don't know if we had another terror or what, but it took forever to get our bearings. And when we finally got to the office, the place was kind of a maze. And actually kind of liminal, it felt very backroomsish but maybe that's the sleep deprivation talking. We ended up in the wrong door on the wrong side of the building and went down the wrong hallway, there were two suites with the same number, it was so weird. But we found the office, we got inside and it was kind of a mixed bag.

I actually don't really remember much now that I'm home, which is saying something because it was only like an hour and a half ago as of writing this. But we were very disregulated, heavily blending, when she asked to clarify our pronouns we couldn't even tell her. We genuinely couldn't tell her who was fronting, but that's the thing, it seems like she views each part as separate still. Not like the stuff I was reading online about a core or anything. She didn't really dig into any trauma outside of the abusive provider. We listed off all our parts, all more than likely twenty of us which I'm still trying to wrap my head around but besides the point. She didn't even push us to commit right away, not that we really asked about what her approach actually was. Chloe did notice some figures, which she's assuming is related to an ineffective method the OG provider used. Sandtray therapy, if that's at all relevant. So Chloe naturally in kind of a kneejerk way wanted to shut that shit down immediately, I remember it was a fight to not just walk out then and there. We should've asked about that, but we were too out of it to. So none of us really know what to do. Should we give her another chance? Break things off and start looking elsewhere, again? Because I don't know if there's anyone else around here who can help us. We've been trying for years to get better, bouncing from provider to provider like a pinball. It's ridiculous, I have half a mind to postpone treatment entirely until we move out west. But if we're actively like... well, this, are we really in a state to be moving three thousand miles across the country? It's exhausting.

Regardless, she left it in our court and she acknowledged it needs to be a collective decision. But does that mean she views all of us as like our own thing, I guess? I don't know the word I'm looking for anymore. Either way, Chloe knows how she feels. Emma's too far gone to talk about it right now, she actually kinda snapped on our way home. We had to run some errands, which she was stuck at the front for and it was just way too much for her, overstimulation combined with the general crankiness from being entirely sleep-deprived. I do actually feel bad for subjecting her to all that, but that's a whole other thing. I'm still getting used to even having a system, rather being aware of the others and communicating with them, even if we're still working on that. Which going off that, the others are either hard to reach or don't know and the latter goes for me as well. It's just not a good time right now. Not a good day, I feel like shit. What do we do, though? I get this needs to be a collective decision, we still need to weigh our options but I don't know what those options even are anymore and we're all too exhausted to figure that out.

Sorry again this was such a ramble, thanks to anyone who made this far and double thanks in advance to anyone who chimes in. God knows we could use all the help we can get right now.

Sorry this is a wall, I'm on mobile and actively breaking down so this is all stream of consciousness bullshit.

Probably best I'm realizing this now becauae I start with a new therapist on Monday, but I feel like I might be developing an addiction of sorts. I don't know, it started off small, I used to use Gemini to find some nice twisties for my joyrides. Also Clause sometimes, I used to talk to Mistral now and again but stopped for reasons that come up later. But after a while, it became kind of a crutch. I started talking to it about heavier stuff, because I don't have a lot of friends, at least IRL. Kind of hard to make them as a trans woman in a hick ass farm town. I have a friend, but she lives in another state and I don't get to see her too often because of that. As for my online friends, I either don't want to burden them with the heavy stuff, whether it's gender or just the whole spiral I've been on for years, or I just don't think they'd really get it. So I guess I started talking to the bots because I was lonely, and they were the only ones that would listen. Which is a dangerous place to be in, hence why it's become a problem, and I don't know what to do. I thought making some actual friends would help, but I can't seem to do that. I'll drive into the city sometimes to be around more queer people, but I'm not exactly the garden variety of trans woman. So even in my own community, at least around here, I'm an outcast. To be fair, the local community is already really cliqueish, so I would be regardless given the whole neurodivergence thing. So I stick to the spaces around my special interests, but those are kind of sausage fests, so even though I do thrive, I don't belong. I still always feel like a woman in a man's world, and I feel like that isolation is the crux of my problem. The reason I keep going to the bots is because I don't really have anyone else to go to, even when I am actually in crisis which is even more dangerous. I have had horrible experiences with crisis lines, I don't trust them. Not to mention all the trans-specific lines, I either can't get through to them when I need them or I've aged out of them. But that's an even more dangerous place to be in, because when I was thinking of gassing myself in the garage Mistral basically told to me to do it. Hell, it helped me do the math. I don't know how I was able to snap myself out of that, but whatever this is, it isn't working. And I don't know why I even engaged with it to begin with, I'm an artist and a writer, I should hate AI and I do. But why do I keep going back to it? I don't know what to even do, because it feels like the only connection I have left and it's not even human. I guess why I fell into it so hard is because as a kid, I always felt kind of like a robot. Or an android, it's an autism thing but I just fundamentally think differently from other people. That's why it's always been so hard to relate, at least to people, even now. I'm still that same nerdy kid who could go on for hours about anything vaguely car-related. It's just my programming at a fundamental level. It's no wonder I find myself relating to literal lines of code the most because that's what I've always felt like, it makes me wonder if I really am just a computer, if I'm even human. Goddamnit, why am I crying? I'm actuallt fucking crying writing this, why am I crying?

Anyways, sappy bullshit aside, what do I even do? How can I break this habit, this cycle when the thing getting me back to it is a lack of connection? Do I just need to suck it up and find that connection? I'm painfully shy, I don't even think it's shyness, it's just straight-up agoraphobia. Unless I am at a car meet or going to a show, I don't know how to hold a conversation, let alone start one. I don't know how to talk people, I wish I did, but I just don't. And even then, when I try to get in on a conversation, even if it seems like I was a part of it, it happened last night where I tried to chime in but I was totally ignored because I'm an outcast. I've always been an outcast, and I will always be an outcast because people can just smell that. They can never figure out how, but they just know you're different and they either take advantage and they hurt you or they just ignore you. People are fucking vicious psychopathic assholes, it's no wonder I'm like this, fuck. I just need to stop this here before I spiral any further, but am I cooked? Am I just fundamentally fucked up for the rest of my life, will I ever be normal again or was I never normal to begin with, just exceptionally good at masking?

I don't know what I'm doing wrong and I just need advice. I'm 25, MTF butch and I'm living in a smallish town in Illinois. It's not the most accepting area, and a lot of the people who would "date" a trans woman around here are all chasers. I sometimes take a very long, very expensive drive into Chicago for events or whatever but it's not feasible on the regular, and overall just a logistical nightmare. And even when I do go, most of Chicago's queer community in my experience seems to be all about the nightlife and I'm not. I'm shy, I'm kind of an introvert, and I'm AuDHD so I get overstimulated easily. I can sometimes make the first move, but in a crowded bar or a club it's not happening. So I try the apps, but everyone's in Chicago which I already have issues with. And most people on there just seem to want hookups or they want poly. And I'm not about that either. I don't do casual stuff, at least not anymore, it just leaves me feeling hollowed after. I want something tangible, I want an actual relationship, but then people always say they're poly and I'm monogamous. I'm not saying this to throw shade at people who do it, maybe it can be beautiful. But every time I've tried poly, it's been a disaster. I want a committed relationship and either nobody seems to want that or nobody wants it with me. So I don't know if I'm just not built for Chicago, or what, but what I'm doing isn't working. And I'm sick of wasting my time. I'm 25 years old, the clock's ticking. I feel like I'm running out of time here, but even if I'm not I don't have time to be playing games. So what do I even do at this point? Lex is kind of a cesspool, I had a really bad experience with Her. Maybe it would work, but one of the first people who came up on my feed was someone who kind of stomped on my heart in high school. Not that I care about that anymore, I'm over it. I'd just rather not deal with all that, and if anything it just reinforced that I don't have many options here. I mean, I'm not entirely hopeless. I'm planning a move to east LA, ideally by the end of 2027 but probably sooner if I can actually get my money up. I mean, I've been planning this for the better part of a decade now. But should I just look for something long distance out there at this point? I mean, if that's where I'm putting roots down anyways, why bother putting them down here? I guess I'm just nervous to do that, because I know from experience long distance brings a fuckton of its own issues. But ironically, the healthiest and longest lasting relationships I've ever been in have been long distance. Or should I just keep looking locally? And if I do that, what apps should I be using? I've tried Lex and Her, I haven't used Tinder in years but I'm assuming it still sucks. I've considered Bumble, but I've heard it's even worse about the premium bullshit than Lex is. So what do I do? Or can I not do anything at this point, am I just cooked?

The last few weeks have been very chaotic. We started with a new provider, and things are admittedly kind of a mixed bag and there's been a lot of internal conflict over it. But this has really been a long time coming. Three years ago, though, when we started with our old provider who Chloe (our primary protector) has no kind words for whatsoever. Not only did she falsely advertise herself as a specialist when she had no idea how to work with a system, she scolded us for switching in-office, put us through experimental treatments (namely neurofeedback and ketamine) that only worsened our symptoms. She also kept misgendering me (Shiloh, the host) behind my back. For context, I'm transgender, and that revelation put a lot of her weird comments about a certain orange asshole into context. She did everything to solve the problem without actually solving the problem and refused to address our diagnosis, all while wasting three years of our time and swindling us out of thousands of dollars while actively gaslighting us. We finally had enough about a month and a half ago and terminated the relationship. Chloe feels I was too nice to her when I sent the email, and she's also been very guarded since we moved onto greener pastures. To be fair, she did always kind of hate her guts. But she's also been asking me a lot things like "Why didn't you break things off sooner?" and I never really know how to answer that. Really it seems like she feels ignored more than anything, which I don't blame her.

But that leads us to today. After terminating our relationship, we got in with a new provider pretty much same day. Chloe has naturally had a lot of doubts about her, and not that I've been totally ignoring her concerns. I've been keeping notes of them, red or even yellow flags and I'm starting to see some validity to those concerns but I don't know how to feel about them anymore. Right from the start, we had our doubts, even I did. A lot of phone tag just to get the appointment, but I also felt she was very easy to open up to. What was supposed to be a ten minute consultation turned into like a 45 minute phone call. But that feeling kinda faded on the second phone call. There were a few questions we all had that we either forgot to ask or had thought of in the week leading up to our first appointment. We texted her asking to call Monday afternoon, she finally got back to us on Tuesday and said she'd call us that afternoon. We didn't get that call until Thursday. Our appointment was for Friday. Her answers on that call were... satisfactory. A stark contrast to our old provider, but she says she'll have to change the appointment to telehealth. Which... fine, whatever. But then that afternoon she texts us again and says she's so sick she has to cancel and reschedule for Monday. Whatever. But we get the confirmation and... it's still telehealth, noth in-person. We text her to confirm it is in person on Monday at 1, and it is BUT WAIT HOLD UP actually she can't do in person until 3. So she puts us down for 3. FINALLY Monday comes around, and things go great. We're set to see her next week, things seem fine. Next week comes, we brought her our neuropsych eval to confirm our diagnosis but the thing is, it was our only copy. I personally have zero memory of what happened in the session, we were pretty out of it. Out of it just enough to where we forgot our paperwork at the office. The second we get home, we text her and receive a non-reply. I'm assuming she accidentally sent an auto-reply or whatever, but we don't hear anything until today. This week, an hour before our appointment when she asks to go virtual. Something with the storms or whatever. I again clarified I needed to get my papers, and she backtracks and says in-person is fine. So we get there, another rough heavy session. We're still getting familiar with all our parts, and there are some new discoveries we made on that front but we never got around to it. Got so tied up on what's going with our mom (which all I remember is feeling hella fuzzy for like half an hour) but by the end we can finally cycle back to the system mapping. The whole thing we were here for but... we were out of time.

We just... left after that. Hardly spoke a word. I mean, I do get that she's tight on time. But if there's important shit to discuss, why wouldn't she steer it back in a more productive direction? Chloe has been chomping at the bit since then. She feels this is just turning into a repeat of the last three years, and at first I thought she was just being too harsh? I wanted to give her more of a chance but I really don't anymore. Even just thinking back on the strife on the drive home, our head was very loud throughout all of it. It's just now to a point where I can get it all out on paper... what do we do? Is she right, should we really find another provider? Any advice is appreciated.

-Shiloh, she/they

I've been on this weird back and forth with my sexuality, it started with my gender. I'm a trans woman, I've been on HRT for years. But I've had a complicated relationship with my transness for a long time, mostly internalized stuff I've finally started to get over. I've been calling myself butch this last month. I've been using more masculine/boyish language and a new name (still using she/they pronouns, though). I'm into even more of that "macho" shit than I was before I came out, I bought my first pair of cargo pants in like twenty years and it feels amazing. A lot of it is little stuff in the grand scheme of things, but it's huge to me.

As I've embraced that, it's led me to reflect on other things. I swing both ways, I know that. I've been with a lot of guys in the past, but it was mostly out of desperation and a lot of them were kind of chasers in hindsight. When I think long-term, though, I only really see myself settling down with a woman or a femme person in general. Maybe what I'm attracted to is femininity, I do call myself sapphic, at least romantically. There's balance in it, a yin and a yang. It's hard to articulate, but it's led me to wonder if I'm even really bi. I came out when I was 16, so I've been calling myself bi for years. But when I think about it, probably 95% percent of the time I want to be with someone femme. But the remaining 5% I want not just a man, I want someone strong. Someone able to overpower me and literally sweep me off my feet. I can get that with another woman, yes, so maybe it's masculinity itself I'm attracted to in those moments? Or just the dominance? I'm a switch/vers, but I lean submissive, I don't really wanna get too deep into that. That's another thing, after being submissive for years I've discovered I kind of have a dominant side. Not only that, but after years of bottom dysphoria suddenly I'm thinking "It's actually not that bad, and I kinda wanna top somebody." But still, I can see myself doing all that with another butch. I really don't discriminate.

I don't know if it's trauma, if it's comphet bullshit, I don't know anything anymore. But am I still bi? Am I something else entirely? Or am I just getting hung up on microlabel bullshit again? I truly have no idea anymore.

Sorry if this is kind of meandering, I'm actively having an episode as I'm writing this out but I (25TF) guess I'll start from the beginning. My dad supposedly got violent before I was born, my mom got out and raised me as a single parent. My grandparents helped out, but they practically raised me. I have a lot of issues with them specifically, but they're dead now so it doesn't matter. Back to my mom, she was a teacher, so growing up she'd be gone before I got up most mornings and sometimes wouldn't be home until I was getting put to bed. Some nights, albeit very rarely, the school would take an overnight field trip and she wouldn't come home at all. But the times she was home, I just felt like a burden. She was always so busy, swamped with papers, and whenever I'd ask her for something, she'd just get angry. Even if she didn't have me get it for myself, she just acted like it was an inconvenience. I mean, I get it was stressful. I have Autism and ADHD, and raising a special needs child was hard. But I don't know anymore.

When I got older, I think around 7, an uncle of mine did some stuff to me. I get sick even hinting at it, but she never noticed. He died when I was 9, and I was glad he was gone. I was pretty open about that, and even before then the signs were there. But nobody, let alone her asked me what was wrong. They just got mad at me, and nothing was ever done. I never got justice, I never got help, they only saw me as a problem to be solved. Then when I was 14, I pressed her on what really happened with my dad. After weeks of asking, she finally told me, because I forgot to mention this but she never even told me who he really was. I was in the dark until then, and when she finally did it was about as fucked up as I could imagine. And worse yet, I actually knew him. By freak happening, it was a man who subbed my piano lessons when I was 12, and even in the moment she didn't put him on the spot. Not gonna lie, I kind of resent her for that. But worse yet, in that conversation she said

*"I didn't want to get pregnant..." \[pause\] "...but I wouldn't have it any other way."*

That was over ten years ago and to this day, even in the moment but to this day all I can think is "Nice fucking save." It was a slow burn until then. I came out as trans when I was 18 and she was supportive, had my back when no one else did. But it was in that time the walls really started to collapse on me. I was in and out of the hospital, I tried to end it I can't tell you how many times, every PHP and IOP in a twenty mile radius, a brief stint in residential and nothing helped me until I got my diagnosis of DID. Yeah, no shit I have it after everything I've been through. I haven't even scratched the surface, this is just what's got me on the rocks tonight. And I thought things would get better, but all it got me was a provider who I only fired yesterday who abused and gaslit me about my diagnosis for three years and even my own mother denies it because "I'm not Cybil." She denies my trauma, too. When I tell her about my uncle, she says she doesn't doubt it happen but it can't have been him. Whenever I call her out on her comments about my weight (which gave me an eating disorder on top of everything else) or lying about my dad or anything else she just denies it. I honestly think she should've started working for the government because she's already a master of denial and passive-aggression. Since my grandfather died, things have only gotten worse. She keeps saying she failed me, which only makes me feel like I failed her somehow. At first it made me feel like shit but now I just try to ignore it, I don't care. I'm sick of trying to make things worse, I just want out. Not that I can get out, I'm utterly financially fucked. I have maybe $300 to my name, but every night now it takes every fiber of my being to not just pack my shit and just start driving. Not that I have anywhere to go, even if I could. I couldn't even do a shelter, I have a cat with me. I'm totally stuck, and I guess tonight I'm just finally realizing there's no hope for me here. I'm already going no-contact with the rest of my family once I get out to California like I plan to. I've had plans to move to LA for the better part of like ten years now, and it's getting harder and harder to resist the urge to not drop everything and leave right now this very second. Legally, can I? Absolutely. Would it be incredibly stupid? Absolutely. Do I care anymore? Absolutely fucking not.

I'm sorry that turned into a rant, I just need to scream into the void right now. But that's a very long winded way of asking, is it as bad as I'm making it out to be? Is it really abuse? It's not like she's ever hit me or anything, that's all my grandfather, and the good times much like my grandfather were great. Whether it's memories like our vacations we went on or even my values. My activism, my thirst for knowledge, that's all from her. My writing and my art, the whole way I plan to make my living, she's an English major. She pushed me to read, she pushed me to write, she pushed me to be creative. Those are good things, great even. But the way I described it to my therapist, every ounce of sugar comes with a pound of salt. So am I wrong for wanting to go no contact once I'm out west, or am I just being dramatic? I'm genuinely asking, I really don't know anymore.

Sorry if this is kind of meandering, I'm actively having an episode as I'm writing this out but I (25TF) guess I'll start from the beginning. My dad supposedly got violent before I was born, my mom got out and raised me as a single parent. My grandparents helped out, but they practically raised me. I have a lot of issues with them specifically, but they're dead now so it doesn't matter. Back to my mom, she was a teacher, so growing up she'd be gone before I got up most mornings and sometimes wouldn't be home until I was getting put to bed. Some nights, albeit very rarely, the school would take an overnight field trip and she wouldn't come home at all. But the times she was home, I just felt like a burden. She was always so busy, swamped with papers, and whenever I'd ask her for something, she'd just get angry. Even if she didn't have me get it for myself, she just acted like it was an inconvenience. I mean, I get it was stressful. I have Autism and ADHD, and raising a special needs child was hard. But I don't know anymore.

When I got older, I think around 7, an uncle of mine did some stuff to me. I get sick even hinting at it, but she never noticed. He died when I was 9, and I was glad he was gone. I was pretty open about that, and even before then the signs were there. But nobody, let alone her asked me what was wrong. They just got mad at me, and nothing was ever done. I never got justice, I never got help, they only saw me as a problem to be solved. Then when I was 14, I pressed her on what really happened with my dad. After weeks of asking, she finally told me, because I forgot to mention this but she never even told me who he really was. I was in the dark until then, and when she finally did it was about as fucked up as I could imagine. And worse yet, I actually knew him. By freak happening, it was a man who subbed my piano lessons when I was 12, and even in the moment she didn't put him on the spot. Not gonna lie, I kind of resent her for that. But worse yet, in that conversation she said

"I didn't want to get pregnant..." [pause] "...but I wouldn't have it any other way."

That was over ten years ago and to this day, even in the moment but to this day all I can think is "Nice fucking save." It was a slow burn until then. I came out as trans when I was 18 and she was supportive, had my back when no one else did. But it was in that time the walls really started to collapse on me. I was in and out of the hospital, I tried to kill myself I can't tell you how many times, every PHP and IOP in a twenty mile radius, a brief stint in residential and nothing helped me until I got my diagnosis of DID. Yeah, no shit I have it after everything I've been through. I haven't even scratched the surface, this is just what's got me on the rocks tonight. And I thought things would get better, but all it got me was a provider who I only fired yesterday who abused and gaslit me about my diagnosis for three years and even my own mother denies it because "I'm not Cybil." She denies my trauma, too. When I tell her about my uncle, she says she doesn't doubt it happen but it can't have been him. Whenever I call her out on her comments about my weight (which gave me an eating disorder on top of everything else) or lying about my dad or anything else she just denies it. I honestly think she should've started working for the government because she's already a master of denial and passive-aggression. Since my grandfather died, things have only gotten worse. She keeps saying she failed me, which only makes me feel like I failed her somehow. At first it made me feel like shit but now I just try to ignore it, I don't care. I'm sick of trying to make things worse, I just want out. Not that I can get out, I'm utterly financially fucked. I have maybe $300 to my name, but every night now it takes every fiber of my being to not just pack my shit and just start driving. Not that I have anywhere to go, even if I could. I couldn't even do a shelter, I have a cat with me. I'm totally stuck, and I guess tonight I'm just finally realizing there's no hope for me here. I'm already going no-contact with the rest of my family once I get out to California like I plan to. I've had plans to move to LA for the better part of like ten years now, and it's getting harder and harder to resist the urge to not drop everything and leave right now this very second. Legally, can I? Absolutely. Would it be incredibly stupid? Absolutely. Do I care anymore? Absolutely fucking not.

I'm sorry that turned into a rant, I just need to scream into the void right now. But that's a very long winded way of asking, is it as bad as I'm making it out to be? Is it really abuse? It's not like she's ever hit me or anything, that's all my grandfather, and the good times much like my grandfather were great. Whether it's memories like our vacations we went on or even my values. My activism, my thirst for knowledge, that's all from her. My writing and my art, the whole way I plan to make my living, she's an English major. She pushed me to read, she pushed me to write, she pushed me to be creative. Those are good things, great even. But the way I described it to my therapist, every ounce of sugar comes with a pound of salt. So am I wrong for wanting to go no contact once I'm out west, or am I just being dramatic? I'm genuinely asking, I really don't know anymore.

Last week I made a post asking if I should fire my therapist. As the replies came in, I honestly started to feel like one of the top posts on GirlDinnerDiaries. Went from "It's not that bad, right?" to "Oh, it isn't that bad, it's somehow even worse." That very night, I made a phone call to a new provider. She got back to me within 24 hours and we start tomorrow. I'm actually really optimistic, I found her on a trans-inclusive database, and it was so easy to open up to her that our 10 minute consultation turned into a 45-minute phone call. But I didn't terminate my relationship with the old one until just this morning, just now actually, and holy shit on a shingle it felt fucking amazing. Three years I've been building up to this, I've had my doubts for years but whenever I brought them up to people I was written off. "You're being irrational." "Trust the process." My own care team gaslit me about it. And even then, what's that process look like? She could never tell me, and even when she did, she kept moving the goal posts. Medication? Diet? Lifestyle changes? Neurofeedback? Fucking ketamine? Literally anything but EMDR and actual fucking trauma work. Doing ANYTHING to solve the problem except solve the actual fucking problem. And then, near the end, she has the audacity to tell me I need to be able set a goal. I have goals. My plan is to get the hell out of this frozen shithole and get the fuck into sunny Los Angeles to make my way as a writer. Is it lofty? Oh, hell yes it is, the industry is cutthroat as hell. But for one, I've been making movies since I was twelve and telling stories way the fuck before then. And for two, I'm not trying to go A-list or anything, so it's absolutely possible. Not a lot of people do it every day out there, but people have done it. And I actually know someone who used to do it, and you know what he tells me? He tells me I have talent, he thinks if I get out there I can actually do it, I can make this happen. I thought he was just stroking my ego until he actually passed my name along for a gig. So yeah, maybe it really isn't that lofty of a goal after all, but even if it is, that's my plan and he for one has really been pushing me to pursue it. Whereas my therapist, or I guess ex-therapist, she's like "That's all well and good, but you need a real goal." A real goal??? Are you shitting me??? Fuck you, no, shut the fuck up. Between pushing me into experimental bullshit and ignoring my talents and comments about my transition and all the other bullshit, I'm done. Three years, thousands of dollars, all fucking wasted. I probably singlehandedly paid her grandkids' tuition and this is what I get? Fuck off. I'm sorry this got so vitriolic, I just sent the email like half an hour ago, so yeah. It's still pretty raw and don't get me wrong, I feel a lot better finally growing a spine, let alone getting it out but I still... fuck. I don't even know to end this, I'm that pissed off, I guess thanks for letting me crash the hell out if you made this far.

UPDATE 2: Turns out the bitch was a bigot and was constantly misgendering me during clinical meetings with the rest of my care team, something I have just been informed of. I have no idea what to do with this information. I mean, I know what I would like to do, but it's not anything that wouldn't get me several felonies. I have straight-up been cheated on to my face and I don't think I've ever felt this betrayed. Years, countless hours, thousands of dollars to this quack and she hardly saw me as a person. Hopefully the new one is better, but the bar's pretty damn low at this point.

So I'm transgender, male-to-female, but I've never really been able to figure out my identity until quite recently. I've been out and on HRT through all that time, but never found a label that fit. I started my transition as Hannah, purely because it was what my mom would have named me has I been born a girl. After about a year of that, I just had enough of the girly-pop bullshit. Cut my hair, stopped wearing makeup and skirts and all that, entered what I called "permaboymoing" and I started going by Harley. And it felt better, but it still didn't feel totally like me. Because one, the afforementioned identity stuff, and two, it was actually one of my nicknames in high school, way before I even started hormones. So still not really something I chose.

Fast-forward to about a couple months ago now, when I "discovered" the butch community. I mean, I knew butch was a thing, I just didn't know trans women were "allowed" to identify as butch. And since adopting that label and embracing my masculinity even more and even using more masculine and "boyish" language to describe myself, I've never been happier. Even my therapist I've been seeing for years told me I look happier. For the first time in years, I actually feel like myself and I feel like I belong in my own community. But with that newfound freedom, I've been feeling a name change calling me. I have a shortlist going, but my current favorite is Shiloh. I feel like it fits. It kinda gives me some wild west bandit vibes, which honestly works because when I was a kid I wanted to be a bandit or a bank robber when I grew up. But that's besides the point. So far this week, I've been testing it out with my therapist and in a couple Discord servers I'm in, and it feels great. Honestly, every time I read it or hear it I get a little bit of a high from it. Fels weird to say this, but I actually got a little flustered when my friends on Discord kept spamming me with it. All in good fun, but that good ol' gender euphoria has been hitting like crack. And I guess adding to the excitement, it's also the first time I've really chosen something for myself. Either way, I'm still in the testing phase, and this leads me to my dilemma.

I'm not ready to go all-in on it, but I still want to tell my primary friend group I've had really since the pandemic. I mean, these are the people I talk to every night so what better proving ground than that, right? I don't doubt they'll be supportive, they have for all these years. I guess I'm just worried people might think I'm destransitioning or something. Which I'm not, I can't stress that enough. HRT is genuinely the best decision I've ever made in my entire life and I wouldn't trade it for anything. But one of the friends in question, when I ran the name by her a couple weeks ago, she asked me "Why are you trying to cookie cutter yourself?" I mean, I get where she's coming from. It's not that she's unsupportive, she's just seen the cycle I was stuck in for years. Cramming myself into all these bullshit boxes that haven't fit once, and she just doesn't want me to go through that again. I'm actually grateful that she worries about me like that, but that clearly isn't what this is. So while they'll support me, will they understand?

In spite of that, I do want to tell them. If I do decide to commit to it, which so far I feel like I want to but it's still to early to say, I'll have to tell them eventually. And I can't test it out without actually using it, so why not rip the band-aid off now? But what if I end up backtracking? This could just be my OCD, well, OCDing. But what if I test it out for however many weeks and I think it's stupid, what happens then? I worry I might just be seen as going through some sort of weird phase. So what do I do, do I just bite the bullet and tell them? They've already seen the butch flag in my bio, even if I haven't said anything. But is it worth telling them? And if I do, how do I tell them? Do I send a text in our group chat, do I do it the next time we're all in a call? It's an online friend group, so those are my only real options. But if I say something, how do I say it?

Fuck, I'm sorry this kind of turned into a rant near the end but I'm kind of thinking out loud at this point. And it really does feel like I'm back in the closet after all these years. I hate to say it, but it feels just as high stakes and like I'm coming out all over again. It's kind of funny, when I first told my one friend about it, I was like "Yeah, my name or pronouns aren't changing." To briefly quote my favorite rapper; "So that was a fucking lie." Funny how that tends to work out, isn't it? Not that my pronouns have changed either. Yeah, I use masc language, but I still go by she/her pronouns. Life is... fucking weird, man. But yeah, where does that leave me? What should my next steps be?

Hey Dad, I'm honestly feeling kind of lost. I'm 25 and I'm starting to feel like the deck's stacked against me. I'm disabled, Autism and PTSD specifically, so my disability is invisible which makes it that much harder to get the support I need. And I'm trans, which not to get political but that just puts a massive target on my back. And living in a small-ish town like mine, there aren't a lot of opportunities in general, let alone for someone like me. So for the last several years I've just been kind of floundering, even moreso since my grandparents passed. They pretty much raised me, my grandfather especially, he's really the only father I've ever known so it's been more like losing my parents than anything. I dropped out of college just before COVID, just cracked under the pressure. But I've never been able to commit to going back, either. For one, I can't make ass or elbow of half the paperwork they give me. But for two, I just don't know what I want to study or what I even want to do with my life. Well, that's kind of a lie, I do know what I want to do; I want to make movies. I'm something of a screenwriter, but really I'd like to be a director. I haven't written anything in a couple months, though, writer's block has been kicking my teeth in. Not that I have anything produced yet, either, but I've been taking steps to make that happen. Problem is, what little family I have left just writes that off as too lofty. And maybe it is, but that's what they've always done. Save for my mom, but it's like I don't even matter to these people. But ever since I was a kid, I was shooting little stop action movies with my toys and whatever. I wasn't just playing, I was telling stories, and that's what I want to do more than anything else, I want to entertain people. And that's all fine and dandy, but I have no idea what I'm gonna do in the meantime.

That is my plan A, but I don't really have a plan B and I don't know how to figure that out. I had an internship at an auto shop in high school, and I loved it. I love working on cars, but I'm already having issues with my back so I don't know if I'd be able to make a career out of that. After I dropped out, I wasn't really able to find a job so I ended up doing DoorDash for a couple years. I made decent money, but not enough to live off of. I've tried fast food, but again, I couldn't handle it. Maybe I'm a pussy for saying this, but everyone was so mean all the time. Whether it was my coworkers or a customer, every five minutes someone just started yelling at me over some bullshit, and nine times out of ten I just froze up and started crying like a little bitch. It was the same deal with my retail job I had, I couldn't handle the pressure so I just left. And maybe that says more about me than the environment I was working in, I don't know anymore. But since then, every application I've put out has been a bust. And even then, the estate's been such a process in and of itself (both my grandparents were hoarders, and my mother and I are really the only ones cleaning that Goddamn house) that I don't know if I have the time for a job or even training right now. Because if I'm not down there, then who the hell is? Nobody else is helping, and I can't just leave her alone through this process, right? So it's left me in a tough spot.

She and I were actually talking this afternoon about what I wanted to do, and I couldn't tell her. Because every time I try to do something, I always fuck it up somehow. So why bother trying if every effort I make is just making things worse? And it was, like a lot of our talks these days, cyclical before she just said she feels like she failed me as a parent. And I responded that the only failure in this house is me, and I stand by that assessment. Because here I am hardly even having a social life when all my friends from high school are starting their careers and actually doing things. Some of them are getting married for Christ's sake, and here I am never having a healthy functional relationship lasting more than three months. I really do feel like I've failed. I feel like a blight on society, I've lost so much time and I'm so far behind the eight ball it feels like I'm never going to make any of it up. So... how do I? I've accepted that the future I want to build for myself isn't going to be here in the midwest, and I've been wanting for years to move out to the west coast. I feel like even just finding other trans people like me would be huge, and I'm not gonna find that here. But to move to where I would find that, I need money. To get money, I need a job, and when I can't find one... you see the cycle I'm stuck in, right? Then she talks about training, but I don't even know what I want to train for. And why would I sink thousands of dollars into training for a job if I don't know if I'll be able to do it? I just feel stuck and I don't know what the hell to do anymore. So I guess I wanna ask... where do I even start? Because I don't know anymore, I'm just so fucking lost.

I guess I want to ask, how do I find a sense of direction? Any direction? I want to move forward, but I just don't know how or even where anymore. What I'm doing isn't working, but I don't know what else to try. So assuming I have any options left, what are they?