"The Con" 2012-06-26 - 2:41 a.m.

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Just realized my last entry missed the ten year anniversary mark by one day.

Haha.

So yeah, after a year with my love I'm back to getting drunk and listening to sad music by myself; and posting on diaryland.

The relationship's fine.

As far as I know anyway.

Maybe she's cheating on me or secretly miserable or some shit. Who knows?

But basically after a lifetime of struggling with this shit; I've decided to pursue gender reassignment surgery.

I don't think I've ever mentioned it in here, which is odd.

But basically ever since I was a little kid and found out "sex changes" were real it's been in my head.

At various points in my life it's consumed me.

I'll spend nights using the wish that I'll wake up a girl to put myself to sleep.

It's manifested more publicly in various ways.

My obsession with glam rock.

My brief tangent into thinking I was gay.

Which, ironically I guess I would be if I were to go through with this.

Or depending on how you look at things I really am, given my internal gender.

Or whatever the terminology is.

I don't know.

Either way it's been something that's in my head, and it never really goes away. It just gets buried for a while.

It's been getting stronger and stronger.

A famous magazine that's also the name of a british rock band published a story about a musician who's undergoing grs.

He's married with a child; and tattooed and into punk rock; and after the surgery he's going to stay with his wife and he's still attracted to her.

It was the story that finally made me think I could do that.

Most stories you hear the person's more... well, gay.

They're attracted to men and they're all about pop music and all the stereotypical bullshit.

And no matter how much I've wanted to be a woman in my life, those stories never connected with me.

In that weird human nature way that we need someone else to do it first.

So I put grs on the shelf as something I could only dream of. Like hitting the lottery or exploring the stars.

But reading that story...

it flipped the switch.

The thoughts and feelings came rushing back, and they burned and grew for a month;

and I made the decision.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to call around to local tg friendly psychologists and price check and see about making an appointment.

The first step.

And... I'm fucking terrified.

By the same things that have always stopped me in the past.

Telling my family.

My friends.

My coworkers.

Now my girlfriend.

I don't know, this latest time, the desire outweighs the doubt; and that's why I'm taking steps.

But it doesn't mean the fear is gone.

G___ is the hardest.

Not that I don't think she'd accept me.

I'm like 80% sure she'll support me and stay with me.

But once I tell her that I want to do this, it'll be in her head forever.

And if I get to the psychologist, and they talk me down; or...

fucking whatever would happen that would stop me from doing this;

she'll always know I wanted to be a woman.

I don't want to do that to her.

If for whatever reason I can't,

I'd rather her just think of me as her husband; as the father to her children.

not always wondering if I'm trying on her clothes when she's not there.

I don't know, I'm probably just making up excuses.

Giving myself a reason to prolong things and be all miserable and dramatic.

I've always fucking done that.

But right now the plan is to see the psychologist, and if I can get that letter; the one to the medical doctors saying I have gender dysphoria; then I'll start telling people.

Starting with her.

Until then, it's fucking awful.

I feel miserable.

Hiding this from her.

The person I want to share my life with, and -right now- the biggest thing in my life I can't so much as talk to her about.

It creates such a disconnect.

This wall, this pressure to not let anything slip.

The fear.

Of her.

Of her, of all people.

It makes me sick.

I hate myself for it.

I'm drinking and acting like before I met her, and it's awful.

But...

I don't know.

I want to be a woman.

I...

everything I say about it feels so cliche.

Like I'm fucking buffalo bill or some shit.

even in my own diary I doubt and censor myself

but yeah, the thing I want most in my life I'm lying about to the person I love most

that legitimately sucks, no matter how you look at it.

the truth hurts so bad, wouldn't you say?

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