"Wrong" 2012-06-27 - 5:12 a.m.

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All the people I've come to rely on have become my biggest fear.

All I want to do is talk to someone about this.

Have it be out there, so I can talk about it.

You know me, I love to fucking talk about shit that's bothering me.

But that's exactly what I'm afraid of, is what my support system will think.

If it were just me, in a vacuum; didn't know anyone, I wouldn't be having this problem.

Shit, it's too bad I have people who care about me.

Ha.

I... am pretty sure they'll all accept me.

But God, if this goes wrong it'll go so wrong.

End friendships. Relationships.

Change my whole life.

On top of changing my body.

I just keep thinking: could I go on as a guy?

Just shove it inside

or try some half-measure.

Go back to shaving all my body hair, crossdress on special occasions.

And the answer is no.

I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

I can say "no" this time, put it on the shelf like I always do.

But it won't go away, it'll come back.

And then what?

I'll be one of those guys who gets the surgery at 50.

No, if I'm gonna do this it has to be now.

Or at least it should be now.

Within the next five years at the very least.

But why fucking wait?

No time like the present and all that.

But God, I could lose my parents.

All my friends.

G___.

everything.

Of course, not my job.

They can't fire me for that, or else I get to sue them for enough money to cover the operation.

I'd still have that pathetic joke, even if I lost everything else.

I made an appointment with a psychologist yesterday morning.

For next monday.

I'll have someone to talk to, someone who can offer guidance.

For the low, low price of $75 a session.

In spite of everything else I was so happy that I was positively bouncy at work.

Despite being physically ill.

Now I just have to make it to monday holding it all inside.

When I'm alone, I spend all my time feeling like screaming, wishing I could talk to someone.

But now I'm going to spend the next couple days with the love of my life, and that's worse.

Because then I have to pretend like nothing's wrong.

The thing I've always wanted has become warped and painful.

I'm the best at this.

I win at life. All the time. Forever.

Even though I want to tell her, consequences be damned; her dog just died.

Last night. In her arms.

What am I supposed to do?

Say: "Hey my love, I know your dog just died, and that's hard; but guess what?

I want to have my penis chopped off and grow boobs.

Feel like dyking it up?"

Jesus.

Talk about lousy timing.

Just gotta hold out til monday.

Monday monday monday.

I wonder what I'll be sad about next?

After all this is over with, for better or worse.

After I go through with all of it and G___'s still with me and my parents and friends still support me, and all this worrying was for nothing; and I finally have everything I want;

what will I find then to come back to diaryland and bitch about all drunk?

Because it'll always be something.

I will always find something.

now that I have found someone

I'm feeling more alone than I ever have before

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