Monday, July 5, 2021

Why Does It Feel Like I Will Never Win???

 A few months ago I applies for Disability, for my mental disability. I met all the criteria, sent in all the paperwork they wanted, and was sure I would get approved. Not only did I fill out the form online, and submit it, but they sent me the same form in the mail, which I filled out as well. They also sent another form to me to fill out about my disorder, more thoroughly, like how it affects my day-to-day life. Which I also provided to them. I was checking the process almost daily, but that was like watching paint dry. So I decided to just try and forget that I filled it out. I was supposed to hear from a therapist, according to the paperwork, but that never occurred. I decided since I had waited a while without checking the progress of the application and review, that I would go ahead and look. To my surprise and dismay, I was denied benefits. I understand that this is normal for a first time application. It still brought me down, back into my depression. Maybe I didn't add enough info, or I didn't say the right things. It just gets me into my head, wondering what I have done wrong to get denied. It doesn't help that I have a big issue with rejection. 

Why is it that when I get excited about something benefiting myself, to help myself, that I just get brought back down, because I have to rely on someone else. Someone that doesn't know me, or see how this Disorder affects me. They don't see how crippling going out to pick up groceries is. Even when I don't have to go in the store. They just see that yeah, once I week I drive by myself to get groceries. They don't understand that I cannot drive more than 30 minutes away from my residence alone. I'm not able to visit family in other states, because I don't have someone to ride with me. I don't go out to eat, unless they have a drive-through or delivery, because I can't be surrounded by people, without becoming stressed. I can't handle loud sounds, even from movies, that I've seen multiple times. Jump scares, that I am expecting, still scare me. Talking on phones throws me through a tail spin, even if it's with family or loved ones. Work place environments are filled with so much stress and anxiety that I call out on a regular basis, because I cannot handle it.

How does that not qualify for some sort of benefits, provided by the Government. I'm lucky that I am living somewhere where my rent, gas, utilities, and food are taken care of, or I wouldn't survive as much as I have. But I cannot go to a Doctor, or Dentist, for basic needs, because I don't have the funds to do so. I wouldn't be able to pay family or friends back, if they helped me in a dire need. If I were to have more prescriptions, than I already have, I wouldn't be able to get them filled. I just don't understand how this information is seen, and it's decided that I don't qualify for some sort of assistance. 

Sunday, October 4, 2020

How To Say Two Words (That Will Change Your Life)

     Here I sit, my heart racing, wondering how I can say something that will change my life forever. I've always been a very family-oriented person. I mean, how could I not be, raised with a big family on both sides. I love having family around, including those I have selected as family. How is it that words can altar your relationship with family members? I mean, they aren't horrible words, or words used out of malice. Never the less, saying them can end in many ways. One being really supportive and loving, and the other ending, just ending. How do you tell someone that is supposed to love you unconditionally these words. Especially when they've specifically spoken ill about other people that have said such words. 

     I was raised in a semi-religious household, and many other members of my family had a Christian-based faith. Growing up in the 90's when being gay was starting to be seen more in the media, I would always hear how ungodly, or sinful it was. How little boys shouldn't act like little girls. But also hear that girls can do anything they set their mind to, even act like boys. Boys can't like boys, that's disgusting and a sin. Boys can't like girly colors, can't dress feminine, can't act feminine, can't can't can't can't... But I'm not a boy. Sure, I have male parts, but I'm not male. I've always been female. How is being myself bad? How is it ungodly and sinful? This life isn't something I chose. Who would choose to endure this sort of life? 

     It took me a while to scrub the lies I was taught growing up, and I still hide my true self, even from the ones I came out to. I'm so afraid of being my authentic self, because it will damage relationships that I hold dear. I have those that are supportive and love me. But I have those that have no idea who I really am. I hate that I keep this secret from the ones I love and care about. I feel as if I have no choice. Why has society put down people like me? Why are people being killed for being like me? Why are we hated? Why do people fear us? Why do people think we don't exist, are mentally ill, or abominations? I just don't understand.

     I feel like I have to wait, for the ones I fear rejection from, to die before I can be myself. That shouldn't have to be an option. I shouldn't have to dress a certain way in public, so I don't get abused, harassed and etc. I always hide my feminine belongings when certain family members come to visit, and I shouldn't have to. I shouldn't have to hide who I am. I shouldn't have to placate to this version of me, that they think I am. Why am I so afraid? I have supportive people in my life. Why do I worry that other's, that don't know, will disown and abandon me? Should it matter? If they don't care enough about me, to love and respect me, then why should it matter if they leave?

     There are family members who have passed, that I regret not telling them. They never got to know who I am, who I really am. They only saw me in certain ways. I am afraid to say TWO words to my father. It would kill me to lose him. But it hurts me every time I hear him call me son. I wish I could just tell him, and have no fear of him rejecting me, or disowning me. I don't want to hear how my life is a sin, or I just have a diseased mind. He claims to love me unconditionally, no matter what. I fear there are conditions that would change that. Why should it matter what he thinks? Why does it matter so much to me? I shouldn't care if he doesn't want anything to do with me. 

     Why is it so hard to tell him, "I'm Transgender."

Thursday, August 2, 2018

A Little Shimmer of Hope

I was at work cleaning, when I hear someone asking their child if I was still around the corner. "Is he still over there?" Was the parent's question to her little girl. I hear her whisper back, "That's a girl." I felt so happy to be recognized as what I feel I am. Though I'm not out to the public, I still like being called ma'am, her and she. When the parent asked me her question, then I hear the child ask her mother, "Is that a boy or a girl?". Before the mom could answer, I responded with, "I could be both, you never know." The mom responded very well to my answer, and agreed. She apologized for her daughter's inquisitiveness, and I let her know there isn't any issue. I explained to the girl, that gender isn't just the two that she was taught, that it is a spectrum, it can be anything in between, or nothing at all. The mom smiled and agreed. I am so glad that their are humans out here that are accepting, and understanding. Even in this small, conservative, Bible thumping town. I'm so happy, maybe I can live as my true self here. More to think about.

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Info, Advice, Help

I shared some very personal information yesterday, which is hard to do in person, sometimes even hard online. Someone is always struggling with something that is invisible. Whether it be Depression, Anxiety, Gender Dysphoria, etc. We, as human beings, should be there for one another, give a guiding hand, or a supporting shoulder, for help. Just because you may not think you can, you can help so many people, even with just a smile, common curtesy, just small gestures of kindness. You don’t have to have money to help someone. I’m here to say I’m here for you all, whether it be to listen to your problems, give some advice, etc. I also would like to ask people for the same. If you see something I post, and it seems inaccurate, or you feel like you can help me with the situation I seem to be in, please do. Just leave a comment here, or email me @ calypso_rayne@live.com.

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Good Things to Come? Maybe...

Something I’ve yet to discuss on here, as often as I post, insert sarcasm here, I am Trans. So let’s go way back into the beginning, of where I started to actually remember things, and it’s going to be a little patchy, unfortunately, due to the “hidden” memories. I remember praying, as a child, to wake up as the opposite sex, which was female. I would cry myself to sleep, just knowing if I were a girl, Things would be so much better. I loved “girly” things, dressing up in dresses, being a princess, dolls, makeup, etc. I would always be the mom in house, I’d always pretend to be a girl, when playing with friends, and so on. I had to put that on hold, when my brother was born. He was severely premature, and had multiple health and mental problems. I had to suck it up and “be a man” and stop asking for something that is impossible. Trans wasn’t heard of when I was younger. It was “men” who looked like women, and were mocked and made fun of on shows like Maury, Jerry Springer, Montell Williams, etc. But it never occurred to me what that was, it was just “entertainment”. So, in middle/high school, I was starting to discover my sexuality. Was I Gay, Bi? I knew I wasn’t straight, but there were only two options, that I knew of. I couldn’t tell my family and friends I wasn’t straight, so I didn’t talk about it to them, I just stayed to myself on that matter. I had decided I was Bi, not letting that small glimmer of Herero-safety disappear. I created a MySpace, added my friends, and in the bio, I felt brave enough to list Bisexual as my “Orientation”. Thinking no one would see it... I was severely wrong. Someone, in school, came up to me and asked was it true that I was Bi, I felt embarrassed and just nodded and left it at that. My friend was sitting next to me, in shock. Later that night, I changed it back to Straight. I didn’t find out about Pansexuality until my Junior year, and that term felt right, and it still does. I still haven’t come out to a lot of family and friends, for fear. While in my senior year in High School, I found the “Gay” channel, on the local cable provider’s network, Logo. I would sneak and watch it in my room late at night, just filled with joy, but also fear of getting caught. It was my outlet to my “Gay” side, since I couldn’t share with others. I didn’t have a personal computer to look up anything, or do downloads, or YouTube, etc. So it is what taught me. We had a computer, but it was in the living area, and anyone could walk up behind me and see what I was doing, so anything LGBT or taboo, was way off limits. One night, late at night, and little commercial came on about a new show that was about to premiere, RuPaul’s Drag Race, I was floored. So men can dress like women and look like women??? I was so excited, this was something new and it just wrong right with me. I could be a drag queen, that’s what I am. I can look like a woman, and still be a man. That’s awesome news. I tuned it for the very first episode, which coincidentally was on my Birthday, and fell in love. I still watch the show to this day. I was happy, I finally found something that felt right. But I couldn’t do makeup or dress like a woman, and still live with my parents, they wouldn’t allow it. I would play with my mom’s makeup, which didn’t match my skin tone at all, plus I didn’t have a clue about proper application. I took one look in the mirror and was horrified. I quickly washed my face before anyone could catch me. I decided I’d have to wait to move out and buy my own and learn how to do it properly. My uncle and his wife moved into the trailer on our property. This is my favorite uncle. I had started to build an awesome relationship with his wife, and we all loved RuPaul’s Drag Race. She opened my eyes to the whole LGBT culture, with movies and shows, etc. It was a whole new exciting experience. I confided in them about my pansexuality, and they were very accepting, which was awesome to know. Unfortunately they moved a year later out of state and I was on my own again. In college this time, and working. I met a good friend at my “first job” and bam, we became room mates and I had freedom. I could explore more about myself, and not have to worry about hiding it, fully. He didn’t care and was supportive. I finally had that back in my life. It was amazing. At this point in time, I decided I had two personalities. One male, and one female. They were similar in most things, except the female side took less shit from people and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. My sassiness was thriving and I was living. I had a skirt and bought some heels, and I was just beginning to get comfortable in life. All was right in the world. But something didn’t fit. It’s like a puzzle piece was put in the spot, and it was really close to fitting and even looked right, but it was a little off. My room mate and I did a lot of gaming together and he had friends that would game with us. He had one friend that was Transgender. I hadn’t a clue what that was, and learned that she was born male and transitioned, or at least at that time started the process of transitioning. I wasn’t fully sure that was what I was dealing with, but I felt I definitely wasn’t solely male. I came to terms with myself and decided I identified as both genders, I was Bi-gendered, dual gendered, Two-Spirit. It felt right, and still does. Our year rent lease was coming up and it was offered to me to move up north with my uncle and his wife, and I knew I had to accept. I just remember what it was like to be fully surrounded by acceptance and wanted that again, plus I wouldn’t be constantly around family, that wouldn’t understand, or that I had to hide my true self from. I moved, and it was the best part of my new journey. I was still discovering myself, learning new things, life was finally heading somewhere. I was and have been happy in my Two-Spirit bubble, but I’m started to feel dysphoria. I used to get it every now and then. I’d shave, paint my nails, try and lipstick and my skirt and just lounge about the house and feel fine afterwards. Recently the dysphoria has been getting worse, I’ve been having moments were I hate to look in the mirror or see myself naked. Even changing clothes becomes saddening and horrific. I see body hair were I don’t want it, it just doesn’t feel right. I have parts that just don’t match with my mind, and I’m missing parts that should be there. I, within the last couple years have fully decided I am transgender. I still slightly have a male identity, but I mostly identify as female. I don’t live my life as such, nor have I opened up with a lot of people about it. Only a select few know. Since I’ve been getting my mental health under control, at least one side of it, I need to start working on the other part. Today, I was looking through some photos, and saw how happy I was in the feminine filters on Snapchat, and looking at myself in my phone’s camera feed, I just felt gross, and manly. I decided to look up gender specialists in my area. I expected to see nothing in my town, since I’m in the Bible Belt of America. But I did see some results, which made me happy... but one thing stunned me... I saw the name of my psychiatrist, the one I go to for my PTSD. So I think it’s time to talk with them about my dysphoria and see where it goes. I hope to see a bright future come from this.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

I F*cked Up

There are times when I get so excited about things, that I forget some details. Like offering things that aren't mine, technically mine. In the moment, all I can think about is doing something amazing with friends. I can't wait to show them, and I'm only in the moment. The back of my head is telling me I shouldn't, it isn't mine to give, or share. I shove that voice into a dark corner and stay in my tiny little happy spot. I love to share, and to give. I love seeing others excited and happy, especially from something I did. But I was in the wrong. I accepted the responsibility 100%, for it was solely my idea. The moment, the question was asked, my heart sank, and my body went cold... as it normally does, when I know, I am in trouble. I don't like being in trouble, not just because of the anxiety flares, but I don't like disappointing people that see me a certain way. I've worked hard to build a trust with these people, and I've chipped it. I feel so ashamed and so upset. I couldn't convey it in the moment, just because of my anxiety, it kept me frozen. All I could do was nod and give small responses. I don't like confrontation, even if it doesn't involve me. Though I don't do a lot of things wrongly, as in being in the wrong, I am always afraid of getting into trouble. Whether it be with friends, family, or work. I stay in fear, and that drags me further down into my dark depths of depression and anxiety. Yes, in the moment, I had a notion of knowing I was doing something wrong, but I did not intend any ill-will, or anything harmful by it. I just hope I didn't lose all what I gained... 

Friday, August 18, 2017

What's Wrong with Me?

 I hate the idea of being alone, physically and socially alone. I don't like going without some sort of human interaction. I came from quite the sizeable family, on both maternal and paternal sides. Every day was spent with someone, usually a group of family and friends together. The idea of not having anyone, whether it be friend, romantic partner, and etc, is utterly terrifying. A lot of the times I go out of my way and try to keep people happy, so they will stay in my life. It's like I'm buying their interactions with me. I, in the past, have bought someone a cell phone and minutes, because I didn't want to lose contact with them. That "relationship" ended very poorly. I guess it's true when they say you can't buy happiness. The worse part about the aforementioned incident, is that I cannot afford a lot of things in my life, so when I spend a significant amount of money, it hurts me financially. In the moment I don't care at all, but after it's said and done, I worry about how I am going to get my bills paid. I can't afford another Insufficient Fund Charge. I've never been this bad with my money. With time, I have gotten worse with controlling and budgeting my funds. I can do it, I have done it in the past, but now, it's become quite difficult. Am I spending money to try and fill some sort of "empty space" in my life? Am I trying to distract myself from my mental situation? Am I going to stay broke the rest of my life? These questions pop into my head constantly, and then I go to sleep and they fade away, until I open my wallet the next time. This segment is a little unorganized, but they fit together. Until next time.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Walk A Mile in My Shoes

Sometimes, emotions are overbearing, too over-cumbersome. Some people can handle them day to day. Even I manage to hold it together, most days... and then the other days, oh the other days. I have times where I find it hard to get out of bed. My mind tells me I should just stay in bed, the world can go on without my presence. Depression covers me like a wet blanket, so heavy and overwhelming. A lot of the time I don't understand why I feel the way I do. Why am I crying? Why can't I get out and spend time with friends and family? Then come the anxiety attacks. No one has talked to me, or responded to that last text. Did I do something wrong? Did I upset someone unintentionally? I'm going to lose them forever. They don't love me. They don't care about me. My diagnosis has to be wrong, I can't have PTSD. I must be BiPolar or Schizophrenic, that runs in my family. Are the doctors wrong? Should I even went to something I won't be able to afford? Should I take the medication? Is it really working? All these questions I keep asking myself. On the outside, you wouldn't know what I'm suffering, or that I'm suffering at all. I give off a happy "vibe" and try and remain outward positive. I work hard at making others happy, or getting them to laugh. I smile all the time, but most of the time they are lies. I do need help, and I wish to accept it, but is it worth it? Will it really work?