I don’t know what to do
redheadscientist:
deadlier-than-a-rabbit:
Long story, but I wound up missing two (now three) of my hormone injections due to a lack of funds for more testosterone + needles. It’s been 5 weeks since my last shot. Before this snafu, I was on testosterone for just over a year. (Because it’s been over a month since my last injection, speaking with a medical professional would probably be best, but if you have data that proves otherwise, let me know)
I’ve also moved some 350 miles away from my hormone-prescribing doctor in Los Angeles, and his nurses spent all day blocking me from actually talking to him. He is only in this particular office on Tuesdays, and I have no other way to get hold of him.
Oh, and I also just aged out of my health insurance and I’m flat broke and currently unemployed. So there’s that.
I’m starting to really feel like I’m coming unglued, like I’m slipping back into the godawful depression that defined my life pre-T. I didn’t think I had a hormone imbalance, but the behaviors that had me diagnosed as bipolar are coming back, and strong. Knowing that I have a full vial and more needles than I know what to do with, but can’t use, is making things worse.
I need help. I don’t have any resources up here yet, and looking is starting to make my head hurt. I live in San Jose, California, sort of between Los Gatos and Campbell. I can drive, but I don’t know if I’m up for/can afford going all the way up to San Francisco. I can get down to Santa Cruz pretty easily, too.
If anyone in the Bay Area/with better googlefu than me can just point me in the right direction of low-cost or free help to get back on my medication, that would be wonderful.
signal boost. any of my followers know anything?
Reblogging for the daywalkers. I’m still having trouble finding local places to get help, but I’m reaching out to a couple of places in the City to see if they know anything.
I don’t know what to do
Long story, but I wound up missing two (now three) of my hormone injections due to a lack of funds for more testosterone + needles. It’s been 5 weeks since my last shot. Before this snafu, I was on testosterone for just over a year. (Because it’s been over a month since my last injection, speaking with a medical professional would probably be best, but if you have data that proves otherwise, let me know)
I’ve also moved some 350 miles away from my hormone-prescribing doctor in Los Angeles, and his nurses spent all day blocking me from actually talking to him. He is only in this particular office on Tuesdays, and I have no other way to get hold of him.
Oh, and I also just aged out of my health insurance and I’m flat broke and currently unemployed. So there’s that.
I’m starting to really feel like I’m coming unglued, like I’m slipping back into the godawful depression that defined my life pre-T. I didn’t think I had a hormone imbalance, but the behaviors that had me diagnosed as bipolar are coming back, and strong. Knowing that I have a full vial and more needles than I know what to do with, but can’t use, is making things worse.
I need help. I don’t have any resources up here yet, and looking is starting to make my head hurt. I live in San Jose, California, sort of between Los Gatos and Campbell. I can drive, but I don’t know if I’m up for/can afford going all the way up to San Francisco. I can get down to Santa Cruz pretty easily, too.
If anyone in the Bay Area/with better googlefu than me can just point me in the right direction of low-cost or free help to get back on my medication, that would be wonderful.
sqs-tec:
“Transgender WTF” by Van B.
My final project for a feminist performances class. I chose to do a web comic of myself and how I feel about being trans/what trans means to me.
It’s part of a more extensive project/paper, creating a new trans narrative not based on self/societal hatred or violence, the denial of the former self, etc. Just because I’m a transman doesn’t mean I follow traditional masculinity. (This also extends to transwomen.)
Yes, I paint my nails. I love things that have glitter. I am fabulous.
I am and always will be trans, and I’m proud of that.
We hope you’re enjoying the comics! Van has been invited to create a storyboard with a fellow illustrator/animator, so we’ll see more shortly.
Feel free to reblog/repost, just give Van B. credit! :)
That’s it. I’m doing my nails. Fuck the haters.
"Sometimes I think the best way to understand gender shift is to sing a song of diaspora."
— Jennifer Finney Boylan, She’s Not There
LGBT 30 Day Challenge - Day 12
Your favorite LGTB movie (or one you’d like to see).
I really want to watch Boys Don’t Cry. Also on the list: Romeos, Southern Comfort, and a rewatching of Transgeneration. Part of me wants to watch Becoming Chaz, but I worry about getting angry and throwing things at the screen because his book has (thus far) been tons of unchecked privilege and also quite boring.
I would also love to see a bisexual character/person represented in a documentary that wasn’t reduced to just sex. Please can we let that trope die?
Cosmetic Surgery is absurd.
p-ness:
I think it is absolutely unfair and absurd that any seemingly “normal” human being in the world can walk into a cosmetic surgeon’s office and upon request receive numerous different cosmetic surgeries. They don’t have to go through months to a year of therapy. They don’t have to have a recommendation letter explaining why the are allowed to have the surgery. They just call up a doc, request their aesthetically pleasing surgeries, and BOOM they got it…
So, someone please tell me WHY on earth do transgender/transexual people have to jump through so many fucking hoops to have the surgeries they NEED? By the time I get to the point of having a fucking top surgery letter, I will have already spent about 1/4 to 1/3 of the price that I would have paid had I just been able to request and have the surgery I needed.
Where is this rule written any way? Who made this shit up? Please, someone point me in the right direction.
Reblogging because THIS EXACTLY has been driving me mad over the past few days. Doubly so because these very expensive surgeries are often needed as “proof” that one is enough of a specific gender to change one’s identification. I’m also not to keen on the government telling me that I’m not enough of a man because I decide to opt out of a surgery (SRS in this case) since the risks involved far outweigh the benefits in my mind.
…
Dear socitey,
Make up your mind on surgery. Stop installing gatekeepers for only specific bodies. And please stop caring about what’s underneath my clothes so much. You’re not going to get to see me naked anyway, why should it matter to you what’s underneath there?
Love,
David
LGBT 30 Day Challenge - Day 1
Day 1 - Your sexual orientation or gender identity. Be creative in your definition.
The simple answer to both of these categories is ‘queer’. I identify as queer across the board, especially since I, to borrow from the fantabulous Kate Bornstein, am a traveler through both gender and sexuality. So I’m a queer traveler.
But, wait! There’s more!
‘Queer’ is a pretty big term and my (personal) interpretation of it has morphed over the years (more on that in questions… 2 and 3), so let’s break it down a bit. We’ll start with gender identity since it’s been the more constant of the two.
Gender
First off, (and to quote the amazing Milo) I am not a woman. I have never felt like one, ever. I have worn women’s clothing (quite well, too!), dressed up in corsets and heels and flowing skirts, but I have never identified as a woman. I have used “she” and “her” for so long because I’m used to hearing them, but they don’t fit. Same goes for my birth name, which has been doubly difficult to get the effort to squash because my parents have a lovely little story that goes along with it. More on that on some other day.
Periods are the bane of my existence and I have been fortunate enough to all but get rid of them for most of my life through pills, then shots, and finally an IUD (Mirena). When I was in high school, they were awful. I would spend days curled up in pain, unable to move. I was so happy to be rid of the pain and mess that I was willing to put up with the hormones fucking with my head. And they were doing some major fucking around. Almost two months ago, I had surgery to remove several ovarian cysts (see?! I hate my reproductive organs and they hate me!) and my IUD came out at the same time. I haven’t replaced it yet, nor have I started taking other forms of birth control. My head feels so much… clearer. The bipolar symptoms that I’ve been dealing with since high school have lessened dramatically. But I’m bleeding again, and I hate it more than ever. It doesn’t feel right. I’m a genetic dead end. I will never produce children, why should I suffer through this exercise in pain tolerance and stain management? I am seriously considering a hysterectomy. I am not my uterus.
Breasts are a slightly happier subject. I love boobs. They’re soft and pretty and make great kneading material and pillows. And I love a good chest massage. I had huge breasts until I was…19? 20? One of the two. Asymmetrical by a whole cup size, too! So I went from a 36 DD/DDD to a much more manageable (now) 38B with the help of surgery. I have pretty anchor scars and I love them, which makes this next bit so frustrating: I don’t like my breasts at all. If I could hand them off to someone else, scars and all, I would. They’re lovely, but not on me. I’m binding most days of the week now, though that might change with my increased work schedule. If I could wear my binder to bed, I would.
So there’s three overstuffed paragraphs on what I’m not. So what am I? Honestly, I’m somewhere near the middle, but I’ve always (mentally, if not always physically) strayed toward the masculine side of things. I am not perfectly male or female, but I am much more comfortable being read as male. The few times that people have called me “sir” (a rant on gender in the customer service sector later) have been the highlights of my year. I like the way I look in the mirror with a flat chest and sideburns. (I would kill for real sideburns.) I like being called David, I really do. The name’s sticking pretty hard, which I’m sure Jared is proud of. I treasure my Tuesdays at Jenn and Jared’s because they both call me David and use masculine pronouns for me. It’s my one evening a week that I feel like myself.
If modern medicine could provide it, I would love to have a cock. I’ve found that packing actually makes me feel much better. I love men’s clothing and feel more at home in it, when it fits. I also love corsets and skirts, but I feel like I’m in drag when I wear them. Good drag, but drag nonetheless.
Oh, and you can pry my makeup (Sweet Libertine ftmfw) and collection of heels out of my cold, dead hands.
(It should be noted that I have one itty bitty pinkie toe out of the closet on most of this, so if you’re an awesome friend that reads my tumblr and this is news to you, that’s why. I will try to make it up to you with an actual Talk at some point. Give me time. I’m scared.)
Sexuality
This section will be much shorter because anyone that’s read this far deserves a cookie. Also head.
Because I’m busy meandering through the wonderful world of gender, it’s hard to nail down what I am sexuality-wise since that’s usually anchored off of one’s gender. I like everyone in different ways and different amounts. I have ‘types’ that I won’t go into now, but none of them really rely on gender too heavily, with the exception of my love of tall, skinny cismen. (ex: David Tennant) Don’t get me wrong, I am a shallow, shallow man and think that appearances play a factor in my attraction to people, but I find that usually applies to the extremes. I still think that human beings are beautiful in any form, but I can find beauty in someone and not want to get in their pants.
I’m really digging the word “fagette” right now, specifically because of this Athens Boys Choir song of the same name. It doesn’t quite fit me, but I like it and I sort of wish it did.
…
Okay, I’m shutting up now. This is by no means perfect, but it will have to do. I had no clue this would wind up being so long, and it could have been longer if I was more awake. Thank you for reading.
