Strangled By My Own Rope

Many, many times I find myself wishing that I had never read that post and discovered my transgendered self.  To say that I have been unhappy would be the understatement of the year.  I no longer know who I am, what I want, or how to go about blending my "old" self with my "new" self.

Life with T.H. is strained to say the least.  Any time that I'm not happy and bubbly, which used to be my norm, he complains about how unhappy I've been ever since and he doesn't see how it helped me at all.....this self discovery of mine.

I have periods of being happy, and then it's like a huge crushing weight smashes into me.  And all I can do is cry.  I can't sleep, my appetite is suppressed, and all I want to do is watch tv, which is a sure sign I'm depressed.

Sure the knowledge makes sense of my past life and actions, a joy in itself.  But that leaves me afloat with nothing to hold onto, every thing seems awkward and off kilter.  I have no fucking idea how to continue on from here.

The funny thing, now that my mind is aware is how much of me I have repressed over the years.  I remember when puberty brought breasts to my chest how devastated I was, and how mad I was that my cousin was right, I was a girl.  I don't think I truly ever believed before then.  I think it was then that I started to submarine myself, from myself.  By the time I got to college I was wearing mostly female clothing, and trying so hard to fit in with the girls in my dorm, a feat I never really ever managed.

Now that I have embraced my true self, one good thing has happened.  I no longer avoid mirrors.  I can look in the mirror at me.  I still don't think I'm very attractive, but w/e, that's not the point.  It's the fact that I know now why the mirror has always bothered me, it reflects a girl and not the boy it should be.

Androgyne me, I think is what was caused by socialization.  I think that transexual is really a better fit.  Because if possible I would jettison this girl shell, it has served its purpose, and gave me four of the most wonderful sons ever.

And I think that is the root of my trouble, I want to change, but see no way of doing so.  T.H. has told me any surgery is a deal breaker, the end of our marriage.  No, I'm not mad at him for feeling that way, but it does hurt.  I'm sitting looking at the scary thought of wondering if I'm no longer in love with T.H. He's really not on board with all of this, and it has caused a gulf between us.  He agrees that yes, it does make sense, it explains why I'm so different from the usual female.  A fence, a wall, a moat divides that point of his understanding from the whole rest of me.  He's not prepared to travel any further, and has dug in his heels.  Willfully?  idk tbh

Strangled by my own rope of understanding me, and the more I wiggle and squirm the more it strangles me.