Transition Diary Entry 3 -- Dysphoria

By Asche

June 12, 2016

Content Note: self-loathing

Yesterday was a bad one. I was in my hotel in Philadelphia, attending the Trans Health Conference, and I woke up at around 3:30 a.m., feeling that I was awful. The thought that kept running around in my brain was: I am a big, ugly troll, and that's all I'll ever be. Transition is a joke (on me.) I have troll's soul in a troll's body. It was like I had looked in the mirror and seen some ugly monster and when I looked inside the ugly troll in the mirror, I saw only an ugly troll soul. And with that came a sense of utter revulsion, like what I saw was disgusting and repulsive with no redeeming feature and there was no hope that anything could change me. In that moment, I wanted to be erased from existence so I wouldn't have to be conscious of my utter repulsiveness, so no one would. I wished there were an active volcano nearby so I could throw myself into it.

I managed to get myself together to go to the conference, but I was an emotional basket case until I found some people who were willing to give me long hugs and let me cry on their shoulders. It didn't cure it, but it did make me feel better. I guess I just need regular doses of hugs until the dysphoria passes. Having things I have to do (like driving home) allows me to ignore the dysphoria for a little while, too. But I'm still feeling dysphoric even now, though not quite as bad as yesterday.

I'm guessing that it was triggered by a session where the presenter had a guided meditation for the cis people in the audience to imagine being the opposite sex and treated as the opposite sex, which I foolishly went along with. I normally am quite good at not seeing myself when I look in the mirror and this exercise got around that defense. I'd also been feeling pretty fragile for a few weeks and almost didn't go to the conference because of it. Also, there were something like 4,000 people at the conference, none of whom I knew or had any connection with, and I find dealing with strangers pretty taxing.

Another factor is that I've gone off antidepressants. One thing I want out of transition, or rather the path I'm taking of which transition is a part, is to be able to feel again, and antidepressants have always made me feel emotionally anaesthetized.

Well, guess what? I'm feeling! (Still haven't learned to let go and have a proper cry, though.)