2018

So 2018.. eh?






At the start of the year I finally recognised and accepted I am transgender. A monumental change in my head. A breakthrough in something that had been causing a severe strain internally for, well, for as long as my memories go back.

And with that came a change in my attitude. The person I am, when I allow myself to be the person I really am, is more confident, capable of more and able to be more spontaneous.

This gave me the motivation to finally fix all the problems I had seen in myself, in my body, but also to be able to say to myself that they will take time, instead of them being the burden, they became something I could see as a future that didn't cause stress.

Also this year was a diagnosis of Autism, High-functioning ASD, or as they said what would've been classed as "Asperger's" under the old naming convention.

And it was obvious, given some processing, that this was what was holding back the recognition of being Transgender. The "logical" side of me refusing an emotional choice based on the irrational and on what "felt" right, to only accept what could be explained to it technically. It required a technical reason to break through that and accept the emotions (taking proper oestrogen was the deal-breaker).

And as I've come to understand my autism, I've come to realise what I can only describe as blame for my situation I put down to my family.

I come to this conclusion as I have autism. I've always had autism. I've always had social and inter-personal development problems. Because I have autism.

When I was introduced to technology I slowly started withdrawing into myself and away from friends and the company of others. Because it was logical and my brain loved it. Because I have autism.

And when we were forced to move to a completely different area of the city, with completely different rules. Away from what friends I did have. I couldn't make new ones. Because I have autism. Because I didn't fit in. Because I didn't know the "rules" of socialising or interacting with people. Because I have autism.

And when I'm told by family members "it wasn't easy for them" they forget, it might not have been known at the time, but I have autism. I've always had it. It's been something that permeates my existence and my entire societal interactions.

As I approach my 41st year alive, it is obvious to me, I haven't had any real physical contact with anyone. Friends, family, anyone. Most people won't understand how desperate you feel for physical contact when you haven't had it for over 1/4 of a century. Mainly because the people telling me it's going to "be alright" and all the rest of the platitudes have family members around them. Have friends around them. Have close people that can offer them support when they need it. But guess what? I have autism. I haven't been able to get close to anyone. I have autism and it stops me being able to do that and the one group of people that should've been around to support me, fucked off as I was breaking down and becoming less than nothing.


I don't think the anti-depressants are working so well any more