Waves?

Sometimes I feel great, like, I'm finally on my way to having a life, to being confidant and happy and secure. I hate my binder but I love it - I can walk around outside in (admittedly layered) fitting clothing and be myself. I get called GAY or QUEER sometimes if the pissheads are out. As insulting as they intend to be it makes my fucking day. And I carefully lock my doors when I return home.

But every now and then, I get these waves of blackness in my head.

I just sit here and wonder.

Am I EVER going to get this sorted? How much longer do I have to.. To do this, this life that's not quite mine.

I'm sick of being called a 'good girl' at work.

It hurts. It's like a fucking little knife in my chest and they say it, so, often.

I generally try and pass it off, shrug it away like so much in my life - I was bullied at school; I've never really cared what other people say to me or about me, it was only being touched I couldn't stand back then.

But these days.

There is something that words can break into, and it hurts and it makes me wonder how long, and that makes it seem like I'll never ever get there. Like I'll be in limbo the rest of my life (however short it will end up) always waiting for a letter or a phone call.

I hate this feeling.

I hate my stupid chromosomes.

I don't wish I wasn't me. I just wish I could LOOK and be TAKEN as me NOW. Not be me, with parts that shouldn't. Fucking. Be. There.

I wish I had known this years ago, when it would have been so much better to transition. College or something, the end of school, late teens. Give me a chance, I keep thinking, let me go back and leave myself a note so that in one time-line at least, I get to be happy from the start of this supposed age of freedom..

Please, universe, can't you just shiver a bit, speed up, get me there now, send me back, anything?

The butcher calls me Sir.

My friends call me Ethan (or Sol).

My niece calls me Ethan.

My parents are getting a heck of a lot better at calling me Ethan thanks to my niece.

But I want it done, sorted, or at least I wast some, reassurance that it WILL happen, not this waiting and agonising and being out everywhere except work.

It's so horrible that I'm seriously beginning to think I have to tell the remaining family because if THEY call me by that name, today, I will be so, fucking, down, and it's just... Not right.

I don't DO extremes of emotion. But lately I do. And it's strange.

I'm worried that, being a calm, slow, controlled person, and I hear all this stuff about T making guys less emotional.. What'll happen to me?

Please let there be some good news soon, please, please, please?