So today wasn’t exactly the most eventful of days, however it was more so than usual for daft old me.
I began my morning by visiting my local GP to discuss my depression and next week’s therapy session. She seemed slightly annoyed that the therapy team in Telford refused to treat me due to being transgender; however I’m glad that they did decide to refer me elsewhere. The fact that they forwarded me to a gender therapist speeds up the entire counselling process and at least allows me to talk comfortably with someone who has an understanding toward transgender matters.
My doctor was wonderful to talk to and was as sympathetic as could be toward me and my gender identity. She did, however, tell me that I may never have to tell my parents about being trans if I can quickly find a job and move out of their house; acting almost as though this would be a positive move on my behalf.
I do get a tad miffed when people tell me (or should I say suggest) that I shouldn’t tell my parents about being transgender. Why shouldn’t I? It almost sounds as if they are implying that there’s something deeply wrong with me; that being trans is nothing but a dirty burden that I should keep safely concealed from those who I love.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with being transgender and to hide in the closet for the rest of my life would suggest that I think my behaviour is somehow immoral and unsavoury. I’m not saying that I’m proud to be trans – it’s not as though it is some sort of exceptional achievement – it just so happens to be who and what I am. I should have the right and freedom to tell who ever I like; without having to feel as though I’m making a grave error in doing so.
So ok, I get that it’s going to be real tough on my parents and that I should think about the effects which it will most likely have on them. Of course I don’t want to upset and confuse them, but I have to think about my own feelings too. If I am to be happy and if I want to live my life expressing the gender that I’m most comfortable with, then telling them is the only way to achieve such a desire. I love my parents to bits, however they are not my masters and I should be at liberty to be honest with them.
Could you imagine suggesting to a gay person that they should not come out to their parents because it may upset and confuse them? Such advice would quite rightly be grossly unacceptable.
What I guess I’m trying to say is that I’m going to tell my parents about being transgender very soon; despite what doctors, therapists and friends may think. It’s something which I feel I need to do for the sake of my wellbeing.
But nevertheless, the ball is definitely rolling. I have my first appointment with a gender therapist on Monday the 20th August and I’m very excitement about it. I can finally work on discovering who I am and strive to become more comfortable with my gender identity. I’ve hated myself for so many years, yet only now am I learning to love and accept myself. Roll on Monday!
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Once my doctor’s appointment ended, I decided to meet up with a few friends and mosey around the town centre for several hours. This was very naughty of me, as it meant that I did not get a single bit of writing finished today. I really should be focusing on my sitcom as its deadline is just over the horizon. Hopefully tomorrow I can pull my finger out and make some kind of effort.
I did, however, manage to drag myself into the job centre this afternoon. It turns out that my job seekers appointment was yesterday afternoon; however they failed to text me on Friday to confirm this. From the tone of their voice I assume they think that this was somehow my fault; however if they fail to text, call or email me, then I highly doubt that I’m the one to blame for such a lack of communication.
Going on the doll was a difficult decision for my oversized ego. There’s a lot of stigma attached to claiming benefits, however I had no other choice. Since leaving university last May, I’ve applied for over 50 jobs. Not once have I received a single interview and over 40 of those 50 applications didn’t even bother to respond back.
I want a job more than anything else in the world right now. I’d love to have an income, to keep myself busy during the weekdays and to finally have something to get me out of bed in the mornings. The problem is that there just doesn’t appear to be any work going around here. I’m now at the stage where I'm applying for every type of job that exists under the sun; yet it just seems to be that employers don’t want me (probably because I have two art degrees. Damn them and their potential prejudice toward the abstract!).
But I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I know I’ll find a job eventually. I’m reasonably intelligent (I think) and I’m keen to succeed; which means something is bound to pop up for me sooner or later. All I'm saying is that I’m not just some idle sponge who’s making zero effort. I really want to work; people just need to give me a bleeding chance!
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