I’ve been working since last night not to cry.
I’ve been working since last night to look okay.
My dysphoria is overwhelming.
I’m not supposed to have these fucking parts.
I’m not supposed to be barren.
I should have been able to carry my children.
I should have been able to be pregnant.
I hate this.
I hate the dysphoria.
I hate being broken.
I just want to cry until I can’t anymore.
Just curl up in a little ball and hide.
I’m trying so hard not to hate my body…
But sometimes it’s incredibly difficult.
I feel like I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
I’m scared my dysphoria is going to throw me into crisis again.
It’s getting harder to keep control of my emotions.
Why can’t I just have surgery?
Why can’t I just fucking get surgery?
Why the hell is it still considered fucking elective?! This shit isn’t elective. This shit isn’t okay. I’m so sick and tired of having a million and one cisgender gate keepers. My doctor, my therapist, the court system, the medical system, insurance… Every fucking one of these people is cis. Every fucking one of these people is another gatekeeper that I have to appease to get what I want.
I can’t appease insurance enough though.
It doesn’t matter that every single medical group in the US deems it absolutely necessary. No, it’s still fucking elective says most insurance policies. No. It’s still fucking elective says Medicaid.
I’m so tired. Dysphoria wears you down. Day in. Day out. Every moment. Every movement… You never get to forget.
I just wish I could know, for one day, what it’s like to be cis…
What’s it like to have your sex and gender match? To not crawl out of your skin because it feels wrong?
I just want to not hurt anymore. I don’t want to deal with dysphoria anymore, but it’s not an option, so how do I learn how to live with it?
Thank you for reading sunshines. Take gentle care of yourselves.