GIC weekend

I’ve been neglecting this blog again, for once though due to stuff actually happening rather than my usual mental malaise. Its catchup Tuesday …

I had another two appointments at the GIC a couple of weeks ago. Psychologist on Friday and psychiatrist on Monday with a bit of solo child care on the weekend between to keep me poorly rested :-) Both appointments turned out to be good sessions – I feel I’m getting a good rapport with my psychologist and the psychiatrists questions were straightforward and done with in half an hour.

One shock though was the news that I wont be able to get hormones until I’ve changed my name and am living full time as a woman – including work! This raises the horrific prospect of having to take this 44 year old male body to work, dressed as a woman, *before* I get hormones. Fortunately my friend Lucy told me of a way around this; so long as you’ve told work HR that you’re *going* to transition on such-and-such a date, the GIC are happy to prescribe hormones. Hopefully I can use this dodge to give me a month or 3 headstart on my appearance before I take the long walk off the lift :-)

One bad thing of ‘not being ready’ is that I’ve missed the boat for the June quarterly gender panel, where all hormone decisions are made, so now September is the earliest I can get them :-(   If they don’t prescribe after I’ve gone full time and changed my name, I’m flippin’ well self-medding, my liver be damned…

On the Monday, kid in school, I headed off early to my GIC appointment and met up with a couple of friends further along than me. One who has left her wife, the other trying to keep their relationship going. We had a good old chat over lunch and I come to realise that walking into work without hormones isn’t the worst thing in the world. Scary, sure, but do-able and not nearly as bad as the experiences my friends have survived.

Thus emboldened, and on the back of a good psych appointment, I go back off home. My wife is very upset as I expain whats happened and let slip that I met my friends in the pub by the clinic – I’d told her I wouldn’t go “galavanting around Sheffield” (her words) but not stuck to my promise. Which hurt because it would have denied me some valuable support but I can’t deny that I have broken the agreed rules.

But then things get really bad as my wife gets *really* upset, with full on anxiety attacks, begging me not to go ahead with transition and talking of self harm and worse. She challenged me again over how I would handle my daughter and telling her school and would I still pick her up or take her in a morning. She was asking me to recount every small detail and challenging everything I said, not accepting it when I said an honest “don’t know”. Basically the most horrible stressful evening you can imagine. I didn’t get much sleep.

 

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