Today was the day where all my dressings were to come off, and they did. The things I can tell you are as follows
* Surgical dressings are the worst thing ever. Getting them pulled of my skin was like trapping my pubes in a zipper. On the plus side, my chest got waxed free of charge.
* OK that wasnt that bad in comparison to surgical gauze being taken off and having bits accidentally glued in. Having them pulled out hurts! So much I couldn’t even swear.
* You become aware of how gross you are currently when a nurse is right by your arm pit, trying to dig out some gauze.
*Nothing will prepare you for the weird feeling of a stitch being tugged and you feel it pulling half way across your body.
* Swelling. I’ve lost G cups and gained a B and an A. On the plus side this is just temporary.
* Phantom nipples is a thing. I went to go scratch them cause they were itchy and remembered that they no longer exist.
The bottom line is that everything is going really well at the moment. Not too much swelling, nothing to panic about and the scar line is much thinner than it was expected to be. I’m still on a hell of a lot of pain killers at the moment, but I’m slowly starting to go out a little bit more now. I’m also slowly becoming more happier with my body, which is the main thing.
*Content warning – some of the content written may be upsetting for some readers. Contains talk about death, miscarriage and abuse*
When you spend ages trying to put of writing something, you know there is often a good reason for it. When this word came up, I almost decided to throw in the towel and not do this. But I’m here and I’m talking about emptiness.
There have been many points that I have felt like there is nothing inside of me, that I’m just hollow and nothing can fill the void that’s there. It doesn’t help that I suffer from poor mental health, if you have read some of my other posts outside this challenge, I have spoken about my battle with bipolar and clinical depression. I have also spoken very publicly about being in a relationship with a partner who was abusive. Which I suppose brings me to the first point of feeling empty.
When you go through abuse, you feel like you are the only person in the world that feels like its happening to them. You feel like no one is going to believe you and that you are the reason why its happening. Its nothing but both internal and external bullshit around you and it takes a lot to get out of the cycle, in one piece. It took me a long time to get back to the person I was.
I have felt emptiness on other occasions. I have lost several people in my life, and it’s ripped my heart out. I have also suffered multiple miscarriages because my body has just not allowed a fetus to develop. They have all been at very early stages, but it still fucked my head up each time it happened. I would feel just dead inside, hollow, that there was nothing there. Now at the time, it nearly killed me being unable to bring a pregnancy to full term, and I used to think the phrase “everything happens for a reason” was utter bullshit. Then life changed.
I came out and I realised that if I hadn’t had everything happen to me, that I hadn’t felt this empty void in my life, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I had come out because I realised that I needed to sort my shit out and stop running away and pretending that what was going on inside wasn’t going to kill me if I didn’t resolve it.
As I worked on my treatment for gender reassignment, I started looking at all the other issues I had and started going into recovery. Whilst I am still very unwell at times, I have been able to function better and find better coping skills.
The emptiness that is there is slowly getting filled with other things in my life. One day it will all get better
Thank you for reading this. Please feel free to comment about this post. The next post is F.