I’ve been signed off work for two weeks…

I went to the doctors, explained as much as I could – which was actually not very much – and I was actually pretty scared by the guy. He just kept asking me how I wanted him to help, saying he could sign me off work, send me to counselling or put me on medication.

The thing is, I’ve been to counselling before, and the last two times (when I’ve been referred to services close to my parents as opposed to those while I was at uni), I’ve been turned down because apparently my case isn’t severe enough. So why do I want to wait for that when I feel I already know the outcome?

As for medication. I have a very hazardous relationship with that shit. (I’m not saying it IS shit, I’m just generalising). I’ve been on two different tablets and both times I’ve come off them suddenly when I’ve forgotten to get a prescription, while also regularly NOT taking it because since that first lot that really helped and I was so messed up I didn’t have better things to rush around for to cause me to forget, I’ve never been consistently taking it. I’m not saying I can’t change that, but I felt so bad I didn’t want to beat myself up for being silly with it.

I beat myself up about a lot of things, and when you’re trying to fix yourself… being angry at yourself for not taking medication, isn’t really gonna help.

So I picked the last option. Even though I felt two weeks was too much, even though the worst of the panic is gone. I figured I’m really only getting help to stop it going from panicking to outright hurting myself again – which I nearly did a few nights ago, hence the trip to the doctors to just be like “erm, help?”.

And the thing is, at least now the stress of knowing I have to call in every day if I don’t feel well is gone. Knowing I won’t have to stand at work zoning out and feeling this horrible shaky thing in my chest has already taken what seems like a lot of weight off of my shoulders. But it hasn’t taken away what I think the actual panic is, which is that what makes me anxious about work is dealing with a lot of people who misgender me, despite the fact that most of them see my f**king name all the time. And then there are customers that misgender me. Even though they can see my name too. Like, yes, the short haired, flat chested person, that is wearing men’s boots, and a name badge that says MATT, is totally and utterly “this lady here”. I’ve not even f**king SPOKEN and they wanna call me a woman?

I feel like I’m stuck in that place until I become “truly” male. Until my voice drops and my face changes, I don’t know how to deal with coming out somewhere else, considering this time went so stupidly. My store manager got told everything, and still deadnamed me, misgendered me (eventually on purpose and sometimes in front of others in an attempt to “boost my confidence with correcting people”) and did basically f**king nothing, despite being “a massive LGBT ally, who has known loads of gay people and whose best friend is a trans woman” that she still seems to misgender.

So ultimately when I go back I’ll be standing by myself alone, and dealing with idiots. I try to tell myself it’s not worth correcting them because I don’t want to stay there, but I should. Then it comes down to the fact that I have no ability to stand up for myself. I just want this stage to whizz past and I don’t have to deal with it, but I know that isn’t how it works, especially not on the NHS timeline (or at least I highly doubt it).

My chest is really bugging me right now. Yay for feeling so fucking uncomfortable in your body, like dealing with shit in the outside world isn’t shitty enough.


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