Masked Maiden's page

Well, if you could just see me blush reading these comments. Thank you, it means a lot to have people who are taking an interest in these messages. :) I am a little bit at a loss for words, but believe me that this means a whole lot to me.

Really at a loss for words, as it turns out. Maybe I can get them in a row tomorrow.

Well, that was an odd day. I was so anxious I pretty much wasted my workday staring at the screen until the therapist appointment. And I said the words. "I have been questioning my gender identity for almost two years. At this point, I am pretty such to be female, despite my looks."

And after a short moment of feeling like a deer in headlights, he just jotted down a note, asked a few questions on how I got to that point - and continued the initial talk without giving it much more room.

I feel... strange. A little more free. A little more able to face other parts of my history. As if just saying it to another person instead of just typing had removed a burden from my shoulders.

I don't know if you remember me, way back upthread. I am still here, lurking occasionally. I tried to break that habit, but I keep coming back.

3 Months back I mentioned "considering" going back into therapy. Now it is happening. In the end, it took was a big fight with my wife where she told me point-blank that I need it. For my eating problem. For the massive headaches whenever we meet family. For the cronic infections that 3 doctors just find no proper reason for. For looking "like death" every so often, and not feeling any better.

Yeah, I battled getting into therapy kicking and screaming, but you can bury your face in a book to hide your crying for only so long.

I am scared. I had close to three years of therapy, and never even mentioned my fantasies, my quiet doubts and my feeling foreign inside myself. Even when we went over the worst of the times, that stayed locked down tight.

I trained talking about it into a mirror. I even spoke out aloud when I was alone in the car. But right now, I think I most likely still won't be able to say a word. How could I just up and say "Doctor, I think I am a woman. What can we do about that. Even if I am here only for cronic headaches, my bulemia flaring up again, and depressive bouts that return every other month."

:) You might have made that lady's day.

I quite enjoyed the first season. It was a good precisely because Clementine needed caring for, and at the same time represented something to fight for.

The second season started off with a tragic accident - but also with the hope of a baby. Well, that disappeared without a trace or even comment. It just kept on piling trauma after trauma until I decided that Clem had broken under the strain. Embraced the horror and tried to become it.

I finished the final episode alone with the baby, after shooting Kenny. Clementine had internalized that everyone would just leave her anyway. Why risk the hurt.

That really depressing ending was the last thing I wanted for Clem, but the only thing that felt... psychologically appropriate to her.

Played a WHOLE lot of WoW, but stopped with WotLK (it became quite unhealthy).

Next most played used to be ToR, but I stopped after half a year because the same things that made me stop WoW started turning up again.

I paid a whole whole lot of client fees for other MMOs, but rarely stuck with them for more than 2-3 months. Eve, GW2 and City of Villains come out as the most relevant.

Right now, I am very casually playing Star Trek online. Extremely casually.

I played PFO for all of 3 days. That was $100 well spent ;) The game did not work for me on so many levels, despite the hefty buy-in I just had better things to do.

For anyone looking for a decent MMO, I would recommend STO or TOR. Both have good storytelling and can be played for free or on a very limited budget without losing too much. TOR is milking the skinner box more competently, and for me that is a problem, though.

Just saw the news about the courts decision. Very happy about this. :) Now, hopefully this signifies a watershed, and won't be blown away once Bush 3 comes into power.

First off, a bit of clarification. I don't have a serious drinking problem. Usually I am the one to usher my brother-in-law and his friends into their respective busses. I don't like intoxication all that much. I tag along, drink as much as socially required, but stick with beer when the others graduate to harder stuff. Getting drunk is never worth the headaches it causes. I <i>do</i> have a bad eating problem. I don't want to go into too many details. Worst thing is, I don't even enjoy wolfing down three cans of pringles. Its just... relief.

I have been in therapy in my mid-twenties. Three years digging through very painful times, for no benefit. Always going over my humiliations. My f*@+ed up family. My hiding and locking others out of my life. I felt like absolute garbage after each and every session. In fact, I gained most of my weight during these years.

Nevertheless, I am considering going back into therapy. I don't know how to sell that to my wife - but she might even be supportive. She probably knows something is off. She does not say anything, but she knows that sometimes it is ok to ask me about my day, and sometimes she is just quiet and gives me a hug. It may take a few months to find a spot, and I frankly still do not know what I am supposed to even say - but anything to get myself back on track.

Anyway, I don't think this is just a trick of the mind. There is something behind that experience. Otherwise, I would not still be revisiting that moment after that long time and again. It is not as if I am not / have not been trying to convince myself that it was a fluke. It keeps coming back.

Thank you all for your responses. It took a lot of will to push that "submit post" button yesterday. Seeing your responses tonight just made the whole day better.

I think that large wall of text actually helped. Sometimes, just telling someone is a lot. Anyway... the kids are restless (and a little sick), and another day will start in less than 6 hours, so I won't be able to reply before tomorrow night.

Thank you for reading, it means a lot. I have actually typed and deleted half a dozen additional paragraphs - I just can't find any more words tonight.

Hey,

After an abortive attempt earlier this week, with two drinks of whiskey in me, I finally managed to put my thoughts into something resembling order. English is not my native language though. Hope I can make myself understood anyway. And as stupid and against everything I logically know to make sense, I sometimes really can't help but talk about my "issue". Just in case you wonder, this is not my actual account. Yeah, I know. I broke a rule. But there are people on this site who could easily identify me by by main account, and that would be bad.

I am 38 years old, and work as a software developer. I have two wonderful children, aged 5 and 1. I am the primary breadwinner of our little family, and have a wife I love with all my heart. Without them, I do not know what I would do.

About a year and a half ago, I was waiting on a job interview. Suddenly I looked into the mirror, and a girl looked back at me. I have always been awkward, strange and never quite felt like I belong among the boys. Or comfortable in my own body, really. I thought it was being awkward. Bad at sports. Never quite at home with myself. I was an outcast at school (it went as far as being attacked with pepper spray on three occasions), and worked myself into being as unobtrusive and forgettable as much as I could. Retreated into my room as much as I could and tried to avoid any unnecessary contact with the outside world. I got into roleplaying heavily, and it was always female characters I really identified with. But never did I really make that conclusion until that day. Somehow, with my nerves on edge and me being bored at the same time, a lot of things just fell into place. Now I wish I hadn't ever looked into that mirror.

At first, I had tried to make some tiny changes. Take things easy rather than just jumping head-first into something that I might not fully understand. But I was careful. How could I not be careful? I never had many friends or a supportive family. I still know very much how it feels to be alone. Not just lonely, but really alone. So I started small. Shaving off the stupid beard. Dropping the fake machismo. I always know that part to be fake, but it had to be there. Yet by a stroke of good luck, I got stopped before I could do anything really stupid. Really stupid, as in talking about my thoughts, maybe even coming out. My wife discussed a couple in her extended acquaintance... and how they put off their marriage to allow one of them to transition beforehand. I then broached the subject on how I admired that couple and their love. My wife agreed - and said she never would be able to do that. She literally said "I could never live with that." She is not into girls at all. Even if it was me, knowing that would be huge turn-off.

I cannot fault her. I would wish for things being different. Yet they are not. She even got alarmed when I pushed the topic. So I rowed back as much as possible, laughing the topic off, and shutting the door. I grew the beard again, force-laughed at the stupid jokes. Went out with my brother in law at his stupid drinking binges, because that is what guys do. A year has passed, and I am in "working condition". Most of the time, at least. Only sometimes, I break down. When my older daughter started going into Frozen, "Let it go" really got to me. Like tears in the eyes and being unable to speak. I had to binge-listen to that song, until I was just absolutely sick of it. My libido is pretty much dead. Not a huge matter with a small child, and a wife who's not afraid to ask when the urge hits her. But sometimes, I get thoughts like "this is only the halfway point of your life. Can you make it another 40 years without slipping up?"

Thinking about things logically, I really did not have too many options to start with. I have recurring binge eating attacks since my teenage years, which pushed me to the far side of 300 pounds. Significantly to the far side, even. I am digusted by myself, and these pounds won't ever disappear. In fact, stress and emotional pain are major binge triggers. And I would have a lot of pain - since I would lose my wife and my children. I would probably lose my job too. My body is broken as it is, and probably could not handle the stress of hormones. Even if I ever got them - because in Germany, you need to live a full year as your proper gender before you can even ask a doctor for the first shot. I am developing diabetes from the obesity. I have pronounced male pattern baldness. I am covered in fur. I even grow that beard out again, but hate ever moment of it. Even if I went and got therapy... I am stuck. Not that getting any therapy is easy with a wife asking where I am, and children wanting to see their "father".

Right now it looks to me like somehow I need to get that genie back into the bottle. Get back to that car, laugh of that silly moment of doubt, and get back in the saddle. Swallow that blue pill and be Mister Anderson forever more. Because I can't stay where I am now. Its not bad every day. In fact I'd wager more days are ok than not. Its actually pretty rare for me to just start crying out of nowhere (but if it happens, try explaining that to a meeting room!). Unless I can get myself back under control my weight will continue skyrocketing. Maybe it will even fix me feeling disconnected from my wife. Right now, it is as if something got broken when she told me she couldn't accept me. I still love her - but I haven't really felt "with" her ever since.