This is my first attempt at blogging. Please forgive the rudimentary look of my site. I am doing this at the behest of my psychologist and to see if there’s anyone out there who feels the same as I do.
I am a female, was born female (although I sometimes think perhaps I was born a hermaphrodite and my parents had me “changed” to female) but this is getting a little too far ahead. At present, to the best of my knowledge and according to my birth certificate, I am a girl…now grown up. I have a young adult son and live with my boyfriend of 12 years. I am a girly girl. I love all things sparkly, ruffles and lace. I am a self-proclaimed “fashionista”. I love LOVE vintage clothing and 1960’s – 1970’s clothing and décor. I have two walk-in closets filled with clothing that I just can’t part with (even though some of it needs to go). I spend most of my days consuming online couture and ready-to-wear fashion sites and stores. I have spent a near fortune on clothing, shoes, accessories…you name it. All in the desperate attempt to appear more feminine in “my” mind.
Let me preface this by saying that supposedly I don’t look extremely masculine. In fact, I have had therapists laugh in my face and tell me they could take me to a shopping mall and not one person would accuse me of being a man in drag (tranny) or even question my gender. Good! That is my goal! This is because I am extremely thin! In my mind, the thinner I am, the more feminine I appear. I never EVER want someone to come up to ask me if I am a girl or boy or if I am a tranny. This has happened a couple times in my life…I can count these occurrences on one hand. They happened when I was at a more normal weight and when it did happen, my whole world fell apart and suffice to say I was suicidal. Depression, which had been there all my life, increased exponentially and took me down like I had been shot in the head. I never want that to happen again. I was lost, I hated myself to the point I was afraid to look in mirrors or at my reflection in a window. I was devastated beyond what my frail ego could withstand and I cannot ever go back to this point of self-hatred or I will die. This puts me at the mercy of other people. I cannot control what other people think I look like, but I can control my appearance through my weight and me being seen as a woman is the only thing that keeps me alive.
So, you see the conundrum? I must remain thin and small to remain alive. Anorexia is my lifeboat. I currently teeter on the edge of underweight to “anorexia” underweight. This keeps me alive, but only barely. I have moderate to severe hypotension (low blood pressure), am losing some of my hair and am constantly dehydrated. If I push the weight loss too hard, I pass out, get circles under my eyes, my veins are pronounced on my limbs and more hair starts to fall out. One would think that these side effects would be a deterrent to appearing feminine, and to a certain extent I agree, but still much less masculine than when my weight falls into the normal (even low-normal) range. I am married to my anorexia. I can barely live with it – but without it I am dead…by suicide. This is my life.