Author: ishtarembedded

needles and pins

So today I was having first of probably 12 hour-long sessions today of electrolysis targeting the area outlined (NSFW) here: http://www.chet-plasticsurgery.com/dr-chettawuts-recommendation-of-genital-hair-removal/ .

Each single sting has a needle sting, I hate that most. Then the heat/burn; that is not as bad as laser, but combined with the sting it is. I need to focus away from each one, I was babbling in the local language of Babylon the whole time, mostly saying “what is the word that mean… hmmm…”.

Now I applied only a single coat of anaesthetic, and probably not in the right place fully, so may hurt less next time.

But either way I will get through this.

emo

I kept feeling things very strongly, not quite frustration but Catastrophic Relevance, until finally I slept. Today feeling far more balanced. Being home sick may help too of course.

*

On another note, silver lining of something dark, I saw the medical records of a trans person getting into emergency psychiatric care under psychosis and intensive drug use, in the jurisdiction where I live. They ran away to find more drugs, they were restrained due to damage risk and generally must have provided a complicated situation. All the same, the report did not misgender, mentioned they were trans in passing as part of anamnesis (but not under diagnoses or treated pathologies), and generally was respectful. This implies to me that many systems at least here in Babylon actually might function as intended. I am glad of that, in these days of regressive politics.

tens

I don’t care if it is the same phenomenon or not, or if I am appropriating anything or not, but today I have no skin and I parse this as being something like a PMS experience. It’s the same as

– Sep 11 ( https://lost-in-transition.tumblr.com/post/177970939869/skinless-moon )

– Aug 30 ( https://lost-in-transition.tumblr.com/post/177558704049/tension )

So not periodic or predictable, and there are surrounding stressors. But everything feels heavy and sad and hard and I just want to crawl under blankets and blargh. Lying in bed trying to program, wanting to scream.

It will be OK. I hope it is something similar because I’d feel better knowing it is something I share with my cisters.

movement matter molting

Day is multistressed, and I sense I am in a state where I jump at anything remotely scary, even social things. Interesting. Don’t think it is any microhormone fluctuation per se (though it extends worries last night which faded a little when I replaced spent patches) but rather compound effects of how stressful things are right now.

Still have a cold, irritating. Worried about things. But feeling good also, feeling seen, and I can navigate all of this.

Oh, and discovered I can receive stimulation with a Hitachi through tucking and that this feels great when another person does it to me, so at least some things still work now in terms of sexual reception. Watched surgery videos and felt scared, but then again, the point is that I should be sedated while they do it to me, and then for things to be bandaged while initial healing happens. Meh.

And I am beginning to recognize I may have several emotional wounds from previous situations that actually behave similarly to very very weak subclinical PTSD, in most cases I don’t even acknowledge I have been hurt because I don’t feel I deserve compassion about those things, I blame myself. Nothing severe. But all sorts of complex things left marks, and I may be getting to a point where I can acknowledge that and maybe work on it. Is this finally me getting a little closer to graduated emotions?

loathing

After a few days of unconditional acceptance at the conference with no issues at all I was sir:d by the lady selling me coffee, despite expressing femme. I tried to speak up but I mumbled and she did not here. Next time I must be harsh and ask until a get a response what the person says. I will do this, will spellbound myself to it. That is a Crone act too. It’s impolite and hurtful but revenge and sharp response is of the Crone.

It must be because the last few days were so good that this hurts now so much. One person did misgender me back then but for her I can think it was habit. Not so here. What’s wrong with my despicable corpse of a body? Holding back tears. Is it the face? The forehead? Probably face length and jaw. Is that even possible to fix? Can more years of hormones do anything? Can surgery? Obsessing, spiraling, hurting deeply. Reached out on instagram. Blogging. Reaching out to loved ones. Disproportionate response. In pain.

What is wrong? How do I find out what is wrong? How do I fix it? For the first time I’m seriously considering facial surgeries. It really is true, the better things get for baseline, the more vulnerable I am.

I hate my form and my features right now, at this minute. Loathing this corpse. Wanting to cry but I don’t have the time.

S

For some reason I am sweating, and my armpits smell, my deodorant may be of poor quality and I hate it and it is awful. It’s probably just bad luck with the deodorant make but I feel so disgusting and it makes me feel dysphorically masculine. Need to cope, need to improve, will do so.

salience

Making a brief post instead as the caffeine need is very high, along with the tiredness. Found something empowering while at the same time humbling, and my own responses interesting. At a scientific conference, we were sorted into tables randomly for dinner. Another girl sorted to the same table sat down next to me, whom I am 90-95% but not 100% sure is also trans, but possibly stealth. I am confident she passes as cis to any cis person, and it is interesting that I cannot be fully sure. Spending time with her in this manner felt very validating, also because with that, my presence in a scientific space like this is further normalized – there ends up being almost the expected population fraction of trans people present and it does not at any point become an issue.

I also became slightly less secure than otherwise – while I was older and professionally more senior, she would clearly be further along and definitely more confident. I would have felt insecure but used once more the Maiden techniques to shut that worry down. This is the humbling part, all of us maybe become somewhat uncertain when with people we admire, more self-conscious. I am glad of learning to handle it. Did not expect to meet another girl like me in this context, curious if I have, happy if so, would want to be friends with. If things progress, it will eventually cease to be remarkable and just be safe and peaceful integration and acceptance.

Also still very very wondering how often I am clocked versus passes for cis. I really cannot know. And feeling in a tenderized body kind of way that I need to work on my voice.

radiance

So, somewhat affected, impacted, altered mood. Still no coffee, I will have it. Still multistressed, multi-affected, alive, much to do. Going to travel tomorrow, going to travel so so much and so much happens and so many meaningful touche in my life and I want to scream because I juggle so much of it.

But this is a blessing. I just need to wield it, channel it. This is magic. When I walked from the U-bahn to the electrologist, seeing beautiful street art and brutalism on the way, then I recognized that the right hand path magic application of the ankh in some regards may be the use of all three moons joined together in combination, whereas the left hand path magic of the moons has them applied distinctly and separately. This is only one true description, incompatible ones exist I am sure. I need focus now and I need symbols for that focus. I need the gratification of progress under fear, must not reward too much with creature comforts.

The recommendation made by Chettawut is perianal hair removal only. Electrolysis seems safest and permanent. The electrologist came recommended. I’m looking at an hour every other week for about six months, with two days after each during which things get cumbersome due to even water washing, let alone soap, not being recommended. It may cost up to 1K in total, which is about for times my projected remaining laser expenses. I presented, practicing my crappy Local Language of Babylon, it worked fine enough I suppose. I undressed and was photographed. Tiny tendency to tumescence under the awkwardness, despite by near-total testosterone suppression. Irritating but getting beyond awkward. I feel power within me of really ceasing to give fucks except deliberately. This is willpower exercise. I grow stronger still.

Then we tried it, without any anaesthesia. I’ll probably apply EMLA cream next time. It hurts, not from the needle sting, but from the separate heat and electricity applications. Nothing intolerable but if it goes on for a full hour the buildup likely will be significant, so I’ll go for the cream anyway. Some of the operations felt similar to blood draws or dental anaesthesic application in pain intensity, perhaps because they were gradual. I can deal with it but I will happily chemically cheat here. This now was just for ten minutes or so, a trial run.

Booked for next Friday. Of course I’ll go ahead. Everything about this is counter to comfort, every single aspect, but that’s precisely the point. Agency. Witchcraft. I move. I was moved, feeling tears every now and then going away from there, now on the train out to my office. This girl is beyond giving any fucks. And I needed precisely that insight when I woke this morning and everything felt challenging and hard.

The cumbersomeness fascinates me. In particular the hygiene aspects, the limitations, the likely healing challenges with that area, the scheduling challenges applying anaesthesia beforehand and afterwards. I’ll get to make use of my office ensuite bidet. For the second day after healing, when the aloe vera wears off, she recommends using an actual menstrual pad. It will be the first time I wear one, the first time I’d feel legitimate doing so even under an off-label use, and that feels stupidly, ridiculously validating just to think of. I will buy some later today (before, have done so only so as to have them available for guests as a courtesy thing). It’s good my use of own parts for sex is so limited and optional now, because that too will be a limitation. And for six months.

All of this is exactly what I need – complications, challenges, awkwardness, limitation, communicating using a third language at best with a care provider, all linked to the most awkward parts of my body. By ceasing to give any fucks here, I step one step closer to what it seems very much that I want. I step into myself, spread my vulnerabilities and exist. I prepare. I hold back tears on the S-bahn without knowing what emotion they correspond to. Relief, I think. Empathy with some part of myself that has been hurting for very long.

I am the witch.