Week Seven

So this post is really late. I've been busy. My bad. (It seems to me like about half these post are going to end up with me starting with apologizing for being late. Perhaps I should just stop giving a shit and update whenever)

Oh well

My life more and more seems like a cheesy coming of age movie. It's developing in ways that I would have never expected to, and instead of the gorgeous Zach Braff as the protagonist it's my trans* ass.

(With feel-good indie pop constantly playing in the background)

For instance. People come over to my house and hangout on a regular basis. Me and my roommate actually host get-togethers where everyone gets really fucked up and plays video-games. Or goes down to the club. Or just hangs out.

And then we wake up in the morning and drink coffee, maybe make some breakfast.

It's glorious.

It's unexpected though. I was always this little nerdy kid who would play elder scrolls games in her room for hours on end. Now people come in and out of my house, we enjoy each other's company. People crash on my couch. I'm actually being social. Voluntarily! Crazy!

It's weird. And I get to wake up next to my gorgeous girlfriend most mornings.

I've started a three ukulele band with a few friends named Much Much More (Yes this will probably be the most hipster thing I've ever done with my life.)

It's almost like I'm growing up a bit. I'm not as much of a kid anymore, hiding in my parent's basement, emerging only at midnight to feast on peanut butter and jelly.

It's like I'm almost a for-realsies adult, leading my own life, doing the things that I enjoy. It's a good feeling.

But anyways.

Trans-stuff.

Next week marks my second month of HRT. Go me.

Also, more body changes are happening, and much faster than I anticipated. I'm actually starting to grow boobs now instead of just having these nasty little headlights poking out of shirt. I mean don't get me wrong, they're not exactly developed, and I doubt that I would fit even the smallest cup size. But I do need to wear a sports bra pretty much all the time now. And it feels pretty awesome. And is really exciting.

Oh and I got my laser appointment this past Wednesday.

(Pew pew)

It hurt like fucking hell.

If you were to google to see if laser hurts you're probably going to read something along the lines of "It feels like someone snapping a rubber band on your face."

Let me tell you something.

That's fucking bullshit.

Laser was probably the most painful thing I've ever experienced in my life. And considering the things I've done to my body that's not a meaningless statement. I've got a scar on my right eyebrow from a staff sergeant kicking a fucking door into my face (funny story that) and subsequently getting 4-5 stitches. I used to do parkour and fall and hurt myself A LOT, and have more than a few scars from that. I've no less than 5 3rd degree burn scars on my body that will be with me for the rest of my life.

And while your experience may vary, none of that was up to par with getting laser done on my face.

I didn't have any anesthetic or numbing creme, maybe that would change things. And the lady doing it said the first time was going to be the worst because the hairs were the thickest.

But. FUCK.

The best analogy I can draw is someone heating up a needle strong enough to give you a second or third degree burns and then sticking it in your face repeatedly at a steady beat for 10 minutes, with it never cooling down.

Holy shit.

When I actually saw smoke from my facial hair being literally burned away, I had to just closed my eyes and just suffered in silence, til it was done, taking occasional breaks when it got a bit too intense.

It might be that hormones are affecting the way that I feel pain. It's just that, I've always been able to sort of grunt my way through any sort of pain. Finally it goes away I yell profanities for a few minutes and then I'm good to go.

Not this.

I literally just cried for about 20 minutes after I was done. I cried harder than I've ever cried for any sort of physical pain. I finally composed myself, payed my 200 bones to the doctor, left, found a bathroom (Thank the flying spaghetti monster for gender neutral, 1 stall, bathrooms) and then cried for another half-hour. Just weeping from the pain. I've never felt anything so intense. 

It. Fucking. sucked.

It doesn't help that your face has a metric shitton of nerve endings, especially around the lips (where there is a lot of fucking hair for me).

As far as effects, the doc said that it should take about 4 sessions and I should see a 80% or so reduction in permanent hair, which should rid me of my dreaded beard shadow, as well as the need to shave daily,. My hair is definately thinner on my face, and I definately see improvements. My face was red as hell afterwards, and felt like it was sunburned to hell, and it seems likely that it's causing me to break-out with acne right now, but that should go away.

Also another thing to mention right quick. I was under the impression that I would go in, they'd zap me, and my hair would be gone by the end of the appointment, burned away to oblivion.

That's actually not what happens. They zap the fuck out of the hair follicles and then the hair gradually falls out half a week to a week later. Which sucked because I wasn't able to shave until about a day after I had it done, and had already been growing the hair for a day or two prior, so the laser specialist would actually have something to zap. So I got to walk around feeling dysphoric as fuck from my facial hair for about half a week. Just something to mention I suppose.

So yeah, laser. I've got my next appointment next month, provided the salvation army actually fucking pays me so I can afford it (Don't get me started).

On a slightly different note one of my good friends (whose actually dating my roommate, also trans*) just came out as transgender (ftm), which is super super exciting for him. It's always fun to know people like yourself I suppose, but also it's such a big step for him to be going by different pronouns and whatnot. Luckily our circle of friends is really affirming, and have been really good about pronouns (for me and him).

(Though my lovely girlfriend played a pretty huge role in getting my friends to switch to using she for me, since I always feel awkward asking people to use my preferred pronouns.)

The really funny thing is that prior to coming out as a guy he was what one would consider a super-dyke lesbian. Like unicorns eating glitter and shitting rainbows sort of gay. Fabulous, one might say.

(Fair approximation)

But since he came out as guy he started dating one of my roommates (also male), so ironically enough, he's still got the gay albeit in a different direction.

Go Team Queer.

Anyway.

That's pretty much it for this week. It's not that I don't have more to talk about but I do sort of have real obligations. Like you know, School. This fucking differential equations class may kill me (although it would be nice if the teacher had a working grasp of the English language). The life of being an engineering major. Good thing I fucking love it, otherwise I'd probably end up killing myself.

Here's a picture of me from this past saturday before heading out to gay night at the local bar.

Cheers.