So, We’re Up To Date Then?

I came out as Christine fully in January 2011, via Facebook, which, in retrospect, was probably not the wisest idea. It caused a bit of a ruck in my family, and amongst the in-laws. I received a lot of stick from several aunties, my mother and a cousin, but, on the whole, most people were very supportive. I did lose one or two friends though. The next step was presenting to the outside world as a woman. This caused me a great deal of consternation. What would happen? Would I get abused as soon as I walked out the door? I started leaving the house with my fiancee wearing,  jeans, jumper black and pink trainers and padding in all the right places. Apart from a few odd looks from some younger people nobody seemed to react in any real way. I don’t know if this was my optimism or whether they just considered me just someone who looks slightly odd. Unfortunately I was still drinking off and on during this initial phase and I would feel one of two ways: While drinking I felt brave, a sort of “fuck ’em all” bravado which lasted as long as I had a beer. Once the alcohol wore off I started having panic attacks and feeling overwhelmingly nervous, unable to go out at all. Since kicking the booze I sometimes feel a minor nervousness when leaving home but not much more. I still get an “all eyes are on me” feeling when I’m in a crowded place but no more panic attacks or fear of the outside.

Well, week before last (7th March, to be precise), I managed to screw my courage to the sticking plate, (I think that’s the phrase), and went to see my GP. Fortunately for me he is a very understanding person. He listened to everything I had to say and then proceeded to write a referral on the condition that I had a blood test due to the amount of alcohol I used to consume. I agreed to this and went for it. I attended the follow-up appointment on the 14th. To my surprise my thyroid, liver and other levels were well within normal parameters!! My blood pressure was a little high, but the doctor put this down to my slightly excessive salt consumption. I was expecting to find serious damage to my liver at least. My GP was also surprised but happy enough to write the referral to the local CMHT (Community Mental Health Team) for assessment and screening. I was a little worried about this but have found out that this simply involves ensuring that I don’t have any other mental health problems that need addressing prior to psychiatric referral.

I think I have now developed OCD! I keep running up and down the stairs every morning, looking for the letter from CMHT with my appointment. It’s only been five days!!  ARRRGH!

 

You’ve Gotta Start Somewhere…..

Just to start, I apologise if this part of the blog appears a little disjointed but I am writing from memory and trying to keep certain events and people out of the narrative without losing too much in the way of context. Besides it’s only an overview to give you, dear reader, a passing aquaintance with my background, a point of reference, if you will.

Many transgender blogs/stories start from the person’s moment of birth. I think that I can skip that bit, and most of the life leading up to this moment. I have known that I was born in the wrong body from my earliest days. I just didn’t have the knowledge to put it into words. There was no World Wide Web, the internet was something that was generally limited to large companies, academic institutions and the military and government. I first came across the word ‘transsexual’ when I was 12, in a newspaper article about an actor and his transsexual girlfriend. I asked my cousin what it meant and she told me it was “a man who became a woman”. Bang, that was it. A thousand watt light illuminated my mental landscape. I finally had a description of what I had been feeling for all these years. I now had a point of reference. I eventually scooted down to the library and began digging through all the books I could find that might have a bearing on the subject, and found that nearly every description I could find matched what I was feeling. Once I started finding names I was able to start finding biographies: Jan Morris, Renee Richards, Coccinelle, April Ashley. Reading these had a profound effect on me, giving form and substance to the mental confusion that would eventually coalesce and become Christine. There was one effect that was not so good, which has affected me most of my life. I have never had a great sense of self-confidence. I have always avoided confrontation and tried to stay out of fights by pretending to be invisible. Reading these stories, it was the bullying, the scorn heaped onto these heroines by ignorant, intolerant people that scared me the most and set the pattern of my life with regard to Christine.

Over the years Christine popped up now and again when my confidence was at a reasonably high level ( and my parents were out, or I was round a gay friends house). Most of the time, though, she remained hidden. One side effect of hiding this side of me was that I started drinking. At first it wasn’t too bad. A few drinks in my parents pub with my friends, then visits to the off license before going to different pubs. Then during work & college hours I started going to the pub (I was an RAE electronics apprentice at the time). Gradually it became worse and worse. Eventually I was forced, by circumstance, to attend an AA meeting. This put me off the booze for a while, even celebrating my 18th birthday with apple juice while everyone else was on champagne. But the abstinence never lasted. In the mean time Christine was coming through more and more, sometimes at the most inappropriate of times (one of which was a situation which ended up with a gun pointed at me and the holder very ready to pull the trigger). After being kicked out of the bedsit I was living in at the time I moved back with my parents, who, thankfully, had left the pub business. I finally left RAE, (with a “Satisfatory” pass on my apprentice deeds), in 1988 and went out into the big wide world of real work. The next eight years were a mix of Electronics/IT jobs, visits to the pub and fighting with the burgeoning Christine. Then, in 1996, I met the girl who became my wife.

Between 1996 and 2006 lay some of the happiest and saddest years of my life. I will not go into them as it would reveal too much about her family and I would not like to embarrass them or cause them further heartache. Suffice to say, my wife passed away in 2006, I eventually moved out of the family home with an even worse alcohol problem due to her passing and ended up in a small flat in the bottom of Aldershot town. Eventually, with the help of friends and certain relatives I have managed to kick the drink, (apart from a couple of dives off the wagon, now sorted), for good and am now engaged to a lovely woman whom I love very much and who is fully supportive of my transgender nature.

Here endeth the first lesson.

Conclusion: Even the shortest biography is longer than you think.