I suppose I'm privileged in a way to have access to the NHS, which is frustratingly slow and sub-standard at dealing with most things (you can go a couple of years without treatment, and even then it is often of the 'budget' variety) but it does get things done eventually if you're persistent enough. I have a lot of sympathy for people in other parts of the world where gender reassignment is an impossible dream due to a lack of finances.
I recently participated in a local NHS survey about services for LGBT people, in which I asked them to consider the fact that many patients with Gender Dysphoria suffer terribly for a long time - sometimes many years or decades - before getting to a crisis point at which they realise they can no longer persist in living as their birth gender. This is a very common and it is certainly what happened with me. I've known that 'something' was wrong since I was 5 years old, but it wasn't until I was 19 that I first heard of someone having had a sex change and figured out exactly what was wrong with me. Then I tried to avoid/ignore my deep-seated problems with my body for twenty-one years before I arrived at a crisis point where I realised I couldn't possibly continue any longer being treated as a female by society.
The problem is: I went to my doctor because I'd hit a crisis point. The last thing someone in crisis needs to hear is that they'll have to wait months before they can actually do anything to make themselves feel better. I hit the wall in June but I still haven't even heard from the Gender Clinic that will eventually be treating me. That's not good enough. Many transgender people consider or attempt (or commit) suicide when we hit that crisis point so we need to be seen much more urgently, and I don't think the medical profession fully appreciates the huge mental and emotional anguish that accompanies living in the wrong body, and what it can drive an otherwise sane person to do to themselves.
So I have a period of several months before I can get any treatment, and in that time I'm trying to keep myself sane by making whatever small changes I can to help me feel a bit better:
- I'm spending a lot of time in the gym doing cardio (to reduce my female fat distribution) and weights (to improve my overall musculature).
- I've cut my hair short, in a surfer-dude style. It's hard to find a short style that won't lead to me being misidentified as a lesbian, which is something that would make me extremely uncomfortable.
- I came out to my immediate family, who have responded in various ways. My elder brother is supportive, and my husband & kids are trying to get used to the idea. I have a long road ahead of me... but I only have one life and I don't want to go to my grave having spent my entire life trying to be something I'm not.
- I've selected a male name that I use in public places. Apart from Starbucks, who write that name on my take-out cup - and I'm not yet ready to be 'outed' at work!
- I've spent quite a bit of money on men's clothing, which I wear exclusively. Shoes are a problem as my feet are a size 4/5, but that's what the boys' department is for. ;-)
- I bought an excellent binder from Amazon, which was delivered in very discreet packaging. I wear this every day.
- I've always spoken with a lowered voice since I was about 12, but lately I've been deliberately lowering it and speaking more slowly, particularly when in public.
- Since my hips widened (age 8) I have deliberately walked with my feet slightly further apart than is natural, to alleviate the hip-swaying gait that comes from my (unfortunately) gynaecoid hips. I've been concentrating on doing this a lot more now, and have changed other aspects of my gait by giving myself permission to walk with my hands in my belt loops and by pushing my chest out - something I've not done since The Girls started developing when I was 7. My shoulders are permanently slumped forwards due to many years of trying to conceal my chest.
Last night I watched a documentary about FtMs in the UK, and whilst I found their stories inspiring I was a bit disheartened by the long time periods for which they had to wait. It was quite an old documentary (I think it was from 1999) but still, seeing those poor guys waiting months between appointments, and having to pretty much beg medical professionals for permission to let them be who they are, was a bit of a downer to say the least. Cis people don't need someone else's permission to get on with their lives; why should we? Oh, and one of the people assessing a patient to determine whether he would be 'allowed' gender reasssignment was a vicar. A VICAR? I don't want any damn vicars involved in my case. I'm a staunch atheist and the Church of England has no relevance to my life or my decisions. I sincerely hope they don't still require a vicar on the panel.
So I'm still waiting to see the Gender Clinic in London. My local shrink told me there was about a 3-month waiting list, but the Clinic's website says their wait is more like 6 months - so it's unlikely I'll be seen before February next year. And that will probably just be for an initial consultation, followed by another consultation some time later (months, maybe?), before I can actually do something about the gender dysphoria that has plagued me for almost 40 years now. The wait is agonising.
On the one hand, I've been waiting so damn long I shouldn't be concerned about waiting a bit longer. I know that. But on the other hand, I've been trying (and failing) to cope for so long, including about 20 years of trying unsuccessfully to be a 'woman', that I'm at crisis point and I need to move forward NOW, not at somebody else's leisure.
Dammit!
No comments:
Post a Comment