10 Jun 2008
Well, I tried St John's Wort and Sam-e, and Kava Kava, and I didn't like how any of it made me feel. They just made me feel spacey and sort of stoned, but not in a good way. My friends keep suggesting things, and I keep trying them. I don't want to use regular western medicine drugs, but I'm beginning to wonder if I should anyway. Plern's working really hard for this wealthy, very demanding transwoman, and she needs my help badly. I try, but I move so slowly, and just can't get myself to make phone call after phone call. Every call, I have to gear myself up for. Sometimes I have to eat some ice cream before to give me energy and after to reward myself. I've made most of the calls, but I've also gained 10 lbs in the last 3 weeks. Yech!
It's so frustrating to talk to these people who don't get why you need a size zillion in a woman's shoe, and when they do get it, they don't like it. Plern uses this one vendor who carries shoes by a manufacturer who makes huge women's shoes, and some transwomen are so grateful to get anything that fits them, that they just snap it up. But they are butt-ugly, to tell the truth, and some transwomen feel like it's hard enough being trany, without having to wear butt-ugly shoes no self-respecting woman with a choice would ever wear! They want to be beautiful, and feminine--well this one sure does. I mean, we've found some nice stuff on the net for MTF's with feet as big as size 11 or 12, but beyond that--forget it. Thisone is going to have to get a custom design. If I had any energy and courage, I'd consider starting a business of designing and making feminine clothing and shoes and accessories in male-sized sizes. No I wouldn't--that's a lie. I just wish someone would do it for these poor transwomen!
My therapist seems to be kind of leaning toward wanting me to try anti-depressant medication, just because it's so hard for me to do everything--including making use of therapy. I can't even get to what's making me so depressed, because I'm just too depressed.... Well, is that fucked up or what!? Anyway, she's usually right, so I'm going to just talk to the psychiatrist she referred me to. I hate the idea of seeing a psychiatrist--only crazy people do that. What if the psychiatrist wants to lock me up or something? What if she makes me take some drug that turns me into a zombie, or makes me crazier or something? What would people think if they knew I was seeing a psychiatrist? It makes me feel like just blurting it out to get the tension over with, like, "yes, I'd like the 2 eggs over easy, a side of bacon, and I'm seeing a psychiatrist." What a geek.