After I attempted my life last year, I realized that I could simply no longer go on. I had to transition. I was so miserable that death was far, far preferable to the lie that was my life as a man.
One way or the other, my old life was just over. At that point, I didn't really care what happened. It was sort of liberating in a way. Transition pretty much had to be better than what I was feeling. Hey, if it wasn't, well, I guess I'd have taken the big sleep. But I knew it would be better, and so far it has been. It hasn't always been easy or fun, but at least the stuff I experience feels like I'm really living my life now, and not just going through the motions, pretending to be something I'm not.
As for my old life - I kind of look at it like this. Imagine your life is a car that you are driving. You are about to crash your car, either into a guardrail, or an oncoming semi, or both if you aren't careful. There is nothing you can do - the wreck is inevitable. You may have some slight control over how BAD it is. Your car is going to get totaled - your goal is to try to leave the wreckage alive. So you dodge and weave, trying to minimize the damage you'll personally take. Most everything else, though, is going to be a real mess.