Found a 33 year old poem . . .

[melissaK]

So I am cleaning up a file drawer throwing out decades of utility bills and long ago paid off credit card statements and found a file labelled miscellaneous. Inside was an odd collection of personal documents that have stayed with me over the years - some vanity stuff like newspaper clipping of articles I was mentioned in, some sentimental greeting cards with nice inscriptions from people who mean something to me, some pen and ink drawings I have done that I judged as keepers.

And then there was a poem I had written at age 24, May 1978, complaining about my sexuality evading me . . .

Today at age 57 this poem was quite a look back. 33 years ago was pre-internet, heck it was pre-PC, and it was pre-GLBT rights. I was such a mess then. It's clear from the poem I wasn't happy as a man, and I had no idea what to do.

I know that several months after that poem was written I went into suppressing all that confusion I felt and did my best to move on in a traditional male role way. That suppression caused me a lot of mental health problems, including repressed memories and dissociative identity disorder issues at its worst.

I've come a long way ladies . . . I guess we all have.

hugs,
'lissa

[Julia_in_Pa]

I raise a shot glass of whiskey to you Melissa.


Julia

[MC-lite]

I've come a long way ladies . . . I guess we all have.

I raise a shot glass of whiskey to you Melissa.

A shot of whiskey for everybody!

182068

[abigailf]

Cheers to you and thank you internet.

[Jorja]

Cheers to you!

If it is not asking too much, could you share your poem? I realize it may be a very personal piece to you and understand if you chose not to share it.

[DebbieL]

I remember that after my mom died, my dad sent some old report cards and a book of poems I'd written. They were very dark, even suicidal, and were so much so that my mom had me see a doctor about the issues involved, the ones she knew about.

I knew I wanted to be a girl when I was 2 years old. I preferred to play with girls and only had one male friend, and much of that was because I liked to play with his sister as well. It was only when a mother saw me in her daughter's pretty dress and totally freaked that I realized this might be a problem. I couldn't play with the girls any more, but I'd dress up in my mom's clothes, enjoying the feeling of the fabrics, and remembering a time when I had lots of friends (all girls) and wanted to go to school to be with them. My mom eventually caught me, and tried to be understanding. She even bought me a pair of blue tights. My dad was less understanding and tried to re-purpose the tights by getting me a red "cape" and a blue t-shirt so I could be a "super-hero". It wasn't quite the same. In fact, it was my dad's refusal to accept or even discuss my issues. I found out many years later that he was transgendered too, and wanted to spare me the pain that came with being labeled a "Sissy" and being bullied by the kids. Unfortunately, it was already too late.

When I was born, I didn't have testes, and my dad had to give me the "birds and bees" lecture early, when I was 10, so that I wouldn't freak out when I realized that I was "different". He told me that they would drop down, or if they didn't by the time I was 12, they would do a surgery to help them come down. I asked him if I could just leave them up there, where they belonged, but he told me that wasn't an option. When they did drop, I was furious, almost frantic to make them go away. I tried to push them back, tried to crush them, tried to break them, even tried wrapping them with rubber bands or string to strangle them. Nothing worked.

When I was 14, the choir teacher insisted that I audition for Choir. I had sung as a soprano in the church Junior Choir, so I agreed. When she started checking out my range and realized that I had almost 3 octaves from C above middle C to 2 octaves below middle C - below the Bass Cleff, she insisted that I join the Choir as a Bass. I agreed, but I wasn't happy about it. For me, having a Bass voice meant I could never be a girl. I started drinking and drugging with a bad crowd. By the end of 9th grade, I was almost 16 years old, the booze and drugs caught up with me. I ended up falling over due to a pinched nerve in my neck or back - but it was mis-diagnosed as Epilepsy (the high peaks on the EEG were detox caused).

I often drugged myself into blackouts. During the blackouts, my feminine personality or personalities took over. One form was as a "****", going down between the legs of women, and I think even men sometimes, and giving them pleasure, but not letting them even touch me "down there". The other form was the "Bitch" with a nasty mouth and attitude that didn't think much of men in general, and macho men in particular. I frequently got into trouble and had to be rescued by my much larger and protective friends who were 6'3", 6'6", and 6'9" and willing to protect me even though I was an idiot.

When those poems were written, I knew that I wasn't "gay". But I also knew that I couldn't function normally with a girl either. I knew I wanted to be a girl, and it seemed like the only possibility left was to die and perhaps get a chance to reincarnate into .female body. Ideally, I would have full memory of my life as a boy wanting to be a girl, and my previous life where I remembered that I really enjoyed being a girl. I had had dreams and even nightmares since I was about 4 years old of being in a car, wearing a pretty 1950s style party dress, and kissing my boyfriend, and then relaxing afterword. But then somebody hit him over the head and strangled me to death. I think they may have blamed my boyfriend for the murder. I remember the blue convertible, wearing a blue dress to match, and even how much I wanted to kiss and play with him. I realized later that we had had sex together, and that the murderer was killing me because I was such a "****".

I had hoped that I could have a similar reincarnation and come back as a girl. But I couldn't commit suicide, it had to be an accident.

In the weeks that I wrote those poems I was trying to get myself killed. I was taking 40mg of valium a day for the epilepsy, and drinking booze and smoking pot or opium or both - then walking down the middle of a 4 line highway that was barely lit. I survived, but it wouldn't be the last time I would try to stage the "reincarnation suicide" gambit.

I had a hard time telling ANYONE about my desire to be a girl, and even when I did get up the courage to express it, was usually shot down, even by therapists, psychologists, and social workers. They were more interested in my past and my drug use, and pretty much ANYTHING BUT my gender identity issues.

At 56

I was driving up from Virginia to New Jersey when I started having pains in my jaw, shoulder, and arm down to my wrist. I wanted to get home, rather than be stranded in the middle of no-where miles away from wife, doctors, and support, so I kept driving. Part of me was actually hopeful that this would be the big one, and I'd be getting the chance to switch into a girl's body. I made it home, and decided that I would call the doctor the next morning, "just to prove that it was nothing". It turned out to be something and I was sent to the Emergency room. If my wife hadn't been there, I might have actually let it end right there. The combination of Nitro, a shot in the stomach, and other emergency drugs triggered a reaction where my blood pressure shot from 196/120 with a heart rate of 53 to 90/30 with a heart rate of 30 - and I was seeing the bright light.

I survived, and realize that I'm stuck in this male body for a while longer. I have to admit though, the thought of spending the next 20-30 years in a male body is far more difficult to accept than the possibility of some bright lights, and ending up in the body of a girl - infant or teenager. I could hope for a "heaven can wait" scenario, or "Switch", or like the episodes in Ghost Whisperer where her husband jumps into a dying man's body and comes back to life.

I wish I had known what I know today when I was 20. I realize that many wonderful things have happened to me in my life since that poem was written, but I can't help but wonder and wish what would have happened if I had been able to share my desire to be a girl, and had found someone who could really support that and encourage my transition.

[Persephone]

Like Michaela, I want to raise a toast to all of us who made it to this community through all of the bad times. It remains a sometimes rocky road, but I think we're finally home.

Hugs,
Persephone.

[MC-lite]

@Persephone: I should have brought two bottles. :)

L'chiam!

[Karinsamatha]

I am not there yet but getting closer day by day :). So I brought another bottle to add.
:hugs::drink::drink:

[Sophora]

A lot of my poems are dark and very uncharacteristically feminine(for the time). I even had someone who worked in book publishing tell me that I was too young to write some of the stuff I did.

I am thinking about taking my poems and releasing them on Amazon's kindle(self-published maybe I will).

However, I will raise my glass to you as well.

[Noemi]

I had to put the bottle down many years ago. So I will forgo the toast and stick to my herbal tea tonight.

Thank you for sharing Melissa and Debbie, you are making me cry. There is a trail of tears on the board tonight.

What you had to say about repressing ourselves as trans sexual, and the unfortunate mental health issues that are consequence, is so true. What can I say, I want to just pour it all out, that is the effect the truth can have. I ran to drugs and booze, but my brain is made of titanium(well not really, just extremely focused), never a black out, just miserable addiction, can not run anyway.

Now I am healing myself, in the processes of learning how to do this. I am feeling better, the least depressed I have ever been because I am letting myself be a woman more and more, that it is ok to be what I am.

Thank you.

♥♥♥
Noemi

[ColleenA]

I even had someone who worked in book publishing tell me that I was too young to write some of the stuff I did.

Pardon my rant, but why do so many adults think that the emotions and thoughts children and even teens experience have no true merit? It doesn't matter if the child is saying they are the wrong gender or the teen is thinking of taking their life. Too often, adults brush them aside as if their feelings don't count. Fortunately, though, somehow, many endure and are finally able to deal with their issues, no thanks to Mom or Dad or whoever else wouldn't make time for them.

OK, having gotten that off my chest, I wanted to share a story tangentially-related to Sophora's comment that I came across recently. Many people have been moved by the lyrics to "Suicide is Painless," from the movie M*A*S*H. But how many know that the words were written by a 14-year-old, the son of the movie's director, Robert Altman? Altman apparently was paid $70,000 to direct the movie, but his son has earned more than $2 million in royalties from that one song!

Gotta love the fickle finger of fate.

[melissaK]

@jorja I'm not a particularly good poet, mercifully its short:

Living in reality,
I can't seem to be.
Established acts to value,
chosen not by me.
Always do I examine,
you I can not see.
Nothing that I can assume,
who determines me?
Why do I seem so diffrent,
I can't seem to be.
Why do you evade me,
sexuality? (4/1978)

hugs,
'lissa

[Noemi]

@jorja I'm not a particularly good poet, mercifully its short:

Living in reality,
I can't seem to be.
Established acts to value,
chosen not by me.
Always do I examine,
you I can not see.
Nothing that I can assume,
who determines me?
Why do I seem so diffrent,
I can't seem to be.
Why do you evade me,
sexuality? (4/1978)

hugs,
'lissa

It Ain't bad at all. And is dark, but says it doesn't it. Youth can speak truth with less filters, and maybe less technique, but raw truth is strong enough. This is how you were feeling.
I always felt like this, I did not belong anywhere as a child. I am a gifted athlete, that makes things easier for me. But not really because I was then lumped in with the boys, where I did not really ever feel comfortable...it is Poem time...

Thank you for posting your poem.

♥♥♥
Noemi