Introduction
This is not my current state of mind. I was in a state of despair. I can swear to you on my honor this is completely true. Life isn’t easy for a transsexual like me because of the lack of education. People hate and fear what they don’t understand. I have placed my hope and time to educated people. This book is not censored or edited in any way most of this was written at that time not after so things may sound morbid but I assure you I am against suicide. I will however pretend it doesn’t happen or try and tell you not to ever do drugs because you have control of your life. I went through a lot but no one can be compared to another person. Everyone goes through periods of hardship but that is what life is about. Without bad there would not be good. I know I am not alone and I want everyone to know they are not alone. Most things are in chronological order but it still might be confusing and I apologize. I began writing this book around the time I was thirteen. I got the idea from a man who was color blind. Through his life he was asked questions like “what is it like?’’ how do you see?’ and ‘why can’t you see color?’ Though many adults and children asked it seemed they always were repeating question and when one finally understood sort of another would appear. It was the same thing I live with and I could relate to him. He told me if I wanted to tell lots of people I should write a book then lots of transsexuals would be spared the interrogations. From that day on I wrote hoping he was right. So thanks Paul. It was mostly written at times I was angry or frantic. It also reads odd because I am just fifteen years old and still confused about a lot but I think it makes me real not fake. I just am trying to let you see what its like to walk around in my skin. my entry’s in the journals or even my suicide note may not make sense seeing that they have no dates unfortunately I was barely able to write much less remember and place the date but everything in this book is in chronological order as far as I can tell. Thank you for at least looking and reading this far.
My story
I was born on October 8 1990. I was declared female. My mother never knowing what I was to be like when I grew up named me Julie Marie Garcia. My relatives were all there because I was the first granddaughter. My father was an illegal immigrate when my mom got pregnant with me. He left after she told him. She decided then she wasn’t going to let him ever see me plus she didn’t even really like him to begin with. Right now I have never met him and he is married living someplace like Nebraska. He tried to meet me
When I five and my mother refused since then he has not tried to contact us. I was sexually molested by my mother’s next significant other. I however am not writing about that but instead other important events. My mother separated from him then month I turned ten because they were fighting a lot. I waited till I was thirteen to tell my mother I was sexually molested and that I was gay. (I assumed I was gay). I probably would have not told my mother had she not been homosexual herself. She is with a nice lady named Bonnie. She is really wonderful and has been a great friend to me in fact I told her about everything before I told my mom. Then I started having problems. I got in police and school trouble. I was then taken to a residential treatment center. I was in and out of them because I am intelligent and knew how to manipulate them into releasing me. I did not like the RTC it was strict. When I was omitted I was stripped search and my clothing I brought was inspected thoroughly. I was given my clothes back but my shoelaces were removed my belt and my shorts with a string in them. I was then given a bucket labeled with my name the bucket contained a toothbrush, comb, deodorant, conditioner, toothpaste. The bucket was locked in a room that also contained towels shampoo. We were allowed our hygiene bucket at 6:00 pm. this was designated shower time. Our daily schedule was 8::00 we were awaken and given breakfast. Our meals were eaten in an area know as the den. The layout of the building was simple it had six rooms and a large area in which a TV and three tables and several benches that were weighed so no normal child could even slid them. The large room we ate and spent the majority of time in. we had group therapy 4 times a day for an hour. These were spent talking with a therapist. No one stayed to long it was after all temporary care unit so someone could be here to day and gone tomorrow or even in the middle of the night. Vitals were taken often and we had talks with a physiologist briefly. This is not the ideal place I did not desire help at this time. I was known as a drug user (not heavy though), a self mutilator and a suicidal person. I was put on more medicines then I could count and for many reasons. I had finally revealed my sexual abuse from my father when all that happened. I got out of there after three months and was sent to similar place except it was better. I had a lot more freedom then after nine more months I was took to a foster home to see if I could function in the outside world. I have many demons to deal with and then I knew not how to deal with them. I am not saying I am cured now but have improved and my coping skills are better. . I have many demons to deal with and then I knew not how to deal with them. I am not saying I am cured now but have improved and my coping skills are better. Now I am at home adjusting and things aren’t too rocky. I didn’t yet know I was transsexual. Well I knew but I didn’t know there was an official term. I just thought I was a wrong person. When I was very young I beloved completely I was male. It wasn’t till I was at the age of eight that I knew I was called female. When you become eight in school they begin to separate boys and girls in two lines. I would sand in the boys line but was told to move. This confused me. I knew I was just like a boy and I felt like one but everyone said different. I didn’t know really know why till I was aware of anatomy and my lacking in male genital s was somehow where they got the idea I was a girl. Then I was at a school where there was separate bathrooms based on gender. It was hell for me I knew I did not belong. I was torn I felt like I was invading forbidden territory in the girls but I was thrown out of the guys. I finally was done with the embarrassment a frustration decide I would use neither. I would hold my need to urinate until the end of school and if I didn’t make it I went home soiled. I hide my backside during school and at home I hand washed my clothes so my mom wouldn’t see then when they dried I put them in the hamper. I would not tell my mom any of my feeling and especially not my “dad” because in my family it was wrong to express yourself. I always was buddies with guys because girls were so weird and icky then. I was told I was a tomboy. I figures that was what I was and they said I would grow out of it eventually. I had one main guy I would hang with named James Brown. We were both outcasts so we stuck around each other. We often wrestled and fought. I didn’t really like him much but he was a human who would talk to me so I accepted him. I really remember we hated school because we were different and all so we dreamed. We would say we were from another planet. We had both been placed incorrectly in wrong bodies by accident when sent to scout out earth by our home planet the moon. I was in a girl’s body and he was stuck in a body way too young. I guess we need a way to explain why we didn’t fit in. Everyday we had to scout out a certain teacher or find out something or another. It passed the time and our imagination was never ending. I think when we were our characters we were what and who we wanted to be it was an easy escape. I just floated everywhere else never really feeling anything except when I read. One day though I began to lose my way of dealing. I began to see my surroundings for once. I saw a lot but mainly what was on my mind was the girls weren’t so icky anymore in fact they were interesting. I remember one girl really well because she named in a way. I liked her and James said if I liked her I should ask her out. I had no idea what the hell that meant but I wanted to prove I wasn’t scared. I got in a big fight with James though because he tried to ask her out. I guess it was machismo or something because I had to hit him even though she wasn’t mine. Fist flew for awhile then I ran up to her and asked her out but she said she was going out with some guy already. She was never mine but I was influenced by her. All I know is I have always been real territorial and I always got to act tough and people say that’s because I’m macho. I don’t know really if that’s true but I guess that’s how I’m wired I’m way too masculine and I think that’s what they mean. Anyway this is how she named me. Once day I walked up to her and a friend of hers and asked her would she go out with me she said she wouldn’t because I was a girl. I was horrified. I said I was not a girl!! Her friend said yes you are because your name is girly. I didn’t want to admit I had no idea why because then I would look weak. There was no way I was going to let a girl make me look stupid and weak that was unacceptable. So I said I was changing it. Then I ran over to James and asked for suggestions. He came up with stupid names so I ran back to her and asked what I should make my name. Her friend suggested Tom because of tomboy. I said some kid was named that already. She said how about David wasn’t taken and was pretty cool. I hung on her every word so I agreed besides it stuck well. From then one I told everyone my name was David who asked. Well I didn’t tell teachers or parents but at that age they aren’t anybody anyway. Most of the rest of my childhood is foggy till I turned ten. All I really remember is always being alone and never talking and spending most of my time with books. One book that really gave me hopes it was called “The Gentleman and me Ali. It is a book about a girl who lives with a mean aunt and uncle till her father comes to pick her up. Her mother died when her father went west to find work. Her father wrote and sent money to her aunt and uncle but they treated her like a maid. She gets tired of heir treatment and runs away to find her father. She soon finds out life on the run as a girl is harder than it is for a boy. She cuts her hair and steals some guy clothing plus she is young enough to not worry about her blossoming (I had no idea what that meant then).Disguised as a guy life is still tough but she befriends a man who calls himself the gentleman outlaw because despite being a con man he refuses to be rude and sticks to his morals. She sticks with him all across the west and he never knows she is a girl. She meets her dad and has to go back to a girl. When I read this my mind formed plan. I would wait till I was old enough to get work then run off to somewhere where they don’t know me and be a guy. I would not tell anyone and I would get a wife and life would be perfect. I held on so dearly to this dream. I use it to survive for so long. In my room I would think of being able to have a goatee and be real strong or have a son who I’d take fishing or be a famous soccer player. Then I was ten. My “dad” left and moved to apartments across town. I was glad because I didn’t like him but I didn’t let that show. I didn’t know till then that he wasn’t really my father before I had always thought he was my dad. I remember it was a few weeks later that my mom was told my “dad” had been married to Kelly. I already knew Kelly because she was my aunt’s girlfriend. Oh I forgot to mention that one of my aunts is gay. But I met Kelly even before that because she had four girls with this guy she was married to for fourteen years before she divorced him. They both owned the local arcade and my family frequently visited there. Then Kelly and my aunt got together. After my dad moved out actually they moved into our home. So we were really shocked that she had just gotten married to my “dad”. I was the only one of my four siblings that knew that my aunts friend was a really her lover. Not because I had been told but I just am more observant that my brother and two sisters are. My siblings are Rueben, Stephanie and Rebecca born in that order I am the eldest. All this was a lot to chew and seemed like a soap opera. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about my dad but this was fucking weird. I mean there are what fifty billion other girls he could have but he picks her??!? I mean why does he wan to fuck his ex girlfriend’s sister?!? (My mom and dad never got married so technically they were just dating for ten years)My mom was allowed me and Rebecca and my dad got Rueben and Stephanie. I don’t remember a lot after that except we moved to Blanco where my mo could have better jobs. Rebecca was so small she was watched by my aunts or something for the night. My mom worked really late at night till early in the morning at a nursing home. I stayed in the car with her or at her job on the couches. My mom also worked at a bowling alley as a cook. . Her friend Sue worked there too. I didn’t know sue but my mom and her where roommates when me and Sue’s kid Jeremy was born and they’d didn’t stop being roommates till their house burned down and they went separate ways. Sue brought Jeremy to work just like my mom brought me. He is three months older than me so we hung out. He and I were complete opposites. He was loud, funny, outgoing, talkative and sociable. He was everything I wasn’t so he fascinated me. He taught me how to be truly free. With his help I learned to listen to my opinions and to make decisions. He made it so I learned how to make friends. He is one of my best friends and at that times my only friend. I went to his house one day though it’s not a mansion or even special it was my heaven then. We were so happy and free. We were fearless and invincible together. I remember fondly climbing roofs loving the thought of danger and soaking up the views. We would roam the woods around his house. They seemed endless and we never seemed to lose our way .We created countless experiments when it rained with everything in his kitchen, bathroom and living room. He should me a world beyond books. A way of life I thought was impossible. I realized all I had missed in my younger years. I recognize I had the ability to think for myself to find friends and decide things. One of the happiest days of my life was when after we begged my mom she let me live with Sue. I recall that summer as the one that seemed to last forever yet was too short. Those were the most carefree days of my life and I am certain I shall never feel like that ever again. I am always reminded that great things come to an end. School started a few months later and I was in a different grade than Jeremy. Though Jeremy was a great person but he didn’t know he was my crutch and without him I would fall horribly. School was eight hours of shame once again. Only this time it was worse because I knew what I was missing and it hurt more than when I didn’t know what it was like have friends. I was an outcast despite the fact I was friends with the very well known popular Jeremy. I was just too weird for everyone plus I was not white which wasn’t taken lightly in Jeremy’s town. Boys sneered at me because I was a girl who acted like a guy and the girls said I was a fagot freak. Eight hours of pure bigotry and taunts is enough to break anyone’s spirit. On the bus ride home with Jeremy I felt fearless again. I cussed like a sailor and had so many scuffles I could hold my head high. Even though I now dislike senseless fighting I can’t help but feel proud of my fights. I was respected through fear and I was accepted in Jeremy’s neighborhood. My mom finally found a home and wanted me back and I kind of missed her so I went back with her. I thought that I could do okay now armed with Rock n roll and confidence. Jeremy showed me real music and I don’t know how I functioned without it. I think it was fate that decided I wasn’t going to be someone who flew but only under someone’s wing. I think it was destiny for me to evolve as I have through hardship. I said that I was happier than ever when I was around Jeremy but I had just busted the tip of the iceberg I was going to find. I was to find. I didn’t know I could be more than a shadow I could lead not follow. I was taught sublimely to ignore all feelings because you look weak and weakness was intolerable. Every instinct and feeling was to be bottled and stored in that closet of you mind. Memories could only bring horror and hate so why bother? I was to learn that they don’t disappear but instead wait to explode and drain out of you all energy. I was doing well then but shortly my door would open and everything I didn’t want to remember would come flowing back overfilling like a broken fire hydrant. There I was scraping by when the bomb labeled puberty hits me. It was when I noticed my chest err... changing when I started paying attention to sex education and what I discovered shattered my precious dreams like china in a shooting gallery. Now I knew what the fuck blossoming meant and hell I was furious. My Grandma as clueless as everyone bought me a damn bra. I buried that loathed object in a drawer reserved for dresses, earrings and other detested gifts. I was going to wear those when Lucifer hands out snow cones in Hades. At an early age my mom figured out I was not feminine. I always felt so sick perverted and dirty when I wore those objects meant for females. Later someone told me I was a sick, gross thing for wearing guys’ clothes. I felt even more alienated. Sex education was given in school as well as the puberty talk. Now equipped with knowledge I was indeed a girl and was going to not be able to able to pretend I wasn’t when I was older. This was when I took my first step into a spiral of despair. My mom finally forced me to wear a bra. I think I would have felt the same if she told me to go to school in the nude because I was just as mortified. I Was being pushed to dust off my tomboy ways and become a woman (yuck) in an obscured way. I was once or twice to quote “don’t knock it till you try it” meaning I should at least try to be a girly person. They didn’t know they were stabbing me because I really didn’t want to be a girl. If they had known I think things would have been different so I wish I would have expressed myself instead of just nodding my head. I finally tried being a girl I felt like a grotesque unnatural but what could I do I wanted to make everyone happy. I put on dresses I copied all the girls I put make up on felt like an actor just trying to say my lines right. After feeling immoral, coarse and nasty for long enough I said screw it. I told myself I am not meant to ever do anything right why I should even try. I started doing drugs mostly because I knew it would slowly kill me and that I would feel some relief. I hung with a fellow named Josef but went by Jade. By then I had shorted my name to Davy because I liked it more. We jammed out and slowly decided life was too bleak. We probably would have committed suicide had it not been for each other and a band named AFI. We both knew we self mutilated one ourselves but instead of hating our scars we wore them with pride. The reason I was proud was because I always harmed myself not only because of my loathing of myself but because it was the only pain I could control and I needed to feel like I had control over something. He knew I was a homosexual and he was cool with it ( later he” discovered” he was bisexual). I figured gay was what I was so I decided to tell the school. I really didn’t care what they thought but most of them thought that gay people were all freaky and I wanted them to know that it’s not like gay people are that different or even rare like they though. I knew several gay people that were in the closet and I wanted to help them too. I got asked a lot of question that assured me people are very naïve on this subject. I also however got a lot of taunting and beatings. I knew however that this was not what I really was I did like girls but since I felt like I was I guy I was truly heterosexual but I didn’t think there was a category for that so I felt like it was close enough. I started being confident and went to football games. I had a crush on this on girl in band. I knew a lot of the people in the band were curious, gay or bisexual. I was happy for awhile and my mom noticed. She asked why I liked going to the games so much and why I was suddenly so happy. I told I meet someone not wanting to tell her I was gay. Even though I knew Bonnie was my mom’s lover I didn’t want to tell her or my mom that I was gay because I felt like it would affect her additive toward me. I came home one day however buzzed and giddy from finally kissing the girl I liked. Bonnie and mom looked at me and asked how the game was? I said I think we won and I had a great time because she and I were talking most the time. I barely registered that I had said “her” when they both turned and looked at me and said they thought I would have been hanging with my boyfriend. I laughed and shouted boy?! Hell I wouldn’t trade her for any damn jock! Then it dawned on me I just told her I was with a girl. They just laughed and said” so joined the dark side huh? I replied with something to the affected of well there goes your grandkids from me. My mom said well there is still your brother. I knew then it was okay with them that I liked girls. I kind of felt bad though because that wasn’t the whole truth but I didn’t want to ruin anything by making it more complicated when I didn’t even know what the hell was up with me. I told Jade what happened the next day and he said that was pretty awesome because most people would flip and disown their kid. Then I told I felt guilty though. He said why. So I told him how I really felt like a male and wanted more than anything to be a guy who likes girls. he said he knew that he just didn’t know there was anybody like that so I was probably going to just going to say gay. A few weeks however was shuffling through a bunch of old newspapers in English class seeking comics I found and article saying “Girl trapped in boy’s body as a head line. I was instantly intrigued and grabbed the paper. I read the article realize though are wishes were in nature different he and I were very alike. I then realize I was not alone they mentioned he was ridiculed and beat for his clothing use of make up and actions. He committed suicide by hanging himself because his spirit could take no more. I kept the article because it reassured me I was not the only person with gender confusion. Still lacking an official term and the balls to explain to my mom I accidentally left the article on the kitchen table when she saw it she asked who it belonged to. I told I had found it and was interested in it. She said nothing but I was relived she didn’t freak or start saying how she disapproved. A few weeks later however she told me that she had worked with a guy who ahs moved away to California to have surgery to be a girl. She just kid of said it without any feeling it her words but the fact that she mentioned it made me feel a little better. I still wasn’t ready to tell her I was riding the same boat as him. Her saying he was getting surgery also make me wonder what she meant. All she had said was he/she had needed a lot of money for it. It was then I figured maybe I had after all. I then started research but in clandestine because I was very scared someone other than Jade would find out. I couldn’t ask even how to look for information I was blind and trying to my find my way.
Entries in journals in chronological order
I’m haunted a mere ghost. The true fear can never be shaken. I feel murdered every night by my fucking heart. It is bitter and filled with pus that reeks of malice. This is my punishment for following my road. Why must thought of a girl defy every thing I have been taught. How can I throw my guardians morals as though they were mere filth. I think of all we could be inside my fantasy. Why do I believe she is angelic how can she be if she does desire me she would be as damned as I for our sin. If I could only touch her skin feel her against me as we become one. I want the girl in my dreams. I reveal my scars and she sheds tears as she kisses the pain away. She understands my mutilation and never questions my soul’s destiny. I jump with rapture and shake with rapture unknown these feelings must be to mere mortals. I am worse than dead I’m numb with the exception of despair or fury. I might as well surrender all my desire for companionship knowing that pain and hate will only follow. Why are unbearable burdens thrown onto my weak shoulders? I know there’s something inside that says I’m not really gay I’m just the wrong sex but who can I tell. The moon shines a so beautifully I fall into ecstasy as the blood turns to midnight black in the moons radiance. I know I’m an inhuman monster but doesn’t very show need one? I feel as though life is a fucking play that we all act in as Shakespeare says. He was so true. I choose now not to be the victim or out cast or any other role I choose to be the villain. May I be the evil villain? I cannot bare another day as myself. No rather I do wish I could be myself instead the girl everyone wishes me to be. I put on my mask and wear it so they all leave me is but why do I allow myself to be a puppet for them. W hen I am perfectly capable of choosing my way. I guess I can only be the hated villain. I’m stuck in a pathetic world left to fester with my venomous thoughts and fears. Oh I have been told of a merciful god. So in blind faith I pray unto this god to end my dark life. Spare me the truth and hell of adulthood and kill me now. Why leave here I am in purgatory only I see those who laugh and live so I beg you to allow me to die and end this all. I need pain imp addicted into it bonnie doesn’t want me to but I have to even when I don’t need to I have to imp kind of scared I can’t stop. I m no owing to kill myself unless o have too I go through every motion my I still lack emotions. I can’t take this pain though I can cause myself pain but the sorrow is much worse. Despair fear is constantly haunting me. They consume me slowly. I just want some kind of end to this. if It doesn’t end by itself I have to end t in the only way I know I have a new bald carry it with me all the time I will use it if I have to I know just where to cut . I’m not going to leave a note they will probably see this and hate me. No one will ever understand and people hate and gear what they don’t understand. Help is unknown I ant sleep I can’t drink I can’t eat until I force myself but I don’t know why do I bother. I’m so scared, so scared my life is withering and I need help what do I do I’m so lost I can’t see a future and my I refuse to remember the past so do I even exist. I don’t want to end my life I just want to end this pain. I want to start new but I’m stuck in a never ending gale in a sinking ship I can’t take this pain but when write it helps. I hold myself in the lowest standard because I’m scared my eyes stay down cast I am nothing but and outcast who am I a mere broken shell in which painful memories can stain. Alas feared jesters I will avenge my pain but not without a broken spirit and a determined face. The more I think the less I feel the more I know the less I understand I cat stop these daggers from killing me if I could only stop the bloody scars from showing but they are mere symbols of my spirits state. Gone astray in dreams of death I feel revived. Who am I to keep smiles from innocent faces? I see the way the parent, the teacher, and everyone glares. I know to stay my distance but still I am beaten. Why must I be contrary? Lost in a wave of unaltered pain I saw a reflection of my self and broke the mirror because of the pure hatred I felt at seeing the hideous creature I am. I m burdened with the thought of fight for a lost cause. What is it I’m fighting for? Musty is the smell of rancid turmoil. Havoc has hit my mind. What message of despair will be delivered next what am I to do I try to sit and hold back tears when I hear the young and innocent surround me. I’m stuck in abyss of despair black are the curtains covering my bloodshot eyes. My shore is gone now one day before I tell all of my “fathers” actions. One day till the secrets die and become known. I have an even harder time telling then because of me seen his fucking smiling face. May he return to the depth of Hades and rejoin Lucifer I’m scared what if I err what if I pause or mix things up will they doubt me? I don’t want to have to be brave but no one else will. I can’t let him get away with it because I have suffered in ways I hope no one shall ever have to. If I could change those years I would be a different person. I can’t take this pain but I still have strength because I must go on for my family. Tomorrow I leave the wretched place. I have been here for five days I got to kiss some girl. I asked her to teach me how to french kiss and right way and she did. We had to sneak in the bathroom. At this moment I have found a purpose I will raise hell. That’s my reason to live I going to hell anyway so I might as will fuck up the people who have hurt me and might hurt me. I must be crazy tonight I’m thirsting for blood I want to hurt something I found a cat today I have it roped to a tree I am still deciding to murder or not to murder it. If bonnie doesn’t come and my mom sleeps as usual that cats life will be over. I don’t hate the cat I just want to hurt something. I can’t resist this urge. I’m sitting here watching my family get ready to depart to some town I hate this house I wish I had the balls to burn the fucker down to the ground. Sometimes I sleep in the car because I hate sleeping in the house. I am forced to stay here till my mom comes back from some dance. I cant go because I am frustrated and scared my mom doesn’t know this so of course she is pissed at me I wish I cold live in a house were no one messed with e or even knew I lived there I’m scared and my mom thinks I’m just pissed for no reason so my mom see rage. Already imp cutting and I truly wish I could go and get wasted or stoned. I hate everything and everyone right now. I wish I could hang out with anybody just to talk. I’m so mad and my mom expects me to stop cussing. I guess I should and start respecting her because she fucked some guy and had me. Hell I aunt going to love her for making me. She must hate me I know it. How else can I explain her looking at me like I’m a devil? She blames me for shit I didn’t do and acts like fuck up everything. Yeah but she feeds, gives me clothes and makes me feel like shit. Sometimes I don’t hate her but mostly I do. I’m amazed my mind still brings me so much pain. I am against myself. I chose girls who don’t need a second glance to see i'm a loser why can’t I find someone could possibly care for me. I’m probably not even human. loneliness is ingrained in every bone in my miserable frame I awake in despair and lay back in my coffin of hate to awake again the thought of living like this threatens my sanity where does my alcove of tranquility lie all I’m seeing is shore of more anger and pile of disgust. I know shame shines in me. I write this few days before I’m released from Cedar Crest After being there from September 2004 to May 2005. I haven’t written anything while I was here though my stay because it wass not eventful and I truly didn’t bother. I didn’t cry while saying bye to my friends . My friends were mainly the staff and a girl named Cherry. Cherry is like an older sister something I never had before. I’m in love with a girl named Siobhan but only time will say how long that will last. I say this simply because from experience no girl would sick around with me especially when we will now be in different towns. She already left here but we are in contact. I have a drawing she drew me its very talented work. She is an artist and plans to be a professional tattoo artist. I adore the drawing. I cried so much after I left during the car ride. This is important to mention because I have great difficulty crying. I think my tears were of uncertainty fear, loneliness, and of cores the tears I have held back. I wonder imp going next. I’m staying at my mom’s house for two weeks. Then I will probably go to a therapeutic foster home. I m home but there not much to occupy me. I find myself being irritable and easily frustrated. I’m questioning if going home forever is going to ever be an option. As I’m weighing the pros and cons I find the scale to be unbalanced. I do not think my return home is a healthy positive choice. In fact I’m afraid that it may cause me to descend the downward spiral. I worry that I shall turn once again to my old habits, the same habits that can and will destroy any man. It is Funny how I refer and see myself as a man. I have explained to my siblings that I will soon be their brother and my name is going to be Davy so they should call me that. They didn’t ask any questions like why and they could have ignored me I suppose. I continue to loathe my body I don’t think that will change without sex reassignment surgery. I am a guy and feel like one. I have the whole tough, macho attitude and even though I realize it I can’t stop doing it. It is like trying to hold my breath. I’m only explaining this because even if a guy is a virgin or has had sex a few times he has to lie and say he has screwed fifty girls. I mean it’s like an unsaid rule Or maybe I’m alone on the feeling that as soon as we started noticing girls in a good way we said all sorts of bullshit. I mean I hope me and Jade weren’t the only ones lying I mean you never really know who’s telling the truth and who is lying their teeth off. . I know I said I was all over the baseball field and saying I had done this and that when truth was I hadn’t even held anyone’s hand much less done anything else. Of course this was all after I had come out before that I was just trying to listen to what I was missing though every now and then I would slip up and say something like” yeah chicks hot “and then some guys would look at me funny. I’d half shout” I mean my friend said that so I assumed he was right. I wouldn’t know I’m not like that!! “. I have never done anything pass like kissing and maybe fumbling a grab or something. I mean it not that I don’t want hell I really want to but I feel like I can’t. I think it’s because I feel inadequate and unequipped and with that added on to everything else there is no way I could even try. I guess I feel like I wouldn’t be able to do what I wanted or give them anything they wanted because I don’t want to be touched on my chest or my groin so what’s the point. Also who the hell would I be able to explain all that to because of distrust and embarrassment? I know you can’t tell but I’m having a hard time letting this all out I mean this is really personal and really humiliating but I think it shows more of me. As I write I think also how little people realize that many of the things they never even notice I have to worry about. I guess that’s one of the reasons for writing this to expose myself so maybe a large amount of people will see life as a young female to male transsexual. No one really knows what its like to be me I mean sure there are for FTMs but none exactly like me. I awoke this morning alone. My siblings are attending school my mothers at work. I was prepared to take a shower when I stopped to write this because I felt as though I needed to document how as I undressed to step into the shower I glimpsed at the mirror on accident I was filled with total disgust and hatred. It was as if a wave of scorn slapped me at the reflection. I held back the urge to claw at myself and bled knowing at least my bloods the same. I wish I could explain that feeling and the one that follows it the feeling of helpless against nature. It’s maddening to know i’m all misses matched and I can’t do anything till i’m old enough and have enough money. I could feel my chest and was ashamed of it I began to scratch them as though it would make them go away of lessen. I think that’s why I started cutting myself. The sense of needing to change my body somehow the need of control of how some of my body looked to feel the only pain I could control. I nearly grabbed at a nearby razor but didn’t I refuse to cut. Even as I was showering I kept feeling the hate then arguing about cutting because I knew if I cut I could make the pain disappear even if it was for a little while. I can’t stop the feeling of hate it’s always there only sometimes its dormant but other times it dominates my thoughts to the point of insanity. I feel helpless over everything except the pay n I cause myself. I can’t control people I can’t control my life I can’t control my sex. Damn I can’t even control where I live. Fuck I’m waiting! I’m always just fucking waiting!! I am at the temporary foster home. The family put me in a program called the boys and girls club. I told this kid at first I was a girl when asked but it was too confusing for a kid her age so I decided I can be a boy here. I told the family they didn’t really care about that sort of thing and they call me Davy. Everyone here knows me as a 14 year old male named Davy except the head boss who isn’t saying anything because it’s fine with her. I met this kid we sometimes hang out so I guess he is my friend. I feel a big difference in the amount of tension and attention people pay to me now that they think I’m a biological male. Funny I feel like my friend and other males speak different to me. It as if they can confide in me and it is much less awkward. The club went swimming Friday it was a fun experience. I had a blast the only problem was that when my friend asked me why I left my shirt on. I told him that I was scared and embarrassed about some scars and some small breasts. Said they came from some weird gene and medicine my mom was on when I was young. I told him not to tell anyone this secret. This secret of course is a lie but I feel like this is an experiment to see if I can pass and if people are different to girls than they are to guys and I don’t want to ruin it. I only have a few problems at the club. One is urinating. It is obvious I can not be seen using the girls but I can’t go in the guys because I think they will notice also I think there is some law about using opposite sex restrooms. I’m trying to make a stand to pee device or STP. I have tried before and I still can’t make one that works. I finally remembered though it helps to lift the seat. I’m trying to make a swimming shirt. Ii is a muscle shirt that should be able to bind. I’m working on it but it’s a bitch. The pain however does not exceed the gain. I am still trying to work on that STP. I tried a funnel but I couldn’t console it now I’m trying a gel bottle. . I will just keep trying but I can’t really work on it often because I have to be alone and I have to have supplies. I need to be alone because I don’t want to answer any questions. I hate sitting down to urinate. I feel degraded like a dog that is forced to squat or something equally pathetic. Ii am trying to keep writing this book till I’m done with my sex reassignment surgery or SRS. If I could chose I would have my SRS as soon as possible. The boys and girl club experiment is going well there are no people contradicting my sex or gender. I feel a sense of rapture when I go just because I’m just another guy not IT or He/She. A few things such as being bothered never changed. There will always be something for people to tease you about. The guys are cool but I can’t say I like the girls they are very cruel if you ask me. They ask about my devil lock a lot. A Devil lock is my hairdo to me it represent individuality because it is one lock of hair being noticeably long with the rest of the hair very short. You’ll see it in my pictures. It never fails they ask me if it’s a queer hairdo or say it probably is why I fall all the time. I don’t really care but I want to make sure I write everything down so you get a clear picture of walking around like me. Today I spoke about discrimination, tolerance and acceptance to some of the kids at the club. I think I gave a few of them something to chew on because they were asking questions but some were cracking jokes. I’m not sure what to think of to prevent that from happening it was after all a serious subject. Its hard to make out what most of them thought about it. I was deeply disappointed however later. I once read violence tends to be a circle. How true that rings. I am discouraged at times because the children taunt merciless. Teenagers are killing each other these days and we ask how we stop it. What if here in the younger years if the hecklings were stopped maybe it wouldn’t go on then maybe the kid wouldn’t break apart then again maybe nothing would change. It’s a lot to chew on for me. I don’t like just standing and watching someone get taunted but what do I do it’s really none of my concern. I intervened once only to be told angrily to “shut up” by the one who was being taunted. I just sat in stupor fumbling to grasp what occurred. I don’t really understand humanity but I have decided I will not hate it maybe dislike its ways and beliefs but never hate it after all there are times like when a kid was getting angry and he was saying things like I’m going go punch that dude and I asked “What will that accomplish”. Then he pondered that question and suddenly his anger was defused. I wonder if I’m part of the circle of violence and don’t realize it after all the others don’t seem to realize it. I live life as a transsexual and it affects me sometimes very violently. I almost want to give up everyday but I don’t instead I march on. I cant help but wish I had corresponding mind and body. I know it’s ludicrous but still it surfaces whenever things are bleak. Like today I once again attempted to create a STP. This time however I asked if Cherry had any ideas seeing I was all out. She tried to help but she was busy and I was really too uncomfortable to push the subject. I tried another one and it bombed like the others it as if its impossible. I was using a bottle and was ready to cut it when I realized I needed to empty it first. I mean I’m that clueless when it comes to building a STP there are no instructions either. Even when I built one it takes a while before I try it out. I know that if I make a mess I will have to answer what I was doing not an appealing thought. I wait till I’m alone in the house but that can take weeks sometime then I just fail its tiring. I decide I am going to shave. I do realize it is totally pointless as my face has no hair but I want to and it could be good practice. I asked my mom for the stuff she didn’t ask any questions but I sense she was a bit shaken. I continue to loathe my chest. I think I will first have chest reconstruction surgery .I know a lot of people say its not what’s on the inside its what’s on the outside that counts. I think however the outside is killing what’s on the inside in my case. people often ask me “why do I want to be a guy”. I cant really answer that in a way to satisfy them. I tell them I am a guy not some girl trying to be one. I just want what’s inside my mind to fit my body but they ca not understand that .its just a feeling of confusion to live like this. It as if no understands that your not you you’re someone else yet you have to pretend all the time you’re their version of you . It feels completely wrong and no one can tell or help. It is not a want but really a need to be able to be yourself. Its like being in a weird nightmare only it seems ill never be able to wake up. Is that a way anyone can live peacefully. Humans can undertake enormous amount of pressure and blend in for a long time but something has to break. I can’t escape because I’m still too young. Don’t get me wrong I totally understand why they don’t allow minors to have irreversible steps into transitioning. I know most people my age are incapable of making up their mind . I know many people have had regrets and right now scientifically I am still incapable of making responsible decisions due to my frontal lobe not developed but I still don’t like it. I unlike many people have made up my mind. My mind was made up before I knew the surgeries existed as a child I had dreamed of creating such a surgery since I thought none of the sort existed. Of course I dint have it all worked out but the need for body modification was there. I know I am going to have SRS. I cant even imagine not having it because of the way my life would have to be . I have thought about very thoroughly. I am well aware it may not work out and I may be left with serious complications but these are all risks im willing to take even death. I know I can have serious complications but at least I would have tried. to live life as a girl is not an option for me it never was and never will. I cant even twist my mind to imagine myself with a man or having birth. I would maybe like kids but there is no way I would have them I mean there is always adoption or artificial insemination if my wife wishes that but never shall I be pregnant. Ii don’t need a kid having my genes anyway half my family has a medical disorder and almost three fourths have a metal disorder I would be giving a kid a guaranteed curse.
I spent today at the Club. I left my binging in a class room so I went to get it. When I came back to the gym everyone was lining up boys in one line girls in the other. I quickly lined up in the boys line but to my horror we were lined up to go to wash out hands for lunch . I would have to walk up then the teacher would tell me when to go inside when my turn came. Nothing weird except I knew she would make me go to the girls line in front of everyone. I was a wreck because I didn’t want to be discovered. When I stood up at the front as my turn came she said clearly “ Go to the back of the line Davy”. I knew she meant the girls line but I could not blow my cover so I just stood around in the back of the room not in either of the lines. I figure I would wait till there were no kids in the gym to wash my hands. Still I was a mess thinking “ what if the kids ask questions?” “what will be my excuse?” all these thought making my stomach churn. finally the gym was empty. I slowly went to the teacher and explained how I didn’t want to be known as a girl. She seemed to understand and I washed my hands wondering what I would face at lunch. In the lunch room some kids asked why she kept me after everyone was gone . I said it was nothing just that she needed to ask me some questions concerning my record. I have told them of my past problems so they figured it was the truth and left me alone.
Introduction
This is not my current state of mind. I was in a state of despair. I can swear to you on my honor this is completely true. Life isn’t easy for a transsexual like me because of the lack of education. People hate and fear what they don’t understand. I have placed my hope and time to educated people. This book is not censored or edited in any way most of this was written at that time not after so things may sound morbid but I assure you I am against suicide. I will however pretend it doesn’t happen or try and tell you not to ever do drugs because you have control of your life. I went through a lot but no one can be compared to another person. Everyone goes through periods of hardship but that is what life is about. Without bad there would not be good. I know I am not alone and I want everyone to know they are not alone. Most things are in chronological order but it still might be confusing and I apologize. I began writing this book around the time I was thirteen. I got the idea from a man who was color blind. Through his life he was asked questions like “what is it like?’’ how do you see?’ and ‘why can’t you see color?’ Though many adults and children asked it seemed they always were repeating question and when one finally understood sort of another would appear. It was the same thing I live with and I could relate to him. He told me if I wanted to tell lots of people I should write a book then lots of transsexuals would be spared the interrogations. From that day on I wrote hoping he was right. So thanks Paul. It was mostly written at times I was angry or frantic. It also reads odd because I am just fifteen years old and still confused about a lot but I think it makes me real not fake. I just am trying to let you see what its like to walk around in my skin. my entry’s in the journals or even my suicide note may not make sense seeing that they have no dates unfortunately I was barely able to write much less remember and place the date but everything in this book is in chronological order as far as I can tell. Thank you for at least looking and reading this far.
My story
I was born on October 8 1990. I was declared female. My mother never knowing what I was to be like when I grew up named me Julie Marie Garcia. My relatives were all there because I was the first granddaughter. My father was an illegal immigrate when my mom got pregnant with me. He left after she told him. She decided then she wasn’t going to let him ever see me plus she didn’t even really like him to begin with. Right now I have never met him and he is married living someplace like Nebraska. He tried to meet me
When I five and my mother refused since then he has not tried to contact us. I was sexually molested by my mother’s next significant other. I however am not writing about that but instead other important events. My mother separated from him then month I turned ten because they were fighting a lot. I waited till I was thirteen to tell my mother I was sexually molested and that I was gay. (I assumed I was gay). I probably would have not told my mother had she not been homosexual herself. She is with a nice lady named Bonnie. She is really wonderful and has been a great friend to me in fact I told her about everything before I told my mom. Then I started having problems. I got in police and school trouble. I was then taken to a residential treatment center. I was in and out of them because I am intelligent and knew how to manipulate them into releasing me. I did not like the RTC it was strict. When I was omitted I was stripped search and my clothing I brought was inspected thoroughly. I was given my clothes back but my shoelaces were removed my belt and my shorts with a string in them. I was then given a bucket labeled with my name the bucket contained a toothbrush, comb, deodorant, conditioner, toothpaste. The bucket was locked in a room that also contained towels shampoo. We were allowed our hygiene bucket at 6:00 pm. this was designated shower time. Our daily schedule was 8::00 we were awaken and given breakfast. Our meals were eaten in an area know as the den. The layout of the building was simple it had six rooms and a large area in which a TV and three tables and several benches that were weighed so no normal child could even slid them. The large room we ate and spent the majority of time in. we had group therapy 4 times a day for an hour. These were spent talking with a therapist. No one stayed to long it was after all temporary care unit so someone could be here to day and gone tomorrow or even in the middle of the night. Vitals were taken often and we had talks with a physiologist briefly. This is not the ideal place I did not desire help at this time. I was known as a drug user (not heavy though), a self mutilator and a suicidal person. I was put on more medicines then I could count and for many reasons. I had finally revealed my sexual abuse from my father when all that happened. I got out of there after three months and was sent to similar place except it was better. I had a lot more freedom then after nine more months I was took to a foster home to see if I could function in the outside world. I have many demons to deal with and then I knew not how to deal with them. I am not saying I am cured now but have improved and my coping skills are better. . I have many demons to deal with and then I knew not how to deal with them. I am not saying I am cured now but have improved and my coping skills are better. Now I am at home adjusting and things aren’t too rocky. I didn’t yet know I was transsexual. Well I knew but I didn’t know there was an official term. I just thought I was a wrong person. When I was very young I beloved completely I was male. It wasn’t till I was at the age of eight that I knew I was called female. When you become eight in school they begin to separate boys and girls in two lines. I would sand in the boys line but was told to move. This confused me. I knew I was just like a boy and I felt like one but everyone said different. I didn’t know really know why till I was aware of anatomy and my lacking in male genital s was somehow where they got the idea I was a girl. Then I was at a school where there was separate bathrooms based on gender. It was hell for me I knew I did not belong. I was torn I felt like I was invading forbidden territory in the girls but I was thrown out of the guys. I finally was done with the embarrassment a frustration decide I would use neither. I would hold my need to urinate until the end of school and if I didn’t make it I went home soiled. I hide my backside during school and at home I hand washed my clothes so my mom wouldn’t see then when they dried I put them in the hamper. I would not tell my mom any of my feeling and especially not my “dad” because in my family it was wrong to express yourself. I always was buddies with guys because girls were so weird and icky then. I was told I was a tomboy. I figures that was what I was and they said I would grow out of it eventually. I had one main guy I would hang with named James Brown. We were both outcasts so we stuck around each other. We often wrestled and fought. I didn’t really like him much but he was a human who would talk to me so I accepted him. I really remember we hated school because we were different and all so we dreamed. We would say we were from another planet. We had both been placed incorrectly in wrong bodies by accident when sent to scout out earth by our home planet the moon. I was in a girl’s body and he was stuck in a body way too young. I guess we need a way to explain why we didn’t fit in. Everyday we had to scout out a certain teacher or find out something or another. It passed the time and our imagination was never ending. I think when we were our characters we were what and who we wanted to be it was an easy escape. I just floated everywhere else never really feeling anything except when I read. One day though I began to lose my way of dealing. I began to see my surroundings for once. I saw a lot but mainly what was on my mind was the girls weren’t so icky anymore in fact they were interesting. I remember one girl really well because she named in a way. I liked her and James said if I liked her I should ask her out. I had no idea what the hell that meant but I wanted to prove I wasn’t scared. I got in a big fight with James though because he tried to ask her out. I guess it was machismo or something because I had to hit him even though she wasn’t mine. Fist flew for awhile then I ran up to her and asked her out but she said she was going out with some guy already. She was never mine but I was influenced by her. All I know is I have always been real territorial and I always got to act tough and people say that’s because I’m macho. I don’t know really if that’s true but I guess that’s how I’m wired I’m way too masculine and I think that’s what they mean. Anyway this is how she named me. Once day I walked up to her and a friend of hers and asked her would she go out with me she said she wouldn’t because I was a girl. I was horrified. I said I was not a girl!! Her friend said yes you are because your name is girly. I didn’t want to admit I had no idea why because then I would look weak. There was no way I was going to let a girl make me look stupid and weak that was unacceptable. So I said I was changing it. Then I ran over to James and asked for suggestions. He came up with stupid names so I ran back to her and asked what I should make my name. Her friend suggested Tom because of tomboy. I said some kid was named that already. She said how about David wasn’t taken and was pretty cool. I hung on her every word so I agreed besides it stuck well. From then one I told everyone my name was David who asked. Well I didn’t tell teachers or parents but at that age they aren’t anybody anyway. Most of the rest of my childhood is foggy till I turned ten. All I really remember is always being alone and never talking and spending most of my time with books. One book that really gave me hopes it was called “The Gentleman and me Ali. It is a book about a girl who lives with a mean aunt and uncle till her father comes to pick her up. Her mother died when her father went west to find work. Her father wrote and sent money to her aunt and uncle but they treated her like a maid. She gets tired of heir treatment and runs away to find her father. She soon finds out life on the run as a girl is harder than it is for a boy. She cuts her hair and steals some guy clothing plus she is young enough to not worry about her blossoming (I had no idea what that meant then).Disguised as a guy life is still tough but she befriends a man who calls himself the gentleman outlaw because despite being a con man he refuses to be rude and sticks to his morals. She sticks with him all across the west and he never knows she is a girl. She meets her dad and has to go back to a girl. When I read this my mind formed plan. I would wait till I was old enough to get work then run off to somewhere where they don’t know me and be a guy. I would not tell anyone and I would get a wife and life would be perfect. I held on so dearly to this dream. I use it to survive for so long. In my room I would think of being able to have a goatee and be real strong or have a son who I’d take fishing or be a famous soccer player. Then I was ten. My “dad” left and moved to apartments across town. I was glad because I didn’t like him but I didn’t let that show. I didn’t know till then that he wasn’t really my father before I had always thought he was my dad. I remember it was a few weeks later that my mom was told my “dad” had been married to Kelly. I already knew Kelly because she was my aunt’s girlfriend. Oh I forgot to mention that one of my aunts is gay. But I met Kelly even before that because she had four girls with this guy she was married to for fourteen years before she divorced him. They both owned the local arcade and my family frequently visited there. Then Kelly and my aunt got together. After my dad moved out actually they moved into our home. So we were really shocked that she had just gotten married to my “dad”. I was the only one of my four siblings that knew that my aunts friend was a really her lover. Not because I had been told but I just am more observant that my brother and two sisters are. My siblings are Rueben, Stephanie and Rebecca born in that order I am the eldest. All this was a lot to chew and seemed like a soap opera. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about my dad but this was fucking weird. I mean there are what fifty billion other girls he could have but he picks her??!? I mean why does he wan to fuck his ex girlfriend’s sister?!? (My mom and dad never got married so technically they were just dating for ten years)My mom was allowed me and Rebecca and my dad got Rueben and Stephanie. I don’t remember a lot after that except we moved to Blanco where my mo could have better jobs. Rebecca was so small she was watched by my aunts or something for the night. My mom worked really late at night till early in the morning at a nursing home. I stayed in the car with her or at her job on the couches. My mom also worked at a bowling alley as a cook. . Her friend Sue worked there too. I didn’t know sue but my mom and her where roommates when me and Sue’s kid Jeremy was born and they’d didn’t stop being roommates till their house burned down and they went separate ways. Sue brought Jeremy to work just like my mom brought me. He is three months older than me so we hung out. He and I were complete opposites. He was loud, funny, outgoing, talkative and sociable. He was everything I wasn’t so he fascinated me. He taught me how to be truly free. With his help I learned to listen to my opinions and to make decisions. He made it so I learned how to make friends. He is one of my best friends and at that times my only friend. I went to his house one day though it’s not a mansion or even special it was my heaven then. We were so happy and free. We were fearless and invincible together. I remember fondly climbing roofs loving the thought of danger and soaking up the views. We would roam the woods around his house. They seemed endless and we never seemed to lose our way .We created countless experiments when it rained with everything in his kitchen, bathroom and living room. He should me a world beyond books. A way of life I thought was impossible. I realized all I had missed in my younger years. I recognize I had the ability to think for myself to find friends and decide things. One of the happiest days of my life was when after we begged my mom she let me live with Sue. I recall that summer as the one that seemed to last forever yet was too short. Those were the most carefree days of my life and I am certain I shall never feel like that ever again. I am always reminded that great things come to an end. School started a few months later and I was in a different grade than Jeremy. Though Jeremy was a great person but he didn’t know he was my crutch and without him I would fall horribly. School was eight hours of shame once again. Only this time it was worse because I knew what I was missing and it hurt more than when I didn’t know what it was like have friends. I was an outcast despite the fact I was friends with the very well known popular Jeremy. I was just too weird for everyone plus I was not white which wasn’t taken lightly in Jeremy’s town. Boys sneered at me because I was a girl who acted like a guy and the girls said I was a fagot freak. Eight hours of pure bigotry and taunts is enough to break anyone’s spirit. On the bus ride home with Jeremy I felt fearless again. I cussed like a sailor and had so many scuffles I could hold my head high. Even though I now dislike senseless fighting I can’t help but feel proud of my fights. I was respected through fear and I was accepted in Jeremy’s neighborhood. My mom finally found a home and wanted me back and I kind of missed her so I went back with her. I thought that I could do okay now armed with Rock n roll and confidence. Jeremy showed me real music and I don’t know how I functioned without it. I think it was fate that decided I wasn’t going to be someone who flew but only under someone’s wing. I think it was destiny for me to evolve as I have through hardship. I said that I was happier than ever when I was around Jeremy but I had just busted the tip of the iceberg I was going to find. I was to find. I didn’t know I could be more than a shadow I could lead not follow. I was taught sublimely to ignore all feelings because you look weak and weakness was intolerable. Every instinct and feeling was to be bottled and stored in that closet of you mind. Memories could only bring horror and hate so why bother? I was to learn that they don’t disappear but instead wait to explode and drain out of you all energy. I was doing well then but shortly my door would open and everything I didn’t want to remember would come flowing back overfilling like a broken fire hydrant. There I was scraping by when the bomb labeled puberty hits me. It was when I noticed my chest err... changing when I started paying attention to sex education and what I discovered shattered my precious dreams like china in a shooting gallery. Now I knew what the fuck blossoming meant and hell I was furious. My Grandma as clueless as everyone bought me a damn bra. I buried that loathed object in a drawer reserved for dresses, earrings and other detested gifts. I was going to wear those when Lucifer hands out snow cones in Hades. At an early age my mom figured out I was not feminine. I always felt so sick perverted and dirty when I wore those objects meant for females. Later someone told me I was a sick, gross thing for wearing guys’ clothes. I felt even more alienated. Sex education was given in school as well as the puberty talk. Now equipped with knowledge I was indeed a girl and was going to not be able to able to pretend I wasn’t when I was older. This was when I took my first step into a spiral of despair. My mom finally forced me to wear a bra. I think I would have felt the same if she told me to go to school in the nude because I was just as mortified. I
Was being pushed to dust off my tomboy ways and become a woman (yuck) in an obscured way. I was once or twice to quote “don’t knock it till you try it” meaning I should at least try to be a girly person. They didn’t know they were stabbing me because I really didn’t want to be a girl. If they had known I think things would have been different so I wish I would have expressed myself instead of just nodding my head. I finally tried being a girl I felt like a grotesque unnatural but what could I do I wanted to make everyone happy. I put on dresses I copied all the girls I put make up on felt like an actor just trying to say my lines right. After feeling immoral, coarse and nasty for long enough I said screw it. I told myself I am not meant to ever do anything right why I should even try. I started doing drugs mostly because I knew it would slowly kill me and that I would feel some relief. I hung with a fellow named Josef but went by Jade. By then I had shorted my name to Davy because I liked it more. We jammed out and slowly decided life was too bleak. We probably would have committed suicide had it not been for each other and a band named AFI. We both knew we self mutilated one ourselves but instead of hating our scars we wore them with pride. The reason I was proud was because I always harmed myself not only because of my loathing of myself but because it was the only pain I could control and I needed to feel like I had control over something. He knew I was a homosexual and he was cool with it ( later he” discovered” he was bisexual). I figured gay was what I was so I decided to tell the school. I really didn’t care what they thought but most of them thought that gay people were all freaky and I wanted them to know that it’s not like gay people are that different or even rare like they though. I knew several gay people that were in the closet and I wanted to help them too. I got asked a lot of question that assured me people are very naïve on this subject. I also however got a lot of taunting and beatings. I knew however that this was not what I really was I did like girls but since I felt like I was I guy I was truly heterosexual but I didn’t think there was a category for that so I felt like it was close enough. I started being confident and went to football games. I had a crush on this on girl in band. I knew a lot of the people in the band were curious, gay or bisexual. I was happy for awhile and my mom noticed. She asked why I liked going to the games so much and why I was suddenly so happy. I told I meet someone not wanting to tell her I was gay. Even though I knew Bonnie was my mom’s lover I didn’t want to tell her or my mom that I was gay because I felt like it would affect her additive toward me. I came home one day however buzzed and giddy from finally kissing the girl I liked. Bonnie and mom looked at me and asked how the game was? I said I think we won and I had a great time because she and I were talking most the time. I barely registered that I had said “her” when they both turned and looked at me and said they thought I would have been hanging with my boyfriend. I laughed and shouted boy?! Hell I wouldn’t trade her for any damn jock! Then it dawned on me I just told her I was with a girl. They just laughed and said” so joined the dark side huh? I replied with something to the affected of well there goes your grandkids from me. My mom said well there is still your brother. I knew then it was okay with them that I liked girls. I kind of felt bad though because that wasn’t the whole truth but I didn’t want to ruin anything by making it more complicated when I didn’t even know what the hell was up with me. I told Jade what happened the next day and he said that was pretty awesome because most people would flip and disown their kid. Then I told I felt guilty though. He said why. So I told him how I really felt like a male and wanted more than anything to be a guy who likes girls. he said he knew that he just didn’t know there was anybody like that so I was probably going to just going to say gay. A few weeks however was shuffling through a bunch of old newspapers in English class seeking comics I found and article saying “Girl trapped in boy’s body as a head line. I was instantly intrigued and grabbed the paper. I read the article realize though are wishes were in nature different he and I were very alike. I then realize I was not alone they mentioned he was ridiculed and beat for his clothing use of make up and actions. He committed suicide by hanging himself because his spirit could take no more. I kept the article because it reassured me I was not the only person with gender confusion. Still lacking an official term and the balls to explain to my mom I accidentally left the article on the kitchen table when she saw it she asked who it belonged to. I told I had found it and was interested in it. She said nothing but I was relived she didn’t freak or start saying how she disapproved. A few weeks later however she told me that she had worked with a guy who ahs moved away to California to have surgery to be a girl. She just kid of said it without any feeling it her words but the fact that she mentioned it made me feel a little better. I still wasn’t ready to tell her I was riding the same boat as him. Her saying he was getting surgery also make me wonder what she meant. All she had said was he/she had needed a lot of money for it. It was then I figured maybe I had after all. I then started research but in clandestine because I was very scared someone other than Jade would find out. I couldn’t ask even how to look for information I was blind and trying to my find my way.
Entries in journals
I’m haunted a mere ghost. The true fear can never be shaken. I feel murdered every night by my fucking heart. It is bitter and filled with pus that reeks of malice. This is my punishment for following my road. Why must thought of a girl defy every thing I have been taught. How can I throw my guardians morals as though they were mere filth. I think of all we could be inside my fantasy. Why do I believe she is angelic how can she be if she does desire me she would be as damned as I for our sin. If I could only touch her skin feel her against me as we become one. I want the girl in my dreams. I reveal my scars and she sheds tears as she kisses the pain away. She understands my mutilation and never questions my soul’s destiny. I jump with rapture and shake with rapture unknown these feelings must be to mere mortals. I am worse than dead I’m numb with the exception of despair or fury. I might as well surrender all my desire for companionship knowing that pain and hate will only follow. Why are unbearable burdens thrown onto my weak shoulders? I know there’s something inside that says I’m not really gay I’m just the wrong sex but who can I tell. The moon shines a so beautifully I fall into ecstasy as the blood turns to midnight black in the moons radiance. I know I’m an inhuman monster but doesn’t very show need one? I feel as though life is a fucking play that we all act in as Shakespeare says. He was so true. I choose now not to be the victim or out cast or any other role I choose to be the villain. May I be the evil villain? I cannot bare another day as myself. No rather I do wish I could be myself instead the girl everyone wishes me to be. I put on my mask and wear it so they all leave me is but why do I allow myself to be a puppet for them. W hen I am perfectly capable of choosing my way. I guess I can only be the hated villain. I’m stuck in a pathetic world left to fester with my venomous thoughts and fears. Oh I have been told of a merciful god. So in blind faith I pray unto this god to end my dark life. Spare me the truth and hell of adulthood and kill me now. Why leave here I am in purgatory only I see those who laugh and live so I beg you to allow me to die and end this all. I need pain imp addicted into it bonnie doesn’t want me to but I have to even when I don’t need to I have to imp kind of scared I can’t stop. I m no owing to kill myself unless o have too I go through every motion my I still lack emotions. I can’t take this pain though I can cause myself pain but the sorrow is much worse. Despair fear is constantly haunting me. They consume me slowly. I just want some kind of end to this. if It doesn’t end by itself I have to end t in the only way I know I have a new bald carry it with me all the time I will use it if I have to I know just where to cut . I’m not going to leave a note they will probably see this and hate me. No one will ever understand and people hate and gear what they don’t understand. Help is unknown I ant sleep I can’t drink I can’t eat until I force myself but I don’t know why do I bother. I’m so scared, so scared my life is withering and I need help what do I do I’m so lost I can’t see a future and my I refuse to remember the past so do I even exist. I don’t want to end my life I just want to end this pain. I want to start new but I’m stuck in a never ending gale in a sinking ship I can’t take this pain but when write it helps. I hold myself in the lowest standard because I’m scared my eyes stay down cast I am nothing but and outcast who am I a mere broken shell in which painful memories can stain. Alas feared jesters I will avenge my pain but not without a broken spirit and a determined face. The more I think the less I feel the more I know the less I understand I cat stop these daggers from killing me if I could only stop the bloody scars from showing but they are mere symbols of my spirits state. Gone astray in dreams of death I feel revived. Who am I to keep smiles from innocent faces? I see the way the parent, the teacher, and everyone glares. I know to stay my distance but still I am beaten. Why must I be contrary? Lost in a wave of unaltered pain I saw a reflection of my self and broke the mirror because of the pure hatred I felt at seeing the hideous creature I am. I m burdened with the thought of fight for a lost cause. What is it I’m fighting for? Musty is the smell of rancid turmoil. Havoc has hit my mind. What message of despair will be delivered next what am I to do I try to sit and hold back tears when I hear the young and innocent surround me. I’m stuck in abyss of despair black are the curtains covering my bloodshot eyes. My shore is gone now one day before I tell all of my “fathers” actions. One day till the secrets die and become known. I have an even harder time telling then because of me seen his fucking smiling face. May he return to the depth of Hades and rejoin Lucifer I’m scared what if I err what if I pause or mix things up will they doubt me? I don’t want to have to be brave but no one else will. I can’t let him get away with it because I have suffered in ways I hope no one shall ever have to. If I could change those years I would be a different person. I can’t take this pain but I still have strength because I must go on for my family. Tomorrow I leave the wretched place. I have been here for five days I got to kiss some girl. I asked her to teach me how to french kiss and right way and she did. We had to sneak in the bathroom. At this moment I have found a purpose I will raise hell. That’s my reason to live I going to hell anyway so I might as will fuck up the people who have hurt me and might hurt me. I must be crazy tonight I’m thirsting for blood I want to hurt something I found a cat today I have it roped to a tree I am still deciding to murder or not to murder it. If bonnie doesn’t come and my mom sleeps as usual that cats life will be over. I don’t hate the cat I just want to hurt something. I can’t resist this urge. I’m sitting here watching my family get ready to depart to some town I hate this house I wish I had the balls to burn the fucker down to the ground. Sometimes I sleep in the car because I hate sleeping in the house. I am forced to stay here till my mom comes back from some dance. I cant go because I am frustrated and scared my mom doesn’t know this so of course she is pissed at me I wish I cold live in a house were no one messed with e or even knew I lived there I’m scared and my mom thinks I’m just pissed for no reason so my mom see rage. Already imp cutting and I truly wish I could go and get wasted or stoned. I hate everything and everyone right now. I wish I could hang out with anybody just to talk. I’m so mad and my mom expects me to stop cussing. I guess I should and start respecting her because she fucked some guy and had me. Hell I aunt going to love her for making me. She must hate me I know it. How else can I explain her looking at me like I’m a devil? She blames me for shit I didn’t do and acts like fuck up everything. Yeah but she feeds, gives me clothes and makes me feel like shit. Sometimes I don’t hate her but mostly I do. I’m amazed my mind still brings me so much pain. I am against myself. I chose girls who don’t need a second glance to see i'm a loser why can’t I find someone could possibly care for me. I’m probably not even human. loneliness is ingrained in every bone in my miserable frame I awake in despair and lay back in my coffin of hate to awake again the thought of living like this threatens my sanity where does my alcove of tranquility lie all I’m seeing is shore of more anger and pile of disgust. I know shame shines in me. I write this few days before I’m released from Cedar Crest After being there from September 2004 to May 2005. I haven’t written anything while I was here so this is some required journal assignments from computer class .Hopefully it will shed some light on how my stay was. The underline part was written on the board then we were to elaborate so anything not underlined is from my head and just what was on my mind then.I didn’t cry while saying bye to my friends . My friends were mainly the staff and a girl named Cherry. Cherry is like an older sister something I never had before. I’m in love with a girl named Siobhan but only time will say how long that will last. I say this simply because from experience no girl would sick around with me especially when we will now be in different towns. She already left here but we are in contact. I have a drawing she drew me its very talented work. She is an artist and plans to be a professional tattoo artist. I adore the drawing. I cried so much after I left during the car ride. This is important to mention because I have great difficulty crying. I think my tears were of uncertainty fear, loneliness, and of cores the tears I have held back. I wonder imp going next. I’m staying at my mom’s house for two weeks. Then I will probably go to a therapeutic foster home. I m home but there not much to occupy me. I find myself being irritable and easily frustrated. I’m questioning if going home forever is going to ever be an option. As I’m weighing the pros and cons I find the scale to be unbalanced. I do not think my return home is a healthy positive choice. In fact I’m afraid that it may cause me to descend the downward spiral. I worry that I shall turn once again to my old habits, the same habits that can and will destroy any man. It is Funny how I refer and see myself as a man. I have explained to my siblings that I will soon be their brother and my name is going to be Davy so they should call me that. They didn’t ask any questions like why and they could have ignored me I suppose. I continue to loathe my body I don’t think that will change without sex reassignment surgery. I am a guy and feel like one. I have the whole tough, macho attitude and even though I realize it I can’t stop doing it. It is like trying to hold my breath. I’m only explaining this because even if a guy is a virgin or has had sex a few times he has to lie and say he has screwed fifty girls. I mean it’s like an unsaid rule Or maybe I’m alone on the feeling that as soon as we started noticing girls in a good way we said all sorts of bullshit. I mean I hope me and Jade weren’t the only ones lying I mean you never really know who’s telling the truth and who is lying their teeth off. . I know I said I was all over the baseball field and saying I had done this and that when truth was I hadn’t even held anyone’s hand much less done anything else. Of course this was all after I had come out before that I was just trying to listen to what I was missing though every now and then I would slip up and say something like” yeah chicks hot “and then some guys would look at me funny. I’d half shout” I mean my friend said that so I assumed he was right. I wouldn’t know I’m not like that!! “. I have never done anything pass like kissing and maybe fumbling a grab or something. I mean it not that I don’t want hell I really want to but I feel like I can’t. I think it’s because I feel inadequate and unequipped and with that added on to everything else there is no way I could even try. I guess I feel like I wouldn’t be able to do what I wanted or give them anything they wanted because I don’t want to be touched on my chest or my groin so what’s the point. Also who the hell would I be able to explain all that to because of distrust and embarrassment? I know you can’t tell but I’m having a hard time letting this all out I mean this is really personal and really humiliating but I think it shows more of me. As I write I think also how little people realize that many of the things they never even notice I have to worry about. I guess that’s one of the reasons for writing this to expose myself so maybe a large amount of people will see life as a young female to male transsexual. No one really knows what its like to be me I mean sure there are for FTMs but none exactly like me. I awoke this morning alone. My siblings are attending school my mothers at work. I was prepared to take a shower when I stopped to write this because I felt as though I needed to document how as I undressed to step into the shower I glimpsed at the mirror on accident I was filled with total disgust and hatred. It was as if a wave of scorn slapped me at the reflection. I held back the urge to claw at myself and bled knowing at least my bloods the same. I wish I could explain that feeling and the one that follows it the feeling of helpless against nature. It’s maddening to know i’m all misses matched and I can’t do anything till i’m old enough and have enough money. I could feel my chest and was ashamed of it I began to scratch them as though it would make them go away of lessen. I think that’s why I started cutting myself. The sense of needing to change my body somehow the need of control of how some of my body looked to feel the only pain I could control. I nearly grabbed at a nearby razor but didn’t I refuse to cut. Even as I was showering I kept feeling the hate then arguing about cutting because I knew if I cut I could make the pain disappear even if it was for a little while. I can’t stop the feeling of hate it’s always there only sometimes its dormant but other times it dominates my thoughts to the point of insanity. I feel helpless over everything except the pay n I cause myself. I can’t control people I can’t control my life I can’t control my sex. Damn I can’t even control where I live. Fuck I’m waiting! I’m always just fucking waiting!! I am at the temporary foster home. The family put me in a program called the boys and girls club. I told this kid at first I was a girl when asked but it was too confusing for a kid her age so I decided I can be a boy here. I told the family they didn’t really care about that sort of thing and they call me Davy. Everyone here knows me as a 14 year old male named Davy except the head boss who isn’t saying anything because it’s fine with her. I met this kid we sometimes hang out so I guess he is my friend. I feel a big difference in the amount of tension and attention people pay to me now that they think I’m a biological male. Funny I feel like my friend and other males speak different to me. It as if they can confide in me and it is much less awkward. The club went swimming Friday it was a fun experience. I had a blast the only problem was that when my friend asked me why I left my shirt on. I told him that I was scared and embarrassed about some scars and some small breasts. Said they came from some weird gene and medicine my mom was on when I was young. I told him not to tell anyone this secret. This secret of course is a lie but I feel like this is an experiment to see if I can pass and if people are different to girls than they are to guys and I don’t want to ruin it. I only have a few problems at the club. One is urinating. It is obvious I can not be seen using the girls but I can’t go in the guys because I think they will notice also I think there is some law about using opposite sex restrooms. I’m trying to make a stand to pee device or STP. I have tried before and I still can’t make one that works. I finally remembered though it helps to lift the seat. I’m trying to make a swimming shirt. Ii is a muscle shirt that should be able to bind. I’m working on it but it’s a bitch. The pain however does not exceed the gain. I am still trying to work on that STP. I tried a funnel but I couldn’t console it now I’m trying a gel bottle. . I will just keep trying but I can’t really work on it often because I have to be alone and I have to have supplies. I need to be alone because I don’t want to answer any questions. I hate sitting down to urinate. I feel degraded like a dog that is forced to squat or something equally pathetic. Ii am trying to keep writing this book till I’m done with my sex reassignment surgery or SRS. If I could chose I would have my SRS as soon as possible. The boys and girl club experiment is going well there are no people contradicting my sex or gender. I feel a sense of rapture when I go just because I’m just another guy not IT or He/She. A few things such as being bothered never changed. There will always be something for people to tease you about. The guys are cool but I can’t say I like the girls they are very cruel if you ask me. They ask about my devil lock a lot. A Devil lock is my hairdo to me it represent individuality because it is one lock of hair being noticeably long with the rest of the hair very short. You’ll see it in my pictures. It never fails they ask me if it’s a queer hairdo or say it probably is why I fall all the time. I don’t really care but I want to make sure I write everything down so you get a clear picture of walking around like me. Today I spoke about discrimination, tolerance and acceptance to some of the kids at the club. I think I gave a few of them something to chew on because they were asking questions but some were cracking jokes. I’m not sure what to think of to prevent that from happening it was after all a serious subject. Its hard to make out what most of them thought about it. I was deeply disappointed however later. I once read violence tends to be a circle. How true that rings. I am discouraged at times because the children taunt merciless. Teenagers are killing each other these days and we ask how we stop it. What if here in the younger years if the hecklings were stopped maybe it wouldn’t go on then maybe the kid wouldn’t break apart then again maybe nothing would change. It’s a lot to chew on for me. I don’t like just standing and watching someone get taunted but what do I do it’s really none of my concern. I intervened once only to be told angrily to “shut up” by the one who was being taunted. I just sat in stupor fumbling to grasp what occurred. I don’t really understand humanity but I have decided I will not hate it maybe dislike its ways and beliefs but never hate it after all there are times like when a kid was getting angry and he was saying things like I’m going go punch that dude and I asked “What will that accomplish”. Then he pondered that question and suddenly his anger was defused. I wonder if I’m part of the circle of violence and don’t realize it after all the others don’t seem to realize it. I live life as a transsexual and it affects me sometimes very violently. I almost want to give up everyday but I don’t instead I march on. I cant help but wish I had corresponding mind and body. I know it’s ludicrous but still it surfaces whenever things are bleak. Like today I once again attempted to create a STP. This time however I asked if Cherry had any ideas seeing I was all out. She tried to help but she was busy and I was really too uncomfortable to push the subject. I tried another one and it bombed like the others it as if its impossible. I was using a bottle and was ready to cut it when I realized I needed to empty it first. I mean I’m that clueless when it comes to building a STP there are no instructions either. Even when I built one it takes a while before I try it out. I know that if I make a mess I will have to answer what I was doing not an appealing thought. I wait till I’m alone in the house but that can take weeks sometime then I just fail its tiring. I decide I am going to shave. I do realize it is totally pointless as my face has no hair but I want to and it could be good practice. I asked my mom for the stuff she didn’t ask any questions but I sense she was a bit shaken. I continue to loathe my chest. I think I will first have chest reconstruction surgery .I know a lot of people say its not what’s on the inside its what’s on the outside that counts. I think however the outside is killing what’s on the inside in my case. people often ask me “why do I want to be a guy”. I cant really answer that in a way to satisfy them. I tell them I am a guy not some girl trying to be one. I just want what’s inside my mind to fit my body but they ca not understand that .its just a feeling of confusion to live like this. It as if no understands that your not you you’re someone else yet you have to pretend all the time you’re their version of you . It feels completely wrong and no one can tell or help. It is not a want but really a need to be able to be yourself. Its like being in a weird nightmare only it seems ill never be able to wake up. Is that a way anyone can live peacefully. Humans can undertake enormous amount of pressure and blend in for a long time but something has to break. I can’t escape because I’m still too young. Don’t get me wrong I totally understand why they don’t allow minors to have irreversible steps into transitioning. I know most people my age are incapable of making up their mind . I know many people have had regrets and right now scientifically I am still incapable of making responsible decisions due to my frontal lobe not developed but I still don’t like it. I unlike many people have made up my mind. My mind was made up before I knew the surgeries existed as a child I had dreamed of creating such a surgery since I thought none of the sort existed. Of course I dint have it all worked out but the need for body modification was there. I know I am going to have SRS. I cant even imagine not having it because of the way my life would have to be . I have thought about very thoroughly. I am well aware it may not work out and I may be left with serious complications but these are all risks im willing to take even death. I know I can have serious complications but at least I would have tried. to live life as a girl is not an option for me it never was and never will. I cant even twist my mind to imagine myself with a man or having birth. I would maybe like kids but there is no way I would have them I mean there is always adoption or artificial insemination if my wife wishes that but never shall I be pregnant. Ii don’t need a kid having my genes anyway half my family has a medical disorder and almost three fourths have a metal disorder I would be giving a kid a guaranteed curse.
I spent today at the Club. I left my binging in a class room so I went to get it. When I came back to the gym everyone was lining up boys in one line girls in the other. I quickly lined up in the boys line but to my horror we were lined up to go to wash out hands for lunch . I would have to walk up then the teacher would tell me when to go inside when my turn came. Nothing weird except I knew she would make me go to the girls line in front of everyone. I was a wreck because I didn’t want to be discovered. When I stood up at the front as my turn came she said clearly “ Go to the back of the line Davy”. I knew she meant the girls line but I could not blow my cover so I just stood around in the back of the room not in either of the lines. I figure I would wait till there were no kids in the gym to wash my hands. Still I was a mess thinking “ what if the kids ask questions?” “what will be my excuse?” all these thought making my stomach churn. finally the gym was empty. I slowly went to the teacher and explained how I didn’t want to be known as a girl. She seemed to understand and I washed my hands wondering what I would face at lunch. In the lunch room some kids asked why she kept me after everyone was gone . I said it was nothing just that she needed to ask me some questions concerning my record. I have told them of my past problems so they figured it was the truth and left me alone.