I think I'm probably about to up the bar again
 

Well, I suspect this is going to be a trip. Because the following is going to be exceptionally long and putting it in the thread starter would be downright criminal once this reaches multiple pages (and trust me, it will), please brace for impact. You really need to brace for impact.

DISCLAIMER FROM FUTURE PSI/UP: DON'T READ THIS MOPEY GARBAGE. IT WAS JUST ME ADMITTING THAT I'M TRANS IN AN OVERLY DRAMATIC FASHION. THINGS ARE QUANTIFIABLY MORE AWESOME FOR ME NOW THAN THEY WERE FOUR YEARS AGO, THE END.

I think it sucks.

So... I'm a girl.

I know I've posted lots of wacky shit here over the years. Sometimes out of boredom, sometimes because I'd really like to think I'm funny, and sometimes because I was just in the mood to do so. This isn't one of those wacky moments. This is me, taking a very small step towards doing something I've wanted to do and saying something I've wanted to say to someone, ANYONE, for the longest damn time.

Yep. I'm "coming out." I'm transgendered. "MtF," in popular parlance (figure it out). Gender dysphoric to the max! "Evil, demon-possessed, deluded homo." Whatever you want to call me. And no, not in the Eddie Izzard "executive transvestite" way. I mean the, "I've known and felt I was female, in some way, for as long as I can remember despite being born in a male body" way. The "lots of early suicides and lots of shattered lives due to not being accepted by friends and family" way. Now, why would a girl like me not want to shout about that from the mountaintops?

I have cringed every time I've been referred to as a "he," or a "him," or an "(insert masculine pronoun here)" over the entirety of my 19 years of "existence." Well, minus the first couple of years. I think it was an accomplishment to simply eat and crap my pants at that point (Does that look like I said I ate my pants when I was very young to you? It does to me.). Regardless, from my earliest memories, I can recall almost intuitively knowing, or somehow inferring from responses I got when engaging in "wrong" behavior, that I would be well-advised to drop it and act another way or face some sort of terrible consequences that I couldn't even imagine (and now, looking back, I don't know what punishment is worse than being locked inside a ****ing miserable, hollow shell of a life and sleepwalking through my days while fearing any social interaction and going into some hyper-alert state of panic during said interactions because I might do something to "give myself away," but the logic of a four year old carried over into real-life application for the following fifteen years isn't exactly amazing).

Funny thing is, I would always end up doing things to trip my plans up and make me ripe for identification. For instance, the 6th grade book fair. I was never well-liked by my classmates at the private school I had only just begun attending, and even though I'd been a good baseball player, my skills apparently didn't equate well to kickball. Every day, I thought I'd prove something to them. Every day, I sucked. I dunno, it was a weird time. Anyways, I had just enough change left over to buy a poster -- but not enough for a book -- at this book fair. I'm not sure what there was, but the only thing I could see myself spending my money on was a poster featuring a cute little polar bear cub. So I bought that one. What the hell compelled me to do this, when I knew full well I was already disliked and picked on? Like I said, I dunno. I made up some incredibly brilliant cover story about it being for my cousin, but it still didn't change the fact that I had to carry around that damn polar bear poster all day and be ridiculed by both boys and girls alike for it.

Okay, I'm rambling, and this is going nowhere. Long story short, I got another shot at another private school in the 10th grade. Quit by November, shortly before an awakening of sorts, due to mysterious reasons like, "it's too far from home" and the ever-incredible, "I just didn't like it." Why did I really quit? I was tormented every day, even though the people there were almost all pretty darn nice, even the ones I had gone to school with before (2nd-5th grades, my halcyon days if I ever had them) and hadn't been in the same circles with at the time. All around me were girls of all types, and I was completely out of place every single day. I didn't want to make out with them like my male classmates presumably did, I wanted to BE them. I wanted to be the somewhat geeky girl with the medium-length blonde hair and the thick glasses who loved Slipknot (okay, taste in music aside). I wanted to be the girl with braces and a very nice body and great, rusty blond-ish hair. I didn't want to be the girl with the pig-laugh as much as I wanted to be one of the aforementioned girls, but I'd have gladly accepted that, too.

For God's sake, how the hell could I have broken through that initial wall in the way of the seemingly unattainable goal of not being miserable? I mean, this is the first time I've ever even been able to TYPE it out, much less say it to someone, and I'm doing this in WordPad, and I'm not sure I'll even get up the nerve to C&P this over to the reply box. It is beyond ****ing torture to know who you are and are NOT and be told by society through years and years of conditioning that you MUST pretend to be the one you're not. It is immeasurably horrible to hide who you really are because you're scared you'll get into some sort of trouble or have things become even worse. But then, it's even worse to realize that YOU HAVE NOTHING EVEN WITH THE FACADE and still remain silent because you're so scared of what could happen to ruin an already ruined life.

I have finally decided to take that step because only now do I truly realize what I've lost and what I will continue to lose by lying to others. I've long since given up on lying to myself, but keeping secrets has never been my favorite thing, even if I'm prone to keep secrets in spite of myself; Come on, I kept the fact that my eyesight was terrible from my parents for six years. It's why I quit baseball in the first place (imagine almost hitting a home run but having it be snagged at the wall by an outfielder and being confused because you're trying to interpret signals from your coaches and teammates to tell you whether you need to round the bases or go back to the dugout). SIX YEARS. That's a pretty minor bit of information in the grand scheme of things, and here I am holding it in as if I were afraid of being labeled a freak like those poor transgendered people or som--oh, right. Damn. How the hell will I ever let that one out? :rolleyes:

Why all the boring backstory? Not sure. It isn't all that illuminating, in retrospect. I actually just chopped out a large chunk of it that did nothing but take up even more space. My hands are shaking, my spelling's shit, I've locked the cats out of this room which contains their food and litter box, and I know I've probably left lots of thoughts hanging despite the length... sorry for the generaly incoherency (hey, cool band name).

Okay, one very ironic aside before continuing. My bed sheets are pink. I originally acquired them on a temporary basis while washing my old light blue ones, but they're much more comfortable and, like I said, I love the irony and the in-joke aspect of the blue comforter on the outside and the pink sheets on the inside.

Anyways, I'm sure I'll regret posting this at some point in the very near future (like... hmm... now). But I've made up my mind after literally thrashing about my bed for long periods of time over the past twenty-four to thirty-six hours, yelling at my ceiling, at God or God know's what, or yelling at nothing in particular about "blue balloons" and "pink ballons" and why they make them and why I and so many others were put in the wrong ****ing pile, and HOW ****ING CRUEL CAN YOU BE TO KNOWINGLY DO THAT TO SOMEONE?! I had seriously reached a breaking point, and I wasn't sure if those idle thoughts of suicide would remain so idle anymore. So, I came to the conclusion that today is the big day, and hopefully not just on this forum or the internet in general.

Friday the 13th. As always, my timing is beyond impeccable. And even though Dave Chappelle just took a break from dealing with his own shit right now and called me from South Africa to remind me that you can sometimes keep it too real, I somehow thought the best way to jump into that vast ocean called "OMGWTFBBQ" was to post this somewhat anonymously (but with my intraweb cred at stake -- for a shut-in like me, that's big!) on a very lively SPORTS-driven message board with thousands of members.

I'm sure I'll be treated differently, and probably not in a good way, but oh well. If I never get a rep comment in which I'm referred to as "man" again, it'll be at least a little bit worth it. And I'm sure some people will feel free to tell me I'm evil or sick (and I am sick, in other ways that I suspect are caused by hiding my identity for my entire life -- wanna know why I'm so forgiving with Ricky Williams? Because I am absolutely positive that I've got Social Anxiety Disorder, which has a damn appropriate acronym, and I've been afraid to get it addressed because I was scared of this getting out along with it.) and going to hell or whatever, or if not tell me at least think it. That's fine. I may not ever be able to be a "regular" poster on what I've considered to be a great outlet again, and that's fine, too, even if it'll hurt a little and I'm sure I'll be upset when I feel rejected over this, even if only 1% were doing that and the other 99% said, "I don't profess to know what it's like or even to know much about it, but you go, girl." Yes, the last part was a joke. The "you go, girl," part anyways.

Like I said at the beginning of this novel-length... thing, I AM A GIRL. A nineteen year old girl with a very weird upbringing that she hated nearly every moment of and issues galore, to be sure, but yes, I am a girl. And being able to type that right now, after so long being unable to muster the strength, makes me feel like that misery was worth it.

So, there went nothing. My official entry in the "worst post ever" contest. I'm going to let the cats back in here so they can eat and and I'll go take a shower now. I'll check back in on the mayhem later.

Hoooooooly shit.

I can't ****ing believe I clicked the button. Awesome.

I feel like I'm about to vomit, but... awesome.

Great story, man.

Dude - that's horrible. I'm changing your name to Hel'n immediately.

Fly, is that you? :)

If you've got a Donger, you're not a girl.

FTR - Did Mr. Kotter force you into sharing this?

I always suspected something like this.

do you have cliff notes for this??

ROFL

Right on....

He hopes that we'll retain Johnny Morton.

She has an unwanted penis. You'll be reading about an unsanitary surgery performed on two card tables in a Detroit rental house on the national news in a couple weeks.

so what, I put ketchup on my steak.....yeah, I said it...

That took the courage of Rich Scanlon to post.

My Father, God rest his soul, would have turned over in his grave if he had read that. Ketchup?

so, what this post really means, is that there are more transgendered posters than democrats on the planet...

This thread is worthless without pics.

oh, thanks for sharing...

seriously, it isn't healthy to keep humungo secrets like that...god loves everybody regardless of what Tom Delay says.....

No, it means that all Democrats are also closet transgendered.

We're open-minded around here, but C'MON!!!! Democrats in our midst??

Can you dress up like Carol Vermeil in a red dress and let us judge your "hotness?"

I figure that took some baows to post if it weren't a joke, man.

I think you need some counseling if you're serious, but you're pretty funny on the planet. I won't fug with you about it unless you deserve it.
It has zero effect on me if you want to be a ballerina, but don't expect me to skip in the parade with you.

Is it too early to nominate this for the Hall of Classics forum?

thread title was an interesting choice

This certainly helps explain your quirky sense of humor.


Is this for real? Or is it another part of the Planet that I haven't been around long enough to have caught on to? The responses so far lead me to believe it's the latter, so I'm withholding any comments for fear of making a fool of myself (which is ironic considering...).

I've always wanted to have sex with Psi. I'm glad that makes me normal now.

Holden Caufield?

Makes his, er, um, whatever, moniker right on.

Oh. Sorry. My bad on the 'he' part.

Well, that explains why Psi likes soccer....

This makes Psi not a "real fan" by the way...

More like (S)he'll ??

:D




.

"'Just when you thought you'd seen it all, Psicosis ups the bar.' - tk13"

I remember CP saying that no transgendereds (uh, is this an appropiate term? I'm new at this...) had ever approached him on the Plaza to complain.

After reading this incredibly looooong heartfelt confession, I can honestly say I agree with her 100%: General Incoherency would be a really cool band name.

Actually, I really don't think that makes you normal.

Has anyone met Psi? And if you have, would you hit it?

Is this for real? :spock:

Hey, what are you trying to say? I pretty much have the same sense of humor as Psi!


Psi- I think you're funny regardless. I have always enjoyed your posts and hopefully you will continue to post them.

In a bit of good news, this almost doubles the number of women who will talk to me.

I blame myself. I think it's something we did, collectively as an entity. I plan to cut myself as punishment. No, not there - on the leg or something.

It's about times somone started asking the important questions here.

Also, if she's repped you, does that make you teh ghey?

NTTAWWT.

I don't know her, but judging on my past "hits" (except my wife, of course)... I'd have to say, "Yes."

:sulk:

Seriously though...

Have/Are you going to get the operation?
Which sex do you prefer to date?
What does your family say/think?
Have you even told your family?

You should get yourself scheduled to be neutered ASAP. Those docs are in high demand, so you want to get it done before you change your mind.

Are you going to be a lesbian or a straight tranny?

I happen to like pink sheets.

I bet if it's small (s)he'll be going with an inny

Another ?: Have you had sex with a woman before?

I checked on about every three hours today and almost started a thread along the lines of "Pretty Boring Today".

This place never ceases to amaze me.

Dude, be yourself and do what makes you happy. We'll all be worm food someday, at least try to be a happy person.

Now, I'm off to beat up some nerds, goose some teenage girls and drink beer.

Really. I just added it to my list.

closet tranny. :shake:

Yeah Psi, except with your mom of course.

IS THIS FOR REAL???? If so, it is one of the bravest things I've ever experienced. If not... It's pretty funny in a sick kind of way. It's better than chopping off cats heads with a lawn mower.

Do it on the inside of your thigh, right up by your hip. You'll have to press hard, though.

That explains your affection for LA.

ROFL ROFL ROFL

You can save yourself a lot of time by finding Psicosis.

BTW Psi - I am just trying to be funny.

If this is what you want, it is your business. Like Otter said, live life like ya want. It ain't any of our business.

Hope I didn't offend you. Wait. I'll change that to hope I don't offend you.

Because I'm going to take this one yard.

:clap:

I don't know. It sounds like you're tricking me. But what the hell, maybe my underwear will fit better.

Seems like a bit of an over-generalization

:Poke:

If you put the tag in back they'll cradle it better Tiny.

ROFL

Would that be Trans-thread humor I see? :hmmm:

The toughest part about this for me is that it's practically killed my 'extended family birth order' thread.

Sound familiar?


This certainly helps explain your quirky sense of humor.

:)

Whatever, as long as the post is funny or has an interesting point of view I'm good to go.

Dave

I just had the strangest mental image of a large Brazilian shemale standing in a closet saying to me, "¿Puedo tomar yo su abrigo?"

Actually, I put both legs in one 'leg hole' and dangles the boys through the other. Yeah, it usually looks like a blind munkey on a bender dressed me.

I don't want to steal any thunder from Psi, but I also want to announce that I am a lesbian.

Put the potato in front...

Trapped in a man's body?

I must confess, I eat pie too.

I'm pretty sure by "trophy" he means the Governor's Cup.

"Where's the other governor?!"

I wonder, has PsicoSIS ever heard the story about the boy who cried wolf? I know it's a story about a boy, but the moral remains, you little bitch.

The wolf is sitting next to me. We're playing cards, and he's patting me on the back telling me everything will be okay.

Say, anyone know what foods mix well with the taste of bile?