Tips for trans guys

F*cking psy (f*cking life)

Today, my dad called the specialised psy for me, to plan an appointement or something. It didn't last long, in 2 minutes on the conversation, she said:

- No we don't take minors 

And immediatly hang up.

So my dad called again

To learn her life I guess

Poor her

She couldn't know it was going to be my father

So yeah, I'm pretty much annoyed because if even the person that are supposed to help me are like that, how am I gonna do... Like, is it going to be like that my whole life? Can't anyone make this easy for once ?

I'm tired and pissed off.

I wish there was a sort of machine that determine if I'm trans or not, and then, it gives me T. I don't really feel like explaining my whole life to a psy again, for them to judge me, to judge if for them I'm trans,  let my fucking future in their hands , and if they don't like me they just can say "no, you're not, go die."

I've felt really better when I last talked to my parents, because things were progressing, but I'm starting to lose hope. We have to find another psy, a good one,  wait for all the appointments, and then, maybe after all this time, MAYBE I'll have access to T. And then maybe my parents will see me as a guy and call me by male pronoms and a male name. Because for the moment, they consider they pass their last instants with their daughter that is going to diseaper, BRO I'M RIGHT HERE AND THEY ARE CRYING OVER MY DEATH. It's exhausting, really.

As if feeling miserable with myself every damn second of my life, knowing my hapiness leads to my parents unloving me wasn't enought... ho nonono, there should be even more, the medical system is just making the suffering a little bit more important.

Guys, I can't do this any longer ?! I walked on my brother last night, he was shirtless, and I just cried. My teacher called me mademoiselle deadname (miss) and I wanted to kill myself. I heard the voice of a guy in a movie, a fucking movie and I cried again ?! 

Does cis people doing plastic surgery have to fight for a diagnostic, a little paper that confirm they are "ew I find me ugly" medically? No because tell me, really, I'll just go in plastic surgery and tell them that I want a flat chest because it's "a e s t h e t i c ".

I'm loosing it.  I want to medically transition since I'm thirteen. I've spent my whole puberty feeling like I was dying, miserable, unable to shower or get dressed, and I still have to wait because you know, "you're not sure, you're just a teen, and your brain isn't complet right know." But Bitch who told me I was 'gifted' ? Is that really important what an assehole payed for nodding and faking listening people for hours think about me?

And my parents are still harassing me , telling me that I should go test my I.Q, like all of those idiots told them, just so they have an argument for my "difference". AND ABOUT THAT, every fucking "psy" seeing me and just telling "have you ever tested your IQ?" "yeah, it's because you are a gifted child", but FOR GOD'S SAKE, if you are that clever to see that, how can you be stupid enough to not realize I'm dying inside when you call me miss ?! They just fucking confuse "intelligence" and "sarcasm".

...

I feel like I'm never going to success this. And if I can't have T, if I can't change this body, then I can't do anything either. If I have to stay as a woman, I prefer to die right now. I can't. I can't help but wonder how would my life have been if I've been conceived by a sperm carrying a Y chromosome: Probably so much better.  I can't do it if my body doesn't change, if my voice doesn't change... I don't even ask to be attractive, muscular or anything: Just give me some suplementary inches, low voice and basically, passing as a man. 

I just want to be in peace with myself. But for that, I apparently have to show to entiere world I'm who I say I am, that I feel what I say I feel. They never believe me. Nobody. When I told my mother my back hurt, she said I was doing this to skip gym: I have a scoliosis. When I told my teacher I wasn't feeling well, he said I just wanted to go home earlier: five minutes later, I pucked on his desk. What should I do to prove them I feel bad, jump of a window?

Sorry, just needed to let this out. 

I'll do something useful next time to catch myself from this chapter.