The Cheese Encrusted Self-Loathing

Welcome back, Socket Seekers,

After that therapy session, the part of me that lives in the shadows—and tells me to order a cheese encrusted burrito from Taco Bell to go with my three normal tacos—decided to show its truly dark side. I had these dark thoughts that I was making a mistake and that I didn't deserve to transition.

This monster that keeps me the size of a hot air balloon then drove thoughts of trying to stop my transition by looking for the highly scientifically disproven method of conversion therapy. I spent hours searching for anyone that still performed it and anyone that claimed it worked. That shadow part of me had determined that going through conversion therapy would be easier than living the rest of my life as my true self.

I know this is extreme, but I wanted to tell you where I was. I had this thought that I am 53, and maybe if it could convince me to wear the masculine disguise I have presented to the world for the remaining part of my life, it would be easier than being myself. I just wanted to go back to that version of me before I started buying every feminizing product on the market.

I then tried to do my therapy homework. My therapist wanted me to find a General Practitioner doctor. She wants me to have a checkup, and I haven't had a checkup since before some of my coworkers were born.

Since I would rather eat a tractor tire coated in manure, I did what I do: I searched online for hours looking for a place with a fast entrance so I can get in and out quickly. I looked at Google Street View locations of certain businesses that attract people that hate trans people—the ones that put these big plus signs on the outside of their buildings.

She is treating me for agoraphobia and she thinks this is a good step. I think she is trying to inflict torture on me. Most of this is from me feeling like a liar and a fraud with everyone I meet.

Useful recap:

• Conversion therapy doesn't work.
• It's not available where I live.
• Tractor tires covered in manure are disgusting.

Disclaimer: I never actually tasted a tractor tire covered in manure so I could be wrong. I am not willing to find out.