Told Therapist

[Elizabeth]

I just wanted to let everyone know that I got in early to see my therapist on thursday. I told her what happened, about taking the overdose of pain meds. We talked about how I started a line of incorrect thinking that snowballed on me. How to look for triggers.

She wants me to see a Psychiatrist. She gave me a referral. She is very concerned, for good reason, that I am not on the right anti-depressant. I will still see her for therapy, but will see the shrink about once every three months.

I have not had this kind of personal ups and downs on such a dramatic scale since the days when I played in a rock band. One minute I am flying high, the next down in the dumps, then indifference, in a random continuing cycle. I know it won't last forever, but I hope I settle down soon. I am going to visit my best friend on Tuesday, he lives on a big ranch in a very Beautiful part of Wyoming. He is a great musician, and I look forward to playing music with him when I get there.
Love to all,
Elizabeth

[Virginia]

Elizabeth,
We are all happy that you got in to see someone, but more than that taking a trip - seeing a friend and doing something that you enjoy can be the best therapy in the world.
Please keep us posted on how it goes and again, never forget we are here for you.
Love,
Deborah

[Beauty]

Enjoy your visit with your friend.

We'll miss you while you're away. Be safe!

We'll be here when you get back!!!

Beauty

[Loretta Ann]

Me too

[Kersten Lee]

Elizabeth,

It's so great to hear your feeling better. I am happy you are seeing a therapist. Those here who believe therapist can be worse than nothing
are right also. I feel you have shown us a good heart. You do know what is
right for you. If you ever feel these people, who are sworn to help, go
against what you believe is true for you, absolutely trust yourself.

Trust the people here also. Share with us. If you get confused, throw it
out here. There are so many kind and caring people with a thousand
years of experience for you to draw from. I know, these wonderful girls
have helped me to see what is real when I have gotten depressed and confused. They have taken time when needed, if only to validate my
existence. People in my life who should have given me this, didn't.
I feel my friends here are my family. You are included now!

I too, wish you a safe and happy visit. Wish I was going too.

Take Care,
Kersten

[Elizabeth]

Thanks everyone.
I just can not say I how look forward to coming here and reading everyone's posts. It is like being reminded I am a human being. I just can not say how great it feels to know I have friends here who care about my troubles. I have never had anyone care before. And many of you seem so strong to me, I am ashamed to admit I am envious. But I figure who would know better than all of you.
I just want all of you to know, I think about all of you a lot now. Not just when I am here, but when I not here. I think about your experiences and pain, and victories, no matter how small. I think about all the advice and new ways to think about things. I have started to see things through the eyes of a child again. I see possibilities, I have questions. I want to know about everything, especially me.
I guess what I am saying is that when you take the time out of your day to sit down and write something, just to help someone else. It is greatly appreciated. Especially by me.
Elizabeth

For anyone interested, this is my family.
http://members.fortunecity.com/wreck1/family.htm

[Beauty]

Awwww.

I agree! It's like what you and Kyra said in another thread. This place is so full of support that it's infectious.

Not that you don't remember this too, but if you hit a low point again, please remember that you have your own support board with your therapist, your children, and your brother and sister in law. The board is also here for you. If you can't get to the internet though, please make sure you talk about your fears or concerns to someone immediately.

It is all of us who make this support forum so loving and pleasurable for everyone. Your post just now was the kind of post that makes this place so excellent!

That was a great post Elizabeth! Thank you for wording something I was thinking too!

Beauty

[Caroline]

Hi Elizabeth,

I just love your atavar. Is that you as a child? The reason I ask is that I have a similar picture of me at about the same age, and it makes me feel so emotional every time I look at it. Your atavar strikes the same response in me. In my mind's eye, you'll always look like that vulnerable child to me, Elizabeth, and it makes me want to reach out and comfort you.

I read your post about ODing. It made me sad. I've met a lot of people who've ODed , and I never know what to say to them to help them to realise that their life, no matter how crappy they think it is, is worth living. I wish I could do something for you, Elizabeth, but I'm afraid that all I can do is make noises in the background. Nevertheless, I know from personal experience that when I feel down, it's nice to know that there's somebody out there who cares. Now you've got somebody else to care for you, Elizabeth.

I also visited your website. What a great family. How could you ever think of taking yourself away from them? I'm sure they would have been devastated if you'd succeeded. I don't think you ever intended hurting them, did you, but that's exactly what you would have done if your ODing had succeeded.

In your second post you say how some of the people here seem so strong to you, and that you're ashamed that you feel envious of that strength. Whilst I agree that envy is not an emotion that should be encouraged, there's no need to feel ashamed just because you feel envious about something.

For example, I feel envious about the fact that you are a musician--I always wanted to be able to express myself that way--but I don't feel ashamed about it. Yes, I can guess what you're thinking right now: if I really had wanted learn to play an instrument, all I had to do was practise. That's true, Elizabeth, and it's exactly the same to become strong. But in the case of learning to be strong, the 'practice' is no more than 'toughening-it-out', day after day, until one day, like learning the guitar or whatever, you can 'play' it as if you were born to it.

I bet you were a good musician, Elizabeth; you can be just as good at being strong too.

Now I just know that you're going to try an disappoint me and tell me that you were actually crap at music, and that's why the other guys flung you out the band, right? If true, so what? You're still a better musician than I am, so chances are that you'll be better than me at anything else I can do.

Take care, and have a great time with your friend in Wyoming.

Kind regards,

Caroline.

[Beauty]

Hi Caroline,

That was a lovely and warm post.

Here's the link to Elizabeth's explanation of that picture.

http://crossdressers-haven.com/forums/v ... ght=#18552

[Elizabeth]

Hi Caroline,
What Beauty said This is just the kind of post I was talking about. Someone taking some time out of their day to try to make someone else feel not so alone.
I am not the greatest musician, but what I lack in technical merit I make up for in "soul". I love how playing music feels, I used to have a room in my basement when i lived in Tennesee where I played my music. It was my sanctuary. That was the place I first dressed up all the way, everything. My wife rarely went down there, and it was pretty safe. I also showered downstairs so it was easy wash off the makeup and nail polish. I used to put on this beautiful black knit dress with long sleeves and my wife had some killer black pumps that I could just squeeze into because they were open toe. But I would dress up, turn the lights out, and just play my guitar for hours on end. It was one of the greatest feelings in the world. Until my wife found out, and I was forced to purge everything. She was so disgusted she threw away all her clothes that I wore, and anything she thought I wore. I have not been fully dressed since.
Fibromyalgia has made it difficult for me to play because my hands cramp and I can't stand for long. Being a Les Paul guy, they are real heavy to hold. So now I play for short bursts, but it is hard to get into a good jam in 20 mins.
I hate being envious because I know that it is unrealistic to set as a standard what others have. I guess I just hope I can get to a point where I feel ok about things. That seems like a long way off right now.
Love to all
Elizabeth

[Caroline]

Hi Beauty,

Thanks for the link.

I've got to rush, because I want to post to Elizabeth, and I don't have much time.

Caroline.

[Caroline]

I've lost the post I was going to send you, Elizabeth, I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong. So here goes, for the second time...

Dear Elizabeth,

Thank you for your reply. I really need to switch back an forward to it so I can refer to it as I write this, but last time I did that I lost all that I'd written to you, so I'll have to work off memory, which isn't too reliable these days.

Beauty gave me a link in which you explained your picture. I followed it up, and was particularly concerned by your remark that the family had kept it just to humiliate you. Forgive me if I've paraphrased you incorrectly, but I don't want to go back for the actual quote in case I lose this again.

That picture doesn' t show a humiliated child, Elizabeth. That picture shows a dear, vulnerable little person who had the right to expect love, protection, and respect from the people in whose care it was. That picture is an indictment against those who failed in their obligations to you, Elizabeth, it does not humiliate you in the slightest.

It sounds pretty cool sitting dressed in your basement playing your wonderful guitar. I would really like to be able to do that. I'm sorry that your wife couldn't accept it, and that she found it disgusting. Do you know why she found it disgusting, and can you tell me about it? No problems if you can't.

I don't think I can say any more just now, Elizabeth.

I'll be listening next week for the sounds of you jamming.

Take care, my dear.

Hugs,

Caroline.

[Elizabeth]

Caroline,

The picture itself is not humiliating, that is why I use it here. It was the concept of the picture. Anytime anyone wanted to show that I was a weak person, or that I was not man enough, or I was scared of something, they would bring up the picture and remind everyone what a cute girl I was. In a sarcastic and demeaning way. That was the humiliating part. There were also constant references to how I not only looked cute dressed as a little girl, but I also acted like one. I could not throw a rock or a ball, I still can't. I coached little league football for 8 years, and every 10-12 year old on the team could throw farther than me.

Remember the kid in "Stand By Me" who was afraid to cross the train bridge? That was me. I was always that one who spoiled it for everyone else, because I would be afraid. My brother always had to tell others to leave me alone.

I don't ever remember feeling masculine. That in itself can be quite confusing to a kid. I hated that I was always afraid of what others were not. Anyway, I hope that answers your question.
Elizabeth

[Terry Gal]

Remember the kid in "Stand By Me" who was afraid to cross the train bridge? That was me. I was always that one who spoiled it for everyone else, because I would be afraid. My brother always had to tell others to leave me alone.

Oh, Hon, I know what you mean. I never felt feminine as a boy, but
I was scared of *everything*. Machinery, especially any kind of
pump, was unnerving, because you never knew when it was going to
start up without warning and make you jump. And apartment houses
were scary, because when they let you in, the door *snarled* at you.
I would have nightmares in which mechanical or electrical things
buzzed at me.
.
I don't know when or how I outgrew this. I certainly made enough
buzzers as a slightly older boy, and a career in electronics
certainly involved my making enough unexplained noises. (And I've
installed a couple of those door openers, too.)
.
Time heals, I guess.
.
--Terry Gal

[Caroline]

Caroline,

The picture itself is not humiliating, that is why I use it here. It was the concept of the picture. Anytime anyone wanted to show that I was a weak person, or that I was not man enough, or I was scared of something, they would bring up the picture and remind everyone what a cute girl I was. In a sarcastic and demeaning way. That was the humiliating part. There were also constant references to how I not only looked cute dressed as a little girl, but I also acted like one. I could not throw a rock or a ball, I still can't. I coached little league football for 8 years, and every 10-12 year old on the team could throw farther than me.

Remember the kid in "Stand By Me" who was afraid to cross the train bridge? That was me. I was always that one who spoiled it for everyone else, because I would be afraid. My brother always had to tell others to leave me alone.

I don't ever remember feeling masculine. That in itself can be quite confusing to a kid. I hated that I was always afraid of what others were not. Anyway, I hope that answers your question.
Elizabeth

Hi Eliabeth,

Thanks for the explanation. What you have to say about people referring to the photo to 'put you down' reinforces my point. The way your family used that photo is an indictment of them, and though as a child you felt humiliated by them doing that, the fact remains that an adult and mature person would see it for what it was: an attempt to make you feel bad for their own inadequacies and failings.

In many respects our childhood is similar, except for the fact that I was an only child, and in often a lonely child too. I couldn't throw balls or catch them, was useless at football (our National sport), couldn't even pretend to support a local team (which helps define you because it has an important religious significance in Scotland). I was scared of heights, and couldn't fight ( being able to fight is a very important attribute in Scotland, where brutish behaviour and violence is still all too prevalent). I was only ever good at two things:running, because I spent a lot of my time running away from other kids, and crying, which is what I did when they caught me.

As an aside, let me add that when I went home crying, I would often get 'a leathering', i.e. a quaint Scottish custom where a child is thrashed across their bare buttocks with a man's leather belt. Until very recently, this practice was endorsed by the educational establishment in Scotland too, where children as young as 4 who 'misbehaved' in class, i.e. this included not knowing the answer to a question, were thrashed across their open palm with a leather strap called ' a tawse'.

As you might expect, I was became introspective, amused myself for much of the time , and became an avid reader so I could escape into books, but these were all things that separated me even further from my contemporaries. You know what it's like with gangs of kids, anyone who stands out or is different in any way is picked upon. The response expected of male children as young as 4 is to fight with fists, but I would run away, hounded by jeering taunts.

So, as a kid, I grew up never feeling that I was a 'wee man', and I think my father first turned against me when he realised that I wasn't going to be a macho hunk like him. That gave my mother full rein to do what she liked with me, and she took full advantage of her power over me. I was never made to feel masculine, though I wasn't aware of feeling feminine. I was just made to feel weak and unworthy as a male, until very soon I came to believe it.

As if all that wasn't enough, there was all the other stuff going on that I've alluded to in other posts, but whether that is a separate issue--by which I mean independent events that would have had their own consequences--or not, I am not sure, even to this day.

Suffice to say, it took me decades to learn that masculinity has nothing to do with being physically strong or 'hard' and able to fist-fight, just as femininity has nothing to do with wearing a skirt per se.

There are two reasons for telling you all this, Elizabeth. First, is to show you that I really do understand what you went through--and, to a certain extent, still are (as am I). Second, to let you know that I still managed to develop into a decent person, despite all the harm that was done to me--and, I'm sorry to say, some of the harm I did to myself in my earlier days.

I am sure that you've managed to turn into a decent person too.

Courage, mon brave--or should that be 'ma brave'?

Kind regards, and take care,

Caroline.