Apparently I Have PTSD

This isn’t the first time I have tried to write this post. My previous draft of this post, written probably in January or February, goes like this:

Apparently I have PTSD.

It came as a total surprise to me when my therapist told me this. As time passed and I thought about it and paid attention to how I reacted to things, though, it kinda made sense. It could explain some things.

I get frustrated when I try to look stuff up about PTSD, though, because most of the stuff out there (that comes up on google, at least) seems more geared towards those who have PTSD stemming from experiences such as war, rape, assault, or long-term abuse. Mine stems from experiences with discrimination.

It’s hard to talk about those experiences. I thought I’d mostly come to terms with them, but apparently not. I mean, I feel like I have a sense of closure over what happened with my former friend/roommate who took issue with me being trans. But any time something happens that feels similar in some way… it’s really hard to deal with. It’s like I’ve got this wound that I thought had healed, but then whenever I get hit in that same spot, or anywhere near it, it hurts a lot more than it should.

Even just writing this is hard in ways that I didn’t anticipate. And it doesn’t help that I keep having these thoughts that my PTSD is less legitimate, somehow, than the PTSD of veterans or rape survivors. I feel like a fake just writing the phrase “my PTSD”.

I still feel like a faker talking about this. Which is silly, right? Why should I feel like a faker because my therapist told me my diagnosis? Even if I got a mistaken diagnosis, that wouldn’t mean I’m faking anything, and it certainly wouldn’t make my problems any less real or legitimate.

But I still get stuck on this. On feeling like I have to defend myself, like I have to keep trying to fit my experiences into a box somehow, so it fits with the current official definition of what counts as a trauma that can cause PTSD.


Returning to the Blogosphere

So, apparently I’m blogging again. No one is more surprised by this than me. The reason I stopped in the first place was to protect myself.

Last spring, people suddenly collectively realized, as if we had just magically appeared, that trans people exist and also use public restrooms. It’s not as if I hadn’t dealt with transphobia before, but I had never felt the weight of it like this before. I used to have this optimistic belief, at least on some level, that people were basically reasonable, that they could be swayed by logical, well-substantiated arguments and evidence. Like I was swayed when I started questioning the things I had been taught while growing up.Read More »

Mental Health Fun-ness, HRT, and Uncertainty

I haven’t been posting very often for the past month or so. Thing is, I’ve been pretty overwhelmed with my college courses (even though I’m only taking 9 hours), and I’m not coping as well as I had been. My depression seems to be getting worse again. Hopefully it’s mostly just a stress thing… but I am noticing some things that tend to be red flags for things going downhill. Like wanting to cut myself, randomly thinking about suicide (non-obsessively, without intent), missing classes, and feeling like everything is starting to fall apart and I am going to fail everything, forever.Read More »

Did They Just Say ‘She’?

One of my classes involves a lot of discussion. I have an obviously masculine name, which has been used to name me many times over the course of the semester. We have also all done oral presentations. No one has given me any sort of problem with my name or appearance all semester, and people generally identify me as male over 90% of the time, anyway. I can almost take it for granted that people will perceive me as male. So when a couple of people referred to me using feminine pronouns during the class discussion today, I wasn’t sure I’d heard them right.Read More »