401 days.

In the past 401 days, I have learned one thing about life: "no one gives you anything, you have to take it."

Yes, this was one of the opening lines of The Departed, but like any line in any movie, it's easy to dismiss as merely poetic and largely inapplicable to one's own life.  But no, Jack Nicholson was on to something here.

In my previous life, let's just say, life before 401 days ago, I had more issues than Vogue and more problems than the math SATs.  I hated school, I hated my life, I was absolutely miserable, and I couldn't figure out why.  Or I could, but I just didn't want to acknowledge it.  It seemed that if I wasn't battling this demon or that, it was my issues with food, my latest skin regime, my trying to acquire the mindset of those around me (and always failing), or my trying to gain inner peace while secretly wanting to destroy every cell in my body.  So, if I'm doing all this, how in the hell was I supposed to be able to look out at the world around me, see the much bigger problems that faced humanity, and shape myself into a creature that would work to benefit all?  It was increasingly hard for me to give a damn about starving kids in Africa if I was counting my own calories.

So what happened 401 days ago?  I got kicked out of my college.  No, it wasn't for anything behavior related... essentially, while I was busy trying not to kill myself, I had let my grades and others measures of success fall by the wayside.  I also had several differences of opinion than those in higher positions of power.  I won't go into details... but it was a poisonous relationship from the beginning that I only miraculously kept going for 4 1/2 years.  

Four hundred and one days ago, I realized that I was free for the first time in my life.  I would never allow myself to be influenced by the wishes my parents projected onto me and I would never allow a superficial world dictate who I was.  But before I could do any of this, I had to figure out why I was still miserable and making everyone around me feel the same.  So I came out to my family as being transsexual.  I continued to see the therapist I had begun seeing in college and I sought out top surgery options.  Thirty-six days after being kicked out of school, I was with my best friend having top surgery in Timonium, MD.  How do I explain the experience?  I was only mildly nervous before I went in... I guess of all the spiders, plane crashes, poisonous milipedes, rapists, and murders out there, I never bothered to consider surgery as something I should be afraid of.  The last thing I heard before I went to sleep was, "I'm going to give you a little something to help you relax," from the anasthesiologist... to which I replied, "I thought you were just gonna give me a LITTLE someth---" *Out.*  I dreamt of a giant party on a beautiful beach in Mexico surrounded by the operating staff and family and friends.  As I was regaining consciousness, I was so elated that before I opened my eyes, I was offering to buy the surgeon, anasthesiologist, and the nurses Coronas and margaritas!  LOL.  

Recovery was amazing.  In the history of that particular surgery, I think I hold the record for the fastest recovery time.  And there are a couple of reasons for this.  The minor reasons: 

1) I've never smoked. 

2) I hadn't had a drink in weeks. 

3) I wasn't on testosterone at the time. 

4) I'm stubborn. 

5) I am a vegan (vegetarian at the time).  

But I'm sure it was the major reasons that matter: 

1) I had an incredibly supportive best friend who drove me to and from there, who waited 2 hours in the waiting room for me, who made sure I had everything I needed to eat and drink, who let me stay at her apartment for the week since my parents would have created too much stress, and who gave me a chanting device to listen to sort of as a lullaby when I was tired and had to drug myself back to sleep.  I heart you, R!  

2) It was spring, and while the weather was still cold, R took me on walks to get fresh air while she attempted to fish in the nearby lake.  The calm, coolness of the park was incredibly refreshing... she didn't encourage me to stay in bed and 'rest' all week cause she knew how restless I am.

3) Because I had absolutely no regrets before or after, I felt no guilt, and because my mind knew that this was as my body should be, it healed itself accordingly.

Today I celebrate my one year anniversary, post-op. :)

Now, between surgery and now, I had to do a few things.  I was living at home, which both of my parents didn't particularly like (well, my dad didn't/doesn't) which meant that I couldn't ask either of them for anything.  Not even support after surgery.  So, for the next couple of weeks I contently sat at home and used the pain pills which I didn't need during recovery (yeah, recovery was THAT quick and painless!) Then I got a job, then two more after the first job ended.  I would never ask them for money, and if I wanted to get my degree, I'd pay for it myself.  Unfortunately, after surgery and having my own money, I still wasn't happy.  

In November I began hormones.  Now, I'm kind of ambivalent about my experience so far.  Today also marks me being on testosterone for 20 weeks.  In that time, I have grown minimal body hair (get a magnifying glass, you'll see it!) and my voice has really, barely changed.  I look incredibly androgynous, and not in a 'good' way (more of in a "I can't decide if that's a boy or a girl, so I'm just going to call 'it' a girl..." sort of way).  Oh, and my face is breaking out like it's job and  I've gained weight cause being on T is like perpetually having the munchies.  So all in all, I'd give it two thumbs down.  Maybe this November, one year later, my feelings will be different.

So, I think my recap of the past year has been pretty extensive (read: word, long-winded) but I did want to end on one personal observation.  In my past life, I never really did anything about things that bothered me or things I wanted to improve on because I felt like they were things that would never change.  Beginning transitioning, I realize just how much I control everything in my life.  I have just finished and mailed 3 of my 4 college transfer applications, I have finally seen a dermatologist about my skin and gotten on a very expensive (though I guess effective?) plan, and now that the weather's getting warmer, I guess I'll start running and shedding this newly acquired flab (in addition to the old, latent flab...) 

Geez, and who would have thought that all it took for me to be independent and to make things happen was for me to finally just be myself?