I had the surgery July 2, and I thought everything would be fine. I thought I would be moving through recovery pretty quickly, and I would be back on my feet before I knew it. Well, that’s not the case. Recovery’s been a slow plodding mess, and I just want it to be over.
I’m struggling pretty bad right now. What, exactly, is going wrong?
Lack of motivation in general. I don’t want to eat healthy. I don’t want to drink water. I don’t want to stay out of the salty snacks. I don’t want to even try with resistance bands, and yes, I know that’s the only form of working out I have available to me.
I’m confronted with the fact I might lose running, period. Running and I have a relationship! I’ve tried other methods, but I keep coming back.
I’ve already mentioned problems with my dad. Lately, I’ve been checking out. In my head, I go to Shelby, Mama Wendy, Kelly and Christina, Kate… mentally, I just go anywhere but here.
Last night, I sobbed because I felt like a tremendous burden since surgery. My dad makes me feel like a burden, and even at group this past Saturday, I felt like a burden for asking for a path to the bathroom.
I think I’ve been drinking too much. When I drink, I fill the glass to the rim. I’ve been doing that too many times this week.
Gender dysphoria kicked my butt this week too. Between hair on my chest, my awful voice, and my lack of breasts, I doubt sometimes and I feel miserable.
But even with this… there is a bit of light. I heard from Mama Wendy last night, and that felt like sunshine to a weary soul. Christina called today. There are people to reach out to when I feel like trash. I don’t have to sit here and be miserable.