.gender dysphoria.

Jul. 17th, 2017 02:19 am
yuuo: (It's amazing to me)
[personal profile] yuuo
I don't talk too terribly much about my gender identity- I'm not exactly secretive about it, but I prefer to not talk too much, because I don't need it getting back to my mother and having another argument about GLBT issues that she knows dickall about because she's one of those Christians that make anyone sane hate them all forever without discrimination burn that mother fucking institution down to prevent more like her.

Just to give you an idea of what her stance on those issues is.

But, as it is mentioned in my profile, I'm pretty laid back about my gender identity. I consider myself Third Gender, in that I am both female and male, depending basically upon where my head is. My hormones don't play a role in that, either- I have an IUD that completely flattens everything and keeps them stable.

But, despite being third gender, I am so apathetic about my pronouns that I'll answer to whatever, including 'hey you' if you're nice about it. I tend towards female pronouns because I'm female-bodied and was assigned female at birth. I am super lazy about my pronouns, because- and I stress that this is for me personally, and not my opinion of those for whom it is the opposite -I don't find it a reason to get bitchy. For me, my pronouns aren't a reason to get up into a snit over, because they're not important to me.

Again, I stress that this is for me only. Of course pronouns can be super important, if they're important to the person wanting certain ones used! And I respect that, and will never tell them they're getting up in a tizz about 'nothing' when to them, it isn't nothing.

But for me, in my life, it is nothing.

So you know, keep calling me whatever you wish, I'm cool with it.

Now, that all out of the way, because I'm just sure that if I hadn't, someone would have thrown a cock and bull shitfit at me, and I'm sure there's someone who still would, but I really don't give a fuck about them at that point.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh, right.

Because I've always been comfortable with my female body, or mostly, anyway- my complaints with the icky bleeding thing aside (shut up, I find it icky, that is not ingrained misogyny, that's me hating blood) -I so rarely get body dysphoria. So very rarely. I get a little weird during sex, because that's when my male brain really kicks into gear, but usually, I'm okay with handling my clit or using a fake dick and my fingers to satisfy the need to, you know, thrust.

Right now? No. Oh no.

My libido is rockin' with its tits out, but it wants a penis. Specifically for me to have one. (I am vagina-sexual- cocks don't come near me unless it's fake.) I'm like. "Body. You don't know what it feels like to grab penis and feel it because it's attached to you. You don't. Stop trying to figure out why you can't."

And this makes masturbation very uncomfortable. When your body desperately wants you to be able to grab a piece of external plumbing and go to town, and all you can do is rub at a tiny little nub between a pair of labia lips, it is extremely disorienting, and it makes my reactions to the stimulation weak.

But my libido is driving me crazy and I keep squirming because hot damn, does my body want to orgasm.

Come on, body. Stop this. STOP THIS. STOP THIS THIS INSTANT.

Sigh.

To my fellow vagina-bearing, penis-wanting people, I am feeling that pain something awful right now. Fist bump for surviving without going completely nuts yet.

...

Er.

Maybe not the best wording there.

.because i want to.

Jul. 8th, 2017 07:20 am
yuuo: (Here's to us here's to love)
[personal profile] yuuo
Wife's double-mastectomy went well. Surgeon said he got everything that looked abnormal out of her breast and lymph nodes. (I'd hope he got it all out of her breasts, he took those completely off.) What he took out looked like scar tissue to him, so it's possible she's 100% NED. (Note: NED, not cured. There is no cure for Stage IV breast cancer.) NED meants she's got a decent chance at being one of those tiny outliers who live decades beyond diagnosis. She's already made it past the average three years, and is running strong.

The surgery to remove her ovaries was also successful- they did those at the same time.

She is home, and kinda fading in and out regularly from pain and painkillers. (Hydrocodone/Ibuprofen is a magical thing, and also, if you have issues with Acetaminophen for whatever reason, like my wife, whose cancer had metastasized to her liver, demand this stuff. It's one of the only opiates that's stronger than Tramadol that doesn't come only with Tylenol in it.) But at this exact second, she's up and coherent and on her laptop.

Photographer friend, is who is the first father I became friends with and therefore is very important to us, is leaving today, and it saddens me. Wife's parents leave in a few more days, and Wife's best friend/heart sister is showing up right after that, so I have help with Wife's drains and general care at least until she's at a point where I can do it by myself without having a meltdown. I love my wife, will do anything for her, but uh. I'm not a natural caretaker. I'm not a white mage. I'm the defender. I will fight to the death for her, but medical care is a bit beyond me, at least for long term. So family and friends are all in town to help and I'm so grateful for it.

I'm getting excited to be roleplaying on IJ again. I've been getting some with Wife, but that's on hold until she's fully coherent on a regular basis and can tag without feeling wonky. But, my own heart-sister is joining in, and I'll be playing with her in the meantime. ^_^ Happy me is happy.

I've been kinda plugging away at Hephaestus in the meantime, and Prometheus will be picked back up once I know what's going on in the parts those two overlap at the end. I have a chapter in there to finish now, but it's smushy fluff, and while I love smushy fluff, I have trouble writing it. I'm that writer who likes to rip up your heart and use it for lawn mulch with little reprieve. Suffer my pen. Mwaha.

Cats are doing fine, all told. Loki got his annual and his three year rabies on Wednesday, and Wife went in for surgery on Thursday, so he is more riled than the others. Lots of new people, constantly invading their space (we had some other friends over last night for weekly gaming session), one of them ended up taking a dump on the floor out of stress protest, and we think it might've been Loki, but we're not sure. Thankfully, it was Carolyn who was here to clean it up, and I was at the hospital, so I didn't have to deal with that. :p I'm such a nice person (I would've done it if it'd been me to discover it. I'm not terrible to my cats.)

Although, speaking of taking care of the cats, I need to clean their box. Will do that when I'm done here.

On the mental health front, my doctor put me on clonazapam for my anxiety, since the Ativan had just stopped working and the hydroxyzine was only good for low grade treatment. It puts me to sleep, but it calms my mind in the process. The Ativan put me to sleep, but I was still wound up tighter than a spring when I'd wake up.

I also got my Fetzima upped, because not only is it an anti-depressant, being an SNRI instead of an SSRI, it helps with anxiety... and energy levels. So in about a week, I should start seeing an end to my hypersomnia, at least the level it's been at. It's caffeine pills in the meantime so I can be up when Wife needs me.

And now, I run to do that cat box. Have a good day, friends.

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