does your fear not grow... | 03/12/2010 |
It's been a while.
My psychiatric interview or whatever you want to call it... went well. It was a strange experience. It felt almost like a job interview, at first. I was sitting in a waiting room - I had been advised to dress female and felt particularly awkward. There was an FtM patient sitting there, too, and... it struck me as funny, which is so inappropriate. We had questionaires, I'm sure it was the same one the community counsellor had me fill out. He asked what a question meant, forcing his voice lower, and I replied, squeaky - I know, it's what's supposed to happen, but I always want to roll my eyes at myself. It sounds ridiculous. I suppose, it will, for a long time.
We went into our separate rooms. I was surprised to see my NHS therapist sitting there, smiling at me, as well as the psychiatrist. That put me at ease, instantly.
"Tell me about yourself." What an open-ended question. I struggled, whispered, looked at the floor... in retrospect, I understand the question was to get the nerves out of me before she moved onto more serious questions.
"Would you say that you're a happy person?" "What do you understand by the term gender?" "What research have you done?" "Say you're at work, and a colleague is bullying you - laughing at you - calling you names - what would you do?"
"Well, I'd report them!"
She seemed shocked. Taken aback. Had I said something wrong? "What, right away?" "Well, I'd talk to them first, but if they were bullying me then yes!" "And that wouldn't frighten you? Reporting them?" "No..." Should it? Is that wrong? It was only later I realised her surprise was... a pleasant one.
A few days later, I had an email from my NHS therapist. "I have just received your referall form to fill out. Take this as a very good sign." Indeed, the next day I had a letter of my own. "I am pleased to inform you that your initial physiciatric assessment has been successful, and we are currently moving forward to the medical and psychological evaluation stage of the process." Or something to that effect. I've been warned, it can be a terribly long time before my next interview. The next, being the final. Well, for hormone therapy anyway. But one stage at a time.
As for Chris - yes, I'm still in love. Very much so. We say it sober, now. We have a small supportive circle around us, with a few outsiders who think we're absolutely bonkers. "I'd rather have you than them, because if they're going to begrudge me my happiness, then they weren't my friends to begin with" he said, and I could have cried with joy. He's right, though.
And my parents trust him, despite having never met the boy - he's never sent me home sad, and that's more than can be said for many before him.
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