My injection supplies came in last night (after I reordered them because the original order was apparently delayed until the 11th!?), so… happy about that. Not so happy that I had to come back to the dorm right after they got delivered because I had classes today, so now I have to wait until Friday to do my first shot because I’m not doing that in my dorm room that I share with a cis guy (fuck my life).
A couple months ago, I thought I could put off getting on HRT until my second year at college because the logistics of doing injections while living in a dorm scared me (as well as actually doing them), but when I got here, the pain and loneliness of this transitional period in my life started to weigh on me like a boulder. Thankfully, I am able to go home each weekend, so I’ll have my private time to do my injections, but starting HRT only makes me worry about my future more.
If I stayed a repper, at least I knew that I’d live out the rest of my life in existential misery, but starting my transition in any way makes me really worried about whether I can become the person I want to be. It doesn’t help that I’m addicted to doomscrolling Twitter, and every post on my feed is either doomerism, girls who pass, or some other part of trans discourse that also makes me want to kill myself. Everything I see now only points me towards a future where I don’t see myself as a woman, and I’m scared. I’m scared of all of the legislation. I’m scared of every aspect of being trans, but I’m hopeful that one day I’ll find that joy in being myself. Because then the pain will be worth it. The pain of staying a man will never be worth it; I’m just terrified that I won’t be strong enough to see the other side.
Okay, journal factory reopened: no more venting.