TL:DR; Today was a crap day for me. At least emotionally. I remembered how I used to deal with stuff like this and it still works.
Let's look at how feelings are treated online; There's always some balking about some LGBT eCeleb getting "triggered" and the whole internet has a big laugh at the oversensitive crybaby. Sadly this minimalizes when something actually bothers one of us on a personal level. We don't want to be "That Person". So when some stuff that went down today took me to a darker place I tried to clam up and just roll with the punches. So we bottle it up. Pre HRT, pre-transition, this was just how it was done. You go into a numb state and pretend it doesn't bother you. That carries onto the online world. It's BS but that's the state of things on the General Admission internet. Don't like it? Don't go on the internet. Right? Problem is the world wide web has become a utility. You can no more 'not go on the internet' as you can 'survive without water'. We need it for work, for entertainment and sometimes out mental well being as it become the only way some of us find time to socialize.
So let's run at the issue head long by ignoring it completely and talking about something else. Recently, I felt pretty damn good. I've malefailed publicly and while that worries me when I get clocked while in boymode it also encourages me. So let's segue into the problem. I had a few set backs happen within a short time of one another that threw me right out of any joy I was still running on. Someone I've repeatedly explained my basic pre-existing medical issues to and is a sub-contextual, passive-aggressive, asshole made me snap as I had to explain AGAIN that my cough had nothing to do with COVID-19 and everything to do with allergies. This is always a drain because this particular jerk loves to see people riled up and had a shit eating grin plastered on his face the whole time. So that wipes out a good chunk of my 'tolerating society' battery. It's the end of the day so no biggie right?
Then I make the mistake of trying to socialize online to recharge a bit and wind down. Well, a family member messages me and reminds me HRT or no I'm still a dude in their eyes. I swallow the fire. I know they mean well but if there was a time I didn't need that information it would be now. My battery drains. I entertain them for a bit longer but find an excuse to leave the convo. What little reserve I have for dealing with people is leaking into a puddle of acid and is eating at one of my emotional pylons. I can't proceed without repairing this one or constructing additional ones. But I've no resources. So I go to get some from another social media site.
Now, I like to spread positivity. If I can make other feel good the I feel better. I just need enough good vibes to reinforce some personal weaknesses and repair some damage. Damage taken internally. No one cause it directly. I was a result of how I reacted and I reacted according to how I perceived the situation. It's a flaw from within so it is my responsibility to fix it. But then I'm positive to the wrong person at the wrong time. A friend recently came out as lesbian and while we've been pretty chill the second I reached out to be a positive influence I get the harsh reminder that THEY don't see me as anything but a dude as well. So by this point the battery has exploded. All cells have failed. The acidic pool is now eating away at every surface it touches and I'm in some considerable emotional pain.
Pre HRT I'd have dealt with this differently. "No", I say to myself, I'm supposed to do it differently now right? I can't rely on the old coping mechanism because those were the tools that kept me in the closet. So I'm struggling to find a way to cope. I'm still in one piece but this stack of failures is eating at me in ways I never dreamed possible. Then it hits me. When I was in my darkest places I'd seek out comedy. This seems like a guy thing to do. But then again so would any other distraction. Working on a car. Playing a video game. Anything I did pre HRT to cope I had barred myself from doing because 'that was the old me'. Thing is: New me wouldn't exist without the foundations built by OLD me. I had created a conflict where none existed and now I was suffering for a lack of ways to cope. I had gated them all off.
I'm not some contagion risk. I am nothing like a dude to the point where people publicly clock me as femme while hiding behind the masc. Why do I feel this Impostor Syndrome?? Why do I feel like a health risk to other and a ball of leaking dysphoria? Well... it's me. It's a me problem. Yes one person was intentionally being a jerk but I know this person well enough that I should not have taken the bait. Yet here I am. Trying to find a graceful, ladylike way of coping because I couldn't use older methods that worked as I (just me) had labeled them as no longer suitable for the "new" me. The person who I was is exactly the same as I am now save for some extra free estrogen and reduced testosterone. That's it. So why am I torturing myself? To prove something? To grow as a woman? No. It's all psychobabble fluff.
When a tool works to fulfill a specific function you don't throw it away because you're working on a modified piece of equipment. A serving spoon still serves. A screw driver still drives. A phone still makes calls. It doesn't care if the hand using it has nail polish on or not. So what do I do? I look up some god damned comedy specials on YT. Lo and BEHOLD! Christopher Titus. This great guy has decided to release several of his specials for free because of the pandemic. I set one up to play. Hop on the bed with the volume up. I allow time to pass as (emotionally) the acid is hosed off, repairs made, and a social battery replaced. All while this delightful epic failure in a denim button up tells his audience about how he made cringe all over the The Boss and the E-Street Band.
Who you are now does not exist without who you were. Everything you learned by flashlight in a dark closet for how-ever long you were in there doesn't fail to be effective or valid the second you leave the closet. You need to bring those tools with you. They helped you cope then when things were really bad. They'll easily get you though whatever is eating at you now. You know them by heart. You know what they sounded like. Their effectiveness. Even when two mechanisms are similar you know from experience which one does the better job in specific situations. Use those tools. Because the guitar, the keyboard and the sewing kit all work exactly how they did. With or without the nail polish.
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