A little background information about myself: 25-year-old MtF, diagnosed bipolar at age 17 and diagnosed BPD at age 24. I've been to a mental hospital twice, both times seriously messed me up.

I've been going to DBT therapy for almost 2 years now, and I feel like I'm getting nowhere. My therapist keeps telling me that I'm doing better and encourages me to keep trying, but I feel like I'm just getting better at lying. I flip-flop between showing little emotion, followed by outbursts of shame, guilt, and sadness. I keep a mood diary which clearly shows that I cycle on a monthly basis. It has no correlation to my hormone shots (weekly), therapy schedule (daily), lunar phases (don't be silly), etc. 

I'm on wellbutrin and lamictal. I steal my parent's propranolol and it really fucking helps. I doubt anyone will write me a prescription for it. 

I don't get it. I try so hard to be a decent and positive person, and I'm publicly bubbly to compensate for being privately depressed. I really don't give a shit about anyone anymore. I'm tired all the time. I regularly drive 110 miles an hour on the freeway. I hate being transgender, I hate everything I have to go through in preparation for surgery, and I think about suicide daily. I'm one of the lucky souls: I pass so well I model, my parents love me, financially support me and my transition, and are paying for my surgery. 

Last week I had to listen to my mentor talk about how trans women are ugly, financially burdening society, shoving our agenda down peoples throats, taking the meaning out of pronouns, and how they're just confused gay men. If I say anything I'll lose the only job I have and love. I won't say anything, because at least he sees me as a woman. At least he feels comfortable and safe to tell me how shitty of a person he is behind closed doors. He clearly has no idea I'm transgender, but I can barely look him in the eye anymore.

And it's as if none of that matters. I feel like I don't get to complain about anything. People are so shitty to others, tell me to suck it up and find the silver lining.

I feel so fucking ugly, and wronged by nature. I've gone through so much fucking pain to get my pubic hair removed in order to have SRS. No doctor will write me a prescription for opiates. It's like getting slapped in the balls over and over and over again with a bug zapper on a rubber band. I've resorted to large doses of opiates just to take the edge off. My partner keeps the stash, gives me a dose every two weeks as to avoid addiction, and has to stay up all night and watch me just to make sure I don't vomit and asphyxiate in my sleep (spoiler I almost have multiple times).

After months of going through this, I went to see my doctor who will do my surgery. He told me I'm not even fucking close. It's such an ordeal to set up appointments, arrange for designated drivers, illegally obtain drugs, and still be in pain. It hurts to be told I'm not making tangible progress. I still have no surgery date. It's as if all of my planning, determination, and pain are meaningless. I feel like this process is slowly killing me, and it's leaving me feeling worthless, depressed, and like no one cares about me. 

I told my therapist that I don't want to die, but I really don't want to live anymore. My therapists don't understand. I feel as if I'm doing everything right and to the best of my abilities, but I'm going nowhere. Now I feel like I'm letting go, and not caring about anything. I feel so numb.

/rant