And basically...my hands are still trembling from a panic attack I had. This was the strongest feeling of dysphoria I've ever felt, ever. I'm having trouble breathing properly. The trigger was innocent enough a situation. Normal for work...but not for a transwoman like me, who has intense feelings of being unsafe.
I'm almost crying. I'm not okay. I'm really not okay. It's to the point where I couldn't even write my legal name, even though there was a document I needed to do so on. (I got around that by, in supper-small, extra-light lettering, writing the 'na' extra, so it's invisible on the document but satisfies my need--absolute NEED--to hear, to write, my true name.)
I'll probably need to make a follow-through blog post after this one if I recover, to let you know you don't have to worry. But that's a rather large 'if'. I'm rattled right now. Upset. This...is just something ready to explode out of me.
I am Bree. I need to hear that. A LOT. More than ever before.