Parenting with major depression
Posted: April 17th, 2016, 10:00 am
I've been gone from the forum for a long time. I'm finally going through a divorce, and have had to go on public assistance to keep food on the table while I file for disability. I've been struggling to stay afloat as I've found half my specialists and therapists don't accept Medicaid and my ex got fired from his job at Pfizer who had great insurance benefits. But I'm not as upset about it except for the impact it has on my children.
You see, one of my teenagers is beginning his transition. No doctor in Michigan will prescribe testosterone to a 15 year old. He has a therapist who has written the "special letter" which deems him ready for this next step. I legally changed his name in September of last year, and have been going about changing every document, account, and even pictures to his new identity. Though, without decent insurance, I've still decided to take him to Lurie's Childrens Hospital in Illinois as they are experts in gender issues in children. Paying for this is becoming an uphill battle of "going without" and begging for child support. I'm willing to do anything to help his transition run more smoothly.
I know what it's like as a child to have my existence negated, my emotion needs neglected if not non-existent, and the despair knowing my parents would never understand me. I can only imagine the inner turmoil of figuring out your gender too late to halt puberty, to have to look at breasts you don't want--that look like a growth which can't be removed legally until age 18. I can't even begin to know how physically painful having size D breasts which can't be bound flat without serious bodily disfigurement and pain. But what I do know is the severe chronic depression and its dull gray tint, visceral ache, and thick sludge he has to wade through day after day, hour after hour. I hate knowing he's hurt by the adults around him who don't understand, that one high school teacher that knows he legally must use correct pronouns, but conveniently forgets to do so every day, and that couple of students who decided to call him a "tranny". I want to change their collective brains to cause them to feel like their body doesn't match what they know to be true--to make the mirror be their worst enemy.
In all this, I'm thankful his father finally is showing the support he needs despite the betrayal and the years of pretending this is a phase. I'm thankful he has a sister who will do anything to make sure she educates those around her about transgender issues. To use her outgoing empathetic and kind spirit to take a transgender 7th grade female under her wing to assure that girl knows what acceptance is like from her peers. I'm thankful I have the strength and energy today to be the mom my mother never was. And today...that's enough.
You see, one of my teenagers is beginning his transition. No doctor in Michigan will prescribe testosterone to a 15 year old. He has a therapist who has written the "special letter" which deems him ready for this next step. I legally changed his name in September of last year, and have been going about changing every document, account, and even pictures to his new identity. Though, without decent insurance, I've still decided to take him to Lurie's Childrens Hospital in Illinois as they are experts in gender issues in children. Paying for this is becoming an uphill battle of "going without" and begging for child support. I'm willing to do anything to help his transition run more smoothly.
I know what it's like as a child to have my existence negated, my emotion needs neglected if not non-existent, and the despair knowing my parents would never understand me. I can only imagine the inner turmoil of figuring out your gender too late to halt puberty, to have to look at breasts you don't want--that look like a growth which can't be removed legally until age 18. I can't even begin to know how physically painful having size D breasts which can't be bound flat without serious bodily disfigurement and pain. But what I do know is the severe chronic depression and its dull gray tint, visceral ache, and thick sludge he has to wade through day after day, hour after hour. I hate knowing he's hurt by the adults around him who don't understand, that one high school teacher that knows he legally must use correct pronouns, but conveniently forgets to do so every day, and that couple of students who decided to call him a "tranny". I want to change their collective brains to cause them to feel like their body doesn't match what they know to be true--to make the mirror be their worst enemy.
In all this, I'm thankful his father finally is showing the support he needs despite the betrayal and the years of pretending this is a phase. I'm thankful he has a sister who will do anything to make sure she educates those around her about transgender issues. To use her outgoing empathetic and kind spirit to take a transgender 7th grade female under her wing to assure that girl knows what acceptance is like from her peers. I'm thankful I have the strength and energy today to be the mom my mother never was. And today...that's enough.