Scacie
She/Her
- Feb 24, 2023
- 238
I got everything I need. Finally. From SN to AE to sedatives. I have everything, everything I need to leave this cruel world peacefully. I'm not sure of the purpose of this post, but I guess I just want to shout it from the rooftops. I win. Finally. Despite everything this cruel country and world thrown at me, I still managed to get everything. I can finally get to declare victory, because if everything goes well, I'll be able to leave soon.
I hope I can leave on April 10th, but the date seems unlikely. I have things to do, still. So many unanswered questions, technical ones that I need answers to for when I CTB. I can't procrastinate on my letter anymore. I want to switch from pills to injections before I leave. Sadly there's no ETA on the shipment. I need to find a good hotel room, and a good excuse to leave on that day. One with a bathtub, so I can take a nice long bath on the day itself. Probably sip the wine I bought, maybe even buy some nice cheese to eat. I always shaved my body with such haste, this time I think i'll do it gently. One last moment of 'self-care'. Even though I hate everything about this body and face, I'm still going to try to treat it with kindness on my last day occupying it, our 'partnership' over.
Even though I gave up, this shitty life still tries to throw everything at me. Had to endure transphobia tirades and endure with threats to call the police. Had to beg and lie to get my SN back when it got found. Was feeling at peace before that happened, but now it introduced more uncertainity to my last days. But its going to be over soon, finally, after so long.
I guess this is as good a place as any to dump my regrets. There are so many things I want to do, things that I can never do now. I dream of becoming a caring mother, never passing down any of the abuse give to me.
Even with all my mental illnesses, I still thrived in the disgusting rat race that is Singaporean society. I did good in my exams, and will have a place in a good university, studying the course I love. None of this will happen, but its a dream that so many will kill for. I dream of going to grad school, becoming a clinical psychologist. To helping children like myself, who never got the assistance I need. And yet this will probably never happen.
Despite all the regrets hardships, I still got HRT at 19. Too old to experience the teenage years, but there's still a future out there. I had good progress on it too, experiencing growth in all the right areas quickly. Maybe too quickly. I even saw hip growth, an luxury feel can afford. And yet, ironically, this is my downfall. When I first experienced chest growth, I strongly debated on taking drugs to temporary supress it. I never did, because I made a vow to myself. The moment I finally began on this long due journey, I'll never look back. I'll never hide this part of me. I knew exactly what I was getting into; Either a new future, or I'll need to CTB. And yet, even with all these, I see a reflection that isn't mine when I look into the mirror. I try desperately to make out even a single identifiable feature, but I can never. But perhaps its a curse too, because it got people suspicous, and my meds were found. But at least it finally crushed the fantasy of a future, any future, once and for all. I know what I must do now, but I can't help but imagine a world where the parents are even slightly supportive. Maybe one day I would get support for the surgeres I need, be even slightly supported. But I should have known better. Why would abusive parents that never admits wrongdoing ever even be slightly supportive? A part of me hope that this illusion was disproven earlier. Then I wouldn't cling on to faux hope for so long, prolonging my suffering for so long.
I wonder what will happen if I started HRT earlier. I opened a bank account at 16 for just this reason, and yet I'm a coward. Like everything else, I dragged my feet, never buying any until 3 years later.
I got it out, I think. A lifetime of regrets, external factors and decisions alike brought me here. When I visited a hospital for a checkup yesterday, I saw so many sick patients. Children with cancer, broken limbs, disabilities. I hoped I can somehow transfer my life to them, at least it won't be wasted.
But I know my decision, the writing's on the wall. In a few months at most, the changes in my body will be unhidable. And with the 'parents' I have...it will be over then too. I'm going to get out while I still can, hopefully everything goes well, and my plans work. Maybe if I'm lucky, I won't be thrown anymore curveballs, and would perhaps spend my last 2 weeks at peace.
But I'm scared still, scared of everything that can go wrong. If only I can black out until I'm in my hotel room, only then I would be feeling completely at ease
I hope I can leave on April 10th, but the date seems unlikely. I have things to do, still. So many unanswered questions, technical ones that I need answers to for when I CTB. I can't procrastinate on my letter anymore. I want to switch from pills to injections before I leave. Sadly there's no ETA on the shipment. I need to find a good hotel room, and a good excuse to leave on that day. One with a bathtub, so I can take a nice long bath on the day itself. Probably sip the wine I bought, maybe even buy some nice cheese to eat. I always shaved my body with such haste, this time I think i'll do it gently. One last moment of 'self-care'. Even though I hate everything about this body and face, I'm still going to try to treat it with kindness on my last day occupying it, our 'partnership' over.
Even though I gave up, this shitty life still tries to throw everything at me. Had to endure transphobia tirades and endure with threats to call the police. Had to beg and lie to get my SN back when it got found. Was feeling at peace before that happened, but now it introduced more uncertainity to my last days. But its going to be over soon, finally, after so long.
I guess this is as good a place as any to dump my regrets. There are so many things I want to do, things that I can never do now. I dream of becoming a caring mother, never passing down any of the abuse give to me.
Even with all my mental illnesses, I still thrived in the disgusting rat race that is Singaporean society. I did good in my exams, and will have a place in a good university, studying the course I love. None of this will happen, but its a dream that so many will kill for. I dream of going to grad school, becoming a clinical psychologist. To helping children like myself, who never got the assistance I need. And yet this will probably never happen.
Despite all the regrets hardships, I still got HRT at 19. Too old to experience the teenage years, but there's still a future out there. I had good progress on it too, experiencing growth in all the right areas quickly. Maybe too quickly. I even saw hip growth, an luxury feel can afford. And yet, ironically, this is my downfall. When I first experienced chest growth, I strongly debated on taking drugs to temporary supress it. I never did, because I made a vow to myself. The moment I finally began on this long due journey, I'll never look back. I'll never hide this part of me. I knew exactly what I was getting into; Either a new future, or I'll need to CTB. And yet, even with all these, I see a reflection that isn't mine when I look into the mirror. I try desperately to make out even a single identifiable feature, but I can never. But perhaps its a curse too, because it got people suspicous, and my meds were found. But at least it finally crushed the fantasy of a future, any future, once and for all. I know what I must do now, but I can't help but imagine a world where the parents are even slightly supportive. Maybe one day I would get support for the surgeres I need, be even slightly supported. But I should have known better. Why would abusive parents that never admits wrongdoing ever even be slightly supportive? A part of me hope that this illusion was disproven earlier. Then I wouldn't cling on to faux hope for so long, prolonging my suffering for so long.
I wonder what will happen if I started HRT earlier. I opened a bank account at 16 for just this reason, and yet I'm a coward. Like everything else, I dragged my feet, never buying any until 3 years later.
I got it out, I think. A lifetime of regrets, external factors and decisions alike brought me here. When I visited a hospital for a checkup yesterday, I saw so many sick patients. Children with cancer, broken limbs, disabilities. I hoped I can somehow transfer my life to them, at least it won't be wasted.
But I know my decision, the writing's on the wall. In a few months at most, the changes in my body will be unhidable. And with the 'parents' I have...it will be over then too. I'm going to get out while I still can, hopefully everything goes well, and my plans work. Maybe if I'm lucky, I won't be thrown anymore curveballs, and would perhaps spend my last 2 weeks at peace.
But I'm scared still, scared of everything that can go wrong. If only I can black out until I'm in my hotel room, only then I would be feeling completely at ease
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