Journal of Michael TG AR Pt.1

The Journal of Michael

September 5, 2009

This is the first journal I've ever written.  For all the years of therapy I've been through, I have never written a journal.  Now that I am past my all my years of depression and agony, feeling that I am the wrong person in the wrong body, living the wrong life, I finally feel like writing one.  The truth is that for all the emotions I've felt my entire life, I have never felt this afraid.  

Today was my first set of injections in my eight weeks of transition.  In eight weeks, I will be the woman I've always wanted to be.  And yet, I am frightened.  I have paid all my dues, paid for all my fees to the state agencies that regulate the change process, paid for the two DNA donors, paid the company that does the DNA formulation and administers the process, and I have paid my sponsor to live in her house for eight weeks while she feeds me, shelters me and guides me through the process.  I have put the rest of my money in a numbered account in the Caymans where only I can get to it, and I have moved into my new room here at my sponsor's house.  It is  a regular guest bedroom: Wood frame bed, tan carpet, white walls and a few prints on the walls.  I have closet space for the clothes I've purchased, but they are mostly sweatpants, t-shirts and sweatshorts in various sizes as I change.  Once we see where I end up, size and figure-wise, I'll get some real clothes.

That's the scary part: that it's still not an exact science.  Due to the restrictions placed by the government on identity theft, the DNA for my new identity had to come from two donors.  I knew that when I signed up, but it wasn't until this week when I sat down and read everything again that I got the gravity of that.  IdentitiCorp's process puts both sets of DNA into contact with my own, and it replaces my DNA.  But, in some cases, the body rejects a particular strand of DNA.  So, even though both of my donors have blue eyes, I could end up keeping my brown eyes.  Also, since the donors have such similarities to each other, there's no telling which trait I'll "inherit" from each donor.  I could have 75% from one, 23% from the other and keep 2% of my own.

How can they allow this legally when the results aren't 100% guaranteeable?  I know that the odds are no worse than any other major medical procedure if you think about it, but I'm going to spend the next eight weeks heading to uncertainty.  I know I'll be female and about 9 years younger than I am now, but everything else is up in the air.  I can only hope that I end up where I want to be and that my body doesn't fight.

Honestly, I had my 8am shots and get a second set at 2pm and at 8pm, and I feel weird.  Nothing has visibly happened, but I am tired.  Supposedly, one of the shots they give me creates this enzyme within the body that will break down the cells of bone and tissue my body discards in the process.  To go from 5'9" to possibly 5'3" or 5'2", and to drop a  potential 60 pounds or so, I'm going to have to lose a lot of mass.  The enzyme is supposed to break down those discarded cells to a the point where they can either be absorbed into the bloodstream or into the digestive system.  It amazes me that I will lose that much in two months, and my sponsor Tricia has assured me that I will feel all of it leaving my body one way or another.  Apparently, this is not going to be a necessarily pleasant process.

So far, I like Tricia.  She's kind and supportive without being nosy.  She went through the process a year ago, and I will be the third transitioned she's sponsored.  

I am also scared because I still don't know if this was the right choice.  Not knowing exactly what I'll look like, what genetic personality and mental traits and skills I'll be inheriting.   Both donors are smart girls, but both in different ways.  One is very bookish, quiet, talented in languages and literature while the other is outgoing, health-conscious and displayed a propensity for mathematics and legal studies.  I chose them for the similarity in appearance and high IQ's.  But now that I sit here about to become some combination of them and myself, I am beginning to realize that I should have focused more on their personalities than their looks.  Looks aren't guaranteed anyway, so I should have worried about who I would be on the inside.  Who will I be?  

I guess this is why, in New York State anyway, we have to go through year of weekly therapy after we finish the process.  I didn't understand at first, thinking that I wouldn't need a year of therapy adjusting to being female.  But now I understand that I will need to adjust being another person.  My brain can't run their bodies, so I have to have parts, or most, of their minds as well.  

Height: 69.25"
Weight: 170lbs


September 6, 2009

Well, yesterday was okay.  Tricia and I bonded after I wrote my other journal.  We told each other about our pasts and reasons for the transition, and she gave me some tips on what she had to get used to afterwards.  I admit that this quelled my fears a bit.

Tricia is a nurse, so she does all my injections and monitors my vitals througout the day.  The doctor from IdentitiCorp comes every two or three days to do a full physical and blood tests, and every five days Tricia takes me for MRI's.  That's going to be my life schedule for the next eight weeks.

Just before I started, I traded in the Honda Accord I got out of my divorce and bought a 3 year old white Honda Civic coupe.  It's sitting in Tricia's driveway, its title signed by me so I can transfer it over to my new name once I get a license, etc.  I look at it sometimes, hoping I'll still like it when I'm done with this process.  I figured as an 18 year old girl I will need a reliable car since I don't know how mechanically inclined I'll be.  I spent more than I should have, but it's loaded with leather, sunroof and has very low miles.  If it weren't for me getting half the proceeds from the sale of the house in the divorce settlement, there's no way I could have afforded the transition, the car and have enough money tucked away for me to start my new life with.

I was so lucky that Karen understood what I was going through. We were good friends who should never have married.  We split everything down the middle, sold the house, I let her have the majority of the furniture and she took the Explorer while I got the Accord.  She remained my friend for a while, but she met some other guy and moved off to Cali. It's been a year since I've heard from her.

I hate writing the journal, but they say I have to in order to reinforce my memories as my brain undergoes changes.  I'm supposed to tell myself my own story, lest I forget why I wanted to stop being Michael and start being Amanda.

So, Amanda, as your read back over this, remember how miserable and lost Michael always was in life.  Remember feeling out of sorts every day when you woke up, and everyday you had to "Go be a man".

Today I feel tired, and a bit of stomach pain.  Tricia said the first thing that would happen was that I would start to form ovaries, but not yet a uterus,  to help with estrogen production.  I think that's what I am feeling. There are no visible changes that I can tell.

Height: 69.25"
Weight: 169lbs


September 8, 2009

Okay, so I skipped a day.  After my journal on the 6th, Tricia and I cut and shaved ALL my hair off, because she said that a lot of it will fall out anyway when my body begins to form new hair follicles.  Very odd process, and not having eyebrows is weirding me out the most.  But, she said the new hair growth patterns start usually in the first 3-4 days as the skin changes usually begin then.  Both donors had fairly pale skin, and I am not very tan either, but I do see some coloring changes and my skin seems softer today.  That could be wishful thinking.

The doctor who came from IdentitiCorp today was the same one as on the 5th. His name is Troy, and I trust him.  He seems affadable, intelligent and honest with a great bedside manner.  My physical exam was good, but he did put me on some extra vitamins since I seem to be losing too many nutrients as my body purges mass.  And I am losing weight, and I am feeling it. I feel so soft, and loose, and... different... and the calmness is odd.

Height: 68.75"
Weight: 166.5lbs

September 9, 2009

I am mad this morning.  I need to write this down so that if the anger lingers over the next few weeks, I will remember as Amanda why I'm angry.  I don't want to be her, walking around angry, and not know why.

It's been 48 hours since I removed all my old hair, and my new hair is coming in.  The problem is that it's coming in a different color than it should.  And there is nothing I can do about it, and I signed a waiver acknowledging that this could happen.  When the FDA approved this process, it was on the premise that our new identities could not be from one DNA source.  So, IdentitiCorp was forced to create a system where the messenger RNA used in the injections delivers two sets of DNA to the target cells, and a command sequence in the RNA activates some long-buried evolutionary trigger sequence in the DNA and forces it to choose from one of the two DNA types offered.

But, this evolutionary trigger sequence, where our bodies evolve and choose which traits are best, is not controllable.  Sometimes, but rarely, it chooses to keep the original DNA and reject the two donor DNA choices.  Other times, it makes an even rarer choice and combines similar recessive traits of the original DNA and the donor DNA and out comes a recessive trait.

And that's what seems to be happening to me.  Both of my donors had dark, dark brown hair (or almost black), and I had just regular medium-dark brown hair.  My new hair is coming in a honey brown, and that's not what I wanted.  It's not blond, but I'm sure when it's exposed to light that it will lighten to a dark blond.  There were a few blonds in my family, and I guess in my donors' families, so I guess I get a mix of that and the original dark browns I chose.

Maybe it's not all that bad.  From what I can see of the hair, it's a very rich, honey, golden brown and maybe I'll like it.  It's just that this whole process is frightening enough without really knowing what's going to happen to me.  I'm losing height, I'm losing weight, I'm losing muscle mass and I feel so different today.  I mean, holy shit, there are ovaries forming inside me.  The concept of that is just blowing my mind, and I've gone from being mad to being scared in just a few paragraphs.  Except for my shaven hair, I look like myself.  At least, I think I do.  But when I look at my hands on the keyboard, they look like mine but not.  Maybe they're slightly smaller, maybe the skin is different, maybe my nails are a slightly different shape, I don't know.  

I don't know, I don't know, I don't know and it terrifies me.  I know this is what I wanted, I know it's bringing me somewhere I wanted to be.  I know this is right, but I am terrified of the unknown.

I wanted to go for a walk to calm my nerves, maybe leave the house and get some sun... but when I put my sneakers on, they felt a little big on my feet.  I just couldn't make myself put on two pairs of socks to compensate.

I'm going to have a womb, holy god, I'm going to have a womb.  It's going to happen, I can't believe it, I can't believe it.  There's a smile on my face now, and I just can't get over it.  Maybe hair color is nothing to be upset about considering that I dye it.  After all, to be in a body I feel I should have been in all along is worth a few dollars a week in hair dye.

Height: 68.5"
Weight: 165lbs


September 10, 2009

Wow, we just got back from my first set of scans since I began injections.  The doctor showed Tricia and I the differences that had begun in my bone structure, and I was amazed.  My tailbone and hips are starting to change shape, there are definitely forming ovaries showing and my skeleton in general is making shape changes, not just height changes.  I really don't see any external changes to my body structure, I don't think, but it's hard to tell.  

Tricia also told me about her first week of transition, and I felt better afterwards.  She told me that I might want to take pictures of myself every day with her digital camera, which I did when I got home.  I will compare them every day.

I came to terms with the fact that my hair color doesn't matter, nor does my eye color or anything like that.  I remember all my life feeling like I was disconnected from my body, and from my sexuality as a male, not feeling comfortable being male or acting male, or ever liking myself, but not knowing what I wanted or who I wanted to be.  It took me way too many years to realize what I wanted, why I felt wrong, and who I felt I should be.

And it's finally happening.

And I get to be nine years younger.
Thank God for that, because I want to live as much of life as I can, take back as much of what I lost as I can...

I think maybe, maybe breast development is beginning, maybe just a tiny bit, but it's hard to say with my skin, going through its changes, if there really is breast development or my nipples are just changing to match someone else's DNA.

Today everything feels different, everything.  The way I move, the way my voice sounds, the way my face looks in the mirror, the way everything else around me looks when I examine the world.  Nothing is the same, but nothing is bad. The pain has stopped where my ovaries are, and my stomach seems to have settled.  I would get nauseous here and there.

Facial hair as not come back, and everything else is growing in quickly.  Somehow the injections include something that stimulates hair growth, so I should have eyebrows and eyelashes back by some time next week.  Of course, having long hair on my head will take longer.  But at least a decent amount should grow in soon.

Suddenly, I am just sitting here blown away by how much has changed already, and how real this all suddenly is. My face is still very much mine, but I'm starting to lose grasp on who I am and whose face I should have.  I'm a little unsure now of who I am, but I am still male and legally still Michael.  I still look like Michael.  My brain is just... I don't know.  My nails are strange looking to me, and they are growing slightly, but they are changing as I perceive my hands and fingers to be changing ever so slightly.

Wow, okay, for some reason, the thought of imagining my hands to be smaller, and petite with longer nails just got me slightly aroused.  I haven't been aroused since I started the injections, and I assumed that it wasn't possible anymore.  But when I saw, in my imagination, smaller, petite hands with slightly grown out nails moving across this keyboard, I felt stirring between my legs. Wow.  This is right, this is right, this is right.

Height 68.35"
Weight: 164.5lbs