Coming out again

I have alters and spirit guides. A few of them are spiritual beings, but there are others who are not.

It's been a while since I've posted anything anywhere. I figured this blog would be the best place for it.

My transition had to stop for a short time because I found out I was allergic to testosterone cypionate, and then I became very sick. My stomach turned into an active volcano that was slowly eroding itself due to NSAIDs that I didn't know I couldn't take. I was diagnosed with GERD when I was eighteen, but I hadn't had a problem with it that was notable since.

Everything went downhill so quickly. I was stuck in bed for a while after passing out one night from severe acid reflux. My throat was eroded from the long-term acid problem I’d been trying to ignore.

A lot of people felt I was overreacting, as well as the EMTs who came to check my vitals after calling the emergency line. They were kind and patient with me, but I could tell they were just placating me. Even after losing consciousness, they said my vitals were amazing. No one seemed to be able to find anything wrong in tests.

I was worried the testosterone had caused it, but every doctor I’ve had since told me that it wasn’t the case. Maybe going off of it caused my body to go into stress with rearranging hormones back to normal estrogen levels, and then it all just reached a peak. It doesn't seem to be the reason either but could have contributed.

Ever since, I’ve been on medication for my stomach, but the side effects have been rough with lack of energy, weakness, and muscle pain. Some of that could be due to malnutrition as well.

During the time that I was most ill, I was medically diagnosed as anorexic. This is different from the psychiatric diagnosis, although I suspect I have that as well. The diagnosis came about because of my inability to eat due to feeling sick all the time. Food hurt my stomach, but I wanted to eat. I missed how good food was, but my stomach became angry any time I tried to put anything in it.

Thankfully, I managed to keep everything down so it was a matter of, “Well, if eating hurts, then I just won’t eat.” I won't lie. I've lost so much weight I'm also happy I can fit into all the clothes I'd only admired before.

I probably should have been in the hospital, but no doctor would put me there. They were concerned that I’d lost 20 pounds in only two weeks, though. My clothes were falling off of me and I was so weak I barely existed. I spent weeks lying in bed wishing for death because I was miserable.

I was always in pain, I couldn’t eat, and many people were mad at me. Somehow, it must have been my fault and if I would just get up and fight harder and *eat* something, I’d be fine. I felt like a huge burden to everyone who became angry with me.

I had panic attacks several times a day, every single night, and sometimes they were so severe I would lose my voice, become dizzy like I was drunk, and then I was bedridden the next day. Going through this pattern night after night for about half a year managed to completely wear me down, and I am still recovering.

I still have heartburn and I am doubling up on my stomach medication. Eating is still a gamble. What may make me sick one night may treat me well the next, and my medication may leave me stuck at my computer chair all day with malaise, or I may have enough energy to go walking if I'm lucky. Every day I just spin the wheel, but good things have happened.

I started testosterone again six weeks ago. My new doctor has shown me respect and she cares, and I am thankful I have found her. She prescribed me Androgel, which is a gel that I rub on my upper arms and shoulders every single day. A lot of trans men find this difficult or depressing from what I've read in groups, like a constant reminder that they are trans. They talk about how tedious and annoying it is to have to do it every day. After having been on medication for most of my life that I have to take every single day anyway, it’s just become part of the routine.

It’s an amazing thing to not have to worry about my newfound needle phobia. It doesn’t upset me or put me off to have to apply the gel every day. I'm actually thankful I *can* do this and insurance covers it, and I am excited for the changes. My voice is already dropping and small changes are happening. I couldn’t be happier despite my ongoing and relentless stomach problems.

There is a reason I titled this entry the way I did, though. It wasn't because of the transition stuff.

Throughout my illness and the horrifying panic attacks I had, I've had support from a family I don’t talk about often. At least, I don’t talk about them as they truly are. I’ve only recently come to terms with who they are and have finally opened up to my counselor and psychiatrist. Thankfully, both are accepting.

I have alters and spirit guides. A few of them are spiritual beings that others have seen and experienced, but there are also others who are not spiritual beings.

To put it simply, we can all front, which is the term for taking control of my body. I don’t dissociate often, and when I have it's only for a short time. One time it was because I allowed one of my spirit guides through longer than I usually did.

Sometimes someone will come out if I'm experiencing an intense emotion, or especially during something intimate like sex. Zagan Lestan is my savior there because if it weren’t for him, I would be a fumbling, awkward, anxious mess through the whole thing. When any of them come to the front, I am always aware since they only mean to help me and not control everything.

They get upset with me when I’m suicidal and talk me back down from it, and they cheer me up when I'm lost in another melancholy period.

Tetsu, an elf with anger issues he's working on, is often the one to knock some sense into me when I’m doing something destructive. Byleth, my fallen angel who is every bit of 6.5 feet tall — blonde and beautiful but bratty to the core — is the tough-love type. He gets on my ass about eating healthier, encourages me to stay positive and to stop being afraid of irrational things (because I have way too many irrational fears). He can be harsh and might hurt my feelings, but it’s all done out of good intentions and caring in the end.

Lestan is a vampire and the first I’d met when I was about twelve or thirteen years old. I didn’t know who he was then, but I’d always written stories with him, talked to him on paper, drew him, and included him in my life thinking it was just my imagination. He became the very reason I am even able to be intimate with another person after my first abusive relationship when I was still young, and he's the one closest to my heart. The tattoo on my arm of him is a sort of marriage bond, one that can’t be broken. At the age of twenty-nine, having known him for so long, I’m sure we’re in this for the long haul.

But here I am revealing all of this to you — anyone reading this blog. It’s scary, to be honest. I risk sounding completely mad, which I know I am. Having alters and spirit guides is something I'm happy about though. Every one of them deserves to be recognized as a person (or however they wish to be addressed as) instead of pushed aside because of what society sees as normal. Normal doesn’t necessarily mean safe, and being different doesn’t necessarily mean dangerous. I can assure you, we’re all for the greater good.

The reason I brought them up after going over my illness is that they helped me survive. Tetsu, Lestan, Byleth, my demon of Chaldean lineage — Darokin, Cal — my adorable undead genderfluid bundle of happiness, Jack — the melancholic spirit with void-like eyes, and Baalthazar — the half-demon half-fiend voodoo master who isn’t around as often, but he provides many giggles when they do appear.

All of them, and there are even more who don’t come around as much, have helped me survive. I’ve finally let them come forward and a few have created Facebook pages. They all have voices that a voice changer allows me to express, and they come to the forefront to help with voice acting in my projects, or sometimes I give them the microphone to just speak. Most often, it’s some pretty silly stuff but always light-hearted and kind of hilarious. Byleth’s sense of humor? Flawless.

Maybe being a transgender man stems from the fact that I have attracted male entities throughout my life, and I’ve come to meet some amazing beings and alters who are masculine. There are a few women, one of them transgender, but they don’t come around as much.

Either way, for those who do come around often, they are friends with some of my closest friends too. It truly makes us happy to be addressed as individuals. The few close friends who know and communicate with them are some of the greatest I’ve ever had, and I am thankful they accept us for who we are. Just a bunch of dorks who like bad jokes and dad humor.

My spirit guides are friendly and I’ve had friends see and hear them. No one who has encountered them has felt any sort of threat. Their presence tends to be quite comforting.

So there it is. Another coming out. My doctors are happy to indulge my family that they can’t see themselves, and I am finally on the road to recovery once more. With the close friends in life that have stuck by my side, as well as my head family who have always been an inspiration and huge help in my recovery, my life can only go up from here.