What if I Said I had a Birth Defect…

Would you believe me if I told you I was born with a birth defect? That despite the fact that I am a man, my genitals are deformed and look nothing like a penis, and that I also outwardly appear to be a woman because of this birth defect. Would I be more believable if I explained that I was born with a defect that made me look like a woman in every way, but in fact I was a man?
Would it make sense? Would there be less hate if transgenderism was considered a birth defect and not a mental illness?
Biological differences between men’s brains and women’s brains have been found, and during studies regarding the differences, transgendered people were found to biologically have brains like that of their desired sex instead of their biological sex. In a way, transgenderism is more of a physical disorder rather than a mental disorder (although gender dysphoria in itself can become such a problem that it can be considered part of a mental illness). If transgendersim were regarded this way as oppose to a matter of identity or sexuality, would it be taken more seriously instead of being rejected by majority of people as either a bizarre choice or an outright abomination?

Such are the things I wonder when I catch sight of myself in the shower.

The Most Likable Person on Earth

No matter who you are, no matter how hard you try to make those around you happy, there will always be someone who hates your guts with the very pit of their soul. Despite how stupid they sound to everyone else who has met you, they will insist on despising everything about you.

People like this play on one of my greatest fears: people speaking negatively about me or disliking me.

Years ago I was diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder. Granted, I am easily overwhelmed by lots of chaotic noises and quickly develop panic attacks if I’m in a crowd inside an enclosed space but I always figured that was more like a very specific type of claustrophobia. When the psychologist told me I had social anxiety, I went and looked it up to see if this was correct. The diagnostic criteria includes a fear of social situations in which embarrassment, rejection, or judgement are possible. That sounded kinda odd considering not only did I enjoy competitive speech(which is a sport where the very concept is having you abilities to speak in front of a group be JUDGED), I find myself rarely being embarrassed, and I do not fear rejection. I shrugged off these facts and figured that the doctor must know something that I didn’t.

Weeks ago, there was a minor situation in which my feelings were hurt by being kinda ditched by a few friends of mine. I posted a somewhat cryptic Facebook status in which I said something along the lines of, “It’s sad to find out your friends aren’t as good as you thought” and explained to people commenting that I felt that despite how much I go out of my way to be kind and giving to my friends, they never return the kindness to me. The people who hurt my feelings knew that they had made me sad and knew that they inspired the Facebook status and were immediately very angry with me for having posted it. While I was being chewed out, I experienced a hysterical panic attack. I was completely and utterly terrified that these people were bitching about me, talking about how stupid and annoying I was, and it drove me to begging for forgiveness (you know, for posting a status that in no way implied what my friends did or even who I was talking about) and serious contemplation to commit self harm. I hadn’t experienced a panic attack of that magnitude in probably a few years.

That event made me realize something, the diagnosis was actually correct. I have a crippling fear of people finding and complaining about my flaws. I spent years training myself to become a social chameleon so everyone would like me. Now for clarification, I never faked any traits to get people liking me, I just picked and chose what parts of me to show in order to be most agreeable with the company I am keeping.

So my terrible fear of people finding reasons to dislike me has, in a way, turned me into the most agreeable, likable person on Earth. Finding people who dislike me is very confusing and distressing for me considering how much work I put into not giving anyone a reason to dislike me. I’m also feeling a lot of confusion about whether or not this anxiety is a gift or a curse. Any sort of negativity directed at me on a personal level makes me completely panic, but it really does work in turning me into a more likable person. I just tend to be something of a passive-aggressive doormat because I can never tell people “no” and I am unable to confront people with issues they are causing, both of which lower any feelings I have of self-worth.

So. Question time. Do you have any oddly specific anxieties? Would you consider my fear of being disliked socially beneficial, or does it hurt me more than it helps? Is it a bad thing to seek out being liked by everyone you meet?

…And now I’m reminded why I hate anti-depressants.

As I mentioned in my introductory post, I’ve got a mental illness or too. My post prominent illnesses are my Clinical Depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder, both diagnosed in 2008 by a few different doctors. Anyway, I’ve never been a huge fan of taking pills to help my own problems, but when they get severe enough or crippling enough, they work as an effective crutch.

Since originally being diagnosed, my illnesses have improved significantly. I use to have numerous panic attacks every single day, I engaged in various forms of self harm, and I was very suicidal. That’s in the past, so no worries now. But even though I have gotten better, I’m still sick.

I also do a bad job at taking pills prescribed to me like I’m suppose to, but I chalk that up to not being able to handle the side-effects as well as I can handle being sad all the time. And when I get pass all the side effects, I get uncomfortable with not being sad. I mean, I’ve had clinical depression for most of my life. When you are so incredibly use to something, even if that something is bad, it just doesn’t feel right to go without it. So if I don’t stop taking meds because of unbearable side-effects, I stop because they are working too well.

Anyway: I’ve been without meds for about four or five months, but always keep what I don’t take in case I feel that I need them again (note: if a doctor thinks you should take your pills, listen to them. No matter how much research into medicine that you do, no matter how right you think you are, doctors spent years studying the crap you are questioning. It’s stupid to stop taking pills without doctor’s permission, ESPECIALLY if you are taking them for mental illnesses). I’ve been getting pretty bad anxiety attacks with virtually no triggers at all. I could be sitting in bed reading and suddenly it feels like my heart is being squeezed and there isn’t enough oxygen in the air, combined with the feeling that I have to do a speech on astrophysics in front of a hundred people. It’s stupid, annoying, and when it happens I end up locking myself in the bedroom and stay there for hours. Yeah, it gets to be a problem when you can’t socially function because you randomly become fucking terrified of everything. I remembered that I had my spare anti-depressants in the house. One bottle of Prozac locked up so nobody mistook them for narcotics and stole them, and a nearly empty bottle of Zoloft hiding in a box of tampons. I learned the hard way that you should really listen to the instructions that come with fireproof safes and NOT put medications in there, because I lost my key. So I just took a Zoloft.

The problem? The reason I stopped taking Zoloft was the side-effects. I’m currently having difficulties typing because of how shaky I am, and earlier I could have punched a hole in the wall because of my frustrating yawns. Yes, yawning is an uncommon side-effect of certain anti-depressants, and it is annoying. Thankfully the stomach ache and nausea were easy enough to deal with and passed quickly enough.

As much as I hate taking pills and as much as I hate side-effects, my anxiety (both generalized and social) are starting to impair my ability to socialize normally and find a job. I just have to pull up my big boy pants and deal with the stupid stuff that comes with medications.