Last weekend, I spent my birthday with John and Leo in Switzerland, which was a surprise. We had a lot of walks, good food and serious talks about some things. Because in the past week, I went to see the other psychiatrist my therapist recommended and he said some things I found deeply disturbing. First of all, it was really hard for me to be open and answer him honestly. I didn’t like him and that made me nervous. He asked me about myself in general and he already knew about my PTSD and my “sort of” relationship. Well, I gave my OK to my therapist to tell him, but that felt gross anyway.
After two hours of examination he said that he wanted to see me more often to come to a conclusion, but he told me that wanting to have boobs and using my dick in “that” way (he referred to chastity and shrinkage) could be hints for two things: transsexualism (which I still deny because I really do not want to become a woman at all and I don’t have issues with being male) or simple PTSD-related stress-symptoms. Like hating who I am because of what my father did and trying to escape my body. Well. He told me in the first case he needed to see me very often to accompany my transition (yep, always helpful when those people listen closely, right?) and in the second case he’d recommend more talking therapy sessions with my therapist or even a stay in a psychiatric clinic to “help” me figure things out.
When I left him, I was done. I was glad W had accompanied me and brought me home. I cried my eyes out, feeling lost and misunderstood. I mean, of course I know I’m not sane and will always have mental issues. But allowing myself to be Ginny at certain times makes me feel so much better and comfortable. How useful is seeing such a therapist if he doesn’t listen? I told John I don’t want to see him again and for sure I don’t want a stay in a clinic, thanks!!! He just gave me the feeling I’m wortless and and idiot and that my relationship is dangerous and unhealthy for me.
How “unhealthy” John is for me was proven on the weekend. He knew I was feeling bad and gave me just what I needed: a shoulder to cling to, security, love and respect. He, Leo and I talked very much about PTSD, being sub/masochstic, our relationship and Ginny. When we returned on Tuesday, I could see much clearer.
I won’t see this therapist again. He didn’t do me good. I will continue my talking therapy with my old therapist (even though after about 20 years of therapy I’m quite fed up with all that stuff, I tell you). I’ll lead the relationship I want and embrace the fact that I’m submissive and masochistic, even if no one else in this world thinks that’s safe for someone like me. And I’ll continue to be Ginny and wish for small boobs.
To be honest, there’s one thing good about it. I think I have figured out that I don’t want to take hormones. I guess they could destabilise me and cause depression, and those small episodes are enough for me. I really don’t want to go back on antidepressants. My cock will shrink by being kept locked in for long periods of time. Castration is better as a fantasy 🙂 Just the boobs…I don’t know. I guess I’ll wait a while before I make a decision. For over a year I’m wanting boobs and if that urge is still there in one year or so, I might consider surgery. We’ll see.