In the middle of a weird emotional-moment, normally kept to myself. But this one may look interesting on paper (or screen?) so I'll indulge, and try to keep it interesting! Looking back on my life - it feels so strange - it's almost like I never even knew Roger. Like a reader so immersed in a vivid story they fail to notice they are actually reading a book. This evening I caught a glimps of the page-edge. And yet the book is actually quite boring compared with most others'. Who am I?
I could start by saying I'm a 24-year-old graduate who's not yet found the computer job he's looking for, and has been working a few menial jobs until he discovers what it is he is supposed to be doing with his weird life.
I could try saying I had parents who always loved me or that I grew up in a small seaside-town in England. Or that - behind a curtain of smiles - I suceeded quite well at my studies. But when alone, "my thing" would take hold.
http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif Early Childhood http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif
I'm not sure where the self-harm started. It developed from something I did to my self when I was about 8 or 9 when I hurt myself with a toy, not badly - but enough to draw blood. How or why I ended up in that situation is still a mystery. I think it's probably best described as "experimenting". I often would telescope my penis, and - when a little older - would push my testicles into the canal. Though why, I'm not sure. I already knew by this point I was unable to use a urinal. I had emotional or 'girlish' traits that I'm sure didn't help me fit in with other boys. I always enjoyed poetry and writing to maths (though I was not terrible at this either). I would often please the teacher with some good story-writing. I avoided any boy-only sports because I just felt uncomfortable with the agression and violence it seemed to entail. After asking the teacher - I ended up playing netball with the girls.
http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif Teenage Years http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif
With time, "my thing" developed into a more concious desire to loose my testicles. I absolutely hated my sexual urges, and wasn't a big fan of shaving. I would often pray I could go to sleep and wake up with them gone. No pain, no suffering - the process of castration seemed so aweful.
At about the age of 11, I remember having a dream that my scrotum fell off - no blood or pain; this was not a nightmare. I was happy and I remember throwing it and it's contents away.
At 16 and 17 it had developed into a sort of compulsion. When I was going about my life I tried to be all smiles. I would have thoughts - ways I could be castrated in many different situations. And it became a secret ritual that would occur with no-one else around. Sometimes eroticised, sometimes not. I would try to find ways of removing my testicles, or pray that - somehow - it would work.
At 19 (1998), I tried drinking about 1 litre of vodka and soaking in ice with bands, and leaving them on as long as possible. I was praying that I could somehow pass out or fall asleep for many hours. This one case I was able to leave the bands on for a little over an hour, by which time there was almost no feeling. But even heavily intoxicated - I still failed - the pain in the abdomen was just too much.
I did other terrible things, hanging things, needles - the pretruding part of which was later burned with a lighter or injecting water. I tried piercing the chords that supplied the blood to the testicle. I did this several times, I hoped that by piercing/ripping it apart badly enough I might be able to castrate myself, but this really is impossible without a scalpel. And I'm a real girl when it comes to pain.
http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif Being Discovered http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif
Until one day, at this age being discovered after trying to cut my banded scrotum off with a knife. There was a lot of blood, but of course I failed, and was forced to a psychiatrist. I was not in the least bit interested in being talked out of castration - so far as I could tell there was nothing wrong with me. I was only here because I was forced to be. I had nowhere else to stay and this was part of the terms and conditions of me living with my parents.
After many months of pyschotherapy, I began to wonder if something was really wrong with me. But - the desire to loose my testicles was always there. I never really felt like one of the boys, and was always teased for being more softly-spoken, "placid" or "girlish" or whatever.
http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif Finally achieving castration (safely!) http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif
It wasn't until my grandma died in 2000, leaving a lump sum which finally left me with a (sensible) means of castration. At the end of 2001 I recieved my inheritence and by the start of 2002 had contacted Dr Kimmel to make arrangements. (and at last, joined EA as a full member!) (yey!)
This was the first visit of many to the US. I stayed at a hotel in Phildelphia where I met both Luvpain and Riverwind (who was castrated a few days before myself).
It was a good few days, and we certainly had a laugh. It's odd, because at the point Dr Kimmel was making the incision I didn't even look. I was vaguely aware of the sensations of the process - but my mind was somewhere else. I was not in the room. But that day was one of the happiest ones of my life.
After some time I had been castrated and felt fine (my head was still buzzing from the cocktail of Valium and muscle relaxant). We walked back to the hotel, and I remember sleeping for some time that first day.
http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif Post-Surgical Gender Identity Issues http://thefraj.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/button.gif
For many years after castration I struggled tremendously with the question What am I then?, becomming very introverted, and - eventually - depressed. In this period I did a number of stupid things. To help with this, I was on anti-depressants and took testosterone supplaments for a year or two, still unsure of what I was.
It wasn't until about September last year, I finally realized I was not happy being male or female. I was me. Whatever name you would choose. Somewhere in the middle, and suddely felt a great deal of calm and acceptance for what I was.
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Anyway, I hope this gives some insight into who I am and why I was castrated. I have no simple answer, but these days I realize I didn't strongly identify with being male, and "this thing" has been with me a long time. Such a very long time. But only really became noticable in puberty. And only better understood long after castration
Comment if you like - or don't comment, I don't mind. (it is fairly long and boring!) But I hope it might be okay to use this thread to post updates on my thoughts and feelings. Especially when I get like this - the floodgates open and I can't stop writing!