[atomiczombie]

I grew up with an older brother who verbally, emotionally and physically abused me all though my childhood years. He beat me, humiliated me in front of other kids, called me stupid, fat, ugly, a bitch, and lots of other nasty things. I was his whipping post, a nuisance, a source of irritation, and someone to wipe his dirty feet on. My feelings didn't exist for him. All that existed for him was the delight and laughter he got from abusing me.

When I was seven, he pinned me down to the floor by sitting on my chest with his knees. I could hardly breathe and he thought it was funny and laughed. Sometimes he would pin me down and tickle me to the point of utter torture.

As we grew older, the violence became more amplified. I started to fight back. I never won any of the fights, of course. He is four years older than me and way bigger and stronger. I remember one time he had me on the floor in the kitchen and he was kicking me. I grabbed a knife from the knife block in the kitchen for self defense. He wrestled it away from me, then proceeded to try to plunge it into my face. I grabbed his wrist and pushed with every ounce of strength in my body to stop him. I remember thinking at that moment, 'maybe it would be easier if I just let go and let him do it'.

I was suicidal and hated myself throughout my childhood. My parents didn't understand what he was doing to me and downplayed it as just kids bickering. I felt abandoned by them and like nobody loved me. I was suicidal and depressed. I turned to drugs and alcohol to numb the pain.

At 15, I went to drug rehab and the violence between my brother and I stopped. He just decided to stop the beatings for some reason. I was depressed for years after that. Part if that was my gender issue, and part was my family history. At age 25 I went into counseling. By my late 20's I started to see that I was abused, and it wasn't my fault. That changed me greatly, like a huge burden was lifted. I came out as gay, another burden lifted. I was doing a lot better.

Then I got involved with my ex-wife. She was sweet at first but once we moved in together, she changed. She started to criticize me. She hated my being butch, my weight, my job and questioned my intelligence. She told me I was fat and ugly. I felt all the pangs of pain and being silenced that I did as a kid. It took me years to finally stand up for myself and end it. I went back into counseling and got a lot stronger in myself and developed more self-regard.

On December 1, 2007, in the middle of the night, a fire broke out in my apartment. I barely got an armful of clothes, my cell phone and computer and got out alive. Had I not been awake while still in bed, reading, I would not have gotten out. The fire spread and engulfed my apartment inside of 5 minutes. I knocked on my neighbors door and got them out. It was 30 degrees outside, and I was in my pajamas. I put my shoes, socks and hooded sweater on in the driveway, and called 911 about 2 minutes after I was out of the house. The firefighters came about 6 minutes later, and the house was engulfed. I was panicked. I was stunned. I was in shock. My mood kept shifting from terror, to panic, then to shock and numbness. I stood out there in the cold for three hours while the firefighters put out the fire and cleared out my apartment. At about 5 a.m. I drove out to my parents house in Rio Vista, an hour or so away.

The next day my landlord let me go in and see the damage first hand. Nothing in the living room or kitchen survived. My bedroom had extensive heat and smoke damage. I got a few things out of there that I could salvage, and the rest I just left. All my most precious possessions were gone: my grandparents couch, dresser, coffee table, china hutch, my grandma's dishes, their lamp, everything that my kid ever made for me when she was little, pictures that were irreplaceable, things like that. My suit and tux were ruined. Most if my clothes were ruined. It was all gone.

Twelve days later my girlfriend broke up with me. I was just finishing my trade school program for Medical Assisting. After graduating, I was treated like shit by my school, which had promised to help me get a job. They ignored my requests for help. I sent out TONS of resumes and made phone calls all over the place. I never got any replies. For four months I couldn't find a job. I was in a new apartment that I hated, that didn't feel like home. The new furniture and things I had bought, I felt no emotional attachment to. I was just numb and stunned.

By the time summer came around, I started getting this crazy germ phobia. I couldn't touch any garbage, even to throw it away. I couldn't touch dirty dishes, to clean them. I resorted to buying paper plates and forks to avoid doing dishes. Then I became agoraphobic. I was afraid to leave my apartment, for any reason. I slept all day and was awake all night, being afraid to sleep at night. I stopped showering. I stayed in my pajamas all day and night. My apartment became piled with garbage that I couldn't touch. I even stopped going to the grocery store, so I was eating crackers after a while, and not much else. By October 2008, my parents insisted that I move in with them so they could care for me. I just couldn't care for myself anymore.

I isolated myself from all my friends. I was afraid to answer my phone, because I was scared it would be bad news that I just couldn't deal with. I just stopped answering it. I stopped posting on the butch-femme websites. I basically fell off the face of the earth.

I was like this for a year. For a whole year the only times I left the house were to go to see my therapist, my psychiatrist, or my step-daughter. Other than that, it was too stressful to leave the house. I would freak out and shake and cry when just thinking about going out. After a while, I started going to bed by 3 am instead of 6 am, and getting up at noon or 1 pm instead of 5 pm. I got out a little more, but only when my folks were with me. In September they took me on a trip to Oregon for a few days vacation, and I had panic attacks virtually the whole time we were there.

Finally, in October of this year, I felt better and somewhat less panicked. I had a med change that has helped I think. Now I get out a lot more, but it is still hard for me to leave the house alone. I shower every day, exercise several days a week, and I am once again interacting with the rest of the world.

I am not out of the woods yet. I still have anxiety and sometimes feel panicky. However, my impending transition and starting T is something I have to look forward to and that helps me psychologically a whole lot. Each day I am getting better and I am grateful for that.