Four years ago now, I suffered from a really bad depression, anxiety and intrusive “daymeres” – nightmares that went on while I was awake. It did not qualify as a psychosis, but parts of it weren´t much different. Since I could no longer live on my own, my aunt came to pick me up for a little while. I was twenty-six back then.
I suffered from self-harm urges mostly that were tied to dysphoria. I hated my chest and I hated my crotch area, but I didn´t know why (which confused me even more). Even then I was already trying out methods of binding my chest (with scarves and with bandages – don´t do it). But I had never heard of transmen nor knew that I was one.
I had been there about two days when I flipped out big time. My aunt heard me scream and came up to the attic to prevent me from self-harming. She told me to cut it out – which didn´t help. All I could think at the moment, was that she had come up to invade my space and was going to physically force me to stop what I was doing.
Neither of us understood each other at that moment. I did not understand her good intentions and she had no idea how to handle the situation without upsetting me further. So I left for my uncles place, who is generally more direct and less emotionally involved. This worked better. However, I concealed the fact that I self-harmed.
When he asked about lesions I said I didn´t know why I had them, and he readily believed me, thought it was some type of allergy. During the time I was there, my daymeres went from bad to worse, and I ended up having daymeres in which people from my childhood were telling me to kill myself.
Miraculously, somehow, I recovered from that – basically by training myself to touch my body in a friendly way and by applying mindfulness to everything I did. Breathing, walking, looking – I did everything mindfully and I registered every tiny thing I did, from counting my steps on the sidewalk to examining every bug on it.
Read the next part of my post here.