After spending countless hours looking for a psychologist who was accepting new patients before the beginning of next year, I came out to my boss at work. She's.. One of the few people I felt I could trust to give me a straight answer. How I would navigate the professional field if I moved forward from here, how I'd be perceived.. She gave me some of the most uplifting advice I've ever gotten. And through it all she told me the one thing I needed to hear.

"You have to be true to you and your heart."

It's a line I've given a billion times but rarely receive in kind.

We wound up talking, and smoking cigarettes, for almost ten minutes.. I quit smoking three years ago, I was shaking and in tears the whole time, terrified that letting 'this secret' out would destroy everything I've built. Movie sets are shockingly like highs school. If one person thinks you're weird? You don't work again. You just don't. But at the end of it all she hugged me and said "I love you for you. Not your gender. Don't worry. We'll get through this."


A long discussion with my mother, a longer discussion with my husband, and finding a VERY unlikely ally in my Uncle.. I'm rather estranged from my family. y'see.. I'ts not easy, but I'm moving forward.. So my boss wanted to know when I was going to go see someone about this and I expressed my frustrations with trying to find someone on my insurance plan that can actually SEE me.. She found a place, gave me their info..

I've been blessed with a handful of very good friends, both online and in person. I'm not sure where my life is going to go from here. So many things have changed over the past few weeks regarding my support structure and my connections with a few people that I'm just so ass backwards right now I'm frankly terrified. Even more so of therapists. My first encounter with a therapist came in 5th grade when we were given free reign to write any fiction story we wanted. Mine involved the hero committing suicide not because he was depressed, but because he had to stop a monster he created. Think Frankenstein. But apparently that was a 'cry for help'. So here I am, this kid who had NO clue what suicide even REALLY was, or the gravity of it because I'd always been enthralled with movies. It's all fake. It's all pretend. All make believe. No one REALLY gets hurt. And now, I was in a room with people fifteen and sixteen years old talking about them trying to kill themselves. And they would get little marks on a chalk board for each 'truth 'they told. When it came my turn I was left in awe going 'I've never thought ANY of those thoughts..." And the therapist told me 'well for every story you tell you get a mark and at the end of the session you'll get a cookie for each mark you've got."

....Oh the stories that came out of my mouth.... It took 5 sessions before my mother caught wise to why the therapist wanted to prescribe me so many different medications.

So my trust in most people in the psychological community has been fractured ever since but now-

I'm going to my first appointment with a psychologist that my boss helped me find on Monday morning. We'll see what happens. Wish me luck.