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Part I - Purgatory
1923 to 1956 and August 1956 to July 1997 |
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- 1973 - Age 17
- I have bought a tape recorder and sometimes when no-one is home I try to
make my voice sound more like a girls. I don't do this during the day. I make my
voice as deep as I can. It makes my throat hurt by the end of the day, but I
know my own voice is soft and people find that upsetting.
- I tried to get this girl I knew to date me. We sat in her room talking about
magazines and clothes and stuff. I then plucked up the courage to ask her if she
would go on a date with me. She burst into laughter. "Why?" she said. We ended
up in a huge argument and the last thing she screamed at me was that I was a
girl and why did I want to date girls! I was so angry I turned and punched the
wall. "Because I have to! I'm supposed to be a boy! Shit! I'm useless. I can't
even date. What a great life I'm going to have. Half boy and half girl. No-one
will want me. What's the point! I might as well be dead! Ow, my hand hurts" She
slapped me. Then hugged me. We sat and cried. She kept rocking me and saying she
was sorry.
- I had broken my right little finger. At the hospital the doctor asked how I
had done it. I told him. It just gushed out. He sat and listened for a while,
then wrote a name and phone number on a card and gave it to me. "Speak to him
when you're ready. Just don't kill yourself ok? Stay alive. There is hope."
- When I got home I rang the number. It was a psychiatrist. I slammed the
phone down and sat stunned. Was I sick? Was I mentally ill? Had my whole life
been like this because there was something wrong in my head? No! I wasn't crazy.
I didn't want some doctor convincing me with hypnotism or whatever that what I
felt was not real..
- I gave in eventually and arranged an appointment. He sat and listened. At
the end he said I needed to do some tests, but he wanted to talk to my parents.
I felt sick and explained that my father would find the whole thing really bad
and would not allow it to happen. He said he had to talk to them. I was
terrified and pleaded with him: "Please, please don't tell him about what I
want. Just say I'm sick or something, please.." I went home and sat waiting for
judgement. When my father called me into the front room I was dizzy from fear
and excitement. He said that he had talked to the doctor and he and my mother
had decided that if I was sick then I really needed to see this shrink. He would
pay for the first few treatments and then I would have to contribute by getting
a job.
- I went and did the tests. I had two appointments each week. After a month,
we were sitting and talking and he asked me whether I thought I was strong
enough for the next step. I asked him what he meant. He said he was convinced I
was transexual and that I should start a hormone program. How did I feel about
that? I went into a sort of awake fainting. After a moment I started to feel hot
and cold all over. "You mean you can give me a girls body?" "Yes." I had just
been handed the keys to heaven. Then I suddenly thought of my father. I sat
paralysed with fear. I had a flash of understanding that I was weak and couldn't
make decisions for myself. I really was useless, just like my father kept
telling me. I started to cry. "I can't." I wailed, "Oh god, I can't! I want to
but I can't!" When he asked me why not, I told him that my father would not pay
for it and he would probably get really angry.
- "Talk to him. Explain the situation. If he won't listen come back here and
we'll see what we can do."
- I tried. He went berserk. He forbade me to go anywhere near any doctors from
then on. We had a huge fight and he beat me senseless. I had bruises all over my
arms and face. Then he got down and hugged me. "Son.. Son.. It's just you
haven't grown up yet. You're not a girl. Look at you. What could you do with
your dick? Just grow up, that's all I ask". I said he could have my dick right
now if he gave me a knife. He hit me and stormed out.
- I had my first suicide attempt then. I took a huge amount of pills from the
cabinet and swallowed them with brandy. I then went into my room to wait the
end. Several hours later I woke up with a massive migraine and had thrown up all
over myself. My father came into my room and upon seeing me asked what on earth
I was doing. I tried to get up but was so groggy I just fell over. My mother
came in screaming and saying I needed to get to the hospital to get my stomach
pumped. My father just looked at me and said "His stomachs been pumped already
by the look of it. God! You can't even kill yourself like a man." and walked
out.
- One day I came home and my dad was drunk. He never got drunk normally, but
he was very wobbly. I said I would make him some coffee to help him. I went into
the kitchen and put the kettle on. He came in and gave me a hug. I pushed him
away and said "You're drunk". He looked at me "And you're gay, but I'll be sober
in the morning." I closed my eyes and shook my head at the atrocius use of
Churchills quip and turned my back on him. He grabbed me and put his hand down
my pants and fondled my dick. I gasped and tried to push him away. "Come on, you
know you want it." he said. I squirmed and managed to get free. "I can't believe
you just did that!" I shouted. "What?" he said "Don't you know that I know you
and H do it?" I dropped my jaw. "We don't. That's a terrible thing to say! My H
would never do that!" He smiled and wobbled and said in a little girls voice "My
H, My H.." than laughed. I ran out of the kitchen, went to my room and pushed a
wooden wedge under the door to stop him getting on because there weren't any
locks.
- I have given up trying to dress nicely. I wear the same jeans and grubby
T-Shirt for weeks and won't let my mother wash them. I have let my hair get
scraggly and let the hair grow on my face. I hate myself. I am weak. I was given
a chance to have what I wanted and I didn't have the courage to do it. I am a
coward. I don't care about school any more. They made me repeat fourth year, but
I didn't care and just waited until each class is finished and then sit and tell
myself I am a waste of space. My room has become a mess. What's the point in
taking care anyway? I just sit in my room and stare at the wall. I have figured
out how to kill myself properly. I will wait until I can drive, then I will buy
lots of petrol and tell everyone I'm going for a drive. Then I will drive as far
into the desert north of Kalgoorlie that I can until the petrol runs out. Then I
will get out and walk until I die. That way I won't be found for ages and no-one
will know. It'll be better for everybody. My father will be rid of me and I
won't be any trouble anymore.
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