Girls never lie boys never tell the truth.

michelle2025

New Here
First off, I am a bit slow. It may take me a while to figure out where to turn next. I suspect I have autism, and ADHD. My mirror shows that I may have a genetic condition. A condition that as a male may have gotten me kicked out of the men's rest room, for looking too feminine. In fact guys have pointed me towards the women's rest room. Not that I am complaining, because I am transgender.

Somebody got hurt, and I was never asked what happened. I was told by my dad that I was to keep my mouth shut as he did not want to hear any of my lies.
My sister's version was believed, my version was rarely heard.

I come from an era where males were never raped or abused. In other words the sexual abuse at 3 years of age never happened. I pick that age because the guy disappeared out of my life and I didn't remember it. after my dad died, 30 years later, this man returned and I started getting severe head pain. I heard he had abused his own daughter. I mentioned it to my mother and she told me not to lie. I wonder what else was going on, as when he returned he had no problem sleeping with my mother.

I thought it quite odd that I felt like I had been raped, and that the person who raped me was the same person who punished me when I was falsely accused of having sex with his sister. Sometime I think it was not about punishing me, but getting his jollies by fondling me. He was about 3 years older than me. When I stayed over at her house, I had to sleep in his bed.

I guess I can say that my dad stole some silver dollars from my mother's jewelry box. It didn't seem to bother him that I got blamed. I found them in his safe after he died. The years on the silver dollars corresponded with the years my siblings and I were born.

I heard that his badge and gun proved that he never lied. I accepted the story he told to his buddies of how he won his roller skates in a raffle. The real truth was that I was the one who won the skates in a raffle.

one more for now. That any ache or pain that I felt was an attempt to get out of doing work. but he could say he could not do any work because of his smashed fingers.
 
I wrote on another forum about living in an rural area. Going to grade school in the 1950s, and the teachers likely have been there since the 1940s. I also wrote how it would have been unlikely that they knew about autism or ADHD. I also suspect I have Klinefelter syndrome.
I got told recently that if I had this it would be in my medical records. Even if the teachers would have noted it, it would only be in the school records. And if my parents had been informed, my dad had the standard answer. "He's faking it." And there is also the fact that if my first fifty years of medical records exist, they are in a filing cabinet in some storage building. Not to mention that some hospitals and clinics have been torn down.
The baby records that my mother kept have also disappeared. So I can't go back and find out when I first walked. Or when I started talking. I think it is called delayed development.
I still have problems. I went to the veteran's health center to get a diagnosis of autism. I ended up in therapy with a social worker to learn how to use my fidget toys to manage my stress, and I still don't have my diagnosis.
 
I have no idea where my mother got the idea that a slap from her hand cures everything. At some point she let slip that she slapped my face while breast feeding. I hope that was not her weaning technique. Her slaps cured left handedness, which caused stuttering. A slap to cure stuttering, which caused silence. Congratulations, you have a well mannered boy, that does as he is told. A boy that trembles from fear of getting his face slapped or his hair yanked.
 
I wish I could make up stories like my dad could. What a story I could tell. I actually pulled an antique toy pickup out of a scrap pile. It happens to be a 1921 buddy L, International little red pickup. It looks like it got backed into and is about the size of a Barbie vehicle. Since the sticker is missing, I can't tell if it is an original or a reproduction. To me it would not matter since I would customize it.
My story would go like this. When my uncle was born, my paternal grandpa bought him this truck. My uncle left it sitting out and my grandpa backed into it with his pickup. Since it was now broken, my uncle gave it to my dad when he was old enough. That would mean it has been in the family for over 100 years.

I heard it was the old country way, you get too old to play with your toys, and they are given to the next in line. when my dad gets too old they go back to my uncle for his kids. My Tonka trucks also go to to my uncle when I am deemed to old to play with toys. My cousin has a garage full of Tonka trucks.
 
I looking at that and I am realizing all he did was substitute his name for mine in the roller skate story. The same thing when his mother gave me an old telephone. It became his mother gave the phone to him. The box of bottle openers I found at the garbage dump, became bottle openers that he had found.
Stuff that would disappear from my bedroom when nobody had been in my bedroom. The stuff that disappeared was found in his desk drawer in his workshop after he died. It was since nobody had been in my bedroom, they convinced me that I never had it in the first place.
 
And there is also the fact that if my first fifty years of medical records exist, they are in a filing cabinet in some storage building.
By law, in the US, medical records only have to be kept 10 years. ANYTHING OLDER THAN 10 years? Is usually burned, to free up space for new “old” records, in whatever off-site facility they’re using. Academic records have a shorter lifespan, by law. At the age of 24? Zip/zero/nada/zilch is reuired in the way of HS Diplomas, SATs, etc. when applying to university. As the records are purely bonus, not prerequisite.
 
Unless I misunderstood, the endocrinologist was saying that because it is not in my medical records, I do not have Klinefelter syndrome. And I locked up, I couldn't talk.
In a couple of weeks, I have another appointment, this time it is psychiatric therapy. I suppose I have to convince the therapist that these bumps on my chest are half real and that I want estrogen to made them bigger. Before I go, I want to do some printouts of stuff I have written. Due to my mother slapping me, I try to talk in the wrong vocal range. my mother once told me that I had a high squeaky voice. I am going to try something. I made up a USB thumb drive with female vocalists. I want to sing along as I am driving. It will play through the radio.

I forgot to mention that my mother died a couple years ago at the age of 92. She will no longer slap my face.
 
Is it true that medication will not be given as I am considered a new patient? Less than a year at the veteran's health center? I think I messed up. I got some hash browns without checking, and they were loaded with soy oil. I wonder what will happen if take a swallow of olive oil.I think it was about noon when I left
The drive was nice, as I can adjust the temperature. When I got back home, I took couple of bags into the house. I went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and took a nap. Then I sit by my computer and take another nap.
 
Unless I misunderstood, the endocrinologist was saying that because it is not in my medical records, I do not have Klinefelter syndrome.
Unless the patient specifically requests the genetic testing for chromosomal duplicates, disorders, syndromes, or XY female, etc.… medical ethics requires doctors NOT to share that info with patients, if it shows up in other testing. It’s one of those things that was argued about for several decades before the medical board came down with a decision. It’s a complex decision, that allows for patient access, but also requires genetic counselors/counselling sessions etc., both before & after testing; as the risk of suicide, violent &/or criminal behaviour, & litigation following those results from devastated families… is so darn high.

So if you really want to know? Sign up for that series of hoops.

I’ve sorta suspected I may be an XY-female ever since I learned about it in school. It doesn’t both me either way, so I’ve never had the desire to find out… beyond casual curiosity. As if I am? Or not? It doesn’t matter to me.
 
At the moment, I'm recovering from a severe cold. My lungs hurt when I cough. I still do not have a asthma diagnosis, so I have no asthma medication. I have spent the last couple of days pretty much sleeping.

As for genetics, I would think it would be obvious. My birth certificate states male, but I look female, complete with breasts. I have the wide hips and narrow shoulders. I even got yelled at once for entering the wrong restroom when I was going into the men's restroom.
The strangest thing is whether it was a man's shirt or a woman's shirt, the sleeves were too short. Then I find out my arms are too long.
As a transgender person I have an advantage that I already look like a woman. I pass as a woman without taking the female hormones.
 
I once heard the term Wyatt Earp wannabe. That seems to fit my dad just fine. My dad was elected constable of our township. He said the badge and gun are proof that he never lies. But then he really never was that honest. Showing porn movies to a minor. I don't think that is legal. But then he reminds me about the statutory rape and incest. At some other time he told me he can take me to the sheriffs office at any time and I could spend the night in jail.
Back to the porn movies. My dad's buddies were there, and after watching the Tom Peeping move made a comment that I should dress as a woman and go into the women's rest room to spy on them. I don't know if he actually thought I looked feminine enough. but it did get chuckles from the other guys.
 
Back in my 20s, I seemed to have a craving for beer. Some may try to correct me and say it was a craving for alcohol, and I will say wrong, it was a craving for beer. To understand, you need to know the history of beer. Quick history, hops are loaded with phytoestrogens, alcohol releases the phytoestrogens, beer is loaded with phytoestrogens.
I'm starting out with my hormones out of balance, my testosterone is being converted to estrogen. Using the phytoestrogens from the beer, less testosterone is converted. Should I say addicted to the phytoestrogens. I can also have a craving for non alcoholic beer. I could go through a 12 pack of non alcohol beer a week.
 

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