[2024-10-29, 22:03:50]

Today was a day. Told my therapist and psychiatrist about my conflict, they were 
both fine with it. My therapist I've been in three sessions with, I tell him my 
problems as that's what I go there for. We work through them and come to a solution, 
even if that solution won't change the outcome of how I feel, it's still nice to have 
someone to talk to about my problems. Talking to my mom about my problems is a very 
mixed bag, either she is supportive, or she says something completely outlandish, 
I won't go into details because I'm not sure how the description this is fit for 
would be seen by the SDF admins or whoever reads this. But, I went over to my 
psychiatrist's office at around 15:30, told my mom to wait outside, she already 
knows but I don't like talking about problems like that with her near. She has a 
tendency to interrupt that kinks any flow of information and agreement. When I told 
him, the room went silent. Him and the two trainees that were observing our session 
stopped on a dime. Told him that the dysphoria played a role in my episode I mentioned 
a week ago and the crumbs of the psychosis cookie that splattered over my calendar a
fterwards. Told him about the impulses and how it has been going on for pretty much all 
of my life. I've known this guy for about give or take: a year at this point. He knows 
my behaviors well enough to come to an effecient conclusion on things. The look he gave, 
the pity and sadness that washed over his eyes, it all painted a picture. He opened a door 
for me, gender dyshoria therapy. I need to think about it, I don't want to live in a shithole 
of a town while also slowly, physically, turning more feminine. Sounds like a recipe for 
becoming a statistic. That's the problem though, I need to stay within the window I'm at, 
the opprotunity I have while also maintaining my already dwindling sanity. Another door opened 
for me that hour, one that I took without a second though. Antipsychotics that won't dull me out, 
something I desperately need. I pick them up from CVS tomorrow, 3mg every night. Once everything was 
all said and done, I had confirmation about meds and an open door, my mom walked in. My psychiatrist 
made very subtle hints about my current conflict and told my mom about the meds I'm planning on taking. 

Something less important, but still of great value to me, my ankle weights have arrived. The pull-up bar 
I have on my closet looks more and more in pain each and every single day. 20 pounds more to my mass, 
better opprotunities for building core and leg muscle. I've been trying to keep a consistent fitness 
regiment, as it will keep me sane (and healthy!). The person I mentioned in my last log I've started 
talking to again. This is probably a bad idea given the possibility of codependency, but she's a friend.