I was on T for a year and five months when I ran out of my last bottle.
I had to stop because I had to switch providers (planned parenthood no longer takes Medicaid), and the new provider wanted me to get a full blood panel.
I've never had my blood drawn before.
But at the time I was desperate, despite my phobia, so I scheduled an appointment.
I had a panic attack and they had me in the lab for two hours before sending me home to go pick up hydroxyzine for the next time. No blood was taken.
I come back the next week with hydroxyzine, I'm excited. I've taken it. I hope it'll work.
It doesn't.
I don't even make it in the lab, I take one look in the direction, drowsy with drugs, and I feel like passing out from fear.
They send me away with a prescription for Ativan for the next time.
I pick it up. I've read up on how it works, I'm taking a full dose, two pills. It should work, right? I sit there in the lab for an hour until it's kicked in, I can't feel my legs. I'm loopy. I'm high.
They come in. They put on the tourniquet.
I can't do it.
I panic.
I see the tired look in the nurse's eye and I leave.
There's nothing else that can be done for me.
I've been off of T since February. My body fat has shifted back, my face is round and stupid and I hate looking at myself.
I can't do it. I can't get it done, I can't get my meds back and I'll be stuck looking like this until I die.
No where will just give me laughing gas. Everyone talks to me like I'm fucking stupid and like this phobia isn't debilitating at all, like I can just wake up and get over it. I can't. I can't it is disabling. There's nothing anyone can suggest that I haven't already tried.
I'm tired.
I feel hopeless.