The following was originally written in August of 2016, a year before I gave up on everything I had accomplished. In the name of being a productive member of society, I de-transitioned.
I share this particular post not with the intention of inspiring or sharing my views but rather as a cautionary tale of the importance of proper medical care for trans people who have elected to pursue not only hormone therapy but gender affirmation surgery as well.

In my case, I struggled to find a doctor who could manage my post-operative hormone care. I had doctors who refused to help, who decided testosterone would be my best bet, who prescribed me drugs that did not make sense and then declined to explain why they had chosen them, and even doctors who advised that no hormone therapy would be necessary going forward.

This is not the case.

If one follows the path as I did, then hormone care is required for the remainder of that person’s life. I did not do this and instead elected to go off the therapy entirely as the one doctor had suggested, and in the following years leading up to 2017 and, my decision to de-transition my health slowly failed. We assume that “sex hormones” only control things related to gender and sex, but this is not the case. The biggest problem I encountered was a severe increase in the anxiety issues that I had previously struggled with.

Anxiety had been something I could swallow and often ignore in my old life; as I transitioned, that anxiety lessened to the degree that I could enjoy my life as I had never done before. However, as time went on with no hormone therapy, the anxiety returned and, before long, dominated my life. It got so bad that even getting into my car to drive to work would cause my anxiety to flare into a full-blown panic attack, which manifested initially as a cough but soon would lead to my airway closing completely. I blacked out as a result of this more than one time.

I was unable to work, often times to even leave the house. Even at home, anxiety could be crushing for no reason at all, even while trying to sleep at night.

There were other symptoms of my lack of hormones as well, but it was anxiety that was the mountain that none could climb. Ultimately, all I could do was try what I called, “the path of least resistance” to at least live. This included de-transitioning, thereby removing the anxiety of having to pass in public and worry about makeup, hair, and everything else being just right. It involved finding a job I could do from home, which still, at times, was a major struggle but one I could overcome.

So, I survived by the skin of my teeth for years. The health issues only increased, and the anxiety gnawed at my soul every moment of every day.

Finally, in mid-2023, I got help with the anxiety, which led to a diagnosis of ADHD, which led to me waking up a bit from the fog that dominated my life for seven long years, which led me to ask myself, “Hey.. could all this be a hormone thing??”

As of 2024, I was able to find a doctor who was able to treat me, and I am back on the hormones my body was so desperately starved for. Things have already begun to turn around, and I can see light at the end of the tunnel.

Now that my introduction to my original article might be longer than the article itself, I give you the article that illustrates the beginnings of my fall as well as the importance of proper medical care for all trans people.

Danger: Crazy Bitch Ahead (August 2016)

It has been a long time since my last update here; my story ended without much as a footnote.
“That’s the way things are,” I was once told; “you get surgery, and afterward, you just have a normal life.”
You can almost see the full page spread in the Sunday paper, “Get your normal life here! All for the low, low price of your money, your life, your sanity, and your health!”

So here we are… three or four years later. I am cured, I am the person I was always meant to be, and I am no longer “trapped in my own body”; oh wait…
See, the thing is, life is never that easy… We make these massive decisions about how to improve ourselves and hope for the best because there is absolutely NO way to see what is to come without taking the plunge.

I wrote a few years back about my new life, about taking the bull by the horns and molding this new life into something good for myself and my family. I had lost just shy of 150 pounds, a major battle, and I thought I could take on the world. I transitioned, I became an inspiration to others, I had surgery, I had everything I could want… but… no.

I gained 150 pounds back; I don’t have any feeling between my legs, hell I have to listen to tell when I am done peeing! I could never find a GOOD doctor to help me manage hormones; I met every quack in the book who wanted to over-treat me, refuse to treat me, or just had generally no idea what they were doing. I have not had a steady job in at least two years due to the new gorilla on my back named anxiety. Hell, it’s a major accomplishment just to acknowledge existing some days.

“But Sabi, this is what you wanted; this was what was right for your life!”
Bullshit.

True, I no longer suffer from dysphoria; I am over-longing for the parts to make my life whole.
I am over self-serving theories about what is right or wrong to do about one’s identity. I am over selling the product of “change your body for the better!”

Today, life is about being exhausted… all the time; it’s about my body hurting all over and constant panic attacks, which literally leave me choking for breath on the floor. I don’t even think about gender issues as I worry about how bills are going to be paid or whether I have cancer, MS, or just a bad case of the crazy ass.  I don’t dream about the merits of having boobs as I send off my 25 millionth resume with full knowledge that I will never hear back about a job, and even if I did, chances are I could not handle it.

I think back to the day I started this crazy blog. About the time I had conquered my weight and the time I decided to tackle my gender issues. If I had known then what I know, how would I have done it?

Probably not…

While all my struggles and revelations were and are true and valid, the final price to be paid is not worth it. If I could have taken away the lesson that my sense of self did NOT equal my body, nor did it have to, I might have come up with different solutions.

Am I here to tell all trans people that transition is wrong and that “finding God” is the answer? Absolutely not.
If I am to share any message at all in the form of advice, I think it would be to be sure, be very sure, and then when you are sure, go back and look at it again and again, to be extra sure.

Trans people are very vulnerable to, “The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Fence”. We can look past the fact that it can be equally crappy on both sides.

When I first started my transition way back in my twenties, my therapist at the time shared with me a professional pamphlet that she had been sent. It amounted to “Treat trans people for guaranteed steady income!”. At the time, insurance did not pay for anything trans-related, so any medical professional could count on being paid CASH for their services; no messy insurance paperwork or negotiated rates.

Trans people are a commodity, easily exploited by the medical community. As such, we need to be a hundred times more careful in taking anything we are told about hormones or surgeries at face value. We need to be EXPERTS at everything related to what we are considering, and we must take the time to explore the ramifications of what this means to us as individuals.

So do what you must do, but be informed be careful.

Please don’t end up like me.