Thread by @TullipR

Today is a day I can't really ignore, because whether I want to mark it or not, my body reminds me regardless.

Six years ago, conflicted, but optimistic, i thought I was doing the right thing getting 'Sex Reassignment surgery'.

A Long Story 🧵

I transitioned as an adult, I was 26. Me and my fully developed big brain thought this would be a good idea.

I had severe OCD and a myriad of mental health problems. I mean even then I be head tiltin'...This was me at age 25, pure giga chad

Soon as i found out transition was an option, I went in full force, like a bat out of hell!

I had become obsessed with the idea that my body was being poisoned by testosterone, that every masculine trait needed to be annihilated, for i was a true and honest woman after all.

As a child, I was soft, loving, quite literal and I loved to sing, dance and dress up, but i also loved my diggers!

Me at age 10 before I went to sing karaoke with my friends family. You cant see it but my friends shoulder is on the right, he was a year younger too! I was tiny!

When I came out to my family, in isolation they all asked the same question when I told them I had something to tell them:
"You're gay, arent you?"

"No! I'm a real transsexual!" I said. Convinced I was the truest of the true. Genuinely born in the wrong body and all that noise.

It was 2013 and I had found a supportive online community that helped me get on the right path to transition.

Facing a 15 month wait for the gender clinic. I found out I could start the blocker (And stop the 'poison'!) if i had two private diagnosis of transsexualism.

So off I fucked to Scotland for a private diagnosis, as i waited to be enrolled for the gender clinic.

I was on a low income so I did the only thing i could, and got a payday loan. "Fuck debt, its this or death!" I reasoned.

Two days later I got the full diagnosis for £500.

It took until April 2014 for the Gender Clinic to agree to give me the Goserelin Zoladex implant (testosterone blocker).

When I got it, I was so happy the poison was about to stop. At first, I looked a right state. I did the opposite of blend in.

By January 2015, I was finally enrolled into the gender clinic and after a while, the blockers were showing some effect. Though, I wasn't committing to it at all.

I found myself desisting from the idea of estrogen/transition all together and just thought I'd live as just some androgynous looking guy.

It all changed when i went to the gender clinic. The very first question I got asked by the psychiatrist was:
"have you given any thought to gender reassignment surgery?"

I said honestly, I wasn't sure, I dont think i ever had that type of dysphoria, besides i really want to see the therapist.

They agreed to refer me to a gender therapist in March 2015. In total I would end up have 97 gender therapy sessions with them.

Gender therapy is not like normal therapy. It helped defeat my doubt, and also helped me defeat others who were doubtful.

In July 2015, the Psychiatrist asked if i had given any further thought to the surgery.

I said I wasn't sure, and i'd like to find out more. Thats when i realised NONE of them had any technical knowledge about the surgery, what it does, etc. It suprised me.

I got refered back to the place in Scotland, since I already went there for the pre-diagnosis.

I took my mother, she wasnt convinced.

The therapist told her, infront of her grown ass 28 year old son, if she didnt affirm, he'd kms.

She told me the surgery would make myself feel better, and that regret was extremely low (I was worried about regretted it) and bleeding.

I have a huge fear of bleeding, I'm a wuss! yes...

Once the surgery referal came through in late 2015, i panicked! Too quick i said!

"It'll be there for when your ready." The psychatrist said.

But all I really wanted was therapy.

I said no several more times, I forgot exactly how many times they asked, but it was constant.

By 2016 early 2017, life was still chaos, but blending in felt easier, I wasn't getting noticed really and most people gendered me as a woman.

I was happy enough as I was, but back at the gender clinic in 2017 I was delivered an ultimatum. Accept surgery referral or get discharged.

That would also mean an end to the therapy, and it was keeping me stable.

I bit the bullet and said no once more.

My gender therapist, also somewhat co-dependant on me as a client for now 60 odd sessions, didnt want to let me go either. He reasoned that i did have dysphoria and surgery was probably the best option.

So i called the psychiatrist back and asked to be refered back for surgery.

I've went over it in my head 1000's of times.

Why did I go along with it?
Why didn't just stop it?

It just felt like a ride i couldnt get off, and it got faster and faster.

Everyone was routing for me.

Day of surgery, may 23rd 2018.

After staying an extra 3 hours in theatre, i finally woke up around this time. 4:00pm ish.

I was still bleeding and had lots nearly 2000ml from the surgery and drains.

A friend helped snap this.

I apologise for the haram photo, but this is what the area looked like a few weeks after.

I had Lichen Scoloris, which was ignored and is now inside the hole and around the entrance. I had a constricted urethra and both my scar lines on both sides split open, which would get infected.

I won't share anymore, but i have a lot of photos that are far more grim.

It's what happened I really can't show you.

The depression, the pain, the insane pain oh my god. Not being able to pee, to feel anything.

Feeling betrayed

SO I GO BACK TO MY GENDER THERAPIST THREE MONTHS LATER....and i say "Hey, I think i made a mistake, i think i regret this."

"No you dont." He said.

I went back every other week and told him, i regret it. He said no.

One year of this back and forth. I was refered to a psychiatric team, that said i didnt have regret, I had Unstable Personality Disorder and severe Obsessive compulsive Disorder.

And then I was discharged in January 2020.

It was the worst time in my life, those years. I was very angry at myself, and everyone I talked to reassured me that I didnt have regret and if i did, it was my fault anyway.

But I resisted...And in 2022 I spoke out after desisting

I'm 37 as of Saturday... and I'm facing life ahead of me as a castrated male. It's not easy territory, but if i want one thing to come out of this, it's to give others a chance, a warning about surgery.

But i wont stop anyone. Just don't try and stop me.

If you would like to support my work, please consider liking/retweeting. I do it for free but will happily accept tips for sausage rolls.

Also consider checking out my substack where i write a lot of shit and youtube where i talk even more shit t.co/tQSunLfhVk
tullipr.substack.com
youtube.com/@tullipr

I really needed to get that off my chest so thanks for reading. It's appreciated

Thank you so much for the support guys.

I am indeed sueing. Hoping to have an update in September xo

Thank you so much for the support and well wishes.

To clarify, the surgery was paid for by the NHS.

The surgeon was called Phil Thomas (died 2022). I can't name the others due to legal processes.