Totally Insane 31–Lamentations.
by Angharad

“Kylie–my, you do look smart; quite the image of academia juvenalis.”

Mummy laughed–to see such fun and the dish ran away with the spoon. If I’d understood what she’d said, I might have laughed too, instead I pouted.

“Don’t do that dear, you’ll get lines,” my mother instructed. Lines–I’d have to write lines for pulling a face? So much for a free country–this being a girl seems even harder than being a boy.

“So how are you, Kylie?” asked Dr Andrea.

“All–right, I s’pose.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t sound like you, Kylie,” commented the doctor.

Sod it, I decided to strike blow for emancipation, “Well, it seems I’m gonna be in trouble whatever I do.”

“Why’s that?” she looked concerned.

“Well, Mummy said I’d get lines if I made any faces.”

“Yes, I think she was joking–you’re far too young to worry about lines, especially if you moisturise regularly.”

“How can I be too young for lines, they used to make us do them as a punishment in junior school?”

At this disclosure both of the women fell about laughing and I was very close to tears. You’d think two women I should be able to trust not to ridicule me, had done just that.

“Oh, Kylie, you are so funny,” Mummy chuckled, wiping away a tear.

“Huh, well I don’t think so,” I huffed and pouted again.

“I meant lines on your face, you silly goose.”

Ah, now the moisturiser made sense–and I felt even more stupid. Is that possible?

“Oh,” I said and blushed even redder and got so hot, I felt sure there was steam coming out of my ears.

“Kylie, lovely as it looks, would you like to take off your blazer–you look rather too warm to be comfortable.”

I nodded and removed the garment, which meant I was sitting in a short sleeved blouse and short pleated skirt, with a tie, short frilly ankle socks and black Mary Janes.

“I don’t think we need the tie either, unless you’d prefer to wear it?”

I shook my head and removed it in seconds, throwing it to my mother, who was not impressed with my casual behaviour towards these new and expensive clothes–the tie cost about twelve quid–Daddy nearly collapsed with heart failure when he looked through the detailed receipt. He muttered something about me skipping this bit, because university had to be cheaper and no uniforms were required.

I pointed out to him that they wouldn’t allow me into university until I was at least seventeen. His rejoinder–“Can’t you just lie about your age?”

Back in Dr Andrea’s room, things were cooling down–she produced a jug of cold lemon barley, and I enjoyed the glass she gave me, except when my tummy rumbled–well it was actually more like water going down a plughole–that bit at the end, when it makes a zinging noise before the final bloop. That was my tummy, and each time I swallowed some it made the same noise. I wondered if I should stand up-and do other kids have the same problem? The two adults pretended not to notice.

“How is school going? I presume the uniform means you’ve been brought out of school to see me?”

“Not quite, doctor, I’ve been asked to start on Monday instead of next term.”

“So you’ll get a couple or three weeks before the end of term–what a good idea–you’ll get a good taste of what it’s all about and have a nice holiday to recuperate before starting it permanently. That’s a super idea–who thought of it?”

“They did–least they phoned me to ask if I’d like to try.”

“And you said, ‘yes’, what a brave girl you are.”

“Um–no–I like said---aaaargghh.”

“Oh–and why was that?”

“It’s like terrifying–I, like, have been there before.”

“When was that?”

“It’s what started it all off–remember?”

“Oh yes, your brother’s love life?”

I nodded.

“But then, you were in danger because they might discover you were a boy.”

“I’m still in danger of that–if they do, I’m like, so dead.”

“Why should they do that–you look very convincing to me.”

“I don’t have any boobs and I do have dangly bits–that sort of constitutes not being your average girl.”

“Well, a strong pair of panties should stop the discovery unless you are seen showering.”

“I’ve got some special panties, and I wear a bra with padding, but I could still be caught.”

“Well there’s nothing I can do about that, Kylie. I’m afraid that becoming a girl was bound to involve some risks on your part. Last time we talked I was under the impression that you were prepared for that. Are you having second thoughts about it all?”

I looked at the carpet, seeing faces in the random pattern which became most interesting.

“Kylie, I asked you a question. Are you having second thoughts?”

“About what?” I tried to distract her to give me time to think about my answer.

“Are you thinking of changing your mind about being a girl?”

“No–at least I don’t think so–I’m just worried about going back to that school and what could go wrong.”

“The school knows about you?”

“Yes, they were prepared to take me if I’d been assessed as transgendered, Mummy got our doctor to do us a letter, saying I was seeing you.”

“I see, you could have asked me for the letter–no matter,” which didn’t sound quite true, because momentarily, she went red in the face, then seemed to calm down–oops we’d unintentionally crossed one of her protowotsits–prototypes? Nah, um–protocols that’s the word.

“I’d be less worried if I had boobs, then at least I’d look like a girl.”

“I’m sure that plenty of your contemporaries are as small boobed as you are–and I did promise to reconsider in a year’s time, if you are still with the programme.”

“Programme?” I muttered to myself–this woman is crazier than me. Now she thinks it’s about something she saw on the telly.

“You looked puzzled, Kylie–the programme is planning how we deal with your transition and checking on its progress.”

“Ah, yes, I knew that–I was just checking.”

“So what bothers you about school?”

“Apart from going, you mean?” I asked.

“Well yes, we are having some communication difficulties today, aren’t we?”

“I learned that girls can be very cruel to each other and presumably even more to an outsider. I’ll be an outsider.”

“Indeed they can–but so can boys, as you probably already know?”

“I coped with boys–it’s girls I’m worried about now.”

“So you said.”

“I just hope I can fit in or I’m toast.”

“I’m sure you will–you’ll know one or two girls there won’t you?”

“Yes, I did a sleep-over with some of them the other week.”

“Well, I suspect if they didn’t find you out then, you’ll be safe enough in a school uniform.”

“I don’t know–they can be pretty mean by all accounts–Auntie Em was saying about a fight she had in school.”

“That’s the exception rather than the rule, but I notice you’re saying they not we–is there a reason for this or do you see them as separate to you?”

“I don’t understand the question, doctor.”

“Do you see yourself as a boy or a girl?”

“A girl, why?”

“So why are the girls in school, they?”

“Because at the moment, I’m not one of them–once I get used to the place and have some friends, then it’ll be us–is that what you mean?”’

“Exactly that–thank you, Kylie, you answered that very well.”

Phew–I just managed to talk my way out of that one–the reason why it’s they and not us, is the place is like a zoo if what other people say is true. Just as well I didn’t say that though–I’d never get my ’mones.

“As you’re undergoing a very stressful period, it might be useful for you to see me each week.”

“How am I going to fit that in? If I come out of school to see you and they find out–I’ll be a laughing stock. Kylie’s crazy–sees a shrink, you know the sort of stuff.”

“Why will they need to know?” asked the doctor.

“They’ll find out they always do–and you said how cruel girls can be.”

“Would you cope for two weeks without seeing me?”

I wasn’t sure she’d helped me very much other than diagnosing me as a freak officially; so I was pretty sure I’d cope without help.

“Yeah–I’ll try.”

“You are such a brave young woman, aren’t you?”

Me? I was the biggest wimp on the planet–but if she wants to think that, it’s okay with me. “Some have greatness thrust upon them,” I said desperately trying to keep a straight face.

She looked at me very seriously: “Taking the piss out of your psychiatrist is a serious offence.”

Gulp! “I’m sorry, I didn’t like mean it that way,” I could feel my eyes becoming moist.

Then she winked at me–“What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,” she laughed loudly then added, “Your face was a picture.” She was still chuckling to herself.

Hmm, the biter bit–I’m not getting into mind games with a psycho–I mean psychiatrist, I can only lose the contest. However, I did mutter, “They say women are more cruel than men.” This was true, my dad was a pushover, Mummy was like a brick wall–unless it was dealing with Brian, then she always took my part.

“Ouch–touché, you’re learning to fire from the lip pretty quick, aren’t you.”

“I have a brother who is older and bigger than I am, and who needs to be kept in his place or he’d make my life unbearable.”

“How has he adapted to your change?”

“He makes fun of me when he thinks Mummy isn’t listening, he’s also hit me once or twice–but that got Daddy rather excited; so most of the time he’s okay–when he’s not treating me like the maid.”

“How do you mean?”

“He seems to think I’m there to fetch and carry for him.”

“And do you?”

“When it suits me.”

“When does it suit you?”

“If I want him to do something for me.”

“I see–but it sounds as if he’s actually treating you like a sister?”

“Mostly–I s’pose.”

“That’s good–isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I s’pose.”

“He could still be calling you names or threatening you?”

“Daddy won’t allow any of that, he threatened to reduce his pocket money if he didn’t leave me alone.”

“Your daddy–is that what you call him to his face?”

“Yeah, is there anything wrong with that?” I blushed.

“Not at all, if that’s what you like to call him and he doesn’t mind. He’s very protective of you, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but it’s nice, he spoils me much more as a girl than he ever did as a boy.”

“So you have an incentive to stay as a girl?”

What was she on about–doesn’t she know how tough this is to do?

“What does that mean?”

“Well, it’s easier to be daddy’s girl than be his son, too much competition from your elder brother–isn’t that true?”

I felt very angry–what was she implying? How dare she?

“Why do you keep doubting me? Have you ever tried living as a boy and being accepted as such by everyone?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well when you have–then you’ll have a better idea of how I feel, won’t you? All you do is try to prove me wrong–I don’t know why I keep coming to see you?”

“Because you want hormones, remember?”

“I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worthwhile for that–besides, I can buy them over the internet.”

“If you do–I think you’ll find Daddy will become very angry with his little girl, and so will I–and it’ll count against you getting them from me or any other doctor. Fine, you can give yourself a feminised body–but you still need us–even someone as clever as you can’t do surgery on yourself, can you?”

She had an answer for everything. She called all the shots–I actually feel like a little girl here–a six year old, I’m so helpless.

“Why are you so horrible to me,” I said and the tears began.

She handed me a box of tissues–“Kylie, I need to be sure you’re not making any mistakes that can’t be rectified. I don’t want you to have a female body and a few years down the line decide you want to be a man–your testes will be useless by then and reverting back will be very difficult. I like you a lot–you’re a lovely kid, and I’m fairly sure you are transgendered–but I need to be certain before I prescribe hormones.”

“That’s a year away–you’ve got loads of time to mess with my head before then.”

“Is that how you see it?”

“That’s what you’ve done the last twice–I don’t really like coming here anymore.”

“Do you want to see someone else?”

“What’s the point, I’d like have to start all over again–and still have to wait for the ‘mones.”

“So–that’s all you’re coming for–until I prescribe hormones?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“In which case you’d better have some then, hadn’t you.” She pulled out a prescription pad and wrote on it–tore off the top sheet and handed it to me.

I wasn’t sure how I felt–I know I was crying as my shaking hand accepted the form. “Are these, like female hormones?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“If that’s all you’re here for you might as well go, hadn’t you?”

I clutched the piece of paper tightly, “I’m sorry, I got upset with you.”

“I’m sorry I seemed to provoke you, but I had to be certain. If you were prepared to go through several more of these interviews just for a few pills at the end of it, you were either addicted to the idea, or serious. I hope it’s the latter because I’ve just overturned everything I believed in about children’s therapy.”

“I’m sorry to have been a nuisance,” I sniffed and she passed me the tissues again.

“You haven’t been a nuisance–you’re a challenge, and I need to be challenged now and again–keeps me thinking about what I’m doing rather than simply doing it. I suspect you see me as a challenge?”

“A bit, but underneath you’re a nice lady, really.”

“It’s a good job you’re going from boy to girl–if I did this the other way round, you’d stop growing, which is why transsexual men tend to be a bit short compared to genetic men.”

“I’d have thought male hormones would make you grow?”

“Sideways yes–you build muscle and heavier bones–but remain vertically challenged. That shouldn’t happen with those, but even if it did–you’d be tall enough for a woman–just.”

I hoped I’d grow a bit more–or be a woman dwarf. Maybe I should hold on for a bit longer with the pills. “Are these like, gonna make me shorter?”

“I don’t think so, why?”

“It’s okay–I just wondered that’s all.”

“They’re not going to change you overnight you know–they’re very low dosage, but I’ve kept my word, I’ve prescribed them within a year.”

“Yes, thank you, I appreciate it, and you haven’t made a mistake–I’ll never be a boy again.”

“I think I know that, Kylie–good luck with school, and I’m here if you need me,” she offered me her hand, instead I gave her a hug–it felt more what I needed to do. She patted my back and quietly said, “You’re all girl, aren’t you?”

I nodded and sniffed as I left the room. As soon as we got the prescription and I started the pills–I was committed to being a girl for the rest of my life. Big decision time–I swallowed hard, and Dr Andrea asked my mother to go in.

“I don’t know how you wheedled that out of Dr Schlessinger, but your father is not going to be impressed–not one bit.”

“He doesn’t have to take them.” After the fight I had to get them, I wasn’t going to give them up.

“You realise they could make you sick in the morning–as if you were pregnant.”

“I’d prefer they could make me pregnant, rather than sick.”

“Kylie–that‘s not funny–besides if you knew what was involved in giving birth, you wouldn’t say that.”

“Can’t be any worse than having my doodah cut off and turned inside out.”

“Why–?Are you still thinking about it?”

“Well yes, I can’t have sex with Philip until it’s done.” I only said it for effect–and what an effect.

Mummy stood there blushing and virtually frothing at the mouth. “I can’t believe you just said that–you haven’t been doing anything–have you?”

I laughed so much I dropped my blazer, and nearly wet myself when I bent down to pick it up. “Course not–what d’you think I am?”

“For a moment there, I wasn’t quite sure.”

All the way to the shops, she looked at me smirked and sniggered. We got the pills–it was a private prescription, so we had to pay for the pills and a dispensing fee–wow, I’m used to free prescriptions because I’m still in school. This was twenty quid, Mummy was not impressed. I was told, I’d better do some more babysitting or lock-smithing because I’d have to pay for the next one.

Then we drove home, her making funny little grunts to herself and sniggering. I wonder if she’s going senile? I hope not–I’m too young to become a home nurse–though it would get me out of having to go back to that school. Hmm–I wonder if Daddy could get her certified?

Thanks to Gabi for keeping me on the straight and narrow, any mistakes remaining are all Bonzi's fault.