This is part of my autobiography, everything in here is true, I did not add anything to any of these events. If I did anyhting I left out some things as I don't really want to remember everything that has happened. Enough stalling... Here are parts of my life.

Jayme Ann

I find it hard to be open with people because I have seen the horrible things they can do to others who are different because they don’t understand.

When I was in elementary school, I was different from the other boys and I was ridiculed for it. I didn’t have the stamina that others had. I always found it easier to sit and read novels than play football, soccer or other rough sports. When I did try to join in those sports I always got hurt. There was one time where I was dazed by a football hitting me in the temple. Yeah I know it could have been worse but my glasses took the brunt of the hit, yet I still wound up with a minor concussion. After that, I decided to stay as far away from the other boys as I could. That decision of mine doomed the rest of my school days. Somehow, I got lucky and never got beat up in school. During breaks, that is a different story and I will talk about that later.

I was an easy target and everyone else used me as such. The teachers were clueless as to what went on as I learned to bottle my emotions at an early age, and didn’t let anyone get too close as I knew they would just want to use me for their needs and toss me to the side when it was suitable for them. I can count the true friends I had in school on one hand, wait I don’t even need that. The truth is I had none until my last year of junior high where I met someone who saw me for who I was, not their conceived idea as to who I should be. Granted both of us were loners in school, we both had emotional baggage that could probably fill a three-bedroom house if it were tangible. I got depressed and suicidal before my parents trigged and realized something was seriously wrong. Yes, I will admit I attempted it, but it only made me sick and I realized that taking the “easy” way out was a stupid thing to do.

High school was not much different, as I was still an easy target, no matter what I did to try and gain weight, I could never break 90lbs and being a twig just made people act differently around me, it seemed that no matter what I did I could not make friends easily. Those three years were hell on earth. I have repressed so many memories from school that I can’t seem to remember much of anything that went on.

The first memory that I have of this is from elementary school and a knife being held to me and someone threatening me for some reason, I can’t remember what actually happened but, I can remember that jack-knife with the wood sides and brass ends like it were yesterday. It’s funny how unstable memory can be. Then there is the time I flipped over my handlebars of my bicycle after racing to a supposed friend had gotten hurt on the way home from school. She walked home and I wound up going to the hospital by ambulance. That day I will never forget as I found out that I had no true friends.

I distinctly remember flying for 6 seconds before crashing face first into the asphalt during the afternoon. I didn’t really feel any pain as I went into shock before I hit the ground. I remember trying to get up and falling down again only this time I hit the back of my head on the concrete curb and stayed there. The kids from the school seemed to circle around me and laugh, no one went to get help and I remember laying there dazed not really remembering if I drifted off to sleep or not. The next thing I can really remember is the panic-stricken face of an adult telling me I needed to stay awake and talk to her. I have no clue who she was and I never did get her name. but she managed to keep me awake long enough for the paramedics to arrive and start triage. Just before that my mom showed up saying one of the neighbor’s kids had told her about the accident. Of course by this time the other kids were nowhere to be found.

I remember the ride to the ER being slow and very painful. Being strapped to a spinal board with a ‘C’ collar is not something I want to experience again. I spent 5 ½ hours strapped to that torture device, before the doctor got the X-rays back and decided to release me from that prison. The clean up seemed worse as the nurses scrubbed every cut and scrape with betadyne scrub. Man did that burn! It felt like the nurse was using sand paper to scrub out the wounds over my body. Somehow I was lucky enough that I didn’t break any bones.

There was this one time in sixth grade where I was walking by the trees and was struck with a football to the side of my face just a few inches above the temple, man did I see stars. I remember feeling this intense pain and being knocked over. Before I could even stand up the playground monitor had called for the school nurse to come out and bring plenty of ice. I was rushed inside and told to lay down on the cot in the nurse’s office while I was monitored for a concussion. Well to make a long story short I developed the signs of a concussion and was sent home. I really don’t like Valentine’s Day, as it seems that I wasdoomed to be sent home every time that holiday falls on a school day.

During junior high, I had some wonderful experiences, I was able to volunteer as a candy striper at a local hospital. That was a wonderful learning experience as I found I have a great bed side manner well suited for nurses. I did this for about 2 years and only stopped when I turned 18 and made the mistake of letting someone decide to help me join the military. During my last year as a volunteer I managed to catch Appendicitis, the funny part was I was working in a hospital when I started to feel sick to my stomach. I told my supervisor that I was feeling off and was going home early. ( I usually worked 10 hour days on the weekends) She looks at me and asks if I want to go to the ER and be checked out, as I was looking pale. I brushed it off, went home, then curled up in my bed at Noon, and sleep until seven that night when my mom had to wake me up. Usually I don’t do this.

When she pulled off the blanket and placed her hand on me, she left and came back with a thermometer and took my temp. Finding out it was 105.9 and still climbing we went to the ER where they delayed till 2:30 AM the next morning to remove my appendix, because I didn’t show all the signs of appendicitis. The surgeon didn’t want to do the surgery but said “If I leave this for the morning I have a feeling it will rupture” so at 2:30 I had my appendix removed. The weird part is I distinctly remembering the surgeon saying “OH SHIT it ruptured” before waking up in a hospital bed somewhere else. Recovery took three days and now I can’t stand the taste or smell of JELL-O.

I have managed to keep a portion of my life hidden since I was five. This is when I found out that I was not male but I am transsexual, mentally I am female, however physically I am male. I keep having a feeling that I am supposed to be a girl not a boy, yet it feels so wrong to voice this so I bury it deep in my mind and keep it hidden. I manage to keep this hidden successfully for the next seventeen years. This is one secret that I am still keeping from my family. I have a feeling that my mother knows some of it but she hasn’t approached me yet. you know that look your parents get when they want to confront you about something, but don't know how to start the conversation?... Well ever since I mentioned having dreams where I am a genitic female and being truely comfortable with it, my mother has used that look... It makes me feel like crap every time I see it and I feel it is my fault for being this way.

I will admit I have been suicidal and have attempted it twice... First time I slit my writ, but aparently it wasn't deep enough,{I was 8 at the time} the really messed up part was nobody noticed anything was wrong. The second time I had been really depressed about my life but had hidden it away, finally I couldn't take feeling like a failure any more and decided that not waking up the next day would be better than to be seen as a failure. So I decided to mix pescription pain pills and Alcohol thinking it would work, just my luck it caused me to forcefully vomit and clear my stomach before the pills could take effect. Now I can't stand the taste or smell of coconut rum, every time I smell it my stomach turns for hours after. I know it was dumb to do and I will be paying the cost of those actions for the rest of my life.

For the longest time I had no clue that there were others like me around, I had never seen or heard of anyone openly saying anything about being in the wrong body, so I thought I was just being stupid. All that changed when I found a website that deals with the Transgendered. Supprising enough I found the link posted here on TopShelf, Now I have found out that there are nearly 4 million people like me to a certin degree. It is supprising that I had never heard of it before. How could 4 million people be wrong or so quiet. Is it fear of being attacked or what?