You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness.

Today, I feel like I've made some sort of progress with my parents, as well as coming to a strange realisation myself.

It started as soon as I got home, and my mum asked when I'm going to Sweden, and said once more how she feels I should have mentioned it or asked, because this is probably the last year they could have had me. I, like the good son I am, said I can come back next year, but mum pointed out that I'm not even good at being here when I am here. I didn't answer because I'm not fond of lying more than I have to.

Somehow, it moved to my transition, as always. And while my parents have a terrible understanding of how transgenderism works, believing that no matter what I do, I'm still a girl, they're immensely relieved that I can't start hormone treatment immediately. They seem to think it's a tablet, and I've never heard of it being tablets, which shows just how much they've bothered to research this.

I found out that the reason mum didn't say goodbye to Moony was because she'd been crying for four hours and looked a mess, as she casually told me before informing me that that's how she'd been falling asleep for several nights, which made me feel like a fantastic kid.

I got told once more how the brain doesn't fully develop until you hit the mid 20s, and my mind is still prone to risks. They actually likened it to my brother insisting on getting so drunk he could barely walk. As if I'm not thinking at all about this, as if I haven't spent literal years and many a sleepless night fretting over details and scenarios.

They assume it hasn't occurred to me that job interviewers may treat me differently because I changed my name. But if a placement discriminates against LGBT* minorities then I don't want to work there.

They think that if I'm not allowed in the disabled bathrooms in public (because apparently you might be told you aren't allowed?) and I try to go to the mens, that I'm breaking the rules because I'm a girl.

But what McDonalds or chain coffee store doesn't have disabled bathrooms?

And if I tell people what I am, they're still always going to think 'she' and correct themselves to be politically correct, but essentially they will see me for what I am, so who am I trying to kid? By taking hormones I am conforming to the societal views of gender that I so despise.

Except that isn't true. I'm taking hormone treatment because I feel sick sometimes when I see curves where there shouldn't be any. Louis Tomlinson can get away with a feminine figure while still being seen as male, but I can't.

I was also informed of how selfish I am.

I've been told by many that I'm not selfish at all, that I'm actually selfless, but apparently, as I'm starting to consider, my parents have been saying how selfish I am for years. It's not how they raised me, but it's happened.

And that's worrying, because if I believed myself not to be selfish, what else about me isn't true? Or is this just more things my parents think they understand?

And yet, despite all that, I actually feel okay. I've got a good free weekend ahead of me, and I've convinced my friend to be a dungeon master for an eventual game of Dungeons and Dragons. It feels like a step in my nerd-life to take on the joys of a roleplaying board game. I'm going to finish Game of Thrones at last soon, and then embark on comic books or more of those games, or something, and actually just have a nice weekend.

Who knows, maybe I'll even book an appointment on Monday and ask my GP to refer me to a psychoanalyst while telling her of my name change. I think that maybe if the GP contacts the hospital I was born at, maybe they'll sort out the problem that my title and gender are different. At least for the next few years.

In truth, I feel better than I have for a while. I'd become used to my home life being horrible, to it being totally unbearable, but it isn't, not right now. I think I'll be okay, somehow. But then, I'm always okay.

I can find my way, I can go the distance.

It appears progress is being made.

A good friend offered to help me present more male (though after much deliberation I declined the offer to tone up my muscles and such, since this isn't about changing who I am, just making me feel comfortable, and I'm not sure that's the right method). Another stopped me protesting and told me they're getting me a binder, which will mean I'll have two, as I'd hoped, though I'll be unable to wear them at home. But still, good to know they're there.

And above all that, it seems I may have an appointment and I might be in luck. Over The Rainbow got back to me, saying they were really sorry about not replying, but they're being refurbished, and one of the team is going to be in my closest town most Mondays, and I'm going to be booked into an appointment next Monday.

It sounds promising, it really does. I might get somewhere with this.

I'm also going to have a haircut before I go to the appointment, partly funded by the friend buying me a binder who is far too kind and I don't deserve that much generosity.

I won't lie, it's partly to help me feel better and less dysphoric, but also to try to pass better at the clinic afterwards. They actually addressed me as Lorcan, and that is just... amazing.

And I'm trying to work up courage to ask the school to change my name, but we'll see about that one.