I’m so sick of my binder and dysphoria. I don’t even wear it all the time or anything, maybe 3 times a week.
Here’s how it goes:
Go on a run, feeling chest with every step.
Peel sweaty clothes off and get in shower. Look down at body and suddenly feel rather nauseous.
Get out of shower. Try to dry off while nauseous feeling increases.
Put on pants, brush teeth, towel dry hair. Organize bathroom to procrastinate putting on binder.
Look at watch. Oh shit.
Pull binder over head. Try to yank downward for 5 minutes.
Realize armpits are chafed and may or may not start bleeding.
Put on deodorant.
Realize chafed armpits and deodorant are a bad, painful combination.
Put on shirt and tuck in.
Realized chest has become un-adjusted to form unflattering uni-chest.
Untuck shirt. Readjust chest. Retuck shirt.
Go to work.
Inhale sharply and wonder who stabbed you in the back.
Look around and realize no one has a weapon.
Feel knife twist in back.
Crack back over chair.
Sigh with relief, even if just 5 seconds.
Feel rib start clicking.
Look at watch. 1 hour down, 4 to go.
Feel drips of sweat and check shirt.
Give anyone smiling a dirty look.
Wonder why people are ever happy.
Peel binder off and remember chafed armpits.
Catch reflection in window. Briefly consider investing in antiemetics.
Even if you get the right size and quality and everything. It still sucks. I can’t wait for winter.