FTM Magazine Article

I am officially a published author...

Originally published on https://ftmmagazine.com/ (HERE) on 10 April 2017, the link is no longer active, so I am posting my article here:

Self-Harm, Transition...

It was never a choice. I did not one day decide to be a boy. One day I simply allowed my true self to come into being. | Erik Garkain

My body is scarred.

From my shoulders to fingertips, under my clothes, over my chest, my stomach and my legs – all support a tracery of scars inflicted through deliberate self-harm. Self-harm had been a way for me to release emotional pain and stress: the only way I could feel in control of my life.  It made me feel alive. It made me feel something, not just so disturbingly numb.

If you could see under my shirt, you’d see other scars too: surgical scars that helped salvage this life. I have two identical scars curving from my armpits to my sternum – double bilateral mastectomy with chest reconstruction; and, a horizontal 20cm scar underneath my belly, just above my pubic line – total hysterectomy with bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy.

Ten years ago I was living a completely different life. I was bordering on my 21st birthday, working with the elderly in an aged care hostel, and, at the beginning of what would become a five-year relationship of relative heteronormativity.

I was also a girl. I often wonder if my self-harm was a consequence of my latent gender dysphoria?

I was male on the inside. It was a feeling I hadn’t come to accept, or believe could be fact. I was carrying a weight that I’m sure rings familiar with anyone who has borne the confines of a closet. My ‘closet’ was an identity I had been taught, not one that was true. The hormones were wrong, my body was wrong; it had bits I couldn’t associate with, it did things that terrified and disgusted me.

Coming out was a challenge. I have always been shy. I don’t often speak up, even if I have something worthwhile to contribute, so, to come forward to the people in my life with something so personal, was a terrifying prospect. When you come out as trans, it immediately cultivates all sorts of unwanted and personal intrusions: Is it a sexual thing? Does that mean you’re gay, or straight? Do you like boys or girls now? Are you pre-op or post-op? What have you got ‘downstairs’? And my favourite: If you don’t have a penis, you’ll never be a ‘real’ guy. But I shouldn’t have worried. My family have always been supportive, my sisters – amazing. I don’t often give people a chance to be anything else. If they want me in their life, they will respect my choices.

Strangers are harder. Historically gays have been persecuted by just as much misunderstanding and judgment as the transgender community, but a lot of trans people feel ostracised in queer safe spaces, as if we don’t belong. A lot of the discrimination I have had has come directly from the gay community: My choosing to be male didn’t make it so because I would never have a penis.

It was never a choice. I did not one day decide to be a boy. One day I simply allowed my true self to come into being. I would never choose to become a second class citizen; to open myself to discrimination and hate with possible abandonment and rejection from family and friends; to jeopardise my job security; to lose the right to marry; or, risk ever finding a partner who could accept me… None of this is anything I would willingly choose. It was simply the next step of my existence, and it was always going to happen.

Looking back this past decade, to the start of my transition, the doubts were strong. But now I can see what I have achieved. Physically and mentally I am in the happiest place I have been. As each day passes, my confidence grows, and with it, strength to be who I really am, and that is a wonderful feeling. If I could go back, I wouldn’t change my journey, because changing that would change the essence of who I am. But perhaps some words of solace for the darkest of nights: You’re not weird, you’re not crazy, and these feelings, they won’t go away. Don’t listen to the people in your life that want to make you feel worthless. Don’t listen to the people who want to tell you who you should be. Listen to yourself. Only you know how you truly feel. And yes, at times it will be tough – out on that ledge, exposed to the world – but you need to be yourself. That is where your happiness is. You are better than you think you are. You are great, and people love you, for you.

Come Away With Me.

A review I just found for one of my short films, 'Come Away with Me'. 

From the MRC (Media Resource Centre) Lipsync magazine HERE. 

Review by Emily Brindal: 

"Come Away with Me is a dark tale of love between two selfdestructive gay men. While there is no rock ‘n’ roll, there is sex, drugs and self-harm. If there were a nice antonym for ‘light-hearted’, I would insert this word here. It is intense and unashamed in its intensity. The cinematography is beautiful and really engages the viewer in the story. It also adds tension which is at times lacking in the performances. Although overall the film is more serious than some may prefer, it achieves what it desires to – it confronts the viewer and asks them to consider the line between love and self-destruction."


You can watch my film HERE.

A taste of my novel to come...

I see body bags every day, this one, no different. That same plain blue becomes so monotonous, so easy to forget the contents; negating countless lives. The unzipping always takes me back to childhood days spent camping; that early morning surfacing from the tent, tearing the fly screen open to eagerly set out for a new day of adventure and exploration. Easy, care free days.

Inside this body bag was a dead girl.

It should have been no different, but seeing her tore a rusty nail through my heart. She was one of mine – one of the ‘freaks’.

Her tattooed body displayed bands I loved, logos I knew, artists I admired. She could have been my friend.

She could have been me.

Seeing her made the pain fresh, brought me to that moment, those final seconds of desperation as she stretched her neck into that noose. It was the most common way these days: hanging. So easy, almost everyone was doing it.

Through a latex barrier, I caressed her cold flesh, rippled by years of self-harm. A pain I was intimately familiar with. She was younger than me, by five or six years, but she was here. She was one of the ones who hadn’t made it. I’d tasted that pain almost every day and felt how easy the way out could be. Not the act, the temptation. How it grasped at the darkest part of your mind and suffocated you with it. No kind deed or happy face or friendly grin made its way through that jumbled web of grey: hatred so intensely self-destructive.

Her life, reduced to a report and a photo in a file. Her organs sampled in a pot with a label. Her, just a body on a trolley – a statistic on suicide.

Self-Harm and the Trans* Community

An estimated 40 to 50% of GLBTIQ (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Trans*, Intersex, Queer) people self-harm, or attempt suicide at least once in their lifetime.

National estimates suggest between 4 to 7% of Australian youth (aged 15 – 24 years) have engaged in self-harming behaviours. 63% of respondents of the Trans Mental Health Study 2012 (Study 2012) harmed more prior to transitioning, and only 3% after. Of these, 60% felt the reasons for self-harm related to being trans* either directly, or indirectly.

A recent Australian review of LGBTI mental health reported that 50% of trans* Australians had attempted suicide. This is almost identical to a UK study which suggested 48%. Suicidal ideation and attempts are more frequent pre-transition. One respondent said, "I feel as if I am always going to be different by the society around me, and either patronised as a ‘brave survivor’ or avoided as an incomprehensible alien artefact – never just treated as a person."

Self-harm reduces following transition for the majority of those who have a history of self-harm. "My feelings of self and worth, not to mention, my confidence has grown exponentially since coming out, and presenting male. I am not ashamed of myself anymore – it’s been a wonderful journey," said Azaria**, 31, Adelaide, SA. A respondent in the Study 2012 said, "I gained the guts to stop caring what other people thought about me. I wake up every day with a few billion people hating me just for existing, and it doesn’t matter."

The majority of trans* people feel that the way their community is represented in the media has a negative effect on their emotional wellbeing. "Tabloid stories about transpeople are often exploitative, invasive of privacy, inaccurate, irrelevant or intended to drum up transphobia." Just look at the Courier Mail reporting the death of Mayang Prastyo a couple of weeks ago. Insensitive, sensational headlines, and photos, described the trans* murder victim as ‘she-male’ and ‘lady boy’.

Transgender and gender diverse people are more likely to experience mental distress due to the social disapproval and discrimination they encounter in their daily lives. Their mental health status is disclosed by some, depending on their perceived reaction from doctors or health care professionals. According to Gender Disorder Information, ‘Some shrinks want to solve the other problems before they tackle the gender issues – but what if the gender issues are the likely source of the problem?’ Many trans* people will hide feelings of depression or self-harm in fear it will delay their transition.

Discrimination is one of the main factors influencing trans* mental health and self-harm. Abuse, discrimination and stress are all too common. Going Upstream (a framework for promoting the mental health of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex (LGBTI) people) suggests that 49% of LGBTI youth experience some form of abuse in childhood. The Study 2012 confirms this. ‘Once dysphoria is resolved via transition, all that remains is people’s attitudes. Once society stops discrimination against us, then it will be safe to say that being trans* is not a bad thing,’ participants said, ‘I am more comfortable with my appearance and who I am, but it also makes me very aware that others aren’t.’

From Writing Themselves in 3 2010, a national study of SSAIGD (Same Sex Attracted, Intersex, and Gender Diverse) people aged 14 – 24 years, has shown that 18% who have never been subjected to physical or verbal heterosexist abuse, had self-harmed. 31% had self-harmed after verbal abuse and 55% after physical heterosexist abuse. Data from 2013 Growing Up Queer suggests that 33% of young people have self-harmed after homophobic or transphobic abuse. ‘I was sexually abused as a child by a close relative… I was emotionally abused growing up, perhaps responsible for my self-esteem issues and confidence problems now,’ said Azaria.

According to the experience of many trans* people, healthcare services are "inadequate and staffed by uneducated workers, especially when gender issues are coupled with self-harm". Self-harm and ‘alternative’ lifestyles are still relatively taboo in our society. A high per cent of trans* people have reported feeling emotionally distressed about their mental health whilst attending a Gender Identity Clinic (GIC). 

These frustrations are just as common here in South Australia. Newly identifying trans* people are required to see Gender Clinic prior to transitioning. There is only one GIC in Adelaide, and no alternative other than travelling interstate for care. South Australian law is still abiding by the Sexual Reassignment Act, written in 1988. Obeying outdated rules and regulations in fear of archaic laws leaves no room for best professional practice and individualised care for trans* people.

I attended the ANZPATH conference, Adelaide October 4 - 6, and there the first seeds of developing a national voice for the Australian trans* community were established. This is exciting. It is a work in progress that is going to take time and commitment, but it is going to reap some fantastic steps forward for the trans* community, and the future of gender diverse people in Australia, and hopefully, the world.

**Name changed.