First of all I should preface this story by saying that I am having surgery in 10 days (December 22), so hopefully this nightmare is almost over. If the surgeon fucks it up my dad has promised that he will pay for any amount of surgery necessary to get the problem corrected. Despite the numerous problems in my life, I was lucky enough to be born with wealthy and supportive parents, so I am confident that my gyno will be fixed eventually. I just kind of want to reflect on how gyno has fucked up my life, and how hopefully I can move forward with things once I get this surgery done. This is mostly for me, but feel free to comment.
I have had gyno since I was eleven. By nature, I think, I am a handsome and outgoing guy. I am at ease around other dudes and I make friends easily (more like acquaintances, actually - I don't have many real friends). But around girls... oh god. I can't even think of anything to say because my mind is paralyzed by the thought that the girl is staring at my enormous breasts. I have kissed one goddamn girl in my whole life and I'm seventeen years old. This has caused a number of my friends to question my sexuality. I'm straight, I'm so fucking straight, but I just can't prove it to them and it rips at my soul.
But gyne hasn't just screwed up my sex life - it's screwed up my whole life. Like many of you, I hate myself. My family has a history of depression on both sides - my dad's brother killed himself and my mom's dad has lived a miserable, hopeless life because of his depression (and his man boobs - thanks grandpa). So, I would probably be somewhat depressed even if I didn't have gyno. But gyno has magnified the problem significantly. I am a bad friend - I let people down, I tell them the hard truth when they need a comforting lie, I sell people out when it benefits me. I alienate everyone I can because I think that if I project the image that I just don't care than people will respect me in some twisted way instead of pitying me. I have maybe two friends in my whole life who would shed a tear if I died tomorrow. I have also tried my hardest to alienate my family (rampant drug and alcohol use and generally just being an not a nice person) but my dad has always had my back and tried to help me so I think my family situation is okay. In terms of school... I do well. I'm not particularly intelligent, but I have a perfect memory and an ability to focus very hard. I attend one of the best private high schools in my state and I get all A's in the hardest classes and I'm going to an Ivy League college next fall. I'm not trying to brag, I'm just letting you guys know my whole story. A lot of times when I get really down and I think about pulling the trigger, I think about college and education and the fact that I have the opportunity to make a lot of money and be happy if I can just beat this fucking problem. This is probably the main reason that I'm not dead yet.
Basically, I have taken all of the problems in my life and blamed them on my man boobs. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not. If I get the surgery and everything is fixed, then I am going to be the happiest person on the planet. But if I get the surgery and I'm still miserable, or if for some reason the surgery fails... I don't know what I'm going to do. I guess there's always the easy way out but I'm too scared to die to actually take it. That's a good thing, I think. Hopefully everything works out and I get a girlfriend and get a good job and get married and life a great fucking life. But that seems so alien right now. If you read all of this, thank you and feel free to comment. 10 more fucking days.