My emotions have settled down to a dull roar. I just want to get everything over and done with. The surgery itself is making me nervous, not because of what it is, but because it's surgery, and there will be pain, and recovery time, and all the other stuff. Not to mention all the little things I have to do before time, that are making me crazy.
That's not to say that all my roaring emotions are negative. I'm starting to get excited for what it means for me. I've had a pretty dull past few months, in which there has been little apparent progress, and now I'm about to make a pretty big leap forward. It seems like there is little left except a couple more huge leaps forward, and then it's all done. I'm not quite sure what to make of that.
It's interesting how adaptable the mind is. Before I started this whole odyssey, I was accustomed to pretty much nothing happening, or a general state of discomfort and self-loathing. That was my world for a very long time, so that's what I was used to. Then I got to the point where I could not live in that world anymore. I started making changes, so that became my standard reality. Sometimes the changes came pretty fast and furious, and sometimes less so. I stretched and pulled at my boundaries so much during that time, I thought I might break them. That world was pretty stressful sometimes, but it has been a good experience. I have grown in ways I never thought possible, and made amazing progress to becoming the person I am supposed to be. And now things have settled down, and I'm getting close to some possible finishing points, so I'll have to move into yet another different world. That new world probably won't be as harrowing as the one where I've been, but instead it should be a much more emotionally satisfying place for me to live.
I had a conversation with J a couple days ago about one of my recent blog entries. I've been viewing this upcoming event as the first can't-go-back event of my journey, but he countered by saying that every little step along the way has been a small rubicon of its own. The day he and I sat in the restaurant eating our gyros, and I told him who I was and who I needed to be, is something I can never take back. The first time I ever put on a skirt and went to C and E's, I can't take that back either. Every bit of progress, no matter how simple or mundane, has changed me, and I can never go back to that person I was not so long ago. That world is completely foreign to me now, and I'm not sure how I ever tried to live there. The real truth, I think, is that I never really did live there; I was wandering around in a state of emotional homelessness.
So the point of this whole exercise seems to be to get myself to a place where I can feel at home inside my own heart. The problem is that I'm not really sure how that's supposed to feel. The only thing I do know for sure is that where I am now is different from where I was before. I'm going to have to think about that a bit more, and write a post about it.
dead trees give no shelter
2 hours ago