The Trinity Documentation Project

On the turning away

2011-04-08T06:48:00.003-05:00

A wise person once said that we have friends for reasons, and for seasons, and for lifetimes. It seems that, with the new warm summer weather, my heart is entering a new season as well.

I have spent the last couple years on the periphery of a community of trans sisters, looking in. I have never been the life of the party, and have never enjoyed the spotlight, so lurking on the edge has been perfectly fine for me. I have added my two cents when I had something to add, and have enjoyed some sense of belonging - the first such feeling I have ever had in my life. And yet now, I find myself stepping away from that community, and turning in a different direction. I can't relate; I have nothing in common with most of them any longer.

Transition is a very different sort of experience from any other. As difficult as it is to understand while it's happening to oneself, looking in from the outside, I would guess that it is almost impossible to grasp. So, as the old saying goes, birds of a feather flock together. Transitioning people seek one another to try to make sense of what is going on. For better or worse, a community forms around this crazy moth-into-butterfly activity which we have undertaken.

And then once it is done, when the changes are complete, what then? The people with whom we have associated and bonded and confided and laughed and cried for those many months, many of them have very different desires and likes and lives. And if we take a closer look, we find that there isn't anything we have to talk about - we're different people, who have been thrown together by happenstance. The circumstances have changed, so there is nothing holding us together.

I've seen several trans people who have basically disappeared after they finished with all their surgeries and big changes. They are done, and they just want to get on with their lives. Blog entries and video blogs become more and more infrequent. Their interaction with their transitioning community slows and eventually stops. The thing that has driven them for so long, to undertake this dramatic life change, is gone. They just don't have much more to say.

This is where I now find myself. I have driven over the precipice and lived to tell about it, and yet I haven't the slightest desire to tell the story. I've already told it; it's here, for all to read. I don't need to think about it any longer. There is no more danger. My heart can rest, and I can breathe, and live, and just be.

The religion post

2011-01-01T15:20:00.007-06:00

Over the time that I've gotten to know other trans people over the interwebs, I've seen more than a few instances of my sisters being the recipients of some lashing by religious people in their lives. The typical argument has been that our heroine would reject God's plan for her life, and go down this other road. That got me to thinking, what if this is God's plan for her?

Before I go further, I feel I must set out the disclaimer that I am not a religious person in any way. I am only a long-time IT person, who has a lot of experience with working through logical systems and sets of rules. I went to church and Sunday school when I was younger, but some of more, shall we say, mythical aspects of the experience didn't really resonate with me. The morality and love and support parts, I'm all for those.

So anyway, we have this idea that God sets out a purpose for each of us. He's got a plan for you, for me, for all of us. And since he's all-powerful and all-knowing, he can come up with some pretty inscrutable plans. The way I always interpreted God from my church experiences, he seems to want to teach us. What he wants to teach, well, that almost surely varies from person to person. Maybe each one of us has one big challenge to overcome in our lives. Who knows? We just go about our lives, and do our thing, and handle the stuff that comes as best we can. And if we're lucky, we can have moments of insight, or maybe even, dare I say, enlightenment, as to what our lives are all about. Or we may never understand quite what it is that we are to do, but perhaps some are destined to improve the collective conscious in some way.

But is it too much of a stretch to think that maybe he makes some people trans, so that they can, perhaps, learn to love themselves? It's generally accepted that if one is to love others, one must first love oneself, and as I recall, there's a commandment or something exhorting us to love our neighbor. Spreading love throughout the world by offering a monumental personal challenge? That's a pretty darned clever way to go about it.

Then I started thinking out from there. What if my friends have been in some plan of God's to teach others? Like, God says, "ok, I know she's strong enough, and willing enough to handle this, so we're going to use her example to teach others." God's all about love - I think at one point Jesus declares the most important commandments to be love God and love your neighbor. That seems pretty straightforward to me; if we love everyone, then the world would be a pretty groovy place to be. So, ok, our heroine is a trans girl, and because of that, is unappreciated and unaccepted, if not hated, by a large number of people, simply because of who she is. Would God have made her a trans girl, made that the plan for this girl's life, simply to teach others how to love each other? Have her work as an instrument of his plan? Does God do things like that? Would he put narrow-minded and bigoted people around her, to try to teach them tolerance and love?

And that's not even mentioning the fact that none of us really know what God's plan might be. Those who would tell us that we're rejecting his plan... do they presume to know everything that's in God's mind? Seems like mostly a combination of narrow-mindedness and arrogance, and of not making of man in God's image, but rather remaking God in man's image.

I think there are more directions I can use to think about this. And, as I said, this isn't really my thing, but I know there are more than a few of you out there who think about these kinds of things a lot. I'm more than happy to have some discussion about this, and hear others' comments.

Time, time, time, see what's become of me

2010-11-16T20:40:00.003-06:00

It's pretty interesting how the circumstances in one's life can change so dramatically in such a short time. Short is relative, of course, but in the almost-two months since my previous post, I can barely recognize the life I used to lead.

Before, the internet was the most important thing in my day. Twitter, Flickr, Facebook, this blog, all my news feeds... that took up a lot of time, and yet it was very typical that I was all caught up with everything before lunchtime. I would then poke around for most of the rest of the day, talking to recruiters, working on various computer-related projects, but always in front of the machine, or close to it. I spent some time each day, possibly several hours, in Second Life, sometimes visiting with my friends, sometimes just exploring.

Now, just a couple short months later, my days are dramatically different. I moved to a new apartment. I began culinary school. I started seeing someone, and that relationship has blossomed quickly into something very special. The biggest change has been that I am rarely even in front of a computer any longer. Strangely enough, I don't especially miss it. I do miss the relationships that I have formed via the various social sites that used to fill my days. I feel like I'm neglecting those people - that I'm not being a very good friend. For a while, I did try to keep up with my Twitter people, but the traffic was just too fast, especially since I was only able to read at most once per day. If there's one thing I regret, it has been the loss of those connections.

I wonder sometimes what has made the transition from techno-nerd to a relatively tech-free existence so seamless. Perhaps the great number of other drastic changes in such a short time helped; there was so much going on, it was hard to focus on the changes in any one specific area.

Sometimes it feels like my old life is being completely erased. I feel like I'm even losing a little contact with some of the people in my day-to-day existence.

One thing that I've said to others in the past is that when one door closes, another opens. Perhaps this is just a series of doors closing and opening up for me all at the same time. Only time will tell how everything will turn out.

Not going to be That Girl...

2010-09-22T13:57:00.006-05:00

You know the one, she posts "OMG, I'm so sorry that I haven't been updating my blog very much lately, I promise that I will post all the time now!" And then she doesn't? I'm not going to be her. I'm just going to post when I have something to say, and if that turns out to be infrequently, then I just won't make a lot of posts. That doesn't mean that I won't beat myself up about it a little bit, it just means that you won't have to read about it. I'm looking out for you, dear readers.

I'm in a pretty serious transitional period right now. Funny, I thought I was all done with the transitional periods, now that most of my gender transition stuff is done. Not even close, it turns out.

All this new transition started with the loss of my job back at the end of May. My first thought was, of course, "not again", since my last period of unemployment lasted some seventeen months, and was, in a word, difficult. But that feeling of stress and loathing started to give way to something else. Something more positive. A feeling of relief. I didn't have to go back to that job anymore, but I also didn't necessarily have to go back to that career anymore. And, after a lot of thinking, I've decided that I will not. Next week, I start at culinary school, in the baking and pastry program.

It is said that the average adult changes her profession four times over the course of her career. This will be change number two for me. First, I was a programmer. Then, a system administrator. Soon, a pastry chef. After that, who knows? Restauranteur? Teacher? Maybe something even more different.

My new direction has me so excited for my future. I feel like I'm finally taking control of my life, and not settling any longer. The radical jump feels pretty... radical, but there is so much more potential for happiness, for me, in this direction. This has become my new mantra: always move toward happiness. There is so much discord and unhappiness in the world, and there has been so much in my life, that I've had enough of it. I will be the change that I would like to see in the world (thank you karmatic1110), and live my own example, and I will try to increase my happiness every day.

But as big and exciting as that is, that's not the biggest new thing. I've recently begun seeing someone. I had all but given up on even the possibility that I would find someone ever again, but managed to meet someone anyway. So far, we've been out six times, and things are going fantastically. I'm usually pretty private about my relationships, and I think I'll continue that for now, but I did want to at least mention it, because it's extremely positive, and she's a person who is bringing a great amount of happiness to my life.

Toward happiness!

The Wages of Privilege

2010-08-31T16:05:00.005-05:00

I've started this entry about five times now, and I keep getting frustrated with the overly-strident tone and finger-pointingness of it. I know there have been lots of different blogs and various other things written about privilege, or lack thereof. But it hadn't yet reared its ugly head in my life. Until now.

A friend had made an incredibly cissexist and transphobic comment, which I felt certain was just thoughtlessness on hir part. Zie had been friendly to me since before my physical transition had even begun. When I mentioned to hir that comments like that hurt all transpeople, zie blew me off. The sentiment was basically "I don't feel that I have hurt anyone, so therefore I haven't." I wouldn't have brought something like that up, if nobody was hurt. I was hurt. And I felt like, somehow, my feelings had become a non-consideration for hir.

So a series of unfollowings and emails ensued, and it appears that we are no longer friends. Any chance of reconciliation any time soon is pretty close to zero. And that's a shame, because it didn't have to happen.

I won't lie: I'm angry at the way things went down. I'm angry that it had to happen in the first place. But I'm most angry that zie seemed quite unwilling to consider my position. It seemed like the core of the whole thing was an unwillingness to consider the positions of privilege that were at work.

I've radically changed positions in my life. I started out at the top of the privilege heap: male, white, heterosexual. And I didn't do a thing to get those privileges; they were mine simply by accident of birth. Now that I've shifted so many of those categories, it's hard to know where I stand. I'm still white, but I'm now a woman - a transgender woman at that - and a lesbian. I have never before had to consider the role of privilege. I was so disconnected from everyone and everything, I'm not sure what, if anything, it would have meant to me anyway. I always felt like I existed as something of a ghost on the very edge of the world. But now the clarity with which privilege is making itself known to me... it's a little overwhelming. And more than a little disgusting.

So in my previous role, it would have been inconsequential to have made the same comment as my friend did. I was above all those categories - sexism, cissexism, transphobia. But now, having started to experience some of those things first hand, I can say that privilege is a millstone around the neck of society as a whole. Privileged and non-privileged alike are burdened by it. It's laziness, pure and simple. It eliminates the need to actually get to know someone before making a judgement about who they are. I would suggest that those on the lower end of the privilege curve might even have the capacity to be worse in preserving the disparity than those on top; they're downtrodden, so rather than be content with everybody standing on their neck, they might seek to push somebody down, so they don't have to live at the bottom of that curve.

The problem is that this makes the problem worse, not better. Those at the top of the heap can just watch all those underneath fight it out to not be the worst. But all it does is preserves the status quo. Those on top remain, and those on the bottom remain, and none are truly benefitted.

The core of the whole thing is respect. Respect is a funny thing, though. It functions best when it is given, rather than when it is received. And rather than being in a limited supply, the more respect that is given, the more that comes back, and the more one has to give to others. Everyone is uplifted, and nobody is diminished. The trick is that it's a chain, and any weak or broken link can make the whole thing fall apart. It's a practical example of an iterated prisoner's dilemma, and there is no consequence for defecting, especially for those who already have the power of their privilege. Power they acquired by doing nothing more dramatic than drawing breath.

Ridiculous quote aside, it seems a bit crazy that the true solution is for everyone to "be excellent to each other", but it really is just that simple. First we need to form a chain of respect that encompasses everyone. Then we need to just not break it. I don't know if human nature would ever allow us to do that, but we could do far worse than to strive for such an ideal.

Inflection point

2010-08-22T15:49:00.004-05:00

Seems like I've hit another big inflection point. Or maybe a couple of them, clumped right together.

I've long thought that the doctor who was originally managing my hormone replacement was not doing a very good job, so I found another doctor, and have seen him a couple times now. Our first visit was an extremely affirming experience, and it made me immediately glad that I had finally made a change. I saw him again a little over a week ago, for a six-week followup appointment, to see how things had changed or progressed.

He went over the results from my first blood tests, and described the main parts of interest. My testosterone level is 6.7, which is about what we would expect, he said, given my current physiology. My estradiol level was 80, which he said was very low; ideally it would be around 200. Levels of the two precursor hormones, FSH and LH, which are produced by the pituitary gland and signal the body to produce the main sex hormones, were very high. This indicated, the doctor said, that my body is not seeing enough sex hormones, and it was trying to spur my body to produce more. I don't have the right body parts to produce a whole lot of estrogen, of course, so what it actually indicated was that my hormone replacement dosages were too low. He had placed me on a different estrogen medication, which he hoped would increase the levels. This office visit was to confirm if this actually happened. So, he sent me over to the lab, and they drew the necessary blood, and off I went.

A few days later, I called back for the results. My estradiol level was apparently still very low, and the doctor wanted to double my dosage. Gulp! So, all this time, I've been on such a low dosage, and have had less-than-stellar development; I chalked that up to my being almost 40 years old, and my body just reacting less to the new hormones that were coursing through it. Everyone is different, of course, but it seems that older bodies typically react less-well to transition. But with this new information, it seems like my depression and nihilism might have been a side effect of my body trying to tell me something: more, please! So, ok, more estrogen.

It's only been a few days on the new dosage, so it's still really early to tell if I'm feeling different, or if I'll see another spurt of development. Maybe in a few weeks, I'll have a better idea.

The other big change is regarding my career. I've been working in the IT industry for many years now, and despite the fact that I am good at what I do, I just can't generate any interest for it any longer. I mean, like none.

Looking back, programming and system administration was something I sort of fell into. I had aptitude and ability, and it was something that I had done since I was a child, but there was never a desperate desire to do it. There are aspects of the job that I enjoyed: one must continually learn new things, and a lot of the job is governed by logical cause-and-effect. That is how I approach most things, so it seemed a perfect match.

All except that I don't care anymore. If I ever even did.

I like to make things. When I was little, my favorite toys were LEGO. Most of my current hobbies involve some sort of craft, and some act of creation. And as time goes on, the physical aspect of creation seems to have become more and more important; I enjoy photography, for example, but the modern moving-bits-around instead of standing in the dark and making something, seems too much like work to me.

And then there's another large aspect which never seemed important before: I like working with people, and it turns out that I like it when people are happy, and especially if I can make them happy with something I've done. Now, it seems like this aspect has grown more important than feeding my brain. I get excited when I know I'll have a chance to make someone happy, and I find myself drawn to doing that, as strongly as I've ever felt anything ever before. Here is that deep need, that desperate desire that I've always wondered if I had.

I keep feeling nudges here, and seeing signs there, and hearing people talking about change, and it seems like this is all conspiring to tell me something. Now is the time. Just as there was a time in which I had to say I will now become who I need to be, this seems like the time when I need to say I will now do what I need to do.

It is time to take another leap.

More family stuff

2010-08-15T01:35:00.001-05:00

I feel like I've been a bit of a broken record here, going on and on about the same thing. But, as a friend once said, it's hard to just talk about whatever, when there's something specific and important on your mind. Since most of my physical and social transition stuff is done, the only things that are left are sort of cleaning up around the edges. And my family stuff has been pretty messy, so that's what I've got to work on.

I had a long and productive conversation with my mom on Wednesday night. I originally went over because I just needed some comfort; my unemployment, which is continuing, is becoming way too much stress for me to handle by myself. Money, ever the evil that it has always been, is showing me a bad image of my future, unless I'm able to do something. What that something is, well, I'm not entirely sure. So I thought my mom might have some ideas, since she's really practical about things like this. I had some really basic ideas of things I might do, and she helped me sort of work out a rough plan.

Once that was all done, we sort of segued into other stuff; I asked about her recent vacation to her high school reunion, and her visits with the family who still lives there. After that ran down a bit, I told her that I had been corresponding with one of my cousins recently.

I had wished my cousin a happy birthday on facebook a month or two ago, and at the time he said that we should catch up soon. This week seemed to be the time. We traded several messages, and he relayed his complete support, which was such a wonderful change from what I've heard from many of the other family members. He also asked about who else on his side of the family knew about me; I guessed probably nobody. He suggested that all of them should be fine with my transition, and that I should just call them. I thought it might be a little weird for some random girl to call them and claim to be their former male cousin/nephew, so asked if he'd be willing to out me to them, which he was more than happy to do. He got back to me a day or so later, and said that everybody was accepting and glad that I was able to do what I needed to do. He also suggested that I follow up with a call to each, which I haven't done yet.

After relating this to my mother, she mentioned that my father had shown her the email I sent him last week, discussing my name change. This seemed to be a pretty big deal to me, that he would reach out to my mom with something like that, since my dad is usually pretty self-contained about such things. At that point, it seemed like a good opportunity to tell her about what was really in my heart. I told her that when she used my old name, and used 'he' and 'him', it hurt me every time. I went on a bit about the semi-rant I wrote a couple blog posts ago, and asked how she was unable to see the changes that I had made. She said that the changes were very clear to her. I told her that I didn't go through all this time and effort and expense, for nothing to happen. I'm her daughter now, and that carries some necessary changes with it. And through all the effort and expense, even though it has been the hardest thing I have ever done, the benefits so greatly outweigh any price I've had to pay, I would willingly and gladly pay that price again.

This past week, I've had a few moments which really made clear to me the purpose of my transition and the goals which I had hoped to accomplish. Before, I was in such a state of detachment, that I was rarely ever able to have even a moment when I felt comfortable. I can remember one fleeting time, ever. But since my transition has been done, I've had those moments pretty often. This past week, a friend was visiting from out of town, and one day we were planning to just spend time together at my house. I had gotten out of bed, put on clothes, brushed my hair and teeth, and gotten in the car to go get her from the hotel. I'm sure I looked exactly like somebody who had just woken up (since, y'know, I had), but at that moment, I had such a feeling of peace and contentment... It was so powerful. All I could do was smile. That feeling is worth any price.

I related that feeling to my mom, and I think that made a real impression. As I was sort of running out of steam, I said that it was probably impossible for any cis person to really understand what being transgender means, and that I didn't really need her to understand what I've been through, but that I just needed her to accept me as I am now - that's who I really am, and who I've always wanted to be.

We finished our talk well past midnight, which we haven't done ever. She seems more willing to let those new ideas take root; perhaps my passion helped convey just what all this means to me.

Mr. Postman

2010-07-28T01:25:00.003-05:00

Short update: the letter to my sister is written, and in the envelope. I dropped it into the mailbox just a short while ago, so it should probably arrive at her house by Thursday or Friday. After that, I'm not sure what I expect to happen. She could write back, or send an email, or even call. Or, she could do nothing.

I feel like the sending of this letter is a hopeful act, so I'll remain hopeful for the outcome.

Family

2010-07-15T18:37:00.005-05:00

I've been thinking about my family lately. I've spent the last months growing apart from them; they're not comfortable with the changes I've made in my life, and I have no patience for people who would hold me back or deny my identity. We definitely seem to be moving in different directions. And that is a shame.

I do keep talking to my parents; after all, they live a very short distance away, and they do at least seem willing to still be my parents. I'm still their child, and they don't seem willing to give up on that, for which I feel pretty grateful. I've heard too many stories about trans folks' parents completely giving up on them, or disowning them, and that just makes my skin crawl. But they're both unwilling to try out my name or the pronouns that are appropriate for my identity. And every time they do it, it's like a knife to my heart. I didn't go through all this effort and expense for no reason. I'm not and never really have been a he. I'm a she, and I will abide nothing and nobody who tries to take that away from me.

So, that is a continuing source of friction between us. I hope that it can be resolved in time, but how much time that might be, I can't even imagine. Old dogs have to want to learn new tricks, before they can actually learn them.

My sister, on the other hand... She's made it fairly clear that she wants nothing to do with me in my new identity. In one of our last communications, she said that she wanted to save her brother. The one who was a thin veneer over top of someone different. Façade. Artifice.

I do realize that I have upset her view of me, and in some ways, of the world. But it seems counterproductive to deny reality, rather than look around and try to figure out what is really going on. And try to decide how you would like to relate to that changed reality. The world changes every day, and it is up to each of us to handle those changes in whatever way we can.

My brother-in-law, when we had our short, horrible discussion before the Christmas holiday last year, said that my sister still wanted to have a relationship with me. He didn't say anything further than that, but from my reading of that comment, and our subsequent interaction (i.e. none), she seems to want a relationship with me on her terms - the old terms, which are no longer available. Now that I have unilaterally changed the terms of our interaction, she seems unwilling to accept those new terms. So, we have had no interaction.

I have a very small family. One sister, two parents, three cousins, two aunts, two uncles. There are further-removed family members, but I have only a fleeting idea that they exist, let alone who they are. So those family members who I do know are very precious, and when I lose one of them, that's a huge loss. And it seems like a big waste, all over something that really is small potatoes - a new name, and some new pronouns. That's learnable, and it's absolutely not rocket science. I have many friends, some who have known me for a very long time, who have successfully done it. And I've done it too - I've unlearned my old name such that it actually sounds really weird to me. So it doesn't seem like a huge imposition to ask my family to learn a new name for me.

And yet, there seems to be active resistance to doing it. My mom has commented that I would not understand what my old identity means to her. And I agree: I don't understand. But she seems to be unwilling to try to understand things from my perspective. I realize that transgenderism is a difficult idea to contemplate. But, I have presented the idea with as much clarity as I am able, and still they reject it, despite the fact that they see and hear me, and they have to realize that I am living in a different social role. They can't not realize that. I mean, there are some people who I've known for many years, who no longer recognize me. How much more clear could it be?

My parents know who I am now. They can see it, often. Whether or not they're willing to accept me is a question for another day. My sister, on the other hand, has not seen me or talked to me since Christmas, and is unlikely to see or talk to me anytime soon. So I think it's probably up to me to try again. I have been contemplating writing her a letter, snail-mail style, to let her know that I am still here, and she is still my family, and it would be pretty great if she could somehow talk to me again, as she once did. But the big difficulty is not rubbing her nose in anything, or making her feel foolish or stupid in any way. And I think that's why I haven't done anything about it yet - that's going to be very difficult, considering my current "I am me, and too bad if you don't like it" attitude. Perhaps just doing some free-writing, throwing words at a page and seeing what sticks, could work. Or at least get me moving in some direction at all.

State of the nation

2010-07-07T10:27:00.004-05:00

There is quite a bit going on, but nothing that can really warrant its own post. And given my lack of consistent posting in recent months, I thought I could just do a "state of the nation" post, as it were.

I just had a follow-up call with Dr. Zukowski, my facial surgeon. It has been four months since my surgery, and he was very happy with my progress, based on the photos I sent. He did say that there is still a lot of swelling along my jaw, which is completely normal, and will take another several months to disappear. I am to continue my massages, once per day, and he wants to talk to me again in another two months. I also mentioned that I would be coming through Chicago this weekend, and he jumped at the chance to possibly see me. I'm still working out details with the various people who are involved, but hopefully we'll be able to work everything out.

Speaking of being in Chicago, this weekend I am heading up to Wisconsin to visit with a bunch of Second Life friends. Last year's meetup was a super-fun weekend, and this year should be every bit as fun. I'm taking the Amtrak into Chicago, and my friend J will drive up the rest of the way with me. I really do love taking the train - it has become my favorite way to travel. As much as I love to drive, grinding out hundreds of miles in a straight line just loses its flavor after a couple hours, and a trip to Wisconsin is about 20 hours of driving each way. And my car is not a good road-trip car; 35-series tires are great in the corners and on the track, but are completely comfort-free on a long trip.

Last week, I had a follow-up call with my new endocrinologist, and he wanted to slightly increase my estrogen dosage, and also change the type of medication I was taking. I have been on estradiol for the duration of my HRT, and he changed me over to estropipate. He said it stays pretty consistent in the bloodstream for 24 hours, rather than spiking shortly after taking it, and decaying over the day, as with estradiol. Ok, sounds good.

It has not been roses and sunshine, however. My body is freaking out a little bit at the changes, and the past couple days have been pretty awful from a mood standpoint. It seems like I've been on the edge of tears for most of the past couple days. Today isn't too bad so far, so hopefully I'm getting used to the changes. Also, I seem to have a ravenous hunger, and have gained some weight, so I'll need to keep an eye on that.

Some of my depression is probably related to my facial hair too. I haven't been to see my electrologist in almost a month, and I needed an appointment last week. Unfortunately, she has been recovering from a stomach bug of some sort over the past week, so I won't be able to see her until next Wednesday. So, I just have to let it be, and try not to make myself crazy. So far, I'm failing pretty spectacularly at that.

The fact that I'm still looking for a job surely doesn't help either. The uncertainty is awful for me, as is the fact that most of the jobs I'm hearing about are contract - more uncertainty. I've had a number of phone interviews, and a couple face-to-face interviews, but nothing has come out of them. My severance has run out, so I applied for unemployment earlier this week. I really hope I don't need to spend much time on unemployment, but there's no telling. I also sent in my COBRA paperwork, so at least I'll be covered for health insurance.

So, the state of my particular microcosm could probably be summarized as "not fantastic". More bad than good, it seems like. Hopefully something will stabilize for me sometime soon. Thoughts of an ending have been trying to creep back in; I'm doing my best to keep them at bay, but they are relentless, and I don't want to have to go through making that decision again.

Doctors

2010-06-28T17:08:00.003-05:00

Specifically, new doctors. Or new-to-me doctors.

I went to see a new endocrinologist today, because I have not been happy with the care my previous doctor had been giving me with respect to my hormone replacement. I found the new doctor's name and contact information via the local transgender group's site. I had called about the appointment about a month ago, but today was the first available new-patient appointment slot they had. So, I had to wait.

So far, it seems that it was well worth the wait. I immediately felt at ease, and felt that he cared about me not as a problem to be solved, but as a patient, a person, to be cared for. We talked for several minutes about my path so far, after which he declared me to be a post-operative menopausal woman - so, in my current physical state, I am no different from a natal woman who has undergone a hysterectomy. Then he actually looked at me, to see how things were going. Just basic exam type stuff: reflexes, pulse, and listening to my heart and lungs. The other guy never even did that. He also asked to look at my breasts, and noted that the development so far was good, and that the tissue was all breast tissue, and not much fat. So, there is apparently more growth to be done. I can not even begin to convey how excited I was to hear that! He also said that a majority of trans women these days have enough breast growth that they do not need breast implants, as opposed to the 1970s when he began his practice. Also good news!

We went back into his office, and he asked a bunch more questions about my medical history, my family history, and I told him about my depression. We talked about that for a good while, and we both agreed that getting my hormone levels figured out was probably the best (and simplest) first step, which might make other more drastic treatments unnecessary. He described some of the ways the various hormones interact and how they affect the brain, and some of the basic diagnostic tools that are available. I asked a few questions, and he answered them at length. All the while, he was taking lots of notes, but at no time did I feel like he was not paying absolute attention to me.

Once we got done talking, he said that he wanted to take some blood and run some tests on it for hormone levels, and that the results would be ready by Thursday. They drew the blood in another part of the office, and after I took some of it to another lab in the same building, I was done.

I had an extremely positive first experience with the new doctor, and he seems very committed to giving me excellent care. And not just physical care, emotional care as well. It's very obvious to me that he cares about his patients very much, and I'm glad I was finally able to see him. A little bit of hope has trickled into my heart.

Big surgeries

2010-06-27T23:44:00.004-05:00

It seems like a lot of trans girls with whom I am acquainted are talking and thinking about their various surgeries, particularly the Big Surgery. I've been thinking about it a lot, and... I'm not sure what to think.

It's something that hasn't been on my radar. Like at all. I've just never really had a whole lot of interest in it. But now hearing so many people talk about it, and reading blogs about it, and watching videos about it, and seeing television programs about it, and knowing a few girls who have recently gone through it, it's on my mind. I really don't want to say what is on my mind now, because it doesn't paint a nice picture, but it's how I'm feeling.

I'm feeling pressure to conform.

Nothing overt, certainly. I know that each of us is very clear that every girl's journey is her own, and no two are required to be alike. We all share many similarities, of course, since our respective goals run along the same lines. But all the same, it feels like there's an expectation there. That's one of the things that I'm "supposed" to do, to take that final step. But what is the real source of that pressure? Despite never having interest before, I'm wondering if that's something that I should think about, something that I do need.

It's got me doubting myself. Have I been living under this false assumption all along, that I won't feel completed until I walk across that bridge? Is this something that I really do want, but that I never even knew about?

I've known for a long time who I was. I didn't want to admit it to myself, or to other people, but eventually the anguish just got too much to handle, and I had to move. But nothing was terribly surprising. It was all there, the whole time. But now this new wrinkle seems to be coming out of nowhere, catching me completely off guard.

I've had two surgeries already. The first was not too bad; both the surgery itself and the recovery were quick and reasonably painless. The other has been a long road. The results are very good, but if I had known then what I know now, I may not have gone as far with it as I did. And now I'm wondering if I need yet another surgery? One that I never anticipated?

I'm spooked, I'm scared, and I'm confused. I've already hit a "what now?" point - I've got a fairly strong suspicion that this awful bout of depression from which I may be emerging, is a direct result of that "what now?" feeling - and now I'm wondering if there isn't more to come. Or is it just the depression talking? Am I manufacturing this as a possible route out from under this huge weight?

I can't relate to many of my trans sisters, because I can't talk to them about it. I don't know about it, because I haven't thought that I would go that route. And I can't share their anticipation and joy. Sometimes, I even feel some anger at them. Why must they rub my nose in it? But when those thoughts come, I have to wonder why I feel like they're rubbing my nose in it, even at the same time that I realize they aren't, but just want to share their hopes and dreams with me. This is the part that hurts the most; it once again puts me on the outside of a group to which I rightly belong. I've been fighting against that my whole life, and now it's happening again.

I don't think I'm gaining much insight from writing this tonight, but sometimes it helps to just get some words out.

A crisis of "faith"?

2010-06-12T10:09:00.003-05:00

I am currently out of work, and looking for a new job. Looking for work is never fun, since it can easily turn into a seemingly-endless gauntlet of negative affirmations that "you're not good enough". That takes a tremendous toll on any person, no matter how well adjusted they are.

And apart from that aspect, there's finding something that would actually make you happy, that would make you excited to spend a large part of your life doing. There are a lot of jobs out there, at lots of different companies, with different management and work styles, and finding that precious golden needle in a stack of needles... that can cause a bit of anxiety. Am I looking in the right place? Is this company going to treat me well? Will I get along with my manager and coworkers? Am I going to be able to do this job for the next several years? Or the most important one: is this really what I want to do when I grow up?

I've been doing system administration for the past several years, in various capacities. That kind of job attracted me initially because there seemed to be an infinite variety of tasks which fell under the job description, and on any given day, I would get to do something completely different than what I was doing yesterday. It would keep things interesting, for sure, and there would be great opportunity to expand my knowledge and skills almost without limit.

And exactly as I had hoped, I do have a wide array of skills and abilities at my command. I have had the great fortune to work in some diverse companies, which were using a wide variety of different equipment, in a wide variety of different ways. Some of those companies were not shy about trying new things, and looking in different directions to accomplish their goals, and I was lucky to be able to participate in choosing those new directions and helping to shape the environment in which I worked. I recently acquired a professional certification for which my knowledge of the subject was such that I was able to pass the exam without even studying.

Despite my success, the reality of the situation has come crashing down upon me. Most companies don't actually want people to do a wide variety of things, and they are not interested in letting people expand themselves to take on other tasks; they want people who do one thing, and they want them to do that one thing in a prescribed way. They want cogs. They want limited-use, replaceable, discardable, faceless, nameless, interchangeable nobodies.

It's no longer "personnel", it's "human resources". We're no longer people, who have feelings and families and dogs and lives, we're resources to be used up and thrown away. In my particular job, I'm often treated exactly the same as the machines which I manage - expected to be working and productive 24 hours per day, all the time, never break down, never require maintenance, and take on an ever-increasing workload with no additional resources. To the contrary, both the machines and I need downtime, we need maintenance, and we have needs which must be fulfilled. We have limits which must be observed. When those limits are inevitably surpassed, bad things start to occur. Breakage, sometimes catastrophic, is common in overtaxed systems, and in overtaxed people.

I think I may have suffered the ultimate, critical, catastrophic failure. Finding another system admin job feels like it would destroy me, utterly and irrevocably.

I can't just leave IT and do something else, because that would mean I would lose my earning power, and be forced to start from square one, making entry-level pay. Not only that, but starting any new career fresh would probably mean going back to doing entry-level work, and there's a lot of entry-level work out there that, truth be told, is just the mind-numbing work that nobody else wants to do. It gets shifted onto the people who need the experience, and are willing to endure quite a bit of indignity simply to establish themselves in their industry, whatever that industry might be.

The problem is that I've been there, and I've done that, and I am unwilling to go down that road again. I am not as young as I once was, and I can't play those young-persons' games anymore. But I am smart, and I can learn new things, and I have experience simply being out in the working world.

I had a conversation with C yesterday, during which he brought up an idea which I've had percolating in the back of my mind for some time now: try something related, but not exactly the same. Programming, perhaps. After thinking of what that would mean, I came to the realization that most of my hobbies involve creating something. Programmers create new things, out of mere thought. I have worked as a programmer in the past. A large part of working as a system administrator, at least the way that I approach the job, involves writing new tools to accomplish various tasks. Programming. Creation. This aspect of my past jobs has always brought me the greatest happiness.

My first job in the IT industry was as a programmer. When I cast my mind back, I realize that what made me want to leave the job wasn't that I disliked the work, it was that I disliked the way the company was run, and the way I was treated. Creating new things was a great reward, and a great source of fun and of satisfaction and happiness.

So all this rumination raises the question: have I actually figured out what I want to be when I grow up?

Working, or not

2010-06-03T22:55:00.004-05:00

Last post was pretty scary, not only to read (I would imagine), but also to post. That's not a good way to feel, ever. But I've gotten some nice support in some unlikely places, and though I don't know that it's helped per se, just knowing that others are going through similar stuff offers a little bit of comfort. I'm not nearly out of the woods on that, but I've got a plan of sorts. It'll just take some time.

The latest development: I lost my job last Thursday. It wasn't because of my transness, it was because I didn't like the job, and didn't do a super-great job at it. But despite the relief at not having to go back there, there is now the stress of having to find a new job. And not only that, I get to go through the interviewing process in a whole new role.

So far it's been... just another day. I've had one interview on this current job search, and it seemed to go really well. I was able to answer all the interviewers' questions but one, and they seemed happy with my answers. I'm hopeful, but I did also post my resume on a couple of the major job sites this afternoon. More chances is always better than less.

A bit of a rant

2010-05-23T10:28:00.003-05:00

My friend K recently emailed to comment that I hadn't written a blog entry in a while, despite the fact that I have twittered about working on a couple posts. And I'd imagine he's not the only one who's curious about my silence, so I thought I would post a sanitized version of it here, for all to read.

The crushing depression has returned.

I have no energy or motivation to do anything. Half the time, I'm on the edge of tears, for no apparent reason. When at work, I go into this auto-pilot mode, and once I leave, it's all a blur. I have all these things that I want or need to do, but can't summon the energy to do any of them. I have piles of dirty laundry sitting around, and can't be bothered to start up the washing machine. I have piles of mail that I desperately want to GO AWAY, and I can't find a way to start cleaning them up. I didn't even file my taxes this year, because I didn't get all the information I needed, and just can't get the motivation to call the people I need to call to get the appropriate information. That's something that could really cause some serious trouble, and I just can't bring myself to care. My twice-daily massages, I am lucky if I actually complete one over a two-day period. I need to make a whole bunch of phone calls to various people and agencies; some regarding name-changes, some to doctors, and others. One of the big ones is to another endocrinologist, who might be able to help with the depression - if my hormone levels are out of whack, adjusting them could dramatically help. The doctor who is currently "managing" my hormones, isn't doing a thing. I've tried to talk to him about it, but he poo-poos my questions. My therapist keeps challenging me "oh why didn't you blahblah" about it, and I'm sick of going to her office only to be scolded for 45 minutes, and paying for that dubious privilege. I'm strongly considering cancelling the appointment that I have with her on Tuesday because I don't want to go through that yet again.

And on top of all that, I go home to the den of squalor that is my apartment every night (which also causes me plenty of stress, since I just can't get the energy to do anything about it), and sit there BY MYSELF. The only single, non-kids-having friends I have are you and L, and you both might as well live on the opposite end of the planet from me. We can't just visit on a moment's notice. Couple that with the treatment I am receiving at work: nobody talks to me anymore, unless they need something from me. I realize that things have changed, but they have not changed that much. I feel like this pariah or something.

And when I'm home alone, sitting staring at the wall, wishing for this all to go away, I can't even get excited about things that I really do love to do. I bake seldom anymore, and rarely practice my drums, and haven't been on the bike in literally months. I've got two half-done sewing projects sitting out, neither of which I've touched in weeks. I have a project car sitting in my garage that I'm strongly tempted to wheel out into the courtyard and SET ON FIRE, just so it will go away.

I'm just so sick of all this, but I feel like it's impossible to start crawling up out of this morass. At this point, it feels like this parasite that just won't die. I am so close to just giving up, but I can't do that. I didn't give up before, so I can't now.

Letter to my Congressman

2010-04-30T10:41:00.005-05:00

The debate over ENDA, the Emploment Non-Discrimination Act, is heating up. Fundamentalist groups are spewing their hateful, panicked rhetoric. LGBT groups are preaching equality for all. Since I'm part of the latter, by definition, I felt that I should try to do my small part to help the cause which will directly benefit me. I composed a message to send to my representative, John Culberson, who is on record as saying that he believes trans-ness is a choice.

I am writing to you today to urge you to vote YES on HR 3017, the Employment Non-Discrimination Act.

I am a transgender person. I am also a citizen. My fellow transgender people and I are routinely denied our rights as citizens, for no valid reason. We face discrimination for jobs, housing, and medical services, as a matter of course. We face violence and murder, simply because we must live in this society which condones such behaviour. Passase of ENDA will send a clear message, not only to employers, but to all people, that this sort of blanket discrimination will not be tolerated.

There are several very vocal groups who are trying to sow fear about transgender people, suggesting that the restrooms of America will no longer be safe. I can state categorically that these fears are unfounded. Transgender people need to answer nature's call just like anyone else, and forcing them to use a restroom which doesn't match their outward identity exposes everyone to risk. There are people in society who might escalate such a situation with violence.

The purpose of HR 3017 is to level the playing field for Americans. We are a country founded on the ideal of equality for all, and this bill will enhance that equality. I strongly urge you to vote YES on this bill.

Thank you for your time.

Hopefully he'll read and understand, and more importantly, vote yes.

Recovery progress

2010-04-25T21:31:00.003-05:00

I had a follow-up call with Dr. Zukowski this past Wednesday. So far, he's happy with the progress he's seeing, and he has assured me that I'm doing well with my recovery. Some very good things came out of this week's call.

First, and most important: I only have to massage twice a day, instead of three times. I was so excited when he told me that. The massages are becoming a lot easier to bear, as the pain levels have gone way down in the past couple weeks. But each one still ends up taking the better part of an hour, and it's a bit of a hassle to shoehorn one into my workday. Now that I don't have to worry about them other than when I wake up, and sometime after I get home for the evening is a big weight off my shoulders.

Up to now, I have been wearing the support garment when I was at home. It had gone from a major hassle to a nuisance, though it may have played a part in a couple of brief blackouts I had. Dr. Z said I didn't need to wear it at all anymore. That simplifies my maintenance a good bit, and it should also help my skin recover - I've had some really dry patches under where the garment laid across my cheeks.

I asked about the low-sodium diet I've been on, and he said that I could probably go back to eating about whatever I wanted, except for super-super salty foods. I specifically asked about pizza, and he said it is back on the menu! It's been so nice to eat foods that taste like something for the past few days. I've missed them so!

One new part is that he wants me to begin using minoxidil along my hairline incision, to try to kickstart the hair there to start growing again. I haven't gotten to the pharmacy to get the medication yet, but plan to do that tomorrow evening.

He wants to talk to me again in two months, so I'll be on my current recovery regimen for at least that much longer. It's much more livable and less intrusive than it was previously. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as it once did, and I'm starting to see a lot of progress as a result of my efforts, so it doesn't feel like nearly as much of a burden now.

On a purely nuts-and-bolts level, the swelling is down quite a bit now. I'm starting to see a bit of definition in my cheeks, and my jawline is starting to show hints of... something. The sutures in my under-nose incision have stopped coming out, so I think they've all either dissolved or I've pulled them out. There are still some sutures hanging out in my nose, but they are coming out bit by bit. A few more sutures are poking through my hairline incision, but they're being a bit more tenacious than the others. The major incision lines have faded quite a bit, to my eye, and hurt quite a bit less when I massage them. My skin is getting back into good shape, since I'm able to moisturize consistently. Feeling is coming back slowly. Most of the still-numb part of my scalp itches constantly, and it's having hints of feeling. My lower lip is starting to get hot/cold feeling back, though when it gets a sensation, it pushes that sensation to a large part of my chin. So rather than not knowing what's going on when eating or drinking, it feels like I'm drooling all over myself whenever I put something in my mouth. It's terribly disconcerting. But it's progress.

Home again, for the first time

2010-04-24T15:32:00.005-05:00

Over the past few weeks, I've been back at work, getting back into the groove of living life. March's convalescence was not a fun experience, and certainly not one that I'd like to repeat. But getting back to a more normal existence has been very comforting. I'm in a far better emotional space than I have been.

Yesterday, I went to a going-away party for my oldest friend K. He recently got a new job, and he needs to move another state for it. The party was basically just family and very close friends of the family, though of the few friends-of-family who had been invited, I was the only one who attended. Most everyone there knew about me, though I hadn't seen most of them since early February, so it was a bit of a new experience for almost everyone. A few took a good look when I first arrived, but most were very cool about me. I just chatted with everyone, just like I normally would. After the mosquitoes chased me inside, I sat with V for quite some time, talking about a bunch of different things. It was a low-key get-together, which is pretty typical for that crowd, and I enjoyed myself and everyone's company immensely.

A few people paid me some lovely compliments, which felt really nice. One was having a bit of trouble, and though he did apologize, that didn't feel quite so nice. One of the younger ones took a good long look when she first saw me, which was a bit unnerving. I wanted to talk to her a little, but I didn't really get a chance; that will have to wait for another time. One of the few who didn't know a thing about my transition didn't recognize me. Somebody related that she commented that me-as-guy would like me-as-girl, since we were a lot alike. When she was told that we were the same person, she apparently didn't even bat an eyelash. So after all was done, it was a very fun and affirming experience.

I think some of the discomfort I've been feeling has been my percieved lack of a safety net. I am still within the first month of really being out in the world, so this is all still very new to me. I haven't really had much of an idea what to expect. My forays out into the world before had been limited, and there was almost always somebody there with me, as a bit of a security blanket or safety net, who could step in and help if necessary. And now I am discovering that I don't seem to really need that safety net - even people who have long considered me as a part of their family don't recognize me, and don't read me at all. That's helping a lot of that baseline anxiety to simply evaporate. In its place, I am starting to feel a general sense of comfort, and I am finally starting feel at home in my own skin.

Wallowing, or How not to go about a surgical recovery

2010-04-11T16:00:00.003-05:00

It's a difficult thing to pull yourself up out of the muck. My previous post, while there was a small bit of hope in there, was still heavily colored by despair. There have been a few noteworthy things that have happened since then, but I couldn't find the words to write about them, or the enthusiasm to even try.

This past Monday, I went back to work. The going-back part was almost as much of a non-issue as it could have possibly been. All my coworkers have made a great effort to getting name and pronouns right, and everyone has been doing really well. It has also started getting me back into a better rhythm for my days, and has given me something to think about and do other than focus on myself and my situation. After a week of being back, it's starting to get there. My sleep schedule is still out of whack, and I know from lots of past experience that it will take some time to get back in sync.

Physically, I'm doing reasonably well. I'm spending a lot of time without the support garment, which I do not have to wear while at work, and it's not nearly as uncomfortable as I expected. The massages continue, three blessed times each and every day. They are starting to get less uncomfortable, and I am seeing some progress, particularly on the hairline incision. The problem is that I'm past sick of doing them, and when it's time, I still put them off. That often pushes the evening massage until far later than it should be, which is another part of the sleep schedule problem. There is a bit of an end coming in a few weeks; at the two-month mark, I should be able to drop to only once per day. Until then, the torture must continue. The cleaning that goes along with the massage is almost becoming pro forma. There are still a few tails of sutures in my nose, and some tiny pieces poking to the surface underneath my nose, but there have been no scabs for weeks. All the cleaning and massaging does tend to rob the moisture from my skin, so I'm having to be very conscientious about moisturizing.

There are still large areas of my face and head which have no feeling. There are few signs that the front half of my scalp will be coming back any time soon, other than the fact that there are some itchy spots in the middle of the numbness. Of course, those spots are still numb, so scratching them is an exercise in futility. My lower lip has some temperature sensitivity, though it's kind of weird. When I get some cold or hot on the inside of my lip, my entire chin feels that sensation. I'm constantly having to check whether I'm dribbling whatever it is that I'm eating. I am starting to get back a little bit more muscle control in my lips and jaw too.

The swelling is probably much lower, though it's very difficult for me to see. C and K both commented on Friday that they were starting to see my cheekbones again. I do feel much less squishy when doing my massages, but whenever I look in a mirror, it still looks like the bottom half of my face has been taken over by a balloon. That will likely fade away slowly, and my jaw will eventually become jaw-shaped again.

The challenge is not focusing on the here-and-now, and not getting too discouraged. I am failing to do either, and as a result, I feel like a disgusting troll most of the time, and I feel like it will never end. I got a very appropriate fortune out of a fortune cookie the other day. It said "right now, you need to be patient." Sigh.

Possibilities

2010-03-25T02:15:00.004-05:00

I've been in the worst head-space over the past few days. I'm finally home again, free of the chemical fence that's been keeping me away. But that sense of relief at being able to be in my own place has given way to some of the loneliness that I experienced after my previous surgery, in the few days' recovery period that went along with it. I have felt like my progress has been zero at the very best, or more negative. I've felt like I'll never look normal or feel normal again. A pretty profound sense of regret. Yes, regret.

For something that has been lurking on my personal horizon since basically the very beginning, I've found that part especially disheartening. I've spent my entire savings, plus some. I've gone to another city, and dragged someone else along with me for almost two weeks. I put them through that experience, which, at times, I imagine might have been a little terrifying. And I have been in pain, both physical and emotional, ever since. And I have been regretting doing it. I could have saved myself and others an immense amount of time, money, and trouble if I hadn't gone and done this reckless, crazy thing.

The pain and recovery period so far has been categorically awful. It's entirely possible, even probable, that I went into this surgery with unrealistic expectations. I was seeing the magical end product, at the other end of a long, dark tunnel, and not even realizing that there was a long, dark tunnel to begin with. The zero-or-negative progress part. The shocking-loss-of-strength-and-coordination part. The "you want me to do what to these wounds on my face?!" part. Long and dark.

Tonight, as is my custom for most Wednesdays, I went to C & E's for dinner. I knew that the mere presence of people would at least help, so even though I was absolutely not interested in expending the energy to shower and put on clothes and get out and drive the car, that I had to do it. It was that, or sink into the madness that was beginning to clutch at me.

I've often believed that the absolute worst way to view something that was changing, was from the middle of it. One too often gets focused on the micro-changes that are happening all the time, and usually can not see the broader changes, over time. And that's another part of the zero-or-negative progress thing, too. Macro-changes do happen, but we often can't notice them, because perhaps we're not looking, or we're looking in the wrong place. We're used to one view, and can't figure out how to switch to another. Or we can't realize that we need to switch to another view.

E was the first to remark on the most obvious changes she saw in me. Come to think about it, she was the only to comment. The young children don't consider such things, and C... our relationship lives in a bit different place than that. E's pretty concrete about things, very practical. C seems to live inside his head a lot more. But E's comment, if it didn't pop that bubble of zero-or-negative, at least put a big hole in the side of it. And it wasn't even immediate; it took some time for it to sink in, and then it took a quick look in the mirror as I was doing my second massage of the day after we finished eating.

Wonder of wonders, there was a human looking back at me, for once. Not a collection of "oh that spot hurts" and "can I get some feeling there sometime soon?" and "that looks terrible" and especially "is that doctor serious?!" She's still a little rough around the edges, that human peering out of the mirror, but there's somebody there. Or there's possibility there, at least. My view has been shifted enough to allow for the possible, instead of merely the present.

I'm sure that I'm not out of the woods of self-doubt yet, but perhaps I can see a glimmer of daylight from the edge.

Back on track?

2010-03-20T01:03:00.004-05:00

Seems like after those first few days of this week, that things are starting to fall back into place. My self-maintenance items (massaging, basically, since Dr. Z said I could discontinue all the peroxide and triple-antibiotic cream stuff) have fallen into a tentative schedule. I'd like to work it a bit earlier in the day, since staying up to maul my tender face until after midnight is for the birds. But since it's not really hurting so much as just being uncomfortable, I don't dread it quite as much as I have been.

I continue to feel weird twinges in different parts of my head, mostly the front of my scalp, which remains partially without feeling. I was poking around earlier this evening, and it seems that the numb part has shrunk since I really spent time probing around to see where feeling started. The chin and lower lip are still being stubborn; the whole chin, and especially along my jawline, is constantly tingly and feels strange. I'm taking it to mean that nerves are starting to wake back up, but I really wish they'd just get on with it. I also felt some itching in a still-numb area of my lip during this evening's massage, so I'm hoping that means a return of some sort of feeling beyond the pins-and-needles pain I'm getting so far. Dribbling while drinking is starting to get a little old, and brushing my teeth down in front still concerns me a little bit, since I can't feel anything that's happening.

I told my mother this afternoon that I'd like to move back into my own apartment starting next week, and she tentatively agreed. The tacit understanding was that once I was off all the pain meds, of which I've taken none for a couple days, that I was probably much more ready to be on my own again.

I also went for a fairly typical Friday evening with C & E and K, who generously ferried me around this evening. As the doctor said, doing typical things can really help with the post-surgery funk, and so far it seems like he's exactly right. Even though I'm still fairly low-energy and my endurance is pretty pathetic, it's got me back into a good state of mind, and is giving me a much better outlook on the near future. Things were feeling pretty bleak and never-ending for a while there, but now I'm actually feeling a little... hopeful?

But on a bit sillier note, I'm typing away with "Rock Star Pink" nails tonight. E was doing her daughters' nails, and just started doing mine when she had finished with all the little ones'. So I'm all glittery and pink, and it's completely silly. I'm going to be getting glitter everywhere. But, y'know, it's a thing, so I'll just go with it. My mother will probably lose it when she sees them, which may be kind of amusing.

But at any rate, final massage of the day is done, I have nothing further required of me for today, and I'm about to pass out from exhaustion. I think I'll just go ahead and do that.

Post-surgical funk

2010-03-17T14:57:00.004-05:00

And I'm not talking about that cool, hip-shaking kind of funk either. This is the down-and-dirty, lie-in-bed-and-wish-for-death, cry-and-feel-like-you'll-never-stop kind of funk. And it's descended upon me.

Both Dr. Zukowski, my surgeon, and Elaine, one of the nurses, warned both me and C that we could expect something like this. A couple weeks into the recovery, and it seems like not much is happening, and things just head south. With rapidity.

Sunday was the worst so far. I woke up looking like a balloon, swollen way beyond what I had been the day before, and felt like I was about 10 or 5000 steps behind where I had been. There were a lot of tears that day. My mom just kept being a mom, and trying to engage me to eat, and trying to generate a little enthusiasm for doing my maintenance stuff. She managed to get me through, and I think I probably just listened to music and twittered and surfed the 'tubes all afternoon. Then Monday when I woke up, the swelling had gone way down, and things seemed to be back on track.

Monday seemed fine. I went to my therapist's office for the first time since late January, with my mother no less. That was a really productive session, I thought, so that day ended on a pretty good note. I was tired from the being out and moving around, but I felt pretty satisfied.

Tuesday was less than fine. Swelling was down further, and the day seemed to start off well. Dinner time rolled around, and I had disintegrated to the point where I had no interest in eating, or doing much of anything other than crying. I ate probably half of what I had been given, and went back to bed, where I proceeded to sleep for about 14 hours.

This morning, once I woke up, things were still not all roses and sunshine. I had an early surgical follow-up call with Dr. Z, and he assured me that everything that's going on, both physically and emotionally, is very very normal. We talked a little about some of the weird tingling and sensations I've been having, and he assured me that they were good signs, that full sensation is slowly coming back to those areas. He also said I could stop the thrice-daily cleaning sessions (yaay!), but reiterated that the thrice-daily massage sessions were still very important (ugh). So the morning was not too bad.

After lunch, which was delicious and I had exactly zero interest in eating, the tears started again. The suggestions of both Dr. Z and Elaine were to do something usual. Well, I thought maybe just lounging around at my apartment might help; other than being at work, that's probably the thing I do most frequently. I could poke with my computers, or marvel at my piles of mail, or watch a video, or something simple and dumb and usual.

I've been at my own house for something less than a half hour since February. That's two and a half weeks. I'm a bit of a homebody, and I get twitchy when I'm not able to be home for a while. Vacations are not especially relaxing for me, simply because I'm not home. And my folks' house, as close as it is, isn't my house any longer.

So I'm blogging from the big computer downstairs, and the clack-tronic Model-M keyboard, and the normal chair, and other than the weird sensations returning to my head, it is helping. It feels astonishingly normal, almost just like any other day off from work. I'm ripping a couple CDs down to MP3s. It's about time for me to massage my face for the afternoon, which isn't quite typical, but I could probably wander upstairs, park myself on the couch in video-watching position, put on a video, do my massaging, and even that might be pretty normal too.

At least the tears have stopped, and don't feel like they're threatening to return.

Getting better all the time

2010-03-11T15:16:00.003-06:00

It must be month of lyrically-referencing blog titles or something for me. Whatever the reason, it seems to be working. Music seems to be having some pretty strong effects on me these days, so I'll just go with it.

Recovery is humming along. I'm installed at my parents' house, and my mom is doting a bit. She's being very creative with food ideas, and going to a lot of effort on my behalf, for which I'm very grateful. Hydration is my personal paramount importance, and of course getting good nourishment so my body will have the energy it needs to do the repair it needs to do. Time periods between pain pills is starting to stretch out a bit, which makes me feel a lot more confident in how things are going. My face is still fairly swollen, and my jaw becomes uncomfortable fairly quickly when I'm not wearing my "hat" (my name for the support garment that I wear on my head). When I'm able to relax, and have had a nice meal, and am well hydrated, I feel about as comfortable as I figure it's possible for me to feel right now. I'm doing pretty good.

I got a call from L this morning, who asked about the possiblity of coming over for a visit. I know I'm probably still a bit of a scary sight, but I can think of no better therapy than to have supportive visitors. She and K came by for a bit to visit, and brought their 3-month old, very well-behaved baby with them, and we had a lovely time. I only regret that we all didn't have the opportunity to see each other for longer, but life is long, and there will be many other days.

I also traded a couple of texts with a dear SL friend, who was concerned and hadn't heard any news for several days. She was happy to hear of my good progress, and I hope to be able to see her in-world very soon.

This morning, I also decided it was time to have the name talk with my mom. It's been almost a month since the name-change stuff was complete, and I've been afraid to broach the topic. She took it about as well as I could have hoped, and though she's nowhere near ready to start using a new name for me, she does seem a lot more open to switching pronouns. I will accept each small victory when it occurs. And with such a victory, I certainly don't view it as me-versus-them, I think it's a struggle of old-versus-new. Old is well entrenched, and will take time and persistence to unseat, but I think we'll eventually get there.

I've got a couple things left on my to-do list left for today. The first is to call my supervisor at work and let him know how things went with me, and see how things went with the rest of the team. I'm guardedly hopeful. The other is to finish up some writing on what I'm calling "The Facebook Bomb", which I intend to drop tomorrow. The bulk of it is done, though it does need a lot of editing down, to a length which most people will be willing to actually read.

And right now, I'm almost an hour overdue for my second facial massage for today, so I should get moving on that. If it will help me to heal more quickly and successfully, I'm for it, uncomfortable as it may be. Then after the massage are the cleanings, which are just more of a hassle than any real discomfort. Boys who complain about high-maintenance women don't know anything, compared to what I go through on a daily basis.

Feeling Good

2010-03-09T07:19:00.003-06:00

Birds flying high you know how I feel
Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel

It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

— Nina Simone

It's been a difficult night; I've slept very little due to pain, and due to trip anxiety, and due to a storm of ideas in my head. And yet this is the best morning I've ever had in my life, simply because of the possibilities that feel like they are now open to me. That Nina Simone quote has been echoing around, and I think my heart is finally open to all this pain and sacrifice and whatever else I've been through. I'm free as a bird, free as the breeze, free as the sun. Every day from now is a gift to me, and it would be such a disrespect to myself and all those who have supported me all along the way not to view them as such.

Pain

2010-03-07T06:43:00.004-06:00

I'm up at some dumb time of the morning because I can't sleep due to the pain. Pain medication can only take me so far, but it seems that the rest I must simply bear. Most all of my dressings have been removed at this point. The only things that remain are the nose splint (which will be removed on Monday) and the pressure garment which I am to wear as much as is reasonably possible over the next month. My throat is parched to the point at which it is very difficult to swallow due to the pain, and this headache has become a constant companion.

My concern now is whether I'll be able to make it. Sleep is very, very optional. C seems to be quite peaceful next to me, snoring away, mocking my inability for relief. I want to take something heavy and wake him up, so he can join me in my agony.

I just want this all to be over.

My tear ducts still work fine.

So many hands...

2010-03-05T15:12:00.005-06:00

The outpouring of support for my recent surgery has been no less than completely astounding to me.

I've been weak and feeling like sleeping pretty much all the time. C has been working literally around the clock to keep all my dressings clean, and keep me fed and hydrated, and just making my experience as awesome as it can possibly be, all things considered. He's currently out grabbing some much-needed lunch and probably also enjoying a bit of "me time", since he's been on call for basically a week straight.

There have been times when he has not left my side, even as I slept, holding my hand, and simply letting me know that he was there. I've got him on speed-dial on my phone, which sits next to me on the bed should I need something during the night. The need for that has tailed off quite a bit, for which I'm sure he's happy.

My local friend Juju has been as constant a companion as she has been able to manage outside her work schedule. She has also taken on the task of being C's and my transportation around the city as she's been able. This morning she came by for a few hours just to sit with us and talk and hold my hand. Just knowing that she's there is also taking a great load off my heart.

Over the past couple days, I've gone from out-of-my-mind with pain, to the current state of reasonably uncomfortable. My dressings have gone from very restrictive and uncomfortable, to the current one which is not really too bad. Medication regimen has fallen into a pretty simple schedule, and next dosage should be coming up soon. It's recovery, and recovery from any surgery, minor or major, is recovery; as my sister says, it is what it is.

I have been deluged with good wishes from people on twitter, and text messages from various friends, and calls from family and friends. My mom has declared that I will be staying at her house for at least a few days when I get back home, and L has also declared that she will be spending at least a few days visiting daily once I'm back home in my own bed.

C just arrived again, so it's time for Trinity-maintenance. It honors me to be in so many of your thoughts and prayers, and I firmly believe that with so many hands holding me up, there is no way I can possibly fall.

Countdown!

2010-02-28T21:57:00.002-06:00

We are now approximately 7 hours away from surgery. I'm all showered and clean, and C has changed out my industrial barbell for the PTFE one. We're going over all the checklists and stuff that the doctor supplied, to make sure we have all the necessary supplies.

After seeing the doctor, I feel a lot better and more excited about everything. It's going to be a long road of recovery, but all the results will be worth the trouble and cost.

There's not a whole lot else to say. Thank you all again for your support! I'll see you on the other side.

En route!

2010-02-28T07:56:00.002-06:00

Just making a quick post from a MOVING TRAIN! We stopped in St. Louis for supplies and whatever else they needed to do (fuel?)

Getting ready

2010-02-25T20:50:00.003-06:00

The last couple nights have been spent getting ready for the upcoming trip - picking up a lot of the items I'll need, including some comfy clothes, medical supplies, and last night, a dose of sanity.

As you might expect, this is freaking me out beyond any and all places I've ever been before. It's going to be brutal. I'll be ugly and scary looking for a number of days after. And I'm going to hurt. There's going to be pain, and more pain, and some more pain after that. I've got a decently high pain tolerance, but... well, I really don't know what's coming.

There's that fear of the unknown again. And this unknown is about as big as it gets. In the meanwhile, I'm just trying to take it as easy as possible, and trying to not get so stressed out that I, say, get sick. Total fail on that last bit, but oh well.

I'm not sure what else there is to be said. The trip begins in earnest on Saturday, at a bit past one in the afternoon. I'll try to keep everyone up to date here and on twitter. I'll also have C send periodic updates to twitter, when I am... indisposed.

Try, try again

2010-02-22T18:49:00.006-06:00

I spent some time with my mother on Saturday. I hadn't really told her much about what was coming up, and figured I ought, since the things that are coming up are so dramatic. We spent a couple hours talking, though a lot of that time was spent with each of us in our own heads. She's absolutely panicked that I won't come back from the surgery, that I'm going to die. I assured her that I would come back to her, probably as much to settle her fears as to settle my own. And I tried again to explain the why of it all. I might have done a better job this time, or at least given her some decent things to think about. There was a glimmer of understanding behind her eyes.

She also did accept that I am much more comfortable with myself than I have ever been. She said that when the whole family was there over Christmas, she could see it in my body language. Even with all the tension, I was very relaxed with myself.

I still haven't told her my new name. I can't even go there. I just can't. She's going to do that you-killed-my-dog face again, I just know it. I know she probably doesn't mean to do it, but she does. And knowing that it's the things I'm telling her that are making that face... I can't do that. I want her to ask about it; then I would know she's at least considered the idea, and might not completely disintegrate. Right now, though, she's not ready for that.

I did assure her that C and I would keep her up to date while we were away in Chicago. It's the absolute least I can do. She finally seems to be trying, and I can't just gloss over that. Before, I think she was mostly just hoping it was a phase, and would go away on its own. But now that she knows I'm spending a ridiculous amount of money, and heading halfway across the country, and having such a dramatic surgery, that this is 100% real. I also offered that she come with me for my next appointment with my therapist, which I have done before on more than one occasion, but this time she actually accepted.

There were a lot of tears. It seems like most of our interaction is like that now. Hopefully that will ease, now that the big changes are coming to a close. I know that it will probably take a good bit more time, and things may never end up the way they were before. She might need to mourn the loss of her son for the rest of her life. She may never be able to understand or accept that she has a new daughter. Only time will tell.

A whole new (legal) person

2010-02-14T23:05:00.005-06:00

This past Friday, I did the scariest thing yet: I changed my name. For the last couple weeks, I've been collecting various pieces of documentation, and fretting over the court date. I knew there was probably very little to worry about, since the lawyer was very experienced in these matters, but as I've said on several occasions before, I never let reality get in the way of a good panic. And as it usually is, the whole thing ended up being not much of anything. The activity was pretty simple, but the implications were pretty incredible.

K had volunteered to come along as moral support, and he stayed over on Thursday night so we could get started at the correct hour. We had a few hours of travel to get to the venue, so the alarm went off at a ridiculously early time. I was actually surprised that I was able to sleep halfway decently; I expected to be staring at the ceiling for a few hours. But we got up and got going just a few minutes after I had hoped. Travel time was almost exactly what I had budgeted, and we got to the courthouse early, as I had intended. We found the room where we were to meet the lawyer, and I had a small breakfast.

Once the lawyer appeared, we convened with another trans person who was changing his name too, and headed off to a very crowded courtroom. A few minutes later, we left that room and headed off in search of another courtroom. The lawyer said that the judge in the second court was somebody she knew and had worked with before. The second courtroom was almost empty, so we filed in and sat down. The lawyer spoke with the judge for a minute or so, and then called us up. I waited for a few minutes while the lawyer presented the petition of the other person, and was surprised at how simple it was. The judge signed the order, and that was all done... now it was my turn!

I stepped up and the lawyer went over the petition we were presenting, and over all the papers I had collected. She asked me a number of questions, which we had gone over before. We presented the judge with two different decrees for her signature: one for name and gender change, and one for name, gender, and birth certificate amendment. She chose the latter, and with a smile, wished me luck. It was just that simple.

K later remarked that he had never seen me smiling bigger than I was as I made my way back to the benches. I was in a fog at the time, so I didn't really have any concept of anything. I'll take his word for it.

The lawyer spoke with the judge for another minute or two, and we filed out of the room. We then headed to the clerk, to retrieve our certified copies of our orders. Then we were done. We said our goodbyes, and went back to the car.

I had suggested to K earlier that if we got done early enough, I'd like to visit a DPS office and/or a Social Security office, to get those changes underway. Seeing as it was only 10:30, and we had plenty of time, we headed off to a DPS office to do the drivers license. There was one person in front of me in line; I waited my turn, presented my court order, and it was done. New photo, new signature, and of course, new name. That took all of twenty minutes.

Next stop was the Social Security office, and after a mishap with choosing an incorrect office, we got to another, and began the typical government office interminable wait. We were probably sitting for an hour when we were finally called. The clerk who made the changes was very nice, and we were done in probably ten minutes.

Once we got done with everything, it was a bit after noon, and I was starting to get a headache from stress and not eating. We found a good restaurant, had lunch, and then after a quick detour, got back on the road home.

So now I've got a new name, and a new legal gender. It is kind of a surreal feeling. I'm this whole new person, sort of, but not really. I'm still just me. And since I am not using that identity on a full-time basis yet, it's still something of an academic distinction. It probably just needs a little time to sink in, and I am guessing that once those new ID cards start appearing in the mail, that it will really hit me.

Soon, soon

2010-02-09T21:32:00.004-06:00

I met with the lawyer today, to go over the petitions that we're going to file, and the orders we hope to have signed. Friday is the court date, and then... it should be done. Then I'll get to go around to all the various agencies and show them the orders, and get them to update my records.

I should probably be excited and ecstatic, and all those other good things. I have to say that I'm more numbed by the whole thing; my stress level is so high, I can barely even think half the time. I haven't slept worth a darn in the last month or more. I don't expect much sleep Thursday night, and I expect to be sleepwalking through Friday, and I expect to be a zombie for most of the coming weekend. The implications of what's about to happen are so completely lost on me right now, and that's really sad.

I also had an appointment with my doctor this morning. The surgeon who will be doing my upcoming facial surgery requested several tests, which involved poking and listening, and drawing of blood, and an EKG. I also asked him about possibly taking over management of my HRT, since the doctor who's currently handling mine has yet to perform a single test on me, after 14 months. He said he was not very well versed on such matters, but he would at least try.

No big insights to offer. Just a status update.

Papers, please!

2010-02-03T22:55:00.004-06:00

I've been fretting over the paperwork I've had to collect for my upcoming name change. It seemed like a big long list at first, but as I've gotten pieces here and there, the list is actually pretty short. This evening, I spent a little time writing the couple of letters which the lawyer requested that I write, and a letter from Dr. Raphael came in the mail today, and I got another copy of the letter from my endocrinologist this afternoon, so I've almost got everything. The only thing left is a fingerprint card, for which I have scheduled an appointment at lunchtime tomorrow. Then I'll just have to write a check, and take everything to the lawyer's office.

Then the court date is next Friday. It's happening very quickly! Whoosh, and we're almost done! After that, I get to visit various government offices and get records changed.

One of the pieces of documentation I had to collect was a copy of my birth certificate, which my parents have. My dad took care of digging out the form and making the copy; he was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing, which was great. My mom, when I told her why I needed it, made a face like I had killed her dog. I know she's having trouble, but every time she does that, it's like she's trying to guilt me into stopping and going back. I'd really like to get in her face about it, but I'm sure that would do little else but make her dig her heels in and resist all the more, or give her a more upset feeling about the whole thing. I know I've got to give everyone time, and they'll see the importance of these changes, but it's just hard. I waited on myself for a long time, and now it seems I have little patience to wait on anyone else.

A rose by any other...

2010-02-01T23:18:00.004-06:00

One of the things that I've left off doing until now, is changing my name. It seems most appropriate to do now that I'm right at the point of needing my name to match my new identity. The timing and the amount of things I need to do, at the same time as all the other things that are going on... It's doing its best to turn into a stress bomb.

I met with the lawyer last Thursday, and she went over most of the stuff I needed to do. I guess the list isn't terribly difficult, and I already have some of the papers. But it's just more things to do. Then there's the cost. This particular lawyer is only willing to advise when she gets to handle all the court stuff, and of course that comes at a very lawyer-like price. Just another expense that I didn't need right now, since I'm struggling a little with surgery costs at the moment too.

So, documents and a big check will put me on the docket for the 12th. I do have to get it done, and this lawyer is supposedly the one to work with for transgender name changes. I understand her reasons for how she handles things, and can appreciate that she's got a lot of experience, and many good contacts, and she does need to run her business and make a living, but her total cutthroat attitude does not make me happy. I'm not getting a very warm feeling from the experience so far - I don't feel like a client, but rather just a source of money. Once the court date rolls around, we'll see how things go.

On the bright side, once the court decree comes through (which should be on the same day as the court session), I'll be able to get name and gender changed on my social security card and my driver's license, and I'll also be able to get a passport in my new name and gender. Then the process of getting everything else changed begins. Bank accounts, work records, all that stuff.

Speaking of work, I met with the HR director and the benefits coordinator on Friday, along with my manager. We talked about my plans regarding surgery, and vacation/leave, and they gave me a bunch of forms to fill out. No HR department is complete without a big stack of forms. I think we have a pretty good plan; I'll probably need to finalize some minor details with my manager, but it seems like we're on track for a pretty smooth transition.

This post feels pretty incomplete, but I did want to get something down, even though I have very little mental and emotional energy right now. Next post will hopefully be better.

Money, or lack thereof

2010-01-16T20:38:00.003-06:00

It's expensive to be a trans woman. We've got a lot of things we need to do, and most of those things are expensive, and many of them are not covered by any kind of insurance. We need to get all the hair removed from our faces, and some opt for other places too. That means laser or electrolysis, both of which are time-consuming, painful, expensive, and not covered by insurance. Then we need to visit a psychotherapist of some sort, possibly for an extended duration; even odds as to whether it's covered by insurance. Then we need to visit an endocrinologist, which is probably not covered. Then we need to take hormones for the rest of our lives, which may or may not be covered. Then come the surgeries. Not covered, because they're considered cosmetic and elective, and "not medically necessary". Which, right, sure, whatever, you insurance guys just go on and keep believing that.

So starting right off, we know we're pretty far in the big ol' money pit which is the lot of being a transitioning trans girl. And then compound that with the fact that we're often rejected by those who might help us, simply for being who we are, and you've got a pretty bad situation brewing. Sometimes we're fired, or kicked out of the places we live, and we have absolutely no recourse.

So far, I've been fairly lucky. I'm still employed and seem likely to remain so, and I still have a place to live. I've had reasonable luck with my health insurance, which pays for a lot of my psychotherapy and my medication. But now that I'm getting to the endgame - a time which involves expensive surgeries for many of us - I'm expected to pay for some pretty big-ticket items, and my health insurance is nowhere to be found.

A few posts ago, I talked about my upcoming facial surgery. It's terribly expensive. Like new car expensive. I have been working through the logistics for getting there and back, and staying someplace while I'm there, and that's going to be expensive on its own. But then there's the actual surgical bill. I've got most of the money for it, but not all. Luckily there are organizations which will loan money to people for cosmetic surgery. I've contacted one, and they can get me about halfway through what I have left to pay. Halfway. I have a few others to contact, but all of these organizations are going to charge the same stupid interest rates as the first, and I'm going to have two (or more, perish the thought) of those ridiculous payments at one time. I like eating and having a place to live and all that, and the numbers don't lie: I'm going to have to make brutal changes to accommodate it at all.

There is the possibility of postponing the surgery, which is not an option at all. This won't wait.

As loath as I am to do it, I'm actually considering talking to my parents and seeing if they are willing to help. I will insist on paying them back, of course, but the good side of that is that they surely won't charge the usurious interest rates those other organizations do. If they won't help, I'm not going to be in good shape.

Lean times are ahead.

This is the end, my friend

2010-01-12T21:51:00.003-06:00

My therapist brought up an interesting point during our session this evening. Since the boy-me is soon coming to an end, I may need to spend some time mourning the loss of him.

That's something I have never considered. But it does make some amount of sense: I've spent how many ever years with him around, and now he's going to be gone, forever.

Forever.

I'm not sure what to say about that. I've spent a lot of time and effort over the past couple years making this moment a reality, when boy-me would finally be gone, and girl-me could take the reins. I've tortured myself physically, emotionally, and mentally. I've dared my friends and family to accept me, and not all of them took me up on the challenge. I've put myself in a position which could bring me tremendous hardship at the hands of a cruel society. And all of that in the hope that one day, what's soon to happen would actually happen. So now that it is happening, it seems more than a little strange that I might spend much time lamenting what I have willingly given up.

I suppose it's a "could" or a "might", and not necessarily a "will". But people are weird sometimes, and I guess we'll just have to wait and see how things go.

BIG

2010-01-09T16:18:00.004-06:00

I'm getting down to the last of it. Just a few more big steps, and I'll be ready to call it all done. The latest big step was probably the scariest of all: I called for a surgery date for my facial feminization surgery. March 1! Seems like it's a bit away, but when I think about it again, that's only about a month and a half. That's no time at all! But then, even if it were 6 months or even a year away, the date would arrive in due course, and I would be panicking for that last bit. So, like taking off a band-aid, it's probably best to do it quickly, than to agonize over it, only to find that it's not such a big deal.

When all was said and done, my last surgery experience was nothing to worry about. I worried about it, because I worry about such things. And I'll worry about this one, because I do. I've met the doctor and his staff, and they were warm and I was very comfortable with them. That's probably not it, though. There's a much bigger thing on the other side of this: after it's all done, I'll be a girl all the time. That's the really huge step here. Having a surgery done is time-consuming, and costly, and there's pain, and recovery, and all that stuff. But wounds heal, and time passes, and as they say, this, too, shall pass. But this "all the time" part is the new frontier here. There will be no safety net. There will not always be a security blanket. I am taking that step out onto the proverbial windy street corner.

I would love to be able to say that I'm not worried about it, that I'll finally be able to present myself to everyone, honestly. And that's what I will be doing, presenting myself honestly. But not worried? Right then is when my what-if gland activates itself again... What if I haven't taken enough preparation with any of the myriad things that one needs to do to successfully transition? What if I don't live up to the standards that other people would use to measure me? What if I don't live up to my own standards?

I'm so tired of having fear rule my life. I'm just tired of it. If I could just magically say, ok, that's over and done with, I'm not afraid anymore, that would be awesome. But I can't do that. I don't know how to do that. I've heard a lot of people comment on my courage, and frankly, I have no idea what they're talking about. Long-time readers of this blog know full well that my courage level is somewhere in the negative values.

I commented recently to a friend on Twitter that we know what's important to us, by what we worry about. Some amount of fear or anxiety is probably healthy. And fear of the unknown is pretty natural and universal for people. But I am concerned that I'll become a recluse after this is all done, because I'm too afraid of being that honest, genuine person with everyone. That my honest, genuine self somehow doesn't measure up, or isn't good enough. Perhaps some of my recent experiences with my blood-relatives are lurking in the fore, and coloring my view of how things might go.

I need to get back into boundary-stretching mode again. Over some periods in 2009, things were happening so quickly that sometimes I could scarcely keep up. Near the end of the year, they settled down into a much more static state, while still being short of where they really needed to be. So, since big changes are mere weeks away, I need to get my anxiety with myself under some measure of control. And the best way I know to do that is to push at myself.

And I know in my head that some people won't accept me. I've already had to deal with some of those, and it was pretty bad. It was such a blow, and I'm quite sure that I don't want to have to deal with that again. But I know that I will have to deal with it at some point; there'll be somebody out there who wants to spread hate, and I'll have a nice target painted on my forehead. I'm terrible with confrontations, and yet I'll be forced, perhaps often, to have them.

I was expecting this to be a pretty short post, simply about my excitement with my upcoming surgery, and then it turned into a big heavy thing about fear, that robbed all the excitement I had. Sigh. One of these days I'll learn how not to do this to myself. Unfortunately, today is not that day.

A new page

2010-01-01T16:38:00.005-06:00

It's the new year, and I've been thinking seriously about resolutions. Those new pages that one turns when one reaches some sort of starting-over point. And since the beginning of the year is the typical starting point, it seems like a good time to try them out, for once.

First: get back on the bike. I used to ride three or four times a week, for a dozen or twenty miles at a go, and now I haven't been on the bicycle in months. I've been using my knee as an excuse, but that's not good enough. The only way it'll get stronger, is if I actually use it. My legs have turned to jello, and there's an alarming ring of flab trying to develop around my middle. My goal is to get to 125 pounds, which shouldn't be a huge effort, if I were to actually, you know, do something about it.

With exercising, usually comes eating well. When I am getting regular exercise, my body usually craves decent food anyway, so that's sort of a sub-resolution to the cycling one.

I'd like to become a better seamstress. I would like to try to produce at least one piece of clothing each month, be it a top, or a dress, or even a quilt, or some other item. I always have fun when I work on a new project, so it makes sense that I should try to do it more often. I've had the pattern pieces and the fabric for a dress sitting on my table for at least a month now; I should finish it up, for my first piece of the year. I've also had it in my mind to try knitting, which could also be fun.

The last one I've been thinking about, is a bit more of an amorphous item. Simplification. Life is such a complex beast, and we must find some way to handle that complexity. I'm not sure what might be done, but perhaps that can be the goal of the exercise.

There are also the main ones related to my gender transition: getting comfortable in my daily life in this new gender role, and making the last of the physical changes in my public transition. Those live at such a basic level, though, that they lie outside a simple resolution.

This should prove to be an exciting and fulfilling year, and I'm looking forward to experiencing it.

Holidays and stuff

2009-12-31T19:04:00.004-06:00

Christmas has never been one of my favorite holidays. Too much to get done, too much family, too much on-your-best-manners, too much this, too much that. Too much stress. Just too much.

The new year is another one I just don't get. I just can't get all that excited for the fact that the calendar is recycling. The calendar does that same thing every month, and yet we don't get all excited those other eleven times during the year. And plus, it's more of an alcoholic holiday, and I just don't even go there.

But perhaps the new year thing isn't all that far out there. I had lunch with L today, and we talked a lot about changes in our lives. Seems like people can use something like a new year as something of a clean slate, to try something new and different. The setting of resolutions for the new year is a prime example of that. This new year, for me, will bring the most dramatic of changes. I'll have a new public persona. I'll have a new name. I should reach some plateau of completeness with all my big life changes. There are further changes which I might yet make, but those are still some time away.

One of the things that inspires some of my friends (and me too, of course) about my whole odyssey, is that fact that I get to completely remake my life, and my persona, and be exactly who I want to be. Exactly. That's quite a big thing to encompass. No preconceptions, no determinism, no history. I can change anything. I can be anyone. Tabula rasa, in a manner of speaking.

I'm actually considering setting some resolutions for myself. I've never done it before, but I think it could be something interesting. We'll see how I feel when I wake up tomorrow.

Post-holiday blahs

2009-12-26T23:25:00.005-06:00

It happens every year. The big buildup to Christmas, with all the attendant stress, and when it's all over, it seems like it was all for nought. As the bard said, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

The dumb part is that I knew what was going to happen. I knew my brother-in-law was going to echo my sister's feelings about me. I knew my entire family was going to be indifferent at the very best with my feminine presentation. I knew, and yet I let it make me crazy for, what, two weeks. I haven't slept worth a darn for that long, and it's catching up with me in a big, big way. I've had a low-grade headache for days now. I've developed an itchy and painful case of eczema on my forehead and eyelids, surely from all that stress.

So now I just need to let go of it. I might have hit some kind of point today on that path; all of a sudden, I had absolutely no energy, and just had to sleep. Most of the rest of the day, I've been quite sedate, and I hope I can sleep well tonight. I need the rest.

One of these days, I'll learn that nobody defines me, but me. I'll learn that my happiness doesn't need to depend on the responses of a very specific small group of people. I might even learn that there are other people out there, who do respond well, and I can feel good with their responses to me. I might also learn that happiness can be wherever I find it, and I need to keep my heart open that I might find those new places of joy.

This was all so much easier when I was numb, and didn't care. Apathy was nice while it lasted, but that's no way to have any kind of meaningful life. Easy usually doesn't equate with good or healthy. Now I do care, and things do matter, so I take everything pretty seriously. No grains of salt here. This is my life, and I've had enough with it being numb and worthless. I want it to be awesome, and there are forces which are near to me which seek to make it not awesome. So I just need to recognize those sources of anti-awesomeness as what they are, and eschew them in favor of sources of love and support.

Ho ho ho

2009-12-25T15:42:00.005-06:00

Christmas day is going a lot better than Christmas Eve did. I woke up from the first decent night's sleep in many days, and felt like spending time with my family, regardless of how they have been treating me. And if they treated me poorly, I reasoned, I do have a plan B.

Up, showered, dressed. Kept it simple today - just jeans and a tee, and my new pink All-Stars. Collected gifts and went. Ate breakfast, opened gifts, laughed at the dog. My sister's dog is a riot.

After lunch, I came back home to decompress a little bit, and bake a quick loaf of orange-cran bread. I'm not sure how much decompression I needed, but I did want some time to reflect a bit on what happened this morning.

I've commented a few times to a few different people that I want nothing to do with being in the spotlight. But on the other end of the spectrum, there's being largely ignored, and that's just as hard for me to deal with. Now that I'm getting to a place where I'm comfortable with myself, it's nice to have people recognize that, and in turn feel more comfortable around me, and maybe even comment on it. My family totally failed on that score. For them, my transition is something to be endured, not something to be celebrated. My anger about that has dulled, but is by no means gone. As their antipathy remains, so does mine.

Nobody made any comments, positive or negative, which has both positive and negative aspects to it. They weren't berating me, laughing at me, or making fun of me, so that's good. On the other hand, they weren't being positive in any way, and for a lot of the day, I felt largely invisible. Out of sight, out of mind, right there in the same room with them all. And that's not good.

Perhaps I should have involved them earlier on. Then they would have had more time to become acclimated to the changes. As it stands now, I'm almost at the finish line, and they've only just heard the starting gun. My friends and I have been dealing with all of this stuff for over a year now, so it's getting to be old hat to us - just another part of the day. I'm probably not being as patient as I could be with my family, since they're not up with me.

The other part is the name/pronoun thing. They're using he, him, and the old guy name, which just twists the knife a little each time. It denies my identity, and pushes everything I've been working toward under the rug. My brother-in-law is calling me "Mr. <guyname>", which... I'm not sure if he's doing it out of habit, or out of malice. I didn't want to push it with anyone today, in the interest of not having people freak out, but I think after this, I'm going to start. I'm a she. I'm a her. I'm Trinity.

I guess all I can really do is hope that things get better. And if they don't, I'll keep that plan B open. I've got places I can go, and people who love me.

Everyone have a happy Christmas!

Christmas time

2009-12-24T22:31:00.003-06:00

Christmas time and family can be a deadly combination. I saw my family today - all of them - for about ten minutes. It was all I could stand, and I had to get out of there.

I spoke briefly with my brother-in-law, and that didn't go very well. He said that he didn't understand, and that based on his beliefs, he couldn't accept or support me. He said that he would be civil to me. He also said that he felt sorry for me, and that he worried for my safety.

Every bit of that was a knife to the heart. The last person in the family fell right in line with the rest of them, in their dismissal of my identity.

I went off to be by myself for a few minutes, and was intercepted by my mother when I was on my way out the door. I told her that I was going to leave, and when she asked if I would be back for dinner, I slowly replied that I didn't know. I then proceeded to blow up at her a little. My final shot was that if they weren't willing to accept me as I am, then to hell with them all.

It was probably a pretty childish display, but I am so furious with all of them and with their lousy treatment of me. I have had enough of being "tolerated" and "treated civilly", when what I really need is love and acceptance. I've never gotten a huge amount of it from them, even before I was out to them, but the little I used to get is now a distant memory.

I spent most of the rest of the afternoon crying off and on. I didn't return for dinner, and I'm still trying to decide whether I want to go over there tomorrow morning. I should go and see if they have anything worthwhile to say to me, but right now, my anger is telling me to stay far away from all of them.

See me, feel me, touch me, heal me

2009-12-24T03:05:00.003-06:00

It's early morning, Christmas Eve. My sister and brother-in-law are coming into town tomorrow, so I will have to face them.

I sent a CD off to my brother-in-law late last week, and hoped it would reach him by Tuesday, or Wednesday at the very latest. It was a recording of me, reading him the coming-out letter that I wrote for him. I do not feel comfortable enough around my sister, to go visit to have the talk with him, so this seemed like the next best thing. He still gets to hear things in my voice, but just lacks the part of seeing me there. In it, in addition to the typical coming-out stuff, I told him that I would be presenting femme at Christmas this year. At the end, I told him that he could call me at any time if he had questions, or if he just wanted to talk to me. I had hoped that he would call, at least just to let me know that he had received the parcel, and listened to it, but I haven't heard a peep.

On the way home from seeing Avatar tonight, E and I got to talking about it, and she assured me that whatever happens, she will not abandon me, and that I always have a place to go with her and C. As we were all going our separate ways, I was talking a bit with K, and my anger with my sister came back in full force. I decided a while ago that if she wants to start something, that I would be out the door, and that would be the last time she would ever see me. I still feel that way, but I just hope it doesn't come to that.

This feels like such an ultimatum point. I hate to call it that, but it's me saying "this is me, take me or leave me, forever". It's going to be hard for me to give second chances. I know I have to let go of my anger, but I can't do that, not when I have no idea how things stand.

Tomorrow I'll know, one way or the other. Tomorrow I'll know if I still have a sister.

Work

2009-12-12T13:21:00.003-06:00

I came out to my boss yesterday.

It all started last week, when I had to let him know about the all-day doctor appointment that I had. He replied that he hoped everything was ok, to which I replied "nothing life-threatening, but important", and that we should discuss it during our next one-on-one conference, which was supposed to be this past Tuesday. Well, Tuesday turned into a bit of drama, and we didn't get to have our meeting. So I spent the rest of the week in extreme stress mode, waiting until I could get a chance to spill my big pot o' beans.

Finally, on Friday we managed to have our meeting. I had some notes of most of the points I wanted to discuss, but for the first part, I just flew by the seat of my pants. Coming out, no matter to one's family, or friends, or boss, is fundamentally the same. There's a big thing, and one tells the other what it is, and then things go on from there. The anxiety for me (and probably for a lot of people) is about that last part, where things go on. Sometimes it's hard to see, with any clarity, just what that going-on will involve. And that, I think, is the crux of the whole thing: we don't know what will happen, and we're scared of the unknown.

I'm not entirely sure what I did expect from him, but whatever it was, bore very little resemblance to reality. He was calm and cool, and at the same time warm and supportive. He said that he wanted to help me in any way he could, which kind of blew me away. We talked a little bit about my current plans, and he was very open, and agreed with my tentative timeline. I mentioned that I would send him a few links with some resources that might be helpful, and also suggested that we work together, and with HR, to come up with a good strategy for everything that needs to happen.

It was a weird conversation; I've never really connected with my boss, or any boss, on a personal level, and there I was, doing exactly that. So I think everybody grew a little bit from the conversation, and I left his office with a smile on my face and a really good feeling about the future.

Post surgery follow-up

2009-12-05T23:56:00.003-06:00

I journeyed up to Plano once again yesterday for my two-week post-surgery appointment. Everything has been doing pretty well since all the excitement of a couple weeks ago, so I expected the visit to be pretty short.

K had agreed to come along, both for driving help and moral support. He stayed on my couch the night before, since we were getting underway pretty early in the morning. I was a little freaked out, so I probably wasn't the best hostess in the world; I hope he understood.

I managed maybe four hours' sleep that night, and woke even before my alarm. I got up, showered, and got ready. And then the nervousness started, while I waited for K to get ready. It wasn't quite the "I'm doing something completely new" terror, but my appetite was off, and I certainly wasn't feeling too talkative. K slept for the early part of the trip, which was maybe good, and maybe not so good. I had a lot of time to think, and not much else to occupy my thoughts. But once we got to Dallas, traffic diverted my attention enough so that I didn't go all basketcase.

We were early, by about 45 minutes, and it was lunchtime, so I suggested getting something to eat. K agreed, so we went to a sandwich shop that E and I found while we were there. This time, though, the place was full of people. I think I managed to keep my composure, though I ate precious little of my food, and my hands were shaking the entire time. My next big hurdle, and this is probably more of a long-term project, is to become more comfortable just being out in the world. I don't do it much, so it's always stressful. But we finished our lunch without incident, and headed to the doctor's office.

The appointment itself was very short; I was in the office for maybe ten minutes. The doctor had a look at how everything was healing, and seemed very happy. No hematomas, which he said was the big thing to worry about with the procedure I had. The incisions themselves were starting to go away; he had placed adhesive strips over them after the surgery, which he removed. He directed me to place small pieces of adhesive tape over the incisions for a couple months, to make sure everything heals up well. And then I had a few questions, and that was that. He said he wouldn't need to see me again unless something goes really wrong.

The trip back to Houston was a whole different story. K was driving, and my stress had completely evaporated. I actually had a really good time. Traffic seemed a little heavier than the trip up, but I wasn't driving, so I actually just totally let go of everything related to the road. I spent most of the trip changing radio stations; I'm sure I was driving K absolutely bonkers. But we listened to some good music, and we chatted pretty much the entire way home.

When we got back into Houston, we went directly to C and E's for dinner, which was delicious. I had brought a pair of pants (I wore a skirt for the day) in anticipation of playing some Rock Band, but both K and I were absolutely exhausted, so we called it a night a bit early. I don't think it was much later than 10:30 PM when I fell into bed. I slept the sleep of the just.

A day to give thanks

2009-11-26T20:31:00.003-06:00

This day has been coming for a long time. The day my family sees me, the self that I see in my mind's eye.

And what's more, today is Thanksgiving here in the United States, a day during which we reflect on the year past, and be thankful for our many blessings, large and small.

Perhaps that's what put me in the mindset of wanting something that I didn't have - the support of my family. I wanted to force the issue, and come to a sort of ultimatum point. I wanted to dare them to accept me, to support me, to love me.

Why should one have to dare her family to do what families are supposed to do in the first place? Coming from a place of anger, as I am regarding them, it might be the intent to hurt, to dish out what one has received. Lashing out is unhealthy, and is unproductive, and is ultimately unsatisfying. No one wins; everyone loses. The unfortunate truth is that it's a reflex: you hurt me, so I'll hurt you.

Elevated thinking notwithstanding, I wanted to make the dare, and I wanted to do it today.

I spent a couple hours crying my eyes out. Despite my anger, I was still scared to death. Playing chicken with somebody else's feelings is no simple feat. There is every possibility that they won't flinch, and the whole encounter will end in a terrible crash. Everybody loses, again.

Once I got hold of myself long enough to dial the phone, I managed to get out about two sentences before I dissolved into body-wracking sobs again. But I had to continue. If I gave up on this, as I had been trying to convince myself to do for the previous couple hours, I would never be able to progress. I got hold of myself again, and forced the words out: I need to be able to be myself with you. I need you to be able to know me. And I need to do it now, today.

I was met with... my mom, being a mom, doing what moms are supposed to do.

The rest was anticlimactic. Once I started getting ready, the stress basically left me; it was just another day out. I got ready and went, and the parents saw, and we cooked and ate our simple Thanksgiving dinner, and I came home.

Out of whack

2009-11-23T21:23:00.005-06:00

Today was not a good day.

I'm still in recovery mode following my surgery; I don't return to work until Wednesday, so I'm just at my apartment, trying to find things to keep me busy. Eating, watching netflix, and poking around on the 'tubes is about all I have to do. I've even tried working on a programming project that had fallen by the wayside a few years ago.

But for whatever reason, I spent most of the day trying to keep from bursting into tears.

C sent an SMS a bit after lunch, offering to come visit me this evening, since he figured that I might be getting a little stir-crazy being home by myself. He also offered to bring some dinner. I accepted on all counts - I just needed some human contact.

Once he walked through the door, and asked me how I was doing, I couldn't hang on to my composure any longer. I just started weeping, and he held me for a few minutes while I cried myself out.

Once I got hold of myself again (however tenuously), we ate and visited for a while, which helped take my mind off whatever was going on. C suggested that it's probably a huge change in hormone levels resulting from the surgery; I'm sure that is exactly the case.

This is not the first time I've been caught unaware by my hormones. I feel like I should have at least seen this one coming, but apparently I wasn't thinking. Now that I know better what to expect, I might be able to handle it a little better, or at least I hope I can.

Still here!

2009-11-21T10:33:00.004-06:00

I kind of fell off the grid yesterday; I was hoping to have a new blog post every day through my surgery experience, but yesterday just got too busy, and pain meds have a way of making things seem not quite so important.

The day of the surgery, E and I got there right on time, and were shown in to the pre-op ward after a couple minutes. They had me change into everyone's favorite hospital garment, the backless gown, and put me into a bed with a thing they called a bear hugger. The bear hugger, oh my, what a wonderful invention! It's a heater and fan, connected by a duct to an inflatable blanket, which is lain over the top of the patient. It's like being in a warm and toasty cocoon.

A nurse came in and went over some more papers with me, which required a couple signatures. We then went over what was going to occur over the rest of the day. She then tried to start up my IV, but missed. She was so very apologetic, but I kept reassuring her that everyone has an off day. In reflection, I find it rather interesting that, even with scary stuff impending in my own life, I will take the time to reassure another person who's having trouble with something. I just like working with people, rather than against them.

The nurse left and E and I just sat and talked, and waited, and talked. She was just telling silly stories about her daughters and trying to keep my mind off the worry, and just keep me in good spirits. The nurse came back after a while to inform us that they were running a little behind, and that she would try to find Dr. Raphael and have him come talk to me before everything got started. More time passed, and the doctor came and visited with us for a few minutes. He's such a lovely person; he has such an easy manner, and it's very clear that he cares for his patients very much. I tend to not name full names or endorse people or businesses here in this blog, but I had such a wonderful experience with Dr. Raphael and his staff, I will not hesitate to recommend him.

Hospitals, in my fairly limited experience, seem to be places out of time. There are few clocks where patients can see them, and time just seems to stretch out into infinity sometimes. Even with that timelessness, I could tell that we had been waiting a long time. E just kept deflecting my attention and kept me smiling and laughing. I asked once what time it was, and she wouldn't tell me, which told me more than she probably meant to. Eventually, the anesthesiologist, Tracy, another super nice person with a great bedside manner, came in and we spoke briefly, and he set up my IV. He had three syringes, which he put into my IV in quick succession.

I continued to lie there, and suddenly noticed that my eyes were closed, and it was quite a struggle to get them to come open. I could hear E and another of the nurses talking, so I knew everything was going fine. They noticed that I was trying to get my eyes open, and reassured me that everything had gone very well, and that even the surgeon was surprised at how smoothly the procedure had gone. I was mildly amused that this newest experience with anesthesia mirrored my previous one - a chunk of time and awareness was simply edited out of my mind's record. Once I gained a little more of a handle on my surroundings, I noticed that I was dressed in my clothes again. E and the nurse were talking about supportive underwear, to keep gauze and body parts in place, which led to changing into the padded girdle that I've had for a while, sans pads. After that, we said our goodbyes and the nurse wheeled me out to the car.

The rest of the day was pretty mundane: I slept and went to the potty, and that was about it. The nurse called a couple times to make sure I was able to use the potty, since I wasn't able right before they wheeled me out. Apparently my ability to go was an indicator for how swollen I was inside. First try was a big bust, and second try wasn't a whole lot better, but once I was able, things went more or less on autopilot. Drink, doze, pee became my world. E had to help me up the first several times, but as the night wore on, I was able to make the trip under my own power the last couple of times.

The next morning arrived, and with it came the various prescriptions - anti-swelling, antibiotic, pain pills. A lot of them are uncoated and bitter as can be, but I suppose if they work, I can't really complain. We got all our things packed up and took care of our morning routines, and checked out of the hotel on the way to the first post-surgical appointment, at 9:45. The appointment was pretty simple; the nurse just wanted to hear how I was feeling, if I was going to the bathroom ok, how my pain and nausea levels had been, and things like that. She also checked out the incision sites, to make sure everything was secure. She also changed my gauze padding, and showed me how to do it properly. We set up my next follow-up appointment, in two weeks.

Once we got out onto the road, a feeling of nausea started slowly, and I hoped I could just ride it out, but I could tell that just wasn't going to happen. I took an anti-nausea pill, which acted pretty quickly, and made me feel a whole lot better. The rest of the drive went without incident; more of the drink, rest, pee from the previous night, punctuated with eating and other medications at strategic times.

We got back to C & E's by about 3pm, and I just parked myself on a recliner and rested some more. I surprised myself with how much dinner I ate. Recovery, it seems, takes a lot out of a person. Once we all called it quits for the night, C brought me and my car back to my place, and he stayed the night to make sure everything was ok.

Now it's just up to me to take care of myself, and rest, and recover. Nothing glamorous, but it's life.

Today

2009-11-19T08:12:00.003-06:00

So today's the day.

I'm just lounging in my hotel room, still in my jammies, waiting until closer to time to get up and do my morning stuff. There's not too much to be done, since most of my morning stuff is pretty moot today: just a quick shower, clean my "down south" region with Betadine, and put on comfy clothes.

Last night was pretty calm, mainly because both E and I were exhausted. Road trips always take a lot out of people, and I hadn't slept worth a darn in days, and I think she's pretty stressed with being away from her husband and children. We video conferenced with C and the girls for a little while, and showered, and she swapped my piercing bar for a nonmetallic one, and then we just relaxed a bit before going to bed. I worked on one of my sewing projects, which was being difficult, and E video conferenced with C some more. I took some of the prescribed Diazepam to help me sleep, though I'm not sure how much I really needed it; regardless, I slept like a rock.

A little over two hours to go. The butterflies have started a little bit. I'd love some breakfast to calm my stomach, but that's a no-no this morning.

Here goes nothing...

One day away

2009-11-18T16:13:00.003-06:00

I am in Plano, TX, currently relaxing at the hotel following my pre-surgical appointment earlier this afternoon. Surgery is tomorrow morning at 11:30. I'm to be at the surgical office an hour before surgery begins, so I can get all settled and ready, and the anesthesiologist can begin hir work.

The trip here was a typical road trip. We hit a lot of rush hour traffic as we left Houston, so I was immediately feeling the "we're going to be late" craziness. I managed to get a speeding ticket as we went through Dallas. Despite the various stops we made, we managed to make it to the office right on time.

We waited a half-hour or so until we were called in. Catherine came in and talked to us for a few minutes, and gave an overview of how everything was going to work. Then she went to fetch Dr. Raphael, which took some time. Pretty typical doctor office type stuff. Once the doctor appeared, we had a great conversation; he has a great bedside manner, and was very personable, and made me feel a lot less nervous about everything, and answered all the questions we had. One of the nurses, Debbie, came in to go over the details, and answer any more questions. She also took my blood pressure (which was good) and drew some blood. Then we went up to the front, where they gave me 5(!) prescriptions, and I gave them the BIG check.

After that, we went for lunch, because we were both starving, and then took the prescriptions to the drug store. When the prescriptions were ready, the pharmacist asked for my ID. As I handed it to her, she quickly said, "no, I need to see your ID." My quick comeback was "that is my ID." And then she went on just as if nothing had happened. It was both very cool, and pretty funny. Then we came to the hotel and checked in.

Now we wait. We're planning on having a late dinner, since I'm not allowed to eat after midnight, until after I come out of the anesthesia. Last night's paltry four hours' sleep is starting to catch up with me in a big way; a short nap might be nice, though just staying up and crashing for the whole night would probably be the best way to go.

My butterflies are pretty well gone right now. The way I was treated by everyone at the doctor's office, especially including Dr. Raphael, has given me a huge amount of confidence.

I also want to thank all those who have sent their good wishes via Twitter, email, in Second Life, and in person. This has been a long journey, but your encouragment and love have given me courage and hope. I couldn't have gotten this far without each and every one of you.

Four days away

2009-11-15T21:41:00.003-06:00

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.

Industrialization

2009-11-07T23:39:00.005-06:00

Tonight was the outing of all outings. For most of it, I was in a constant state of surprise at how well everything was going.

A number of weeks ago, I was talking to C about information on his piercer, for getting an industrial, which I've been thinking about for a couple years now. He told me that he was taking E out to have some work done, and that we could go together. That immediately made me feel much more comfortable about the whole thing, since I trust both of them implicitly, and they would also be there for moral support. The proposed date for it was still a bit off, so all I could do was wait. Well, tonight was the night, put-up-or-shut-up time.

Once we finally made it to the shop, E, who's been pierced a number of times before, just went ahead and took care of her stuff. That was fine with me, since I was unsure of what to expect. She was doing a fairly sensitive area, and yelled a bit during hers. That was fine, I reasoned, the ear cartilage has a whole lot less nerve endings than the area she was having pierced.

Then the man who was helping the piercer came out and we got started setting up for mine. Once he started looking at my ear, he discovered that I don't have a very deep rim of cartilage around my ear. In the days leading up, I've wondered about that; after he left to talk to the piercer, I started to worry that they wouldn't be able to do it at all. Both the helper and the piercer took better looks, and decided that everything was ok, that there was just enough cartilage there to make it. Whew!

So the next thing was to fill out some papers - who I am, stuff like that. "Can I see your ID?" he asked. Knowing it was coming, and somewhat dreading it, I mumbled something to E along the lines of "this is the part that I was not looking forward to." So I placed my thoroughly male ID down on the desk, and told him "it doesn't match very well," which didn't seem to register immediately. He was looking at it intently for several seconds before he said that it was a bit of a surprise.

I'll take it.

The piercing itself was anticlimactic; I held on to C, and was braced for some serious pain, and... it wasn't bad at all. The anti-helix side was worse than the helix side, but I didn't make a sound for either, and may have wrinkled my nose for the anti-helix. Maybe.

After that was done, we went out to dinner at C and E's favorite sushi restaurant. The hostess may have been checking me out as she left the table, but it barely made a dent. The food was excellent, and the musical duo was playing some good tunes.

Pretty much every time I'm out in public, I expect to be read by everyone, and half the time I expect somebody to cause a scene, so when the interest is so low-key, it's a nice departure from the horror-stories I cook up in my brain. The comments from the man at the piercing shop blew me away. I'm sure he had no idea that he completely made my night.

Several hours later, my ear is aching dully, but even that can't remove the smile on my face. I need to clean up and go to bed, but I'm way too excited to have a chance at sleeping.

You can see my ear here.

It's coming...!

2009-11-02T23:12:00.005-06:00

I've done all the scheduling for my upcoming surgery that there is to do. I have my days off from work, as does my support person (I heart you, E!), and I have our hotel reservation, and I have the surgery itself scheduled. It's happening!

Being the queen of stress that I am, I'm still worried. I think my worry is in two parts. The first is simply that everything with the procedure goes smoothly. The doctor is a professional, and this looks to be a procedure that he's done quite a number of times, so I'm sure it will go very well. But as I've said in the past, I never let logic get in the way of a good anxiety attack. It seems to be simply the way I roll. I've learned so much about myself over this odyssey so far, and not all of it is positive; my anxiety about, like, everything is just another of those things. Fair enough. All my worry on that score will be moot on the 20th, after it's all done. So for the time being, I'll just go with it, and try not to make myself too crazy.

The second part of my worry, I figured out a few days ago. It's about my parents. They're not very accepting of my proposed changes, and would be very happy if I just forgot about all this madness and stayed the way I was. Which, of course, has a snowball's chance. But something like surgery... that seems pretty important. And if anything should go wrong, they'll be absolutely blind-sided with some really awful news. As much as they exasperate and upset me, I still think I should let them know.

I've discussed the situation with a number of people. One of my very close Second Life friends said "why do they have to know?" That is an excellent point; none of my family has seen me in the altogether since I was, what, 5? 6? And that surely won't be starting back up now. Another Second Lifer brought up the "what if, heaven forbid, something goes wrong?" Also a very valid point. They probably do need to know, just in case...

I've done quite a bit of thinking and worrying about this, and I think, based on the feedback I've gotten from everyone, that I'll tell my dad. The statement that he made during my coming-out talk with him, "whatever support you need, you will have," is carrying the day. If he wishes to tell my mother, or my sister, he can. That way, somebody will be in the loop, but it will be somebody with a more open mind, who might have a chance of handling it.

It's the least bad of the available options, I think. I feel that nothing with a gender transition is ever ideal - it's hard on everybody, emotionally, psychologically, and even physically, and there are people who simply can't make that transition in their hearts. It's the same thing that keeps so many of us in the closet, afraid to take that first step: we don't realize that we need to take a pretty big leap in our own hearts, before things can start to improve.

So, one day this will all be done, and my family will either be with me, or they won't. Parts will be, and are, with me, and I expect some parts to go away, probably forever. It's a shame that this will happen, but there's not really anything I can do, other than something that I won't do. All I can do is shrug to myself, and maybe hold out a little hope.

A new beginning

2009-10-19T20:04:00.005-05:00

This afternoon, I had some time between my hair removal appointments, so I took the opportunity to call the surgeon's office, to talk to them about orchiectomy. This has been one of the few definite items on my transition-to-do list, and it has been at the top of that list for a while now, so it was a simple decision to go ahead and schedule the procedure.

This marks a big step forward for me. Up to now, the alterations I've made to myself have either been minor, or can be reversed without much difficulty. This is a very different kind of turning point, because this change can not be undone. It is a rubicon, and there will be no turning back once it is crossed.

Not long ago, I would have been frightened beyond comprehension by such a point, but now it solidifies my resolve to see my path through to the end. I have worked very hard to make it this far, and some possible conclusions to this odyssey are now coming into view. All these tasks I've had to perform and obstacles I've had to overcome... it feels like all these pieces are at last approaching their final places. I am beginning to feel comfort in myself for the first time, as a result of all those pieces. I will not give that up, now that it is within reach. I will not give up. It is within neither my desire nor my power to stop, pause, divert, or change my destination.

Now it is up to me to simply take the step. And take it I shall.

Shifting perspectives

2009-10-18T16:36:00.002-05:00

I had a very interesting session with my therapist this week. For the entirety of it, we talked about my family's lack of acceptance, and what it means to me. And what I learned during this session, was something that would have taken me a long time to put together on my own.

I have left them behind.

That was quite a revelation to me. In thinking about it over the past few days, it's exactly correct. I am the one who's moving, changing, growing, and they are not willing to come along with me on my journey. In essence, I have rejected them. I presented myself and my path, and welcomed them to come along with me. They declined my invitation, so they are left to fend for themselves.

As I write these words, they sound so cold-blooded. But they are also absolutely true. I want to make my world into a place that's right for me — something that is well within my power to do — and they're not even willing to allow me to do that. I am long past the time of my youth, when they get to make decisions for me, and so they no longer to have the right to question the way in which I will live.

Many trans people worry, rightfully so, that their families will not accept the reality that is presented to them. It is a very real concern, that any given trans person will lose their family, simply because they want to follow where their heart tells them they must go. The family is the base, from which we all spring. Each person's family is supposed to be there for them, nurturing them, and loving them, and accepting them, no matter what. No matter what.

But "is supposed to be" and "is" are often two vastly different things.

Everyone needs a family of some sort. Since the people I've known as my family up to now are unwilling to take on that responsibility, it's up to me to find a new family, one which does accept and support and love me unconditionally. I do have such people in my life now, and I am grateful for them, every day. It's just such a incomprehensible change that I must now make, that the people who have meant "family" to me for my whole life, will no longer claim that label in my heart. I must welcome my new family members, at the same time I mourn the loss of the old. That will take some time.

The strangest part of this, to me, is the feeling of liberation that I had on the following days. I was no longer seeing myself as being held back by anyone but me. I was able to take a new step, and I can feel another one lurking under the surface of my thoughts. Limitations that were once firmly in place, seem to have fallen away, and I feel like I'm able to consider new directions for my path.

The green-eyed monster

2009-10-12T00:18:00.003-05:00

Jealousy.

It's one of the seven deadly sins. It is a destroyer of souls. It is an eradicator of joy and grace and love. It brings out the absolute worst in people, and turns them into caricatures of pettiness and alienation.

And it's come for a visit to my heart.

I know it's terrible for me to feel this way, and it's causing me a lot of stress that I do. A couple of people, neither of whom I know directly, are in very good situations. Both are trans girls, and both have completed their transitions. They're both extremely attractive, and seem to have winning personalities. Both have love and companionship, and seem comfortable and happy with their respective places in life.

And for my part, I have none of those things.

I'm still struggling day by day to figure out just who I'm supposed to be. Some days, like today, I get an "I have absolutely no business doing this" feeling. Other times, it's "I'll never get finished", or "I'll never pass, I'll just look like some dumb guy forever", or some other terrible thoughts. And somehow, I developed these awful feelings about people who I don't even really know, that are completely unjustified. They've probably both been in the exact same place that I am right now, and they might have even had those same feelings then, that I have now.

And as if that wasn't enough, I discovered that I have a terrible, hopeless crush on a girl. Not that most crushes aren't hopeless in the first place; just by their very nature, they're doomed to end in a broken heart. Mine came crashing to a fiery end this morning, and it hurts so much. The tears have been threatening to start all day, but I just don't want to go through that. The worst part is that I didn't even realize how much she meant to me until now, so a lot of these feelings seem like they're coming right out of the blue.

I don't think there's really any solution for me, other than to realize what I'm feeling, and that it is about as unproductive as any feelings can possibly be, and to work through them. It'll take time, and plenty of patience, and probably some tears, and perhaps a willingness to forgive myself.

It's been a while

2009-10-05T00:15:00.003-05:00

I came out to someone today, probably the first person I've come out to in a couple months.

It's interesting, I've had that same discussion with a whole bunch of people, and for a while there they were happening pretty often. Now that almost all my friends know, it's kind of fallen by the side, and I'm not really having to do it much any more. Don't misunderstand, I'm glad that people know and all that, but, I don't know, it almost seems like something is missing.

I've heard accounts of people post-transition, who think, "what now?" All the work and stress and so on, and once it's done and gone, what now indeed. Perhaps I've reached some intermediate what-now point.

There are a few more people I need to tell; a few other friends don't know yet, and then all of my extended family on my mom's side are still in the dark. My friends are all here, and it's just a matter of gathering a little courage and doing it. My family is another story. I don't live near any of them, so I think it might be more practical to talk to them over the phone. And based on the reactions from most of my family members so far, I'm not too excited about trying that again.

A light in the darkness

2009-09-28T00:54:00.004-05:00

I feel like I've been fighting to get out from underneath the dark cloak of depression, that has settled on me once again. There's no way to tell when it will come around, and there's no way to tell when it will vanish, nor how long it will be gone. I just have to be thankful when it does go away, and try to have patience and hope when it does come back around again.

The past couple weeks have been especially hard. It has been a bit since the darkness has come around, and I was hoping that it had perhaps gone for good. Though as Frost wrote, nothing gold can stay, and sure enough, the gold faded and tarnished and turned black. It came on so fast, and I was caught completely unaware. I don't think it was any worse this time than it ever was before, but time thankfully grants a degree of forgetfulness.

This past week, though, has shone a bright light under the cloak. I've been making steady progress toward my goal, though I have an inkling that my recent transition related stuff has been an oblique part of the problem. It's just an idea, though, so I'll keep it to myself for now.

This week I managed not one, not two, but three days out in femme mode. Wednesday was nice, though I was too tired to properly enjoy it. Friday, on the other hand, was the real turning point; on my way out, I could not help but have a big smile on my face. And this afternoon was the icing on the cake. I felt extremely good, and I think I looked pretty darned good, and that just made me so happy. And the fact that we had an extremely good gaming session today didn't hurt things at all.

Tomorrow I have my next appointment with the electrologist; I'm actually getting pretty excited about all the progress we're making. I feel like I've been a bit of a bore here lately, since that's about all I've had to talk about, but that's been foremost in my thoughts. Now that my emotions have come back to a place where I can function, I'm sure I'll have a wider variety of topics, and a more encouraging amount of words to share.

Gauntlet of pain

2009-09-21T21:55:00.005-05:00

My third hour of electrolysis is done. This appointment was the difficult one - the upper lip. Despite applying some numbing agent about a half-hour before we started, there was still a good amount of pain. My electrologist worked quickly, and finished up in just about an hour. Once she finished, she told me that she was with me, in my place, for every single one. She has been through facial electrolysis of her own, and so she has great empathy for everyone who lies on her table. Those kinds of things assure me that I chose the right person.

The work was done a few hours ago, and the redness has gone, but there is still a little bit of swelling, and it will be tender for the next couple days.

My next appointment will complete my lower lip. After that, further appointments ought to be able to get everything that pops up.

Two down, more yet to come

2009-09-14T21:52:00.003-05:00

My second electrolysis appointment was this evening. We've completed the initial clearing of everything on my neck and chin, and even got a couple long hairs out of my left ear, of all places. Things were starting to hurt a bit more this time; apparently there are a lot of nerve endings along the jawline. Right now, two hours after my appointment finished, my face is extremely itchy, and I'm doing my absolute best to not touch it.

The only major parts left are my upper lip and the area directly underneath my lower lip. The really sensitive parts. The really painful parts. I'm to arrive at her office an hour early for my next appointment, so I can apply some numbing agent to myself, and give it time to work before we start.

I'm feeling a whole lot better about this process this time, than I did last time. Though I think that was more a general emotional state, than anything having to do with the procedure.

I'm glad that's over...

2009-09-12T15:37:00.003-05:00

...whatever it was.

This week was shaping up to be an utter nightmare. It felt like I was sliding right back into the old depression from last year. Late last week was starting to get progressively more difficult; my energy level was low, and it felt like things were piling on once again. I saw my therapist on Tuesday, and we had a particularly difficult session. At one point she asked if I could look in the mirror and honestly say that I loved myself. I paused for a bit before I even opened my mouth, which told us both the real answer to her question.

She suggested that it might have something to do with my aunt's recent visit, and the contrast of her response to me with the rest of my family's responses. She is quite accepting, and even offered to connect me with some distant relatives who also have a trans person in their immediate family. My immediate family, of course, is quite a bit less than accepting. I'm sure that has brought back at least some of the stress that I thought was gone. I mean, it's pretty obvious that my family is having a lot of trouble with me, but it's neither my fault, nor my problem, and yet I keep making it into my problem. I can understand intellectually that it's them, not me, but that doesn't stop my heart from breaking when I think that I might no longer have my family for support once my transition goes further.

On Wednesday and Thursday, my feelings actually seemed to get worse. Wednesday was still just a down time, and I didn't have much interest in anything. During the day, I started answering a list of questions my therapist gave me for homework; they all asked about things with my family, and they weren't pleasant to think about. Once Thursday rolled around, I couldn't sit still. I kept trying to do different things, but I couldn't generate any enthusiasm for anything. I must have cycled through a half-dozen different things in the space of an hour on Thursday evening, and all each new activity did was make me angrier. I ended up just going to bed out of sheer frustration.

But then when I went to C & E's last night... all that bad stuff just evaporated. In the car on the way over, I felt so comfortable and happy; it didn't quite make sense to me. The entire evening was a smiley time, and when I was cleaning up before bed, I felt like it was easy to love myself. Such a huge switch. I'm still at a loss for words about it.

This morning it occurred to me that it could just be a PMS-type thing again, but it seemed to last a bit longer this time, and also came a little too quickly on the heels of the last one. Or maybe I'm not necessarily on a cycle, but have extreme emotional responses to things now, and it will take some time to learn how to deal with them.

Sometimes this whole transition thing is very, very confusing.

Progress, or something

2009-09-09T20:43:00.004-05:00

Over the past month, I've been trying to gather the courage to start back up with my hair removal. The laser treatment has been done for a few months now, so it's time to start electrolysis.

It's been hard to get going - a lot more difficult than starting any other process has been for me - and I'm not at all sure why. It's not the pain, or the cost, or anything about the procedures that is causing me anxiety. I knew about all those long ago, and I've known for a long time that I would need to go through the process of finding an electrologist. I feel like I've reached some impasse, and even this is not the thing I need to do in order to progress. In previous months, the various stumbling points have been related directly to the things I needed to start in order to progress - physical changes that needed to happen. This is another physical change, of course, but it just doesn't feel like this is some sort of turning point for me.

Regardless, it's something that I've needed to get started, so I went through my typical stalling and anxiety. I made my telephone calls, and did all my stuff, and found an electrologist with whom I'm comfortable. Now that I have finally found a person to do the work, it's just not that big a deal. I had my first hour of treatment yesterday. It was mildly painful, but it was WAY less so than a similar hour of laser treatment. A day later, my chin is still tender, but things are underway.

So why am I not happy that I'm finally progressing again?

Turnabout

2009-08-30T07:32:00.003-05:00

Last night as I was attempting (and failing) to sleep, I had a moment of intuition. I've been feeling weird lately about seeing and meeting new people, even if our meeting has nothing to do with my gender stuff. My body is no longer "standard" male, and though I still present that way most of the time, I'm not sure how well I can pass in that role anymore. And more to the point, I'm not sure how much I want to pass in that role anymore. But of course, there are physical parts of me that aren't quite ready to make the full-time switch, and a whole lot of emotional parts that aren't ready either.

Quite the conundrum, though I don't think there's actually anything to "figure out". I'll just have to keep having courage, and moving in a good direction, and just take it day by day.

Party!

2009-08-23T23:00:00.001-05:00

You say it's your birthday!
It's my birthday too, yeah!
They say it's your birthday!
We're gonna have a good time!
I'm glad it's your birthday!
Happy birthday to you!
— The Beatles

It's that time again... time to get older! Wait, no, that's not quite it. It's birthday time, so it's time to have fun and celebrate. Yes, that's better.

Last year, I had a whole bunch of people over, and that was fun, but not quite what I wanted this time. Instead, I was hoping for something a little simpler, just dinner with some friends. So I invited C & E, and K & L, and the other K. And of course since it's my birthday, I also wanted to make something exotic for dinner. This is me we're talking about, after all.

Everything went fine, with the typical dramatic moments. My dish, a beef wellington... I've done better. I was actually thrown out of my kitchen for part of it, because I was having trouble with the pastry, and starting to get upset. But it was edible, and everyone enjoyed everything, so it was fun.

It was also K's first time to see me in femme-mode. Both he and L missed pronouns a time or two, but they spend very little time around me in girl mode, so I just corrected and moved on. I have no illusions that it will take some people a while to get used to the new words; K has known me for longer than anybody else, with the exception of my family, so he's got a whole lot of history to unlearn. C and E have a whole lot of head start on everyone, and even they slip every once in a while.

One step forward, and something else entirely

2009-08-22T20:38:00.004-05:00

Today was quite the emotional rollercoaster. Huge amounts of stress, with a stress chaser, followed by a pretty nice evening.

My aunt is in town this weekend, which is pretty awesome in general. She came to town to see if she could help with my dad and his drinking. We plotted a little, and decided that we were going to have an intervention for him on Saturday morning. That was almost as stressful as when I came out to my mom. When the time came, we all stalled a bit, but once we got started, we all said the things we wanted to say. It went about as well as I had expected it to go, which is to say it didn't seem to make an immediate dent. I guess that can be as much a process as anything I've been dealing with lately. Patience, I guess, is the word here.

After all the morning fireworks, my aunt and I had plans to have lunch, and do some food shopping. We had traded a few emails a few weeks ago, and in that exchange I had told her that I had something I needed to talk about (the coming-out talk, of course), and that we could do that while she was here. Unfortunately there's no way that I've found to make that not sound ominous, so I think she was a little concerned. As we drove to lunch, we had a good talk about what's going on with me, and where I'm headed, and the discussion continued as we ate. We talked about not just me and my path, but a lot of the family stuff that's going on.

So after that, we went down to the Central Market, since I had to do some shopping for tomorrow night's dinner; some friends are coming over for my birthday, and I'm going to make a beef wellington. We had a super fun time, and I got some really nice food. Once we got back and put away all the groceries, we talked a little more, and I showed her photos and some of the things I've been doing over the past several months, and played my drums for her a little bit. Then we headed back over to my folks' and had dinner and birthday cake and presents. So it ended up being a nice and relaxed evening, after all the excitement of earlier in the day.

It's "Beat up on Trinity" time again

2009-08-09T12:16:00.003-05:00

I have this terrible habit of beating up on myself. It usually happens whenever there is a new hurdle in my path, and I'm having a hard time even jumping, let alone getting over it. And new hurdles usually coincide with something coming up that I need to work on, that makes me feel less-than-complete.

The current hurdle is my dumb facial hair, which has returned. My course of laser treatment is done, and though I could go back and have them treat the area again, it's probable that there would be very little ultimate change to the areas that remain. The only result is that the completion of getting rid of it would be delayed. So that isn't much of an option.

The only other option - and I knew this would come up eventually - is to find an electrologist, and start a course of electrology treatments. It will be painful, and it will be time-consuming and costly, and all that... but in the end, my goal will be reached, and I will not have to think about it any more. So why don't I just do what I need to do?

Because I'm afraid.

I don't know what is making me so afraid, though. I've been doing various other things with various other professionals: laser hair removal, voice therapy, psychotherapy. I've been out into the wide world, with people who didn't know me at all. I've driven across the country and been my girl-self with a bunch of people I'd never met in the flesh before; more than a couple of them commented how settled I seemed in the girl role. In all honesty, I do feel settled when I don't have to think about all the stuff I have to do. I guess it's when I start thinking about it, is when the trouble starts. Like now.

A friend recently asked if there was something she could do to help. Actually, others have offered the same thing in the past, when I had other difficult steps to take. It would certainly be easy to simply have someone else make the initial call, but how would that really benefit me? I'm not pushing my boundaries, I'm not growing, I'm not improving. It seems like each one of these hurdles is another opportunity for me to break out of the prison of fear that still lives in my heart, even for just a little while.

It seems like every time I write about this, I end up with just as many questions as when I started. I'll figure this out one of these days.

Trinity gets political!

2009-08-06T19:34:00.006-05:00

I have long held mixed opinions about people who are strongly involved in the political process. On one hand, I admire them for having the courage to follow through with their convictions. Political change can often take years, or even generations, and one might never reap the benefits of changes that they started in their own lifetimes. It can be a very selfless act, sacrificing one's time for positive change, which they may never see, but is truly necessary.

On the other hand, I wonder why anyone would beat their head against the wall of no-progress and tyranny of the majority. Regime changes can often interrupt positive change, and set activists back, possibly to the very beginning of their process. Also, many politicians are not in the game to make positive contributions, but rather to thwart any progress by "the other side", simply because it is the opposition. And that's not to mention the corrupt politicians who sell themselves to the highest bidder, and make it impossible for ordinary citizens to be honestly represented in the government.

Earlier this week, the United States Senate introduced a new bill, S.1584, which is more popularly known as the Employment Non-Discrimination Act. It provides protection for employees from being fired based on their sexual orientation or gender identity. This is something for which activists have been lobbying for many years now, but for a variety of reasons, it hasn't done well. Earlier this year, the House of Representatives passed a version of ENDA, H.R. 3017, which finally included protections for trans people. The Senate version takes the similarly bold and necessary step of including all groups. I'm not sure when the Senate might vote on the measure.

This afternoon, I sent messages to Senators John Cornyn and Kay Bailey Hutchison, who represent the state of Texas, urging them to support this new resolution. I got an automated response from Senator Cornyn, and nothing yet from Senator Hutchison. But this is the first issue about which I've ever felt strongly enough to take the time and effort to contact people who represent me, to ask them to support me by supporting the legislation. I don't know if my efforts will come to anything, but I can say that I put forth some effort and used my voice to make a statement.

Checkup... thumbs up!

2009-07-27T21:01:00.004-05:00

I had a checkup with my ob/gyn this afternoon. He wanted to see me 4 months since I last went, and that time was up about now; plus, I had some questions to ask him about a few different things. It took forever to actually get into the office, as his staff had apparently overbooked him pretty badly today. Once I finally got to see him, we talked about how I was feeling (good), and how the hormones were doing (well), and if I was happy with the results so far (yes).

For my questions, I had three for him. The first was his opinion on what progesterone might do for me. He basically said "not much", which was in line with what the plastic surgeon said. No surprises there.

The next question was about finding a surgeon to perform an orchiectomy. We talked a little about my overarching plan for the surgeries that I wanted, and I told him, as I've said all along, SRS is too big a surgery, and the risks totally outweigh the benefits that I could see it bringing me. My dysphoria is more social than physical, and with this surgery I'm looking to simplify things for me, rather than to radically reshape my body. He said that he didn't perform the surgery, and that I would need to see a urologist. I asked if he knew a doctor who did perform them, and he said the one person he knew in town didn't do them anymore. But he said that he would make some calls, and he would get back to me in a couple of weeks. I figured that since he does treat a number of trans people, he would be in a much better position than me to know, or to be able to find somebody. Also, on a more personal note, I'm his patient, and I feel certain that he wouldn't send me to somebody who he didn't trust, or who didn't have a good reputation.

My last question was something my therapist mentioned, regarding a letter that I could take with me that briefly notes both my names, and says that I am under treatment for gender reassignment. Now that I'm going out in public, that's one thing that has concerned me a bit - my identification doesn't match my presentation, and that could cause more trouble than I care to have. He said yes, he's the one who gives those, and immediately got one of his office people to write one up for me. She had a form letter, so she just had to put in my names and print it out for the doctor to sign. It was simple as could be.

He wants to see me for another checkup in 6 months or so. If all goes according to my vague plan for facial surgery early next year, I'll get in to see him before I head off to the plastic surgeon.

Things just keep coming together bit by bit. When I take a step back and look at everything that's happening, I'm very excited with my progress, and it brings a smile to my face. It's actually happening!

Grrrr...

2009-07-24T09:58:00.004-05:00

So right now I'm experiencing a measure of what I'm guessing PMS is all about. I talked with some of the girls I know in Second Life, and they all said, yes, that's about how it is. It's certainly not the best thing in the world.

Yesterday on my bus ride home, I was suddenly struck by such a wave of anger, I could not wait to get off and away from all those people. It really surprised and concerned me. Where did it come from? Who was making me so upset? Surely it couldn't have been my hormone levels, since my dosages have remained the same? Or perhaps my body reacts to them in a cycle of some sort, of which I have been unaware up to now. I spent most of last night wanting to tear into somebody, or take the mutes off my drums and wail on them for a while. All my aggressive feelings made me wonder if my male parts were trying to reassert themselves in some vain attempt. I just didn't know what was going on.

Today, I've got a low headache and I feel like I'm about to burst into tears at any moment. I feel ugly and awful and disgusting. I don't think I slept very well, because I looked very tired as I was getting ready for work this morning. As I was driving to the park and ride, I decided that I just couldn't deal with people today, so I went back home, and am taking a sick day. I'm just reading and taking it easy, and I'll probably have a nap in a while.

I guess the part that worries me so much is the speed with which it came on, and the fact that it seemed totally unrelated to anything that was going on around me. This is totally new for me, and it's not a little frightening. Talking with some people who had a better clue what was going on definitely helped soothe my fears. Hopefully tomorrow I'll feel a bit better?

Out and about

2009-07-22T19:42:00.004-05:00

This past Sunday was a big day for me. Not only did it signal a return to a more normal Monday-through-Friday work schedule (yaaay!), but it was also a full day of presenting femme out in the world. I was, of course, scared to death for a decent amount of it, but I got out there and did it, and lived through everything.

First, my friend L and I had planned to see the new Harry Potter film together, and since she was out of town on opening night, we decided instead that Sunday was the day. I invited a few other friends along - C, E, and K - and E declared that she would only go to the movies with me if I presented female. Ok, sure. It surprised me a little bit that I wasn't more hesitant when she first made her requirement, but once I got out there and was trying to get out of the car, it jumped up to a whole new level of significance.

But neither the movie nor my friends were going to wait for me, so I got out and walked to the box office. I got my ticket without incident, and we all met up inside. As we walked to the theatre, L asked quietly if I was still breathing, which helped lighten my panic a bit. And of course, everybody had to go to the bathroom before sitting down, so I went too. This wasn't the first time I've been in a ladies' room, but it was the first time I've been in a ladies' room when there were other ladies in there. One looked me right in the face, and made no reaction. So I guess everything was ok.

After the movie ended and we were walking out, there were a bunch of people coming toward us, and I just tried to not think about them too much. I've still got a way to go to get over all my anxiety, but at least I'm out there confronting it, rather than wallowing in it.

The next encounter: my role-playing gaming group met on Sunday too. Neither of them had seen me in girl-mode before, so that was a new experience for everyone. We didn't really get much gaming done since we were sort of in-between campaigns, but we did a lot of visiting, and it was a good opportunity to practice some of the new voice things I've been learning. J didn't do too well with either name or pronouns at the start, but he started getting it a bit later on. D did pretty well for most of the afternoon; he ma'am'ed me a whole bunch of times, without even hesitating, which made me feel really nice. But for a first time, it went well; everybody made an effort, and I made an effort not to be upset when they inevitably slipped. It will get easier on everyone as time goes on.

So now the gamers know the real me. That's been a huge emotional hurdle for me, coming out to them. I'm sure it doesn't matter to them how I present, so I think I'll just present girl-mode to them from now on. It's something I'll do all the time eventually, and they're another group who knows me and cares for me, so that can be another comfortable part of my week.

Nobody got the memo...

2009-07-16T19:54:00.004-05:00

I'm still catching up on some of my posts, so please bear with me.

Last Monday, I went out into the wide world in girl-mode for the very first time. It was scary, and exhilarating, and fun, and ultimately it was no big deal.

My friend P, who I haven't seen in ten years, was in town for a visit, and we had planned to have dinner that evening. He's been so supportive and almost nonchalant about my change, and I thought it would be fun to spend the evening with him in my proper form. I picked him up from the airport, and off we went. I had to go by C & E's for some last minute help with the dress I was making for my vacation, so that was our first stop. E helped me with the things I needed, and then we visited for a while. P declared that he was terribly hungry, and since I hadn't eaten much since lunch, I was as well. E headed off to bed, and C, P and I went out for dinner. It had gotten rather late, so the first 3 places we tried to go were closed. We finally found a place, and went in.

I was first through the door, and was surprised that I felt very little anxiety. I was with two people who knew me and cared for me, and I knew that they would not put up with anyone treating me badly. We sat, and ordered, and ate, and left. Nobody batted an eye, or stared, or said a thing.

The next day, as P and I (in boy-mode) were having dinner, we talked about the experience a bit. I told him that I have a lot of anxiety about people treating me badly when they first see me. His comment was that "nobody got the memo that you're the center of the universe." And he was precisely correct - I'm not the center of the universe. Everybody is wrapped up in their own stuff, that most will probably not take much notice of me at all. I'm weird, but I'm not threatening them, so... so what.

That same phrase became my mantra a few days later, when I was halfway across the country, and about to walk out of my hotel room, to meet a bunch of people I'd never seen in real life. Nobody got that memo, Trinity. Nobody really cares. It helped a lot, and it continues to help me. I'm getting the feeling that yes, I really can do this. So I'm going to try to get out there and do it.

Pride

2009-07-11T08:46:00.004-05:00

This will be one in a series of catchup posts. I should have posted this two weeks ago, when it actually happened, but for one reason or another, I didn't.

The Houston Pride Parade occurred on the 27th of June, and despite my typical crowd anxiety (again with the anxiety?), I really wanted to go. I certainly wasn't going to brave an estimated 150,000 person crowd alone, so I asked L if she was available that day. She already had plans, and funnily enough, she said she's got crowd anxiety stuff too. I mentioned that it was occurring to C and E, and that I would really like to go see. C volunteered, and so off we went.

I debated for a few days on whether I wanted to present femme there. I thought that of any place, that would be a safe enough place. After all, these were some of "my people". But then all my anxiety basically overruled my reasoning; at the time, I had not been in girl-mode out "in the wild", and I was still very uninterested in even taking the risk of being the recipient of pointing and laughing. Me and my anxiety. I don't say, you say? Sure, sure.

So we went. We parked several blocks away, as I knew that both traffic and parking was going to be a complete nightmare. On the walk to the parade route, I kept fighting the urge to turn around. I really can't stand crowds; a crowd situation can, and often does, turn even the most mild-mannered person into a comple jerk. Shove, shove, push, and the inevitability of somebody taller standing in front of little old me. Sigh.

We got to the route about 20 minutes before the parade was to start, and worked our way slowly down the side of the street, looking for a good place to stand. We found a spot not too far down, behind a group of girls who had brought their lawn chairs. I could see! That was a bit of a choke point for all the people walking by, so there was plenty of movement there, but we were able to squeeze in behind the seated people without too much problem.

The parade started late. That's a given for something like this, though. I can't remember how late, but I think it was at least a half-hour. Maybe closer to an hour? However late it was, it gave me the opportunity to do some good people watching. And because we were right next to a constant stream of people moving by us, there was a lot of really interesting people-watching to do. People in every size, shape, color, and description. There were also several guys on the street, in the parade route, apparently trying to rile up the crowd.

One the parade started, some of the groups who were represented surprised me a little. There were probably a dozen different churches and religious groups. There was a couple of legal offices. All the candidates for the upcoming mayoral election were there; some even had floats. The diversity councils from several of the large oil companies had their entire contingents marching. The Houston Pride Band was there. HTGA and STAG were there. PFLAG was certainly there. Several LGBT-positive nightclubs had groups there. It was a cacophony of different groups, but it was a beautiful noise.

The crowd got more rowdy as the parade went on, which is fairly typical when there is a lot of drinking going on. Drunken gays and lesbians are just as boorish as drunken straight people. The gay guys who basically pushed in front of me and prevented me from seeing, were completely obnoxious and really drunk. There was another girl who insisted on having her hands on her hips, with her elbows way out wide, practically poking me in the still-tender boobs every time she moved. The supremely drunk lesbian to my left, who could barely stand up, and whose slurred speech could barely be understood, was just embarrassing. In the "we're just like everyone else" theme, drunken assholes are drunken assholes, no matter their race, creed, color, sexual orientation, or gender identity. Why do people insist on doing that to themselves, and ruining everyone else's fun?

After the parade was over, C and I started walking to find a place to get some food. I had been so worked up, I hadn't eaten dinner, and I think C ate a bit of a snack before we left, so we were both pretty hungry. We settled on a pizza place that sold by the slice, several blocks away from where we stood to watch the parade. There were several other parade-watchers there, so it was an interesting crowd. I was still too keyed up to eat much, but was able to take the raw edge off my hunger. C's stomach is a bottomless pit, so he just piled it in.

On the trek back to the car, we passed by a group in which C thought he recognized someone. We stopped to talk to them, and the person turned out to not be who he thought it was. Though one of the group of three was fairly drunk, she was still very respectful and pleasant, and wanted pictures of both of us. It was cute.

So all in all it was more positive than negative. I got home foolishly late, and I was very tired, but it was a good experience.

Meeting the Fracturelings

2009-07-11T03:26:00.005-05:00

Today was quite a full day. I made it through several firsts, not the least of which was my in-office meeting with the plastic surgeon, and in femme-mode, no less. His office was barely-restrained pandemonium, so we were running quite late when he was finally able to talk to me. But talk, he did! He was a whirlwind of information, and sometimes it was even a little hard to keep up. He did a really good job of explaining things, and augmented a lot of his explanations with pictures. He gave me a very comfortable feeling about his level of expertise, and much more importantly, his dedication to his craft, and his pure enjoyment of what he does. He helps people, and it comes through loud and clear that he gets a great deal of satisfaction from it.

So I think I'll have him do the work we've discussed. And my tentative timeline is January 2010. That seems like plenty of time for me to get things finished up which need to be finished.

The other big important thing that I did today was that I spent the entire day in girl-mode. And I was in my hotel room for very little of it. I went over to N and B's to meet some of the Fracturelings who were in town for Fracturecon, though most were either asleep or elsewhere. I had a good hour of conversation with N before I had to leave for the drive into Chicago for my consultation with the surgeon.

Once I got to Chicago, I met up with J for lunch before the appointment, and she came with me to the session with the doctor, and then after some mind-bending traffic, she came back to Milwaukee with me. We had a super pleasant time together, and seeing her again tomorrow will be another fun time.

One thing that multiple people have said to me, is how settled within myself that I seem to be. At the time, I thought, oh no way, I'm just out here flailing. But the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. I've been going out in girl-mode for around a year, and I've gotten much more comfortable with both my physical presentation, and with the role which my presentation entails.

The other thing that struck me was the complete lack of reaction most people had to me. I did get a few funny looks when I was picking a few last-minute items up at the grocery for the dinner I cooked for everyone. But I was there to get groceries, and most people were there to do the same thing. When J and I had lunch, it was almost exactly the same way; we sat and ate, and everyone else was just doing the same thing. So it's helping to drive the point home that either (a) I pass really well, or (b) most people couldn't care less. I'm assuming choice B.

I am just so full of good feelings from meeting all the Fracture people in real-life tonight. It was a completely affirming thing, as I always knew it would be.

Busy, busy!

2009-07-08T21:35:00.004-05:00

You know that old saying, "the harder I work, the behinder I get"? That's just how I'm feeling right now. I've got three blog posts that I want to make, dating from last weekend, and I've got more work to do on my dress, and I'm in the middle of an across-the-country road trip, and, and, and. I feel like I'm not finishing anything properly, and being the perfectionist that I am, doing something halfway is probably worse than not doing it at all.

Sigh.

I'm whining. I'm tired, and cranky, and not very comfortable, and I still have a couple hours' work to finish up some important things on my new dress before I can go to bed.

Road trips are no fun. I always forget that, and then I'm given the rudest of awakenings when I take one. They're exhausting, and the road has absolutely no mercy - you have to complete the distance, no matter what. But, I'm halfway done, and I'm doing it, and when I get to the end and see everyone who I'm going to see, it will be worth it. Tomorrow will be better. The reason for my journey will come to pass. I will be surrounded by friends, and there will be fun and merriment.

Right now, I would be content with a refreshing beverage, and my work being done. That doesn't seem like too much to ask. Magic 8-ball says: my sources say no.

Exercise works for other things too

2009-07-03T15:42:00.003-05:00

We all know that exercise is not usually the easiest thing to do - it taxes the body, so that we can learn how to make our body work better. Voice exercises, as I'm finding out, are no different. The first few times I did my readings, I either overdid a bit, or I'm just not used to the amount of breathing that I'm doing; I felt faint and lightheaded, which made me feel a little below average, and also rather frustrated me. Since then, however, I've gotten used to it a bit, and I'm not having nearly as much trouble, either physically or emotionally. So, it seems to be working, which, of course, is the point of the whole thing.

I asked S, my speech therapist, whether it would be worthwhile to record myself when doing my exercises, and she said that yes, it would give me some good feedback to hear what these new things are doing for me. The first couple days, I just spoke my phrases, and didn't record. I just wanted to get the hang of it, and, truth be told, I was a little afraid, based on the non-progress from my earlier attempts. Yesterday evening, I felt like I had it pretty well, and my curiosity finally overcame my fear, so I started the recording program.

Well. Veeery interesting. I can certainly hear the difference in quality. I know that what I'm doing right now is exaggerated, but I think I've got an idea of where my voice training will be going over the next weeks. This morning, I recorded a few more of my phrases, just to see if I was hearing things, or if it was a fluke. No, there's definitely... something there.

I'm actually kind of excited to continue these sessions, since I can already hear some improvement. I'm making some progress!

Voices inside my head

2009-06-29T17:58:00.005-05:00

This morning, I went to my first appointment with the voice therapist. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the things she had me do - read a bunch of words and phrases, sometimes with differing inflections - didn't really surprise me. One of the exercises turned out really silly; I read the same phrase several times, stressing a different word each time, and she interjected questions which prompted the new stress. I'm not sure who started laughing first, but we both had fun with that one.

My first "homework" exercise, which I am to do three times a day, is to read several words and phrases, working on breath control in a particular way, and avoiding some of the things I currently do, which she pointed out to me as not particularly feminine. I'm set up to go weekly to work with her. I hope I do well, since this is one of the things that really causes me anxiety. It's also kind of amusing to me that all the work that we did in high school choir on posture and breath control, will be very helpful with my voice exercises.

Having to recall those exercises from high school reminded me of another important moment. The first, clearest memory that I have of gender weirdness occurred in choir class when I was a freshman. My voice hadn't yet started to change, and I was still a soprano, but almost all freshman boys, including me, went into boys' choir. While we were doing warmup exercises at the beginning of class one day, one of the guys who was sitting next to me happened to hear something a little strange, and moved so he could hear me. I was singing in my normal register, which just so happened to match that of our choir director - that of a girl. I took a bit of ribbing over that, but at the same time I remember feeling something else. Perhaps a feeling of rightness? Satisfaction that I was recognized in the way which I really felt? It registered as a weird feeling at the time, but it did make an impression. A few months later, shortly after the spring semester had started, puberty hit, and by the end of the school year I had turned into a baritone. But in retrospect, it was a rather nice affirmation, even if I didn't fully recognize it as one right then, and especially since it hadn't been meant that way.

A new dress for me

2009-06-21T22:50:00.000-05:00

I've been invited to go to a wedding on July 11, and of course weddings and new dresses go hand in hand. And being the DIY girl that I am, I decided that I could make my own. I searched for quite a while for a pattern that was pretty close to what I wanted. Once I found one, I did my alterations and made a test version out of inexpensive fabric to test fit and look. I finished the test dress on Friday, and everything looked really good, so next I needed to pick fabric for the real one.

I asked E if she could spare a few hours yesterday, to go to the huge fabric store in town. She was able to go with me, and we took quite a while just looking at lots of fabrics of various kinds, and talking about what we both thought. She is a more experienced seamstress than I am, and she's also got really good color sense, so her input was very helpful. Finally, though, we found something that both of us thought was awesome. It's deep red, and it's crinkly, and it's going to be super cute.

After that, we went back to my place so we could check the fit of the test dress. Only one spot obviously didn't fit properly, and one other spot just needed a little more give, but the changes are pretty minor. I'll alter the pattern and start working on it tomorrow. It's going to be awesome!

Out, out, I say!

2009-06-19T02:03:00.002-05:00

I finally managed to have my coming out talk with the final member of my gaming group tonight. Since we had plenty of time alone as I drove home (he gets road hypnosis pretty badly at night, so we carpool), I decided that I had stalled for long enough, and started out with "there's something I need to talk to you about."

I had to do a little more explaining to him, though I think it was more clarifying just what was going on, rather than him not knowing what the word meant. He's a pretty smart guy, and he thinks on his feet very well, so he had questions almost instantly. Some of his questions were a bit personal, but I tried to answer them as clearly as I was willing. I'm sure he'll have many more questions as time goes on, as he's a very inquisitive sort. But he said that I could count him among the wildly supportive. Yaay!

Earlier this week, I had a talk with another of my coworkers. We planned to take a walk to get breakfast, while I told him whatever it was that I needed to tell him. I was running late that day, of all days, so we were a bit rushed. I got everything out that I wanted to say, and he was supportive and understanding. He mirrored some of the thoughts about the boss and some of the other members of our group, of the other guys at work who know. He did caution me to be a bit careful of who I tell. I certainly have been; some people will know what's coming, and some people will have that bomb dropped on them at the very last minute.

It was a good week to come out to people. It's been a good month for transition-related things for me. Perhaps that it's Pride Month might have something to do with it? Or maybe it's just that I'm finally feeling comfortable with myself, and what I'm doing, and where I'm going, that it's becoming a lot easier to tell others about myself. That's such a good thing; a year ago it would have been next to impossible to imagine being where I am now.

It's late, so I'm off to dream happy dreams.

A happy fog

2009-06-17T21:04:00.004-05:00

This morning was my phone consultation with the plastic surgeon. The procedure was interesting: I was to page a number at 9:00, and the doctor would then call me back at the number I left. The few minutes leading up to my call, though... my hands were shaking, and I had to pee. I just get too worked up over these things.

He called back after about 15 minutes, and immediately apologized for keeping me waiting. We talked about my coming to his office for an in-person consultation in early July, since I'll be passing through his city; we're all set up for that, and I just need to call his office tomorrow to confirm with his staff.

Then he got down to a short consultation. I should have made this post directly after the call, because I've forgotten some of the things he said. But I do remember that he was very excited about my eyes, and said that they were <gulp> beautiful, and that he could make me not just passable, but "a knockout". Gulp indeed. I have never in my life had somebody talk about me in such a way. I'm still not sure what to think about that. But it made me feel really nice.

He went through some details on some of the procedures he suggested, talking a bit about some of the reasoning, and differences in shape between boys' and girls' faces, and even some high-level overviews of what the procedures themselves entailed. That was pretty interesting. Seeing surgery programs on television gross me out, but hearing about these types of things in a more academic way really wakes up my how-it's-made, nuts-and-bolts persona.

At the end, he got down to pricing. Wow. We're talking decent car pricing. I knew it was going to be expensive, but not quite that expensive. I shall have to save my pennies. Many, many pennies.

After the consultation, I went to work, and I was in sort of a fog for most of the day. Me, a knockout? Half a day later, and I'm still trying to wrap my mind around that. But the fog in my head was a happy one, so I won't complain.

Response!

2009-06-14T17:05:00.004-05:00

I received an email this morning from the plastic surgeon's assistant, asking if a Wednesday morning phone consultation would be good for me. I couldn't email back quickly enough to tell her that time would be fine! She will apparently follow up with instructions on what I'll have to do for the call; I don't expect to see those before tomorrow, when the office is actually open.

I've been waiting with bated breath to hear back, and now that I have, I'm very excited! I'm not at all sure what to expect. My standard response would be to begin worrying every possible thing, but I think I'll just let it go and see what happens.

A new page?

2009-06-12T21:33:00.005-05:00

I've had a sneaking feeling in my heart for some time now, that with all this physical change, I'm on the verge of some sort of emotional or personal change too. There's some sort of big inflection point lurking out there, and I'm rushing headlong toward it. I don't know when I'll get there, and I don't know what will happen when I do reach it. And perhaps that's what is making me so crazy about the whole thing - I don't usually do well with The Unknown.

Lately, I've just wanted to take a breath and take a break from everything. Everything that I do that's typical, I just want to stop for a while. Take another look. See if it's really working.

But I worry that in all this pausing and reexamination, if I'm just trying to disconnect. I've spent all these years of my life being disconnected from everything, including myself. Now I'm able to connect on a real level with other people, and most importantly with myself. I am making connections. So why would I want to question those? Why would I want to risk those connections? Could it be too much, too fast? Or is it something else?

My mom has commented that since I've started coming out, that I've seemed much busier. And I certainly have been - I visit people, and do things online with people; for once, I've got a reasonably full social schedule. A bit limited, but I'm out and connecting with people. Busy in that way is good, isn't it? Well, for somebody who has always treasured her personal time, busy isn't quite as good as it sounds. I have basically one day each week when I can do my own thing, and most of the time I'm too tired on that day, so I end up doing nothing. And that frustrates me to no end. I feel like I'm not accomplishing anything.

I'm going to have to spend some more time figuring this out. Maybe I can take a partial break from some things. Pare down, but not cut off. I'm pretty mercenary with my time with work, but I don't want to be some unavailable ice-queen in my personal life too. I want to keep those connections that I've made. I want to make new connections. And I want to strike out and try some new things. To have the time to try new things. And maybe more importantly, to have the courage to try new things.

The good, the lame, and the painful

2009-06-12T15:24:00.005-05:00

When the week started out, it seemed like it was going to be Week of Coming Out. Three coming-out conversations in as many days, wow! As the days wore on, well, lots of things sort of fell apart. Tuesday, I was able to have a talk with another of my coworkers, J, and he was mildly surprised, I think, but said that he's known another person who's transitioned before. So that worked out really well.

Just before lunchtime on Tuesday, another of the group asked if I minded his tagging along with J and I for lunch that day, and I said with a smile, "kind of, yes." That sort of ran the whole conversation straight off the rails; it was actually pretty funny. Once the first guy had his laughs and walked away, one of the other guys was curious about my "top secret lunch". I offered to give him a top-secret lunch of his own on the following day. He'll get one eventually, so now is as good a time as any, I reasoned. Wednesday lunchtime came, and he had something else going on. Thursday lunchtime came, and he'd apparently forgotten about the whole thing. I'm sure I'll have to make the suggestion again. He's a few years older than me, and he's pretty laid back, so I'm pretty positive that he'll be fine, though I'm guessing that he'll be more inquisitive than the other two who are in the loop.

Thursday, I was all set to come out to a member of my gaming group. We play way up on the north end of town on Thursdays, and it takes 30 or 40 minutes to get there. Alone in the car, time on our hands - about as perfect a time to have such a conversation that I can imagine. Well, he had to work late, and was really tired when he got home, and I got going kind of late, so we ended up not even going. Which means, of course, that we didn't get have our talk, either. I think he, like my coworker, has probably forgotten about the important conversation that I told him we needed to have. Next week, for sure! No, really, I'm serious. Serious Trinity is SERIOUS.

Ahem.

So, another thing that did happen this week, earlier today, in fact. I went for the first of my new laser hair removal treatments, on the bottom half of my body - legs and bottom. Oh. Em. Gee. I thought the upper lip was painful during my facial treatments? Child's play compared to some spots in this latest treatment. The treatment itself lasted a little over two hours; while the nurse was able to zip along pretty quickly with the laser probe, there was a LOT more area to cover. Once she got to the, erm, areas with lots of nerve endings... holy socks. And yaay, I get to do this two more times. Experience has taught me that subsequent treatments are never as bad as the first, but still.

Despite the initial pain, and the lingering discomfort, I feel a great sense of accomplishment. I decided that I wanted to do this, and I got everything set up for it, and I did it. Sometimes that feeling is hazy and amorphous, but in this case, it's very clear and definite, and I think it's almost even more important to me than the actual physical results of the treatment. Not to discount those, certainly; the experience is already helping me feel better about my body. It also seems to reinforce that I shouldn't be afraid of changes. Changes are what my whole journey is about: changes toward making me a happier, and more comfortable, and more "whole" person.

100th post!

2009-06-07T22:45:00.004-05:00

How exciting, I have something really good to talk about, and on my centenary blog post too! Yaay me!

I spent some time this evening downloading all the images from yesterday's shoot from the memory card and picking through them. I'm still relatively new to doing digital photos, so it took me a while to do what little touching up they needed; there was some weird flare on one, and I adjusted the contrast on all of them. But I got them all finished and zipped up, so I had absolutely no excuse not to send them in. I completed the contact form on the surgeon's website, and then sent along the photos in a follow up email, as he requests.

So it's done. Now, I wait.

I want to thank everyone who's been following along for all hundred posts, and also those who have come in somewhere in the middle. I write this for you, as much as for me. You've all given me some lovely feedback on both the content and the style of my writing, and that's one of the things that keeps me coming back to write - your feedback. I hope I can remain interesting and engaging enough for another hundred posts, and I hope you'll continue to follow along with me as I make my journey. Much love to you all!

We have photos!

2009-06-06T17:04:00.004-05:00

L came over this afternoon to shoot photos of me. We spent a good while trying a couple different lighting schemes, and we got plenty of images that make me very happy. We did a set with me in boring-guy-mode, and then I went to change while she played around a little bit on Rock Band. We were both nervous about the whole 'first time seeing Trinity in girl mode' thing, but it was just fine. We shot another set of she-me, and then a couple just for fun. They turned out really awesome! Now I've got images to send in to the plastic surgeon, and can get that whole ball rolling. More progress!

After we finished up doing photos, we sat and visited for a while. We had sort of lost contact for a bit, or as much as two people who follow each other's blogs and twitter streams can, anyway. She's a lovely girl with a big heart, and I realize that I've missed her company a whole lot.

It's interesting how some people react to seeing me in femme-mode for the first time. Some just try to treat it as no big deal, which is nice from the standpoint of not making me feel like a circus attraction, but at the same time it almost feels a little dismissive. I spend a good amount of effort to look nice, and to have that apparently ignored, well, that's a little bit of a disappointment. If that makes me vain, well, I guess I can live with that. On the other end of the spectrum, there have been a couple people who actually stared open-mouthed for several seconds. Those times were more than a little creepy, as one might expect. L's response was somewhere in the middle - she definitely gave me a good look, but also gave a quick smile and a nice compliment.

Today was just generally awesome in all aspects. Progress for my transition, some nice personal time with a lovely friend, and just a nice smiley afternoon.

All sorts of progress

2009-06-03T20:59:00.004-05:00

Near the end of a pretty busy day today, I decided that it was finally time to make one of my important calls. I've had the phone number for the voice therapy clinic ready to dial for a couple weeks now, and simply haven't had the courage to dial it.

In my office, we have a common area upstairs, which is normally pretty deserted. I walked up, and sure enough, there was nobody to be seen. I sat for a few minutes with my phone in my shaking hands before pressing 'send'. I just answered the questions they had to ask, including the inevitable "why do you want to come see us?" I told them that I'm trans, and that I needed help getting my voice to sound more feminine. The truth always works, and deception serves neither of us.

So I have an appointment on the 29th for an evaluation. I'm not sure exactly what that entails, but I'll find out.

I've been trading emails with my photographer friend L, who has agreed to help shoot the photos which the plastic surgeon requests of his prospective patients. Saturday is the day! And it will be the first time I'll be in girl-mode with her. She has said she's a little anxious about it, but I'm pretty excited. Neither of us is strong with portraiture, so we'll probably have to experiment a little bit with the pictures, but I'm sure we'll get done what we need, and I'm also sure we'll have fun at the same time.

Another interesting thing that happened this morning... I think one of my coworkers might be trans. I was talking with a couple people from another support group, and after we'd been talking for quite a while, I noticed that one of them had the transgender symbol on his necklace. I didn't get a chance to ask him about it, but I definitely want to, at the very least, tell him that I like his necklace.

(Not) Getting it done

2009-06-01T19:37:00.006-05:00

As exciting as the last few weeks have been for me, and as much as has happened, I think I have run out of steam. Or maybe it's simply that I have important things on my notional to-do list, and I'm not having a whole lot of luck in actually doing them.

I had a chance to talk to another person at work this past Sunday, but it just didn't feel right, so I didn't say anything. With this particular coworker, it may not even be important, because s/he may not even be at the company for much longer. Even so, I always beat myself up whenever I have a chance and a perceived need to come out to someone, and don't. There are a couple other people at work who I'd like to talk to, but I'm not sure how I'll get things arranged.

The other two phone calls I need to make, are still yet unmade. For one of the people I need to contact, I need some photos of myself, and with the impracticality of getting my friend's help, that task has now fallen to me. Portraiture, particularly self-portraiture, is certainly not one of my strong suits. And the other, well, I sent an email on Friday, but I have a strong suspicion that the email address that I found on the website never actually reaches anybody. So I have to call. And that's putting myself so far out there... I'm having trouble.

And then my best friends will be away for a little over a week, starting this Friday. I'm not sure if they quite realize how important they are to me, and how terribly I will miss them.

I guess I should try to focus on the positive, rather than wallow in self-criticism. I'm in the process of making a dress to wear at the wedding of a couple of my Second Life friends. So far, I've gotten partway through making a test version, both for testing of the pattern, and for seeing how things fit. With another few hours of work, I can be mostly done with the test, and begin doing fit-checking and making plans for the real version. It took me a while to get motivated, but now that I'm working on it, I'm able to find some joy in simply creating something new.

One down, two to go

2009-05-27T23:17:00.003-05:00

I managed to make one of the phone calls I needed to make this afternoon. I decided to try the easiest one first, and it worked out fine, just as I knew it would.

I was running terribly late this morning, so I drove to work today, rather than taking the bus as I usually do. On the drive home, I would have at least an uninterrupted half-hour, so I decided early in the day that I would use the time constructively for the call to the laser clinic. Once I left the office and got on the road, it took me until about halfway home before I summoned the courage to press all the buttons to make the call. Once the receptionist answered, I just told her what I needed to tell her, and what I wanted to have done, and she was the kind and funny person I have always known her to be.

All my stress and worry was for nothing, just as I knew it was. It was simply a question of getting my heart to listen to my head. Whether or not it actually did, or whether my head just ended up overruling my heart, I'm not sure, but the outcome was positive, and I can continue to move forward.

So my next task is to call the voice therapist's office and make an appointment. I think I'll need to do that during normal business hours, so maybe I can do that either tomorrow or Friday.

My final task, contacting the plastic surgeon, is a bit more involved. I've got to take a series of photographs of myself and send them in with my contact form. I had asked J to help, but the hurdles in the way won't be easy to clear. It's probably time for "plan b", though I'm not sure what that plan is just yet.

A nice day

2009-05-25T23:24:00.005-05:00

I went to C & E's for the day. The order of the day was hanging out and eating, and celebrating the holiday in relaxed style, the ideal way to celebrate any holiday.

A couple of their daughters' daycare friends were also going to be there, along with their parents. Turns out they were the same people I met at Halloween. Neither of the fathers where there, but both the mothers were. I had very little interaction with either of them. We don't have a lot in common, so I think there's really very little to read into that.

It's been the first day since my laser treatment two Fridays ago that my skin has settled down enough to go out in femme-mode. I remarked to C before I left this evening that some days it seems to be something of a struggle to get motivated to change and get out the door, and other days I'm excited and looking forward to presenting my true self to those who care about me. On both kinds of days, though, I am almost always able to forget about who I am or how I'm presenting; I just am, and I am comfortable in my own skin. In the future, it can be like that all the time. I'll just be there, doing my own thing. That actually fills me with some hope; I'm able to see a bit of light at the end of this long, dark tunnel in which I'm travelling.

The other part of this evening was that, even though I didn't talk to the other women much, it was apparently no big deal to them who I am or what I do. This morning I had some horror stories going through my head about what would happen. Would they challenge me? Would I have to defend my existence? Parents of small children can be notoriously humorless and inflexible when it comes to what they allow their offspring to do and see, and out in the 'burbs of Houston, conservative ideals are king. I am most definitely not the kind of person that the typical conservative thinks about when they consider who they want their child to know. But these people seem to have already figured out that I'm no menace, and their children's seeing me won't harm them at all.

I got home this evening tired and happy. Things seem like they're really coming together.

The terror of being me

2009-05-22T10:15:00.004-05:00

Always, it seems to go back to fear.

I have three phone calls I need to make today, or at least sometime soon, and I am petrified of making any of the three.

The first is to a local voice therapist, who I found through a friend of a friend, and who apparently works with many trans people. Based on experience alone, I'm sure she knows what she's doing, and surely she won't judge me. My voice is something that causes me continual anxiety when I'm in femme mode, and working with a voice therapist would help me sound better, and help ease my emotional stress. Wouldn't it? My what-if gland (I'm convinced I have this superfluous organ inside me) is spewing out the garbage. "What if you just can't do it?" "What if she laughs at you?" "What if you totally stink and it takes years?" All completely irrational. Completely. What is wrong with me?

The second is to a plastic surgeon in Chicago who does facial feminization procedures. I'll be driving through Chicago in early July, so it might be nice to use that opportunity to schedule an in-person consultation. This is a big step, and I can somewhat understand why I'm so upset about it. The time window is at least part of it; the time when I'll be there is fast approaching, and I don't like having to work on deadlines. And also what-if (dammit) he's not available on any of the days when I'll be there? The more I delay, of course, the more chance there is of that happening.

The last one, and this one just makes me laugh at how stupid and irrational all this is, is to the laser clinic which did my facial laser work. I'd like to have my legs and bottom done. To do that, however, I will have to take my panties off in front of a stranger, which has never filled me with joy. Add to that the fact that I am still male-bodied, and I have long since thrown away all my boy underwear. On the other hand, I have been treated with nothing but respect and friendliness when I have called and when I have been there. And I'm sure that they treat lots of people with all kinds of reasons for having these procedures done.

I'm sitting here shaking my head at how irrational and foolish all this is. I have just outlined most of the fears I have about each call I need to make. And yet my hands are still quivering, and the tears are still rolling down my cheeks. I just don't understand.

End of an era?

2009-05-15T11:57:00.004-05:00

Or maybe just the end of my course of treatment. I just got home from my fourth and final laser hair treatment for that awful facial hair. Some interesting changes this time; we went over the trouble spots twice, with two different settings. It was kind of hardcore, but if it works, I guess I can't complain too much. For the second pass, my skin was still basically in shock from the first pass, so it wasn't really that bad. My trouble spots are exactly where I expected them to be: my upper lip (ouchie!), my chin right along my jawline, and my "soul patch". The rest of it took no time at all. Bzzt, bzzt, bzzt, bzzt, almost as fast as saying it out loud. The appointment took maybe half an hour, where the first one took a shade over an hour.

Now of course my heavy abuse of aloe gel has already begun, though with the little hair I had left, it doesn't seem like the recovery will take all that long. I certainly won't be able to look like a non-mutant enough to go femme today, so dinner at C & E's this evening will just have to be in dude-mode. We'll be rocking out with Rock Band anyway, so it'll be better not to get my cute girlie clothes all sweaty.

The clinic where I've been going is having a pretty awesome special right now, and it seems like they've lowered their prices in general, so I'm strongly considering getting my legs and bottom done. No girl should have a forest on her legs like I do. I mean, eww. I use an epilator on them now, and it works ok, but it's a time-consuming hassle, and I don't necessarily do the greatest job. And maybe the laser will help get rid of the little red dots I have all over my legs, which just plops hundreds of tiny little cherries all over the top of the sundae of my body-image anxiety.

Mission accomplished!

2009-05-14T21:21:00.004-05:00

I had my coming-out talk with my coworker today. We were originally going to talk yesterday, but the whole day just ended up weird, so we postponed until today.

It couldn't have gone better. I knew everything would go fine, and he reacted almost exactly like I expected. He had a couple of innocuous questions, which I was more than happy to answer. He offered a few suggestions regarding coming out to a couple of the other people in our group, which I didn't expect. But we ended up having a nice long conversation, and we left everything on a really good note. I have an ally at work now! Yaay me!

We did talk about the one thing that I did want to discuss with him, the managers of our group and their possible reaction to me. His guesses confirmed my own: I'm going to be fired instantly. There are a few things I can hope for, but I'm not really going to hold my breath for any of them.

On a personal note, the coming-out talk is starting to become a non-event for me. No, that's not quite the right wording... it's not nearly the stress-bomb event that it used to be. This morning, I had a few butterflies as I was getting to work, but they went away fairly quickly. Once we got out to walk to lunch (a good 8 or 9 blocks), it took me a few blocks to jump into what I had to say. So it's not completely stress-free, and I don't expect that it ever will be, but it's getting much easier.

Work: The Final Frontier

2009-05-12T22:47:00.005-05:00

Tomorrow should be an interesting day. I've set up a lunch with one of my coworkers to talk about some of the goings-on in my office, and mentioned that I have some "personal stuff" going on that could become much more challenging as a result. I'm planning on coming out to him, so he's probably in for quite a bit more than he has any idea right now. The cool part about him is that if you're on his good side (which I'm pretty sure I am), he's one of the coolest, most laid back, live-and-let-live people you're likely to meet. We're close to the same age, and we've had some similar professional experiences, and I think we "get" each other.

But it's getting a little frightening in how our managers are dealing with us. One of the most positive people on my team was written up today - put on a "performance improvement plan", in fact - for his supposed negativity. But it gets even better. Normally, those things last for a few months, and are done - if you've improved, then it's over and everything goes away. This one, he said, is to last for the remainder of his employment, no matter how long he's there. It sounds a lot like the old "double secret probation". A concerning thought.

So then there's me. I've already had my own performance plan, for similarly silly and irrelevant reasons, and made it through ok. The bomb that I'll be dropping on them some months from now, though, might set many more bad things in motion. I've corresponded with HR about their pathetic equal-employment policy, which is, in their words, all that's required by law. That's to say, nary a mention of any LGBT people. And now that my management has started acting in a reactionary and purely punitive way, I don't hold much hope for my continued employment once my particular bomb is dropped.

There are a couple things that I feel like I should do. First is to talk to the individual members of my team, and see what kind of support they're prepared to offer. My feeling is that most of the team will be supportive; a few might be a little weird, but I think things will generally be ok there. I don't know what that will do for me in terms of management reaction, but it will ease my mind, and make it more comfortable for me to simply do my day-to-day work. Second is to sit down in front of the HR director and tell her what's going on. Unfortunately, based on some communication some others on my team have had with our HR department, I have about as much hope for that as I do with my direct manager. And from one of the earlier correspondences I had with HR, they "would like to think" that the company won't discriminate against me. They'd like to think, would they? As the saying goes, put a wish in one hand and poo in the other, and see which fills up first.

So if you're getting the idea that I'm a bit angry about this, you'd be spot on. There's not a thing I'll be able to do about it, other than hope they're not a bunch of complete jerks. And based on past (and present) performance, I've got a better chance of hoping that gravity suddenly reverses itself.

Writer's block?

2009-05-10T14:49:00.004-05:00

I've been struggling to make a new post, both since it's been too long since my previous, and since I have something to say. I just can't seem to make the words go down in the text box. But as the old saying goes, if at first you don't succeed...

Lately, I've been wondering if it isn't time to make a bold move forward with my transition. I can't say that I'm entirely happy with the idea - quite the contrary, it scares me to death. But at the same time, it's something that I want to do and have wanted to do for a long time, and it has been in my plan (such as it is) from the very beginning. I am speaking about surgeries. And in particular, I am speaking about genital surgeries.

I don't make a huge secret that I am opposed to SRS for myself; it's too big a surgery, and I don't feel like I need to be so radically modified. My dysphoria seems to be mostly social, rather than physical.¹ The other side is that there are vast benefits to getting rid of some of those parts. I'll no longer need to take spironolactone, and the headaches and nausea and cost and endless trips to the restroom associated with it will be things of the past. It will also place me in a more natural hormonal state - a blank slate, if you will - so that the estradiol will be able to do its work without having to fight the effects of whatever residual testosterone is still floating around my body. It should reduce my libido, which does nothing but make me feel ashamed of myself. It will also help me feel a little more comfortable with my body shape.

So everything in the preceding paragraph says that it's the logical and correct step to take. Logic, though, is not soothing my shaking hands or flip-flopping tummy. Correctness is not easing the tears that are streaming down my face. I'm scared to death of what it means. There can be no going back. When I think about my transition in general terms, I don't want to go back, even from this awful middle point where I am now. But I could. I could if I had to. Cutting parts of me off, though, that's a threshold through which I may only pass once. No do-overs. No oopses. Done, over, period.

There are a million what-ifs that immediately spring to mind. There are not nearly as many "oh, it'll be so cool..." thoughts which are coming. They can't possibly overbalance all the what-ifs. I've said many times before that the what-if game only serves to delay, and never helps. But knowing that in my head, and feeling that in my heart are two completely different things, and I'm having a really tough time with it.

¹ Thank you Helen and Betty Boyd for that bit of phrasing. It fits me well too. :)

What's in a name?

2009-04-24T09:41:00.003-05:00

Not much has been going on lately, which will hopefully explain the lack of new posts. And if it's not a good enough explanation for you, laziness is probably as close to the truth as anything else. Maybe some of that coasting I mentioned several posts ago, too.

Lately, increasingly, I have noticed that when people call me by my given name, it's starting to sound weird to me. Like "who are they talking about?" weird.

I'm not really sure what to think about that.

I spend most of my time out of the house in boring-guy-mode still, and I've spent how many ever years before this answering to that name. So why now? Why, when I hear my chosen name maybe 4 or 6 hours a week, is that starting to become more normal for me than the one I've heard for so long? The whole thing just boggles my mind.

I certainly will not complain that I'm getting used to my new name. After all, it's one that I have picked, and one that I like a whole lot. That's what people will call me all the time in the future. From reading some blogs and accounts from other trans people, it took them a bit of time to get used to hearing their new name all the time. So maybe I'm getting that out of the way early?

Maybe it's got something to do with the fact that I've started feeling more amorphous and not-one-not-the-other lately. I feel like I'm stuck somewhere in the middle now; the changes are occurring, but not fast enough, while on the other hand I don't feel like I've made enough progress with coming out, and with my voice, and with this and that and the other. I have a whole list of things in my head that I haven't done, or haven't done well enough, and yet I want all this to be done with tomorrow.

While I'm on the name topic, I've been wondering if I should keep my last name, or go with something new. I don't have, say, a business, or a spouse, or anything that really ties me to that name. Of course the family part is there, but girls change their names all the time when they get married, and that's never a huge deal. And from a purely aesthetic standpoint, I don't think my last name sounds good with my other new names. I welcome those who know my last name to say my whole name out loud, and listen how it sounds. Doesn't really flow well, does it?

I've been thinking about something really short, a single syllable, with a bit of percussive sound to it - Quirk, Quinn, Scott, something along those lines. I used to know a girl with the last name of Quirk, and always thought it was a really cute name. It's distinctive, and it's fun, and it flows well with the rest of my name. And perhaps most important, I like it a whole lot. Trinity Annabelle Quirk. Trinity Quirk. And for the Unix nerd in me, tquirk is almost an entirely top-row username.

J once said that through this whole transition process, I get to become exactly who I want to be. Name, appearance (within limits), how I carry myself, everything. I can be exactly the person who makes me the happiest. It's both a sobering thought, and an amazingly inspirational one.

Talk with my mom

2009-04-12T21:22:00.004-05:00

I finally had a good opportunity to talk with my mom. We've both been avoiding the subject of my transness and my impending changes for a long time, and it was time for us, as the walrus says, to speak of many things.

I told her that I have been on my HRT since mid December. I told her that when I go over to my friends' houses for dinner, I present femme. She didn't quite understand, so I explained what that means. That scared her, and she said that she is NOT ready to see me in girl-mode. When she admitted that she still doesn't understand the basic idea of why this is and why I have to do what I'm doing, I tried some other ways to explain. Some may have gotten through, but I think she's still pretty mystified. I let her know that this mystifies me sometimes, too.

She told me that she's afraid for me, and afraid that she'll completely lose her son. I couldn't comfort her on that, because she will. We talked about the future, and what each of us expects as we move along. She also told me that my sister is furious with me, which rather surprised me. I knew she was upset, but I had no idea of the depth of her feelings. We also talked about some other family stuff that's going on. I related some of the ideas that I've discussed with my therapist. Some were true revelations to her, and some helped her to realize that it's not just her.

The most important thing that we talked about, I think, was that she wants to know what's going on with me, even if it upsets her. Her reasoning is that it will get her to think about it more, which should force her to confront the way she feels about it, rather than avoiding it as she has been doing. But she assured me that she's willing to try, even if the things I have to tell her upset her.

At one point, she said that she's dreading telling her friends about me. I told her about some of my coming-out experiences, and some of the reactions of my friends. I assured her that I understand all about that, and that it's a hard thing to do. I talked a little about how helpful my experiences with talking to other trans people were, and suggested that it might be helpful for her to talk with some other parents of LGBT people, to see some other perspectives. She was somewhat open to that idea. I did a little checking and the local PFLAG folks have meetings twice monthly, so I'll pass the info along to her.

We talked for about three hours. We spent as much time sitting in silence as we did talking; each of us was absorbed in her own thoughts. But I think it was very productive, and we each got a lot of things out into the open, which had remained unsaid for too long.

Physicality

2009-04-03T09:46:00.005-05:00

I was considering referencing a terrible 80s Olivia Newton-John song in the title, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. You don't need to thank me, but I won't stop you if you really want to. :)

I recently saw my ob/gyn, because I was a little concerned that he wasn't doing any testing - I'm a big proponent of doing tests and knowing, rather than just sort of guessing and winging it. So we talked about what a blood hormone level test might show at this point, and what it would cost, and it seemed like a lot of effort and money for some not-so-meaningful information. His reasoning makes plenty of sense, but I'm still a little concerned. I just have to remember that he's done this many, many more times than I have, and he knows what he's doing.

We did talk about my dosage, and ways to increase it, since simply doubling it was a little too much. I suggested maybe taking one and a half estradiol pills per day, for 3mg, and he said that would be a good thing to try. So far, very very good. I have half a guess that the doubling might not have been strictly too much, but rather too much too fast. It seems that wetware reacts in weird ways sometimes, so I guess a try-and-see approach might be the best way to go.

My physical changes are continuing. My breasts are growing, slowly. They've basically stopped being completely annoying - itching, ouching, tingling, and being thoroughly distracting - and just settled into being ouchy when I press up against them or brush across them. Fair enough. I am learning what my body needs, and as a result, I'm trying to be more careful with myself. Going through sort-of puberty again at my age, well, us not-so-youngsters aren't quite built for that any more.

My darn upper lip is once again leaping to my attention. A couple of days ago, I noticed the light gray tinge that signalled the return of my facial hair, and now it's coming in. Back to shaving every day. I'm hoping that it will be even more reduced from before the most recent laser treatment. Since I have my trip in July, and the regrowth seems to come right at two months after the treatment, I'm going to see if I can hang on until mid-May for my next lasering. Once that's done, it'll be time to find an electrologist. I do have a lot more blonde hairs than I realized, which ignore the laser, and the dark stuff on my upper lip is proving very resilient to the laser, so it's probably time to up the ante.

Emotionally, I feel like I'm getting to a point where any hiding is really annoying, and I just want to be all the way out. Like out out. But based on my physical state, I don't think I'm ready to do it. I can tell, but I don't feel comfortable enough that I can show everyone yet.

Things are looking up!

2009-03-30T19:20:00.005-05:00

I was all primed to make a big complaint post about something that happened yesterday at the track, involving a completely insensitive and unaccepting jerk, but this morning I realized that it just doesn't matter. Nothing actually happened, so there is no reason for me to actually complain. Besides, nobody wants to read a bunch of whining from me, and I'm just tired of being negative.

"The track", to which I referred above, was the Houston Raceway Park, and this past weekend was the annual NHRA national event there. I have been going for the past several years, usually with C; this year E and their oldest daughter came as well. I was expecting it to be another hot-sauce festival, but it was about a million times better. I've made so much progress since then, both emotionally and physically, that this time I think it was more of a feeling of anticipation than any kind of negative feelings I had back then. Seven months can be a long time.

Lately, I've been kind of going back to where I started this journey. L and I had a wonderful conversation over a few slices of pizza this past weekend, and she got me thinking about everything that's happened. It's been a little over a year since I started the whole coming-out process. One year to go from wondering if I shouldn't kill myself, to a state of excitement and anticipation of things to come. About ten months since I first walked out the door in girl-mode; now I actually get a bit down if I don't get the chance at least once a week. Seven and a half months since I began my first physical changes - hair removal on my face. Three and a half months since I started hormone therapy, which has improved my mood to an unbelievable degree, and started to alter my body.

These thoughts of the past have woken me up to possibilities in the future. I'm going to a wedding in Wisconsin this July, and I intend to do the whole car trip in girl-mode. While there, I'll be meeting a bunch of people in person, whom I've met only on Second Life. On this same trip, I'm also going to try to schedule a consult with a plastic surgeon in Chicago who does FFS procedures. There will also be a job change in the (hopefully) near future, and I have decided that prospective employers will know exactly who they'll be hiring. I expect that I will be denied some opportunities by revealing my transness, but if an employer is willing to deny me at this early stage, it's equally likely that they would seek to get rid of me when I get to the full-time stage later. I'm saving everyone from extra work. But an employer who is willing to accept me now, before the change, knowing what is coming... That's a Martha Stewart-style Good Thing.

I'm finding it interesting how people react when faced with the information that this person standing in front of them, who has a name and a life and a mom, is transgendered. Surprise and confusion are very typical; let's face it, my people and I are rather rare. But every single person has tried to find a way that they could accept it, or at least a way they could have it make sense to them. Every one. Just thinking about the success I've had, and the success I anticipate in the future, I can't help but smile and giggle a little bit. Cynical old me becomes a believer in the inherent goodness of people? Stranger things have happened.

Is it working?

2009-03-25T22:37:00.004-05:00

We always hear about how getting rid of the poison testosterone and going on estrogen will calm our moods and make us more gentle and happy. I'm thinking that either that's a big load of bunk, or something isn't working for me.

I'm on call at work. For those non-IT people out there, that means that if there's a problem in the middle of the night, and the guys who are in the office can't fix it, they call me. Anyone who has to go on call can tell you: being on call pretty well stinks. It doesn't make me happy, regardless of how much I am actually called. I don't do well with interrupted sleep schedules, and I certainly don't do well with people who seem wilfully ignorant or purposefully difficult, both of which my company seems to have in long supply.

I got a call tonight from the guy in the office who seems to lack any capacity to actually learn anything, about a ticket from the most purposefully difficult customer we have. As if that wasn't bad enough, my wifi signal kept having troubles, and my VPN connection kept dropping, and all sorts of other stupid technical hurdles kept leaping into my path. I left C & E's house, where I was attempting (and critically failing) to enjoy the company and the evening. On the drive home, I had to keep telling myself to keep the throttle off the floor. I kept wondering why I was having thoughts of utterly destroying my unhelpful laptop, literally breaking it in half, and other thoughts of reading the customer the absolute riot act, followed by some Inquisition-style retribution.

Seems a little extreme, doesn't it? It certainly did to me; I haven't felt rage like that in years. But it made me think: isn't all this hormone therapy supposed to moderate that a little? Calm me down?

I almost burst into tears a couple times during the drive home. Once I got home and took another look at the customer's snark, verified that he was in fact lying, and plonked down a "you're wrong and here's why" response to the ticket, my rage evaporated pretty quickly. I sent a few tweets to my friends, and felt a whole lot better. But it was just the intensity of the whole thing that rather shocked me. I can only shake my head and wonder. I would really like some hugs right now too, but that will have to wait until tomorrow evening.

Finally!

2009-03-15T01:29:00.005-05:00

I've been trying to gather the courage to come out to my gaming group for a few months now, but with the holidays, and since the new year, we've gotten together to play only two or three times. During those few times, I just couldn't do it. Once we get involved in a game, it's just not the time.

Tonight, we were supposed to play, but it ended up just being me and J. I went over, and as we were getting ready to go see a game store we'd just discovered, I said "before we go, I have something I need to talk to you about."

It went way better than I expected. I thought he might be confused and shocked, but he was really supportive. When I told him that I am transgendered, he wasn't quite sure what the word meant. Once I explained, and talked a little about what is going on with me now, he took it right in stride. He talked a little about a coming-out experience he had with a lesbian former roommate, and I related a couple of my own experiences. A couple times during the evening, he seemed unsure of what he should say regarding who I will become, and I hope I was as supportive of him in those times as he was in the initial conversation.

I'm sure he's still processing everything. That's a lot to dump on someone all at once, and especially someone who's not used to thinking about such things. I'm ready to help him understand, because I want to support him just as he is supporting me.

Back and forth

2009-03-13T23:43:00.004-05:00

Today was a bit of a weird day for me. I'm off work on Fridays, so some friends came over to help me put the engine back into my race car. They say it's because they want me to be happy about my car again, and I say it's so I can sell the thing. But whatever. The foremost question in my mind this morning was "how I should present today?"

C came over first. Since we had hit a roadblock in our work, and were having K pick something up at the parts store on his way over so we could get past the block, we went up to the kitchen and I started making a pizza crust for lunch. He came out with "so I guess you're just in boring-guy mode today?" I was feeling rather amorphous, and wasn't sure, but he sort of clarified things for me a little bit. Depending on the top I'm wearing, my booblets range between not-really-there, and decently visible. My clothes today went to the decently-visible end, which C also commented on. So I'm in something of a middle ground, not feeling one or the other, not looking one or the other, really.

So anyway, I just was today. Just me. Whatever that may be right now.

My therapist has commented that I'm "coasting". I'm not making any emotional progress. I'm not taking steps to present myself in my preferred role more often, or to many new people. I'm not making any progress to reducing my anxiety. And she's absolutely right. Today would have been a great day to make an effort to present female, and still do my car work with my friends, but I didn't make that effort. But I'm not going to beat myself up over it; next time there is an opportunity like this, I need to take advantage of it. It will help me, and it will help everyone else too.

Later in the afternoon, once we got the engine in and bolted up, C and K left to go back to C's house, and I hurried to make myself beautiful, to go over and make dinner for everyone. All the food was good, and I think everybody had a good time tonight. I felt really good, which was a good contrast to a day of feeling weird. I'm totally worn out, but I got a lot done today. I always feel better when I accomplish something, and today I accomplished several somethings. I have plenty more somethings which need doing, but they can wait for tomorrow.