Not much to say…
Aside from HAPPY NEW YEAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I've not got a lot to say really. I'm off the anti depressants, headaches and dizzyness have gone now and generally I feel more me than I have in a long time.
Christmas was ok, I just miss Miya so much, especially over the holidays. We are working on things and it's getting better. I did get to spend some time with my daughter, so that rocks :)
The housing situation isn't really going anywhere as everywhere is closed for xmas, hopefully things will move pretty quickly now we are in the new year. I need to be somewhere by the 18th of Jan at the very very latest or im under a bench someplace.
Lilly will be over soon and I'm so looking forward to seeing her, just hoping we will have somewhere to stay!
Finally, a couple of pics I took today in SL, been working on my house a lot and I think the new jail cell kicks ass.
Where did all the jobs go?
I've been looking for work since I came back to the UK in August, signed up with several agencies, I must have sent my CV out hundreds of times by now and nothing.
On my CV my gender is female (of course) and have a small paragraph explaining that I am trans, no details, just as short statement of fact. I don't know if this is a bad thing or not, I just don't want to talk to a potential employer and have my gender become the topic of discussion or the only reason I am remembered.
Maybe I should leave it out, it shouldn't be an issue, but it always will be. The only thing I do know is that I'm still unemployed.
Getting By
Not blogged in a while, partly because I have little to write and partly becasue I'm generally lacking in motivation.
I made a recent return trip to see Ajen which ended being chased down the street by her dad, drunk, in nothing but his underpants. Seems my prescence wasn't entirly welcome. Someone wrapped up in his own little miserable bubble sought through lies to misrepresent me and my intentions.
As those of you who follow my twitter scribblings (in the margin of my blog) will know, I've had quite a rough time since returning. Mydepression has deepened as have feelings of anxiety. Reawoken by being back in the village where I was so often beaten just for being me.
Cumilated in a a recent trip to see the GP to get an updated prescription and to find out about the progress of getting my medical records from Crewe (which seem to have vanished into the either). I can only describe the anxiety attack I suffered over leaving my parents house as terrifing, irrational, groundless fear. It's been years since I felt so scared to venture out from the house and go to the village centre. (The last time was during the closing years of my secondary education and I was being attacked and bullied at least once a week, leaving the same house, in the same village).
In the end it took me several frought hours to get ready to leave the house and walk the 5 minutes down the road. By the time I got to the doctors office I was shaking, sweating and visably in a mess.
I am now on the highest dose of antidepressants since my world fell apart around me when I was woken to the need to change my life over two years ago. I am being refered on, to what, who knows...
I have been a little withdrawn into myself recently and I am trying to get out of my shell, thank you everyone for your patience. I will try to blog more as things happen.
Back in England :(
After a long and tortuous trip I'm now back in England in one piece ... well, physically anyway.
I've left heart and my home in Olympia. I miss Miya and Sarah so much, I'm trying to put a strong face on things but inside I'm screaming. I've not been able to get more than a few hours sleep at any time, if I don't cry myself to sleep I wake racked with grief. I keep expecting to see them just walk in or when I look up from my laptop, and when I don't it breaks my heart.
I don't know how long I have to live in exile, I don't know when I will see them again and its killing me.
Following my encounter with Garcia when I first landed in the US, I was worried he had put stuff in my file that would make future trips much harder than they should be. On the way back my fears were realised. My checked luggage was searched at every airport in the US I passed through, seems the TSA have me on their lists. I'm terrified I will try to go back to the US and find I've been red flagged, get taken for an interview only to be turned away and flown home. All because I'm trans and Garcia doesn't like trans.
Being back in the village I grew up isn't comfortable for me. Went out to the pub for a meal to celebrate my Dad's birthday,feeling shattered and jet lagged I decided to walk home before everyone else. Big mistake. Walking the familiar streets home I felt more afraid for my own safety than I have in many years, more terrified than I have ever been at any time during my transition.
When I was a teenager I was beaten frequently for having long hair and looking girly, several times it happened as little as 50 metres from my front door. I remember being so scared that I wouldn't leave the house on foot, and walking home has brought all those memories flooding back.
I know most of the people responsible will have moved on years ago, I know I shouldn't be as afraid as I am, but I don't feel safe here out alone. Don't think I ever will.
Diary of my Dreams
I've been toying with the idea of writing my dreams down for years, just another one of those things that come bedtime I've forgotten about, no biggie, I don't remember my dreams anyway, never have.
Now my dreams stick with me for days and I can't shake them. Fears, uncertainty and memories mingle exposing the fragility of things taken for granted. Hopes and desires papering the cracks fall away like tissue paper leaving me hollow. More often than not I wake wet with tears and if I don't, the memories dragged back into focus reach into my heart and pull with such force that I can't stop.
The following are just summaries, all I can bare to commit into writing.
The first dream I've left the US and I'm unable to go back, something happens to miya in my absence and I can't comeback to say goodbye. When I finally do many months later I visit her parents home and see her ashes in a tin on the side. Sarah isn't here either, I need her and don't know where she is. My heart is broken, ripped from my body smashed into a despair so intense that I take miya upstairs, open the tin and cut my wrists over her cremated remains. I give her my life in the hope she will live again and we will be together forever.
In the second I'm out shopping with Zoe (my daughter, 7), we're inside a sprawling makeshift building with many rooms and staircases in every direction each with people selling everything you can imagine, things layed out on tables and colorful blankets. It feels like a carboot sale or market. Zoe is excited and difficult to control, I have to keep chasing her from place to place, telling her not to touch, telling her there are things she can't have or doesn't have the money for. My exwife is here but she doesn't look well, here face is tired and looks thin. She needs to find something but I'm distracted with Zoe and can't help her.
I wake, it's very early and I lay in bed crying and trying to clear my head. Sarah and miya are here with me asleep. I know I should wake them but I wont. The sounds of them sleeping are soothing and bring a smile to my face, Let them sleep, just for a little longer.
I'm ok, just dreams, I still don't remember them most days, I think that's for the best.
Time For a Change
Following on from news of my redundancy a few days ago, I got home from work feeling more than a little depressed. I had emailed the news home as soon as I knew it and spent the rest of the day worrying about the short term future, how to survive on what I would have as an income is something that filled me with dread. It's been tight at the best of times balancing my income, credit card debts, rent, taxes, bills and food.
We (myself, miya and Sarah) had always planned to go to the US in mid to late June (at the end of their allowed tourist stay in the UK). The plan was to have all the required paper work in place so that I could change my status in the US and remain there to stay. So it was with some surprise that I was greeted with smiles and optomism when I arrived home after work. Upon hearing of my redundancy they had been busy working out a solution.
We're leaving for the US at the end of April, I will stay there for 3 months on the visa waiver program (basically tourist, with no option to change status on that trip). By the end of the 3 months we hope to be settled somewhere in Washington (state, not capitol) and I will return to the UK in time for my daughters birthday. During that time we hope to have everything sorted out so that on my return to the US at the end of August I can enter the country on a visa that will allow me to stay.
I've given notice on my rented property and am working to offload everything I can't take with me, which is pretty much everything!
In future I will try harder to work past my problems, try harder to treat adversity as a challenge and try harder not to slip into self defeating depression. Its not easy, especially while trying to get my mind back together after two years on anti-depressants, but I'm getting there with the help of my friends and new family.
Thank you all so much for showing me that even on the worst days there is always hope.
Kelise Hailey, I Miss You.
Tonight in SL is the one year memorial service for Kelise Hailey, she was a young transsexual woman who's struggle became to much for her to bare. She committed suicide. She was my friend.
I owe my own life to Kelise. When she left us I was in a very dark place, torn between this world and something else. Losing her fixed my resolve to stay for good. No matter how low and depressed I feel, no matter what happens in my life. I made her a silent promise and I will keep it. I keep a candle lit for her in SL to remind me that no matter what happens, no matter how dark the days might seem for me or anyone else. You're never truly alone.
When I'm quiet and alone my thoughts often drift to her, a year on and I still can't hold back the tears. I miss you Kelise.
Shall I get out and push?
Had my usual appointment with my GP this morning. As part of local jiggery pokery the surgery has moved into a brand new custom building, all very pretty looking. Why they had to call it a "Health and Wellbeing Centre" is a bit beyond me, but who cares. Once thing thats not changed is the inability to make an appointment sooner than exactly a week in advance or the time spent sweltering in the waiting room.
I've had a couple of spots of blood come from my left nipple, little worrying when all you can find on the internet about that is cancer. No lumps or bumps that either of us could find but he's referred me to a breast clinic anyway. Got a referral to the ear, nose and throat people for my snoring and sleep apnea. So far so good.
He is dropping my dose of anti-depressants (Citalopram) from 40mg to 20mg as I'm feeling generally better. It's been almost 2 years that I've been on them and I don't want to be on them any longer. Halving the dose seems a bit sharp to me, but we will see, I have lots of support.
Not so great news on the gender front, due to some technical screw up, the letter he dictated asking for an appointment with a gender specialist at charring cross hospital was eaten by his computer. He had no idea it hadn't been sent. So thats another couple of months waiting for precisely nothing. It's very disheartening especially with the 2 year anniversary of having 'the talk' and coming out to my doctor fast approaching.
*sigh*
Oh, and there is nothing wrong with my bottom!
2008 Blues :’(
I have no energy. I can't concentrate. I'm on the verge of tears all the time, one wrong word and I'm going to burst. I'm screaming on the inside and no-one can hear me.
I'm physically disgusting, trapped in a body thats not mine and making no progress with the NHS to get anything done to correct it. I'm dependant on the anti-depressants they do provide and buying my own HRT over the internet. It's a few months away from 2 years since I initially spoke to my GP about my gender, well over a year since I went properly full time (off my own bat), and I'm no closer than I was when I started (unless you measure progress in the amount of anti-depressants you're being prescribed). I feel like a freak.
I'm stuck in a job I have no feeling for anymore, taken 2 pay cuts since I came out and the boss refuses to use female pronouns. Just because its better than nothing. At least he stopped pulling me aside for wearing a skirt and makeup every other day and telling me my appearance is making staff members (him) physically sick. What hope do I have of getting something better.
I've not seen my daughter since xmas eve and I'm afraid I'm going to loose her. I want to have her this weekend but I've got a really bad cold and possible chest infection. There is no way I will risk her getting it from me.
I've loved and lost someone because she couldn't live with me being poly. I'm so sorry I hurt you, I never wanted to, never intended to. I can't think of you and not well up. I still love you and always will. Please forgive me.
My whole life is shit and I'm powerless to do anything about it. Thoughts of suicide run through my head everyday. I WONT BOW TO THEM. NOT NOW. NOT EVER. I'm haunted by the memory of a friend who lost her battle and died at the start of 2007. I wont go the same way. I can't. For Her.
Things can only get better. I have hope.
I've not had a cigarette in ages and don't need one.
My babies are coming to live with me from the US real soon. I miss them so much and its only been 2 days. I love you both more than I can possibly express.
I will be ok. Just a rough spot.
Dreaming of SRS
I found out pretty early in my teenage years there was such a thing as a 'sex change' operation, and while I wished it could happen to me, I felt isolated and alone and couldn't approach anyone. I knew my few friends and family would react badly and feared rejection, I put a lid on it, buried it deep, and tried to get on with my life in the role I had been born into.
Years later it would crop up and I would find myself in tears, reading stories in the tabloid press and wishing, or just stumbling across information on the internet . I would just shut it all out, that road lead to the top of my parents stairs, gazing down the steep flight and wishing I had the courage to end it. So I would bury it deep again and keep myself busy.
The internet did a little to break my shell, I was able to explore the draw I felt to BDSM through reading erotic fiction, pictures were ok, but written words carried so much more. I felt an empathy with the submissives depicted in the scenes (typically female) and wished I could be them. But often, the fantasy and sexual release through masturbation would all to quickly fade leaving me with an empty feeling. Something wasn't right, and it was me.
Masturbation was the lesser of two evils, the alternate being a sexual frustration strong enough to drive all other thoughts from my mind and make it impossible to concentrate on anything. Somedays the need for release was so strong it felt like I was going out of my mind. I would masturbate as often as 6 times a day and by the end orgasm was accompanied by intense internal cramping. My body was ablaze with testosterone, and I felt powerless to do anything, days would pass feeling like my head was going to explode and I needed to scream.
I had a string of girlfriends before settled down with my partner for 11 years and having a wonderful daughter together. When she was born I wished it had been me that had given birth, what should have been the happiest day of my life was clouded by feelings of jealousy towards my partner.
Genital Sex (normal intercourse) has always been a mixed bag. To be very honest I'm not very good at it, always tended to climax far too quickly, or if by random chance I didn't then I'd either get tired very quickly or would loose my erection.
Actual ejaculation wasn't something I enjoyed, was always followed by an apology and left a bitter emotional aftertaste. I just felt bad for letting it happen (as if there was something I could do to stop it!) and this feeling only increased as the years went by.
For me, sex has always been about closeness, passion and giving. A deep loving relationship with lots of cuddles, kisses and sexy play is vastly more important to me than rubbing bits.
And that's the motivation for this post. Up until a couple of days ago, I hadn't had genital sex for 18 months, partly by circumstance and partly by choice. I don’t really know what happened or why - (maybe the last tiny bit of the old me left in my body was not willing to let go without a fight?) It was unexpected, unnecessary and totally unexplainable (for both of us) and We wont be doing it again (until I’m post-op).
What came after was guilt, disgust, regret, a feeling of being dirty. It was like the man I pretended to be for all those years had come back and taken over. It was horrible, I felt like a fake as I walked to town the next morning, like everyone was staring and seeing the shell I used to hide behind, eyes filled with contempt seemed to meet mine over and over. How I made it to work without breaking down is beyond me.
In a way it confirms to me that I'm on the right path and the SRS (Sexual Reassignment Surgery) is the right decision for me. Especially as I've started to discover I can reach orgasm with without, its weak now, but getting stronger :)