Tuesday, July 30, 2019

The Choice

It's 1:30 AM, on a Tuesday. I need to be up for work later, but here I am, potentially crafting a coherent sentence or two. You be the judge.

I got home an hour ago from a side job I occasionally do; made a few extra bucks. Ole Shann needs a chunk of that change before the naughty people who send the bills get the rest. We shall see. At this point, if you're placing a bet, put your money on it turning into a cheeseburger more than a new pair of shoes.

Choosing food over clothes is an issue. It's a choice I make, and often a problem. I did buy two tops last week, so that was good. Bought pizza before that, but whatever. New clothes!

Onto the choice I intended to talk about in this post. It's inspired something I saw on Twitter from another trans girl I follow, which in turn reminded me of a conversation my wife and I had again the other night.

We were discussing how we are pretty much over except for the kids, etc. In the midst of this, and the blame being all in me, as usual, I mentioned as I have in the past that if I could choose to not be trans, I would. It's true. It's pretty sad to think that the much better person Shannyn is than that "other guy" might not exist, but there's a lot to be said for safety and an easier life.

I can't choose safety and an easier life anymore. Tried it, didn't work. My wife believes that, and maybe this is progress?, that maybe I can't choose whether I'm trans, but I can choose whether to act on it or not. She believes that for the good of the family, and in following God, I should bury my desires and suffer if necessary.

Sorry. I believe in God, and I refuse to believe He would want me to suffer. I might be 1000% wrong, but I just can't see it. If I feel better, being the real me, I can help others, which I yearn to do. And MY belief is that helping my fellow humans is more important than my appearance. I can't help anyone while stuck in dysphoria hell.

And there you have it....the choice is made. I choose to post this rambling nonsense at 1:53 AM on a Tuesday when I need to be up later (sooner, now).

Friday, July 26, 2019

Proud of this Kid, Part 2

I think I need to make this a running series...not sure this kid would see herself as a kid, but it's my blog and I'll say what I please!

Congrats to my sister-in-crime, Tanya, on a VERY big Day...

Read about it here...damn proud!

https://improvingtanya.blogspot.com/2019/07/home-alone-day-3-get-it-together.html

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

How old are you, anyway?

"How old would you be, if you didn't know how old you are?" - Satchel Paige

I'm 12, and a girl. Thanks for asking, Satch!


Man Box - A Different Perspective

You know, I try to learn. I like to read about others, and get better at this humanity stuff. I'm not sure how well I'm doing, but I try.

Yesterday, I came across this article about the music of Dorian Electra. First of all, pretty cool name. Second, my brain has difficulty with the pronouns of gender-fluid folks. Not that I don't understand it, just that for 44 years, the words "they" and "them" implied multiple humans. I'm working on that. Because, if I like being referred to as "she", someone who doesn't identify as "she" or "he" is just as important and shouldn't be pigeon-holed just because we don't have a new pronoun for such situations.

http://t-central.blogspot.com/2019/07/dorian-electra-im-not-woman-dressing-as.html

That's the article. In it, I discovered something that caught my attention. Dorian mentions gender and labels. They opened my eyes to the idea that labels aren't necessarily bad things, and that my idea of boxes, as mentioned in this blog a while back (READ HERE), can be viewed as something to aspire to. I'm sure there are exceptions, as there always are, but it seems we all desire to fit certain boxes.

I was completely approaching looking at my situation from the perspective of ESCAPING the Man Box. But Dorian likes the Man Box. At least some of the time. I don't know if they are actively trying to escape a different box (or boxes), as I am, but in reading this article, I realized that I am desiring a new box to fit in: The Woman Box.

There are always two sides to every story. Don't box yourself in. Unless, of course, that's your goal.


Monday, July 22, 2019

Curveball

The past few days, I've had a lot rattling around in my head. More even than usual. I meant to write on the weekend, but I didn't. Partly because I had done a bunch of work in my garage, trying to deal with clutter out there, and partly because I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to write.

I'm still not sure, but here goes. I apologize in advance if this one turns out to be more of an attempt at self-therapy, than helping others. I always want to have something that maybe can be taken as helpful by somebody other than me.

I have been humming right along lately, not really getting to appear feminine, but being generally content and able to ride things out. The gender dysphoria, calmed greatly by taking the hormones (both Estradiol and Spironolactone) has been not so much an issue. At least from an identity standpoint. I know who I am, and I know what I'm not. Right now, for the most part, I can work within that framework.

I haven't had a day where I was able to look "really feminine" since February. There was one day where I could have, but I got frustrated with it all and aborted. It's so hard to go from zero-to-fully-dressed-with-makeup-and-accessories when you rarely get a chance to try. At my house, there's always someone home, and to keep things from being really terrible, I incorporate my femininity subtly. Not rocking the boat. I've talked about this before.

With that said, a couple things happened last week that I found curious. About how I acted and reacted. One has happened before, and the other is new.

The first is that, I suddenly began experiencing frustration at the inability to present myself totally as I want to. The time factor, the lack-of-practise factor, and the lack of money for my "hobby" add up to the occasional bit of feeling like I'm in a cage or prison. And not in any kind of BDSM "good" way, either.

Th other thing that's new, and the reason I'm titling this post "Curveball" is the result of a medical issue. I'm glad I know about it, but still, my mind has wandered a bit, and very likely, I'm over-reacting totally. I need more info before I should worry about anything. However, I'm shaken a bit, I just can't help it, no matter how even keel I've been lately. I felt like I've been thrown a curveball, and I'm unsure I can hit it. Again, probably over-reacting.

To begin with, I'm diabetic, Type 2. Known it for years, and while it's controlled, it's not controlled well. I have issues eating the right foods and avoiding things like soda. Perhaps related, perhaps not, I went to see the doctor (who I see for my HRT) a couple weeks ago. This was because I'd been feeling a bit tired and weak recently. They drew labs, a few things were off, and I went back last week to have labs taken again, in case, as the doctor said, any of it was a fluke.

Last Friday, I got the results in a call from the doctor. It was pretty much the same from the first set of labs. A1C high (no surprise), cholesterol off a bit (surprising in that it was under control for years), and my liver function off a bit as well (very surprising, this is the new thing I mentioned earlier). The doctor recommended I cut my Spiro in half for a while, and see a specialist for the liver function. It might be just the diabetes, and then again, it might not.

Cutting the Spiro: that's the thing that has shaken me. It's possibly kinda dumb to think of this as the big deal, as opposed to the other items that need to be handled, but cutting that Spiro is messing with my identity. By taking one pill every other day instead of every day, I'm basically going from my 100 mg dose back to the original of 50. And I don't like that. I just don't. What if I can't keep being a girl, at least on the inside? Who am I then?

Why would me decreasing the T-blocker, when my T is naturally very low, upset me? Wouldn't it be worse if I had to cut the Estrogen? And maybe this is not forever. I need more info. I need to see the specialist. I'm proud that I'm being smart and doing the HRT under medical supervision. It scares me more than ever to think other trans girls are doing HRT on their own. You shouldn't do that. If you read this and you aren't seeing a doctor periodically, try to see one. It could save you a lot of grief later.

Back to my silliness. I'm not sure, but, since my femininity is wrapped around the low-level HRT I've been on, maybe that's why I'm upset that something could jeopardize that. I'm not getting to go out and express myself like others can. But I have those meds in my body. They make me feel so much better. I don't want that taken away from me.

As for the frustration with not getting to present myself the way I want to, most days I can handle that. Some days it just eats at me. My progress in that regard is just stalled. The progress I made last fall is now creeping up on a year ago. I need some me time. I'm not sure where or when I can get it.

I was hoping that after writing all this, I'd feel better, and I might've found the positive in these recent feelings and events. It so often does. I will continue to think and process, and I'm sure I'll come around. I know there have been positive developments lately as well. I need to write about those, too.

I'll close by saying, it'd be great to hear from any of you that reads this. Any encouragement would be great to hear. Or reach out if you need someone to talk to. Helping others is such a great therapy in itself. I'm here for you, too. Thanks for reading.

Saturday, July 13, 2019

Soul Number

I feel good. However, unlike James Brown, I did not know that I would. I hoped I would, but that's been a far from certain status for me. Right now, today, I'm ALL ABOUT THIS:

Friday, July 5, 2019

Yellow Skirt: Postscript

Hey, it's me again. Just a quick one, as follow-up to my previous post, "Yellow Skirt". I suggest reading that one in order for this to make the most sense.

Wednesday, July 3, 2019

Incredible Kid

This story makes me proud. It hits so close to home, I could've literally thrown the pitch Sefin has knocked out of the park. A 99% average in Grade 12? Incredible. While living in society as a trans person? Double wow.

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Walk Of Life

Let's see. I'm sitting here at the edge of a pool, letting my legs get wet. Not a smart idea to write a log underwater, I suppose. So I'll sit on the sideline. Seems appropriate, in a way.

Today marks the start of the second half of the last year of the decade of the "teens". I think some people count the last year of the decade as the one ending in zero, like 2020. But I'm not buying that 20 is part of the teens. 2010 I can see as being a teen. Anyway, I digress. This post might ramble a bit.

In fact it has rambled right into the next day, where I'm resuming...something.

Before being at the pool, I had gotten back to my walking in the early morning, before the humidity got unbearable and I got burned to a crisp. Georgia heat'll do that to a pale face like me. I walked just after 7 AM until about 8:30 or so. I hadn't walked in a week, because for whatever reason, I was very sore and feeling a bit rundown. I missed my walking goal for June, and wanted to get going again in July to make up for it.

Regarding the soreness...a couple weeks ago, I had driven for like 18 hours one day to make some extra money, and the week following that I couldn't quite get back on track, but I did walk. Then, the next weekend, I had moved a lot of furniture. I have never been a very physically strong person, but that really did me in. It shouldn't have, but it did.

I wound up going to the doctor to see what was up, and while by the time I had my appointment, I was feeling better, the PA did mention that maybe the hormones were dehydrating me, and that I should drink more water. I guess that's the message here. Hormones might dehydrate you, should you begin taking them. Then again, maybe they made me weaker, and the aforementioned humidity did it's regular job on a fairly weak person to begin with.

Back to the walking. I have a couple pairs of ladies tight capri pants used to exercise. One pair is black and white, the other black and grey (I'm still staying incognito with the colors, sadly). Anyway, I wore a pair, because I just wanted to. I knew there would be people walking in the park, but I guess I didn't care if they saw me and thought it was weird.

I did my regular two laps around the place, and passed quite a few people multiple times. Most were friendly and said hello, as they normally do. Though I'm shy and don't say much, I always try to make eye contact and not be rude. Most people are friendly enough to acknowledge your existence in a park. And they did. There were a few that didn't, including a couple middle-aged ladies that kinda had a negative look on their faces.

I wondered if they were offended by my pants, but I didn't care too much. They say cis women judge trans people the most. Anyway, no matter. I did what I wanted, and don't think I destroyed any worlds while doing it.

Otherwise, a couple thing about wearing these pants. I need to study other women about this, because I had a few things I noticed that wouldn't have been an issue in guy shorts. First, I drove to the park, and therefore needed my license. This meant I had no pockets for it. Or my keys. I locked the wallet in the car, and just carried the keys. It was kinda beneficial in a way, having my keys in my hand, because the third thing was what to do with my phone while walking.

I normally am looking at my phone the whole time. My upper back had been sore, so I thought, maybe I should enjoy the walk more and not be looking at the phone. Less hunching over. So I put on a podcast (WTF with Marc Maron, guest Steven Dorff) and just walked. But I had nowhere for my phone. I ended up sticking it in the waist band of my pants, which worked just fine. The walk was very pleasant, I enjoyed the chat the two men had on the podcast, I smiled and said hello to other park people that I passed, and it was nice.

I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this, it's probably very boring to read. But, I enjoy it. It's kinda me at this moment. Enjoying the little things maybe a tiny bit more. Getting outside. Exercising. Having positive thoughts. Expressing myself as I see fit. You might say, walking through life. Yup, I said it. Groan. She HAD to go there.

As I leave you, I wonder, did you read this post and have the old Dire Straits song in your head like I have? If not, let's link to it here. I still think it's a good song. Don't @ me. LOL.