Without being mushy

To everyone who commented on my last post, Thank You for taking the time to share your thoughts, it means more than I can express here.





I was going to write something here but I forgot what it was…

As my Grandmother use to say, “that means it was probably a lie anyway.”

Now sitting here staring at this screen, all I feel is the need to apologize to everyone who has read my meandering thoughts over what seems far to many years. I’m sorry for dragging you into my little pity party which what this has become. A way for me to find acceptance, to be told I really am good enough, that I am making the correct decisions even though I know deep down I am unworthy of such things.

The very fact I am still having the same discussions, the same thoughts… chasing the same hopes and dreams here as I have for my entire life says more about me as a person than any words I could write. In too many ways I am the same now as I was at 10, hopeful, wishful and desperately terrified… of being right… of being wrong. Of being all the things I was told so many times that I was… useless, worthless, unneeded, unwanted… a burden on all those around me, all the while praying someone would tell me differently, in a way I could truly believe…

Yet there is only one person I could ever truly believe, myself, and I cannot, if I am to be honest with myself, speak those words or believe them in my heart.

So… please accept my apology for dragging all of you into my mess. None of you deserve to have such a burden placed on you.



I’ve spent the better part of the day trying to sort out my thoughts and feelings, to find the words to explain what I am experiencing. I’m not sure I’ve done a very good job of it though as every time I open those doors I find myself becoming physically ill or so near to breaking down it takes my breath away. There is so much sadness with endless feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. So many tears… I cannot breathe.

I know I have used the word dysphoria often, but I’m not really sure if it’s the right word to describe how I feel. This body I inhabit is a shell I cannot escape, every cell a jailer I cannot out run. Looking at it forces me to question everything, my thoughts, emotions, hopes and dreams. How I feel myself in my heart, how I see myself when I close my eyes. The voice I hear in the silence of the night. Here, online, I am free to be myself in a way I cannot describe with words alone, but in the real world, I see my physical form and it mocks me. It shows me I have a body which does not, nor will it ever truly reflect my true self. Clothes, makeup, hair… they seem more like a costume, covering up a truth which could be uncovered in a heartbeat, stripping away the truths which lay beneath and that is something I just can’t accept.

How can I claim to be true to myself when this form calls me liar?



Today was much better. I actually felt stable, not 100%, but better than the past few days.

Unfortunately my problems were self inflicted by being stupid and not taking my depression or anxiety medication then suffering more withdrawal symptoms than I care to think about.

A word to the wise, don’t be Kira, take your medicine no matter how bad you feel!