Finding My Voice Again

Well… I wrote a new poem. I don’t know if it is good or not, after all, I’m a tad bias about such things. Regardless, it felt good to see the words on the page and to think my muse has returned. While I was struggling to find my voice again, at least poetically, I longed for even the slightest whisper and now I have heard it again.

It may be in some small way that the thought which struck me yesterday started me back down this path; that even though I seemed to be having trouble finding my voice when it came to creative writing, it wasn’t as if I wasn’t writing at all. Indeed, this entire time I have continued to put out posts here. In fact I made it a point to do so. From the beginning I had tried to have something to post each day, no matter if it was a short story, poem, or opinion piece. Even in my darkest times I put up a reblog if nothing else. I forced myself to maintain the link I had here and to those who read my thoughts and writings. It also kept me connected to the larger blogging community. It has been a struggle some days, I won’t deny that, but I just couldn’t imagine what my life would be like without this outlet.

So I finally realized I never stopped writing at all, I was just having trouble writing some of the things I had up until this point. It isn’t as if my ability had vanished in a puff of antidepressant smoke. It was still there, I just had to find it again, and I guess I have.

Doctor’s Apontment

Went to my doctors appointment today. The main reason was for my oldest to get a consult which resulted in him having a new medication to try which will hopefully help him maintain calm after his other medicine has worn off for the day. We’ll see how things go. The second reason was so I could get blood drawn for lab work needed to monitor my BP meds.

While we were there we discussed my being Trans and the issues I need to deal with now. We talked about my dysphoria and the understanding I now have regarding the need for HRT. I’ll get back to the dysphoria in a second… As for HRT, he told us he wasn’t comfortable trying to treat me as he had no experience with the treatment plan, nor did any of the other doctors he has spoken to. He said he didn’t want to chance possibly causing me harm because of his inexperience and I have to respect his feelings on the matter. I did tell him I was going to seek out someone who could deal with this and he completely agreed. Better he said, to go with a specialist. I also let him know, for now, I wanted to lee him as my primary doctor for my other health issues and he is fine with doing so. So, I won’t be staying local like I was still half hoping, but at least I know bester where I stand at the moment. We’ll take our time and do more research into who is available and who will work with our insurance. At least I am still moving forward even if it isn’t exactly the way I had thought.

Now back to the dysphoria… Both A and I were in speaking with the doctor and when I was searching for the right way to describe what I was experiencing, A stepped in and spoke about her observations of how this is affecting me and she said a lot of things which surprised me because I thought I wasn’t being as obvious as I now know I have been. She spoke of my reactions, my demeanor, my moods. This is something which can be seen in every aspect of my personality. I know the saying about the forest and the trees, but it takes sitting and listening to someone else describe you to really open your eyes to the truth of it.

Plans For This Week

This is proving to be a busy week. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow, it’s mostly to have lab work done for my BP meds, but I am going to confront him regarding hormone therapy. Specifically I want to know why he decided to only have my T levels checked and not estrogen as well which is what I thought he was doing. I am also going to be taking him the information I have on standards of care. I seriously doubt he has bothered to do any research on his own and so I am going to have to do it for him or let him know I am going to have to search for a new provider to deal with my health issues beyond the basic things he is currently treating me for. As far as my BP and antidepressant are concerned, I’ll keep him simply because he is local and these are things I have to deal with on a monthly basis. Otherwise I am going to be forced to look to someone else in dealing with anything Trans related. It will be a major pain, but I don’t have a choice.

The other thing is I was contacted by my therapist Jodi today to set up an appointment for this Saturday. I am somewhat conflicted about this as she canceled my last appointment with the promise to get back to me “shortly”, that was three weeks ago. I’m really not sure if she even wants to continue to see me or not and even if she is, I’m not sure I want to see her… I mean what’s the point when I have to go five or six weeks between sessions? Two weeks is often bad enough. Well, I have some time to think about it and I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt until I talk to her face to face.

Speaking of hormone levels, I know if this goes forward then I am going to have to deal with weight issues. I want to continue getting into better shape, just for myself if nothing else. I have lost around 10 pounds or so in the last few months, but i would like to lose about 20 more. I have changed my diet and portion sizes, pretty much dropped any sweets and I am slowly increasing my activity levels to burn off the weight. One thing I probably should bring up with the doctor, (unless he totally blows me off), is getting a new workout program together, what I am doing now is working but I would like to increase how much I am losing each month. I know I’m not going to reach my goal before my next birthday, but maybe Labor day…

The main thing at this point is to keep moving forward. The mistake I made was to think I could simply coast along for awhile, not really making any decisions which would put me outside of my comfort zone. I just couldn’t admit there is no such thing any more.

First Steps: Work In Progress

I had some time to myself today. Not as much as I need but more than I had hoped. I took the opportunity to pamper myself and just to relax in a way I rarely get to do these days. Given the fact school is now out, these times are going to be few and far between until Fall. It’s okay though, it is all part of the routine of our lives and I wouldn’t want it any other way. All too soon the children will be grown and off living their own lives and I hope I can look back on these times not as a trial or a chore but as something which brings to mind fond memories.

One of the interesting things I did was to take time to read a post titled “Amaryllis” It has nothing to do with me directly, but it gave me a way to think about my main character which I hadn’t thought of before… an interesting insight I have only glimpsed before when I have allowed my thoughts to sink into the pool of my own growing understanding of the person I kept hidden away for so long.

I have written about the creation of this character before, at least to the extent she exists in written form. From the very beginning I had a saying in mind, though I don’t remember where I first heard it, “write what you know.” I took this a step farther and also wrote “who I know” better than anyone… myself. As I mentioned, I wanted her to be the conduit for everything I was feeling and thinking. I wanted her to be as real as I am… more so. I wanted her to live and breath. I wanted, by shear force of will to bring her into the world and for me to disappear. For as long as I could remember she was the reality and I was her shadow.

Maybe all of this sounds stupid or worse. Maybe I just can’t find the words to express what I have felt for so long, even in those dark and dangerous days when I did everything possible to hide the truth from myself.

I often wondered if there was anyone else who felt as I did, as if my whole life was made of papiermache and the slightest pressure would tear it asunder and reveal the truth of who and what I was. Yes, it is true I didn’t understand who that was, but I knew it wasn’t the person looking back at me in the mirror every morning. It wasn’t who those around me thought they saw. I was nothing more than what others wanted to see and it was slowly ripping me apart. I remember a friend’s mom once told me she thought I was very mature for my age. What I couldn’t tell her was it just seemed that way because I had to keep such uncompromising control of myself. I had to be a perfect mirror to the world around me, that cynical, hateful, despicable world. I could let the truth out, not one little hint. I wound myself tighter and tighter until she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t whisper in my ear. Couldn’t color my vision. Only in dreams could she be free and finally not even there.

When I closed my eyes that first day and pictured her in my mind, I knew who she was. What she looked like, sounded like.I knew her better then I have known anyone in my life because in the end, when I had finally put away all of the lies and deceit I knew I was looking into the mirror of my soul and she is what I found there. Waiting as she has done for so long for me to finally realize we are one and the same, two sides to the same coin, never parted. There are times when I almost feel as if I had tried to split myself in two, to hide her away and become this thing I was expected to be and yet… and yet how could I have ever done so? She is the core of who and what I am and always has been. That little girl, that woman, has been at the center of all I am and have ever been. She has been the indomitable strength which has supported me. The surety of purpose which has driven me. She has been my compassion and my understanding. She has been my angel and my muse. I could not have lived for as long as I have without her.

This… this is what I want to write. This is who I want everyone to see. This is the reality I want everyone to come to understand through my words.

Memorial Day

Today is Memorial Day here in the US. Despite all the pointless hoopla of sales and having an extra day off, there is a very real and lasting reason to take a moment and remember why we have such a day in the first place…

So, to all of those who have had loved ones, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, fathers and mothers who answered our nations call but never returned, I want to say I remember, I will not forget, and though I may not know all the names, they are forever etched in my heart.

To those who gave the ultimate sacrifice, I know you cannot hear me now, but still I will say “Thank You.”

Back To Writing… Sort Of

I had one of those flashes of creative thought today. It isn’t much, just a series of images in my mind, like a movie trailer. I keep finding my mind rearranging bits and pieces and at this point I can see how much of what I am imagining will fit together into a rough outline for at least part of my novel.

Speaking of writing a novel, I have put a hold on trying to write my autobiography. I really need to do more research into the best way to write it. More than anything I think it best to read some of the books written by other trans women. I suppose I can look at any other of the almost endless selection a biographies out there, but I am of a mind to stay with similar works.

On a different note, one of the issues I have been having has been with the way I dress. Most of the time I have found I have stayed with the same clothes I wear at work, carpenter pants and either a t-shirt or sweatshirt depending on the weather. To be honest this is just laziness on my part. I haven’t been doing what I need to do which is to set those things aside as soon as I get home and to completely change the way I am dressed for the rest of the day. I know this now because it is what I did for today and it has made a huge difference in how I have been feeling. This isn’t about “dressing” per se, I’m not getting all fancied up, just regular clothes, jeans, sweats, t-shirts, sweatshirts, flats or sneakers. It’s just that none of it is what I wear when I normally have to present as male. It is a subtle difference really, but it is important to me.

Maybe I’m finally beginning to find what I need to be comfortable. 

Morons With Broadband

Most of the time I think the internet is a good thing. It allows people from all over the world to share thoughts and ideas, it makes information available to the masses but sometimes I think it is a pestilence on human existence.

Now I am not going to link to the article which prompted this post because I found not only it, but the comment section to be so offensive I am still grinding my teeth and I refuse to afford these people even the smallest of soap boxes for their hatred.

The basic gist of the story is that a mother in Milwaukee decided to raise a stink over her son’s school deciding to have a “Mix It Up Day” in which the children could come dressed as the opposite sex. Now I don’t know about any of you, but my school had this when I was a kid, we called it “Opposite Day.” We also had “50s Day” where everyone dressed like we were on the set of “Happy Days” or “Grease.” The funny thing is, no one had a problem with it back then, in fact most everyone had fun with it, children and parents alike. No one thought it was part of some “Gay Agenda” or “Homosexual Indoctrination.” It wasn’t responded to with vicious, hateful rants from people hiding behind a computer screen. Yet thanks to the internet that is exactly what is happing every time there is a story with even a whiff of talking about the most innocent activity someone can twist into some form of hatred and bigotry. Really people? A stupid, fun day children have enjoyed for decades without a second thought has suddenly become another satanic holiday like Halloween or Thanksgiving… (you know, ’cause turkeys are the chicken of the devil!)

I have nothing against religions nor those who choose to participate in them, what I am against are those who use it as a veil to hide behind while they spew hatred and intolerance toward anyone who doesn’t live their lives just like they do, doesn’t do what they do, doesn’t look like they do, who doesn’t like the same dessert they do.

I have news for these morons: You don’t turn someone gay by watching “Will & Grace” and little Johnny isn’t going to become a Transvestite because he wore a dress to school for one day.

Oh, and one last little thought for all those bible thumpers…

From the New International Version:

Matthew 7:22 Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in your name? and in your name have cast out devils? and in your name done many wonderful works?

And the answer?

Matthew 7:23 And then will I profess to them, I never knew you: depart from me, you that work iniquity.

An Artist Without Art

Something I was concerned about when I began taking an antidepressant was how it might affect my creativity. I had hoped it wouldn’t make a noticeable difference, but as I feared, it has caused a loss in my ability to channel much of my thinking into writing… no, not just writing, but my poetry and art as well. I just can’t seem to find the threads I once followed, the fabric of my ability has unraveled. My muse has fallen silent.

I do get flashes of thought, a moment in which I can see an idea begin to form but it quickly slips from my grasp, a trail of smoke. I have been fortunate enough to be able to write blog posts, my ability to string thoughts and words together holding together enough for that, but anything more seems beyond me at the moment…

I don’t know if anyone else can understand the feeling of loss I have at this moment… imagine if you were a singer who became mute, an painter who became blind, a musician who now deaf. The one thing in your life which brought happiness, a sense of purpose, a way of expression, was suddenly gone. Leaving behind silence, darkness…

I have spent too much time today trying to find a starting point, a beginning to the thread which will unlock my internal mental flow which will bring forth the thoughts and images which flow from my head to my fingers. I have reread things I have written in the past and I have looked at some of the pieces I have drawn. I have read the works of others and looked at the art which has inspired me and still I am left with this void. I’m not sure what, if anything, I can do at this point. It might be I will just have to let things work themselves out, but I am afraid I may have lost my ability for good…