Here Again

One of the most dangerous things I have ever encountered has been the feeling, after an extended time of everything seemingly falling apart at the seams, of things suddenly settling down. Awaking one morning free of anxiety and fear. Of the doubts and questions falling silent.

It is a devious thing which leads me to feeling as though I could continue as I have forever.

This is especially true after an extended time of slipping further and further toward an inescapable breakdown. Reaching the point where I could see it, just over the horizon, a building glow of destruction waiting patiently for me. 

I have reached this point more times than I care to remember. Some how I have survived them, though I cannot tell you how or why, though each time as left me forever changed.

This time has been in the making for months, years really, and I looked forward to embracing it with open arms.


Because I am not as strong as people seem to think. I am not brave or courageous. I am simply one person who has reached far beyond her breaking point, who’s knotted rope is frayed and in danger of snapping.

Someone who is tired beyond words but knows there are others who depend on me. People to whom I have made promises I can’t bring myself to break.


I know I said all of this countless times before and yet here I am again, still unable to believe in myself, to trust myself. Still listening to the whispers telling me I am wrong and even if I’m not, then following my heart, hoping to find some small measure of happiness, makes me selfish. 

So much of my life wasn’t about me. It was about what I could provide to others. Setting aside my own hopes and dreams so someone else wouldn’t feel like the failure she had mede of herself. I know this, yet I cannot break free of the chains she wrapped so tightly around me that I am still bound by them though she has been dead for years.

I have no doubt she wanted me dead and if not then as miserable as she was and I fear, one way or the other, she is going to get her wish.


The Truth Will Set You Free

Regardless of how many times you lie to yourself the truth will come out.

I can be unbelievably stubborn even when I know deep down I’m wrong… maybe more so. For months now I have been struggling to shed myself of all things gender related, thoughts, emotions, even dreams. I have refused to present as myself, tried to change the way I thought, spoke… my mannerisms. Anything, everything.

I was willing to destroy myself from the inside out to be remade in an image which was never mine.

My depression spiraled out of control. Anxiety and stress began to erode my health. Dysphoria and suicidal thoughts coursed through my mind as I struggled to build walls of denial around myself only to watch them crumble with a single discussion or pronoun.


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It seems maybe I’ve gone a “little” overboard trying to explain what’s going on inside my head. I have long used words as a shield, not from others, but from myself and the truth of my thoughts. In the end I am a coward, afraid of my own shadow… my own thoughts and emotions. It has always been easier to evade than stand up and except the truth. To give up than fight.

Of course fighting only works when you’re on the right side. Too often, almost always really, I have been fighting against, not for, myself. Most times I find myself trapped by the feeling, almost a certainty, I am wrong. Whatever I thought, felt, experienced, was never what I thought it was. At least this is what I convinced myself to be true. 

This has been even more true with being transgender. I begin to accept the truth about myself, feeling better about myself and who I am and then the voices of the past come back whispering in my ear, bringing back all the old doubts and fears, causing me to question myself and it becomes an avalanche which buries me, crushing beneath its weight. Instead of fighting it I simply give in. After all, when the whole world screams “you’re wrong!” how can you be right?

This is what has been happening to me over and over these past months. I reached a point where I was willing to turn myself inside out trying to be this thing everyone insists I am but I can’t do it. Who I am in my very core refuses to be pushed aside.

Despite my promise to myself I was going to leave anything to do with Kira behind and to become something, someone, else, I would find myself answering the question, “your name?” with “Kira”. No thought, no hesitation. In fact it happened today at a local store. Several times I have come out to people I never thought I would. 

You see, this year has been a real mess in the real world. I lost my job after having a nervous breakdown, then we moved to a new neighborhood where, due to some things beyond my control, everyone met me as male and I began to believe the universe was conspiring against me ever being able to live my life as Kira. Soon I convinced myself I was never meant to transition, I would be forever trapped being nothing more than a ghost, a dream which faded in the light of everyday reality.

Of course nothing is ever black and white, simple or straight forward. Time and again I would find myself returning to my natural mannerisms, my normal voice. I found myself drawn to things which I liked and enjoyed such as clothes only to spend hours, even days beating myself up over because they were feminine.

Then someone would call me “Miss” or address my partner and I as “Ladies” and instead of being upset, I felt elated. Then back to beating myself up of course.

The fun part? Every night I would go to bed and think I had survived another day without transitioning, never mind the fact I had been slowly falling apart. 

Following the incident in the store, I returned to my car where my partner was waiting and told her what happened. Then I asked out loud, “why do I keep doing this to myself?” to which she replied, “Because it’s who you are.”

She’s right of course.

When everything else has been stripped away, I know who I am and trying to deny it is a pointless exercise in futility because the truth will always come out regardless of if I want it to or not.



Dust and Dreams

I’ve been asking myself, where do I go from here? for sometime now and I realize I’ve known the answer all along…

No where.

I’ve traveled this road for as far as it goes… as I have often thought, I may have gone too far long ago. My feet kept going but the rest of me faded into dust and dreams.

I don’t know what comes next… I don’t suppose it matters anyway.

What will be… will be.

Personal, Transgender

Weekend Wind Down

I know I’m not where I need to be. I would say not where I want to be but I’m not sure where that is. Right now it feels as though I have fallen back into survival mode, just trying to make it from one day to the next… well, sometimes it’s one hour or even one second to the next. 

I talked with my therapist and she said what I knew deep down, I have to start pushing back on all the negative thoughts and emotions. I have to learn to not only think I have value, I need to reach the point where I believe it. Not such an easy thing to do when you have more than five decades of accepting such things as truth. A lifetime of having every moment judged and found wanting… A lifetime of defeating yourself with nothing more than a thought. Of being convinced all of your hopes and dreams are beyond your grasp because you’re not good enough… will never be good enough. I suppose despite everything there were some lessons I learned too well. 

I need to learn to trust myself, my thoughts and emotions. To be able to follow my heart where ever it leads. 

This is important for more reasons than just transitioning. It is the core of being happy with myself regardless of any other factors, after all, even if I were to become female from my atoms outwards I would still have these issues to deal with. I was never so foolish as to think estrogen was some magic drug which would make everything better.

This really hit me today after I met some more of my partners family for the first time in over twenty years.

This became something  important to me because it has been a long time since I did anything visible to be seen as female and though it has progressively bothering more and more I have done nothing to change course. I can give you a dozen excuses as to why but that is what they would be, excuses. The truth is I’m not sure what is going on deep inside myself. I’m sure much of it has to do with the things I talked about in the beginning of this post, but I also know I don’t trust myself and I don’t respect myself enough to try and gain that trust… and yet, the thought of anyone seeing me or knowing me as anything other than Kira makes me physically ill. It drive a darkness so deep into my heart I can barely catch my breath and so I told them. I showed them pictures. I spoke a little about myself and admitted to going through a rough time at the moment and it did help a little. 

After I returned home I’ve done little but think about what happened. If this is so important to me then why can I not do what I need to do? Why does the thought of presenting correctly seem to drain me of all of my energy and will power? Why do I give up before I’ve started?

Of course this sets me off down an all too familiar path of self incrimination, self loathing, self hatred, and in the end I am left with unshed tears and no answers.

You know, I am sick to death of this but I don’t know how to break free. 


Trying To Understand

I apologize if this turns into a rambling mess. Right now I’m not sure what I am feeling or why. I just know it seems as though I’ve been drained not only of energy but of any vision of who or what I want to be when this is over.

Not so long ago I felt confident in the path I was following but lately, when I look inside all I find is a blank space. Where I could close my eyes and see myself as I have for so long, now the canvas is empty. Where I could let my mind go quiet and I could hear my voice clearly, now only silence answers me. When I cast out to understand the ways in which I experience the world, everything blends together… past and present until it seems as though who I am know has never changed from who I was for so long even though all those memories have been colored by thoughts and expectations I could never fully understand or relate to. In too many ways I feel as separated from what a part of me thought I should be as from what the world and those around me believed I should have been. As if there was an invisible wall between us.

For so long I would catch the briefest of glimpses of my deepest self or at least what I thought it was. A movement, a glance, a turn of phrase. A thought, a hope, even the fading memory of a dream. Now, all of these things leave me feeling more empty than I can fully express and dreams leave me with a lingering sadness which often carries throughout the day.

Now I sit here and try to convey this sadness to you so someone might understand…


End of the road?

Hasn’t been a good day, depression, anxiety, and headaches. I’m at the point where I have to wonder why I started writing in the first place, which is pretty sad since I’ve been doing this for 6 years. I just don’t know if there’s anything left to say.

It feels as if I’ve reached the end of the road and there’s nothing here but a cliff at my feet and a bottomless pit beyond.


Into The Darkness Again

I’m not sure if I should be writing this, with the way my day has gone I am in a dark place. In fact, if I had to choose a picture to represent my state of mind it would be a dark, evil, cursed swamp…

I have been overwhelmed by anxiety, depression, and dysphoria. This wasn’t the only time I have had these feelings… I’ve had them pretty steadily since the beginning of the year but today it was more pronounced… to the point where I nearly became physically ill. I still feel like hell.

I did spend time talking with A and everything made sense to my head… it just hasn’t convinced my heart. 

There are things I haven’t been writing about lately because the last time I did I offended someone. Now it may seem silly to let a single negative comment affect me, especially on my own blog, but it did… and still does. The main problem was I didn’t make it clear what I was feeling and then sharing was completely about me and was in no way intended to express my thoughts or feelings regarding anyone else. Many of the things which burrow through my brain never reach beyond my own skin. I have never looked at or listened to another trans person and had the same thoughts regarding them and I never will. So, if you read beyond this point then understand, these are issues I am dealing with and in no way reflect my feelings toward the trans community as a whole. My only hope is maybe someone will read this having had the same doubts and fears as I and will know they are not alone.


As of this writing I have not undergone any medical intervention, though I would like to start hormones at some point. Maybe taking that small step will help with all these issues. As it stands though, nothing has changed physically and it is constantly causing me problems.

Looking in the mirror, changing clothes, or showering are all constant reminder it doesn’t matter one wit how I see myself in my minds eye or how much I might wish, dream, scream or cry, my exterior does not and cannot reflect these things. It is then the dark voices in my head tell me “nothing has changed and it never will.” I will die being seen as I was in life. The name on my obituary will one I never wanted and didn’t truly belong to me regardless of how hard I tried to live up to expectations.

I understand I can socially transition. I can change my appearance, pronouns, even my name. Yet in the end I will have done nothing more than exchange one costume for another and I just can’t do it. It would be as hollow an existence as the one I am living now.

I cannot express how much this hurts. It is slowly tearing me apart from the inside out.

I have survived a number of complete breakdowns but I know there is coming a point where I will not come out the other side and there is a part of me which will welcome it with open arms.

God, I am so tired. Tired of being tired. Of the questions, the doubt, and fears. I am tired of the endless swirl of emotions, of wanting, dreaming, hoping… The endless fog of wishes and unanswered prayers. I am tired of hurting this much… all of the time.

More and more I have found myself thinking I just want all of this to end. I want to awake on day and all of this be a bad memory fading with the morning light…

But even this desire is denied me.