accept. embrace. live.

I wrote last week about this supposed purgatory that I'm in... focusing on the physical, appearance stuff. I'm also in a purgatory of another kind... a mental purgatory, not between male and female, but between fantasy and reality. One particular member on my trans website is fond of saying "when the fantasy stops, the reality begins." I'm having a lot of trouble these days discerning between the two. There is a big part of me that feels as if nothing I'm doing now, is real or has meaning... I feel like reality starts, the meaningful stuff starts, when I go full-time. The stuff I do now... go to support groups, the rare night out with cisgender friends, the trips to the grocery store, mall, etc., don't feel like reality. Going out shopping, etc., that's not interaction with people who mean something to me. Which renders such interactions meaningless, more or less. The people who do mean something to me, I rarely see, and I am getting tired of constantly being the one to reach out. I did have a little dose of reality today when I called my daughter's school to tell them that she had a "family situation" that the school ought to be aware of.  I ended up leaving a message for the principal... I think the anticipation will be worse than the reality, with respect to that.

Another reason that things don't feel all that real to me now, is that *I* don't feel all that different. Generally, I feel happier and more smily and better, but I don't feel like this different person, for the most part. I don't feel female at the moment, I feel transgender and dysphoric and lonely. I don't enjoy any of these feelings. I hope it goes away someday. Intellectually, I don't know that my life is going to change all that much. And if that's true, why the hell am I doing all this? What's the point, why am I subjecting my kids and myself to this, other than the fact that I have no choice?

Someone on the same website posted a link to a story about Christine Daniels... a TG woman who de-transitioned and ended up killing herself.  She was a sportswriter for the LA Times who transitioned rather publicly.  She couldn't handle the reality of her situation. Once she went full-time, it was too much for her to bear. The thing that scares me is that I really have no idea or concept of what it's going to be like, until I am out there. These days, if it is convienient for me to, I can put on the male hat when I don't feel like dealing with being trans... on the phone, with my landlord, when I step out of my townhouse to get the mail, stupid everyday nothing things one never thinks about. When I'm full-time, I won't be able to do that. I'll have to be "on," 24/7.

I remember thinking, back in my days of denial, thinking to myself, "Wow, I am so glad I am not a transsexual. I feel so sorry for those people. No matter what they do, or how they look, they'll never truly be what they want. They'll never be able to carry a child. They have to take pills for the rest of their life. They'll never be a genetic woman." Well, guess what, chica. Welcome to your life. Christine Daniels wasn't able to be what or who she wanted. Granted, she was a public figure and no doubt felt tremendous pressure to be out there as a representative of the TG community. Which didn't help matters. But still. I hope that my path gets me to the point of congruency... makes the dysphoria go away. I don't know what I will do, if that turns out not to be the case. One can see how a woman such as Christine Daniels ends up doing what she did, and this scares the crap out of me at times.

I hate it when I start thinking like this. I'm pretty optimistic as trans people go, but this isn't all rainbows and unicorns and sunshine, no matter how cute I look in a ball cap and ponytail. Right now, my thoughts are best described as very nihilistic. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.  I'm not in a good place right now, so I am going to shut up.