A Surprising Lack of Fervour

I don't believe I've said it before, but it should be noted that these blog posts are (and are going to be) mostly stream-of-thought pieces with minimal editing.

Studies have found, I am told, that emotion cannot be maintained for significant periods of time. Whether a person's life and environment are good and bad, key moments not withstanding, most people will keep a dull and steady equilibrium of neutrality.

Perhaps that theory can explain why I do not on a daily basis tear my hair out, shriek myself hoarse or attempt to throw myself from some precipice or other. I rarely shake myself to pieces with self-loathing and fear I will never begin to approach my ideal - feminine - self image. Weeks can go by in emotional mediocrity, where I might almost be resigned to remaining... as I am.

I wonder, am I unusual in this as a transitioning would-be-woman. Does it show a death of hope? Or, more terrifyingly still, that I was mistaken all along?

Am I, in fact, cismale?

No, that can't be right, I am sure of that much at least. I react to that thought as I might to the existential horror of realising I am some inhuman, Lovecraftian being.

But still... the concern remains - why do I not feel as keenly as I might?