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So, my therapist had me do a project. Well, ex-therapist. I quit her, but I never did the project. Decided to do it tonight. She wanted me to write about how I felt with my 'conditions.' Here ya go. These Things "Imagine a desert. No beginning and no ending. Nothing in sight but sand and an occasional breeze. It’s humid and agonizingly hot, every breeze that wanders through only seems to increase the heat. Every direction in which you wander only seems to send you in the same looping circles, though you cannot tell because there are no markers and no footprints. Nothing to occupy you while you wander aimlessly and afraid. You feel no thirst in this desert. No hunger in your belly. But instead of these things, you instead suffer such an overwhelming sense of failure that nothing seems worthwhile. Every step you take is agony. Your feet burn from the sand, yet you cannot bare to stand in one spot for too long, fearing you may scream from the pain. Yet it doesn’t matter, because every scream that escapes your lips is silent. Every wail and cry is unheard in this vast and seemingly empty desert of sand and dune. No one can hear your grief. No one can comfort your fear. Ghosts only occupy your mind, though they whisk away as nothing but sand with empty and concerned eyes. There seems to comfort from this burning hell, and nothing seems to comfort and relieve you. It is as if you’re burning apart from the inside out, turning hollow and dark. You think you see shadows of guests in your own personal hell, but alas, they only turn away and disappear into the dunes. Mirages, simply put there to make you hope before making you weep. There seems to be no escape, yet you’re not even sure how you got there to begin with. All you can do is wander, and wait, and hope that someone somewhere will rescue you. These things are Depression. Imagine that you are within a room. It is a tiny room, to be honest. This tiny room has only four walls of a bland grey, the floor covered in broken and cracked tiles of unidentified color. Should you know this color? Have you forgotten this color? The ceiling is low against you. So low that it actually forces you to remain laid down upon that floor, curled up in an uncomfortable position, struggling to find relief from this frustrating situation. No position seems to help, and every part of your body hurts from the attempts to find one. Not only can you find no comfort, but from places unknown, noise vibrates through these walls. These grey, oddly crowding walls. Are they shrinking? Have they gotten shorter? Perhaps you should have noticed this. Have you gone crazy? These noises make no sense. They jumble together like spilt scrabble pieces, making no sense but reaching you nevertheless. Screams inaudible. Nails upon chalk, a pounding like hundreds of hammers against your little walls. Wailing for unknown ailments, furious yelling as though angry creatures stalk for you. Should you remain quiet? Or are they here to help you? No, you remain quiet. Perhaps it is best. The noises never dull. They never quit, and they never quiet. Unyielding and demanding, these sounds pester and frighten you in your little box. You need something—anything—to lock out those taunting walls and frightening noises. Anything to make it stop, even if just for a moment to offer you repreave. Yet…you dare not move. You dare not breathe. They might hear you. They might tear apart your walls and discover you. Every scream seems to be your name. Every angry cuss feels as though it were directed at you. Every wail seems to be of your cause, filling you with despair. And among these things, the whispers can be heard. Are they mocking you? Perhaps. Are they rumors of your existence, spoken either kindly or of ill will? You’ll never know. Are they perhaps just comments of your agony, or broken and weak attributes? Can they see you in that box? Or perhaps they are nothing at all. Perhaps you’ve simply lost your mind. Is this all a game that you’re failing? Regardless, they persist. Should you listen? It hurts to hear their sounds. But what if it is something important? Maybe you should know these things. If only it were all silent, you could perhaps breathe. The tiny confinement limits your air, cutting away your ability to think clearly with all the noise and that agonizing sense of dry drowning. You want to escape. You want to flee as far and as fast as you can. But instead, you have to wait for someone to open your box and let you out. These things are Anxiety. Your day begins as it always does. You don’t remember when exactly you fell asleep the night before. Or what woke you up today, for that matter. Regardless, here you are. You stare at the ceiling in a sense of hopeless ambition, feeling as though you’re sinking. You almost hope you do, actually. To sink down so far that you will never have to come out. Yet, you do. You somehow insist on getting up, beginning to dress yourself. What will you wear? Will you conform to society’s demands, or will you do what makes you feel normal? Let us assume for a moment that society rules today. You wear what they demand, a sense of aching in your chest as you slip into the clothes that they deem appropriate. You feel ridiculous and hideous, yet you endure it. Perhaps you wander to the bathroom and paint on a face that is not yours? Wearing a mask with bold lettering stating “I’m fine”. Perhaps you will do something with your hair. You’re not entirely sure what to do with it, because everything you attempt seems odd and unfamiliar. As if you’re modeling yourself in someone else’s image. Someone you are not, yet….someone you are. They say you are. They insist you are. With a heavy sigh and a broken heart, you wander from your room. Will you work today? Will you go to school today? It all blends together regardless. It feels as though all eyes are on you. Every detail of yourself seems flawed and obvious, and everyone is whispering about it. You are desperate to hide, even if for a moment. This isn’t you….This isn’t who you are…but its only for today. Right….? No, let us instead chose that you decide to be yourself. You set aside those things, and you avoid that mask. It has been put away for now, and you can use your authentic smile and enjoy today. You dress as you wish, and do your hair as you please. Yes, this looks right. This looks pleasing for once. Is that a smile I see? Yes, I think it is, actually. Perhaps today will be fine Perhaps today you will enjoy being out of that bed. But wait…they’re still looking at you. Are they looking even more? I cannot tell, to be honest. But…but wait. Those things you don’t like. They’re hidden, aren’t they? Those things that you wish you could remove yourself, but know it will end you for certain. They cannot be seen can they? But it feels as though everyone sees them. Everyone seems to point, even if not physically. They whisper, they talk, then they giggle. Do they know this is really you? Or do they think this is a mask? Do you blend in, or do you stick out like some freakishly abnormal thumb? Perhaps you will be the mask again tomorrow. Perhaps it is safer. But wait…the mask hurts. But doesn’t this hurt? Nothing seems right. These things are Dysphoria. Today you are happy. Today you have had no cause of alarm, and you’ve found a rather enjoyable time either playing games or spending time with friends. Your smile is priceless, your joy unavoidable. It seems contagious, as if you have gotten the laughing virus and no one is immune to your illness. You find a smile on the faces of others enjoyable, and you thrive on these things. You giggle and you jump around, having a blast and perhaps even singing without shame. You dance as if your mother will be embarrassed, and you have no shame. But wait…what is this? Where did this darkness come from? Your smile disappears. Your chest aches and you can feel your heart sinking. As if it were a literal disease, your heart sinks into your stomach like the titanic and disappears. You look around, and everyone is still smiling. Why wont they stop smiling? All you can think is “stop smiling at me!”. You want it to stop, and its making you furious. What is this feeling? Where has it come from? Nothing had upset you that you can remember. You were so happy five minutes ago. What changed? People will ask you what they did wrong. You have no answer for them, yet somehow it is annoying that they ask. They will ask you ‘are you angry at me?’ and you will struggle to figure that out. Are you angry with them? But weren’t you just happy with them? Did they do something wrong to you, or have they done something that somehow impacted your emotion? You cant even put words to it. It is as if someone has taken your happy. They have taken that little spark in your eyes and put it in a box, and they’re holding it hostage. Perhaps it will come back. You want people to give it back to you, and you want them to understand that they did nothing wrong. But you wish they’d stop asking you what is wrong. You don’t know what is wrong, and it is frustrating to try and figure it out. But wait, what is this emotion now? Are these new things? These things are Bipolar. You have your desk, and it is your own. Your own design, your own order, your own creation. Things are just as you please, and nothing can damage that. You know how things are to be done, and how things will work, and these things make life pleasant. You enjoy your things and your desk, your creations and your order. Yes, your order. The patterns in which you place things, making them as your mind has decided ‘yes, this is right’. You will not understand this order, but you will obey this order. You may try to explain it to others around you, but this is a language that they do not understand. You walk away, pleased with this order. But wait, you come back. Someone has altered your design. They have changed your order. These things are not in their places. Your mind falters like a car out of control, screaming tires and smoke. No, no, no, no! This must be corrected! They have changed things! What has been changed? You cannot decide. No, no, this must not be. These things make your head ache, your heart beat rapidly, your hands sweat and your fingers shake. No, this must not be! You scramble to fix these things. People point and laugh. This is amusing to them. They will alter them later simply to watch you panic once more, though they hardly understand the pain your head feels at this moment. These things must not be so. Your order must persist. Your design must be as it was. Your stomach is in knots, as if this alter of design will cause you harm. As if this change of pace will bring forth a sense of dread unknown to man and misunderstood by all who witness it. Wait…yes…yes, this is better. This is your order. Yes, you have fixed this disaster. You have brought peace to this chaos. You’ve done it! You’ve brought back your order, your design, you have recreated the life in which they have destroyed. Yes, you can breathe now. You can breathe. You can relax. All is well, and all shall remain well. So long as the order is kept… These things are Over Compulsive Disorder. There are more of these things. Perhaps we will speak of these things later. These things have made me tired. Warren G." Also my Mom called me Ren. Kind of a big deal, but I'm still cautious about it. It's not like her to cooperate so well....

Jeez, that is a long time, so sorry to hear this.

​fighting them since 2005

Yesterday morning I was thinking about covering up one tat for another and got lucky, the artist told me she is backed up until mid September but had a cancelation so about one hour later I had a dolphin covered up and a butterfly in it's place. Since the new tat is on my back need to get a friend to take a picture which I will post when that happens. Went for coffee this morning and the girl there took a picture for me. Any ways now have butterflies and flowers on left and right side on my upper shoulders. On the right side I have a combo of butterflies, flowers and a happy and flowery skull, The artist last saw me as a male and yesterday did not recognize me but said after I told her she worked on me before that she said that she thought she knew me somehow but was not sure. Once I told her my story we got on very well, had a great conversation while she worked on me. The best topic was on being female from the perspective of both of us being cisgender even thou I am not cisgender as she treated me that way. What I took away from us chatting is that if a trans person, me or another acts the part them conversation does not revolve around one's journey but instead day to day life. This is important for others to realize following the path I took to not focus on your journey when coming out to others but only give them the minimum facts and move on to day to day chit-chat. I will admit she did ask a few questions like was my surgery in Oregon and how did I select a surgeon.

Ren, I read the first couple of entries for now, will read the rest later, but I wanted to say how encouraging it is to see how well you seem to understand and examine the things that trouble you ("trouble" seems insufficient, bit it's all I can think of at the moment). There's still no doubt a long journey ahead, but understanding where you are starting from is a vital first step. For so long I knew something was wrong, very wrong, but couldn't identify it, or worse, I misidentified it. Stay strong! And please keep sharing xoxo Christie

Hiya Nicky. I Am 53 Now, But, I Had to have All My Teeth Removed, at the Age of 22. I have had Full Dentures, ever since. I had a Previous Dentist, messed up My Teeth. So I had My Own Teeth, for Less than Half My Life. Nicky, Good Luck Love, and I hope sincerely, that You get New Dentures sorted out soon. Please let Us Know. Nicky, You Are So Pretty, and We would Not Know from Your Photograph's, about Your Mouth. Nicky, Take Care, and My Very Best Wishes, Stephanie. xoxo

Hi Monica, I have been using OralB purchased in 2005. The lady who cleans my teeth and the dentist told me I should not use toothpaste when cleaning but use a small amount as I have been so use to toothpaste. As to investment in dental health, have one dentist and a specialist for around the past 15 years.

I was responding to a post titled Courage of Being Transgender in Public and decided not to respond there as my response seemed better off as a blog entry, more visibility. I have no issues passing and if I was not passable I would still had gone through my journey. Sure it's nice to pass and not be mis-gendered but focus should be on what makes you feel proper. For some Vaginoplasty is the only option, others might go with Orchiectomy and in rare cases Penectomy. Vaginoplasty needs two therapist approval and RLT (real life test) so going this route one commits to a gender change while the latter don't and one could very well live their lives in between two genders. Then still on the last two, one might want to fully transition but for health reasons is not an option. These options are good to know going down this path especially if age and health might prohibit one of the options. One must be absolutely positive before any of these options are performed as they of course are irreversible. I was asked to sign a waiver indicating I understood that at me pre-surgery appointment and it took longer to open the pen then to write my signature yet I have heard of some who did the RLT and obtained letters from therapist for GRS (Gender Reassignment Surgery) that have hesitated. There are options for those who look at surgery as they only way to be happy and get surgery regardless of them having the ability to pass. For those who may not pass they need to consider will I be able to still support myself, how many family members and friends will be lost or if I rent will I be kicked out, yes any and all may happen. If you read enough of my blog and post here I tend to paint a picture that is sometimes may sound like doom and gloom that hopefully gets those considering surgery to take real deep thoughts to the outcome of GRS and all that is entailed before and after surgery. Surgery is but a small part of the process yet so huge in the overall scheme of life that one must comprehend the end game and how about if one elects not to have surgery and that leads to a down fall of the person? It's a slippery slop. Bottom line is take the time and make the right decision where you end up in a happy place, leave this world not by frustration of being in the wrong body but leave this world after you have fully embraced a happy you. Personally I am on a mission to destroy all federal and local records of me once being a man which at this moment in time is changing my birth certification.

Dear Karen, Have heard it is best to use a small amount of toothpaste, the size of a pea, as the amount shown on the toothpaste/toothbrush ads (a line of toothpaste along the entire length of the bristles on the toothbrush) is way too much and is shown like that for advertising purposes only, to encourage consumers to use more toothpaste, for the companies' benefit, not the consumer's. Your friend, Monica

Dear Karen, You are wise to get the tooth removed and the one behind it, as it seems like there was an infection (abscess) under the tooth, and it usually affects nearby teeth. Having them removed prevented further problems. May I suggest the Sonicare electric toothbrush http://www.philips.com http://www.sonicare.com as I feel that Sonicare electric toothbrushes are the best brand available, and are an excellent investment in you dental health. Get well soon. Yours truly, Monica

Hello Monica. Somebody's Size, Does Not Matter, Especially When It Comes To Friends. Monica, I Would Be Proud To Be Seen With You, At Any Time. You Are My Friend, And You Also Have A Heart Of Gold. I Take People As Individuals, Regardless Of Their Race; Creed; Colour; Religion; Gender; Sexuality; Or Size ! It Is The Whole Person That Matters, And By That, I Mean What Somebody Is Like Inside, As Well As Outside. Monica, Have A Great Day, Speak Soon. Take Care My Friend, And Very Best Wishes, Stephanie. xoxo

Dear Ben, Learn all you can about "adrenal fatigue," by googling and YouTubing it. Notice with myself I gain pounds and then inches (or vice versa) alternately, and it is the same when I lose weight. Also noticed recently I am dealing with bloating, which can be caused by glucose intolerance (even by eating too much sweet fruit) and lactose intolerance (eating too much dairy). Have accepted that I am a big woman, and other can or can not accept that. When it comes to dating, I am drawn to women my own size, and I notice people are drawn to friends and partners near their own size. Can understand that with lovers, but not with friends! Go figure!! Ben, you are a handsome man, and I feel that a lot of skinny and thin girls will find you handsome! May I suggest that you develop a talent, such as singing, playing an instrument, joining a band, etc. Those kinds of talents get people away from the physical and into who and what you really are! Your friend, Monica

Hiya Warren. I think You have done exactly the right thing Young Man. As hard as it might sound, I don't think that blood is always thicker than water, when it comes to Families. Warren, I don't know if You saw what I put, on Saturday, about My Own Family, but, most of them, are just Not worth knowing, Full-Stop ! Warren, You, ARE Among Friends here, and We won't Judge You. I Am a Pre-Op. MtoF Transsexual Myself, so Who would I be, to Judge other People ? Warren, if ever You Want a Chat, I Am About on here, a lot of the time. Monica is about a lot as well, so there will always be someone Who cares about You ! By the Way Warren, I did like the Blue Hair ! I Am 53, and My Hair, is still Naturally Dark Brown. But, I Will Grow Old "Disgracefully" ! L.O.L. !!!! Warren, Take Care Young Man. Speak Soon. With Very Best Wishes, Stephie. xoxo

Got asked about documentation my mom couldn't find, so I handed her what I stored away in the safe. After finding the documents, I reiterated that it might be difficult to do what she wants as my gender marker and first name are being changed slightly. And all I got was, it's your life and your problem when I'm dead. I've always known my support came from my father, so with the lack of support from the one we call Hammie (what my siblings and I call our mother). But I also know, that out of guilt I am mentioned in a will I want nothing to do with. I also know as the last born, my responsibilities to listen to my immediate elders input, I should listen and react as desired, but as with all families you need to walk your own path towards your happiness and fulfillment. In this short piece I'm just trying to say, don't let negative or cold shoulders or emotionally detached family dictate what makes you happy and whole. If you do follow what they want of you or let their attitudes dictate you feeling depressed because they seem like the only people in your life that should care for you. DONT LET YOUR FAMILY FORCE YOU INTO SOMETHING THAT IS MAKING YOU UNHAPPY, AS THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO BE THE CORNER STONES IN YOUR LIFE THAT SUPPORTS YOU IN ALL PARTS OF YOUR LIFE. And if you have that support, be grateful, you were granted a support structure you can call at any time. Much love... Michele

I took some time off of work. It was wonderful. 11 days off. Spent a lot of time with my family and my children. So as with everything, it is just a fleeting moment, a "snapshot in time". I had to go back to work and my wife took the kids to her parents to FL to visit. Right off the bat, I MISS ALL OF THEM!! They left Sat morning, but I found myself in full meltdown mode on Sunday night. And I found myself seriously questioning transition. I cannot remember the last time I called "home" in tears. Nothing is stronger than the human bond. Anyways, I mentioned in previous blog posts that I've had these minor panics in the middle of the night. Mostly based on transition. I called my mom last night, because I knew that I needed it. She and I had the most frank conversation about being trans*, what it means, how "I feel". She still does not understand, but is very supportive, which I am so thankful for. Anyways, I told her that she, my sister and my family (my wife, kids and silly dog) are the most important people in my life. That when I started to take Estradiol, I started to think more clearly than I have for many, many years. And that I wish I wasn't this way, was having second thoughts of transition and that the death of my dad may have something to do with a lot of what I've been going through over the last 9 months. There are other things like losing my business of 8 years, working in DC and having to deal with a terrible commute and the stress of the job. Anyways, she encouraged me to talk with my wife and to think about what I want to do. I told her that my desire to transition was extremely strong, until HRT but that a cloud was lifted when I started HRT and that the Testosterone was causing me to be super aggressive and driven to transition, was gone. Make no mistake. I have been TG my whole life, but this is an adjustment not having T in my system. So, what I told her was that in a perfect world, I would have transitioned when I was child, but that did not happen. Instead, I learned to be male. Being male, versus female, has been such a big part of my life that it has screwed me up. I have learned to socialize as male versus female. This is a huge uphill climb for me. Anyways, there is a saying that, "getting old is not for sissies". Neither is transition. I will find my way at some point. On an up note, I talked to my mom about moving closer to me. She asked me if that is what I wanted and I said absolutely yes! Anyways, my hope is that by the end of next year, we can make it happen. She is one source of my panic. I am afraid of losing her and my sister. So I am hoping that the both of them will be able to move down. Sorry for the fatalistic, crazy diva dump, which is what I've felt like recently. This is hard stuff, it can be situational and very different for everyone. I am just thankful for my family and for the support that I've received here. I love you all and thank you for your love and support. Love and Blessings, Lisa

Thank you all for the feedback. I feel much better. I found myself doubting myself again today, but it was very fleeting. It typically is fleeting. I think that a lot of it is triggered by the unknown. This will take me time to get used to. Right now my breasts are sore and growing like gangbusters. Lots of changes, mentally and physically. Just trying to take it in stride. What I most like about all of this, is my personality. I am so much more of a humble person now and laid back. Other than those crazy moments, I am the opposite of a drama queen. Very even keeled. Not having the T in my system has overall lowered my anxiety, aggressive behavior. I've always been a gentle person and soul, but I am much more calm and understanding. I really like that! It just suits my personality and I feel like I belong to the human race for the first time in my life.

Hi Lisa, As Karen has said questioning yourself is pretty normal, and in the middle of the night, how similar to my experience, I used to worry and question myself with "What the hell are you doing?", only it gets less and less as time has passed. Now, I don't worry anymore about gender I'm just Eve, me and myself (and as Veronica has said so acurately you are a singularity, oh and do not confuse or associate that with being a freak ,as so many ignorant morons do so glibly). I didn't worry about being male much before I transitioned, I'd had years of practice being male, but I just wanted to be female LoL. Similarly after a bit of practice being (or perhaps appearing might be a better term) female I don't worry about it anymore. I hope that this helps you, Cheers, Eve

Lisa, you should never have to be sorry here for as you call it a diva dump as this is one place to do it. Having listening to many on the path to transitioning you are no different then the majority out there so feel good about that whether you question yourself or not as this is better now than later so do the questioning now. As I have told others get to a calming quite place and be true to yourself, that is going through your mind asking questions and also writing them down, why I should transition and why I should not transition and always be truthful.