R.I.P.

With the help of my therapist on Wednesday I came to the realization that the only way for me to honestly be happy was to transition.  I went in and woke up TH (the husband) to tell him.  I was crying and sobbing and had never been more afraid of any decision in my life.  I knew it had to be done, and I was ready.  Our third son is getting married next summer, and I had decided to wait until after his wedding to begin the process.  But, even though I was scared of what life would be like for me, this was a step that I was ready to take.

As I laid in bed with TH, he began to fall apart, and started to cry.  Since 2:30 pm Wednesday, he really hasn't stopped crying.  He doesn't want to lose me, he can't live without me, his life has turned to black.  No matter what I kept telling him, how I kept reassuring him, that I didn't want to leave him, that I still loved him greatly, that I would stay with him the rest of his life.  And then went on to say, it was him that didn't want me in male form, and I totally and completely understood.

I started crying only a few minutes into my session with the therapist, and cried along with TH.  I was grieving for my past life, worried about my future life, petrified about losing my children.....and so I cried, and kept crying, was unable to not cry.  My head was going to explode, so I retreated to our darkened bedroom, and TH trailed along behind me, crying the entire way.  After a few minutes, I held the sheet up to him, and told him to just strip down and get in bed with me.  Scooting up so it was a full body spoon, he held me and let go with gale force tears, weeping as though his heart and been ripped out and stomped on.

 My heart broke apart seeing what I had done to my very beloved TH.  The only person I had ever fallen in love with.  And most likely the only person I would ever love in that bone deep way.  The last sounds I heart that night before falling asleep was TH crying, and shortly after he woke up, he began to cry again.  We both cried almost all of yesterday, off and on.

I couldn't do this to him!  For me to have hurt him so deeply is more than I can deal with.  Life without my beloved TH, is not life at all!  He brings joy to my heart, flavor to my day, life to my soul.  And I know that even though he said I could stay, we could live together, just not as a sexual couple.  In the darkest, deepest recesses of my soul, I knew he could never deal with having a male 'wife'.  He is not built that way, he worries endlessly about being talked about, being pointed out, a victim of gossip.  Me?  I'm used to being on the outside of society, of not fitting in, of being pointed at, gossiped about, my heart and soul, had a nice hard callus to protect it from these sorts of arrows and bullets.  I am the stronger of us.  I am the one who trudges along through the harrowing times, supporting him, carrying him until the footing becomes firmer, and he is able to walk on his own, holding my hand for comfort.  I knew that.  I have always known without a single solitary doubt that I am the one who holds us together.  I am his glue, his protecter, his knight in shining armor.

And so, there is only one thing to do that makes any sense at all to me.  I have to man up to the situation. Put my needs behind me, stand firm and hold him up, until he can stand tall again.

Leaving me feeling as though I have killed, me.  How do I feel about this?  Numb.  In shock.  Grieving for the man I  almost got to be.  No beard, no hairy male chest, no penis.................  He will have to live in my dreams, as he has my entire life. 

Rest in peace dude, I'll miss you.

tick........tick......tick...tick..tick.tick

I'm beginning to wonder if my time in this female body is ticking down.  I've been experiencing "The Dream" in which I'm male, more often than before.  They are also more vivid, to the point of leaving me ever further adrift from my physical self.  This is my most recent one.

In my dream, I'm sleeping and an itch bothers me to the point of waking me up.  I run my hand under the tee shirt, and start to scratch my chest which is where the itch is so very intense.  What my hand encounters is a male chest, covered in hair, and quite muscular.  The feel of the chest hair, the firmness of the pectoral muscles, must have intruded into my dream to the point it woke me up.

I opened my eyes on the very room I was dreaming in, with my lightly snoring TH beside me.  Confused, shocked, panicked and elated, I ran my hand underneath my tee shirt, the same one in my dream as well, only to find my usual female self.  But all day, the feeling of that chest hair lingered on my fingertips.  The different contours of male and female chests also kept pinging away at the back of my mind.  The only way I could fall asleep was with my hand inside of my tee shirt, against the skin of my chest.

January 4th marked my awaking day.  I awoke to my true self.  No more hiding, no more running, coming face to face with who I honestly am.  At first my feeling was on of pure joy!  I felt free, easy within my physical self that had only occurred a very few times in my life.  That joy quickly began to leak, and drain away, as it became clearer and clearer to me, that one never receives any gift that doesn't come with a price.  My price for understanding who and what I truly am?  The slow melting away of my marriage.

Trying to figure out how to cram two genders into one body, happily is something that I'm currently working on, and so far miserably failing at.  Yes, it's early roads yet, and don't really expect to be able to pull off this transformation overnight.  I do believe that the eldest son and the second son are worried about me.  To the point where son #2, is texting more of late than he had in over 6 months previously.  He's inviting me out to lunch, and taking me along on his hunt for a new car.  Tonight son # 2 and wife caught me crying, I told a lie about the tears being due to a massive headache, left over from the shellfish reaction.  Did they buy it?  I'm not sure.  Son #1 and wife are bringing the baby over more often for me to hold and play with her.

TH has pulled so very far away from me, that when I take his hand when we are out together, he hesitates for a brief moment before he wraps his hand around mine.  And now if I want to hold hands I have to initiate it.  The same with hugs.  Kisses?  Wow, it's been so long since we last kissed, I'm not sure clearly when that was.......

Do I find a way to stuff away my inner self, kill "him" as it were, and try to find my old footing?  Go it alone into a scary world of transitioning, and possibly losing my children in the process?  Because for sure TH will be out of my life, he refuses to live with me if my female body is shed.  Now that I'm awake, can I go back to sleep again?  Now that "he" has stretched and been allowed out of his cocoon, is there any going back?  Could there be a way of convincing TH to stay, if I start hormones and have top surgery?  If my genitals don't change, could he learn to love me with a hairy male chest, and a face that has to be shaved?  These questions keep swirling around inside my head on a non-stop loop, that is invading my sleep, and keeping me poised on the edge of depression.  I quiet the questions, the fears, the desires for only days at a time, before they come rushing back to overwhelm me again.

What is it that we really fall in love with anyway, their soul, heart and mind, or only their fleshy outer coat?  If love is only skin deep, is it love, or something much shallower?  Thinking over it, what would happen if the roles were reversed?  That TH came home wanting to transition into a female, could I adapt to that?  Honestly I have no hard and pure answers to that question.  I would hope that I would try to adapt, but unless I'm put in this position, knowing the truth of my response is impossible.

So, I wait, and hope.  For what?  I'm not even sure what I'm hoping for any longer, but at least my hope is still flickering inside.  And surely that's a good thing, yeah?

bleech!

Tuesday I made scallops and clams, and had a hellz of a huge allergic reaction to them, including for the first time in my life, a case of hives.....yeah so not pleasant.  I thought if only i could scratch my skin off things would be ever so much betters.  The only thing i did enjoy about the whole over blown reaction was  this wonderful floaty feeling of drunkness, now that was nice!  However the stuff they gave me, Benadryl makes me feel like something the cat drug in and the dog took back out and buried.....sigh.  Still on the mend i guess.  Hope this cruddy feeling passes soon, cause I'm way trashed and flat from all of the benadryls.

just so very awesome

I want to thank all of your for your very awesome support.  How I would have managed without your words of wisdom, hugs and long chats, I shudder to think about how much worse it would have been.

And no, things are no better, as a matter of fact in several areas they are much much worse........

So, yeah nothing new here, just a thanks.

5 on the fifth

I've been trying to write a post for a few days now, and i just sit and look at the little blinking curser.  Still depressed, but doing better.  Had my first session with a therapist on Wednesday, so we shall see if this helps.  I sure hope so, cause the boys are noticing, and my depression is so bad it's showing up in photos.....
So, am going to post this instead....

This month is about journeys.....

                                      The just finished journey from winter into spring.  This was 3 days ago.

Have shoes will travel.

A mind journey.

A journey of self discovery.

A journey into life, my  grand daughter!