Hey loyal readers,

I was really hoping to have a chapter of Apocalypse Dawn to post tonight but between fighting writer's block since Saturday, having extra shifts this week, and now having a colossal migraine that will not go away, it's just not happening. Hopefully I can shake it and the writer's block off before my one day off on Sunday so I can at least get Snow Angel out on schedule.

*big hugs*

Amethyst

Over the last fortnight, I've been gathering my resources, buy men's clothing, and making all sorts of decisions in a very deliberate way. Life is really complicated and where possible I intend to live as a man as far as that is possible. I idea of living as a recluse in the deep woods keeps passing through my head. I have no idea what my life will look like in the future.

well except when it wasn't!

Dreams can be fun. Dreams can be bothersome. I am very fortunate that I seldom have nightmares. I don’t think I have ever had a night terror. Most of my dreams start out of nowhere and fade into nowhere. Many involve my life in the military and the jobs I had. They are never unpleasant. I also have dreams that involve the work I have done since I retired from the military. I worked In loss control for insurance companies. It was interesting work, and I was good at it. I also dream about making love to wonderful women, including my wife of more than 50 years.

I've not been writing or commenting little if any at all. I'm searching for a way for an old person to move away and become a recluse. I was checking out cars on line, perhaps a lease if they'll let me. I hope that the financers don't try to play games with me.

new little song is up:

https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/98876/dorothy-leads-show

Or what Maddy did next!

Well, the characters of "Games without Frontiers" have decided to take over the story.

wait till you guys see the next chapter . . .

Games without Frontiers part 2 is up:

https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/98815/games-without-f...

As most of you can tell, "Games without Frontiers" is pulling from the darkest part of my past, and then spinning it by imagining if I had been given support right away.

And writing it is stirring up my PTSD like crazy.

So why am I doing this to myself?

Because I think I have no choice.

This story is bubbling up every time I go to bed, so by the time I wake I either write or explode.

So the story will continue, and I will need all the support I can get.

I've had an email today from the Tavistock & Portman NHS Trust to confirm that they have accepted a referral for me. I immediately responded, asking them for my effective referral date and who made the referral. The answers took 15 minutes (!): 26 July 2022 and my GP's team made the referral.

So it's in. Unfortunately the other piece of information from the Trust was that they are giving first appointments to patients with a referral date in July 2018! So if you felt tremors, it's not because I'm jumping up and down with joy.

It was on this date in 1986 that I went to work as me for the first time, goodness it was nerve-racking and looking back on it, it only seems a short while ago, but with a stroke and ageing plus diabetes, I have slowed up considerably, but I am still going and hope to be for a few more years yet.

So when my brother came over on Friday, he told us that his doctor had a lot of trouble finding a pulse on his foot.

Now, none of the reasons this could have happened are good news, but some are obviously worse than others, and I'm going to admit I'm worried.

So I'm taking all hugs and prayers anybody wants to send my way, and if you would include my brother in those care packages, that would be awesome.

Doing better now...

Ever since my name & gender change was official, in March of this year, I have been informing various folk officially of the change. One of those was the Tavistock & Portman GIC Trust in London. When I received a "who are you" back in May I had to let them have my old and new NHS registration numbers, but they couldn't find me. Most recently I sent them the referral documentation.

OK, time for the truth: did anyone else here ever hold private strip-shows in the mirror when you had the house all to yourself?

Details, please. Leave nothing to the imagination.

Image released into the public domain by the author.

Well, 57 years ago in the tiny Canadian province of New Brunswick, I took my first breath.

Many years later, I found this place, got infected by Jaci's girl germs, making me the crazy lady I am today.

Everybody have a huggle on me, and sorry for the girl germs, those are Jaci's fault!

My mom had a tough day, as she got in the middle of a fight between 2 of her sisters.

When she came home to talk to me about it, I mentioned that one of the two has some autistic like qualities and has been like that since she was born, and somehow, that let my mom to start talking about losing her first child, the one she had before Mike and I.

Which got me thinking she might have PTSD because she talked about it not like a memory, but like she was reliving it as she spoke.

Okay so yesterday, my PTSD got so bad, that while I was shopping with Sharon and Sam, I bought a plush toy to act as my emergency support helper.

She is a beholder (From D&D), and yes, she is in fact pink.(was there a question about that?_

Anyway she did a good job, but now, she needs a name.

Any suggestions?

over Sheffield last night!

and other stuff.

If you're the praying type, please pray for me as I am struggling with a combination of PTSD and manic phase rage. If you're not, you could always send a huggle.

and yes i know its only Saturday.