Mike and Carol have been generously helping me with mom, so I don't get overwhelmed, but that has led me to struggle with guilt. Mike has his own struggles, and that makes me feel like I should be taking more of the load so he doesn't have to.

Fortunately at the moment I am able to recognize that making sure I don't burn out is actually doing good for Mom, so I'm resisting the guilt.

At least, for now.

My mom's condition is getting worse.

she's had 4 or 5 delusional episodes today, thinking Mike was fighting a fire in the roof, and Carol was not letting him come down., even though we went upstairs and opened gifts together this morning. Plus, she's not eating more than a couple bites of food. we tried fruit cups and yogurt, but its not her teeth, she simply has no apatite.

All of this stuff is complicated by the fact that: A: Its Christmas; and B: we're in a pandemic.

sighs, hugs appreciated.

Caution: referenced suicide attempt

my mom is trying to arrange staying at my cousin Terry's place, who has decided to buy into my mom's paranoid delusions.

fml

When I was training to be a Nurse's Aide, one of the things I was taught was that people with dementia often struggle more at night, and during my time in the job, I confirmed this for myself.

But its one thing when its a stranger who you are being paid to look after, another when its your own mother.

Its been really hard to have my mom wake me at 4 AM almost every day believing that the house is on fire, or Mike is injured, or most often, that Carol is going to come downstairs and throw her out into the street.

Okay so the geriatric clinic got a hold of us, and are coming Tuesday for an in-person assessment on my mom.

keep sending hugs.

I'm struggling with dysphoria, and to make it worse, I feel guilty. I'm so much luckier than most trans people, it feels like I'm being ungrateful to struggle with those things I don't have.

Hugs appreciated.

my mom's nightly struggle with paranoid delusions is killing my spoons. It's been weeks now since I got to sleep through the night without her waking me up saying her daughter in law has started fires in the electrical wiring or is watching mom through a camera hidden in the vent in her room.

which means I'm letting my self-care slip, and am scared what happens if I have a major PTSD attack or depressive episode.

hugs appreciated.

my mom had her worst episode yet this morning at 3 AM.

She was so convinced that Carol was coming downstairs to throw her out that she barricaded her bedroom door.

sighs, I'm starting to worry we wont last the month we're supposed to wait before she can get an official evaluation

There will be at least one openly trans official at the Tokyo games, a trans woman named Kimberly Daniels will be one of the judges of canoe slalom, while her daughter will be one of the first women competing in the sport.

What's really cool to me at least is that both are Canadians.

I'm struggling with feeling worthless, almost to the point of feeling suicidal.

I honestly don't know if this is PTSD, depression or both, but hugs appreciated

In the aftermath of my blog here yesterday, I was talking with Drea, and came to a startling and sad realization.

That there has been a part of me that hoped the trans stuff was caused by my rapes. Because then if I got over the rapes, I'd get over the trans stuff too.

I was thrown by this, but thanks to people on the BC discord page, I worked through it.

So I guess Dorothy isn't going anywhere, and that's okay.

Okay so last night I had another dream where I was at school (this time it was university, but still) and lost.

Except this time I ran across a really bubbly young woman, who seeing me looking confused took my arm, and when I told her were I wanted to go, she found us a rather round-about route.

There has been a split in my extended family for most of my life, with many of my uncles and aunts refusing to having anything to do with my mom or my brother or I.

Now, two of those uncles are apparently having serious medical problems, and there's every chance I wont know anything unless they die.

Despite this, I'm finding myself wishing I could see them one last time.

Crazy, huh?

I'm sorry to post again so soon, but well, I've gotten some potentially bad news.

The doctor who did the scope on me apparently found some growths in my esophagus.

Biopsy negative for cancer, but their placement is a concern, apparently.

hugs and prayers appreciated.

I had a dream last night that has me questioning me being trans.

In the dream I was at university and sharing a dorm room with a dude.

So when I woke up, I realized that even though I never looked at myself in the dream, I would have to had been a dude too.

Now I'm all mixed up and I want to cry.

Because I'm a tad strange, I decided to count the number of stories I have here.

Final count?

425 individual stories, poems, and essays.

not bad, huh?

I'm a bad writer.

See, instead of writing stories, I've been making D&D characters.

sorry.

so here is my chronicle of my adventures in endoscopy:

after repeatedly telling the nurses and then the doctor about my PTSD and gag reflex, they gave me the normal amount of sedative and then had me clench this plastic tube between my teeth.

10 seconds later I'm gagging and they had to take it out and knock me all the way out to do the procedure.

Sighs, at least it's over ...

I got more triggered by a sweet romantic story than by a story about the sexual abuse of a child.

sighs, I am so messed up ...

I was re-reading one of my old stories, and couldn't help but giggle at this exchange in the comments:

"Boo hoo... You don't love me enough to kill me..."

"I had a special death planned for you but decided to be merciful to my readers, I'll kill you next time, promise."

"Aww, you're a good friend. *hug*"