I had a good session, with one of the things I did was have an exercise where I pretended to punch my rapist, taking time to see how my body moved, what muscles I would use, and so on. Being given permission to be angry at him in a safe place felt pretty good.

I've been thinking about the surgery, and I realized a sad truth. Even if somehow I could magically afford it, who would be with me through it? And after it was done, what in my life would actually change? Plus, I might end up losing my daughter if I were to go further than I have, which would not be worth it.

Ah, well, just another day.

Well, I've written a little epilog to "Six Forty-Five", and I'll publish it tomorrow. With that little piece of business out of the way, I might be able to get back to focusing on my "Quest" story. Hopefully, it will be a bit more popular ....

Meanwhile, I feel a lot better for having written this, so at least in that way it hasn't gone to waste.

Well, I've managed to catch a cold. Blech.

I had not intended this when I started writing "Six Forty-five", but its a lot closer to what I was like at that age than I care to think about. I was a pretty odd kid, yeah?

Reading Karen Bishop's story has had me thinking about memory - especially my memories of my abuse. For most of my life, I had little conscious recall of what happened to me, mostly it was something that I only had flashes and nightmares about. Now, I can remember, and I think that's better, but its been a painful journey, and I'm not done yet.

Ah, well.

I'm really struggling with the voice of self-criticism. Every mistake I make lately is being magnified to something terminal, and I dont know how to turn off this voice.

Help?

During my little "TG-PMS" time, someone said to me my writing comes across as very female. I'm wondering, in what way? What makes a woman writer different from a male one?

I'm not depressed, exactly, but I feel like ... I dont know. All my life I was stuck in boy world, with my face pressed against the glass looking in at girl world, so envious I was salivating like a starving person watching people enjoying a five star meal. Now, I at last found an entrance into that land, but I wonder if I will ever be seen as anything but an immigrant. Will I ever .... just fit in?

Well, its a blizzard out there ! Going to make the trip to work tonight interesting. I hope Mom got to work and will be able to get home safely.

On the radio today, I listened as an announcer read out the transcript of a statement made during the sentencing hearing for Graham James by NHL star Theo Fleury. For those who dont know, James raped Fleury repeatedly while acting as his hockey coach when Fleury was a teen.

I know I shouldn't have listened, but I just had to hear what he said. Even if it hurt, because in some ways, he was speaking for me too, since I will never be able to do so in a court of law about my rapist.

But, dont worry. I'm okay.

I hope.

Well, today is Family day - a provincial holiday here in Alberta. The ironic thing is I dont have mine - Mom's working, and Sam is with her mother. I just tried phoning them, but Sam was in the shower as they had just got back in the door from swimming. I've been thinking a lot about relationships. The fact is, much of our identity is tied up in our relationships to others - we define ourselves as someone's child, or someone's spouse, or what have you. And whether I want mine to or not, they will all change as my gender changes.

There was a little girl who happened to look like a little boy. His parents didn't knew any better, so they gave her a boy name, and took her home, and raised her as a boy. Eventually, people would have figured out something was up with her, but just at the point where she was starting to figure it out herself, something horrible happened to her.

I'm having trouble controlling my emotions at the moment. one minute I'm depressed, the next I'm angry, the next giggly - just like a teen girl. For someone like me who normally doesnt have a lot of filter between "feeling" and "doing", its at least a good exercise in using the one thing I have that a teen girl doesnt - a lifetime of experience to damper the extremes. Keep cheering me on, okay?

Just got back from picking up my daughter, and something interesting happened. There is a boy who for the last while has called me "smiley" whenever he's seen me at the school, and somehow, he's now got other kids doing it too. (I blush like crazy when he does it, I have no idea why). Then the ball dropped. As I was leaving with Sam, I heard him ask, "Is that a woman's coat?" So I guess I'm not as stealth as I thought, and if a kid notices, I'm sure Sam's teacher has noticed too. Oh well, as long as nobody makes a fuss about it....