so I had a pretty productive day.

Mike and I weeded the front lawn, then I trimmed the side, then I watched as my TV was removed (along some other trash), then I did a bottle run.

I know that doesn't sound like much, but I feel good about the day, and that doesn't happen all that often.

well, it turns out its possible that my sleep apnea isn't the only reason I thrash around in my sleep
.
Last night, I awoke to find I had tossed my pillows everywhere and pulled my CPAP machine off the nightstand.

But It had kept running and I never lost the connection between the mask and the machine, so I was getting air while this was happening.

Don't ask me what's going on, I really have no clue.

the magazine with my story is up!

https://www.lemonspouting.com/post/under-the-stars

I confirmed my worst fears.

I phoned the Calgary law library about what happened to my rapist, and there is no record of a conviction.

Now, it could be there was a publication ban to protect his victims, or a jury trial, in which case no written statement about the conviction would be on record

but he was able to testify in a civil suit in 1999, so unlikely he'd been charged before then.

and considering he was raping me from about 1973 to 1975, its unlikely my name would have been brought up in any case against him.

so today, I went and got x-rays on my knees, and the tech asked me if I still had my periods.

even after so long into my transition, I still appreciate moments of validation like this.

After decades of abuse and neglect, my body is finally getting back at me by falling apart.

Its somehow ironic that it turns out the abuser who has done the most damage to me -- was me, all along.

sighs . . .

So somehow, I missed my 12th anniversary of being on this site.

can I still get some anniversary huggles?

if anybody wants to watch my speech, I have it on google drive, so just pm me an email account and I can share it.

Well, it looks like my Big Closet group on Facebook attracted the attention of somebody, and now its been shut down,

sorry everybody.

Okay I had a really worrying moment. I was laying on my couch, watching TV, and decided that once the program I was watching was over I'd go for a walk.

Trying to think of what I would need, I realized I had no idea if I was wearing socks or not,

I had to physically check to confirm I was barefoot.

This concerns me. A lot.

So I got some adulting done. Did a bottle run, vacuumed out the inside of my car, filled up on gas, got my rent out of the bank, and bought my mom a small container of ice cream.

All while feeling like "meh" and fighting PTSD

so yay me, I guess.

I think I've become scared to go to bed.

my latest adventures - which included pulling a muscle in my back trying to keep myself from falling off my bed - has left me with an extreme reluctance to go sleep on my bed.

As if I didn't have enough issues to deal with . . .

Been doing a bit of self care stuff the last couple of days. I got a brace for my knee, and got my hearing checked, which showed my hearing has declined, but probably not enough to be worth buying hearing aids.

I'm also still really struggling, so hugs appreciated.

I got my first COVID vaccination shot!

Yayyyyy!

Now, if they could only make a vaccine for girl germs I'd be finally safe from Jaci!

Okay so yesterday Mike and Carol bought a new dining room set, and in order to get it in the house, we used a device called a "forearm forklift" you put these straps under the table, and then the other end around your forearms, and lift it in.

I was less helpful than I wish I could have been, a consequence of my non-athletic lifestyle, but we did manage to get it in,

But last night, I noticed I had a line of bruises across my forearms and for a second couldn't figure out how I had gotten them until I remembered the forearm forklift.

I've given up fighting unwinnable battles.

The power held by the unscrupulous, the bullies, the downright evil will not fall to any action of mine. I've spent too much of my life tilting at windmills and its getting harder and harder to get off the mat.

I am just too tired of spending my spoons with no hope of making any difference.

new story up: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/89447/conviction

so I got a sleep study done last night, which basically forced me to have a shower today.

Showers are my bane. but personal care in general is always a struggle.

The shower thing is a legacy of my stepfather, I suspect the other stuff is a mix of causes.

Just got to keep fighting, I guess

so Shylo At AffirmingMinistries has asked me to be a speaker at a livestream for International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia & Biphobia. It will be held on May 17th, 2021 from 2:30-3:30pm.

My talk will be livestreamed on both the Affirming Ministries and Robertson-Wesley United Church Facebook Pages. The stream will be recorded and posted on additional social media for both ministries such as Instagram and Youtube.

I'm amazed and staggered to be considered for such a thing.

If you know my story, you probably know the only way I could find to survive my childhood was to disassociate. To withdraw deep within myself, become as much of an empty shell as I could.

Well, this morning I had the urge to do so again, as strongly as I have had in decades.

My best guess as to why is a combo of a massive PTSD response to a serious depressive spike, with a bit of dysphoria thrown in for good measure.

I'm hanging on, but boy could I use a break from being me . . .

So yesterday my new bed frame arrived, and with a little help from mom I was able to get it together, and throw the old frame out.

Not a difficult task perhaps, but considering my lack of stamina, my wonky leg, and my even more wonky brain, I feel like it counts as a reasonable adulting accomplishment

So I had a bit of a revelation thanks to my councilor yesterday. We had talked about my rapes a little, and how I used writing as a way to process them, and then we were talking about my stepfather and my councilor asked me if I had written any stories about my time with him.

I checked, and I have not.

Now, I'm no expert, but when a part of my life is so radioactive I cant even fictionalize it, something is up.

Oh boy, more slogging ahead, this is NOT gonna be fun . . .