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.

And tales thereof!

So last night, I had a rough dream, and I'm still struggling to shake it.

In the dream, I was at university, and I was being bullied by this guy. So I followed him to his home, and coldly threatened his family if he didn't leave me alone.

Now if I had just lost my temper and maybe hit him, it would be bad, but somehow this calculated anger was much worse.

And like I said, I haven't been able to shake the dream all day, maybe in part because I'm in the depressed end of my bipolar cycle.

Anyway, I'm looking for huggles, if anybody has some to spare.

is certainly living up to the hype so far!

I've got a meeting next week with a Psychiatrist and I am very afraid. I'm pretty sure that she will try to get me back on Psychotropic Medications again and the prospect is chilling to me. From about 2002 until 2007 I was on drugs that really messed me up and I believe caused me to lapse into Suicidal Ideation several times. In my opinion Psychatric folk are egotistical and can act without good reason.

I had an idea about my bipolar condition.

I think it is kind of the foundation for my other issues.

What I mean by that is that if for example I'm struggling with PTSD, whether I'm manic or depressed at the time will affect what symptoms I will have, and what strategies might help me get through it.

I think that means that I am going to have to try and be aware of where I am on my bipolar cycle whenever another issue is present, or I may not be as successful in coping.

Still got lots of work to do, I guess.

Today, I found a fairly large scratch on my lower right leg, and as occasionally if not often happens, I have no idea how it happened.

I feel like maybe I should use the technique lepers use - Visual Survey of Extremities - in case I had seriously hurt myself without knowing.

I honestly don't know what else to do.

I finally got my "Titanium Eternity Collar", and I love it! My only advice would be is to order extra keys for it because it is a 1.5mm set screw and hex wrench. I lost the screw getting it on and was fortunate enough to find it. It is on now and I hope to go to a local Hardware store to get more of them and allen wrenches. Not sure, but I think it is on to stay until I get the spares OR if I take it off, it will stay off until I get them. This is all part of my unashamed, blatant penchant for mild BDSM.

for days - i'm sure we are just hours from announcing a drought!

Just came back from a short break with my mother. She is 85 now and has just lost her partner. I want to spend as much time with her as I can.

I never got much "Leeanna" time, as one of my sons stayed for a few nights. So last night I got a chance to try out a wig that my mother helped me pick. Long gone are the days my own hair sufficed. The dreaded testosterone has thinned my own hair too much to convince anyone.

She insisted it had to have a fringe. I think she was right.

There's a few more weeks before my NHS complaint is due to be resolved, but I'm beginning to have doubts that it will be resolved - at least in one of the scenarios that I would accept. I won't speculate further but will let everyone know what their answer is when I receive it.

Unsurprisingly I have heard nothing from my GP but I was called to the local general hospital for a mammogram, confirmation that my gender marker has been changed. The all-clear letter arrived a few days ago; it wasn't a definite as there's breast cancer in the family.