I would like to talk about my last two pieces together, because the one led to the other. I started working on "tears of the phoenix" because I was struggling with flashes of attraction toward men, and it was scaring me. As I had jean say, I felt like i was losing the last part of my male self, and i didnt want to. This struggle formed the first half of the story. At the same time, I was struggling with grief over Misty's "Out of the Ashes". I really hurt when Dolores died, and i wanted to say something about how her death affected me.

I have something that I would like to be able to share, but I am leery of actually sharing it since it might pain some others here. Basically, I had a flashback last night, and instead of being just a victim, i thought about writing it down. The result is a nearly full description of one of the last times i was assaulted. Trouble is, too many people here have had rapes happen to them, and i have no desire to bring those memories back for them unless they can handle them. Any ideas?

A few days ago, I had causally mentioned to my mom that next time i had some cash, I wanted to look for a ladies coat. To my surprise and delight, today she took me shopping. Even though i went in male clothes, it felt like a genuine mother-daughter shopping trip. We found a nice coat that fit me, and I feel much better for it. Do I have the best mom, or what?

I went to an online chat (IMVU, if you care to know the name) and decided to visit a christian room and get some prayer support. Unfortunately, one of the people there noticed my avatar was wearing a TG symbol, and asked me about it. I tried to explain my history, how I felt. Her response was to tell me i needed deliverance from a demon. I told her how i had prayed about this since i became a christian, prayed, begged, cried. How i even tried to kill myself, and even asked God to kill me rather than let me offend Him. How i finally reached the point where i had to accept what I am.

When I first started this journal, the only real rule I set for myself was that I was going to be as honest as I possibly could, and I think i am succeeding.

Mostly, it really hasnt been much of a struggle, other than the difficulty of finding the best words.

I have talked about good times, bad times, and all the times in between, and most of the time, I have felt no hesitation.
Indeed, most of the time, i have been anxious to share.

But today, I find myself struggling to write this.

I want to just babble on about my writing, or whatever.

I may have mentioned before, I am not a fun person to sleep with. Between night terrors, snoring, and the simple fact i dont sit still, even when i am dreaming. But last night was a topper. I remember having a dream of going downstairs, picking up a pile of presents, and returning to my room. Along the way i had turned off my alarm. Once the dream was over, i woke, and it had felt so real i actually got up to check if i had brought stuff up. I hadnt, but I had turned off my alarm, and there were signs i really had left my bed while asleep. It's a little frightening, to be honest. Ah, well.

Had another series of flashbacks yesterday, and thank God for the friends who chatted with me online as i worked my way through it. I am finding all kinds of ironies in my struggles, both with the assaults and with my gender. For example, I realized that i owed to my abusive step-father a thanks, because by forcing us to move when he did, I was able to escape from the monster who was using me. And despite his other flaws, he never touched me sexually, which gave me some opportunity to heal enough to function.

Well, it has been an interesting day, to say the least. I am still fighting a bit of a cold, so I chose to stay home and not go to church today. I went on a chat site to talk to some friends about my depression, and while we were talking, I started having a pretty strong flashback. One of my friends there has my phone number, so she called me, and listened while i cried to the point i could barely talk. Feeling slightly better after i unloaded, i fidgeted, played video games, and made lunch. Then, some remnant of my flashback nagged at me, and i started to write.

Well, it seems like i am fighting the first major depression since i started taking my medication. It started with a sleepless night last night, and pretty much has gone downhill from there. hopefully, i can ride it out, and find a way to hold on until it ends.

I would like to take a moment and talk about the origins of the story i published called "A Cop's Story" It stared during a horrible moment, but by the time I finished writing it, it had become a sign of my progress. You see, I started having a flashback at work, and it was terrible, and i wasn't in a position to do much at that moment. But, instead of just being a victim, I responded by writing, and before long, i had mastered the flashback, and i had crafted (what i think) is a pretty good little story too.

Well, I posted my latest story, and I am waiting to see how well it is received. I am not going to beg here for kudos or comments unless they are deserved, but weather or not the story continues will depend somewhat on the response. I happen to think it was funny, but I am the AUTHOR for heaven's sake, so what do I know? I hope it lightened at least a few people's day, but we will have to see.

Well, today is the transgender day of remembrance. Have things got better? Probably. I mean, I have gone around Edmonton in a skirt and not drawn any serious negative reaction. And there is a bill in our Parliament that will finally put an end to discrimination based on gender expression or identity, assuming it ever comes up to a vote and passes. But things are less good in other places, and even here, I risk the loss of my child if I move forward. (Even if the ex would be wrong legally, it would be up to me to go to a court to get access, and I simply cannot afford it).

I have discovered a side effect of my little breakthrough the other day. I seem to have lost any protection i had from my emotions and they are in overdrive. I am hyper-cycling, with my ups and downs going like a roller coaster traveling at about Mach 10. I am going from stratospheric highs to crying from utter depths of depression in less time than it took to write this paragraph. I am not sure exactly what I can do about this, except ride it out and hope things slow down soon.

Well, first i want to thank everyone who offered support to me by leaving a comment on my last entry. Each one of you helped me greatly, and I thank and bless you. But I also have some big news to share. First, I have to relate a story, and forgive me if I have told it before: When I was 16 years old, I saw the movie "The Wall", and I became fascinated with the concept of having a wall. I then did something a little odd - I prayed to God to have my walls come down. Well, be careful what you pray for, to mangle a quote. I discovered that I didn't just have walls to keep others out.

Well, for all my anxiety before I went out today, things could not have gone better. I got dressed up, I stopped for gas, I went to the coffee shop, and nobody blinked. Then I met my friend, and she was lovely, gracious, and we hit it off like two old girl friends catching up. We chatted, laughed, and gossiped for more than two hours. Best of all, she said she could definitely see me as female, which made my day, week, year, and possibly century. Wow! I can't wait to do it again!