I've been told by some people that I should write a book, apparently these people believe that I have worthwhile experiences to share that might be of benefit to someone somewhere. I'm not too sure of that, I'm even less sure of that if I were to let those same people who prodded me onward know the exact light in which they would be portrayed that they would still insist I move forward.

All names and places have been changed to protect the innocent and guilty alike... Well okay perhaps not all of them, I really don't think I'm creative enough for that...

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I wish that I could say that I have this great literary opening to start out with, something akin to, call me Ishmael. Even something like, it was a dark and stormy night in late April many years ago when a young woman cried out in pain as the thunder echoed ominously overhead while lightning lit up the skies for miles in trepidation on what was soon likely to come.

But I have none of that, I'm not some literary genius in disguise, I'm just a guy who used to dabble in Ranma fan fiction when his life had fallen apart to keep sane. At least I think I'm a guy. I truly don't know, I don't think I ever really knew. At times I'd like to say that I'm a girl and always have been but I'm not sure if reality agrees with me. I've read somewhere recently that if I were truly trapped in the wrong body that I would know. But how am I supposed to know something like that? I've never been one for sharing serious emotions, it's just not something my family does and by proxy myself.

I think my main problem is just that there are so many extenuating circumstances throughout my life that make that kind of judgment call nearly impossible. How can someone tell when their life has been one craptastic event after another. What is the difference between just wanting a escape from the trappings of such a life and escapism from being unable to fit in, Is it even escapism though?

I once was kicked out of gym class for not wanting to shower in front of other guys but then again the coach had spent some time on my first day of gym trying to get me on the basketball team in which I was not interested in. there had been too many things going on and more importantly I had neither the time nor the desire nor even the skill to compete with other schools, I was b team material at best in a large school but it had been a small school so I was starter material.

It seems kind of odd for me to open with that sort of tidbit I know and it really doesn't say much about me other than the fact that I didn't really care for sports or showering in front of others. It's definitely not a smoking gun leading to self realization.

If there was one thing in the world that I would want over anything and everything else, it would be to feel loved, to feel like I belong, to feel good about myself... if I were to be allowed a second wish it would be to have a small family of my own. I realize that they might not necessarily be wishes but to me desires and wishes are equally unattainable, right up there with happiness.

Perhaps that view is a bit on the pessimistic side, honestly I'd have to check the dictionary. I can be a bit lazy at times, it's one of those flaws I tack onto myself in the hopes to stabilize my egotistical self righteous side,

I'm no bible thumper, I'm not without belief, I just don't agree with most religion and prefer to keep my beliefs to myself. On those few occasions where someone eggs me on enough to talk about religion I'll just spout off that I believe that god and Lucifer are actually women and they are having a nearly eternal lovers quarrel. That usually sends people off on a unrelated tangent which at times can be amusing to watch. Though I am surprised by the fact that with how many times the bible has been rewritten that no one has considered rewriting it to a more modern Lbgt theme. I think it'd be easy, just make Lilith and eve the first two humans and Adam created afterward, it would just write itself and then the next time someone says god hates fags someone could just hand them a new bible with a post it note telling them to get with the times stuck on the cover.

Anyhow it seems that I have gone off on a bit of a tangent, I should be starting this literary farce now. The only problem, I still don't have a beginning.

Perhaps I can procrastinate a bit more by not dazzling you with relevant facts and observations about myself. I suppose I can start by saying that I'm old, not too old but not too young either, mid to late thirties but at first glance perhaps early thirties. I'm tall but not overly so, 6'1 and ¾ inches to be exact. I'm heavy but not really, 220 lbs, I do work out but my job keeps me stationary for long periods of time. So my legs are fairly solid, arms are toned somewhat muscular but I have a bit of an issue with my core. One might say I'm good looking if I were to consider my own mothers opinion, honestly though who considers that though? I have a decent job that while pays well enough it has the down side of ensuring that I'm never home and seldom in the same state in which I reside.

Oh I suppose I could also mention that I am a closet cross-dresser, very deep in the closet up until recently. I wouldn't even dress in front of a pet, well fish were okay but a cat or a dog... forget about it... that said.. I've told seven people so far this past month or so. It's not like I am going around announcing it, though with the last two people and in writing this drable I might as well be. The problem is though that it might be more than that and that worries me on a fundamental level. If it were just cross-dressing I wouldn't be too concerned but for a long time I've known that just dressing hasn't been enough, that I need more. The only relaxation time I get is when i'm wearing women s clothes. Heck to write this I needed to slip on a sports bra and yoga shorts, but I'm going to do cardio in the morning and it is super comfy...

I'm a Trekkie at heart and I believe that the good of the many outweigh the good of the few or the one. It's a belief that's been there to comfort me throughout my entire life and as much as what I'd like to be able to cast it aside I know realistically that I can't. It's too engrained into every fiber of my being and I know nearly without a doubt that whatever is good for me will have dire consequences to those of whom I care about and how they relate to me.

So I guess the question still remains on how do I start. How can I start something without a clear concise ending in mind, of course I suppose I should or could mention that I never actually finished any of my fan fiction stories I've written perhaps 12 that are online and a few that were lost to various hard drive crashes and some that never got over 3000 words. Those had endings in mind though and now they sit incomplete online, forgotten and unreviewed for several years, most filled with depressing angst and alcoholic flights of fancy as I tried to escape the dreary depressing reality of my own life. Though to be honest there are a few that are just completely hilarious but I needed a clear head and positive thoughts to keep those going and those are things that have always been in short supply.

Perhaps it might help things along if I give up some brief background information. I was abused as a child, my older sister would say heavily so, I'd say not quite. Things happened and sometimes things escalated because I could not sit idly by and watch someone else beat on someone weaker than them. Of course I was weaker and smaller than both individuals most of the time so in hindsight perhaps it's a bit ridiculous.

I've been tossed through walls, beaten with a two by four, a metal bat, slugged and kicked into unconsciousness. I joke that I've had more concussions than Mohamed Ali, but it's not a bad estimation. I've been chain smoking since 15 and drinking since 16. I spent time in a peacetime army and served my contract out after mangling both shoulders in a training accident leaving me with a bigger alcohol problem and a prescription narcotic problem. I've been to college a few times but always drop out due to depression. A few years back a piece of sheet metal separated my knee from my knee cap that slowly and very painfully over time stole my ability to walk over the span of five years.

I've tried to end my life 3 times. At the tender age of nine I jumped right in front of a train but was saved by the air pressure shoving me to the side. At seventeen after being diagnosed with ptsd and asking if I could have some time to sort things out at behest of one of my many doctors I was beaten so badly for the audacity of wanting to get better that out of spite I took a cheep Swiss army knife knock off and tried using the seraded blade to saw down my forearm fortunately the knife broke in three pieces that night. The third time I took a handful of sleeping pills, muscle relaxers and pain killers, chased them down with a healthy dose of lots of alcohol and took off in my mustang with the intent to drive myself into a tree on dead mans curve after a visit to the doctor revealed that I would lose the use of both arms by the time I turned thirty. And when I couldn't walk all I thought about was blowing my brains out with a gun but didn't, not because I didn't have access but rather I would not use someone else gun to do it.

Yet that's just the negative side of things. I never just sat back and took things, I fought tooth and nail at times. I stood up for myself, if I took a beating it was because the alternative would have been worse for someone else. I did my best to over come things, I no longer freeze up when I see someone spanking a child. No more flash backs... I've been on my own since before I graduated high school and have always found a means to get by. I've kicked the pill habit and never looked back. I don't drink anymore, well seldom... After reconstructive surgery on my knee I had physical therapy five times a week four hours a day for six months where I dropped 100 lbs. And I am well past thirty despite my youthful appearance and still have use of both my arms, though I am in constant physical pain and it is worsening I have hope that tomorrow will be better.

And realistically as long as there is hope I will always have enough to keep going. I might falter but I will overcome.. hopefully... but if I don't at first, I know that I can still pick myself up and try again.

Now if only I could apply that to all aspects of my life, though I suppose baby steps... baby steps...

I think though now I have a good grasp of a beginning. I had a conversation with my mother not too long ago where I tried to voice my own uncertainty at her and she replied that I just needed to let the past go, that dwelling on it would serve no purpose. I'm paraphrasing but that was the jist of it, good advise though, and if it had come from someone other than her I might have considered it. The problem though is that she has a vested interest in keeping the past buried as it might remind her of things that she'd rather conveniently forget.

Namely the reality we created for ourselves by ourselves...

To be continued....