CHAPTER SEVEN
The End of Moments

As the morning woke me, I knew right away that something was wrong. Without moving my body, I felt the disconnection once again. I threw aside my sheets and looked down at my MALE body.

"NO!" I protested; my wish had not been fulfilled after all. It had been some type of bloody dream. DAMN IT!

I ripped apart the white hospital pyjama top, the buttons flying around the bed and floor. Staring at my chest, I saw no large, firm, red nipples that should have lain atop soft breasts. I reached down and lifted the elastic of the pyjama bottoms and shuttered as the conclusive evidence lay between my legs. I screamed as I punched the mattress.

There was a knock at the door. Releasing the elastic and looking up from my disappointment, I saw Sara staring through the window. I nodded to her, and she walked in; she looked happy yet saddened as well. "Mattie?"

I nodded, suddenly knowing then that the whole experience had been more than my own dream. "You remember?" I asked, hoping that she understood what I was asking.

"Yes. It was wonderful. You were wonderful. The entire experience has helped me so much. I feel centred and able to look past the grief as I feel I have accepted it. It feels so great back in my body, feeling at ease for the first time." She paused, looking worried at me. "But you? Will you be okay?"

How could be in my body have done this for her? Being male should make dealing with loss any easier. All I had ever done is be able to do is..., and then it clicked. It wasn't in my body that had done it but my mind. My way of seeing my problems, compartmentalising them up, and even pushing them away was something I had trained all my life to do. And while now things were out of control, and I was finding it hard to move items into the overflowing boxes in my head, for Sara, that had been something she probably had never been able to do.

The gift I had given her, the one that now allowed her to push back the intractable pain she felt at her boyfriend's death, was me learning that I couldn't control all of my emotions, so it was sometimes easier to hide them away.

But when I thought about what she had gotten out of the whole experience, I too realised I had been given a gift. For I, for as brief as it had been, had my wish answered.

I finally knew, with more certainty than ever before, deep inside me, that being a man was wrong. That somehow Mother Nature had mucked up and had placed my mind and soul into the wrong body. At that one moment of madness, there was no confusion. I was Malisa, and inside I was a woman. I AM a woman! All I had to do was change the body to connect to the soul. Easier said than done, but it WOULD be done.

I finally nodded, and Sara and I spoke. I explained that while it was a great skill to push things into boxes, she also needed to face them, answer them, and resolve them, else she would be back in this place like I was now. And at the same time, she explained that being a woman wasn't all roses and chocolates and that there was so much I would have to learn and accept in my journey.

We both didn't know what happened, and even to her, the whole experience had felt like some extraordinary dream, but one that she believed she needed to have, to help her, but also help me.

It was funny, but sitting there, me almost naked, and her still in that nightie I remember putting on last night and being so comfortable in, there was no sexual attraction or desires like the dream we had shared. It was like we were back to being friends, though now with a deeper connection than any I had ever had before with anyone else.

We tried to explain how the dream might have happened, even if it had been a dream or real, but there was just no way of knowing. We had shared something outside our understanding, and the most we could just comprehend was that it had been for our benefit.

After our brief talk, Sara had left to request that she wanted to go back home. The nurses were more than happy to get the doctor to check her over, and that day the doctor had no problems and discharged her.

I still had to wait for Christopher to be able to talk to me. However, I felt that I would be able to fight now. I knew who I was, which was fifty percent of my battle won. The rest could never be won inside the mental ward of a hospital.

It didn't take long for the nurses to finally get sick of my moaning to see Christopher, and finally (only taking three hours of moaning), I got my meeting.

Christopher escorted me to his private office, where we talked about feelings. I had told him about the dream and how Sara and I felt so strong after it. He smiled, telling me that strange things sometimes happen, but it would have been my subconscious that was sorting out my emotions for me. Sometimes, the dream world can sort out things for us that we can't do by ourselves. Though he did admit, Sara's recovery was already underway many days before my arrival. Still, the sudden shift in her feelings and confidence was only after she and I had talked, so he felt that maybe I had been good for her also.

I didn't know. I felt that it had been more than just a dream. Something about that place had fulfilled Sara's wish and mine. She had wished to get help removing the pain of her boyfriend's death, and I had wanted to be a female and understand what was right for me. Now I knew.

The rest of the interview with Christopher had been about me getting out of the ward. Christopher had spoken to the doctor and told him that I should go home in the afternoon. The doctor agreed, and Christopher called my friends to pick me up. He had arranged for them to pick me up at about five in the evening.

After the meeting with Christopher, I had walked back to my room. Still thinking about the strange night I'd had. I wrote it all down, again trying to catch my feelings and emotions as they had happened.

That had taken me to around 3.00pm. I had heard during that time, Sara would be going home. I didn't really want to say farewell. So, I had walked out of my bedroom and headed for the locked side exits of the ward.

Sara and I had not spoken since the morning. It was like we had shared something that was beyond words. I couldn't say if it had been a shared dream or if it had been real. However, the impact of the whole experience had changed Sara's life and my own. It had given me the insight I needed, so I knew where I was to head.

I stood, looking out one of the side exits to the ward, watching as Sara walked out of the hospital ward towards a car parked in the lot. An older looking man (her father?) followed close behind her. As I stood there, I couldn't help but feel that she was escaping with my body. Something I knew I should have, something I knew I required.

The man opened the door on the passenger's side, and Sara paused before getting in. She stopped, turned around and faced me. Our eyes touched briefly, and Sara mouthed silently, "Thank you."

I smiled and felt a slight tear welling in my eye. This time, I wouldn't cry in pain but with joy. I'd learned so much, and I had been able to help another too. "Ditto," I whispered back.

She turned back to the car and got inside. I smiled and turned myself. I heard the car start behind me as I had walked back into the hallway. I had tears falling down my eyes by the time I got back to my room, where I packed to leave as well.

Well, Diary, that is about where I will finish. The rest isn't worth really writing, as all I did until five o'clock was write down what had happened. My friends were collected me dead at five o'clock, and they brought me back home. Then I started writing everything down inside you. Shit, I have just looked at the time, and I'm shocked to note I have been writing for over eight hours. It is now 1am.

I'm just thinking about some of the factors that have affected my life over the last three days. If this was to ever correctly change my life, I have to accept that I am prone to breakdowns like everyone else.

I have problems, and I can't just push the issues aside forever. I told Sara in our final conversation, "Pushing a problem away is good. As long as you only put it off for a little while. You can't try to hide from it forever." I should listen to my own words.

This life I will have now has to account for my inner self. It has to account for whom I really am. It has to account for the fact that I am a woman inside, and I can't deny that or try and box it away.

For me, I can not be genderless! That isn't who I am. I have to be one or the other. I now know that inside I am female. Even though I am not a typical female, my biological makeup doesn't match the 'normal' female physique. Neither the less, I am female. I feel that my life was created for womanhood, for I am a WOMAN.

Now all I have to do is live with it, deal with it, and work with it. The most significant transformation I shall ever undertake. But, Diary, it is one I know now that I am destined to take.

>End of Journey Entry.