So discouraged

I'm about as discouraged as I have been in a very long time, and it is arguable that most of what is stressing me is my own damn fault. There are a couple stories on here that are extremely moving to me, spot on regarding the issues that face post op, out T folk. Recently, my own T life has been more pleasant than at first, but these stories cause me to remember the really painful years.

Then some poor soul, a Veteran, decided he was mad at people who tried to help him, and killed a bunch of them. I am sure that will help! I am sorry for the women he killed. I am also sorry for those of us who will now face increased scrutiny when we go to the VA, despite the fact that since leaving the Military, most of us have never committed a single violent act. I won't even write about what I am concerned their response toward us will be...

There is an area that has been a bulwark in my life and is very responsible for helping me to not do myself in. I won't mention them specifically. A couple months ago, they apologized to me for not being more supportive to me when I first got sick. I never expected to live long enough to hear that. The "other" organization I had been a member of was very upset and accused me of dire evil, as I had feared they would. I learned as much as if I had taken a College course in Abnormal Psychology, the consequences of conditioning and brainwashing; how to leave a cult. Now I view all such organizations with a jaundiced eye. If you sus out what I have been talking about for the last paragraph, please don't lecture me and make rude comments? I hurt enough.

As you all know, families can be right basterds and mine is no exception; violating every principle I tried to teach them as they grew up. After 13 years I had almost completely resigned myself to the idea that they were gone and not coming back. THEN, out of the blue, my daughter texted me and wanted to have dinner. Defying all logic, I agreed and stupidly built up hopes that this would lead to more good things. Of course it did not and the aftermath feels worse than if she'd simply left me alone.

Lastly, I've been indulging in a lot of "The Hair of the Dog", and now I am depressed, and feel right stupid for doing it. I'm almost out of it and for my own good do not plan to refill the keg for a long while. I deserve to get my pink panties bloodied with a quirt, but it is doubtful that anyone will administer a proper beating to me.

I hope that I have not bored anyone.

Gwen