Well, I just got a call from the endocrinologist, and my testosterone levels have gone back up to 19, so he's increased my estrogen dose to 3 mg twice a day, and he's also sent a prescription for progesterone to my pharmacy, and I'll hopefully be able to get it in a couple of days.

Neat, huh?

Well, I was going to share about my trip to the endo doc in a skirt, but I made the mistake on my way home of turning on the radio in time to hear the sentence for Graham James for raping two kids while their hockey coach. Two years. Two years for destroying two lives. Two years for humiliating two teen boys into being his sex toys. I'm going to scream and cry into a pillow now.

I was talking to a friend at work, and mentioned my age, and then it hit me. I might have lived 45 years on this planet, but in some ways, I'm actually only about two. It was about two years ago that I went to my rape therapy dressed, which has led me to starting a transition. It would explain why everything feels so fresh, so new to me.

Maybe someday, I'll take things like having my hair long or developing boobs, or being accepted as a woman for granted, but it hasnt happened yet, and I kinda hope it never does.

One of the biggest improvements I've noticed is with my hair. Not only is it softer than its been in years (feels like silk to the touch, no lie), but its now long enough that I can actually feel it move. I'll be walking along, and I can feel my hair bounce, and it feels so feminine and just ... right. Like something I hadnt even realized was missing has been returned to me.

Now, if I could only do something about the bald spot in the front....

That's what my daughter just said about my hormones.

Can I cry now?

I had a good session, with one of the things I did was have an exercise where I pretended to punch my rapist, taking time to see how my body moved, what muscles I would use, and so on. Being given permission to be angry at him in a safe place felt pretty good.

I've been thinking about the surgery, and I realized a sad truth. Even if somehow I could magically afford it, who would be with me through it? And after it was done, what in my life would actually change? Plus, I might end up losing my daughter if I were to go further than I have, which would not be worth it.

Ah, well, just another day.

Well, I've written a little epilog to "Six Forty-Five", and I'll publish it tomorrow. With that little piece of business out of the way, I might be able to get back to focusing on my "Quest" story. Hopefully, it will be a bit more popular ....

Meanwhile, I feel a lot better for having written this, so at least in that way it hasn't gone to waste.

Well, I've managed to catch a cold. Blech.

I had not intended this when I started writing "Six Forty-five", but its a lot closer to what I was like at that age than I care to think about. I was a pretty odd kid, yeah?

Reading Karen Bishop's story has had me thinking about memory - especially my memories of my abuse. For most of my life, I had little conscious recall of what happened to me, mostly it was something that I only had flashes and nightmares about. Now, I can remember, and I think that's better, but its been a painful journey, and I'm not done yet.

Ah, well.

I'm really struggling with the voice of self-criticism. Every mistake I make lately is being magnified to something terminal, and I dont know how to turn off this voice.

Help?

During my little "TG-PMS" time, someone said to me my writing comes across as very female. I'm wondering, in what way? What makes a woman writer different from a male one?

I'm not depressed, exactly, but I feel like ... I dont know. All my life I was stuck in boy world, with my face pressed against the glass looking in at girl world, so envious I was salivating like a starving person watching people enjoying a five star meal. Now, I at last found an entrance into that land, but I wonder if I will ever be seen as anything but an immigrant. Will I ever .... just fit in?

Well, its a blizzard out there ! Going to make the trip to work tonight interesting. I hope Mom got to work and will be able to get home safely.

On the radio today, I listened as an announcer read out the transcript of a statement made during the sentencing hearing for Graham James by NHL star Theo Fleury. For those who dont know, James raped Fleury repeatedly while acting as his hockey coach when Fleury was a teen.

I know I shouldn't have listened, but I just had to hear what he said. Even if it hurt, because in some ways, he was speaking for me too, since I will never be able to do so in a court of law about my rapist.

But, dont worry. I'm okay.

I hope.