The dreaded mirror shot

I wasn't going to post this as I don't really like having to take shots of myself in the mirror as I think they look pretty tacky and remind me of when I didn't look that presentable (don't think I am now but that just makes it worse).

Anyway, it's the only shot I have of me in the outfit from Saturday night and I at least want to remember what I was wearing.

The one and only pic of me from the party

I'm being rather lazy sending this to the blog instead of uploading it properly, hope it doesn't get too squashed.

Flying as Fiona

Well I must have just had so much on my mind on the way out and so much of a hangover on the way back but the whole thing of flying to/from Dublin completely in my new idenity was totally uneventful and free from any problems.

One thing that did happen on the way back was that I set off the metal detector and had to be frisked - not a big deal since everyone seemed to be setting this particular one off and, in the past I've been randomly selected for extra checked before.

However, I did discover why they have a female security officer; when they frisk women they actually do check for the underwire in the bra so it's certainly a little more intimate that the male version. I was a little tired and hungover so I must have seemed a bit odd to say the least. In fact I wondered if they wondered whether someone would go to the extremes of dressing up to get the full female 'security' experience!

Anyway, no problems and everyone seemed to use the appropriate pronouns and I was treated fairly normally.

One thing I did notice was that people in Dublin seem to have less of a problem with overtly staring out you! It did getting annoying after a while so I actually starred back at someone which probably freaked her out - I try NOT to do this as I prefer to not make people feel uncomfortable so they come away from any encounter with a positive view rather than being creeped out.

Will write more about the weekend when I'm more awake - have only got one pic of me in my party dress which is a little disappointing but I'll post that tomorrow anyway. Time to chill out and try and get some sleep.

Drunk again

Well, it is gone 3am and I'm back for the work Christmas party and I talked to some wonderful people and ate some nice food and drank alot of wine. So all in all a really good Christmas party.

But, I am back in my hotel room with tears streaming down my face - why? Well partly alcohol-induced I guess I just feel lonely. I have no-one to come back to, no-one to share Christmas with, no-one to who fancies me or who thinks I am special.

Hmm, I could go on but it's self-indulgent self-pity really and I'm sure no-one really wants to read that.

I think the only think worth mentioning is that, while I can generally can keep things together on a day-to-day basis there comes a point when everything just gets too much - I've reached and past that point. This year can't end soon enough, it has been too painful and it seems to be coming to a close with more thing going adly wrong than I had expected,

F***, sh** ,,, I really don't have the energy for more comment.

Waiting at the airport

Not very original title but very accurate! Sat waiting for my flight to Dublin which is delayed for about 15mins, hardly surprising given the pants weather! Anyway will try and get more (and better) pics over the party weekend - I'll try not to send them while drunk though!

Lasted two weeks ...

... before going insane!

I'm not good with anything medical or in the slightest bit dangerous so I've done pretty well to last two weeks before completely freaking out over a slight twinge in my leg (likely due to sitting rather uncomfortably or because the cold I've got has started wandering around my body) which I immediately self-diagnosed as DVT and started to inwardly panic.

Of course, part of me is still ever-so-slightly sane so decided to drink some red wine (thins the blood) rather than jump to conclusions and start phoning NHS direct. Yes, I know, probably not the right thing to do if this really was a DVT thing but I'm not always entirely rational.

Anyway, the red wine took affect pretty quickly so I'm not in the mood to reflect on all of the things that have been going on recently that really should be crying out for good rant/whinge/cry but which I've been holding a bay.

Hmmm, I was going to start listing things but I think I can only come up with one thing at the moment: Christmas. My 'plan', if that is the right word was to basically just spend Christmas day on my own (in the absence of any opportunity to spend it with family) maybe enjoy a bit of relaxation, Christmas TV, wine, feel sorry for myself a bit and maybe even get some much-needed exercise by going out for a quick cycle around.

Boxing Day I was kind of unsure about as I might have got to see my son but probably not. Still I didn't mind hanging around in case I did get to see him though I have an invite from a close friend to spend that day with her which is really nice and is what I'm likely to do (about time I did some traveling to see friends!).

New Year is sorted out - going to spend that in Manchester and, while I've not really thought about it much, it does seem like a fab idea and, on paper, a much better plan than anything else I've ever done for New Year recently - mainly because it's a plan and it's in advance of the day! Previous New Years have kind of just been randomly organised and while fun I'm sure both B and myself wondered if we should at least have tried to get something sorted sooner.

Anyway, my very close friend today invited me to spend Christmas day with her and her family which is such a sweet thing to do and I'm really honoured to be asked (and wonder why on earth anyone would want to invite an almost complete stranger to Christmas Day ... which makes it even more special to offer really).

Of course this got me thinking: Someone elses Mum & Dad, who have never met me, are willing to invite me to spend Christmas day with them,, yet my own parents aren't even prepared to contemplate me coming up to drop off their presents let alone inviting me to spend Christmas Day with them when they are fully aware that I am, quite understandably, not going to be able to spend it with, what was my own little family (I don't harbour any grudges against B for this, I really don't want to spoil her Christmas).

Admittedly I have said to a few people that I would feel a little uncomfortable having to spend Christmas with my parents but that is just an independence thing since it's been such a long time since I did that feel somewhat 'too old' for that sort of thing. But thinking about it, I think it would be nice to have at least been asked.

I know that my transition has come as a huge shock to my parents and I know it is unfair to expect them to deal with all of this so quickly and be able to welcome me back with open arms when they really can't comprehend what is going on. Equally I can't help feeling upset that the only offer of welcome on Christmas day is from someone elses Mum and Dad - it just seems wrong that this is the case. I maybe should be more angry and upset about it but I guess I'm just accepting how things are until I get drunk enough to really feel sorry for myself.

One more thing: as a final touch of irony the red wine on which I am currently getting drunk is called "¬Lost Sheep" - I thought that was pretty funny when I bought it but it's absolutely hilarious now.

Drivers Licence

I should first say that the whole change of name with the 'important' organisations (Credit Card :D) has actually been very easy and very fast. I think it took my passport only 2 weeks to come back and my drivers license seems to have been done within a week! Nationwide were equally speedy (once I could show them originals for deed poll and letter from my specialist).

There hasn't been a problem with getting my gender changed either, up until now that is.

I got my drivers licence back and was over-joyed to see the new name and picture and was just about to put the photocard in my purse when I thought I should check the codes on the front. And it was wrong. For reference it's the driver number that contains the gender code, the 2nd digit is 0 or 1 for male and 5 or 6 for female.

I guess it was just a typo or minor clerical error but a little upsetting nonetheless. I've written a, hopefully, nice letter and sent everything back to the DVLA, hopefully there should be no problems and they'll be able to get the licence back to me without it going walk-abouts in the Christmas post.

Hate Excel 2007!

Was going to have a minor whinge about the DVLA but I'll save that until later, want to rant about Excel 2007 because it's driving me insane!

Here's a list of the things that are REALLY p***ing me off at the moment:

1. When you copy something to the clipboard, merrily paste it into a sheet, then switch to another to carry on doing the same, it forgets what you had and you have to copy it again! WHY!
2. If you copy and entire column you have to insert using "Insert Copied Cells" (what would be wrong with an intelligent paste?) and then it forgets what you had copied when you try and do this again! WTF!
3. If you want to copy a sheet you have to select "Move or Copy ..." from the context menu and then select "Make a copy" and where you want it to be made! OpenOffice does exactly the same and it's just stupid!
4. What's the deal with all the buttons on the top, why can't I just have the menus I was quite happy with in Excel 2003!

ARRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHH!

Just really frustrating when software makes it so hard to do simple tasks!

Christmas time!

Just a quick post with a pic of the Christmas tree which, while cheap and not as nice as a real one, is still cheery and sparkly and looks fab when the lights are off. I've always loved sparkly lights and things.

Getting a bit repetitive

I do go through similar feelings every weekend I see my son and so apologies if this has been covered before (several times).

I just wanted to explain (again) why I'm doing this. I guess it doesn't make much sense why I would take a perfectly good life and smash it to bits. And in particular it is rather nonsensical given that I'm generally not a depressed or in any way stressed person who is so desperate to change that I've lost all reason.

I guess the only way I can explain is to say that I'm doing this because I feel I have to now rather than wait until things do get worse. I'm not irrationally obsessed with everything yet but I feel it is something that would happen sooner or later. I did think constantly about the changes that I am now starting, it's something that I just couldn't get out of my head.

So when I see my son and we do the sort of things that we use to, as a family, and then I see his Mum and things are going well and we're talking, I do wonder why I had to go and spoil everything. I don't dislike B at all, quite the opposite in fact, she is managing to be a single Mum, have more responsibility at work, and also get out and enjoy herself and have a life. She looks fabulous, she really does.

I thought at the beginning of the year that everything would be okay and that we'd stay together and just deal with all of this. That was naive and probably a bit lazy on my part. I'd like to say that I didn't start on this transition because of my love for B and our son. I think the truth is that I was just rather pathetic and scared and was just letting my life meander. I think this is one of the reasons I do so intensely dislike reminders of my previous life because I don't think I was a very good person, I was just there, not important and not worth anything.

Now that I have made hard decisions in my life I can at least have some pride and the fact that I am taking some responsibility in who and what I am. It would be nice if I could have done this while still keeping a family together but I don't think that was possible so I have to deal with that.

I, and more importantly, B and our son, have alot of support and I'm hopeful that, given time we will be a family again, though still apart but at least being able to be there for each other. Really, things are probably easier than for others in similar situations, though still harder than they should be and more than B expected or deserved.

Not sure if I've mentioned this before but I realised a while ago that you really can't help your feelings. You can try and make logical decisions and even try and ease how you feel inside but ultimately you can't change this. So that means I really do have to go through this transition but I will still miss having a home, family, and partner just as they probably miss having me.

Hurting People

I've always wanted to talk about, well, everything really. I like talking about things and I like telling family and friends about anything and everything and generally have always been willing to be open and honest. In particular I have always been close to my Mum and told her about most things that have happened in my life.

The problem is now, that alot of the things I'm saying probably hurt.

I guess this started when I first came out to B about my transness (it's like Loch Ness but better dressed - oh, I'm sooo sorry, I just couldn't resist that, another failing there, making a joke about serious things) and I did want to be open and share everything that was happening.

I'm not trying to claim that I was being particularly noble in wanting to be honest and open, like I say, I just like talking about things and like to kind of do a brain dump of everything to those that I am close to that are willing to listen.

Obviously achievements and humourous anecdotes about my trans life were not something that B wanted to hear (though in fairness she did tolerate and even joke about an awful lot). At the time I think I was a little naive and insensitive so I maybe didn't realise how much these topics upset her.

Now I essentially have the same problem with my Mum but it's much worse; I'm telling her things about how I am transitioning, my name change, my treatment, and my new friends. I want to be able to tell her everything.

I was just talking to her on the phone and just knew that talking about the estrogen patches and mentioning that what name to put in Christmas cards being problematic were topics that must have been making her cry inside even if she seemed to sound okay.

It's also been confirmed that, while my Mum has told most of the family about the separation, she has not said anything about the exact reasons nor my transition- which I knew would be the case and completely understand. But it's just the thought that I have already or will eventually upset alot of people and cause them a great deal of hurt.

It wasn't mentioned (though it might have been before in discussions with my sister) but it's quite possible that I will not be able to see my grandmother again. Too be honest I was never really a frequent visitor but did drop in at least around Christmas. It's probably not a good idea for me to go near my home town at the moment because it's a small place and people talk and I still could be recognised.

So on the one hand I'm trying to build a new identity for myself and at the same time I'm building a wall between myself and my relations. I should say that, in fairness, I'm not making the effort to communicate with them so I'm not trying to blame anyone here, just state how things are and how they feel from my point of view.

I guess this is really just part of what can happen, there's really no right or wrong it just is a little sad that's all.

Censorship is just wrong (again)

I'm not sure I'll be able to express my opinion or reasons any more eloquently than last time but I'll have a try in light of the recent mess over a Wikipedia article containing an album cover featuring "the image of a naked prepubescent girl whose genitals are covered only by what appears to be a cracked camera lens".

This has been covered extensively over at The Register where they have an article on the latest update which is that the IWF have reversed their ban of of the Wikipedia article.

The reason that this caused such an uproar was that an entire article on Wikipedia was added to the IWF's blacklist (apparently for technical reasons they only block the entire article not just the image - hmm, you'd think a URL-based filter would be fine with such granularity). However Amazon and many others weren't affected even though they displayed the same image because they carried the album for sale.

In fact the album itself, even with it's admittedly controversial cover, is, apparently available for sale and it is not illegal (well, it might be given the crazy new laws but no-one has been prosecuted as yet for owning it as far as I know).

First off, I think there has to be some level of common sense to take into account 'intent'. The picture in question is in a sense 'artistic' and was not produced for the purposes of titilation or sexual turn on. Just because an image, subjectively, may look sexual, obscene or disturbing doesn't mean it was intended for the perverts and paedophiles.

Secondly, this image, and I guess many others were produced perfectly legally, mainly in this case because it came before any of the recent legislation but also, from a common sense point of view that the subject concerned was, apparently, the artists relation and was happy to pose and, according to reports, now has no regrets about doing so.

I think that, if you are doing something illegal in order to obtain an image then you stop that act, not the image itself. If the image was produced in a legal way that, however distastful it may be I don't think anyone has the right to censor it - it would probably be prudent for any publisher to indicate the nature of such content so people can steer clear of it but that's it.

I know this is a difficult idea to accept and I'm sure there are images that I would find pretty horrific and not want around but the problem with censorship is where you draw the line and it's very easy for your personal line to rule out alot of content that other people are fine with, e.g. I don't watch horror films, they scare me, and a great many images in them I find totally horrific, distasteful and frankly scarey.

In fact I watched (against my better judgement) the film The Last King of Scotland and there are some scenes in there of horrific mutilation that really did scare me. Others probably don't find these too distressing and I'm pretty sure that the director and film critics would, rightly, argue that they are essential to the film and the points it is trying to get across.

The recently discussed legislation concerning extreme porn images does make some allowances for film and art but tries to close those percieved loop-holes by making it an offence to isolate particular clips from a movie.

As many have pointed out censoring the internet is technically impossible due to the scale of the problem. I would argue that time and money would be better spent on preventing illegal activities that generate obscene content than supporting organisations, and government departments, that try and enforce restrictions after the fact.

Update: As a side note, a friend of mine mentioned that she was no longer able to see my blog in school. Previously she had taken the odd peek at lunchtimes to catch up on things but since I mentioned certain topics (I think it was probably the CAAN and extreme porn legislation) she has been unable to see it, yet is not preventing from reading other blogs on the same server. A blanket ban on blogs I can sort of understand but filtering seems more sinister - particularly when I've only written about the subject and not posted any content that is offensive or illegal.

And that's the really scarey thing about censorship: preventing discussion of a topic.

So?

Well, I've basically just typed everything I could think of from this weekend but really I've not said how I feel or what I'm thinking.

In reality, "I don't know" and "not alot" sums up the answers to those questions. I'm really quite tired from the whole weekend and just in a daze. I'm not thinking seriously about anything yet, it hasn't hit my yet.

I approached alot of this weekend in a very practical way to just get through it and that's how I'm continuing to work now - I think, after a few days I may have a better idea of how I really feel about the enormous change in my life that I have just made, even if it's not going to be really apparent what the affects are for some time.

Anyway, bedtime I think. Night x.

Sunday

It's getting a bit late now and I have a load of junk on my bed in a semi-unpacked state that I need to move before I can get the sleep I desperately need (the adrenalin is wearing off now and I just need to have some rest before work tomorrow). So this may be quick!

So, got up, breakfast (at the same Italian restaurant as Friday night - food good both times), then saying goodbye to Deborah at the tube. Really was a fun weekend, thank you so much to her for that.

Anyway, finished the packing, the ridiculously heavy, suitcase and thought I'd check the train times as I was meant to be getting to London Marylebone for ther 14:50 train to Birmingham and then change there (after walking to a different station) to get to Manchester. Anyway, I had to leave the hotel at 12:00 so I thought I'd look for an earlier train and try and avoid all the walking. Turns out there was one in about 20mins from Kings Cross!

Got to the station as quickly as I could with my arm feeling like it was being wrenched out of it's socket (really need to learn to travel lighter) and dashed to the platform after a bit of indecision about whether I should check with information if I could get on this train. There was a rail-type-looking person at the top of the platform so I asked him instead. Yes, my "Any Permitted" route ticket would be fine on this National Express train, no problem. Great!

Actually not great.

As it turns out my ticket wasn't valid on that route - apparently "Any Permitted" doesn't really convey enough information. It might be more accurate to say "Only the one we booked for you and don't dare try and make *your* life easier by getting inventive and trying to find the quickest way home".

The guard on the train explained that National Express wouldn't get any money for the ticket I had so it wasn't valid. But, I explained, I'd been told it was and that I wouldn't have got on the train if someone had said no. This didn't seem to sway the guard who pointed out that my ticket was cheaper than a valid one on this route and that I needed to pay £70! Said I wasn't going to do that so that meant he took my name, address, and other details and gave me an "unpaid fares notice" - their version of an ASBO I guess!

I have 7 days to appeal this which is exactly what I'm going to do. I don't mind paying (well maybe not £70) if I make a mistake but I did ask someone if my ticket was okay and was told it was, what else could I do!

Anyway, got to Doncaster where I needed to change train to get to Manchester. Ironically the guard on this train had no problem with my ticket at all - seemingly if you can magically get that far "Doncaster to Piccadilly" is part of the set of "Any Permitted" routes from London to Manchester!

Managed to get a fairly quick connection from Manchester to Chorley and then a swift taxi ride and I was finally back home.

Just in the interests of balance I'm clearly not a happy bunny when it comes to National Express and will post updates on here regarding this mess, but I think it's fair to give credit to companies when they do good things as well as when they are a pain in the neck.

So a few nice words about O2: I was due an upgrade today (contract runs out in March but as a long-standing customer I can a chance of a newer phone a few months early). I had whinged a bit and threatened to leave about a month ago (just impatient for a new phone), but in the end I was told I might get some discounts if I stayed. Too be honest I've never had any problems with O2 (or when they were called Cellnet) and it's probably a case of "better the devil you know".

Anyway, phoned today, explained all this and asked what they could do. So, by Wednesday (hopefully - postage permitting) I will have a nice new C902 (Titanium - James Bond style, think that theme will be getting deleted though) and 30% discount on my line rental. How happy am I :D

Saturday

Manic.

There may be better words to describe London but that's the one I would use, in fact I think it needs to be repeated for extra emphasis: manic, manic, MANIC!

Oxford Street was closed to traffic on Saturday so shoppers could wander up and down the roads, presumably so there could be more of them out and shopping to get us out of this financial mess we are in. Well I made a valiant attempt and Deborah and I spent some considerable time in Primark buying lots of stuff but in the end I had to retreat back to the hotel in the early afternoon because I was tired and hungover quite badly.

Mind you we did manage to have a nice lunch in the Food Garden at the top of Selfridges (I am such a snob it is untrue) which wasn't too unreasonable and had plenty of choice. I also managed to get the perfume I wanted (DKNY Delicious Night) as well as getting some gifts for my son and his mum.

Then I carried both mine and Deborah's bags back to the hotel so she could carry on shopping while I tried to sleep off feeling a bit under-the-weather!

Seemed to do the trick and by the time Deborah got back I felt alot better.

Cue extensive hair-straightening and getting ready to go out to see Eddie Izzard. I really need to allow more time for getting ready and need to include shower, complete wash of hair, and basically start from the beginning again. Trying to straighten hair that has had a day of being quite happily curly is 'challenging' at best.

So we rushed out, both quite dressed up, and in need of finding food and a taxi rather quickly - so of course we had the former in McDonalds and then rushed to the other side of Kings Cross to get the latter. Traffic also manic so ended up getting out of the tax at one end of Shaftsbury Avenue and walking (rather too briskly for the heels I was wearing - must get trainers for next time!) to the Lyric Theatre.

A friend had suggested that, when he went to see Eddie Izzard, that some of the material had been done before and that he seemed to have lost his edge a bit. The night that we went to see him seemed, to me at least, to be nothing like that; he was absolutely hilarious, I laughed and smiled so much that I had crease lines in my make-up!

Fabulous, just amazingly fabulous! As funny as ever if not funnier!

So after 3 hours (the set was over 2hrs 30mins, interval after about 1hr 40mins) of being in the, rather warm, theatre it was time to spill out on the busy streets of London to walk some more in a desperate bid to find a taxi! Finally Deborah spotted one and commandeered it! Got back after midnight still wide-awake and happy from the nights entertainment!

Friday

I'm going to try and blog about this long weekend in three seperate chunks to make it a bit easier to follow and for me to remember. I really should have done all this at the time but really couldn't manage to fit it into all that was going on. This might mean that I just skip stuff and shorten my rambling, probably a good thing :)

Anyway, Friday: Got up ridiculously early on Friday so that I could have my shower and then dry and straighten my hair. It felt very important to me that I look 'right' for such an important step in my life so I'd been planning the outfit and look for a few days and had to make sure I got it right. Anyway, no major stresses in getting ready and was only about 10mins behind the time I wanted to leave the house - about 7:15! (no wonder I'm tired now).

No big problems getting to Manchester in plenty of time via local bus and then little train from Chorley; got a few looks but no outright staring. Nothing really in Manchester either, everyone was friendly and helpful.

Just a point on the whole staring thing: I try and let people do it and get it over with. Sometimes it does bug me, particularly if it's totally blantant or constant, like the nosy old woman on the train to London who just kept looking. But generally if I can see someone is trying to have a surreptitious look I just turn the other way and let them not feel too awkward. I know I look 'odd' and I'd prefer people to not feel awkward so they don't associate me, or other trans people, as a threat or something difficult to deal with.

Anyway, got to London, got in a taxi, which included the mildly racist, anti-government rantings of the average cabbi (very entertaining), got to hotel, had to pay £10 to check in at 1pm because official time is 3pm (Travellodge money-making scheme), then finally wandered off to get to my appointment.

Can't remember now what I was thinking but I was pretty nervous, although I think I'd got most of it under control and had spent so much time going over everything in my head that there wasn't much else to think about!

Was early and ended up sitting waiting for my appointment and got talking to a lovely, beautiful and interesting woman whose name I've completely failed to remember. If you're reading this and you were at there around 2:30 on Friday; it was fantastic to chat to you and really helped my nerves, and get in touch :)

Dr Curtis was lovely as usual, and just asked how everything was going and how things had progressed since seeing him last. Explained everything that had been going on and how supportive everyone had been. Then came the topic of hormones and he simply asked whether I would be wanting to start treatment to which I answered: "Definitely".

Decided to go for patches instead of tablets - there is, from what I understand little difference in effectiveness but not hitting my liver as hard seemed like a good idea (particularly in light of the drinking that came in the evening - see later).

So armed with 3 months supply of patches I left feeling quite happy but with a little feeling of anti-climax. So, the plan was to go and spend silly money on a ring to mark this point in time and also to apply the first patch. Well, thought I better do that first so located toilets in Debenhams (snobbish and practical - reasoned the nicer stores would have bigger and cleaner loos) and stuck what looks like a square of sellotape onto my tummy. Hmmm, very much an anti-climax really.

Can't say I felt particularly different at all, but definitely happy, if still a little thoughtful and overwhelmed by it all. But that was it, I had started and it was all very real now.

Met up with Deborah and Sue in the evening and then with some other friends in a pub somewhere near Kings Cross (was quite lost at this point), and proceeded to try and drink WAY too much on an empty stomach. This was followed by a small amount of staggering (and things spinning a little) until with found a really nice Italian restaurant when we could drink more wine and desperately try and counteract this with food!

Can't remember what time I got to bed, think it wasn't too late but I was fairly drunk by this point and really just not thinking about much at all. Was still able to send silly txt messages to Lucy so I can't have been *that* drunk!

Hormones

I need to do a proper set of posts to describe all the fun stuff that has been happening this weekend but thought I'd cover the important stuff. First of all, thanks to Deborah for a FAB weekend! And now the fairly obvious (from the picture at least) news: I've started on hormone treatment so will now habitually be wearing something that looks like a bit of sellotape but is hopefully slightly more affective in feminising my body than something used to stick wrapping paper together! It's going to be a slow process but I'm VERY happy to have started! Anyway, more later when I get back home which hopefully shouldn't be too late.

Running before you can walk

I've thought a few times that I've kind of done things in a rather odd way regarding my transition and this may have made things easier or harder for me and everyone else. In some ways it makes me feel worse and in others better.

The facts are that I don't look passable, not by a long, long way. Nor do I look particularly 'nice' or pretty or any adjective that you would care to choose. Also there are alot of things I hate about my body that are a dead give-away if you looked at them alone (excepting the obvious bits here), for example my hands, arms, legs, face, etc - you get the idea.

I best I look like an odd guy with long hair and too much make-up on. I know friends will argue against this quite strenuously and sometimes I do believe what they say (I think because there is that part inside me that wants to believe it, is secretly thrilled to see even the tiniest bit right, and ultimately drives the self-delusion that I can look right), but really, you can't argue with the facts: this is not the body of a woman (yet - I thought I would inject at least some optimism).

I think alot of transexuals would have, quite sensibly, maintained a dual-life during this period until they got on hormones and felt more confident about how they looked. I didn't for various reasons, the main one being that it wasn't too difficult to go this route - I work in a very understanding and accepting environment.

That does leave me with the difficulty of being fulltime and increasingly being unhappy with how I look/sound etc but not really wanting to go backwards as that would feel like failure and almost a reason for me not being destined for this life.

I know others that have done this already and reached a turning point as important as this have got really emotional and depressed and generally gone through hell. It bothers me quite alot that I'm not reacting like that at all. I am definitely nervous and, as I said last night, everything is going round in my head but I'm not acting too extreme by any standard.

I guess, in defence of this, I have NEVER been an extreme person, I've always tried to appear happy and cheery to everyone and essentially do hide a little behind that image. But even though that may be a public mask, how I am inside isn't *that* far from the facade - it really does take alot to get me upset and with most things in life I've just kind of accepted them and got on with it (count your blessings and all that).

I think Friday is going to be done in somewhat of a blur and it's only going to hit me afterwards. I'm not really afraid of that day, though I am very concerned that I either will have failed to 'qualify' for treatment or that, several years down the line it won't have had the desired affect.

I'm also not sure how strong I really am to deal with everything that this could involve - I have in some ways not been running at all, I've been taking the easy walk doing all the things that really don't make an awful lot of difference to who I am, what is it going to be like when I have to face up to the really difficult and unpleasant stuff?

All over the place

Since the weekend my emotions and thoughts have been running at a ridiculous rate. I've had feelings that remind me of when I started this journey (I really need to find some better metaphors), when I was part of a real family, also when I was convinced that I did look quite good (they don't last long).

I can't slow down my thoughts; I can go from totally lacking in confidence to almost feeling arrogant and self-assured. The slightest thing can make me feel good or feel bad. All the while I'm kind of watching this inner turmoil and just trying to stop myself from getting carried away. I'm almost trying to think so much so that I don't think at all.

I read the comment to my previous post and was very moved by what Alex said about her experience, so much so that I started to get tears in my eyes but then my brain just whizzed onto something else; I'm trying to fill my head with so much to avoid facing reality I guess.

I don't feel depressed or anything like that, just kind of manic I guess and I know I will not be happy about that at some point soon. I also know that I'm going to seem very insensitive and selfish and totally self-absorbed and I'm sorry to everyone because of that.

Friday could be one gigantic anti-climax, or it may even be a complete and total disaster - I might not be doing the right thing; over the past few days I have certainly thought that. Maybe I am going to end up really becoming a woman - when I say it like that it seems unbelievable ... when I caught my reflection in the window at work this evening I realised how far I had come and how much I had changed already.

I suspect this and subsequent blog posts aren't going to be particularly coherent and interesting and will essentially be me just rambling randomly, sorry about that also! Please bear with me, normal, and possibly ever so slightly different and new, service will be resumed shortly.

[ Yep, pretty much self-indulgent gibberish all this is as well ... even mentioning that is probably just making it worse! ]