Family Drama (dream)

Last night’s sleep was a bit rough. I ended up waking up just before midnight and then fell back asleep to have some weird dreams. A lot of them I can’t remember, but the one I woke up from I do mostly.

I dreamt that Wolsey, myself and some other people were rummaging around an abandoned shop or restaurant. It might have been a fire hall now that I think about it. With us was someone who in the dream seemed to be my uncle on my dad’s side. He looked like a bit younger Sam Elliott (fifties or so) which is funny because my dad and Sam Elliott himself had a lot of similar looks to them… especially the ‘stache.

We had gone into one of the back rooms and found some bronze wall hangings. At some point in time, someone said it belonged to us and we shouldn’t lose it again. I told them I didn’t think it belonged to us, it belonged here in the place we were in. It matched with the same decoration and dedication as a photo that was hanging on the wall (for the life of me I can’t remember what the photo was, but it was important).

We dug around the abandoned place for a while and found a room with a large king-size bed. I was tired and was frustrated about something in the dream and I just fell on the bed and began to drift off to sleep… yes, sometimes I dream about going to sleep…

I wasn’t fully asleep, just listening to everyone when my uncle sat down on the bed and started grumping about me being in the middle. I was trying to regain enough consciousness so I could move over when he leaned over and started spinning me around in a circle on the bed to try and make more room. The whole time he was complaining that I probably wasn’t even asleep and that I was intentionally being a dick to him.

I opened my eyes in the dream almost immediately and he used that to exclaim even louder than I was intentionally fucking with him. I wasn’t. But for some reason, him doing that flipped me the fuck out and I shoved him off the bed. He stood up and I was on him shoving him up against a wall. I remember there was a little shelving set behind him that came up to almost his butt level. I was shoving so much that he was braced against it.

He wouldn’t look at me and he had shut down. The whole time I was screaming at him “Fuck you, I was sleeping you, fuckhead, I wasn’t lying.” I then shoved a couple more times but didn’t get any more physical with some intentionally thought. He did stop saying stupid shit.

It ended with me telling him that I might not be on testosterone anymore, but I sure as fuck would kick his ass with my weak ass arms (or something to that effect).

I woke up amped, angry and still not feeling bad I had lost my shit on a family member. It was also when I realized that it was the first time in a dream that I can remember that acknowledged my current life, that I was trans. It wasn’t wish-fulfillment where I thought I was a cisgender girl, and it wasn’t the old dreams I remember where I was either a guy or a monster. It was me as I currently was.

I don’t remember a lot of my dreams over the last couple of years. I posted about a couple of them but the last one I talked about and wrote about was in December 2018. I do know with my new injectable estrogen regimen that there have been a lot of physical changes, I suspect there has been a lot of mental changes as well (well chemically influenced at least). I also am finally feeling like this is my body.

That is one of the two important things I took away from this dream. That for the first time in my life, or at least since I was a teenager, I feel like I am in my body. I don’t feel like my body is done, it has a long way still to go, but it’s the first time I feel connected to it in my dreams as well as in reality.

The second important thing to take away from this dream is I have some unresolved family angst/drama/anger that I haven’t worked through. That is the only reason I can think of to have a fictitious uncle in the dream and why I was so angry at what really wasn’t that big a deal.

Honestly, I miss remembering my dreams, even if they can be incredibly bad nightmares (not this one). I hope this means I might start remembering them more. I like recording them and then looking back on them in future years.

Finishing Off 2019

This last month was supposed to be mostly vacation and medical appointments. With Christmas coming and this being the first Christmas where I am not so depressed that I was numb, I knew it might be a little rough emotionally.

It was a lot worse than expected. On Christmas Eve I got a call from my sibling. They had a broken leg, had decided to run off to Vegas to marry someone and within three days of being there it was broken off. I get a call saying they are stuck there with no money, no flight and no place to stay. They literally only went to Vegas wearing pajamas (although they did get some clothing when they got there).

I spent the next three days on the phone with them, other hotels and airlines trying to arrange a way for them back. To make it worse, the sibling wasn’t behaving very rationally and was having some issues of their own. They wouldn’t just take the next flight home and had to wait a day and a half (meaning I had to pay for an extra hotel night). They yelled at me (but stopped when I hung up and I think they knew I was going to leave them if they didn’t cut that shit out), and finally they got home.

They are doing better, which relaxes me. However, I haven’t slept more than 4 hours a night until last night since this whole event. It has set off my own mental health issues, but fortunately my hubby and my therapist have been really good (more about my therapy in the future).

The end result is a lot of extra money on a credit card, mental health flare and a continual worry that my sibling is going to hurt themselves as they are currently homeless back in Bellingham. It wracks me with guilt because I can’t afford any more money, and they have been nice about it not asking, but I still end up feeling like a failure.

None of this even counts the emotional grief I am not able to process because of this for the death of my parents and my missing them.

That is ok, this is a new year, new outlook and a new girl who is establishing boundaries. So don’t pity me too much, I will be fine. I just needed to write down a very abbreviated version here.

Fried Bologna and Spam Sandwiches

I woke up missing my father terribly this morning. I have always meant to talk about him more here, to share both the good and bad (and there was definitely both), but it has been hard with the transition, with the changes in my life and just how tired I have been.

Dad and I in 1972, always had a tight bond.

This last couple weeks have been really bad, I have wanted desperately to call him and talk to him and my mother. I did it daily until I was 45 and he passed (I talked to mother multiple times a day for five months after that until she passed). However I never got to tell them about my transition fully (we talked a little, that is its own story).

This morning though I really missed the quiet times we spent together. It wasn’t super regular, but it happened regular enough that it was an expected feature.

He would come in and wake me up at a very late/very early time (somewhere between midnight and four am). He would be drunk sometimes, stoned sometimes and sober a lot of the times. He would sneak into my bedroom and have me get up and take my blanket (even at the age of 14 or 15) and we would go out into the living room. Even though he was my father, we snuck around like we could get in trouble. He tried to do this with both my siblings, but neither one of them were ok with being awoken at one in the morning, I have always woken easily and I loved these moments. So other than a few exceptions, it was generally just me and him.

An example of late night watching tv with my sister and brother. They definitely weren’t as fond of it. Sorry the image is not retouched yet. That colored blanket/bedspread is the one I remember the most and I think we were watching Legend of Hell House.

He would just talk to me about the day, he would ask me all about my day, if I was in sports, chorus or orchestra he would ask me about that. We would watch a movie (usually a horror movie) together. Often he would make me a snack, one of his famous fried bologna or spam sandwiches, maybe some bratwurst or kielbasa, or if it was a good day one of his (and mom made this too) no-cook peanut butter oatmeal bars. We would sit and watch the movie and it was pretty spectacular for me, even as I became a teenager. Weirdly enough the movies I remember the most were Telefone and The Legend of Hell House.

These were quiet times in what was a very stressful life of violence, drugs, bikers and homelessness. I never complained or minded doing it at all. This morphed when I moved out, but never went away. I have horrific insomnia that wakes me up after midnight or one am anyways, and my dad would sometimes call me at super early hours and we would talk. I never had my ringer on so if I wasn’t up I wouldn’t’ wake up. I would just notice in a morning a call had happened and a voicemail that said simply “I love you Lucky.” I so miss those voicemails, and I am so angry I didn’t save them. It is hard to think of a world where your dad isn’t in it with you, before he is gone. I never fully considered that in time, funnily enough even though I stressed about him and mom passing for decades.

In a very rare blue moon before we moved out of Bellingham, but after I was with the hubby, I would go over there and we would sit in the living room watching tv early in the morning, with a single lamp on one of the side tables. While we drank coffee and had something to eat. In the last few years before I moved to Seattle and this was only via phone I had begun to bring his favorite donuts, Hostess raspberry filled powdered donuts, along with myself cooking the meals. He wasn’t able to get around like he did when I was a kid. I never thought my fried bologna sandwiches tasted as good, but he promised they were better than his. Maybe they were for him.

Dad and his dog Nikka

We still talked though when we didn’t meet in person. He would just chat with me, tell me things he was worried about, he was proud about with the other kids, or just how our family friends were doing. I would do the same. I think he liked talking even more when I was an adult. He didn’t have a lot of support network and when I could be there as well as an adult I think it helped. It helped me because he would listen to me as well.

So I woke up this morning in an unfamiliar hotel missing my dad. I feel guilty that it is only my dad I woke up missing. I love my mom, but our relationship was more complicated and it was my daddy I was missing.

Mom and Dad

I just thought I should start sharing more about my feelings and what I am thinking here. So here you go, the reason I spent most of this morning crying. That is hard because I never cried pre-transition, I am still not sure how to handle it. You would think that three and a half years later after his death this wouldn’t happen, but that’s isn’t true. You don’t get over people, you just adapt to the new circumstances.

I love you dad, and I really miss our late night/early morning tv watching.

Long long day… but worth it

Here it is 00:30 and I am awake with anxiety, uncomfortable dreams and still amped from my day. I feel distracted and to be honest emotional (evidently distracted enough that it is now 02:00 because I just sat here zoning out for 90 minutes).

This isn’t uncommon for me when I have to deal with family. Ever since my parents passed I haven’t had many good experiences (barring with my younger niece and nephew). The difference is today it felt like we got past something, maybe things are changing. Even if they aren’t, I think I am gaining the ability to just let things go.

Yesterday started decently, if not a bit early. I was up by 4am (anxiety about going up to visit parents grave). Hung out with husband a bit until I left later then normal (after 8am) to drive up to Bellingham (about a 130 mile drive one way). It is the first time I have been out and about by myself dressed female without my husband (barring work).

It started with going to the gas station at Safeway. Two different guys are filling up cars and they notice me. One guy just smiled, the other guy chuckled to his friend inside their truck. Fuck them I don’t care (actually not too much at least). Went inside the little store area to look for a Coke Zero, none where there. The older guy behind the counter asked me what I am looking for, I told him and he said “Honey, they are outside” and went out and got me the last Coke Zero. It was nice that he didn’t even hesitate, I wasn’t sure with him being older how he would react, then he yelled at one of the guys at the gas pump so I knew he wasn’t super nice all the time.

I then drove up to Bellingham and on my way stopped by a grocery store for flowers for my parents grave and a Starbucks. Everyone was nice and the florist lady called me Honey. Is that normal to have so many people use that term?

For some reason (maybe its hrt, or maybe I am old) I had to stop again to pee. This time at a rest stop. This is where things got twitchy. I am parked and four asian ladies in a Canadian plated van step out and smoke three fee from my window. I then get up to go to the bathroom and I get stared at by a bunch of rednecks when I go into the bathroom, and when I get out of the rest area bathroom there are three different guys from different group standing there watching me.

I think the one advantage is none of them realized I was taller than them, and I have a lot of tattoos. They just stared at me, but didn’t say a word… so neither did I. I got out of the rest area as soon as possible though.

I got to Bellingham and picked up my brother. This was a funny part. I swing into his apartment complex and he almost walks past me. He is staring at me like he is trying to figure out who I am. This is the first time he has seen me dressed in makeup and a skirt.

He got in the car and laughed about it. He said that he saw me from outside his apartment, he thought he recognized the car but when he saw only one person and he thought it was a woman, he didn’t think it was me. I knew he was telling the truth because when he walked past me I saw the moment when he recognized me.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I pass in general, but it was nice to see evidently I can feminize well enough.

We then met with my niece at Bob’s Burgers and had a great lunch. She also had a confused look when she saw me  and she congratulated me on how I looked. We then had lunch and she talked about her life, my brother’s life and mine. I feel like we got past some previous family stuff. Don’t get me wrong there is still stuff that hurts and I will eventually talk about here, but you try and get past it.

Neither my niece or brother wanted to go to the cemetery so I took my brother home. On the way home we stopped by his kid’s house and I got to say hi to my younger set of nephew/niece combination (they also didn’t recognize me at first, not saying I passed as a woman, but that I didn’t look like who I was). Once done there we had to stop at three places to pick him up a bus pass and we said farewell.

Finally I got to go to the cemetery. I was supposed to come up a couple of months ago, but with all the surgeries, medical visits, etc I never made it. I spent a good hour or so there, cleaning up the headstone of my parents, taking pictures and dropping my excess flowers on obviously unvisited graves. I think I want to go up there and do a full photo layout of the cemetery. It is still the single most beautiful graveyard/cemetery (I don’t know the difference) that I have seen in person in my life.

Finally I drove home (took 3 hours to get anywhere) and got to see the husband. It was a 12 hour day that felt like 16, but I felt better. I think I want to go up there a little more regularly.

What I did find was my family I met with seemed ok with me walking around with them with a skirt on. I didn’t realize how anxious I was about how they would react (and I still don’t know why I care). It was a good experience though and I am glad I did it.

Oh, and there will be photos later!

That was more than pointless.

*CW, there are references to unaccepting/narcissistic family

I went up Saturday to visit with my little brother and my parent’s grave. The drive is about 250 miles round trip and the husband and I just made a day for it.

I wanted to see my brother one last time before my FFS. I just wanted to check in on him and see how he was doing and to maybe talk a bit about my anxiety. He is the last blood member of my family that knew me as a child (my sister has been written off for some time now).

He was excited to meet up too, or so I thought. We arrived there after three hours of horrible traffic and found at the last minute he couldn’t go out to eat. So we sat with him, talked and he only wanted to talk about how his life was fucked up, he had a warrant and he wasn’t going to do anything about it because he was tired of jumping through hoops.

All valid enough I guess until my surgery came up. He didn’t do anything supportive. He didn’t ask how I was feeling, if I was nervous, or what my plans were. He didn’t even ask anything more than “which surgery” and I told him it was FFS.

We talked a little more about his warrants and about his on-off relationship until it got mentioned by the hubby I was puking all the time from the meds. He asked about that a little curious and I explained it was a side effect of Spiro, but that it would go away when I got an orchiectomy since I wouldn’t need to take Spiro anymore.

All he asked was why I had lied to him about getting GRS.

I tried to explain first that GRS and Orchiectomy aren’t the same thing. You get an orchie as the first step for GRS (and if I continue to have other side effects from the spiro it may happen, but that is a different post) but it isn’t GRS.

He was worried I was cutting off my dick. I told him at this moment that wasn’t the plan, for the moment I was going to try and keep the dick, but get rid of the testes so I can feminize easier. His exact words after that was “Why bother keeping the dick if you don’t have balls”.

I let the conversation drop off from there until we eventually went to his ex’s house to visit my niece and nephew. They were nice to see and the ex asked me about my surgery. I told her in about two sentences before somehow it switched to stuff about her boyfriend…

I am grateful for my spouse and for my chosen family, because there is no support from my blood family now that my parents are dead. I am truly glad I don’t have just my blood family to try and fall back on.

I came home with my feelings a little hurt, tired from trying to be supportive for them emotionally and no support in return. I don’t know if I will visit them much anymore.

Gender Odyssey Convention and Traveling

Friday, the day after we met up with Dr. Meltzer and Dr. Ley, we headed into the one panel I was interested in. It dealt with surgery options for Facial Feminization Surgery, Breast Augmentation and Body Contouring. I realized I would probably know most of the stuff they would say, but I wanted to double check.

The commute into Seattle from Tacoma wasn’t the worst, but I slept poorly from my anxiety of meeting the docs the day before. I am really excited to do this, but it does make me anxious to think about them cutting open my brow and front of my sinus, cutting it into pieces and rearranging it, along with grinding my brow and jaw down and moving my scalp forward.

The hotel we saw the docs at

We arrived at the convention and I will admit I was intimidated. I am very fortunate to know some very awesome trans people, but I had never been around that many. That brought up a whole slew of anxiety that maybe I will talk about later, but this isn’t the time.

When we got there, just a few minutes before the panel, we found our case manager Raeylean… she is fantastic. I had brought her a flower to thank her, and she seemed overjoyed. She is incredibly huggy as a person and we got to talk for a little bit until it was time to go in to the panel.

The panel itself was very informative actually. Some of what I thought was no longer the case for surgical techniques, and even more importantly I found out that before coming to Meltzer’s office, Dr. Ley had been a pediatric craniologist who specialist in working on the skulls of small children… I have a huge head so that means I should be easy for her. Way more reassured I am going to be ok. The panel was worth it just for that.

We left and visited a little more with R, then headed out to pick up our friend straybits. He is as close as any family and we have been friends for decades. He just got back from Southeast Asia/India for the last year and will be going back for a few months. He was heading back up to Bellingham, so we told him we would take him up.

 

Hubby and straybits

On the drive up we got caught up on everything and just enjoyed being with around each other. It was a nice drive with me, hubby and straybits. We got some food in Everett and 3 hours later were in Bellingham. During this time I came out to him and he just gave me a hug. I am not sure what I was worried about.

Straybits and myself

In Bellingham we dropped him off. We are really hoping we can see him before he leaves again, but if we don’t we know we will always be there with each other.

straybits

We then got to go see my brother. He is doing really well, sober and thinking straight. He seems to be accepting my transition and was very positive. We stayed with him for awhile before we moved on.

By now it was about 7pm, but we wanted to stop by my parents grave (both of them are together) and pay our respects. That only took a few minutes, but I realized we need to clean it up when we come back up in a few weeks.

Hubby at mom and dad’s grave.

We then drove the 120 miles home and went to bed. It was a really good day, but a really exhausting day. We are still recovering now, a week later from the trip. It was worth it to see family and get reassurances about my surgery.

Dream – The Nod

just got up from my first bad dream that I remember long enough to write about in awhile (I think its the first in our new place). I am still shaking from it as a matter of fact.

There was a large group of us at this older house. It was some people I knew, some I didn’t. It wasn’t a full party, there was a little drinking but nothing big. As a group we all talked, laughed and things went well enough.

The group decided to go to a new house, and they all went out the back door to go over there. I found myself at that time unable to follow them easily, I was at the front of the house (outside) and found myself in crutches with a broken foot. I am sure was reminiscent of last October.

I struggled outside trying to go around the house with a hill with weird steps that had appeared. I eventually got up and over and to the neighbor’s house with a lot of swearing. Once I got there the party had become more serious, a lot of people were drunk or high.

I looked over and saw my mom laying on the floor. At first I thought she had fallen (she was older in the dream) and I ran over to check on her. She was making absolutely no sense. I asked her a few questions and realized she was high as fuck.

Even as I stood over here, yelling at her so she could hear me and pay attention she could only half look at me and tell me its all ok.. while using my brother’s name for me. She was on a huge nod from getting high.

I was so angry, the kind of angry I have been at my parents for getting drunk when I was young. A couple of the others around me quieted down and got serious (I think they noticed my mood had changed) as I rifled through mom’s pockets.

I pulled out a series of fancy labeled vials (it looked professional packing, like you bought it from a store) and kept asking her where she got it. A couple of people nodded to me, they knew the answer and I put the vials in my pocket. She was trying to talk to me, while she was as high as fuck, and I just patted her and told her don’t worry I would find them as I got up and was getting ready to kill something.

I woke up so angry and hurt from this dream. While I am sure the dream came from the homeless guy I gave a buck to yesterday outside Target. He was on a nod with a sign. He needed money though, so I don’t regret it, although I didn’t anticipate this as a result. The weird part is my parents never did heroin, or anything that puts a person on a nod. It was alcohol, with pot and sometimes coke or acid.

Even now I am hurt, angry and missing my mom at the same time. With both parents passing away a couple of years ago I haven’t really dealt with it much. Too much work issues, husband’s transition surgeries and finally I just wasn’t ready. There was too much other stuff in my head to deal.

The anger and hurt reminded me a lot of when I was a teenager, how angry I was when my parents would drink. I was angry all the time and I think that was probably why I was like I was. I suspect all the things are going to start coming to the surface, especially since I never have truly dealt with my parents drug use and alcoholism and how it impacted our family.

I don’t know if its because my headspace is changing with my transition to female, the hormones, or just exhaustion (probably a combination of all three). It has become a lot harder to shove my feelings inside me, and I haven’t figured out the best way to handle how difficult they are to bury.

I guess that will be part of this journey, and sadly I suspect this won’t be the last dream of this kind either.

Needless worry.

Well I guess that was a pointless worry. We did go up for the laser hair removal appointment and arrived early to meet my brother at a local diner… who was still passed out from the night before and didn’t show up. Yep, even after calling and texting we got nothing.

I guess that made it a real easy decision on what to say (as in nothing). So we had some biscuits and gravy and went on to the appointment.

The appointment itself went really well, they upped the laser wattage so it might be more effective this time, although it was pretty effective to begin with. We talked about electrolysis with the staff and just enjoyed the day.

We then came home and hung out in our bedroom. All in all a good day, and one that had a lot of needless worry going up to the leaving time.

Stressful morning, maybe coming out

This morning is highly stressful. I am going up to my old hometown to get my second session of laser hair removal on my face, and while I am there I am going to visit the parents’ grave and have breakfast with my little brother.

I am planning on telling him about my transition. Right now as it stands only my husband, one friend who is also transgender, my doctors and the laser hair removal people know. Since I still work for the Department of Defense (and will do it for at least six more weeks) I don’t dare go public. In addition I am not sure how public I will be until the hormones have worked the magic they have (at least as far as they can).

The reason I am considering coming out to be my brother is because he was very upset to find out after a lot of other people about my husband’s transition (from wife to husband). I love him, and I know he loves me and I want to give him a chance. He seemed hurt by it and my family was incredibly close growing up (probably inappropriately so).

My fear is he will totally blow it, freak out and then tell everyone else. He is fairly even keeled about a lot of things, but every once in awhile a childish streak comes out and he acts like a freaking out teenager.

I really want to believe he will keep it quiet, be happy and supportive. I think that is a possibility. Sadly the thing that freaks me out is he might not be. His own demons have been biting at him since our parents passed and sometimes he doesn’t make the best choices, especially concerning life decisions and sobriety.

I am worried he is going to lose his shit, tell others and bitch. To be honest it isn’t his freakout that is worrying me and making it hard to sleep, it’s the fact that if he does that he is out of my life and I already don’t talk with certain other members of my family. 

So this morning is stressful until we find out what direction this goes.

365 Project – February 2018

Date: February 2018

The music is “Isle of Doom” by Steven Lowther provided by http://www.freesoundtrackmusic.com

Website: http://www.luckyslife.com