As many of you have noticed, I’ve all but stopped writing my blog these days. I guess I really ought to get around to formally saying “I’m done with it”, but it keeps calling me back from time to time. In some ways it’s kind of cathartic I guess, and is something like a diary for me. Sometimes it makes me feel better to write it, and sometimes it condenses and distills my feelings and makes me feel worse. You just never know until you start writing. One thing for certain though, I’ve always tried to be honest and up front here, so I’m not gonna pull any punches with this one either.
Honestly, there are just so many ways that you can keep telling essentially the same story:
I went to the airport.
I got on a plane.
I got off the plane and went to a hotel.
I may or may not have met someone along the way.
Something interesting or amusing may or may not have occurred along the way.
It got to the point where I could pretty much create a template and just fill it in with details:
“Today I went to “ <INSERT CITY HERE> “ where I met up with “ <INSERT NAME HERE>
So yeah, I’ve kind of backed away from the blog and all of the time and effort required to write them.
As seems to be the case for most of us, I play with depression quite a bit. It’s an old and constant companion with a presence that ebbs and flows but never quite goes away. These days I dwell quite a lot on my wife of almost 33 years and what being married to me has done to her. I wasn’t going to talk about this here, but its haunting me to obsession the last few months. I’ve shared all of the happy and fun stories with you, perhaps encouraging some to take the chance and step out into the world in the hope for, and in search of, happiness or acceptance. The full truth though, is that I, and those around me, have paid a price for who and what I am.
I’ve talked to a lot of women through the years and have seen so many of their eyes light up with admiration when I tell them that I am transgender.
“You are SO brave!” they tell me, eyes glittering with sincerity, “And look at you – you’re beautiful!” Women find this brave, and admirable, and perhaps inspiring. . . unless it’s their husband that we are talking about. That brings it a bit closer to home. A bit more real. A bit more significant. Now it’s no longer about someone being brave for having the courage to be themselves, it’s about “Oh my God, what will my friends think if they find out? What if the neighbors see my husband leaving in the morning? What if my father finds out what my husband is? What about my church?!” It’s a whole different story when it’s your husband.
Often, it helps when you have others to talk to, to share your worries with, and to help you carry the load, and so several times in the last 30 years my wife has told friends of hers about me. All of them, every single one of them, no longer talks to her. Oh, they will still say hello when she crosses their path, but they no longer call her, or come over, or invite her over. In many ways, I’ve taken what used to be a vibrant and outgoing young lady and turned her into an isolated woman. Her best friends have all bailed on her, and the knight in shining armor that all little girls dream of, and that she had thought she had married, thinks he’s the fricking princess. I feel guilty for what I’ve done to her. I feel over whelming guilt. So the bright eyed little girl that I married is afraid to have friends, afraid that her family will find out that she married a freak, and is spending most of her days and nights alone while I’m on the road. To make matters just that much worse, with all of my health and heart problems, we haven’t been . . .well . . .you know . . . intimate . . . in years. So now I’ve given her a lonely and passionless life and marriage. Yay me. Way to go. When I started having all of the heart problems, do you know what one of my first thoughts was? It wasn’t “Oh gee, I hope I don’t die.” Nope, one of my first thoughts was “Gee, maybe it’s not too late for my wife to meet someone else and have a normal life if I die.”
So yeah, I guess I’m in a bit of a dark place right now.
Oh, this week I went to <DETROIT> and I met <ABSOLUTELY NO ONE BECAUSE I CANT DEAL WITH THE ANXIETY RIGHT NOW>
Sigh . . .