It's not fun having so much time to mull life over. To go over where you are, how you got here and why are you here. Questioning every major decision in your life up to now. Then questioning the future. What if this? What if that? It's usually worse just as my head hits the pillow when I go to bed. That and the heartburn. 

Like a lot of people, I have never been off of work or school for this long. Not since I went to school in 1981. I feel old now. Life for me was so simple then. 3 television channels, no computers, mobile phones, no pressures of our 'modern' life. No pressure to have to conform to certain norms, have the latest stuff, clothes and gadgets. A treat was fish and chips on a Saturday night or getting a couple of books out of the library. Holidays were in the UK. We weren't an amazingly well off family, but we managed.

Life has changed many times over in the intervening years. The trauma of school, college, work, relationships, friendships and many other little trials and tribulations have made me the person I am today. A sometimes neurotic, perfectionist, stubborn, caring, resilient and lonely person. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I care for those who earn my trust and respect. There are no second chances anymore. Disrespect me, lose my trust or go against me and you're gone. No if's or buts. I've been hurt, disrespected and been taken advantage of too many times by people in the past and this is now my defence mechanism.

All of this has led me to contemplate what the future holds for me. Where am I going? What am I doing? How am I doing? The future is very uncertain for me. The rise in transphobia in the UK and in the developed world is on the rise, thereby increasing the risk of attack, loss of rights, inability to access healthcare and even the ability to just survive is a very real threat. My physical transition is in some respects also on hold at the moment. The tunnel just got longer again and the light is getting further away.

The ongoing effect of this pandemic on the economy means that my employment may be in jeopardy. The ne thing that has kept me stable, is potentially going to be taken away. Add finding that someone to share my life with is, the older I get, scary, let alone adding my transition into the mix. Being single for 9 years now has also made me very set in my ways. That's another thing to contend with!

My resilience has got me this far, however, I have no idea if it will get me through the choppy waters that are in front of me. I can only dig down so far to survive before there is nothing left to fight with. The last few weeks have been very dark in places; those places are at the moment becoming more and more frequently visited. Lots of what if's and hypothesising about the future and no way of stopping that river once it's in full flow. Many sleepless night will testify to that fact. 

The fact that I've never turned to drink, drugs, (only the prescribed kind), or smoked is one thing in my favour. Never even been tempted. Ever. I didn't even have alcohol until I was 18. Not a sheltered childhood, just a lot going on during my formative years. Situations and experiences that have had a long lasting affect on my life and the directions it has taken. This is where my resilience has stemmed from. My ability to dig deep and keep going even under enormous pressure. My ability to adapt to new situations. My ability to survive. 

I need to break away from some of those experiences though and shape my future. I have been held back by certain lessons learnt which have also given me a negative effect on how I view certain aspects of life, especially interaction with other people. My life is getting shorter; nearly 8 weeks on my own at home and 9 years single means that my time is getting more precious. I can't waste anymore than I already have and am doing. Time to stop procrastinating and get a move on. 

It's 1am on a Thursday morning. I can't relax enough to sleep. So here is another rambling post for you to ignore/enjoy/laugh at.

After spending 4 weeks in isolation so far, it's safe to say that my mental health is slowly deteriorating.  I know a lot of people are in the same situation as me with regard to their mental health and that it is a very difficult and uncertain time for all of us. This isolation period has given me personally too much time to think about things, where I'm heading and what the future may hold. Damn you, overactive imagination.

Take bedtime. At the moment, I have no defined bedtime. My sleep pattern is non existent. One night, asleep by 12. The next night, hopefully by 5am, if I'm lucky. I then lose half the day asleep, which then sets off a chain reaction of deteriorating mental health, bad eating and general malaise. I'm trying to stay active, but, I'm almost out of things to do around my home, I haven't got an outside space to go into, only my appointed exercise time and I can't visit anyone or have anyone visit. 

The act of just going to work meant that I could interact with people and now that's been taken away from me. This then multiplies my feelings of loneliness, which leads to self doubt and lack of confidence that I will find someone. I'm used to being on my own, but away from virtually any human contact is really tough to deal with. It's becoming tougher with every passing day.

I haven't been out now for 7 days. Yes, I know I should get out and have my exercise, but I can't face it unless me leaving the flat has a purpose; i.e. shopping. Today, I have a double purpose for going out. Collect my meds from the chemist and food shopping. That'll probably be it until next week. Who knows? I think, in a way, I feel guilty for going out just for a walk. I shouldn't, but there's always that niggling feeling that I should stay indoors and not go out at all. 

I am mindful of how far I've come without having someone by my side or my biological nearest relatives beside me. I have wonderful surrogate families and friends around me, but I long for that big hug and the love and affection that I haven't had for years. I miss that feeling of belonging, closeness, love. I worry that being on my own for so long that I won't be able to open up to anyone fully again and I'll be alone now until I die. 

I thought I was making headway on this one after my counselling, but this past few weeks, I've gone backwards. I look at myself everyday and wonder how I've got to this point in my life. How I haven't taken the easy route out, filled myself full of chemicals or alcohol, slept around or just headed off down the rabbit hole of hedonism. How have I survived the hand I've been dealt with, all the bad things that have happened? Is it me? Am I just difficult to get along with? Am I too strong willed and stubborn? Do I like things done my own way? Some of it, yes. All of it, maybe. I just try to do what is best for the situation and for other people usually, without thinking of myself. I think It's what I've always done. 

I will get through this; I always seem to find the inner strength to survive. Yes, I may seem cheerful, have a smile, crack a joke (albeit usually a bad one!). I use it as a mask to deflect my inner hurt and pain so I don't bring anyone else down or make or feel sorry for me. Please, this is not a cry for help - It's always just a way of sharing my innermost feelings and thoughts to whoever reads them. I don't write these posts for the sympathy vote. I just want people to understand why I sometimes act certain ways or do certain things. Why sometimes I don't do things or see people (when we can). 

My life is a maze of emotions, appointments, battling my own demons, dealing with the loneliness and trying to be the person I should have been, whilst gong through puberty, holding down a full time job and running a home. I sometimes fail. I say the wrong thing, I don't get back to someone, I forget to do something. That's usually because I have shut myself off for a while just to regroup and calm my overactive mind. That's my coping mechanism. Just not 4 weeks (and counting) of it.

I thought I'd add an addendum to my last post. I touched on the fact that I've gone back to wearing my prosthetic breasts and padded pants. I wanted to explain in more detail why I have taken the option at this stage in my transition. So, here goes...…….

I have, since a very early age, had body issues. Puppy fat when I was younger to the weight gain through hormone therapy and comfort eating because of poor mental health have always meant that I've spent most of my life being overweight or, as I am now classed, obese. (Really, based on health charts, I'm obese.) It had blighted me for years and I am my own worst enemy when it comes to lack of exercise and food intake. I like food, especially when I don't have to cook or pay for it!

Growing up, I had a diet of hearty meals, full fat milk, butter, but not a lot of sweets and no cola until I was 14. We had Wimpy burgers instead of McDonalds, fish and chips once a week and a roast every Sunday. Exercise was PE at school and maybe riding my bike. This was the norm until my teens, when the food variety expanded into things like pizza, pasta and curry and weekly badminton sessions and more frequent bike riding. This is when I was at my thinnest and fittest. 

So what happened? Marriage, mortgage, divorce, near death experiences, toxic friends, hormone therapy and mental health issues have all in their way contributed to my weight and exercise issues and my now bad body image issues. I was never that good with my body image before, but since starting my hormone therapy and the potential changes it could have bought, I feel that I haven't developed as I would have hoped. 

When I stared transitioning, I decided to differentiate between the two entities. I would artificially alter my body shape by using padding. Namely the prosthetic breasts and padded pants. Even after staring the hormones, I carried on using them. Then, things started to change. Breast tissue growth and rounding of the hips and bum looked promising. So I stopped wearing them. (Plus it was getting hot wearing them in the summer and a little sweaty.)

All hell then broke loose in my life. From near drowning, those toxic friends, work related issues, mental health issues, and my own issues with transitioning, exercise took a back seat and the food intake increased. So much so, that in 2 years, I have put on over 2 stone. Which I now have to lose, or I won't get my ultimate goal, gender confirmation surgery.

In those 2 years, I have gone from being excited to the changes in my body, to now hating the sight of it both clothed and unclothed. I just look like a fat person with moobs and extra bits I don't want. I have no confidence in myself as a person or as a woman, I constantly feel that people are looking and staring and talking behind my back. Even at home, this affects even the basics of how I perceive myself, how I move, sit and stand. 

These past few weeks of enforced isolation and the rediscovery of the padding have given me a lot to think about. The perfect opportunity to look at my life, where it's heading, why I feel certain ways and what I can do to move forward. I'm currently eating my 5 a day, drinking more water, am more aware of what I'm eating (thanks to a good friend of mine who is helping me to eat better, when I get back on track again) and deciding to wear the padding again. Combine that with the fact that I am more relaxed overall, considering our current situation and I am starting to feel better in myself.

The padding is making a difference. I am holding myself differently, walking differently and even sitting differently. My mindset is changing again. It's taking me back to where it should be. I feel like I should do. I'm starting to feel me again. That person who, 4 years ago, was starting to live in the world and was full of hope for the future. I'm not feeling like that 'bloke in a dress' anymore. That fraud, that fake. That person who is afraid to go out, go to the toilet, even look at themselves in the mirror. I have my confidence increasing again.

I realise that I can't wear them forever. That's just not viable. This is where the exercise comes in. If I can see changes happening for the better, that will improve my body image issues. That in turn should negate the need for some if not all the padding. I'm not ruling our a little surgical help later on in at least one area, if all else fails. Where that is, is up to you to guess and for me to know!

Hopefully, this will give you a little background to my body issues and why I have made the decision I did in my last post. Only I can go about not having to wear them in the future. I just need the willpower and gumption to start moving in that direction. Going to the gym is a non starter at the present time, as is swimming. Any exercise will have to be at home or walking outside. I will sort something out. I need to. My future really does depend on it. xx

So, as I seem to have a bit of time on my hands at the moment, I thought it was a good time to get my addled brains musings into word form for you all to read, digest or ignore at your leisure.

Living on your own during a period of self isolation is tough. It's not just the staying indoors except for legitimate reasons side of it, it's the lack of any human interaction on a daily basis. I am used to it in some ways, in living on my own, but I always had work or friends to see to cope with it. This time though, it's a lot harder and tougher on my mental health. The first week was the hardest. It hit me like a brick. No interaction at all just magnified how isolated I am and how lonely I am.

Now, I'm not looking for sympathy. Some of this is of my own doing. I am scared of meeting people outside of my circle, so I have difficulty making new friends, let alone meeting someone special. I have some good friends and not being able to see them or even interact with them on a one to one personal level is very difficult to deal with. I think, in two weeks, I've actually spoken to 5 people face to face (albeit from either behind Perspex or from 2 metres away). I have video messaged a few people as well, but it's not the same. 

All of this also meant that my operation and my current treatment are also on hold/postponed for the foreseeable future. I'm so close, but yet again, so far. I have to take it in my stride though. It's not been an easy journey so far, so this is really par for the course.

Last week was better. Last week was different. I had relaxed. For the first time in ages, even with all the uncertainty in the world, I had relaxed. Not just chilled out a bit. I relaxed. Being more relaxed has actually been a very good bonus from all of this. It has helped me to sort out my head a little as well as sorting out the physical environment around me. It has given me time to think about what is holding me back and what a rut I had fallen into. Not just work wise, but life in general.

One of my major issues is my body. For me, the hormones only do so much. With my weight, I don't feel, physically, very feminine. This the affects my mental view of myself to the point that I just feel like a fraud and essentially a 'bloke in a dress'. Yes, I have a small chest and a slightly bigger arse, but this, for me at least, isn't enough. I have been acutely aware that this makes me feel, look and act more like the wrong me, especially at home.

When I started transitioning, I wore a pair of false prosthetic breasts and a padded pants. Just to differentiate between the person I used to be and the person I should have been. I stopped wearing them about 2 years ago as I thought that I didn't need them anymore. Whilst going through the myriad of boxes under my bed, I found those attachments. So, out of curiosity, I put them on. Instantly, I felt better. I felt more like I should do. I felt empowered, I felt real. I felt me. (For those with a dirty mind, I'm way ahead of you!) I made the decision to start wearing them again, for the foreseeable future. Since then, I have felt happier, I've been proactive with sorting stuff out in the flat, doing a few bits of DIY and I am feeling better about not having any human interaction. 

Some of you may be disappointed with my decision, but my mental health is my main priority. Plus, wearing the tighter underwear means I am eating less. (Well that and the fact that I am more aware than ever about when I go/what I get, when shopping.) Eating less = Losing weight, hopefully. I religiously eating my 5 a day, drinking more water, snacking less. A double win. 

The uncertainty of the situation we are all in will hit eventually. I will dwell on it. It will pull me back down. As long as everybody does what we need to do, this will be over quicker. I just want to be able to see people in the flesh again. Not to have to stay 2 metres away or be behind Perspex. To give people a hug, to see my close friends again. Even go back to work. Yes, I said it. Work. I'm lucky that I live by the sea, 2 parks and near the town centre, meaning that I have plenty of walking options for my daily exercise. I have 3 supermarkets within walking distance as well. It could be a lot worse. I have to take the view that I am still alive and have all I need around me to survive. And tea. Plenty of tea. 

STAY HOME. SAVE LIVES. PROTECT THE NHS. The quicker we get through this, the quicker life will find a new normality. xx

I plateaued. The despair did eventually level out. I started to climb. Higher. The top is a very long way away though, but I am climbing. The hole is still deep, but the light at the top is now a little brighter.

The last few weeks have still been challenging. The front is still there. The acting is still strong. But a few little things have happened to stop the decent. That reconnection with old friends, connecting to family again, that little piece of good news at work, that few days away from the epicentre of my life, the chemist actually having all of my medication in one go. Plus some beautiful cats. It's a start. 

I'm trying to not think of things going backwards. The 'it's too good to be true' syndrome. The 'I don't deserve this' and the 'we're just teasing you' narratives. Things aren't going to magically be fab overnight. The road will be long and arduous. I'm just going to make small steps along it for now. Take those little pluses where I can and try to weather the minuses. 

I want to thank all those who have listened to me, talked to me, put up with me, helped me and fed me. Thank you to the cats who stared at me whilst I slept. Thank you to my friend for lending me their car. Thank you to my friend who kept messaging me to make sure I was OK. Thank you to the friend who invited me to stay with them for a few days. Thank you to the friend who, even after a couple for rough years between us, I'm still proud to have as a friend. 

Tomorrow is another day...…...

I am struggling. I have been for about 3 months now. I am descending in to a hole from which is getting harder and harder to see the light from the top. A hole in which the further I descend, the more overwhelming everything seems to be. A hole which is threatening to take me over completely.

Transitioning is a long and sometimes very lonely journey. From the gatekeeping in the NHS to the 'friends' that disappear over the years and the family that disown you, it all takes it's toll. Add to that the rampant dysphoria, fear that you will be attacked just for being you, the current media frenzy on the fact that I shouldn't really exist, the rise of far right and far left ideologies debating your very existence and the constant feeling that you will be alone forever, make quite a poisonous cocktail.

Just to be clear, I have never doubted transitioning, never wanted to go back and I know this is the right decision for me. It's just that over the past 3 months, all of this has been slowly but surely eating away at my confidence, sanity, mental and physical health. It is being replaced by anxiety, tiredness, fear, emotional ambivalence and lack of self esteem and confidence in just being alive. The waves of doubt are letting in the waves of wondering if things would be better off if I wasn't here at all. Yes, I've been to that port and it's staring to look like a very nice destination. No more drama, no more pain and no more feeling like a burden.

Medically, I can't just take some anti-depressants to help with this. They interact with my anti - breakdance (epilepsy) meds. NHS counselling consists of CBT (Cognitive behavioural therapy) which give you coping strategies. I've been through that, got the leaflets, seen the books. I've exhausted all my known strategies to help me and they're not working. It's just easier now to slip down the hole and slowly pull away from everyone and everything. You can't miss me if you don't see me as often, right?

Emotionally, I can't even emote properly. I can't cry (and I really want to), scream, feel anything other than ambivalence (again, I want to feel something). Being on my own is hard in the fact you have no one to listen to your fears, thoughts, dreams or to share your life with. Sometime you just want to curl up with someone and be cuddled. Just to be held and told everything is going to be OK. But then finding someone is even more difficult because of who I am and the fear that when you tell someone you are transgender, you may be attacked physically and verbally. Catch 22. Want to find someone but too scared to.

Physically, I'm stating to look in the mirror and not see me. I keep seeing the person I used to be. The person I didn't want to be. The false me. This is my dysphoria. Not seeing the person I want to be after four years of upheaval, appointments, hormones, letting the person I want to be, well, just be. Looking in the mirror and seeing that other person after everything that has happened. It's disheartening and depressing. It permeates everything in my life. From not wanting to go out or speak, to just how I hold myself, sit, eat or even think. 

I do have some very good friends, surrogate family and my own family (a couple of my cousins) around me. However, as much as they say they are there for me, I need far  more than they can give right now. I need that cuddle, that cry, that emotional support. I have always given support when it's needed. That's just me. That's what I do. Please understand that I cannot do this anymore. I've nothing left to give. It's to my detriment that I now cannot even help myself. I need that help now. I need a friend like me. That one who will put their issues to one side, even when they are low and help others. 

What you see and hear everyday from me is a front. A well acted and thought out and constructed front. That laughter hides the hurt, that smile hides the pain, that joke hides the emotional void. I sit at home and the darkness descends. That loneliness grips me. I speak to no one after I get home until I get to work the next day. Anxiety then stops me from going out and just exiting outside my four walls, so makes it worse. Catch 22 again. 

The sum of these parts is the cause of my decent over the past few months. On their own, they are probably easier to overcome. However, when they start to intertwine with each other, it's extremely hard to even know where to start. So you don't. And it pushes you deeper and deeper down that hole. Ever deeper. Ever deeper.

Love and relationships. The eternal conundrum. It's something I have been giving a lot of thought to recently as my past posts will testify. It's an area of my life that I haven't wanted to explore over the past few years as I have had a lot of other things to think about which have been more important. However, since I have started my therapy sessions, it's an area of my life that is now not looking so bleak and out of reach.

My mantra for the past few years has been : Whatever happens, happens. Meaning, that if anyone of any denomination passed my way, then so be it. However, more recently, my heart is being drawn in a certain direction with regard to my sexuality. Don't ask me how or why, it's just sort of, well, happening. I suppose, the combination of puberty, hormones, finding myself and the whole relationship issue has finally kickstarted my journey toward my sexuality.

There are many labels out there to define someones sexuality. Terms such as Lesbian, Gay, Demisexual, Bisexual, Pansexual, Asexual and others out there are used to denote someones sexual preferences. A majority of  people have worked out their sexuality during their teenage years. It's a time for experimentation and finding out who you are and you usually have a pretty good idea who you like by your early 20's. I thought I had as well. 

I find myself going back a *few* years to being a teenager and the process of defining my sexuality, albeit without the experimentation and the fact I have to 'adult' on a daily basis. Who do I find attractive? What am I looking for in a potential partner? All questions everyone in the history of time has asked themselves. Actually having to think about it as an adult is fraught with the dangers of hindsight and experience. Your judgement is clouded. Well, it is for me. I'm a worrier and look for the worst in a situation/experience. 

You have to bear in mind, it's been 8 years since I was in a relationship and nearly 20 years since I last dated. Which also means over 8 years since I actually shared a bed or home with anyone. Then again, I'm not the person I was all those years ago. A lot has changed. I'd like to think my sexuality is still in a fluid state and still will be for a few years yet. Lately, I am finding a group of people more attractive and I can picture myself with that group more than another. Even a type is emerging. 

No clues for you though. It's something I want to keep to myself  as it's a very personal thing that is also a major part of finding myself as me. I want to see what happens and where the hormones take me and my heart. At least things don't seem so scary now. Small steps and all that...…..xx