2013. Featuring the Pink Monolith.

Have you read the book or watched the film 2001 - A Space Odyssey?  I won't relate the storyline as it's a little complex.  The story (in my opinion the film is better that the book) features a black monolith that was a stargate or portal to other existences, worlds or universes.

Until I get enough energy and drive to tidy up my rooms then to be able to unload my girl kit from it, the large pink suitcase resides in my garage.  It too is like the 2001 black monolith.  A symbol of a gateway to another world.  A world of glamour and fabulousness, of good friends and late nights.

The Pink Monolith Calls

I have now returned home to Essex.  Well, it's not quite true as I don't consider Essex my home, as I never really felt at home in Essex.  It's more of a stopping point in my life's journey.  I don't know whether I'll ever find a place I could call home.

It's been quite tough being back.  I was away for nearly every weekend from the end of February until I tumbled so the place is a mess.  I just about kept up with the essential washing, cleaning and paperwork but everything else had to be left.  The Lake District trip was the final sojourn before being back up there for a two day mountain event and the interim period was going to be my sort everything out time.  So much for future planning.  There's a lot to do and I find myself tiring quite quickly at the moment.  I know it will come together for me in time.  I'm not back at work yet, although working from home is suiting me well.

The past week or so has been quite interesting in that it has highlighted some mental issues I didn't realise I had.  It seems that for a few 'structures' (for want of a better word), I have lost the connection between them. I first noticed this when I was driving back from Heathrow, to see if I was OK for long distance driving.  Although I know the M4 motorway quite well, I could not recall the order of a number of junctions.  I knew which junctions were which but could not recall which junction we were going to come across next.  Once I passed the junctions all was OK.  Also this week, I was sorting out bank statements and could not remember what month came after July.  The August statement was in front of me, but I had to check on a calendar to work it out.  After sorting them out, I had no problem.  It's as if some connections have been temporary disconnected in my head.

I'm not too worried.  I was in London on Friday for my fifth laser treatment on the beard area.  An eight month spacing isn't the recommended interval but I had no choice!  It was very good of them to increase the period in which I had to use the sessions.  It went well.  I used some Emla cream around the goatee area this time too as well as the painkiller tablets I normally take beforehand.  It seemed to work.  I have quite a high pain threshold and only had to ask for a break twice because I was tensing up.  After that I had a wander through London.  I know the city reasonably well but there were a number of times I questioned myself why I was walking down a street because I did not remember what street was next.  I knew where I was going, it was that disconnection problem again.  It'll be interesting to see what happens on my next trip to the city.

I've made contact with a counsellor now.  I've just sent an email because it was easier for me to construct what I wanted to cover rather than the initial contact by phone.  My brain is still a confused jumble when considering at getting my life back together although it's a better now that there are a number of things I can sit and concentrate on. I'd like to bring up the gender aspects of my life.  Don't know if there's any subconscious trauma bubbling about in my head, but it would be a good thing to probe and ask questions to see if there is.  Since I've been back in Essex, I have had a number off good friends say how lucky I am to have come through this fall intact.  Now although it didn't affect me before, this statement now makes me uncomfortable when I hear it.  Similar to a feeling of paranoia.

In other news, the year started well when I won £20 of voucher in my local clothes shop.  I get on with the owner quite well so I thought that she had arranged the win for my return back home.  It seems not and it was just luck that my name was picked out of the hat at this time!  Another shopping spree there beckons and I'm hoping to do it in Tanya mode.

And finally…. (I'm getting to sound like Sir Trev McDoughnut now) the 'Our Different Journey' website is now up, running and is being populated with personal stories of the experiences of our lives from the viewpoint of being transgendered.  Crumbs that sounds long-winded.  Best for you to check the site out yourself  - Our Different Journey.

Where is my diatribe, you ask?  Well, err, the dog ate it.  Damn, that won't work as I don't have a dog…  I have written a story.  In fact, I have written a few.  For some reason, I am just not happy with what I've written.  I don't know if it's because I'm constructing a frame around my response from the question posed, albeit a very open question.  Or whether it's because I'm not someone who dwells too much on the past and doesn't particularly reference events that much.  I will publish a post, and most likely will still not be fully happy with it.  Watch this space.