I dunno.

In a lot of ways I’ve gone through this all before.

And by that I don’t mean coming out of the closet, or even my transition.  I mean the drama of being in a persecuted group.

Frankly, I’m rather tired of the drama.

So along comes “Transgender Day of Remembrance”.  Honestly, I didn’t even know it existed until I started becoming more of a part of the transgender community.  Which I only started doing as I more accepted myself.  And it shouldn’t come as a surprise.  If there’s one thing that humans do, it’s drama.

But really, I’m fairly well past that.  Been there.  Done that.  Got sick of it.  After all, I’m a witch.  So I’ve had my share of “Don’t forget the burning times.“

Honestly, does anyone really think that holding on to hate is a good idea?

Because, ultimately, that’s all that it’s really about.

You can claim that it’s about sorrow, about honoring people’s suffering, and so on.  It’s not.  It’s about not letting go of the hate.  The hatred that drove people to do awful things.  The hatred that we feel for people who do awful things.

If we really want to make the world a better place, shouldn’t we focus our efforts on better emotions, like love?  Like peace?  Like joy?

Doesn’t someone have to “be the bigger (wo)man” at some point if we really want things to get better?

So I say it’s time for a Day of Forgetfulness.  It’s time to let things go.  It’s time to let go of the hate.

Every day countless people are injured and killed in all sorts of same-on-same violence.  But we don’t look at that, because we can’t call that a “hate crime”.  And so for our own self-justification we play up the hatred, because persecution is something we can understand.  Often we don’t even bother asking why someone did something.  We just draw our own conclusions from the victim.  The general evilness of mankind is the elephant in the room that we try so hard to put a sheet over.  And the ridiculousness of it all is in its own way an insult to us all.

Violence is not about the victim.  Anyone who wants to hurt someone can find a victim that meets their needs.  Violence is about the aggressor.  Violence is about someone who doesn’t have their shit together, who was probably hurt in some way themselves.  Violence is about someone who choose a poor way to handle releasing their own emotional problems.  Violence is a disease.  The victims are merely symptoms.

If we truly wanted to make the world a better place, we’d concentrate on that.  We’d work on curing the disease, not on “remembrance” of the symptoms.  Because without the disease, there’d be no more symptoms to remember.

What the world needs more of, are people who can love.  People who you can talk to.  People who will listen.  People who help.

Instead of spending so much time being a victim, spend some time being a helper.  Put the same amount of energy that you would into the drama into reaching out, to family, to friends, to your community.  If you feel a need to do something to make the world a better place, donate your time or money or old clothes or a beat up old car or whatever you can afford to a charity.  Help real live people.  With a little more love and caring in the world, maybe, just maybe, you’ll somehow through this great collective work we call society, make it possible to help the next rapist or murderer get in touch with their own feelings and problems before (s)he becomes a rapist or murderer.

I know it’s not as gratifying to work torward theoretically preventing something horrible from happening.  We like to focus on the things that we’re sure of, like helping a victim.  And certainly, help victims.  But help everyone else too.  The person that you might have unknowingly saved in your good works of love will never know your name, but their life and the lives of everyone who loves them are going to be much better for it than anything you can ever do for the family and friends of someone who was already victimized.  An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.  If you help someone, and they help someone else, and so on, what good you do can be a catalyst to improve the lives of many people you’ll never even meet.  Without knowing it you could be the very spark that starts a chain reaction to help cure the man who was going to kill you, but now has found a safe release for his own problems.

So I say let’s work on forgetting the hatred of the past, and letting go of the negativity.  And for goodness sake, let’s stop being drama queens.  Instead of focussing on the bad, let’s focus on the good we can do.  Let’s make our world a better place, one where if we all try hard enough, we can cure any need for remembering, because we’ll have helped cure people’s harms before they grow into evils.

Let’s stop being “us”.  Let’s stop worrying about “them”.  Let go of the segregation that your own good intentions perpetuate.  And embrace simple love for your fellow human being.  We’re all part of the same society.  We’re all stuck on this planet together.  Every day we encounter more people than we’ll ever remember, and just like you, they also need someone to listen to their problems, to help in many countless ways.  Just that little bit can go a long way.

That’s what I do.  And I invite you to do it too.  Stop being a victim, and start being a cure.

You ever reach that point where you just don’t know what you’re doing?  Where you’re so … blah … that it makes you want to scream, except you just don’t have the energy to?

I dunno.

I’m pretty sure that I’m depressed.

Or something.

It doesn’t help that I’m fighting up the nerve to just even talk to a doctor about beginning my transition.  Or fighting up the nerve to tell my wife that I want to.  To honestly, seriously, start.  I just … I dunno.  So many people I care about, my wife, my sister, my mom, my whole family … even if some of them do accept it, I know I’ll still hurt them.  I think my wife and maybe one cousin will be the only people in my life to even try to accept it from the beginning.  I think a handful more will come around … eventually.  But I really don’t want to hurt people.  And I especially don’t want to lose what I have with my wife.

So which is worse?  Hurting people I love to be me, or hurting me to save the people I love?

And then it gets more complicated because, no doubt, I’m only going to be less and less lovable if I can’t get myself out of my funk.

But is transition really the answer?

I’d like it to be.  But that doesn’t necessarily make it so.  I’m 100% certain that if I make the transition, I’m never ever going to want to go back.  That doesn’t worry me, at all.  But it’s the middle ground, the journey, that scares me.  Because at some point I’d have to “come out”.  To my family.  To my coworkers.  (Which I hope to one day have again.)  Hell, to the DMV and Uncle Sam and Big Brother.  Plus there’s the money, which right now I really don’t have.

That’s another thing that’s got me down.  Right now I’m technically an independent software contractor between contracts.  But I’m not really looking for contracts anymore.  I’m looking to get back into regular employment.  I miss having coworkers.  I miss socializing.  I miss people.

So I’m not just depressed over my qualms about the transition.  I’m also depressed about applying for tons of jobs and being rejected.  (Which I can’t explain, because I’m damn good and been doing it for 13 years.)  And I’m depressed about having no social life whatsoever other than my wife.  Which also brings up another one, that my wife is having health problems.  And that those health problems are really hindering our sex life, which lately seems to be about once a month.

And, of course, I still have that damn monkey on my back as society’s unacceptance of gender bending gives me so much self loathing.  Can’t forget that.  I know that I shouldn’t hate myself for being who I am.  That I should just be able to tell society to go to hell and how to get there because I have every right to be me.  But aparently I can’t.

Which is actually … odd.  I’m not sure how else to express that.  I love me.  I mean I really love me.  Some of the most wonderful things that I love about me come from my femininity.

And yet I hate me for being just another woman trapped in a man’s body.  The world’s tiniest violin, playing just for me.  How sad.

See?

I mean, WTF?!

I really don’t understand.  Why do I hate myself for that?  And how can I hate myself for that, but love myself in everything else?

So I try hard not to escape into video games.  And instead I think I’m escaping into my blog.  Which I don’t know if I should resent or not.  But obviously I’ve got to escape into something because sitting around being depressed constantly doesn’t make for much of an improvement.  I am depressed.  I need to express it, deal with it, and find a way to move on.

But saying and doing are sooooo totally different.

I tried to escape into working on my house today.  It’s a brick house, but some overhangs are wood.  The paint is so incredibly many layers thick, and coming off in chips.  So it all needs to be stripped down to wood and painted anew.  I scraped the hell out of it.  And then I got my paint removing wire brush drill tip going.  And managed to work on that for a couple of hours before the flying paint dust just bugged my eyes too much.  I need goggles.  Or maybe SCUBA gear.  But so I tried to escape into something productive, and I even couldn’t do that right.

I want to say that I’m such a loser.  Only I refuse to say it, because I’m not.  I’m not a loser.  And I’m not going to give in to self-pity like that.  I’m better than that.

But fuck if I don’t want to just curl up into a ball on my bed and just cry my heart out until I collapse to sleep right now.

Why does life have to be so fucking hard some times?  Why can’t something go right for me for a change?  Why does everything have to hit all at once?  One thing, I can take.  Two things, I can take.  Three even I could maybe juggle.  But shit!  Did I mention I also have a house on the market that I just took off the market so that I can say screw it, cut the utilities and winterize it?  I’m pretty much just living on my savings right now, and my wife’s income is paying not just our house, but my old house as well!  I don’t feel as bad as I should about that because contractors intentionally save up for those dry spells between contracts, so I’m still technically paying my half of life.  But I’d feel infinitely better if I just had some real money coming in again instead of chump change from micro-contracts and shit work.

I dunno.  I’m ranting like a loon.  But then, that’s fair, since I am losing it right now.

And you know what’s really got my nerves right now?  Besides all of this shit?  Is that here I have this blog, and there’s like 30 visits a day.  I’m so very thankful for those of you who do visit and leave such nice comments.  You really make my day.

But what bugs me about that, is that days when I go on and on about sex, suddenly I see tons more visits.  I mean why don’t I just turn this blog into tranny porn?  I mean fucking hell!  What kind of sick twisted world is this when sex is so much more important to people than life?

I dunno.

It shouldn’t make me so mad.  That’s just the internet.  Porn, porn, and more porn.  Google search for bunnies, sunshine, and lollipops and you get “See super busty Bunny Girl stick a lollipop up her twat.”  That’s just the internet.

But I so don’t want that to be my blog.  I’m a real person, with a real life.

But damned if I don’t sometimes want that validation.  If I don’t sometimes consider pandering to the public at large by just writing about dicks and clits and nipples and vaginas and labias and vibrators and dildos oh my!

I guess it’s a good thing that I’m an ugly as sin woman.  It at least provides that extra measure of sanity check to keep me from wagging the ol’ willy in front of my camera.

Well, anyway…

Sorry for the basically senseless rant.  Maybe I’ll even delete it.  Or maybe I’ll just keep it for posterity.  I can look back one day when I’m going through changes on my HRT, my wife still loves me, I’ve got a good job, and am down to just one mortgage, and I’ll get to laugh and laugh.

Meanwhile, I think the bed is calling.  Time for that cry.

I just signed up for an Adult FriendFinder account.  Same name: HinkyCorners.  I’m feeling a little out of sorts.

(For those not in the know, AFF is a place where grown-ups hook-up at the drop of a hat.  It’s pretty much all about getting laid.)

I love my wife.  And she used to satisfy me sexually.  Lately though …  She’s been through a lot of tough times because of her job, and because she’s having some weird health issues with inflamed joints.  Sex is rarely if ever lately.  It’s about to the counting monthly point.  I wish I didn’t have a libido.  I wish I didn’t need more than that.  I’d like to not need more than that.

I mean I shouldn’t feel guilty.  I’ve had three real sex partners in my whole life.  My wife has had … well … I try not to mentally count.  She’s had more fun than I have, let’s put it that way.  And so we talked about it.  She even told me once to go out and “get more experience”.  I know that to her, sex is sex and love is love.  I even promised her that if I wasn’t enough for her, if she needed other partners, that I would be okay with that.  Because when we met, she lived a much more … entertained lifestyle than I did.

And we both believe that we can love more than one person at a time.

So I’m 99.999% positive that if I just asked her, she’d say go forth and have fun.  Just be smart and stay clean.

But I worry.  I don’t think she’s ever really be “in love” until me.  I don’t want to hurt her.

But then I also don’t know that I’m going to have sex with anyone just because I signed up for AFF.  The last time I did, I made new friends.  Friends I never had sex with.  And right now that’s really all I want, I think, are just some friends.

Part of me though just wonders some times.  Am I missing anything?

And then I really worry about what if I hooked up with a man.  And what if I liked it?  How would my wife take me wanting sex that she doesn’t even have the equipment for?

But then I tell myself that I’m just being silly.

I think what really has me down is that I just don’t want to bring her down any while she’s already feeling down.  I don’t want her to feel guilty.

Love is hard.

And then there’s that other issue.  Me becoming a woman.  I tell myself that I don’t do it because I’d make an ugly woman.  But honestly, with enough hormone therapy and surgery, I bet I’d be fine.  Money, of course, is an issue.  In that I just don’t have that kind of money right now.  But much more than that, I know my wife isn’t bisexual.  She’s not attracted to women.  So I’m pretty sure if I became a woman, if I made the transition, then our marriage would be over.

And so I have to ask myself, which is more important?  My happiness from love?  Or my happiness from being a woman trapped in a man’s body?

I honestly don’t know.

Lately though, I’ve been wondering about finding some half-way middle ground.  Maybe just hormone therapy would let me feel better, and give me just enough edge to crossdress outside of the home on occasion.

The funny thing is, as a man, I look pretty awful without my facial hair.  But as a woman I’d look hideous with it.  Even if I shaved, the stubble under the skin is so dark you just can’t hide it.  And then there’s the body hair.

I shaved my legs a couple of weeks ago on a whim.  It was the first time I ever did it.  It took forever.  It was a huge pain in the ass.  But gods did it feel good once it was done.  The skin was so incredibly sensitive to touch.  And the smoothness felt so right.

**sigh**

So, I don’t know.  I just don’t know.  How far can I press being a woman before my marriage suffers?  How far will it take to satisfy that part of me?  Do I just experiment and hope and pray?

I’ve heard that there are herbal things to take.  To be honest, that scares me a little though.  Normally I’m all for herbal remidies in place of drugs, because the human body recognizes, say, crushed leaves as food.  Where as a condenssed pill of chemicals is basically a pebble.  I’m all for the holistic whenever it makes sense.

But HRT sounds more like it’s a major shock to the system, not just a quaint small amount.  So to match that in herbs, you’d have to consume tons and tons of them.  Which has got to both cost a lot and be dangerous to screw around with without a doctor.  So if you’re going to bring in a doctor for safety, then I think in this case taking actual medicine is a safer way to go.

But then what do I know?  My experience in this is squat!  I dunno…

So many choices.  So many ways to screw up.  I wish I just had the confidence to go forward and feel good about it.  Why is life so full of crap like this?

Anyone who has sat through enough New Age discussion groups has got to have heard by now of the book title I’m reversing in my blog entry title.  And you’re probably already grasping the direction my words are rambling towards. I’ve talked enough about other aspects of myself.  I might as well start talking about my spiritual side. I’ve decided, through long attempts, that although I am an energy healer, a Reiki Master, certified in Magnified Healing, and familiar with aspects of many other modalities, that I am in fact not a light worker.  Oh sure, I can sit down and talk with the lightest of them, and hold my own quite well.  And often I wish, I really really wish, that I could be that nieve and hopefull and innocent. Sometimes I even am dangerously innocent. But I’m dark. But I’m an optimistic and helpful dark. Or something like that. Honestly, some times all of that sugar in the New Age fluff makes my teeth hurt. And most of the time I find myself wishing it were all just that easy. I’m a nice guy.  I’m a good person. But I often find myself amazed at how I am so for all the wrong reasons. If that makes any sense.  If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, is the opposite true?  Can the road to heaven be paved with bad intentions? Don’t get me wrong.  I have good intentions in there too.  Especially when it involves people I love.  And I do love, so very much.  And there are times when I do enjoy life greatly. But so much of my soul just seems steeped in darkness. And lately it’s been leaking out.  Which has me a bit concerned.  A few times, like when watching TV, I make a comment on how the bad guy went wrong, how if it’d been my, I’d have done it this way or that way instead.  It just comes out of my mouth unbidden.  And the sad part is, I know it’s true.  That were I in such a situation, that’s exactly what I would do.  And so I know deep within me is very dangerous potential. Fortunately for the world, I know that my existence on Earth this time through the reincarnation wash cycle is that I’m here to re-learn love.  It’s something I lost many lifetimes ago, that belief in love.  It’s something that, if anything, I’m being beaten with this time through. Gods, my first marriage was a nightmare.  I loved her.  And she loved me, at first.  But as the years passed and she wasted her life away while I supported her in every way possible, not just financially, but emotionally, intellectually, and so forth … as time marched on and she just sat there doing nothing for herself, she began to resent where her life was at.  And instead of taking it upon herself to fix what she wasn’t happy with, she began to take it out on me.  She began to blame me.  And years of growing emotional abuse later, I finally had to tell her it was over.  Of course she’d began having an affair with some guy in order to force the issue, but even then she couldn’t just be honest with me.  And the sad thing was, even through the divorce I forced us to take, I still loved her. Fortunately I learned to accept that I loved the her that she used to be.  I didn’t love the her that she was.  And so that helped me get through that. And even more fortunately, I found someone else to love.  Someone who accepts me for me, in ways my first wife never did.  I mean for the first time, at least at home, I can dress myself up as pretty as I feel inside and be something close-ish to the woman I am. But I am all things.  I may be woman inside.  But I am also man inside.  I may be a loving and devoted husband, to a flaw – which is a sad thing that love could even be a flaw – but I am also a cold-hearted son of a devil. I’ve noticed about myself that I am whatever the situation calls for.  If a leader is needed, I lead.  If a follower is needed, I follow.  If a man is needed, I’m male.  If a woman is needed, I’m her.  If love is needed, I’m a giver.  If ruthlessness is needed, I’ll put one in the head, just to be sure.  Because you always should be sure.  If a healer is needed, I can be an instrument of Quan Yin.  If a warrior is needed, just let me grab my sword and I’ll be right over.  If a friend is needed I’m not just there to help you move, but I’ll even steam clean your urine-soaked carpet to help you keep your security deposit.  (The Goddess knows, I’ve proved that one!)  If a beating is needed, I’ll draw blood if necessary.  If a listener is needed, I’ve a shoulder to cry on.  I’m sure by now you’ve more than gotten the idea. I have a lot of potential to help the world.  Because I choose to.  But it’s not always an easy choice.  I don’t even know that I do it often for the right reasons.  There’s a lot of dark in my soul.  I feel more like an old soul being rehabilitated than like a good person doing good deeds. And deep down, sometimes, oft times, I’m just so damn tired of it all. But if anything, I don’t give up, simply because I know if I do, I’ll just have to go through it all again anyway. See what I mean about all the wrong reasons?  What kind of reasoning is it to not commit suicide because you just know you’ll have to go through puberty again just to get to the same point you left off at?  How fucked up is that? I mean, yeah, I look forward to the enjoyable times my wife and I can spent together.  I know life has something to offer.  But honestly … it’s fucking exhausting too.  Just because I want to look forward to the good doesn’t mean I don’t simultaneously know there’s going to be plenty of  bad as well. So I try to fight the good fight.  I try to be the light in the darkness.  But always, always, is the darkness right there with me, a part of me.  And all too often I worry if it shadows my light maybe a bit too much.

Come to the dark side.