Negative/Positive

Thinking: a sure way to drum up trouble where there is none.

Left Behind

I have three very dear friends locally, all of whom have been mentioned here in the past. One debuted with me, the other two I adopted quickly when they joined our local group. Great people, among the best friends I've ever had. They are all sprinting forward while I crawl.

One is well on her way to full-blown womanhood, including SRS. Another will be full-time within two years, and is at least half-time now. I just learned that the third is getting her letter, and will probably start hormones in December.

Me? I have probably peaked already. There may be minor tweaks I can make to feel or appear more feminine, but, really, if I maintain my marriage (and I plan to), nothing significant is even fathomable.

There was a low-budget film in the eighties(?) about The Rapture, in which people just disappeared, laughably leaving behind a pile of neatly folded clothes. I feel like my friends are true believers, in their identities, in their goals, in their will to get it done. In my eyes, they are getting "raptured", leaving behind neatly folded male clothing, going to a better place. I am left behind. Granted, that's a choice I'm making, and for me it seems a good choice. Still, I feel some sadness watching my friends living my dreams.

Skinny Bitch

I am opening myself up for criticism here, but I'm going to say it anyway, because it's been on my mind for weeks. I'm gaining weight and I'm very unhappy about it.

Some history: Two years ago, I was close to 180. At almost 6'2", that felt a little beefy, but I was the only one who noticed. From October 2007 to February 2008, I fretted off about 25 pounds when the GID took hold and wouldn't let go. I got as low as 152. Way too bony. Once I started with therapy, Zoloft, and a support group, I stabilized mentally, and the weight loss stopped. I don't recommend losing weight this way.

I got my weight back up around 160, and there I've stayed until recently. My favorite clothes (specifically the female ones) fit me pretty well in that weight range. Now bad eating habits have formed, and I'm pushing 170. Yeah, I know, cry me a river. But I can't button my skirts around my waist now. I'm still a couple months away from wearing skirts around other people, assuming I work out a deal regarding leg shaving this winter. But I desperately want to be able to wear the tiny collection of clothes that I have.

I am now making a deliberate attempt to change my eating habits, cutting out some carbs, adding more fresh fruit and protein, reduce empty calories. And tonight, I started walking. I took a brisk 30 minute walk, which I figure is about two miles. As I walked, I listened to Rockpile's Seconds of Pleasure, which I just downloaded yesterday. Love that record.

I don't intend to bore anyone regularly with diet/weight news, because my problems are not going to elicit sympathy from most folks, and frankly, I usually won't read about the subject on other people's blogs. Weight issues hold no interest for me, and I'm certain my weight will soon be forgotten by everyone but me, as it should be. My blog, my thoughts, my therapy. Bring on the hate mail if you must. I won't be your whipping girl after today.

See what I mean? Too much time to think and nothing important to think about.