Single, again.

163 days ago I went on a date. We went walking in the countryside to a place near Matlock called Cromford. On this date he was charming and a real gentleman. He held the branch back to let me through a particularly overgrown part of the path. I'm not sure why I remember this part of the whole date, maybe it's because I felt like a lady at that moment. I was the woman on a date for the first time in my life and it was a defining point in my transition.

     That first date quickly turned into a relationship and for the following 160 days I was so happy. We got on so well and seemed to fit brilliantly together. We talked about our future and made plans that stretched over the next few years. We seemed solid but looks can be deceiving as I've found out this week.

     On Sunday our relationship began to unravel. I'm not entirely sure why, in fact I'm at a real loss to explain what went wrong. Jamie just changed his mind about us or at least that's what it seems like. We talked on the phone and I kinda knew the writing was on the wall. He had to decide whether he could see a future for us. For me it was simple. I loved him and I only saw him in my future. The fact that he had to make this big choice was so worrying and kinda insulting. He shouldn't have needed to make a choice, it should've been simple. If he loved me then there was no choice. On Tuesday morning I had the end of our relationship confirmed in the worst and most cowardly of ways.

     The text message said that he didn't see a future for us and so he wanted us to just be friends. I still can't understand what went wrong. Being dumped by text message was so humiliating though and is something I'll never forgive him for. After 5 months I deserved more than a text! I deserved n explanation too and I'm still waiting on a satisfactory one of those. He said that he doesn't deserve me and that I could do better but I don't see that as being a logical explanation. Everything has crossed my mind. Did he have someone else? Did my transition suddenly become real? Was he pressurised by his parents? We were happy and I'll never understand why it's over because it's such a waste.

     I cried pretty much constantly throughout Tuesday and Wednesday. I worked both of those days and I'd find myself just bursting into tears at the most random of moments. My heart has been broken and it's going to take some time to get over it. Most of my friends have called Jamie a scumbag but I still love him and I still care so much for him. He was my world and nobody else matched up. Had he proposed I'd have married him, there was no competition. I will get over it and I will date again. I'll find someone else and I'll look back on this as a good thing. My mum said that I should get back on the dating site straight away but I'm not sure I can. I'd feel guilty, as though I'd be betraying my feelings for Jamie or something, which is stupid. It's how I feel though.

     I told Jamie that I regretted the past 5 months which is far from the truth. I kinda said it in the heat of the moment. My reasoning was that had the past 5 months not happened then I wouldnt have these memories that made me cry so much. I don't regret my time with Jamie though. It was a great thing to happen to me at a big time in my life. Being with him gave me confidence and gave me something else in life. It gave me hope that I could be genuinely happy. It may be over now and ii may have had my heart broken. I will get over him though, I'm one of life's survivors.

It's Gods Mistake To Rectify

 

     Its been a few days since I received my Pre-Surgery appointment through the post and this extra time has given me time to reflect. I tend to reflect on things alot when I'm not quite sure how to handle certain situations. It's as though I try to make sense of events in my past in the hope that it'll help me handle events that are happening now.

     I have an appointment at CHX and the fact that I have one so soon is the part I'm having trouble believing. I know that some people have to wait months and months for an appointment. These are the same people who spend years on NHS waiting lists endlessly hopping that they'll get to where I've gotten to in 2 years! To put this into context, when I first asked my therepist to refer me to a GIC back in December 2009 she looked into it. The waiting list at Sheffield GIC was 2 years just to get seen for an Initial Assessment appointment. Had I been put on that waiting list I would probably be still living my old life, waiting. I would be 2 - 3 years behind and probably wouldn't get a surgery date for another 2-4 years! As it stands I'm just a month away from getting a surgery date!

     Why have I had it so easy? Why have I been allowed to move on and live my life as I want? Is it divine intervention? I'm not a massive beliver of god or indeed of any higher being. If there was ever any cause for me to suddenly turn to religion then surely my transition would be it. It is as though the obsticals that would normally litter my path have been moved by some higher force. In all of my time that I've been full-time I've had one bit of trouble and that was 2 years ago! Infact in all the time I went out before I was full-time I rarely encountered any trouble. I have the support of my family and I'm in a loving relationship with a guy who is so supportive it's unreal. It's almost as though my present life is how it was meant to be. It's how it should've been, I have no doubt in my mind about that. It's as though someone knows they made a mistake and so they're letting me rectify it with the minimum of fuss. As I said, I'm not religious but sometimes even the strongest of non-believer has cause to rethink a few things.

     The fact that the next thing on my blog countdown widget will be my surgery date is a bit mental to me. It's slightly unbelievalble that I'm essentially on the home straight now and it's given me one or two things to think about. One of those things is what to do about this blog. I will still blog once I've fully transitioned but this blog may find itself surpless to requirements. I'd like to tell my life story properly and it may become a vehicle for that. I've got a while to think about it and I will continue to document my transition until such a time as I feel I no longer need to.

     The other thing I've begun to think about is my surgery and I've begun planning it in my mind. I've begun thinking about the things I'll need and even what to take into hospital with me. I'm actually saving some books for my hospital stay and even holding back on watching a few DVD's so I can save them for my hospital stay. I've even decided to tell my bosses the reason I'll be off work when the time comes. I'm reasonably sure they may know anyway but regardless, they'll know in due course. I had thought about telling them a lie or even quitting my job. I do like it there though and they like me. I kinda owe it to them to be honest. It is a long time to be off work and they need to know the real reason why.

     I'm probably going to be blogging a bit more over the coming weeks as my pre-surgery appointment draws near. I'm going to have a lot of questions I'm sure and I'm going to be reflecting a lot, that's for sure

It Came, Finally It Came!!!

The eagle eyed amongst you may have noticed that the countdown clock has started counting down again. That is because my letter finally arrived this morning. It was in a white envelope and said...

'I am pleased to inform you that an appointment has been made for you:

Date/Time: Thursday 20 SEPTEMBER 2012 AT 11:30
Clinic: Gender Identity Surgery
Location: 179-183 Fulham Palace Road above the
               Sainsburys Local on Greyhound Road

It's really strange, how I feel. I feel a bit relieved and a bit scared and a bit apprehensive. I'm actually more concerned about how I'm going to get there than I am about the actual appointment. I've had a quick look at trains and it shouldn't be too bad. The fact is that I have an appointment and I'll walk down there if I have too.

Please Mr Postman

     Today I got a brown envelope and for a moment I was filled with excitement. There's only one reason I'd be getting a brown envelope and for just a moment I imagined putting a new date into the countdown app. When I noticed the Nottingham postmark I knew that it couldn't be what I'd hopped and alas it was just a questionaire. The letter I'm waiting for should have a London or a Brighton Postmark and should contain details of an appointment with either Mr Bellringer or Mr Thomas.

     Each night, just as I turn into my street, I think for a moment that that letter will have arrived. I imagine how I'll feel when I read it, how I'll react. I imagine going into work and booking the time off and I imagine the train journey. I think about which book I'll take and then I realize that I'll probably be too nervous to read anything. I imagine meeting my future surgeon and I imagine what he'll sound like. I imagine coming out of his office and heading back home a surgical slot booked. The following six months fly by and I picture being on the ward, awaiting the surgery. I imagine the other people on the ward and I imagine the smell. I think about how I'll feel when I'm on my way into theater and I think about waking up after the op. For that moment, right before I pull my car onto the drive, I smile.

     That letter will arrive one day and that day can not come soon enough!

It's Gonna Hurt, Hurt Like Hell!

     Well, it's been a tough couple of weeks. Strange, really strange. Following the deaths of my school friends the other week, I've spent a lot of time mulling over my own mortality. No one expects to die at thirty do they? I've taken it for granted that I'll see seventy, maybe even eighty. If the past couple of weeks have taught me anything it's that we are all but a breath away from death, that none of us can take the time we have for granted.

     In other news, I've begun to think seriously about the genital hair removal I may need before my op. I'm expecting my letter from either Mr Thomas or Mr Bellringer to arrive within the next month so I do need to start thinking about the op and my preparations for it. Genital hair removal is an important part of the process as any untreated hair follicles could cause infection after the op. I may not need it but if I do, it could put the op back another six months and I'm not sure I want to take that chance. It is an expensive job but it is funded by the GIC (unlike facial hair removal). I'm not concerned about the cost though, I'm more concerned about the pain. Electrolysis involves needles being inserted into the hair follicle to 'kill' the follicle. That has to hurt, especially in those sensitive areas. It needs to be done though, that is for sure. It's just one in a long line of painful experiences I'll have been through for the ultimate goal of being normal.

     Outside the whole trans thing, I'm enjoying the olympics. What an opening ceremony, stunning, simply stunning! It's really strange seeing these sports being contested in this country but so inspiring. It's so tempting to buy a bike or start rowing lol. It is really inspiring though and I'm so proud of our competitors in Team GB.