Aug. 18th, 2017 03:23 pm
These past few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity as I continue working out in the garden and maintaining the beauty out there. Bethany has been up and down, and so have I, I suppose, because she is one of those people who constantly needs someone around to talk at. Emotionally, I have been finding myself thinking about suicide a lot, a thought which stuns me because I really think that where I am at right now is okay. I’m stable, and yet these thoughts rip through me. I don’t think I would do anything to hurt myself, but that I am having these thoughts is troubling, and I really need to think about what strategies I can use to push them aside. It is like how I used to not be able to control my own thoughts. I mean, I really had a problem with it. I felt like my mind and my body were disconnected.
Reading what I’ve just written makes me uncomfortable, mainly because I am discussing feelings here, and he problem with feelings are that they are often unstable and I have been taught since I was a kid that feelings are not important or that they are not something to be entertained. I’ve been instructed since childhood that my feelings aren’t important, and the problem today is that feelings are something that ‘special snowflakes’ discuss, according to the macho macho people. There is a right way to think about this and a wrong way to think about this, and I think that believing that feelings are useless or not worth discussing is one extreme, and the other extreme is to allow myself to be consumed by them.
Part of this can be attributed to Bethany’s way of idealizing me, and then devaluing me. Her goal, it appears, is to try and get me to believe that my own way of thinking is wrong, that Bethany is the only person who can teach me my self-worth even though I should be able to stand on my own two feet and look her in the eyes and say that I don’t need her approval or confidence because God has given me my own. Another large part of this could be attributed to the fear I have that God will punish or deal with me harshly. He has not yet, but that fear is always there and has always been there.
Finished setting up the guitar pedal order for the Kustom; it goes from the four-way into my tuner, then the compressor, harmonic clipper, the Equalizer, Boost, then Trem/Vibe, then into the volume pedal, into the delay pedal, and out to the amp. Alice shut down on me last night. It looks like a transistor went. I’m sure it’s not a huge deal, and I’m sure to fix it later on tonight or tomorrow.
I’ve been calling about my birth records, if only to solve this whole intersex issue; what fascinates me is that I never noticed that the underside of my genitals is a ton of scar tissue and there is an area in the middle of the scrotum sack that looks like it was stitched back together. I want to know what happened to me; while the inguinal hernia may have been undescended testicles, I believe what happened was I had what is called chordee, coupled with hypospadias, and undescended testicles. Looking at the surgery I had at seven, it is possible they removed a uterus from inside me. I have never felt, looked or acted like a boy, and puberty was a killer for me emotionally and mentally.
Now I am transitioning, and I really wish I had done this years ago. I wish that I had discussed this with my parents and transitioned as a teenager before I had records at college or a full-time job.
(Was supposed to be posted on Monday)
I have reached the inescapable conclusion that I was not supposed to have gotten married. This does not come from the desire to be divorced, but from the incredible amount of pain that I experience thinking about how Bethany is losing her husband. Bethany does not seem to notice; she is more interested in making sure that she is heard and that she is able to continue her babbling. This morning, I listened to her going on and on about this person and that person, and I tried hard to follow but it is very hard to stay in tune with someone when they are rambling and especially when they are rambling negatively about someone.
I would start with God. God knew that I would learn that I was born intersex. God knew that when the transgender issue came to light I would realize that I had been struggling with this for most of my life. God knew that my kidneys were getting negatively impacted by testosterone. God knew that I would want to request my birth records and start transitioning. God knew that this would impact my relationship with other people and that I would want to move away and get a fresh start. This is why He repeatedly told me while I was still living with my father not to get too comfortable, because He would be leading me elsewhere. It’s my fault that I didn’t listen. I didn’t listen because I was too busy caring more about what my family thought of me than I did what God wanted. It is my hope that, over the next few months or so, God will lead me through prayer and show me what He wants me to do. It is clear that my purpose in life is tied to this, and it is clear that He has a purpose for me to be involved in the intersex community in some way, perhaps to show others compassion and encourage them that they are loved by God and that God has a purpose for their lives.
I need to stop being so involved in the trans community. Clearly there is a trans-like experience that I am going through but it goes above and beyond that, and rather than being rooted in a psychological aspect (and I am not entirely convinced that being transgender and having gender dysphoria is a form of intersexuality that impacts the brain but not the body), there is a biological component, one which forms the very core of who I am and who I was born to be. The problem I have is that there is a natural desire to not just express oneself as trans but become more involved in the community, perhaps to the point where someone like myself will slowly move away from God and his/her convictions. I have, however, begun commenting on articles about my intersex condition, etc. While I am not ashamed of who I am, I must be careful not to stray out of the will of God.
For example, here is a comment someone made to a recent article, and my response:
James Ward
Casolari stated, "Since 2000, conservatism has been in retreat. For those who believe in limited government, freedom, the rule of law, secure borders, lawful immigration, traditional values and a restrained foreign policy, the past two decades show very little accomplishment." When biblical foundations are destroyed, there isn't anything solid to stand upon to begin with. Our Christian leaders do not know right from wrong, which is why they advocate regulating evil instead of not giving it any place in their lives. They also tend to endorse things that are evi while thinking it is good. For example, James Dobson and Focus on the Family spend decades leading America away from absolute morality under the banner of Christianity. "Equal rights, not special right," was whose slogan? Focus on the Family. How has that worked for biblical family values? When try to normalize criminal behavior and it becomes a "legal" standard that is then used to punish faithful Christian bakers, photographers, et cetera. I agree that everyone deserves the same right to be prosecuted for grossly undermining public morality, but nobody's prefered perversion entitles anyone to be accepted or their behavior decriminalized. If the hippie free-love movement taught us anything, it would be that what is done in the bedroom does not stay in the bedroom: it affects public and civil matters and can undermine the family when perverse.

Absolute morality, mala in se laws, do not change or bend to situations and they do not conflict among themselves. Symbolic or regulatory or mala prohibita laws can change, are not absolute, can bend to situations, and can even conflict among themselves (i.e. profane the Sabbath to circumcise). When leaders treat absolute morality as if they are mala prohibita matters, you have no firm foundation to advance public morality. When Exodus and Pauline passages teach earmarks required for anyone taking an office affect public perception of morality and we violate them to "keep the other person from winning," we are not only undermining our own moral foundations, but giving God no reason to step influence the results of whatever outcome we end up with.
Like · Reply · Jul 29, 2017 9:01am

Stacy Sedgewood-Curran ·
University of Massachusetts Boston, Higher Education Program
I think part of the issue is the attitude with which the message is preached. There seems to be very little compassion amongst Christians today. The argument against people who are transgender, for example, was to say that we don't want men in the women's bathrooms. Even Christians who are conservative, whom I spoke with, had a problem with this argument. There are indecency laws that make it criminal for a male to go into the women's room with a sinister purpose. There was nothing said against transgender men, females who transitioned, and there was nothing said against men who were already in the men's room with young boys.

This message also had the unintended consequence of alienating people like myself - who were born intersex (I was born both male and female) and later transitioned due to medical concerns (renal failure from testosterone). This may not seem like a big deal, but when you start alienating 1% or 2% of the population, you don't just alienate them - they have friends and family members who can clearly see the damage, and that 2% starts becoming 5%. At election time, we can see the impact that this can have at the voting booth.

You wrote: "I agree that everyone deserves the same right to be prosecuted for grossly undermining public morality, but nobody's prefered perversion entitles anyone to be accepted or their behavior decriminalized."

This almost sounds like you are advocating a witch-hunt for people who might be enjoying 'The L -word' or 'Sex in the City' at night. While you are correct that what goes on in the bedroom does not always stay in the bedroom, does this mean you advocate for us to go back to Puritan times, when everything and everyone was suspect?
I’ve begun to get more involved in the intersex discussion, not because I don’t want to be involved in the transgender community, but because I think that is more closely aligned with who I am and who I am supposed to be. I have started doing more research on the genital mutilation that those who are born intersex go through, and it seems more and more disgusting to me as time goes on. One of the biggest issues for me is the lack of sensation when I have sex, which may be from a nerve severed from when I had surgery.
I mentioned this to Bethany, who thinks that I don’t know for sure, even about Klinefelter’s, but I think that her denial stems more from the fact that I’m standing up for myself and using my voice, which is a no-no in this shitty marriage. I shared some things yesterday about intersex, and I noticed that I had set my posts on Facebook to not let Bethany see them. I took this off, and sure enough, I got confronted about posting these things this morning. Couple this with the Sunday episode where B told me that she had seen how I posted to someone else’s post about how I liked Creedence, and you get a pretty clear picture that B just wants me quietly sitting there listening to her.
I wouldn’t mind, but I have to listen to her babble about her family, which is about as interesting as sports. She tells me that when I’m talking about being intersex, it’s all about me, but she’s doing this genealogy stuff for her ‘family’ – none of which really give a shit about it. To me, it’s just more of an excuse for her to be talking about herself. Look what *she* researched, look what *she* found. Look at her! Look at her! Anything I do that might detract from her being in the spotlight is suspect, and this includes teaching conferences.
This morning someone had posted about there being a transgender conference in Boston coming up, focusing on education, etc. I have been praying about this for some time, and wanting to get back into publishing about education, etc. I shared this with Bethany – big mistake; she told me she didn’t think it was a good idea because I still teach at Liberty. While she is correct – I still teach at Liberty, what I have to automatically wonder is if she is being sincere in her concerns, or if she knows that if I get back into publishing and presenting, the spotlight will be once again off her. It bothered her for some time that people were actively reaching out to me for my insight and my views on this and that, and she felt slighted. Now, she thinks she’s in charge, but only because she isn’t aware that I’m still publishing on Medium as Stacy Sedgewood.
I hate living a double life; I feel like I’m 5-16 again and pretending to be a girl online, even though that is who I truly am on the inside, but if this little freedom is what I am granted right now, I am okay with that. I desire to be free. I desire for true freedom, and God through Christ has indeed set me free. The problem is that now there are so many forces who want me to go back into the closet. Those who are closest to us are always okay with you when you are lying to yourself as long as they are comfortable. Bethany loves to say that I need to ‘step it up’ and help her out, and then I start to, and she seems to get more and more agitated, because if I do help out more and more, she won’t have anything to start screaming and yelling at me about. And this is why I love being at work so much. This is why I hate living under the same roof as this woman. She is a shrew, I married my mother, and I know it.
Part of me does feel guilty about a lot of things. I feel guilty because B does have to deal with my issues. I feel guilty that she married someone who is or was very weak emotionally. She married someone who can’t hear her, which frustrates her to no end, and she married someone who is essentially a doormat. Yet a lot of these things aren’t necessarily my fault – entirely. I am who I am, and while Bethany expects me to change everything just to make her happy, there is an underlying understanding that I can’t expect her to do anything to change. Nope! I bring something up, and she will bring up about twenty or thirty of my shortcomings in order to justify that she can continue to treat me like crap. I start talking about how her comments make me feel, and I’m not allowed to finish my statement. I can’t; she interrupts and essentially tells me that it’s my fault I feel a certain way.
What really bothers me, above all else, is my relationship to God. It has indeed been a series of rises and falls since realizing I was trans; it’s far better than the stagnant Christian I once was. I remember crying out to God for His help because I couldn’t feel anything, had no joy, no peace, etc., and really didn’t know who I was as a person. Now, I know exactly who I am – in Christ. I can honestly say that to die is gain and to live is Christ. I can now see that when I got married, I clearly stepped outside of the will of the Lord, because He showed me not to get too comfortable living with my father because He was going to call me out of Massachusetts. My prayer, my heartfelt prayer, is that God will forgive me and show me His purpose – that He will lead me. Just because Bethany doesn’t see my purpose doesn’t mean I don’t have one.
In other news, Trump banned transgender people from serving in the military. Texas has enacted transgender bathroom bill bans, and I am sure that there will be many more of these things popping up all over the country, to discriminate against people like us. If I go into a restaurant and am seen as trans, will I be asked to leave? Who knows, but it’s a scary time to be in the United States.


Jul. 17th, 2017 03:02 pm
Yesterday was my birthday, and I must say that it was probably one of the best birthdays that I have had in a long time. Jack, Cristy, Manford, Gail, Emma, and Luke came up from New Jersey to celebrate. I showed Manford and Jack around the yard, and kind of showed how I would be doing things. Jack suggested using sand for leveling the patio blocks and getting those blocks in without causing a problem with pulling individual ones out and making sure they lined up. I’m going to take his advice seriously; he told me he was doing much the same thing with his own backyard, but with stones that have a serious rounding to the back of them.
B and I were a bit testy with one another yesterday, and I think it was because of the preparation for the party. I did help out a bit, but the screaming and yelling meant I wanted to be elsewhere. You can’t scream at people and expect them to want to be around you; it just doesn’t work that way. We did make up, and this morning (again) we were arguing but made up again.
Last night the compressor pedal came in (Donner) and the day before, the loop pedal came in. The fuzz pedal came in last week. This morning I was busy fooling around with it, overdubbing multiple tracks. I think I can make an entire album out of one or two of those looping pedals. I’ve removed the ‘mid-range’ section (for now) until I figure out what will be going to be plugged into the Fender Concert, but I’ve also gotten most of the pedals I need so far to nail Creedence’s tone through the Kustom. There are pedals out there that replicate the sound of the Kustom, but I really don’t need them because I actually have a Kustom.
Signal Chain for the Kustom:
1. Amp (Kustom 200A4)
2. Loop Pedal (will order later)
3. Reverb (will order today)
4. Tap Tone Delay
5. Amptweaker Swirlpool
6. EQ pedal (coming in today)
7. Fuzz Box (on its way)
8. OCD
9. Compressor
10. Four-way box
11. Guitar.
Signal Chain for the Twin:
1. Looper
2. Reverb
3. Delay
4. JHS Twin Twelve (Silvertone Amp Sim)
5. POG
6. Stylish Fuzz
7. Digitech Whammy IV
8. MXR Micro-Amp
9. Tuner
10. Four-way Box

Not sure about the midrange of the Concert. Not even sure if I really need it; there seems to be a great combination with the two amplifiers in tangent. I might split the signal between the Vibrolux, which is very bright, and the Twin, which can get very dark-sounding.

Bethany told her mother what is going on with me; she seemed unfazed by the fact that I am intersex; it’s less about being male or female and more about being okay at this point. It is my hope that, in the future, I will be able to live as a female rather than as a miserable, feminine-looking guy, but I don’t see it happening. At least I’m on hormones, and at least there have been considerable changes both to my body and face. I’ve been reading a memoir of someone born with both, and she describes how she would have such severe cramping she would wind up in the hospital. I know that I had severe stomach cramping, etc. and was hospitalized as a child, and so that makes sense. She transitioned, as well; her marriage ended rather quickly, and while I don’t necessarily want my marriage to end, there is a part of me that desires to be free from the constraints of being told what to do all the time.


Jul. 9th, 2017 12:29 pm
I know I haven’t written in a while, and there’s a reason for it. At work I’ve been devoting more time to studying intersex issues while grading. Liberty University ended yesterday or Friday, and so I’ve been busy grading and staying outside, because being outside saves me from having to sit there and listen to the continual babbling from B, who I am becoming more and more convinced is a psychopath. Everything I do or say is criticized, and any time I open my mouth, you can just see her expression melt because she doesn’t want me to be talking, ever. She wants me listening, and that’s it.
The only bright spot was yesterday when B and I went yard saling; I love going to yard sales but hate going with her because she loves to complain and it’s just more of the same of me sitting there listening to my faults in dull and dreary detail. Anyway, at the first yard sale we went to, we heard, ‘girls, there’s more over here…’ meaning us. That made me so happy! Of course, today, I was trying to put my arm around B and knocked something on this table behind me over, and that immediately caused her psycho side to come out. There is never a mistake with me; it’s always on purpose or because I’m stupid, etc. As much as I do love B, there is an understanding that this marriage needs to end so I can move on with my life, because it is only going to get worse.
I need to start organizing my two rooms better; while I know where most everything is, they are both very cluttered. Ordered a new fuzz pedal yesterday; hopefully it will do what the Big Muff pedal does. I think I’ll be doing some kind of looper pedal from with a payment plan.
This weekend went pretty well, surprisingly, considering how B and I often get at each other’s throats by the end. We decided not to go to an estate sale on Thursday, and I spent a considerable part of the day working on various projects, eventually installing four more of those blocks as a walkway. Friday we went somewhere, I forget exactly where but when we got home I went out to someone’s house on the other side of town and picked up flagstones that I laid out for the walkway leading down to where the new patio will eventually be. While there weren’t enough for the whole thing, the walkway appears to be shaping up nicely, and if I ever get this productive, I would move the stones aside and build up a fieldstone wall and then lay down a layer of sand and pea gravel. While pea gravel does have a tendency to travel, I would probably install some of that metal barrier to keep it in place. Two sets of Moonray lights came in, and I set them up. These are half a watt each light, and since the transformer can take up to ten watts, I suppose I can add another two sets and be okay. Saturday I got a set of six Hampton Bay lights, and installed them. These, too, are half a watt each, and then yesterday I got two more sets, which completely line the house side of the pathway. I’m going to eventually set up a transformer in the garage and have it lead to outside, on a timer, so that Bethany and I can sit outside and not be troubled by wandering critters. I got a number of flower boxes, which I am working on setting up, as well as some other random outdoor objects. Yesterday I set up two hanging lanterns on either post on the back porch. I’ve got a number of propagated shrubs going in several pots; will need to water them tomorrow and see how they are doing.
Saturday afternoon I picked up a teak wall cubby, which weighs a ton, and installed it today in the hallway over the ugly plywood that my parents installed when I was a kid. Later, Bethany and I will take down that wall (read: I’ll do it), and then there will be new paint and wallboard there. The trouble with that wall is that there is horsehair plaster, and as a result it could spark an issue for me, but anyway.
Last Wednesday I went to see Michael; he sold me a couple of guitar amps and a guitar; I had already picked up a twelve-string on Monday, so no more. The acoustic guitar he gave me on Wednesday sounds off like a cannon, and is made by Fender. Working on fingerpicking more; as a fun experiment I purchased a pick that has two-picks attached, separated by this spongy material to make it a little easier on the hands. It’s fun to play with but because I don’t normally play with picks that big, it’s a bit awkward. I love how it makes my guitar sound like an orchestra, and I am looking forward to seeing what it will make the big twelve-string sound like.
Just ordered the strings from I love hearing 12-strings. I remember that massive acoustic monster my parents gave me for Christmas one year. It was so large that I couldn’t reach around it to play the strings. It wasn’t very comfortable to play. The Fender I have is a bit big, but not so much so that it becomes awkward to play. I like how I am slowly working more and more on finding MY style. Do not get me wrong; I love Creedence Clearwater Revival, and I will listen to them until the day I die, but in order for me to develop, I need to be working on my unique sound, my style, which is still developing, is a mix of styles. I enjoy the good, thumping bassline in Open D Tuning (D-A-D-F-A-D) that Skip James (Hard Time Killing Floor Blues and Lightnin’ Hopkins (Where Did You Stay Last Night?) used. Drop D (D-A-D-G-B-D) is an amazing tuning for fingerpicking, and even a variation on Open D (C-G-C-D#-G-C) sounds incredible. I’ve tried something that almost sounds jazzy (B-A-D-G-B-D) and it sounds good only on my broken-neck Les Paul. Open tunings are a great way to really get your mind working. There are numerous melodies I’ve created and borrowed from the greats, and I’m hoping that eventually I can make some kind of an album.
Financially, Bethany and I appear to be doing okay. We’ve bought a lot for the house, but I think we’re being wise about things. I owe 3k on one credit card and 2k on another, and B has 6k on her card. I got paid Saturday (About 1200 or so), so I’ll probably knock another grand or so off of mine.
Today I have to deal with a bunch of things, including Liberty U.’s Dean’s Report, etc. Grading, Grading, Grading. I’m also going to send a message to the Piper family coming out to them.
- Sedgy
Yesterday I went to my cousin Ryan’s 30h birthday party. It was fun, mostly hors d’oeuvres (had to look up the spelling of that one!), and there were a few people there playing in a band. Really it was just two guys with acoustics, but they were really good. I guess the rest of the band was there as well, sort of a motley crew, and I was a bit surprised that Ryan would be hanging around with kids these young. In any event, I went, mingled, had some fun, and departed. I guess because the whole thing was on Father’s Day there wasn’t that many people. I bowed out early, especially considering that everyone there were smokers and I wasn’t. I stopped in at the little barn across the street (the whole thing was at the Fire or something tavern in Newburyport) and looked around. It was so hot I had to leave, because the smell of sweaty guys was so overpowering. Speaking of smells, I have noticed a distinct but different odor coming from my body; I am wondering if my deodorant is no longer smelling good to me and I will need something else. I will have to look it up.
I divided some of the shrubs that I got off CL yesterday; these are the ones I’ve installed around the cherry tree near the porch. I trimmed off some of the dead branches because there is new growth there and I want to make sure that I keep them alive. Not sure what kind they are, perhaps holly? I know they are evergreens. I planted about twelve butterfly bushes a few days ago, and they are different colors. I planted in the following order: dark blue, blue, pink, white, white, pink, blue, dark blue. The same colors as the transgender pride flag, which is my way of resisting without being too obvious.
While I cannot live in the past, I obviously still think quite a bit about my parents. Would they like the changes to the house? Part of me thinks: who cares? I don’t, since they are not alive anymore, but there’s a part that wishes that they would have been more proud of me for what I’ve accomplished in this life.
Today I have a bunch of stuff to do, so I will likely post again later…
It’s Father’s Day, another year since my father left in 2011. People have asked me after the passing of a closed loved one, especially a parent, if it ever gets easier. It never does. It’s just… different. I mean, this is the man who obviously did things to me that no child should ever have to experience, although as I get older I realize this may or may not have happened (or maybe I have a desire to deify him in some way), yet this is the man who taught me about life and showed me a lot of things to help me become a better person. I miss my dad. I miss his kind and gentle laugh, his shenanigans, and how he always found time to read a book. He inspired me in so many ways that I can’t even begin to describe them. I may have been something of a disappointment to him throughout my life but in the end I can honestly say that I truly loved him.
This past week has been good. God has really been convicting me about prayer, and thankfully, I have responded. My relationship with Bethany still gets testy sometimes, but overall, I can honestly say that we have been doing better than we ever have. I’ve done some work on AODM, and Part 10 is almost done with this editing, and then there will be the footnotes.
Yesterday went well until the evening when I spent time in my office getting my to-do list done for today and my wife started chafing because I wasn’t upstairs where I belonged. I just accepted her ranting, since that is my job in this marriage. This morning she was at it again, going on and on and complaining that I wasn’t doing what she wanted me to do in hanging up shower bars in the bathrooms before work. I was reading my Bible, or at least, the daily Bible readings, at which point she got a little embarrassed. Not enough to apologize, of course, because Bethany does not ever feel the need to apologize, but enough to look away and not meet eye contact.
I have been in deep prayer lately about everything going on in my life. There is an excellent book I have been reading entitled ‘The Kneeling Christian’ – about the power of prayer in our lives. I remember when I was first saved I was steadfast in prayer and focused on the Lord, not on things or my circumstances. I remember praying over and over again for relief from my mental issues, expecting Him to solve my problems. I knew that He wanted me to be of good cheer and trust Him, and be of sound mind, but I had no idea that it would take almost fifteen years for Him to answer my prayers.
What have I been praying about? Well, I have been praying for Him to take my mind off my transitioning. It is one of those things, like guitar or anything else, that can absolutely consume my every waking thought. I have been praying for Him to convict me about prayer, and about following His commands. I have been praying also about my transition, asking him to either completely convict me that what I am doing is wrong, or to give me the confidence I need to keep moving forward. I have been praying for Bethany, who is still sick, and I have begun reading books on psychopathy in order to try and understand her inner workings. The truth is this: I was never supposed to have married her. In 2009, I remember praying to God that if He got me out of here (meaning Central MA) I would do whatever He said. I remember Him telling me not to get too comfortable, since I was not to be staying in Massachusetts forever. Instead, I went ahead and got married. The more and more I pray, the more and more I study, the more and more I realize I have married a psychopath, and that while I cannot change her, I can pray for her, and pray fervently that God will help the both of us. Me simply sitting back and being passive about my own life isn’t healthy. Me sitting back and not dealing what issues isn’t healthy. Me focusing exclusively on being trans isn’t healthy, either; I need to be focusing on what the Lord wants me to be doing.
Praying without ceasing is a great way for me to stop having these ridiculous conversations or imagined scenarios in my head where I am being confronted by one person or another about me being transgender. Of course, I am praying not necessarily for freedom from thinking about me being trans as much as I am praying that the Lord will guide me and show me His plan and His purpose for my life.
I am leaving his Dunkin’ Donuts (North Quincy). There is no A/C and it is utterly stifling.
Now I am at Panera in Wilmington enjoying a late dinner. Nice place to eat, and nice and air conditioned, as well. The person who is at the counter here is definitely part of the LGBT+ community, but I can’t tell if he/she is trans like me or just gender queer. I might say something to him/her on my way out. Today I spent quite a bit of time finishing up grading, etc. I have two more essays to grade and I will be out of the woods – for now. It seems that we are going to be implementing more ‘checks’ throughout the semester to ensure student retention, rather than teaching. Tomorrow I have to call the plumber because it seems the wax seal around Bethany’s toilet is having issues, and there is the dividing of creeping myrtle and burgleweed to deal with.
This past week has been a rollercoaster of emotions and plans. Since Thursday night or so Bethany and I have been arguing. I really don’t know entirely what the issue is; it usually comes down to me getting fed up with the way she just demands I do something and exploding on her rather than keeping my cool and writing in my journal. This journal, I have to say, has saved my skin more than once, and I am truly thankful daily that God has allowed me to write in it.
I’ve been working on trying to get my mind off transitioning. I understand from many people online that being part of the LGBT movement can have a certain impact on them; for the first time in their lives they are a part of a community and they kind of become obsessed. I do not discuss much of my transition with Bethany, but this is not because she does not want me talking about it, rather, she doesn’t want me talking at all. I’ll spend a few minutes talking about a patio, etc., and she will interrupt to tell me not to spend any money on it or that it won’t work, just the usual extreme negativity that I have come to expect from her. It has little to do with transitioning; this inevitable negativity or criticism will come up any time I discuss future plans to apply somewhere else or when I am working on my novel. Perhaps her own life is nothing but dry bones and this is why she doesn’t like me talking.
But back to distracting myself regarding my transition. I am focusing on playing guitar and gardening, as I said, and I am desperately trying to get back into studying scripture and having a relationship with God. I recognize that my life has slowly but surely become void of meaning not because I am trans, but because I am married to someone who is spiritually dead, and while she is dead God desires for me to be alive in Christ. So I am focusing on developing my spiritual life. I acknowledge that in the future there will be someone who reads this and finds that my usage of ‘I’ all the time poses an issue because we shouldn’t be talking about ourselves at all, or rather, we should not be the focus, but in this diary, I have found that in my early years of working for New England Compounding Center I was so focused on Christianity that I wasn’t talking about anything else.
How am I developing my spirit life? Well, first I am trying to devote some time each day to just being quiet and not talking, but listening to what the Lord has to say. Too often we view God as a Santa Claus, and that has dramatic implications for whether we hear from the Lord or not. Second, studying scripture and doing daily devotionals are important, as well. What I do want to do is start some kind of devotional where I read scripture and then start writing what so and so scripture means to me and how it can be applied. I do not desire to go so far over to the other side that I become ‘religious’ again, which is always a risk, but I pray that God shows me where He wants me to focus on and continue developing.
In the garden/side yard, things are continuing to progress. I have pretty much finished planting everything that is going on the driveway side next to the house; some weeding needs to be done, and the violets (I think that’s what they are) need to be divided and transplanted so that they can thrive all over the yard. I got some black-eyed Susan plants over there, plenty of hostas, phlox, and burgleweed. There are many sprouts of various plants there. My hope is that this will be a mixed garden on one side, the pathway leading to the front of the house, and the more variety of plants growing to kind of give the impression one is actually in the woods somewhere. Down front, the iris plants are getting ready to bloom, and there are other plants that are definitely doing well. Hydrangeas look good on the area just beside the landing, and I have started installing pavers that will lead to the driveway. Down the side yard everything except the foxglove has come back and most of the side lawn has been covered with mulch except for where it was rocks; I have built a path there so that when I start installing the pavers they will follow this path. Adjustments may be needed, which is fine, but on the whole, you can see how things are looking up. There are now a number of dogwoods in the ground, lilac shrubs, and there will be other plants, as well. I have to deal with the plants in the fridge and start getting them into pots to grow; I know at least one is a cherry tree that will likely be growing behind the garage or so, perhaps more than one, and there are other things, like lilac, that will be planted and come back in the spring. I have those burning bushes in the back, and there are shrubs back there that will be dug up and moved to the front; the burning bushes will likely be moved forward, and as they fill out and fill in that back area will no longer be visible from our yard. Near the red maple, there are hostas basking in the shade of the tree, and I picked up a ton of ornamental grasses.
One thing I should mention here is about the hostas I got; they were advertised for free on Craigslist, and so I went to get them. I looked around to see if anyone was around, and no one was, so I left. I didn’t think anything of it, until the next day someone wrote that whoever took them had stolen those that had been promised to six people. The author called me an asshole. Part of me wanted to return them, and the other part of me was like, well, you advertised them on CL for free, and I looked around to see if you were there. I wasn’t so much torn about it as I was fearful that if I told anyone about it the person who had them would beat the crap out of me. So I kept them. I’ll pay it forward in the future, I promise.
Today I am going to be working on Liberty; there are quite a few papers to grade, and I am going to take frequent breaks looking at stuff on CL and eBay; it’s my hope that I can get everything that I need for this garden into the ground by the middle of the summer so I can focus on painting again.

- Sedgy


May. 26th, 2017 10:55 am
I’ve gained some weight on hrt, which is troubling but nothing that I can’t get under control. The snacking has gone from bad to worse, though, and it’s nobody’s fault but my own. The problem is that at work I would eat my food and had learned to discipline myself to not constantly be shoveling food in, but now with school out, and the weather kind of sucky, I have little to do and as a result, I am eating out of boredom. I’ll get back into things, of course. My goal is to burn off a minimum of seven hundred and fifty calories a day on the elliptical; I figure if I schedule my day around exercising and discipline myself to get on the thing a minimum of ten minutes. Ten times a day, I’ll be golden. Reading books is a great way to keep me from spending so much time thinking about being transgender. Of course, this is who I am, but at the same time I don’t want to waste my life with this being my only focus. I wonder how Jess did it; I’m sure she struggles with it. Time to devote my energy into either developing more understanding about God, my faith, and my hobbies, especially guitar and gardening. Reading books about chess will likely go a long way toward helping me, as well. I am not yet getting read as female, but I’m sure once I begin rapid weight loss, I’ll be there in no time. I know of people who lose weight and are able to live full-time as female before even starting HRT, which is incredible, when you think about it. The girl, Sara, who is on the transgender support boards, documented her transition throughout and she looks stunning now. I’m hoping to clean up well, myself.
I’ve been playing guitar quite a bit lately but doing the same old songs over and over. I really need to start thinking about recording, and how I’m going to arrange, etc. The problem is that I am beginning to think that I have PTSD from this marriage. The dishes are a constant source of badgering for me; it has gotten so bad that I really don’t even want to eat anymore. We need a new dishwasher, but she doesn’t want to go out. It’s obvious she likes playing the helpless victim, and I wish to God that I had seen all these warning signs when I first met her. Heck, if I had realized that I had gender issues, there’s a good chance that I would never have gotten married in the first place. I’ve got to trust that God has a plan in all of this, and that God has to be the source of my strength. If it isn’t, of course I’m going to get stressed and depressed, because I am trying so hard to make Bethany happy, or avoid her. Personally, I think avoiding her is a great way for me to not be triggered by her crap.
These past few weeks have been quite an interesting sequence of events. Bethany and I have been fighting off and on, and while we always make up in the end it just wears on me after a while. My joy comes from gardening, writing (which I have not been doing with the gardening a pressing matter) and from playing guitar. Sitting there and listening to B consists of her going on and on about her family’s history, which, while interesting, does not allow me to talk about my own. She claims she wants me to interject to say something, but then continues talking so that I can’t say anything. If she could skip over taking a pause for breathing she would, just so I can’t talk.
I went this weekend to Beverly for some shrubs. They were free, and I planted them in the center of the yard, creating a kind of wrap-around for the cherry tree. It’ll look nice when it’s done. Then I did the same further down the side yard for the white dogwood, and then there will be the pink dogwood down by the side of the addition. I guess these trees grow slowly so there won’t be too much going on for the first few years or so. B is complaining about it, of course, despite the fact that these plants were mostly free, but my theory is that she feels if I am working in the garden or yard then I have my hearing aids out, and if I have them out then I can’t be sitting there listening to more crap about how I don’t listen.
I saw Sarah M., Lisa’s sister, the other day, and it kind of triggered me because she is an obnoxious loser who never liked me and actually went out of her way to bully me like everyone else in high school and I kind of wish I hadn’t seen her because my fear is she’ll out me to everyone. But she was probably so focused on how much she hated me that she didn’t notice my growing chest. And yes, my chest is indeed growing, and it seems like it’ll hit B-cup status before long, which makes me very happy. I am terrified and excited at the same time. It would be nice if my face would catch up with my body; aside from my man thighs (likely from running), I have a pretty good curvaceous body aside from that disgusting thing hanging in the middle. It’s my hope that over the summer I can have more sessions of laser on my face and on my chest. My arms are not so bad that I have to shave every day, but my chest has to be shaved at least every other day or so; just my breasts, at least. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sitting there and just had this urge to grab my breasts. They feel amazing, and they’re mine. Touching them brings me so much pleasure, and I remember as a kid staring in the mirror wishing the buds would pop out. Well, they are now, and I am so happy with the way that they are coming out. I think I’m past an ‘A’ cup now, and I hope that they are nice and big, not too big, but a good size, enough to make me be seen as a female. People still see me as a guy despite the changes, and this is likely due to my continued wearing of male clothing. I think my shoes will eventually be female, as well as a coat or jacket, but aside from that I will likely continue wearing male clothing.
Today I’m scheduling intervals, like I used to; five minutes on the treadmill, about ten minutes or so on a task, then five minutes on the treadmill. I have to keep myself busy because I think about the future a lot here, and thinking about my family makes me nervous because I don’t know how they are going to take my changes.

Hump Day

May. 10th, 2017 02:14 pm
I am finally beginning to notice more changes to my body. I cut a slender figure now, although I wear a flannel shirt to hide my chest. I must be nearing an ‘A’ cup, and I do not call attention to them to Bethany, who says she is still having a hard time with it. Too bad. Well, that’s what she said last year about how she wanted to increase the budget spent on food and cleaning products. It’s my house. Not hers. I deliberately did not put her name on it for that reason. But back to my body, in part because Bethany has been babbling all morning about this and that and how she doesn’t like that I bought this and that. My legs have certainly become more defined, and I have noticed it takes a lot more effort to life something heavy. It’s likely the lack of testosterone that has caused that, which is fine; it’s my hope that I will eventually weigh less than Bethany, who weighs about 160. I know that is a pipe dream, though. About 165-170, I would look really good, and my aim is on that number.
Been doing more skincare lately, which has enabled me to start seeing a more feminine face. My cheeks are really the only area that need to be filled in, and I can certainly feel them over time. I’ve only been on a full dose for a few months, and while estrogen had certainly been building up in my system, I didn’t have a hormone blocker to suppress testosterone.
Bethany said that she doesn’t want to tell her father about me; she fears he will have a heart attack. I said fine, but on the inside, I am upset. Once again, because other people are uncomfortable with me, I can’t be myself. Story of my fucking life. The list of things that I was not allowed to bring up or talk about to either Sara or Bethany runs a mile long.
Part of me sincerely hopes that my entire family rejects me. I really do. I hope that every one of them says they will not accept gifts or any further contact. It would bring such relief to know that I never meant anything to these people to begin with, never meant anything to my parents, either, I think. My mother’s side of the family have largely pushed me away, which is fine; I am going to slowly unfriend more people as time goes on in efforts to whittle down my social circle. I don’t need people in my life. I don’t. I don’t want that many people in my life, either. I don’t think I’m bitter about that; it’s the truth. These people are toxic, poison to me, and I need to make sure that I do not allow their poison to infect my life.
Today I came out to Bill and John, two of the guys down at the coffee shop. They were kind of stunned, but accepting. Not sure if they will continue to be as time goes on, but in any event, they seemed accepting. People are often stunned by new information when they get it, and when they have a chance to process it, they inevitably do one of two things: they either accept it or reject it. Sometimes there is a third option, where they struggle with parts of it, but in today’s world, the vast majority of people either accept things or reject them.
It was today that I noticed that I look very thin now, not emaciated, but enough where I can actually see that I am an hourglass figure. I figured I’d need to lose a lot more weight in order to see my curves, but I am quite happy with what I have right now. My body is no longer really a guy’s as much as a masculine chick (not that I was really that masculine to begin with), and once my facial hair is completely gone, coupled with a new set of glasses, I should be able to finally be my true self. I imagine I am going to confuse the crap out of people with my appearance, especially since I present as a masculine chick, and as soon as my cheeks fill in, the old Shaun will be pretty much non-existent. I have to wear something over my chest so that my breasts don’t show, which are at least an A cup now, but even wearing this flannel shirt reveals graceful curves where there were once blobs of fat. I find it incredible that, for me, my stomach fat was such a major source of contention. I hated it, and whenever I grabbed it (I still can; it is greatly diminished, though), I felt ashamed of myself despite surrounding myself with others who were far more obese than I. Of course, there are those who will reject me and those who will accept me; I have little faith in my immediate family in their outright rejection of me, and perhaps there will be extreme hostility toward me. I told Brett that I was dealing with something, and now I have to kind of message him and tell him what is going on.
I have not really shared much about other happenings in my life. I’ve been focused on the garden, and am in the process of putting in more flowers and plants. There are many seeds to be planted, mostly ground cover, and that will likely come back in the Spring. I have found that it really spreads and grows fast; my goal is to have a completely grassless lawn and at the very least have some kind of waterworks, like a river, meandering through the property. Of course, this might be some kind of a pipe dream; bubbling brooks, after all, require a great deal of time and money to maintain, but my goal is to make the yard best match Bethany’s (and mine) tastes and interests. Forsythia is going to be grown along the side yard and in the back; I love those yellow blooms that will so clearly define the boundaries of the Sedgewood residence without a wall or fence. I am growing ornamental grasses for the back, where they will likely prosper and this fall reach towering heights. I really enjoy being out of doors and enjoying my time in the garden.
These next few weeks will be hectic as I deal with the end of the semester and an upcoming jury duty summons. My wife seems to think I will not need to go; on Friday of next week I will need to call and verify that I will have jury duty. Two classes for Liberty University during the summer and one at Quincy College means that I will be seeing roughly six or seven thousand for the summer, plus whatever if my contract is renewed. I am going to stay at Liberty at least until the end of the year; starting next year I will likely no longer be able to stay there because I will no longer look like a guy. Probably at all.
Last night I pulled into Quincy’s Dunkin’ Donuts, where I am now, and had a bunch of texts from my wife, who was being brought by ambulance to Melrose-Wakefield Hospital for chest pain. I immediately started driving, and wound up at the hospital after sitting in traffic for nearly two hours. As it turns out, my wife did not have a heart attack, or at least, the doctors do not think so judging from the EKG, blood work and scans. Still, her pain persists. She has so much pain that she cannot sit down, and has a hard time breathing. Tomorrow she has an appointment at eight, but for today she has told me to go into work, and as a result I have gone in, and now I worry about her. I know we have our ups and downs in this marriage, and I still have problems with how she desires to manage so much of my thoughts and abilities, but she is still the woman I married and I am still her husband, transgender or not. It is my sincere hope that we can get to the bottom of this before the summer; I don’t think that I can handle having to ferry her back and forth to the hospital all summer. I have one class for this summer term, and it looks like it will be starting at the end of May. I have to get it set up before Jury Duty starts, double check the links and everything.
Did some more gardening stuff today; there are so many new things popping up in the garden and backyard that it is truly incredible. Butterfly bush looks nice and full, and in the far back up in the rocks there are all kinds of stuff blooming. I have a few lamb’s ear to plant, as well as daylilies, etc., and there is much to do with cleaning up the yard from all the leaves, but I am sure that I will begin taking care of all that soon.
I was just thinking about this earlier while I was running on the elliptical. When I was a kid I used to have this dream, a reoccurring one, where I had this black cloud that followed me around any time I went out of the house. I am not entirely sure exactly what it did, but this sense of imminent doom seemed to plague me as a child. Could this have meant that any time I went outside I could not be my authentic self? It is an interesting theory, and while I will likely never know, there is a great deal of my life that is up in the air right now. I told my wife that I have been prescribed two patches rather than one; I told her that I was going to wait to start taking them until after she was done with her surgery, but with her surgery done there is little left to stop me from starting them. We talked a bit about how she is always asking me if I am angry at her, which I have now finally begun to understand: I asked my mother if she were angry a lot, and I can only imagine how angry she eventually got. Not only that, but I think Bethany has an issue with anger besides her own: I tried explaining that frustration is a natural thing, as are other emotions, at which point she explained she’d asked me if I could do the two pictures on the wall, and I had said yes. I explained that any project has its setbacks, and to assume that everything will automatically go smoothly is absurd. She still disagrees, but at least I left for work this afternoon in a better mood and it seems we parted on loving terms.


May. 1st, 2017 10:30 am
One of the things that is really interesting is how I used to feel like I was being singled out for punishment. I remember so many instances where I was teased or made fun of or treated differently. I was viewed, as I am now, as little more than an experiment in behavior modification. My wife is the same way, constantly trying to get me to conform to her views of how I should act and think. Yesterday she was getting upset at something, and I said to her, ‘why are you getting angry?’ She got angrier, accusing me of trying to ‘start shit.’ I looked at her and told her that I was going to start treating her the same way she treats me. I’ve been struggling with my mood lately, and I think it might be the anti-depressants, because I really don’t think I am clinically depressed. B doesn’t want it to be the anti-depressant; she wants it to be the hormones, which figures, because she can see that HRT has improved my sense of self-esteem and self-worth, and she wants to squash it.
I have to set up my fake schedule for Quincy today or tomorrow; I want to make sure that I am out of the house as much as possible this summer. I wouldn’t mind, but if she thinks that I’m going to be sitting inside all summer long listening to her senseless babbling, she is kidding herself.
It’s my hope that I can get back into working on AODM. I’m almost halfway done with Part Nine.
Today my wife and I went to the Mission of Deeds for their annual yard sale. We got a bunch of stuff; Bethany had her gallbladder out yesterday and is still in a lot of pain. She’s talking a lot, which is annoying, especially since when I want to talk she’s suddenly in pain and can’t talk anymore. Still, it is a relief to see her not in nearly as much pain as she had been previously, and while she and I still bicker and while my goal still appears to be not getting yelled at for most of the day, we seem to be at peace with ourselves and each other.
My hips have grown considerably since last I wrote; they are easily outside the width of my stomach, which, while was never that large, my pants are a bit snug around the thigh area. Yet my waistline is considerably smaller than the size 38 pants I am wearing; I will need to continue exercising to tone up my muscles further. I have noticed that I have lost considerable muscle mass, and while that delights me to some extent, lifting something like a large marble cutting board my wife wanted at a yard sale took considerable effort.
My breasts have grown, as well; while the doctor has put me on two patches/week vs. one patch/week that I was on previously, I haven’t started it yet. For one thing, I have jury duty coming up in a little less than three weeks, and I want to get that under my belt before starting two patches. I haven’t told B about the increase in estrogen just yet; I wanted her to get her gallbladder out and be in considerably less pain before I told her, but considering that she had emergency surgery, I will have to tell her this afternoon. Once I am on two patches, that is pretty much it; the changes will happen considerably faster and when I am outside I will need to wear loose-fitting clothing to hide them. Once my face finishes up and my cheeks fill out, there is a good chance I could actually pull this off with a close enough shave. Still, the desire to wear female clothing is elusive. Shoes do actually appeal to me, not heels, of course, but short boots or long boots that go halfway up to one’s knee. That will come in time, I suppose. That will come in time. There are many things that need to happen first; while my arm hair has lessened considerably, I still have copious amounts of chest hair, and once I start shaving that and my legs, I am pretty much going to be ‘out’ as female. At the gym, if I choose to go, I will need to wear my shorts and shirt there, and perhaps avoid having to use the bathroom. Cardio will likely be here, rather than out, and the only thing I really want to be using regularly at the gym are the weights.
For the past few days I have been looking in the mirror, and it seems like there has been a radical change to my skin complexion. The fat has shifted on my cheeks further northward, which indicates that being ‘read’ as female could be only a few months away, a fact that both makes me happy and terrifies me at the same time. There are so many things that could happen now; so many people who do not realize that I am transitioning that could suddenly see me as a woman, albeit a masculine one, and so many problems that could develop. I’ve started an anti-depressant, Zoloft, which has done wonders for the lingering feeling of depression that I have struggled with since a teenager. The problem now is that, with Bethany still very sick, am I being selfish for transitioning? I suppose anyone who does transition is selfish, especially when they are married, but it is something that I have to wonder. By my very nature I worry about what others will think about me, and so now I wonder what others will say when I am out to them. Will they judge me severely because my wife is sick? If I tell them that I almost committed suicide, will they care? Will they believe me? I am not sure, but my male self is clearly on borrowed time. I was prescribed two patches each week instead of one, and while I won’t start that dosing until next week or the week after (I have one patch left for a once-weekly dose; I might just decide to put it on soon and let it happen). I am not scared like I used to be, when it comes to anything, although I should not just throw caution to the wind. I have to be careful; transgender people are killed all the time just for being who they are.
God has taught me a lot throughout all of this. Yesterday or the day before I was reading the Bible, in Corinthians, where it says, ‘I have a clear conscience, but that does not make me innocent. The Lord will judge me, in time.’ And He will; I do not boast about being trans, or at least, if I do, I pray that God will make me more humble, since I need to be focusing on Him rather than being transgender. This focus, by the way, is apparently something that many people deal with after many things. For example, after I got saved, I became extreme, after I realized I had been sexually molested as a child I became extreme, and now that I realize I am trans I am extreme. While I do no talk to my wife about these issues, this is because, I think, God has shown me how much pain she is, not just physically, but emotionally, as well; as I transition, she is, too: while I am a total dyke, I recognize she isn’t, although there may be some aspect of her sexuality she hasn’t really explored.
And… it looks like I’m heading home. My wife is in extreme pain and it’s non-stop.

Today I am in the Colon and Rectal center somewhere in Woburn, 91 Montavle? I’ve never been here before. Last night my wife was in the ER with extreme pain. I had no idea, I don’t think, just how bad it was, and here we are today and she is going to be getting prepped for surgery in a little bit. I don’t think that I have ever been in as much pain as Bethany is in right now.
Home from the doctor’s. She was getting prepped, but the surgery will take place on Friday. She’s in agony now, but we’ve got to spend some time together, which is really good.
Today has been an interesting day, to say the least. I was kind of in a dumpy mood in the morning despite heading down to Dunks to see my father’s friends, and after that I went outside to pull up some of the weed blocker that has been the bane of my existence since first putting it in a year ago. After that I went downstairs, did some work on Beowulf, followed by heading back upstairs to take care of some of the pictures that needed to be hung on the wall. However, I noticed I had a message from someone. Lo and behold, a message from Melissa! I thought she’d clean forgotten about me, but we would up going out to lunch and it was a very enjoyable time. It is so good to know someone who is so creative. I try had to follow her world building; it can be complex sometimes with my hearing loss. Finished hanging all the pictures; I’m roughly halfway done with Beowulf, and of course, now, Monday, I have discovered that I have not posted this yesterday.
Been thinking a lot lately about the third thread for ‘A Once Distant Memory.’ Ten parts; at least another three hundred thousand words. I don’t think I should even be thinking about it right now, considering I am still slogging through Part Nine. This is the Part where Stacy becomes a Christian, much to her father’s chagrin, and I am trying hard to make sure that I finish it before the summer. Parts Ten through Thirteen are parts that need major reworking, and I am hoping that this summer I can finish these parts and the footnotes. There will need to be some more editing, I think; one more look-see to determine if the blasted thing is worth anything.
Been thinking a bit about Bad Moon Rising and wondering if I should rewrite the thing, using the same structural framework I am using now. I suppose that there are many aspects of one’s first novel that we would all change. I might do something with it, and then again, I might not. I might edit it, and then include the original version at the end, for people to decide what they think is better.
Today I don’t have counseling; I guess my counselor is on vacation. I have to do the second part of Beowulf for the class tomorrow, and some minor grading. Today is going to be a bit on the cooler side, so I will likely stay at Quincy today.



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