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.

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