The Gypsy Girl @ the edge of the world

 

People say the world is round so there can be no edge.

But that’s simply not true.

For the Gypsy Girl stares out over the edge

Looking into the dark abyss which is beyond the world

Behind her there is a world of life filled with hope

In front there is the void that shows nothing and releases nothing

She cannot pull away

She has looked back to the world once or twice

When a gentle hand has touched her and helped her back

But the void calls to her

A sweet sad song

A song that says “join me”

She cannot pull away and is tired

Tired of fighting

Tired of standing

So she sits

Her legs dangling over the edge of the world

A weird sensation fills her

She can feel the darkness wrap around her legs

It feels strangely comforting

The darkness seeps in through her feet

It chills and warms at the same time

The siren song promises no more pain if she slips into the deep

So easy it would be to let go

Push off from the ledge and sink

But then the hope in the world would be lost to her

Then again so will all the pain

There is no pain in the void

There is no fear

There is no worry

She leans over

She stares closer into the dark

She hears the sweet song

She inches closer

Her legs dangling even farther

She reaches out her hand

The other firmly grasping the ground behind her

Darkness moves towards the outstretched hand

Her fingers start to let loose of the ground

She leans even farther

She completely lets go

She starts to slip over the edge of the world

You grab her shoulders just in time

You pull her up and step back from the edge

You hold her in your arms

She asks you why

You kiss her forehead and hold tighter

She whispers thank you

The adventuring party

                The Gypsy girl had been involved in several different adventuring parties. Many of them were made up of the same type of people. Perhaps that’s because she had always been attracted to those types. She had also had lovers and love interests in the past. She had been both hunter and prey when it came to love. She had been both accepted and denied. She had both accepted and denied others. However this time, with this party, things were different.

 It was still a large party with many of the same types. A motley crew that many would think could survive together. Unlikely friends who should never have met. But those people couldn’t see the connections. They couldn’t see the string that ran through the group and the intricate web that continued to shift and change. The Gypsy could however. On an instinctual level even if no a physical level she could see the connections in the world as well as the potential.  That potential was not only in the world around her but the individuals which she came in contact with.

Now all adventuring parties no matter how big or small have a tendency to splinter within the party. This is not to say the turn against each other. In fact when it is time for a quest they will cover each other until the very end even if it means there own life. No, when I talk about splintering I mean during the down time. You have a lot of one on one time depending on the person. Apparently this has been the case with the Gypsy, who no one can seem to get enough time with. But for the Gypsy she had a core interest group. Three she was hopelessly attracted to. Three she couldn’t figure out why because while they had similarities they were hugely different.

Who are they? Well you have the wizard, the damsel, and the warrior. They have different personalities and alignments but for whatever reason she was drawn to them. So what makes them so special? That is a story for another time.

The Gypsy Girl and the Knife

 

When you work in the family business you’re surrounded by tools of that trade. For the little Gypsy Girl one of those tools was the knife. The knife is a tool used to open things. This is just what the Gypsy Girl did on a daily bases. Over time one thing would become the sole object of her focus to open.

As time went by she started feeling more and more restricted by her prison. The walls which grew with her seemed to not grow fast enough. They restricted her. She couldn’t seem to break free. Not only did the prison restrict her soul, it concealed the Gypsy girl from the sight of the world. No one could see her true beauty. They couldn’t see the love she had to share. They couldn’t see her pain. Worst of all because of this prison they couldn’t even see that she was a girl.

                Not everything was bad about this prison. After all it had an amazing design that was very clever. It was able to grow as to not be too cramped. It didn’t look like a prison so no one would know she was a captive. It was mobile allowing her to see things even if she couldn’t really feel them.

                So she took the knife firmly in her grasp. She turned it on the prison trying to release her true self. The more she scratched at it the more frustrated she became. They could never understand why she did it. They didn’t realize the prison she was trapped so escape made no sense. They would tell her that they understood that she was trying to feel something. But all she wanted to do was escape.

                Finally she turned to the witches and their potions. Slowly the potions and spells started to transform the prison. People could start to see what she truly was and that she was a she. What many couldn’t see was the lock. It was cleverly hidden. Some knew it was there. A few seemed to take delight in reminding her of it. Perhaps they felt she should remain imprisoned.  Perhaps they were angry about their own prisons. Others who didn’t know about the lock she had to keep at a safe distance for fear they would punish her for trying to escape.

                So she fondles the knife wanting to scratch at the lock. Sometimes she comes close to prying it open herself. Instead she scratches at the remaining walls.

After all when trying to open a lock t is better to use a lock smith. But still patients wears thin.

Who is there for the gypsy

The gypsies come into town

They live on the fringes of society

They survive by entertaining they locals

They give a show

They cause you to ooo and aww

They cause you to laugh and cry

They offer you comfort

They give you advice

They listen to your problems

You give them money if they are lucky

You use them for their talents

You then shun them

But

Who comforts them

Who gives advice to them

Who listens to their problems

Defective: a small rant.

I’m so fucking tired of feeling defective. I never know if people don’t want to get close relationship wise because of me or what I call the birth defect. I have had straight guys confirm that because of that 5% male they are a little (sometimes more than a little) turned off. I wonder if that is a problem with the lesbians I know as well. I will admit that I have depression and suicide issues also. Those however have been determined to be linked to the TG/TS situation which I have going on.

 I also get people telling me how fucking intelligent I am. Which first of all makes me think their idiots. Mainly because I hang around with some hard core nerds. Also I know where I lack knowledge and how much I bullshit.

In any case I’m tired of this fucking eternal limbo which is now my life. I didn’t ask to be born TS it just happened and I tried for 3 decades to deal with it and except a bod which was my prison and guess what. It didn’t work.

 

My old work 2 : you and me

YOU And ME I once loved you I cleaned for you I cared about you I cared for you   You once loved me You once talked to me You once cared for me You were once there for me   I cherished you With gifts I showered you I went to school for you I lived for you   You on occasion cooked for me I cooked for you You held me I held you   You loved me I loved you You listened to me I listened to you   You pushed away from me I crawled back to you You grew apart from me I grew closer to you   You feared being alone so kept me I loved so I stayed with you You decided you didn't love me I knew I always would love you   You hurt me And it hurt you You emotionally killed me So I emotionally hurt you   You say it isn't me You swear the problem is you I think it must be me because I still love you   You no longer want me  A part of  me still wants you You no longer want to hurt me I will do anything for you   You say to leave you I say if that is what you want from me You live only for you Now I must learn to live for me   I look back on my life with you I always wanted there to be you and me, I loved  that my life was you although I  realize there may have never been you and me,   There has always been you Loved by me Sometimes it was you who loved me   I put you Ahead of me for I loved you Now there will be only me and right now I don't like you   I did all I could for you I lived for you I would have given the world for you I would have died for you   Now I will live for me I will love for me I will die for only me I will continue on for me   Your memory will hurt me I hope mine hurts you You will remember me and I will remember you   From this point on it will be me who pushes away you This is what you want of me This is what I give to you   Give my heart back to me for I gave it to you You can't take your heart from me because it seems you kept it with you   I hope one day you will think of me I will probably think of you You will decide you love or need me But will I still be there for you     No longer "yours for eternity" NN. Darkness 2/23/2006

My old work 1: I

I pick up the bottle.

I light up a smoke.

I pick up the knife.

I run the edge across my arm.

I softly press the point to my wrist.

I watch a drop of blood come to the surface.

I want to stop but yet I can't.

I know you brought me here.

I watched you place the bottle down.

I heard you say smoke I don't care.

I want to end it all and get away from you

I want the warm embrace of death

I cry

I miss who you were

I miss myself

I open my eyes

I know it was a dream

I look into the face of an angel

I know she has saved me

I smile

I reach out to her

I kiss her

I say thank you

I know she doesn't understand

I don't care

I will survive

I know

I don't need you

I never did.

Pain

When you’re stuck in a walking prison it’s hard to describe anything. Most of all it’s hard to describe the pain you feel. How do you describe a pain that isn’t inflicted by an outside source? How do you explain an itch that is not caused by any allergy or powder?

The pain of being in the wrong body is unspeakable. There is an ever present ache. Your soul tries to strain against the restraints but they won’t budge. You want to curl up and cry but you can’t explain why.  So you hide the pain. You go out of your way to never ask for help. You try to break free of the prison that allows you to see the entire world but won’t let your soul touch it.

In a prison that does not look like a prison. Everyone thinks you’re doing better. Better after the time you tried to cut deep into your own skin. Better after the fits which lead you to claw at your own skin, leaving you bloody. All of these were attempts to escape the prison. Finally you decide to try to end the torment. You take the pills. You don’t feel anything but the prison inclosing around you and so you take more. Still nothing, so again you take more. Finally you wake up a day later being told that you were the one who told them what you did. Told you were the one who agreed to put your prison inside another prison further restricting yourself.

You can’t even tell your friends or family what is going on inside. How do you put the torment into words? How do you tell them that until the prison is broken you will never be fixed? How do you tell them you don’t want their pity? Especially when some are convinced you just wanted attention. How do you tell them that you don’t want to be their project?

The only thing that will help the pain and keep it from continuing is the surgery. It will not change the past. That pain will always be there, but it will be less. It will not bring your child back into your life, but it will allow you the energy to focus on the fight with the other parent to get equal time. It will not guarantee you a partner for life, but it will remove the fear that keeps you from letting others get romantically close.

Until then how do you tell them “I spend every day wanting to scream in agony from a pain you can’t understand, all I want to do is be free one way or another!!!?”    

Little Gypsy Girl

There once was born into the world a little gypsy girl. She wasn’t anything extraordinary. She was born to a soldier and his wife. The only problem is she was born with a curse.

 The universe and more specifically the Goddess decided that this little red headed girl should be trapped in a prison. This prison wasn’t as nice as a tower or as roomy as a dungeon. This prison was made of flesh and blood in the shape of a male body.

The little gypsy never felt right in this prison but she went about her chores. She kept waiting for the day her body would release her and let her be her. However as she got older it never happened. So she suppressed her dreams. She decided she would just try and become one with her prison.  In doing so she slowly let go of the games she would play with her little wooden soldiers having them act like husband and wife. Let go her desires for ball gowns and her knight in shiny army.

She continued to try to become one with her prison. However the little gypsy girl could never be at piece. She trapped within her male prison went to study with the scholars near her village. She learned that she was not alone but it was still long before she could tell even them that she was trapped in this cruel tight prison. A prison that did not allow her to grow or to age.  

When she was able to finally speak. When the prison had cracked some. She told them she was trapped inside. She wanted to have the surgeons correct this cruel joke and to break her out of the prison. But she had to get the permission of the wizards of the mind who were governed by a great council. She wondered if this council knew what it was like to be in such a prison.

She continues on make slow progress and abiding the wish of the council. She waits until the day she may be free of this prison.  

Plns change

They say the best laid plans run astray. This is unfortunately the sad truth. I had a plan to keep my little gem with me and to tell C to screw off. I wanted to file for primary decision making over my gem’s life and to be the primary home. However after a lengthy talk with a lawyer plans changed.

So why did they change? Well I have no solid arguments not to, other than her controlling nature. It is so hard to prove that I underwent emotional abuse at her hands. I also can’t say for sure that she will do this to our daughter.

Also in court not only will the issue of me being trans come up put so will my mental break down a couple months ago and my other mental issues. It appears that in the short term it may be best for our daughter to be with the bio mother until I can get other things straightened out. At least I can try and maximize the amount of time I get her.

 

Night vs. Light

I have known people who were afraid of the dark. They worry about what lurks in the shadows. Afraid what will come out and attack them.  When the truth purposed by others is that nothing is there is nothing in the dark that isn’t there in the light. The day light and sunshine are supposed to be great for one’s mental health and to stave off depression. That is my problem however.

I have no problem with the night I find it comforting. What I hate is the light. Why do I hate the daylight? I don’t know maybe there is more wrong with me then I thought or know.  But in essence I hate the way it exposes everything. There is no place to hide in the light. Not only can you see everything and everyone but they can see you.

There is no chance of anonymity in the daylight. I have a friend who told me that I was well recognized by a lot of people even out of my certain circles and I had a reputation. While he was basically nobody with no reputation. No one outside of his small circle of friends really talked about him. He wasn’t complaining though just stating what he perceives to be the truth. I would like to point out that he does appear quite frequently in a friend of ours blog. To at least a few of us he is the greatest person in the world at the times where we are at our worst. 

While he was not complaining I am. I want the ability to be anonymous. But it seems like I am not able to around this town. The night offers more protection. At least the night helps to cover the tears and the sadness. So I say screw the light and the reputations.

Sorry I lied

It wasn’t really a lie but more of the fact I was hiding the truth. I have been hit with the fact that certain people want the “old me” back and that is where the perception of the lie comes in. I just didn’t know how to tell people that I knew I was supposed to be born a girl. Some people actually mean well when they say they wish I” would have said something sooner. Their reasoning is that they wish they could have helped me get the help I need sooner. If they had I would have never been able to have a biological child, and my little gem is the bright spot in my life.

The one that truly hurts is when someone tells you that they wish you would have something sooner so that they could have adjusted to it easier. When someone says this I can’t help but wonder if they would have handled it any better. And then they act like it is completely alright to be insensitive and make certain comments. When I get upset I’m over reacting.

What brings this about? Well tonight I went out with friends and a couple family members. While out one friend shows up who has known me since elementary school. She doesn’t even seem to try to remember my new name and keeps using the masculine pronouns. This hurts but what hurt even more was when joking around with B about flashing him (which I have no intentions of doing because we were in public and he is related by blood) and he says in a load voice while outside the bar that I still have a dick and he would kick it. I asked him to tone down on the dick statements and he refused because as family he has the right. I walked off.

We did talk about it after and he says that it’s hard for him to adjust. We have hashed this conversation out a few times. He feels that there is a certain amount of pain he is going thru. I explained that I understood but by him making those comments it could put my life in jeopardy. There are still some people willing to kill a transgendered person.   He said he would protect me. I tried to explain he can’t always be there.

 While some may feel betrayed that I did not tell them sooner I don’t think they understand the true amount of pain a Trans person goes through by having to keep the secret. Which can be one of the hardest parts of being trans.

Quit My Bitchig.

Some days I feel so bleh it’s ridiculous. I realize that I could have shit a lot worse. I mean after all I am still physically healthy for the most part.  Most my issues all are literally in my head. The migraines, the anxiety, depression, and the GID all in my head. I start getting the little voice in my head saying quit you bitching. Yet if I can’t say on FB or to my friends for fear of exhausting the patients of my friends what can I do?

My gem is back

After the thirty minute protest my daughter is finally asleep.

 I met my future ex and her bf at a fast food place at 6 this morning to get my daughter. I saw him first because the girls had gone to the restroom. He filled me in on a few things including the 10 hour drive to get to where I was meeting them. It almost made feel guilty that I had gotten sleep during their drive (I said almost).

Anyways when my baby came out of the bathroom she saw me and came running, screaming Mommy M. I picked her up as she started to cry and as she did what has been a customary looking at my face by moving my head in every direction. I don’t know if she is looking for a mask or what. She then told me she thought she wasn’t going to see me. Which B (the bf) had told me that she had started doubting that they were actually going to see me.

After breakfast, which they had left before she had finished, we went to the park. While we were playing she said a phrase I didn’t realize how much I missed: “Mommy M you’re my best friend.” It always makes me cry a little. When we got back to my place where my friend keeps a room open for me she got to meet his girls before they were taken back to the land of the eternal sun. The rest of the day we hung around watching cartoons and playing with dolls.               

 He and his GF are back and in bed. My baby is a sleep. While I’m exhausted I sit here thinking how great it is to have her back and find myself crying. However for the first time in a while the tears are of happiness and relief. It feels like I’ve got a missing piece back. As to those who may question me from looking for primary custody since she does have a half-sister by way of her other mother, I don’t care she is my daughter and worth fighting for. Besides I’m putting in for Mommy C to get her during summer, spring and winter breaks.

 

P.S. When I told my little girl to say goodbye to Mommy C apparently I struck a nerve. About 10 minutes after they had left she texted me to make sure I knew that our daughter was to call her Mommy not Mommy C. Oh well.

Nervous versus Excited

         
        Today I left the land of the endless sun and drove several hours across southern Arizona to the son. In the morning I will be meeting my future ex to get my baby girl. My soon to be ex has agreed to let me take my daughter. However she has decided that she wants my baby back by the first part of August, can't say I'm happy with that request.

          She doesn't realize that once I file for divorce our daughter will not be able to leave the state I'm in which her birth state is. This may seem like a harsh thing to do but she (the someday ex) was the one that decided to move to a different state and tell me that I had no choice. I say kidnapping and then she says that because I went to a different city (trying to find work to help support my child) I abandoned our child even though I was coming back to visit her. Also because of some other things that happened during the marriage the ex is a major trigger for my anxiety.

          Hence I'm nervous about seeing the mother but excited about getting my daughter back. If I can survive the morning I am sure things will get better from there.

 

           Oh well I guess time will tell.

Meds or this day sucks

So i have a few people I know who deal with chronic illness. I know some that are in chronic pain. Many of them would agree that somedays the meds just don't cut it.

Today is one of thos days for me. A few weeks ago they raised my doage for anti-depresents. Which has been working out pretty good. I've had fewer anxiety issues and when I do their not as severe as what got me sent back to hell. However this just takes what would have been an over whelming keep me in bed day to another just barely able to move out of bed after hitting snooze for an hour.

With depresion there doesn't always seems to be a reason why it strikes. But whatever the reason when it does every bad thing or thought seems to come to the for front of my brain. Today it's another on of those I miss my daughter so bad I want to curl up into a ball and cry. She is with her other mother in NM. When I told my future ex I was comeing back to hell she told me they were moving and that our daughter wasn't coming back from her summer trip to visit the grand parents in NM. She said I could move out there to a town a couple miles away but she was not going to leave her with me and has no intention of split our daughter from the new child the future ex had with her BF. Talk about a smack in the head.

It's hard to explain what it feels like. The strugle it takes to get up out of bed and get moving for the day. It sometimes takes so much effort that it leaves me feeling drained by the time I get to the door. Those who deal with mental and chronic illness may be able to relate. Trying to force yourself to do the things you need to do in order survive (eating, hygiene and work) becomes the main priority. Forget most days doing those things that make you happy.

However I have no doubt this day would be worse if the meds hadn't been increased. At least I made it out the door.

GID and ME

GID can mean many things to different people. That’s the problem with acronyms. For me being a Trans-woman it has a very specific meaning on the psychological level:

 

But what does it feel like to have GID. It’s one of those things which is hard to explain to people.  For each person it varies in degree and in feelings. All I can attempt to do is describe it from my personal point of view.

Have you ever been in a full body costume?  If not try to imagine something like the Easter Bunny at the mall taking pictures. The costume covers the whole body. They get hot and stuff. You end up with a sort of tunnel vision because of the low visibility. You can’t feel anything you touch. No one can hear what you say (at least not clearly). Eventually all you can think about is getting out of the suit. Now imagine that the zipper is stuck and you can’t get the head off.

That’s what it felt like for me in the beginning. I wanted out of the male costume I was forced into at birth. I realized I was in the wrong body around the time I was 4 years old. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I thought I was a freak.  I would have given anything to find that zipper and just drop the skin I was in and be who I knew I was on the inside. But that never happened.

I could not find a magic item to transform me or at least put me in someone else’s body. Eventually around 10 I figured I would never get out of the costume and suppressed the little girl that was hidden inside. However this lead to the fear that someone might find out. I began to over eat and become antisocial. Know I have come to terms and am in transition.

I still have fears. Those fears are something to be addressed at a future date. Just know for many Trans-individuals I’ve spoken with and my case in particular fear can determine a lot of what we do and why.  I still want to rip of the outer layer unfortunately that’s not going to happen. For those of us who can’t stand our assigned gender (given at birth) who are forced to do something there seems to be three roads. The first is to hide. The second is to die. The third is to make the outside match as closely to the inside as possible.

While this does not explain everything on how this "disorder" affects me it’s a start.

Stories

     So I have this firm belief that everyone has a story. Each story is as unique as the individual which it belongs to. One story maybe of a different genre then another. For example some are horror, some are adventure, some are romance and some are lifetime specials. I have friend who's life fits into the later category.
     Because each story is different that means we may not like every story we hear. However we should still listen when someone tries to tell there story. If we don't like it then we should still be polite and not invalidate their story. I have known afew people who's story can be very inspirational if only you let them tell them.
     My friend who's life should be on lifetime is one of those stories. She inspires several people when they hear what she has survived. She is the reason why I'm trying to blog again. In my mind every time I see a spoon, a walking stick, or even a flip flop I think of her and what she has been through. She is an amazing person but you'll learn more about her down the road. The only thing however you'll here from me is where her life touches mine. The rest of her life is her story and this is mine.
       I've tried to write down things before in the past, journals and blogs. I have consistantly let life get in my way. Well here I go again. You may not like my story or agree with it but I think it needs to be told. I do this for me and not to please anyone else. I should have done this a long time ago. More specificaly about two years ago when things started to get realy interesting.
       Who the hell am I? I have a name I was born with, I have had several stage names, and internet disguises. However legaly and in my heart I have one name that rings true, Just call me Meg. I know that doesn't cover who I am and why anyone should care (not that I care who cares). I was born a boy although I knew from a young age I was a girl. I started seeing a therapist about two years ago and started on hormones shortly after that. I am a performer and a tech on plays. I make masks, I make custom props. I do a little of everything while doing nothing. I have been accused of having a gypsy soul. I like gypsies, hippies, and the old ways.
                       ABOVE ALL I AM ME .......JUST MEG