Atypical Trans Late Bloomer

first draft published Sept 10, 2018 " You'll always have Hope! ", I've been told, but I don't believe it. More specifically, I don't see a reason to believe it. Which got me to thinking: what does Hope mean? Wiki says: Hope is an optimistic state of mind that is based on an expectation of positive outcomes with respect to events and circumstances in one's life or the world at large. As a verb, its definitions include: "expect with confidence" and "to cherish a desire with anticipation". Hope is a positive expectation of the future. Hope is faith in future good outcomes. Hope is no small matter; research indicates the presence of hope can affect medical outcomes; a recent Presidential campaign choose Hope as an organizing theme. Hope. It's what makes a Subaru, a Subaru. Wait... Well, what is the opposite of Hope? dejection, hopelessness and despair; perhaps fatalism. Is hope a force that displaces despair? Does that...

Although I'm told I'm making progress, and I feel like I'm better in some ways, there are so many ways that I'm not better, I'm not healed, I'm not even approaching the target. I think about suicide a lot less, and when I do think about it I don't dwell on it as deeply. I don't think I'm as routinely angry as I used to be, but there are still days and things/stimuli that push me to anger. There are days when I am bereft : deprived or robbed of the possession or use of something lacking something needed, wanted, or expected suffering the death of a loved one, in this case, childhood me. I still have depression, anxiety, and PTSD. When I go low, when my WOTD is bereft, morose, I often don't know what to do or where to go or how to start. This is the music I sometimes play on those days. It touches my soul, which is not a phrase I often use. Paul Robeson , 1926 I can sit and sing this song and let it wash over me; it does not diminish my povert...

At various times in the last five years I've been in the care of several mental health professionals. R began seeing my wife and I for marriage counseling, then split us up for separate individual counseling. After a while R told me that 'you might be better served by another counselor', which I came to recognize as standard phraseology. R fired me. R had a MSW and focused on Christian counseling. Then my wife and I went to M for marriage counseling. Again, M split us up for separate counseling and then periodically saw us together. M was brilliant, had a MSW, and focused on Christian counseling. There came a time when M told be that "you might be better served by another counselor" and she fired me but she recommended a gestalt practitioner because I needed to reconnect my left and right hemispheres. I went to see X, who was a Christian counselor and wanted to make sure I was right with the Almighty before we got into my specifics. I told him I wasn't there...

October 1, and I'm back in a house. It's so much better. It's a big transition. The mail shows up. The bathroom is private. The door locks. The weather stays outside. Electricity and lights. Heat and air conditioning. The wifi works. There's a printer. People know where to find you. This does not suck. I think it's going to take a little while to get used to.