The Ghosts of Transgender Return

When it became clear that money was going to be in short supply around here, I started cutting back on my hormones. I went from 4mgs per day orally and a 100mic patch changed twice a week, to 2mgs daily and change the patch once a week. I may have to stop them completely. I feel the difference already. With this chemical reduction, and the troubling anxiety of my situation, there's a boiling cauldron of transgender anxiety brewing in me. I feel it, I see it, I hear it. It is a nervous tension that is screaming for help, screaming for relief. I'm having self doubts, wondering if what I've been doing to my body has been a grave mistake. What will I do, how will I exist. I have responsibilities that I will not be able to take care of. There are dark thoughts of crashing this coaster ride ending it all, an interruption in living, an interruption in life, my real life. A new chance at real life would never happen again. I thought it would never happen, I resigned myself that it wouldn't. Then life, happy life, oh so happy life. Living, breathing, feeling. And now, it's inching away, slipping, sliding, me unable to grasp it, hold onto it. How can I hold onto it? I've seen the darkness, been in the darkness, fought the darkness. I cannot live in the darkness again, for it is not living, not alive, not feeling. Existing is not enough, ...not enough. I've tasted the fruit of life, real life, a sweet nectar not found in the darkness. Life does not grow there, it lays dormant, the fruit without taste. It exists, but questions why, ...why, ...why.

I cannot go back...
Existence is not living...

Stephanie