I awoke uncertain as always, today. Fires are raging everywhere, thousands of people evacuated from their homes. The freeway I had to take was not closed but there were warnings on the news... and I had not been given a time for my appointment. I was determined to drive down there time or no time, appointment or no appointment. After all I'm willing and well aware of the risks involved with taking conjugated estrogen, and I wouldn't be so determined if this was not life or death for me in the first place.
I called the office trying to reach Dr. Hope, only to discover that not only was she not a doctor... but neither was she a man, but instead a deep voiced woman, a "case manager" for the behavioral health section. A deep voiced woman... who I mistakened for a man... this left me with mixed unpleasant feelings... First of all was guilt, for though she is unaware of my error, my whole life is in shreds because of the importance of being recognized as who I am... and second I wondered if this is to be my fate as well... I wondered if there will always be a sign that will give away who I am. Her name will remain Dr. Hope for the purposes of this blog, as regardless she still symbolizes that to me: hope... something I am desperately in need of.
I called again and again to find out she will not be in until 1:00 today, and nobody knew of my appointment. Against my better judgement... I stayed home. I slept most of the day today, temporary suicide, or so I thought, but suicide became my haunt tonight. I dreamt repeatedly of blowing my brains out with a shotgun... and standing outside my male body with its partially destroyed head hearing my mother run outside to investigate the loud noise, horrified to see my lifeless male body... I wonder what this really symbolizes, if dreams are constrained to one meaning or if they mean anything at all. To my sweetheart who has been my support during all of this nightmare since she met me (as it is a never ending nightmare save when I'm with her, and she makes me feel like me): I am sorry for these dreams, but they are dreams... nothing more. I refuse to end my life while you are there for me, the love and support you give me is enough to keep me alive. I love you.
I cannot describe exactly how long seven days feels like right now...
Unfortunately not fiction ~Claudia.