6:02 a.m. - Wednesday, Jul. 24, 2002
Ms Leslie on Family, Friends and Fish
Hey.. you know what? I�m really doing OK right now. I�m struggling with my diet. I need to lose all I can before I leave for Thailand, and I�m not doing a lot, because I need to save money for the trip, but I�m basically OK. Oh.. and I�m still not smoking. I think that on Aug 1, I will declare myself a non-smoker. Don�t worry though� I�ll never be an obnoxious ex-smoker. I hate it when people do that.

Cliftsnotes, on the other hand, is struggling. He�s like my mirror image. Young. Born female, but fighting with all his strength to claim his manhood. There�s a lot I don�t understand about it. Like, why would anyone want to leave femininity behind and seek masculinity? But then I stop and think and realize that he doesn�t WANT to leave femininity behind. He hasn�t chosen to renounce his birth sex or assigned gender. It was no choice for him and more than it was for me. He�s a guy. Period. No choice.. any more than anyone else has a choice about this. His only choice is whether to roll over and just accept what his body, parents, friends and acquaintances assume about him, or whether to live his life as he knows he is and accept the challenges, heartbreaks, and joys that await him. Right now, I think he�s only getting the challenges and heartbreaks.

I wish I could make it easy for him. I wish I could show him that there ARE bright spots to be found in living honestly in the face of rejection and fear. I wish I could share with him the kindness I�ve received from people I didn�t know a year ago. All I can do is keep telling him there is life after pain and hope he hears that and believes it long enough to find out that it�s true. I wish I could make him understand that he doesn�t control the universe and he certainly doesn�t control the feelings of others. That how his family and friends choose to deal with his presentation of himself and his life is something that only they can do. That his responsibility is to himself, not those around him. That he needs to simply accept those who love him and hope for future acceptance from those who don�t. And most importantly, maybe, I wish I could tell him that this is a one way journey. He thinks he could make it better by turning back. But there is no back. There is only standing still or moving ahead. Standing still is living death. It�s being the angry transsexual or the beaten-down self-hating one. It�s wanting the world to conform to you, and not being able to make it conform.

There� are several ways for this journey to end. Only one of them has any promise of being acceptable. Some of the steps are 1) believing in yourself and accepting.. loving� yourself for who or what you are. 2) Asking for love and acceptance from others. 3) living without that love or acceptance from those who are not able to give it. And 4) Allowing others to love and accept you as you are. New others. The others you are sure don�t exist� but who do. Lots of them. You have to find them. You have got to make it happen.

�I�ve already done a long letter to Lio again today. I�m going to include it here. Some of it�s old stuff, but it�s new to her. Maybe it�s new to you too. Even if it�s not, this is where I try to preserve my thoughts. So deal with it, huh?

> Hell, I'm not mad! I just didn't get around to writing back yet. I'm

> overjoyed. I'm overjoyed because helping people find their spirituality is

> exactly the kind of person that I have wanted to be for a long time. When I

> read your letter a big grin came over my face, although I was a little

> worried that I made you cry. But, that has happened to me before, when

> dealing with spiritual matters, so I guess it's normal.

It's quite abnormal for me, but it's not a bad thing. For most of my life, I've been more than emotionally numb, I've been emotionally dead as a doornail. Very seldom did I laugh since 1966, and although I did cry, I could never let it be seen. I cried in the shower, silently; wondering how much longer this empty life could last. I cried in pain, despair and grief and was terrified even to do that for fear I would never stop. None of this had anything to do with any gender issues I might have had and everything to do with the psychic damage I suffered first in combat and then in coming home to face the hatred and rejection of my own country in the years that followed. I tried as hard as I could to live a normal life and never ever let anyone see how hurt I was, but I had to stop feeling anything, good or bad, to do it.

I'm a newborn baby when it comes to feelings. Only since maybe last Xmas have I started to feel some emotions other than pain or grief, or loneliness. And in order to start feeling some joy, I had, so they said, to allow myself to feel the pain and grief I was working so hard to keep inside. It's been very hard. It's been something that takes up almost every minute of every day. And it continues still. I still don't laugh much. It's like I only have one tool to handle my emotions. I cry when I'm sad or hurting, and I cry when I'm happy. I have some new friends face to face and they are sometimes a little frightened of me. If one gives me a little gift, I sob and cry like a baby. I can't handle genuine kindness or even respect when it's given to me personally. I'm trying. I'm getting better, but sometimes it's just out of my hands. And even that's a good thing. I'm learning that I can lose control of my feelings a little bit and the world won't end.

Some of the crying is, of course, hormonal. I cried for the winner of a barbeque contest on TV. I can't watch 'A Baby Story' because I'll cry like a grandma once the baby is born. Stuff like that. I can tell the difference. That kind of crying is funny. I don't mind. It feels good to cry for silly reasons. It's all I've got.

> Hoorah for Leslie (I

> love that name, it's so pretty)!

I happen to like it too. The ironic thing is, it's my actual birth name. I was named Leslie after my father. I was known as Leslie in school... later shortened to 'Les' everywhere except within my family, where I was always called by my middle name, 'Blaine', to avoid confusion with my dad.

> If I understand you correctly, finding your

> spiritual side might help you enjoy your life a lot more.

Having, or recognizing a spiritual side adds a new dimension to my life. Since I rejected mormonism and then christianity, I've denied that there is any kind of spiritual aspect to life on earth. I now think it was a problem with definitions. I could only define spirituality in narrow, christian terms and since I rejected the idea of a god, a 'spirit', or anything supernatural, then I couldn't find a place for�� what.... the uplifting of the being?? For what you might call spirituality.

I still reject the idea of the supernatural, for the same reasons I have already given. I don't expect to see ghosts or fairies or angels, but your letter has opened my eyes to the possibility that a person... even I.... can experience joy and wonder and even humility, without any particular purpose or design. That's what made me cry. To understand that I can dance if I want to. It's crazy, I know, but it's a big deal to me.

> I was thinking about your situation a lot yesterday, as I went through my

> daily business of changing diapers and washing dishes. What a fantastic life

> you have been living. So thoughtful and deliberate...changing your life into

> what you feel is the best possible life for you, a little every day. So many

> people I know sit around and wait and wait and wait for things to happen,

> but they never do. You are living proof that you have to MAKE things happen.

Lol.... It'll be fantastic in retrospect. Maybe in my memoirs. It's been a long one, and filled to the top with expereinces that maybe not everyone can have all in one lifetime. But it's also been a confusing one, and futile. I truly feel as if most of my life escaped me and I'm just lucky that I might be able to grab a little life before my body expires. You're quite right though... People don't realize that things don't just happen. When you say you have to MAKE things happen, you touch on one of the main sayings of my adult life. I've always told myself that nothing will happen unless I make it happen, and I've always told myself 'there is ALWAYS a way'. Like I've said before.. I'm a survivor. I may not have lived, but I have survived, and making things happen and never giving up have been two of the tools I've used.

> It is a very introspective life, though, and I can't imagine how you have

> survived the hardships without a spiritual side (ahh, but as we already

> discussed, there IS a spiritual side, just not one well recognized). How

> difficult it must be to leave your family and friends behind and strike out,

> pretty much on your own. Brave, but lonely,no?

Nobody Lio, will ever know how lonely. I don't know about brave. Being myself is pretty much compulsory now. I couldn't survive another day.. really.... unless I could start to live. So I don't feel all that brave, even though I'll admit, it's totally hard. The lonliness, though, actually is less lonely.

I've been everywhere. I lived in Alaska for ten years. I've been to places so remote that few humans have ever seen them. Yet it was in Alaska that I realized you are never more alone... and more in danger... than you are in a large city. It's the same way with family. Even though I was in the middle of them, I was alone, because I could never talk freely about my own feelings, or act in ways that might not be consistent with my image as a husband, father, son, or man. No one ever knew me. They only knew sides of me. It's true that once I started turning different sides of myself to them, some of them couldn't handle it. I'm rejected by them at the moment. But if they can't love me now, did they EVER love me? Is it worth submerging myself just to get that kind of love... even from family? My answer is no. I'd rather go it alone and be myself. ANd for those who can't handle me right now, I"m keeping an open heart. TOmorrow, they may decide they want me for who I am. I continue to send cards and to let them know I'm open to them. Whenever they're ready. It's not up to me. It's up to them.

> That made me think about your beta, without a name. You need somebody to

> come home to, more than a fighting fish. Part of living a happy life is

> somebody missing you when you aren't home. Have you ever thought about

> getting a pet? Do you live in a place where you can have pets? If we are

> talking about feeding your spirit, a pet can do so much along that line.

> Anything, a lizard, a mouse, a ferret, a kitten, a rottweiler. It's good for

> your soul in a million ways to share your space with another living thing.

> "You" is a wonderful and worthy project, but sharing your life and giving to

> others, even if it is just a ferret, gives your life a more fullfilling

> dimension. You need someone to take care of. Somebody else to worry about.

> It "grounds" you.

Sweetie.. I'm not ready for that. Ann (from my diary) decided some time ago that I needed something to take care of, so she took matters in hand and bought some plants and the fish for me. I have two small hibiscis plants, a trailing fig, a yucca plant, and a water bamboo. And the unknown fish. Don't ever tell her I said so, but she was right. I do get some pleasure from each of these. I had a hibiscis plant many years ago in Germany, which was one of the few things I truly enjoyed. I kept in in my office and it bloomed an average of once a day. The flowers were so beautifu I could hadrly stand it.

My fish, although I call him ornery, is full of personality if you watch him. I have unusual sleeping habits. He hates it when I turn on the lights at 2 a.m. You can tell. He tries to keep sleeping, but if the light stays on, he comes to the side of his bowl and glares at me. Yes he does.. he glares. And he's such a guy... in his own way. He's horny as he can be. He builds these huge bubble nests on one side of his bowl, in hopes that a lady fish will happen along. ANd he defends it with sideways displays of his fins, trembling with adrenalin and rage whenever I approach him, even if it's with his food. He actually ignores the food on favor of challenging me. This guy is itchin' for a fight. And of course, he sulks whne I change his water. That destroys his nest and it pisses him off to no end. Once he's in his clean bowl, he always sulks for a time near the bottom of it before finally rising to the top, taking a mouthful of air to form a saliva-covered bubble and start building a nest all over again.

The problem is.. I can barely take care of myself. I'm not good with responsibility. It's a subject for a whole new letter. Basically, I keep my clothing in boxes because I can't face the responsibility of owning a chest-of-drawers. When I moved to this apartment, I had no furniture at all, and few other posessions. I slept on the floor for eight weeks before I could bring myself to buy a bed. After two years here, I still only own my bed, a nice futon, a small TV, second-hand bookcase, very cheap computer desk, this old computer, my exercise bike and a table with two chairs. Oh.. and a vacuum cleaner. The reasons are very complex. My therapist is having fits with it. It's something that will take some time, I'm sure. One of the things though, is that I'm just sick to death of losing. I can't stand losing any more people, and I can't stand losing any more things. In my own twisted way, I guess I've decided that it's better not to have anything or anyone at all than to go through the pain of losing them.

The understanding between me and fish is that if I run away again, or in this case, when I leave for Thailand next month, that I would end his life quickly in the garbage disposal rather than let him starve in his bowl. The plants I would give to the universe. In truth, Ann was horrified and said no, she would take the fish but I have to be honest here.... Ann kills fish slowly. His odds are slim at her house. At any rate... it's going to be hard to lose him. If he was anything higher than a fish, I'm not sure how I would handle it. The only way I handle it now is by seeing him in my mind's eye as already dead. I can appreciate him in the moment, knowing that the day he's gone is alwyas coming.

> Being "grounded" is something I think we will talk about more in the future.

> Finding your spirituality, feeding your soul, is NECESSARY in order to be

> happy. You've been fighting for so long. It's time to TEACH YOURSELF to feel

> good.

Maybe later Lio. I know you're right. My therapist would be so proud of you. But for now, this is an issue that needs to wait until after my surgery in Septemeber. One thing at a time.

> Sorry so preachy. Do I sound horribly lame? Let me know. Love, lio

Lol.... sorry I sound so resistant. Lynn, my often mentioned therapist told me a long time ago that I am resistant to suggestion. Since then, I try to take a suggestion now and again, but I think she's right.I'm just a contrary old thing. If you told me to keep breathing, I suppose I'd be blue in a second.

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