Not So Sweet Emotion

     Been very emotional in recent weeks. One might say I'm moody or melodramatic. I've become somewhat withdrawn again realizing that no matter what I do to make others around me content, happy or satisfied most people will always find something to complain about. Of course in the Hospitality Business that is just part of the job. I can accept that we cannot please all of the people all of the time. But it's the passive aggressive individual that comes lashing out at me that really throw me for a loop. The set you up with questions that make little sense and when you don't kiss their ass then lunch out at you on a personal level. I loose sleep over those situations. I shouldn't, but I do. Mostly because I don't usually take that kind of a tongue lasing sitting down. I'm an easy going live let live kind of person until attacked on a personal level. Then I go from Calm Water to Volcanic Hell in a flash. 

     But the encounters that really hurt, I mean really make me feel like the world is ending are the family interactions that fail. I have a very giving heart. When my son needs a tank of gas to get to work I will go fill it. My spouse wants to have work friends over for dinner? I will gladly take off from work to clean the house and cook for them. Grandchildren, I do what is needed for them and sometime what is wanted by them out of love.  There is a host of other things I do for my family till exhausted. 

     Enter a time when I want to have a discussion or need comfort; nope - to busy scanning Facebook on their smart phone. I'm not feeling good. Dam me that I didn't want to eat dinner with everyone else. I'm hot in the car and falling asleep at the wheel, how dare I turn on the air conditioner because someone else will be chilled. My body is falling apart but I'm still expected to do the physical labors that I did when I was 20. These type of situations that erupt into a  Tony award quality drama fests are slowly eroding my confidence. I trust few people. Even fewer in my family. But the one that hurts the most is when my spouse talks about the trans person (trans man) at work, extols their virtue, and uses her relationship with him to watch the dogs so that I can drive her out of state to see her mom. I'm very glad she is so accepting of trans people. You all would love her. Expect when it come to me. 

I'm not to even bring it up. 

     I was told by a trans friend some time ago, not to expect that my spouse or family would respect me in the same light as she does every other trans person. Once again - it's too personal. It a personal emotion that is cracking inside me. A feeling of being isolated and alone while being at a beck and call of others. A feeling that, "Shouldn't I at lest be respected and listened to in light that I have given them so much?" Why must they respond with such a quip of sarcasm or drama at me. Can't I have a calming soothing concerned dialogue with my children or spouse? Hell no, I am not entitled to that. When I express my displeasure it is reported to my therapist. . Sometime it just pours out before I can think. Most of the time I hold things very tight till I can be thoughtful, but other times I'm just gasping for air or for a drink of cold water in the emotional realm. Yeah, I tend to be emotional; always have been. I have tried so many things to keep my irrational emotions in check. Things like hobbies, meditation, music and study of the Word of God. But I fail. Maybe tomorrow I will succeed. 

     

Long Trains Running

Yea! That was a great song. And yes - I've been on a very long running train. Been years I guess since I've blogged anything. Not much has really changed or happened to me. I passed the big 60 for age and continue pushing on in life, caring for grandchildren and parents. As a matter of fact most of the people in my age bracket have found themselves in the same situation. Caring for children and their parents - setting aside their golden years. I won't be able to retire anytime soon and figure I will pass away on the job.

I's weird, I've never really feared death ever in my life, being assured and comforted by various christian doctrines and teachings. I've always had total faith that my last breath on earth will end with my first breath in the presence of Jesus. But last night, out of nowhere it seemed I had an episode of anxiety about death. A fear gripping me like I have never felt. A doubt of faith? No. More like a regret of having achieved what I want in this life and being without the resources to ever accomplish said goals. A realization that at 60 I am halfway to 120 - which is the most anyone might live, but more than likely far less time available to me.

So what are my goals. First off to be able to set clear goals without being so ADHD about them. Secondly - transition. But that is an unreachable goal unless I am willing to sacrifice my relationship with my spouse, remaining son, parents, brothers, friends and grandchildren. Sure - I could scrape together the money, the energy, will power and endurance for the process. I've had to do many hard things. But the one thing I cannot bring myself to do is to disappoint so many others who have invested in my life so far. I cannot accept the idiom of self first. I was raised to put others first. It wouldn't be so bad if it were not for the fact that those others always seemed to be disappointed with me, or at the very least happy only for the moment and then suddenly want more.

And so I go on. Hopefully I'll connect more often then once in a couple of years. OR See ya when this train turns 65.

Hugs
Roanne.

The Talk

Many of us in the Transgender Community use Facebook on a regular basis to connect with each other.  It’s a great way of support and encouraging one another. But it can present some dangers to us in that there are some people that we may not want to see out profile just yet.  That happened to me recently.

I was sitting at the computer in my recording studio when my wife walked in, held up her cell phone and asked me, “Who is this? Do you know this person?”  There on her cell phone was Facebook recommending me “Roanne Montgomery” as a potential friend.  I could feel the blood drain from my whole body, even as my heart started racing and my hands went limp. “O. M. G!” A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. “The jig is up” echoed in my head. I slowly and deliberately took her phone in my hands, turned it so that we both could see the display. As Mr. Weasly said to Harry Potter just before he went into his Ministry of Magic hearing, “. . . . The Truth will out!”  And so yes I had been outed by Facebook. As we both looked at the profile I said in a very calm and controlled voice, “That is my secret.”

 There had been many times over the years where I would have panic and dysphoria attacks where she would notice and ask me if I was OK. I would just brush it off by saying; I have issues, deep issues in my heart. I told her someday I would talk with her about it but I wasn’t ready yet. Well, that day had now arrived. “That is me, I’m Roanne Montgomery.” She just looked at me blankly, as if I was pulling an April fools joke in September. Then she suddenly took in what I was really saying. “You’re Trans?" I had express that to her before, but clearly she hadn't taken it seriously. She continued, "I was going to ask if it was a distant relative or yours on the Montgomery side.”  I thought to myself oh crap. Did I just shoot myself in the foot? No, it was time to get this out. I had been trying to soften her up for a about a year or so by this time, bringing up the issues of Transgender and Gender Dysphoria so that she would be well educated about it. I really had for years wanted to be able to confide in her and talk about it with her. She really is that important to me as a partner. Being an extremely conservative Christian she was not at all compassionate towards our community. And she was not interested in taking the initiative to learn about these types of social issues. She had actually had a close trans M to F friend decades ago, but was so naïve about it that she never even notice. She had even roomed with this person at a retreat after the person had SRS. I had notice because I recognized some of the same symptoms in my own life, but didn’t really understand what it really was until years later when I began to read up on it on the web. Over the last few years we had many discussions about the subject and she became more educated about it and gained more empathy and compassion for Trans folks. Even at work she befriended a Female to Male person and invited him to dog sit for us.

Shaking in my socks, I closed out the project I was working on and escorted her to the living room where we sat down to have The Talk. We spent the remainder of the evening in the exchange of how I felt like a woman, wanted to be a woman, dressed like a woman and went out public on days when I was home and she went to work. We talked about my Facebook friends and my posts. She questioned me extensively on where I got my wardrobe and how I had shaved legs, arms and chest.What size of bra did I wear, how long had I felt this way, why did I get married if I felt like a woman, did I expect that she would be a Lesbian, etc?  We agreed that our children would never accept me as a trans person, nor would any of the family. Mostly she wanted to know how much money had I spent and did I still want to be married.  The one thing I found more disturbing is that although she listened, I  felt as though she really expressed minimal concern about my feelings or Psyche well being; or  how my trying to adapt to being born male and feeling out of place all the time. She did not accept that my dressing and going out was a way to cope with my issues.  In the end,  she strongly suggested that I shut down the Facebook account; which I did. She also discouraged me from  ever again being Roanne. She does not want to have any type of relationship with "Roanne" which I find hurtful since she has a good relationship with her trans friend at work. She did not want to see any of the photos of me, and wanted me to delete every reference of who I am in the world. She wanted to make sure that every item had been purged from my life. An ultimatum of either be the man she married or fix yourself to be the man she married. I sensed a threat of divorce in her disposition.   If you choose Roanne we are over. And never ever spend another dime of our ( interpreted as her) money for this again.

So this is where I am today. I have tried to comply in everyway to make her happy. But in our therapy sessions it seems that there is more that I need to do. After a couple of months I am approaching a meltdown point.  I don't know what else I can do to make our relationship work. For years we have lived more like room mates than a married couple in love. While she accepts other people who are transgender, she still has abhorrence and micro-aggressive disposition toward the community, (just expressed at me today) and a total dismissal of my feelings. Now, whenever I show signs of dysphoria she takes it as if I’m upset with her, or her handling of our bank account. A Trans-friend of mine here in NH told me some time ago that she would react this way and that we all have to make the decision of what will we do. I continue on because I have a strong belief in fulfilling the vows I have made including our marriage vows. Also because of our grandchildren. I've already lost 1 child and his children by their rejection I don't want to lose anymore in my life. So, as this started when I was a child so it is today for me. Every night with tears in my eyes praying to my God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, and hoping that I can get through the next day. Waking up into what seems like a never ending nightmare.

 

Therapy

     After a few months of therapy sessions that centered on my spouses fears and concerns we got into some muck last night. At the start of our session she announced to our therapist that I "keep my emotion, personality and other secrets buried so deep in my psyche that I live in a manner of just acting my way through life." It is a true statement that we had talked about last week in private. I do pretty much “Act” and attempt to portray the type of person that others expect me to be. It is what I learned to do from a very young age. I felt kind of blindsided by her sharing that - but I know it has got to be let out. Months ago I was ready to talk about that aspect of my life, even ready to come out. But the sessions had gone a different direction. Now, my/our therapist started asking some very pointed questions about my past and what in it could have me keeping my feelings so locked away. What is so bad that I can’t let it out. 

      In a New York moment I found myself teetering on the edge of a precipice. I felt very vulnerable, just behind a veil that was about to be torn away.  I could feel the tears just behind the curtain of my eyes ready to burst forth. Do I just blurt it out? As questions insured about my families attitudes I did mention how they were very afraid of “Homosexuals” and their ties to Pot. I even shared about my MtF cousin who had transitioned and was completely cut off from the family until his death a couple of years ago. I partly shared those points to see how my therapist and spouse would react. What I did learn was to never play poker with them. I could hear the woman within screaming at me to just tell them. For a moment I was there ready to open the door to the pit and throw down the rope. I considered all I have read and played a data burst in my head of the reveals that some others people had gone through; breakdowns, unkindly outed,  formal letters, etc. Thoughts of every aspect of my life raced around. My commitments, what people expected of me, what my spouse expected of me, what consequences would be and what I had experienced before at the hands of mental health professional who betrayed me. etc.

      But the moment passed as I rationalized and enacted restraint out of fear. Thus the conversation was steered by my spouse in the direction of the abusive, violent, militaristic and raciest experiences I had in my youth. She elaborated on what she had experienced and witnessed in the family during our early years of marriage. These are occurrences that I had long forgotten about. Things that had been done to me and against me; and my acts of rebellion caused by intense teenage emotions and angst.  Reviewing the learned behaviors that I had acted out, without self-control and the consequences that ensued. It was a needed conversation and productive; perhaps more than I realize and a pre-requisite to letting my real-self emerge. It left me shaken and shaking into the time of dinner. Overall – I indeed hope it is a step to becoming a whole person.

THE PURGE

     So, it has been a long time since I've written anything here. I had another blog for a while under Roanne Blackheart, but I shut that one down about 2 years ago during a purge. But guess what. As most of us discover the purge doesn't work. We try, very hard hoping not to disappoint ourselves. But purging who we are deep down is no better than trying to keep a New Years resolution. We are who we are. Chain me in the dungeon in the darkest part of the castle if you will. But my cry's in the night will haunt your sleep and disturb your days.
     So here I am again, back to a place of choice. People say that the Transgender person has no choice in their being different. It is true that I was born with the brain that is non-conforming with the body it lives in. But I do have a choice. That choice is to accept who and what I am in truth or to try and convince myself through denial that conforming to the expectations of others defines my identity. It is that later choice that causes a purge. I can say that it is an exhausting proposition at best. It takes an enormous  amount of effort and energy to maintain a persona that will live up to the expectation of parents, spouse, children, employers, friends, pastors, etc. And in the end one cannot satisfy everyone. Hope fades into oblivion and I become a stiff emotionless time bomb.
     At some point the fuse burns down to the point where all the pent up anxiety, desire and denied hope is mixed together like gun powder. Those emotions can no longer be contained and begin to expand uncontrollably faster than one can imagine. Everyone is hurt in the process. Nope, the purge does not work. Of course, you probably could of told me that.

Warm Days

I love spring. It is my favorite time of year. I love to sit in my yard and feel the sun warm my face. The trees are buding and green is starting to push though the warming soil. That's kind of what it was like when I began to discover my true self. As I read and studied more about transgender issues I could feel my ture self begin to geminate and start to push through the soil. What a wonderful feeling that is, to finally release the person who has been imprisioned deep inside for so long. I hope that sping will come into your heart every morning when you awake. Let truth set you free and enjoy the wamth for living in the open.
Hugs
Roanne

Glad That's Over

I'm so very glad that 2009 is over. It was really a bummer year. Really I'm glad the decade is over. ( I know, some of you will say it's not over till next year - tomato tomato) There has been some debate over what to call the last decade. For me, it was "The Decade of Death." To many people ( and dogs) that I knew or knew of, died. From 911 to my dog just last year.

So what can we call the next decade. How about a decade of transistion? Not just my own, or yours, but of the whole world. A transition from energy waste to energy renewel. A transition from pre-judged opinions to thoughtful - thought through revelation and tolerance. A transition from war to peace. I hope this next decade brings more joy to you than the last.

Hugs
Roanne.