Even though it’s been very mild on the whole, it has been a very long and lonely winter. Severe bouts of depression have been interrupted by our transgender group meetings, visits to my nephew’s place afterwards, and the occasional coffee with friends. For all of these things I am particularly grateful.
The past week to ten days has been a complete roller-coaster of emotions, for various reasons, but this past weekend I managed to feel a blessing on the edge of calamity and it has given me a new perspective.
I will say from the outset that I don’t intend to pull any punches with this blog. I will say my piece, with complete openness and honesty, about my personal journey towards transition and all other matters surrounding it which I feel are relevant or may be of interest to anyone reading my posts.
That will mean that no subject matter is taboo, no matter how private, and without regard for anyone else’s personal bigotry or dogma. If anyone is made to feel uncomfortable by anything that I write here then they are quite welcome to go read someone else’s blog, that is their choice in a free world. This is my blog and I reserve the right to voice my own opinions on all matters.
Today’s post is about the early changes which my body and in some ways my mind are going through, and my disappointment and dissatisfaction with the way the NHS in the UK “processes” the needs of people with Gender Dysphoria.