A life on stage

Yesterday I was part of a show at the House of Literature (Litteraturhuset/Literatur Haus) here in Oslo. I read a few of my new poems. They are funny and easy to read. The audience was nice and I got more praise afterwords than I’ve ever gotten before. My old poems tend to leave people confused and full of thoughts, and people often don’t know how to respond.  These new ones are different.

Last weekend, as I anounced here on the blog in Norwegian, Peterson Toscano visited Oslo. He is a comedian, actor and performance activist (among other things). As I helped him prepare for the show on Saturday, we talked about being on stage, how things cease to be personal once they become a text or part of a show.

How do you know if transitioning is right?

One person I feel a deep connection with, athough I have never met him, is Matt Kailey. His book Just add hormones made a huge impact and I am forever thankful. I missed gay transmale idols and humour, and he filled that gap. On Mondays he posts answers to questions from his readers. There is always a lot of food for thought there, and I really recommend reading his blog. The quotes here are from his post Ask Matt Monday: Is This Enough Reason to Want to Transition?

I subscribe to the philosophy that transition is a necessity, and that if you need to transition, you will, and that if it is right for you, you will know.

I tried for years to define male and female, gender and sex, thinking that I needed to know what these were before I could do anything about how I felt. No one has ever been able to define these concepts in simple ways without excluding several groups of people or their experiences. And neither could I. This made me more and more depressed. When I finally decided to follow my gut feeling instead of my head, I felt extremely relieved.

Winter survived

I have sirvived the winter. Haven’t been blogging lately. My new book is out and have recieved good reviews.

I am still not over my love from last year, but the relationship ended in september. We don’t talk, we don’t meet, but all the same I still think of him as the man of my life. He doesn’t love me and I should get over him.

I have no work. I have good friends and a good family. My professional writing life is moving on. And I am a mess. I am trying to figure out why.

The breakup is a big part of it. Also the tiresome process of getting all the letters so I can go and have my operation in Thailand (removal of breasts, ovaries and uterus). The latest news is that I need a letter from a gynecologist stating that my female internal parts are healthy. I don’t understand why. And I am pissed for them bringing this up now.

I am so extremely tired of living in a personal gender-limbo. I have been since 2006, so maybe it is just natural to be tired. I am just not sure how long I can keep hanging in here. My energy is mostly at an all time low.

In preparation for my surgery (allthough the date is still in the blue), I have stopped taking my anti-depressants. It went better than expected. I am feeling more, writing more and much less stable. I can go from sitting on top of the world feeling like superman to being tired of it all and not seeing any point in going on. Exhausting.

I fear that my depressions and instability may not be related to my gender issues – that it is something I just have to live with for the rest of my life. It scares me. I also fear that the process of getting the neccessary treatment in regard to gender has hurt me permanently. In my dark moments I think my experience with the Norwegian gender clinic (GID-klinikken) has made me a worse person than I was. That it has destroyed my trust in people and institutions. That it has left me unable to show compassion. And so on. I am loosing hope despite the fact that a possible date of surgery is getting closer than ever. The feeling of hopelessness takes over. I am not sure there is a point to this. I am not sure if my existence makes a difference, or maybe it makes a difference to the worse.

I miss my ex-boyfriend. He is the one person I know who could drag me out of my selfish, self-made hell. I miss talking to him. I miss the sex. I miss seeing his beautiful face. I miss hearing his voice. I am not telling him this. If it should be possible for us at some point to be friends, I can’t tell him how I feel now.

I feel like shit for not feeling that my daughter is reason enough for living. But when I am really down I listen to the people who thinks that  having a transgender parent is hurtful to children. Even though I know it is not true. And besides; guilt is a lousy reason to stay alive. Guilt for how she would feel if I died is not enough to keep fighting to be her parent.

And there it is again: I am tired of fighting. I am tired of defending myself and my own rights. I wish someone would do it for me, but I know no one will. A part of me really wants to give up, call it a day.

But I think living is a (bad) habit that I have become too used to, maybe addicted. So I am not going to kill myself. Writing this blogpost is actually a sign of things getting better. The months from January to april is blurred in my mind. I have not been taking care of myself. Applications not written, reports not sent, bills payed very sloppy. So now when my energy is occationally somewhat higher, there is an economical mess to take care of and it overwhelms me.

And please; no sympathy. Strategies for dealing accepted. No expression of joy to be expected.