The hotline nurse said it's possible I had a mini-stroke. This is common with untreated diabetics. This of course would put me at risk for an actual stroke down the line. But can be monitored closely. Now I'm thinking that I won't get any answers on Monday... since I am seeing the nurse only. I will get a blood draw, and there will be a mandatory follow up, hopefully with the booked solid doctor, in which I can get him started on the transition therapy if I have to stick around here for a while. Providing T doesn't mix badly with .. whatever meds I'll be on I guess. I'm going to stop thinking now. I need a break from thinking. My sister is out of the house, I just had 'breakfast' with my ex in NYC (we have meals while FB messaging. It's sweet) -- and I have a dinner date at like 5 ish.
As I become myself, I am outgrowing old defense mechanisms. They still pop up but I have to battle them down now. There are also some beliefs I have to shed. This has really been quite the year when it comes to 'transition' and not just the 'transgender' type. Finding myself attracted to different types of people than before, different ideologies than before, growing and changing. With me of course there always has to be this big dramatic fight within before this change takes place. Whatever is going on in my body feels superflous sometimes to the other changes-- the changes of soul and mind. Madness seemed to be descending there for a bit and I dived far into the abyss and saw the face of the enemy.
The face of the enemy is US. The face of the enemies is groups of rabid people unsatisfied with their lives and dying to be heard by hook or by crook. All by design. The face of the enemy is a machine so big it blocks out the sun. But all machines have weaknesses. One bolt missing can take a tank down if you pull the right bolt. And so it goes, until the end of time. On my deathbed-- or in the gutter I fall in, I want to be able to say I made a difference. So soon as I get my health under control (thought I had it squared away! ) there must be action. There must be praxis. I cannot sit here any longer. My sister is going to have to make way and find a way to deal with my being here a bit longer it would seem.
Denver is looking good now. I may let go of Portland.
Maybe I will try to just visit Portland. I did have my heart set on that dinner with my ex. Sushi at Yoko's... ok let's see if I can swing the return trip and I will just visit Portland.
Fuck. My heart is racing now, and I had a pain in the side of my head. I hate sitting here all weekend wondering whether I am going to have a stroke or maybe I just have nothing wrong with me other than a recurring uti, who the fuck knows at this point. It's all just so distressing. All the time. I pray daily for my sister to die in a car crash on the way home. That is not sustainable.
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