Friday, June 3, 2011

Tomorrow is the day

On 31 May morning I woke up wondering when finally my period was going to start, the last in my lifetime. My mind then did what it does habitually every morning, taking stock of things that need to be done that day - one hundred and more tasks - and then I felt the blood. With palpitating heart and very sweaty hands and a grin from ear to ear I washed my head in the icy stream, did the icy rub-down of the body, a morning ritual of the last sixteen days (to continue to 1 July, damn metropolitan watsan and pipe maintenance people!) and ran out to the closest pharmacy. Nada. Went to two more, none of them knew what I was talking about. "No, never heard. Are you sure you're saying the name correctly?" So again, I emailed the pharmacology lady, asking her in which of their vast number of outlets the medication was being sold. Then waited... Skipped out to lunch with a friend... Then waited again... Skipped out to borrow two books from another friend as my reading material's at the dangerous low level these days... Again, waited... Finally I got an email back with a phone number and spoke with the pharmacology expert. She said they started importing that particular (and the only available in Mongolia) brand of T only very recently, and that they just finished training medical staff on the pharmacological qualities of the medicine. And there were only 10 dozes they imported, and how many did I need? And why did I not call back earlier, everyone was now off for the Mother and Child Day the next day, please check back after the holidays. Since I was still engrossed in the intricacies of the Mongolian traditional and historical attire yesterday, I had no time to go and pick it up, but I went today, and was told that I should come back tomorrow as they still had not received the stock from the main warehouse. So tomorrow is the day. Finally, after so many years. I told one of my straight male friends (who at some point was quite in love with me, which really infuriated me because he should've never fallen in love with me in the first place) very recently that I was beginning to transition, and he was not very surprised, which surprised me. Has it always been so obvious? Maybe to some people.

Now, all the significant events in my life are veiled in the atmosphere of inevitability, things often happening exactly when they needed to. Sometimes the fact of inevitability would not cross my mind at the moment right when those events were taking place, but looking back, yes, they were all meant to be, and right on time, and right for the right reasons. Some call it serendipity. I call it karma. Could it be that my karma had finally come to fruition that I could no longer live in this body, that I would rather die than continue living in this fleshly prison that T was suddenly available on time within the timeframe I had planned to start my transition?... Definitely. Serendipity, again. There are, of course, many concerns not directly related to my HRT per se, but to the peripheral matters such as safety, my paramount concern, and then there are long-term matters such as surgeries, where and how. All these matters I am thinking through by myself, sharing only with Otgoo, my bro, and unsuccessfully with ex. All these are smallest, but eventually probably the biggest details - my own place, no matter if it's only 15 square metres, but it has gotta be my own as opposed to a rented place. All my life I'd rented, my earnings, when I had them, always halved by the rental, and the rest of the earnings going into daily necessities. Although 34, turning 35 in a few months, I never had been able to save. Literally all the money that was earned was spent in the next few days or weeks for all the necessities. Definitely not a middle class existence when you have to scrape by from paycheck to paycheck, calculating everything you can and can not spend money on - Persil Gold, as wonderful as it may be, had never been an option for washing powder. My own place from where I will not get kicked out of because I moved in visibly still female, although always in male getup, and had transformed into a bearded dude. My own place where I will be able to feel safe and unstressed about when I was going to be kicked out, under what pretext. Where people will not burst in with murder in their eyes just because they are confused and scared of me. But apart from that there are other things to consider. Other people's needs. Other people's priorities. How does one balance these out? I have needs, but other people have needs too. Where possible, it should be balanced, with mutual effort and understanding. Not through a simgle-minded "It can not be done" which is equal to claiming more importance and priority over the other. Had I had more, I would offer more. Had I had any, I would offer even that any... If even that simple truth of who I am is not understood, how can any sense be made?

Tomorrow. I am having a wave upon wave of gratitude for everything in my life, regardless of anything. Despite of, or rather, even, thanks to everything. I am so psyched that I know I won't be able to sleep tonight. Much is to be written down from tomorrow onwards. It's been a long, long, long journey. Too long. But now, no denial of any pain, never denial of any wrongs, of mistakes and stumbles and sprawls that halted my life to screeching stop exactly three times in my thirty four and half years. Never denial of what was good or bad. Honouring the past and the present. And the future. 

put on a face

put on a face                      a brave face, a dead face put on a face and go. put on a face                       a kind face, a br...