Sure, as chronological years go, I hope my "double sixes"- 66 years continue to serve me fairly well. This time I am writing about the remembrances of a simpler time when all I had to do was obsess about when I was going to sneak out and what was I going to wear.
An example is the picture to the left, which I call an ancient "photo shopped" mirror selfie.
Well, the good old days are now with me. In fact when one one the Eagles' songs came on the radio the other day, it took me back to an extremely dark and ugly time in my past.
I knew I had severe gender issues but in the mid 1970's I had no idea of what to do about them except try to drink them away. Which in turn, made it worse.
If it wasn't for my infant daughter, I don't know how I did make it then. She was grown with kids of her own when I tried an actual weak attempt at suicide. I say "weak" because I know now taking a full bottles of certain pills won't kill me.
So, these are the good old days and sometimes I think I need to write posts like this to remind myself and others of how desperate being transgender can be,