More Holiday Parties

The closer we get to Christmas, it seems, the more holiday invitations we receive. In fact, yesterday, we got two more.

The first, is a small get together at the restaurant we go to regularly this Saturday night. The second is a bring your own dish affair after Liz's martial arts class Wednesday night. Which means we will have places to go three nights in a row next week. Two not fancy and one really fancy.

Looking ahead (for once) we have decided to get our nails done in advance this weekend, while we have the opportunity.

I don't get the feminine kick which others do going to the salon. I guess it partially comes from not understanding the language which is being spoken. If someone has something to say about me, I want to know it. Then again, I might be making the whole thing up...which is worse. 

At any rate, the prices are reasonable and Liz has been going there for years, so all is good.

The Anti "PTSD"

My last blog post here in Cyrsti's Condo revolved around Transgender PTSD and how I experienced it Sunday. As luck would have it, the pendulum swung and today was absolutely wonderful.

I accompanied Liz to three of her doctors appointments and encountered several nurses/doctors who I realized have met me several times over the past several years. They were very nice as always. But, it was the other patients and nurses we encountered who made the difference in the day.

I don't know why yet but if I get a good start on the day and feel good about my overall presentation, the day just goes better. It is easier said than done, I know I should attempt to get off to a good start all the time, then again any woman feels better on different days.

Today on elevators (another of my biggest paranoia's) I even participated in conversations with other women, two of whom called us "ladies."

There is no worse feeling than gender dysphoria going wrong for a transgender person, and no better feeling when you don't have to worry about it.

If you remember my last blog post about dysphoria gone wrong in the ladies dressing room, Connie had another take on hearing heavy footsteps:

 FABULOUSCONNIEDEEDecember 11, 2018 at 5:04 PM

"Heavy footsteps may have made me wonder if there were a cross dresser in the next stall.

One of the rules (written into the bylaws) of the local cross dresser social club is "no talking in the ladies room." Of course, if you have your feminine voice perfected, that wouldn't be an issue.... unless a baritone voice answers back. :-)

As I've often said, there is always something on any given day that will burst the bubble, reminding one of her transgender status. Fears we have from the past, whether real or imagined, can be triggered by the smallest thing. I'm glad you were able to shake it off and compose yourself in the moment."

That's a great idea! I should have stayed around to find out! 

As far as my voice goes, some days I think it "passes" better than others.

Transgender PTSD

Sunday, when we went to pick out Liz a new outfit for her Christmas parties, I experienced a feeling I hadn't went through for awhile...Trans-PTSD.

If you don't know what PTSD means, here is a short definition from the "National Institute of Mental Health" :

"PTSD is a disorder that develops in some people who have experienced a shocking, scary, or dangerous event.

It is natural to feel afraid during and after a traumatic situation. Fear triggers many split-second changes in the body to help defend against danger or to avoid it. This “fight-or-flight” response is a typical reaction meant to protect a person from harm. Nearly everyone will experience a range of reactions after trauma, yet most people recover from initial symptoms naturally. Those who continue to experience problems can be diagnosed with PTSD."

It's been awhile since I have experienced a short time like I did Sunday. To start with, Liz picked out five dresses to try on. As she was going back to the women's dressing room, I was prepared to stay out side in the store until she (Liz) said, get back there with her to tell her how she looked.

Without hesitation I followed her back without even a look from the girl monitoring the rooms. I felt OK until I heard heavy footsteps coming into the stall beside us and all of the sudden, I was expecting a knock on our door asking what we were doing in there. For an instance all the ancient memories of rest rooms past came flooding in on me. To the point I could barely take a breath! After a moment though, my panic subsided and I felt so relieved (as well as a little silly). 

I just don't know after all these years without a problem, I would still feel this way. Perhaps I always will.