wool-gathering, dieting, and some unexpected news…

To quote my sweetest foxling, “ssshhh… I’m here”

I have been drifting in and out of the blogosphere, usually on the periphery of you all’s consciousness, barely noticable. Taking care to check in for details about Aggie’s darling baby to be, Punky’s move and subsequent new blog, and CB’s antics, which bring a smile to my face. It seems as if you all are indeed fine, even without my constant presence and silly but well-meaning comments…

I have been knee deep in research, papers, book reviews, exams, and the odd day at work mixing chemicals and creating safe places for my microbes to grow. Ooh… I have also managed to coax another pineapple out of the pot and several orchids are now blooming as well as a bumper crop of organic onions that are taking over the bromeliad’s bench.

Apparently the word for the day is PROLIFIC. Spring is in the air, and as the trees stretch and ease their swollen buds open and upward to the blue skies, everything is beginning again, in riotous proportion. Even given the 3 inches of snow we had on Monday, everything is coming up roses, literally as well as in the figurative sense.

My dearling foxling is also in a season of change, testing the waters with not just a toe, but the whole leg. She has had some issues that she was not comfortable with me sharing, but has reently told me to speak of it, as I see fit, with the intent of perhaps helping and/or easing the trials that some of our kids are facing today. I have also not spoken of it because to do so would make it real, and in this space of safety and me-ness, I could not bear the questions that I knew would follow.

I have realized this past week, as I faced the changes on the horizon and pondered my relationships with you here, that I cannot carrry this alone, and hope you can forgive the delayed sharing of this deeply personal issue over which I have lost thousands of hours of sleep, as well as claimed a none too healthy dose of blame and guilt…

It all stared last August when she took a razor blade to her wrists at 2 am, and posted a goodbye on her Facebook. 25 minutes later, the state police broke down my front door and before I knew it, she was in an ambulance speeding away from me with the red and blue lights reflecting off her small, pale face. Away from me, the one who was supposed to keep her safe…

Her father and girlfriend did not take seriously the attempt and derided her in passive aggressive ways, complaining that she had nothing to complain about. So the second time she tried pills. This time the inpatient stay was longer, the outpatient shorter, and now her prescriber listens to her father and drugs her to his specifications. The prevailing thought in the house where she spends half her life in that she just has to get her head out of her ass, and she is just fine, just a bit spoiled.

Am I the one who “spoiled” her? With those years of being with her, educating her, giving her all the love that one mumma could possible hug and kiss and dance into one child? What did I do, how did I fail her on such a level?

She says she is “better” now. She is still struggling with sometimes crippling depression, but is doing very well in school and manages her panic and stress better today. She was cutting for a long while, but I see no new scars, and she seems more open and able to discuss her feelings and triggers.

One of the major factors in this whole damned mess is that she identifies as a Transsexual adolescent. She has chosen a new name, new pronouns, new friends, and a whole new identity. She has the rabid and forward-propelling support of True Colors, the LGBT group at school, and her boyfriend, who is also biologically a female. This is coming at an opportune time for me, I can say with a wry grin, as I have been doing in depth study about gender labels and the unsuitably of binary classification, as well as the sexual component of identifying as a Transgender person. So while this development was totally unforseen, at least I can think on some level I am becoming used to the idea that I have a son, not a daughter.

I know that my child is who I raised them to be; kind, compassionate, funny, strong, and capable. What I don’t know is how any of this is going to be ok, with my child trying to bloom in this vitriolic, hate-filled society that we pretend is still America. How can my child see themself as part of a society that assumes the right to beat and break their body at whim, simply because they do not fall into an acceptable category? And how can this sociology major only now begin to see how people of color must feel, being part of a society that systemically degrades, abuses, and marginalizes them? How can my sweet child now be faced with living a life centered on hiding herself from the world, just to feel safe enough to survive? How do I deal with this, not in a narsissistic way, but deal with what I thought I knew being untrue to the core?

To put it mildly, I am confused. I am being supportive, making a safe and welcoming home for my child when they are here, and basically avoiding thinking of it when they are not with me. I self sooth with a LOT of sex, making Paul the happiest man alive. I had to give up hiking for the interim, as I may be facing knee surgery, but that is a story for next week after I get the final tests back. So I pour all the love I can into my child, or at least as much as they will accept, and lavish my exhausted lover with every shred of emotion remaining. Luckily I think I am doing rather well, as I am still sleeping and taking a cart full of vitamins and probiotics to prevent further strain on my system. I also have my 4.0 back this term, and am enjoying immensely the classes I am taking, so that is a serious home run when I desperately need a win.

And there you have it, the reasons I have been a little distant, a little less-than. I am gonna stop here for tonight, and will be back on the bloggy-horse again soon. Thanks for waiting for me, and thanks for accepting me and my imperfect mess of a life. Despite the seriousness of this post, I am still happy, just a little tired and frazzled around the edges. More news about Paul, school, and life in general coming soon…

Namaste, my peeps. Glad to be back…

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6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. El Guapo
    Mar 24, 2016 @ 23:00:32

    There are parts of the country where she can live freely as who she is, despite all the hate elsewhere.
    I hope she fights the monsters in her head and wins.

    Reply

    • tishmoon
      Mar 25, 2016 @ 11:07:43

      Oh Guap… thank you… seeing your waves brought a smile to my face. Long time, no see… thanks for sticking around, too. =)

      I have no idea where she will end up or how this is gonna play out, but I have her back, and I hope that is no small thing.

      Reply

  2. Rose
    Mar 25, 2016 @ 01:22:08

    I’m on the peripheries, too, but I do read and I do send good vibes to you across the states between. Peace to you and your child. I know that once I “grew up,” I never blamed any of the lovings my mom heaped upon me as a young person for the negative things that came into my life. Likely your young’un will feel the same. ❤

    Reply

    • tishmoon
      Mar 25, 2016 @ 11:11:26

      Rosie girl, thank gods you are here!

      I think they tolerate my love more than they let on, and like the Runaway Bunny, I just keep telling them “I’ll love you no matter what.”

      Thanks for being around, it is good to have friends to lean on, even when you are too embarrassed to ask for the shoulder…

      Love to you and Larry…

      Reply

  3. Holly
    Mar 25, 2016 @ 10:35:18

    Oh hon, I have nothing but the insane urge right now to drag you and foxling into a huge hug and never let go. how scary for both of you, but also how awesome that foxling has you to be there no matter what.

    And ditto what Guaps said above…I work at a very LGBT-friendly college that attracts a lot of “T” students who aren’t able to be themselves where they came from so they come here to get their education but in a safer, close-knit environment. It gets better, sure, you just have to hold on to each other until you can get there.

    ((HUGS))

    Reply

  4. tishmoon
    Mar 25, 2016 @ 11:18:04

    Holly Hobby…. I’m so glad you are here!!!!!

    I’m trying to be that mum I was, you know, totally capable and strong… but sometimes this adulting thing is so damned hard! I hope I was always respectful and there for you when you had any doubt about your own sweet one…

    Your college is REALLY LGBT friendly? Our high school is SUPPOSED to be, but the fights are getting worse and they now shuffle “those” kids into guidance office for lunch in order to “protect their interests,” if they feel unsafe. I think that fish bowling them is the last thing that needs to happen, but as we have established, I am often wrong…

    Thank all that is holy for her Chorus teacher, who rabidly demands mutual respect from all in her classroom… the concerts she lives for!

    Again, thanks, my friend… I am glad there seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel, even if we cannot see it just yet… love you, my friend!

    Reply

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