no group therapy for me

By now I would have been starting with Helene’s group but here we are in September and I never made the call.

The more I reflected, the more I came up with the same answer that they cannot help me. Sitting in a room with people in various states of transition will do nothing for me.

Moral support? Perhaps yes that is something that this venue could provide but little else.

My fear is also that by entering into such a group you open yourself up to the potential for having a little transition cheerleading section. I know Helene promised me that this would not be the case but in the end I was not sufficiently convinced.

The secret for a disphoric like me is management and when I explained my own plan to Helene in our private meetings, she thought it was a good one. Everyone has their own.

My aim as always is to stay away from hormones as well. I think they will only add to the turmoil that already naturally resides in my brain.

She told me that I am one of the best read and informed people she has met in her practice and I flat out admitted to her that my emotions betray me and that fundamentally I know I am suffering from an illness. Gender disphoria is an illness and caving into its allure is not necessarily the answer any more than wishing to be black and having the plastic surgery to accomplish it would be the right answer.

I am sufficiently torn to understand that making a change to the other team would be a mistake.

On another note, I visited a friend last week who has been diagnosed suddenly with pancreatic cancer. I have known him for 11 years and he is one of the more decent individuals I have had the pleasure to work with and also call my friend. I pray for him and his family all the while knowing that its one of the toughest forms of cancer to defeat. He is only 53 years old.

Life is like that. It appears senseless sometimes.

The other night as N and I spoke on the phone she mentioned my disphoria and that in dealing with it all my life I was able to be more sensitive to the plight of others who may be different in society. I think she is right and that sometimes through our own crosses we can serve as inspiration for others to continue to carry theirs.

I know my brave friend has inspired me.

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