About Me: 1 Year Post-Op Afterword, 2016

The older you get, the faster the days, weeks and months go by. Years ago seems like just yesterday. You start on a path with much to travel ahead of you: then, one fine morning, that journey (or that part of it) is behind you.

The last five years, from my first hormone to today, have been like that. Many of my posts have covered that. The last year since my SRS has also been that way; the last year of posts have shown that. As a recent post on Vox (by Lily Carollo) explained, transition and surgery, have their own ups and downs. When the novelty of the early days of transition wears off, when the reality of daily life, the paperwork, the transactions, and, frankly, the blood and guts of post-op arrives, you find out what transition and post-transition (if there's such a thing) involves. And a year after my surgery, I can say with utmost confidence that I have no regrets about having it, or transitioning as a whole.

The world, of course, continues to be the world: with its convulsions and horrors and, sometimes, even still ... its moments of beauty. There have been many times in my life where I've felt as if I've had no filter when taking in information and energy (for lack of a better word) from the world around me, but this last little while, I feel I've begun to develop one. Simply put, when you know yourself, you take less. A time out (staycation, retreat, rest, etc.) is a time out ... period. I've learned, painfully at times, self-care and boundaries; interesting the things you can do when you're solidly in your body.

Internally, all of the usual suspects (depression, OCD, anxiety) are, naturally, still there to be contended with. And contending with them I am. I've uncovered deep emotional issues with food that I'm seeking help with. For years, I've used food as a substitute for company ... for affection, and it's led to some unhealthy habits which I'm confronting and hoping to overcome and change. I'm also a hoarder for much the same reasons. I hope to be able to make more space for others in my life. I aim to live healthier and happier, treating myself better, than I use to.

Just over a year ago, I posted an anti-Valentine's Day piece. I'd like to amend it. I'm not anti-Valentines; I'm also in no hurry. Life is short and often I think, there's nothing in the world I would like more then to be with someone: but, at forty-five years of age, I'm willing to take my time; the dating/relationship rat race ended a long time ago.

I didn't do much gardening last year, until October anyway, as I was either at home recuperating or gradually settling back into work. But, I still dream of the country and living sustainably off the land. I'm beginning to think that that's my next "career": farming and writing. Someday soon, going with him, someday soon ...

Writing these posts used to seem so easy, but over the past year or so, they have seemed more like long, painful births. They include equal parts melancholy and joy; nostalgia and an accelerating forward. I have tried post pieces that will give readers a taste of my own mind, before, during and after transition (which never ends, I keep forgetting). I hope I have done that.

And now I ride off into the sunset of the rest of my life ...

25,000+ Visits and Counting!!!

 
Hi readers! This blog has made it past the 25,000 mark and I am just pleased as punch! Thank you so much for stopping by!

And do keep following and commenting as well!

Love, Vanessa

2015 Goals Review and 2016 Goals

Today, my hangover is not from last night (I rang in the new year at home), but has been years in the making. Five years of transition, with the preceding few years being especially dark, and the last twenty years of living on my own in Vancouver, getting established, working through deep emotional/spiritual issues, forming and maintaining friendships, managing my life and, then, preparing for and undertaking transition, and recovering from surgery. As I write this, nearly ten months after SRS, I am most of the way through my year long recovery. I have for the most part been very staunch about boundaries around my recovery, doing my aftercare no matter how demanding and tedious, resting when I needed to, taking sick time when I needed it, not taking on any activities beyond what I could handle and, perhaps most important of all, not taking on the emotional energy of others. All in the service of my sole 2015 goal: to get through surgery and my recovery, to put myself first, physical and mental health-wise. Yes, this was a challenge; like other people, I do not live in a vacuum and processing the distress of the world, past and present, has been a burden for most of us.

Now that I have almost completely recovered (I realize that last years' goal carries over into the first quarter of this year), I set my sights on this year. Health will continue to be a top priority: overwhelm, sleep, mood, nutrition and diet, and fitness will remain important. This year, I have three goals:

1. Finishing my recovery period

2. Improving my overall health and fitness

3. Focusing only on my writing (outside of work) as a creative activity

To elaborate:

1. I will continue to follow my aftercare (dilation) schedule which is currently once daily and will change to once weekly starting March 21 and continue that way for the rest of my life. Also, I will get regular check-ups, lab tests and any other health care service I require as soon as required.

2. I will (other than this blog) avoid social media involvement after 11:00 pm nightly and will get to sleep promptly, doing anything I need to do to facilitate the proper amount of night time sleep. I will eat a more balanced diet (I have a sweet tooth which I am sure has deep emotional roots) and take up a fitness routine, likely something t'ai chi related along with some light cardio.

3. For years, I have tried to do as much as possible: I can no longer sustain this. I choose to focus on writing this year as I would to further develop some ideas I have had in mind.

Those are my 2016 goals! Best of luck with whatever goals you may set for yourself!

Happy New Year!

 

I would like to wish all of my readers a very Happy New Year! Thanks very much, as always, for stopping by. Best wishes to all of you in 2016!   Love, Vanessa

Merry Christmas To All!

It's been a while since my last post, but such is the nature of an eventful year that flies by.

I want to wish all of my readers and their loved ones and very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Also, best of the season to those celebrating winter solstice, Kwanzaa, other festivities and nothing in particular. You could be gathering with family, biological and/or chosen, friends, intimates and you could be alone and doing compassionate service or emergency work of some kind. Best seasonal wishes to you as well. Reach out to those who have no family or friends to celebrate with this time of year. Keep each other in your hearts.

Merry Christmas To All!

The 45 Degree Angle: Happy Birthday To Me!

Usually when I wake up on the morning of my birthday, I temporarily forget what day it is; then, after a few seconds, it dawns on me. Today, it REALLY dawned on me. Halfway through a revolutionary decade, twenty years in Vancouver, the year of my SRS and recovery, the long hello and goodbye of transition ... that's what 45 means to me.

And the irreplaceable wealth of friends, family, colleagues and others.


I am touched by all the birthday messages today on FB and by the words of congratulation from those of you I met today as I fulfilled my birthday plan of taking it easy.

Thanks so much! I love you all!

Vanessa

All Right Now

Time, when your daily routine is the same, passes without little or no notice; then, one day, you realize not just days or weeks, but months, have passed. At the end of this summer of recuperation, I am gradually getting my energy and stamina back, but it has been an uphill climb. On shortened hours, half my day is back at work with the other half being at home sleeping, dilating, eating ... functioning. I am fulfilling my one and only resolution for this year, to get through surgery and recovery, to do radical self-care. Physically, it has meant listening to my body and knowing my limits, prioritizing my post-op aftercare and exerting only as much energy as I can, regardless of what anyone may say about it. This is also true emotionally. I have learned not to take on other people's issues, absorbing their anxieties. There are energy suckers around who want your attention, your energy and all the rest. To them, I have been staunch about not letting them have it.

More than ever, I have lived on my own terms and needs.

And my cat's. Tatum became ill with pancreatitis in late May/early June while I was still off work. A few vet visits, an x-ray, an ultrasound and several medications later, he had made a full recovery, but it had been a tense few weeks. It had reminded me of how vital a friend he had been in all the years since I had adopted him, years ago when we were both shipwrecked in life. Since then, he had watched me through some very dark times and many changes. I was not ready to let him go just yet.

Last Monday, August 24, was my twentieth anniversary in Vancouver. Once long ago, I arrived with only two pieces of luggage (although six boxes arrived a couple of days later), but much baggage. Devastated by grief and terrified of disease and mortality, I sought to make a radical departure from the life I had led up until then, to overthrow old habits, learn new things, to live the healthiest life that I could. Every day was a brave new world. I still have a few souvenirs from those days: my meditation cushion and various shrine ornaments, supplemented by two of my late mother's brass candle holders, a second-hand Cowichan sweater, my first new item of clothing that I bought at a bazaar in the old UBC student union building. The future was completely open, the world seemed friendly. I miss those days, but I am glad I had the privilege to experience them.

I turned out that the student union building would have more in store for me then just clothing bazaars. During that first year of graduate school, I did the volunteer orientation for CITR FM, but I would not have time for volunteering until over a decade later. It then became the setting for my nightlife as a radio DJ. Some of the swing dances I went to, and DJ'd, were upstairs in the party and ballrooms. I grew with both of these. Eventually the dances there faded and I left the show. At the end of this past June, CITR moved into the new student union building, called the Nest. I went to the on-air continuous wake on the last Friday evening of that month. An alumni from the 1990s had me on as a guest for about ten minutes. I played two songs and then talked about how great the new studios looked, then made my way. I missed those days as well. Adding this to my reflecting on my transition this past spring and summer has made this year more melancholy and nostalgic than I anticipated. Music will always be a deep part of my life.

Part of coming into one's own is taking your place in the world, becoming aware of it's state and finding where you can be a service.

The world is in dire shape and I feel the need to be a part of the solution. I know it will be a world of tough choices and sacrifices and I am steeling myself for it. My personal goals of the past twenty years have led to this point. The decisions I make on how best to live, be activist and contribute to a newer world will be built on top of them. We now head into the thick fog we call the future.