Becoming Indigo

To someone on the outside looking in, it looks like I am just taking steps now towards becoming Indigo. I've been using the name for nearly 3 months, in all aspects of my life, except where my legal name is required. August 29th, I got to hear Indigo in a legal setting for the first time, as I took the first steps towards my legal name change. I'm doing things to alter my appearance, some in drastic ways, some in ways only people close to me will notice. These are all steps to becoming the "final product", so to speak. There is no final product to speak of. I am forever a work in progress.

And that right there brings me to the point. I am not just now becoming Indigo. This is a part of me that I didn't see in the mirror because it was hiding for 39 years. Around my birthday this year, this part of me that I could always feel hiding poked its head up for the first time when I looked in a mirror, and it winked at me. It took me a little while to recognize exactly what it was, but once I did, things fell into place nicely.

Someone asked me the other day if I chose Indigo for the colour or for indigo children. I smiled and said, "It's for an Indigo state of mind." It's the best way I can explain it. That part of me is just so very... Indigo. I am who I have always been, since I was very small. I'm just bigger and louder about it now.

I've always been Indigo. I just didn't know it.

Chapter 1 Sneak Peek

Here's a super special sneak peek at Chapter 1 of my next book, currently titled Unveil: Book Two of the Marshall Law Series, due to be released this fall. I'm editing it as we speak:

One year...

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes.

365 trips around the sun.

Each of them beginning and ending with words to or from Dawson.

Today marks one year since we officially became a couple, and so much has changed in that year, and yet so much has stayed the same.

One thing that changed was my gender identity. Well, not really. I just woke up to what it really is. Recently, I realized I am genderfluid. And Dawson's response to that news has been nothing short of amazing, as he has been with everything my crazy life has thrown at him.

Every whiplash-creating turn I make, he's right there, along for the ride. Blue hair? Okay. Purple now? Great. Oh, we're gonna go green this month? Alright. Well, this time I outdid myself. I'm not blue, purple, or green. I've got the whole rainbow on my head. With the potential of being a mohawk. And he just keeps telling me he loves it.

And I believe him.

52 weeks ago, give or take, I fell in love. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced before.

Happy Anniversary, Dawson. I love you.

My New Reality

Fifteen days ago (April 8), things seemed a little off. I was having some trouble with my coordination... getting my left side to cooperate with my right side was a challenge. Thirteen days ago (April 10), my ear felt "full". On the 11th, I felt pain behind my ear, in my jaw. The 12th, I woke up swollen, and my coordination was even worse. I went to the doctor, and he said I had an ear infection. and prescribed me antibiotics The morning of the 13th, I woke up feeling like I'd spent hours getting fillings done. The left side of my face was entirely numb. I couldn't feel my tongue. I headed straight to the clinic, and was told I have Bell's Palsy. That doctor prescribed prednisone and an antiviral.

Today is 10 days since the paralysis of Bell's set in, and it has not improved at all. I've heard countless stories from people about how their relative or friend or even they, themselves, had it, and they either turned out fine or still have effects from it years later. I hear a lot of "I'm sorry" and a lot of silence.

People don't know what to say or do. It's not a killing disease, so they figure I'm fine. They don't ask questions, either, though. I've been told it's all I talk about now, but people aren't actually listening. So I'm repeating a lot.

So I'll lay out what Bell's has meant to me here.

Pre-diagnosis, I was going to aqua fit, getting out of the house at least 3 times a week, and had a ton of energy.

Since diagnosis, I have been run down, in a new kind of pain constantly, exhausted by 8 pm every night, and not sleeping worth a crap. I stopped aqua fit because my left eye does not close, and I'm worried that the chlorinated water will cause an infection, since I can't blink it out of my eye.

Pre-diagnosis, I was losing weight at a reasonable rate, eating healthy-ish, and doing things to boost my health.

Since diagnosis, I've lost interest in food because I can't taste it. I have been struggling to eat enough, and as a result have been losing too much too fast, though some days my weight jumps up for no discernible reason.

Pre-diagnosis, I was taking steps to get my whole health back on track, including taking care of my eyes and general health.

Since diagnosis, I've been feeling like I'm scrambling at all times just to take care of my basic needs.

Pre-diagnosis, I would listen to music at all times as a way to distract me from my own thoughts.

Since diagnosis, I have to have music on softly or not at all because noise of any real volume hurts like an ice pick in my brain.

I get headaches more, and the left side of my face is tender to the touch. I feel bruised and swollen, but I'm not.

And that's almost the worst part of this. Nobody can tell anything is wrong with me until I open my mouth or close my eye. I don't have the characteristic droop.

I get the message that I shouldn't be upset about this because it is more than likely temporary and I will more than likely recover fully, but I am so tired of hearing that. I am so tired of not being allowed to have bad days. I am so tired of being told what I should and shouldn't feel.

Everybody responds to things differently, and I feel like people forget that I'm human and expect me to have superhuman responses to things.

It's not cancer. It's nothing life-threatening. But it is life-altering, and I wish people would understand that. So forgive me if, for a while, you ask me how I'm doing and I respond with, "Pretty shitty." It's about as good as I can muster right now.

Gregory Goose and the Long Migration

This is a children's story I originally wrote on in March 2012, when my kids were 8 and 10. I've never shared it with anybody before...I heard a goose flying overhead today, so it seemed fitting to share it here, almost exactly 7 years after I started writing it.

                The days were getting shorter, and the air was growing cooler. The water in the pond was starting to get chilly. Fall was here, and little Gregory Goose was excited. It was time for his first migration!

                All of the adult geese were busily packing up, loading trunks and suitcases with everything they would need for the long winter. Gregory wandered among the flurry of activity, waiting excitedly and impatiently.

                “Is it time yet?” he asked eagerly in his mother’s ear.

                Mother Goose frowned. “No, Gregory. Go play with the other goslings. We’re busy.”

                Gregory kicked the ground sadly and waddled away. He turned to go find the other goslings when he spied his father. He ran as fast as he could to his father’s side, flapping his wings wildly. “Is it time yet?” he screamed.

                Father Goose signed and shook his head. “No, Gregory. Go play with the other goslings. We’re busy.”

                Gregory stomped towards the other goslings, muttering to himself. “Waiting is so BORING! When will it be time to GO?”

                The other goslings all stared at Gregory as he talked to himself. Finally, Georgie stepped forward. “What’s wrong, Gregory?”

                Gregory stomped his feet again. “Mother Goose says ‘Go play’. Father Goose says ‘Go play’. I don’t WANT to play! I want to FLY!” Gregory spun in a circle with his wings spread as wide as they could go. “I’ve been practicing all summer, and now it’s time to go, and we’re not going!”

                Georgie looked alarmed. “We’re not going?”

                Gregory shook his head. “I’m waiting and waiting and we’re still here! I don’t think we’ll EVER leave!”

                Georgie honked wildly and ran away from the group of goslings towards a cluster of geese near the pond.

                Gina stepped forward shyly. “Gregory?” she asked quietly?

                “Yeah?” Gregory said.

                “My momma said we’ll go when all the geese are done their jobs. If someone doesn’t do their job right, we will have problems.”

                Gregory sighed. “I know. I just want to fly so badly!”

                Gina smiled. “Come play a game with us.”

                The goslings all played together for a long while, taking turns playing hopscotch and trying to knock each others pebbles out of a circle.

                After a long while, Grandpa Goose honked long and loud, waiting for everyone to look at him.

                “Everybody get into formation! We’ve practiced this many times before. You all know what to do, so let’s go!”

                The geese, their backs loaded with trunks and suitcases, and the goslings all gathered into two lines, with Grandpa at the front in the middle. He started flapping his wings and one by one all of the geese and goslings followed his lead. Soon, they were in the air, and Gregory was thrilled.

                Gina flew just behind Gregory. “See?” she called up to him. “I told you we’d go if you just had patience!”

                Suddenly a squawk went up from a goose on the left leg of the V. “Oh no!” she wailed, “I forgot the towels!”

                A flutter of activity flew through the flock, and Grandpa suddenly veered sharply left and turned around. The flock followed closely behind.

                They landed back at the pond and milled around while Gertie Goose, the towel-packer, set about stuffing piles of towels into the trunk she had heaved off of her back. Gregory watched her earnestly, waiting impatiently for her to be done.

                Finally, she was done, and the flock got back in formation. They flapped and flapped and took to the air.

                The geese flew and flew, over small villages and big cities, over forests and lakes, never stopping until many hours later when they stopped at a quiet pond. All the geese and goslings took a quick swim in the refreshing water to cool down after the long flight. They gathered together and had a bite to eat, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, they settled in for the night in the clearing around the pond. Gregory tucked himself in next to Mother Goose, yawning.

                “Good night, Gregory,” Mother Goose said softly.

                Gregory closed his eyes and mumbled, “Good night, Mother Goose.” With that, he was asleep.

                When the sun rose over the new pond, the geese again got into formation quickly and took to the skies. They hadn’t been flying for long when Gregory noticed that the wrong gosling was in front of him.

                “Gina?”

                Gina, flapping furiously to keep up with the other geese, turned her head slightly. “What is it, Gregory?” she asked, clearly annoyed at the distraction.

                “Where’s Georgie?”

                “What do you mean, where’s Georgie? He’s right…” Gina, startled, missed a flap of her wings, almost causing Gregory to slam into her. “Oh no!” she howled.

                Older geese around them turned to see what the commotion was all about.

                “What is it?”

                “What’s going on?”

                “Who said that?”

                “What’s the problem?”

                Gina was sobbing. “Georgie’s not with us! He must still be at the last pond!”

                The message passed up the line from goose to gander and finally to Grandpa Goose, who once again veered sharply left and turned around, the flock following closely behind.

                Soon, the pond was in sight. Gregory could see a gosling running frantically back and forth, flapping his wings desperately. Grandpa Goose’s booming voice rang out, “Georgie!” The gosling suddenly stopped and looked up. He started jumping in excitement when he recognized his flock.

                They landed, retaining their formation. Georgie quickly got into place in front of Gregory, and they were off again, flapping furiously to rise high in the sky in their V formation.

                Hours and hours later, they arrived at another pond. The water here was slightly warmer, but still cooled them down nicely after a long flight. The sun set again and all the geese and goslings drifted off to sleep.

                In the morning, a flurry of activity rushed around the pond as everybody readied themselves for the final leg of their trip. When they were in formation, everybody double-checked to make sure they were between the right people. They flapped and flapped and up they flew, ready for the long day ahead of them.

                They’d been flying for a few hours when Greta Goose dropped out of formation. Curious looks were exchanged. Greta turned slowly around and called over her shoulder, “I left the blankets back at the last pond!”

                Grandpa Goose sighed loudly and turned around to follow Greta, the flock following them both. After a few hours, they made it back to the pond. Greta quickly gathered up the blankets and loaded them into her trunk. When she was done, she took her place back in the formation, blushing deeply. They took to the air again, but only after making absolutely sure that everyone and everything was accounted for. Grandpa Goose, getting grumpy at all of the delays, took off quickly, barely allowing the rest of the flock to catch up to him.

                Because of the delay, the flock flew into the night, pushing on despite being tired to reach their winter home. Finally, deep into the night, they arrived at a lush warm pond with lovely grassy areas around it. As they settled in to sleep, Gregory looked around. “It was a good trip, Mother Goose,” he said.

                Mother Goose nodded. “Yes it was, Gregory. Now, you go to sleep. We have a long day of unpacking in the morning. You’ll be expected to help.”

                “Okay, Mother Goose.” Gregory yawned widely and nuzzled his beak into Mother Goose’s side. He was content to finally be at their winter home, and floated away into sleepy dreams.

The colours have all gone

Its hard for anybody who hasn't dealt with it to understand, and it's hard to understand what anybody else deals with even if you have dealt with it.

It being mental illness.

3 days ago, I was manic. I had been manic for 3.5 weeks.

I've been depressed since Friday.

I'm not used to this.

I'm not used to being in one mood for more than a day, for more than a few hours. I am usually rapid cycling, up to 12 times in a day.

This depression hit hard and fast. I cried all day Friday and most of Saturday, and now I've hit a state of almost total anhedonia (an inability to experience pleasure). I'm not enjoying anything anymore. I have music on, but only to get me out of my head. It's starting to annoy me more than anything right now.

At least I'm not crying.

Our first Valentine's Day

I adore you.

Cuz you don't care where I came from.

Just kiss me, in the dark while my lips are numb.

And I love, every inch of you and then some, and then some, and then some.

(Arkells - And Then Some)

I got to spend a good chunk of today with Dawson on our first Valentine's Day as a couple. It soothes my soul just to be beside him. Nobody has ever made me feel as at ease as he does. Unfortunately, he had to work, and I had an appointment, so our visit was cut shorter than either of us would have liked.

Neither of us had money for physical gifts this year. So, this post is my gift to him... I feel like it's nowhere near enough, though... you see, Dawson has a batshit crazy girlfriend. And this superstar of a man hasn't blinked even once in the past 9.5 months at anything I have thrown at him. He has such a generous heart that even when he is struggling, he will ask me how I am doing, and worries about me. I sometimes really feel like I don't deserve him. I fuckin' love him so much I wanna shout it to the world!!!

And Dawson, Happy Valentine's Day. I love you.

Monday Minisaga: Part The Second

The agony was relentless. Everything was. Yet Melissa did not cry out. She would keep this secret in silence.

Her sister could never find out what they had done. This was her atonement. This would ensure that Ashley never found out what she and Caleb did.