After being raped in that summer of drugs and poverty and my friendship with the older ‘queen’, I returned home to my parents and stopped drugs and returned to church and shut off that whole experience of betrayal and abuse. I didn’t smoke dope again for a couple of years. I didn’t even link the events to marijuania and alcohol. I just focussed on success once again.
I wanted to be a play wright. I had trained in the theatre and was acting main stage and dancing on television. I had the sexiest girlfriends, glamorous, athletic, voluptuous, carefree fun women who were all my desire. I was lustful and manly. I fucked women standing against walls. I’d lift them by their thighs and penetrate them tearing panties and knowing all manner of laughter and joy. Sex was incredible. It was the reward of life. I had orgasms and the girls had orgasms. I learned to lick my face off and enjoyed the taste and scent of women. I’ve watched bucks following doe in the woods licking them before they mount them in rut. I was like that.
After my first divorce I became more religious and celibate and finally met another beautiful girl who was so sexual in our courtship but then we bought the house, I’d been working three jobs and she was so into her sick family and what the neighbours think and began to treat sex as ‘dirty’ and ‘beneath her’.
Again drugs and alcohol entered . There were no kids too. She didn’t want kids and I’d thought that was what marriage was about. She also never seemed to leave her mother who was ever in our lives and a thoroughly crazy lady with high drama and a need to be the centre of attention. I would do everything to please and pleasure her but she increasingly disparaged all things masculine and prided herself on being a feminist mocking my achievement and always critical. Her family were alcoholics and we drank wine and the marijuana had returned on vacation but a source appeared closer. Our friends smoked dope and drank wine and drugs and alcohol have strange effects. She painted the house pink and wanted me to move to the basement though we shared a bed. It was all in the last year. I pointed out that I spent years between her legs and she had never done oral sex with me once. She said with all the authority of the Queen, “women don’t like oral sex. Ladies don’t do it”.
The trouble with that ‘we are not amused’ and her mother and sister and friends was that they were at variance with the zoological data, the sexual history, and I was teaching sexuality and discussing these matters with beautiful brilliant upper class colleagues and a range of patients having difficulty with an orgasm and marriage. I was the scientist and she treated men and me and sex as repugnant, all of a sudden, in the 8th year of our relationship as if she was having an affair or whatever. I begged her to spend alone time with us but she insisted on arranging for her family or friends to be present. I begged her to come t o that final conference with me but she’d rather spend the time with her mother.
Deep throat was playing at the movie theatre. She thought it was dirty.
I was in the hot tub with gorgeous young New York psychologist after a day of courses in Arizona.
“I love deep throat,” she said.
“My wife tells me women don’t like oral sex’
“You know that’s not true. I love to please a man. I love the feel of his orgasm. I love the smell . I love the taste of his cum. Don’t you love women that way too”
“Yes, I do, The secant of a woman and the taste of her is as exquisite as intercourse. I like the foreplay and the act alone. My first wife was utterly womanly and our sex life was mutual in every way. My wife demands cunninglingus but doesn’t reciprocate and increasingly she’s become a dead fish in bed.”
“I don’t understand that. My boyfriend and I love sex like we like a good meal. It’s so healthy and pleasurable. “
She had leaned closer and our bodies were touching and then our lips and in the hotel hot tub. I experienced ‘deep throat ‘ for the first time and thoroughly enjoyed it. I’d had oral sex as a precursor to intercourse in previous relationships. I’d 69’d but this was different. Explosive. And there were all the taboos being broken and the red wine. Red wine made me horny and rafter a couple of glasses all womens’ breasts seemed to grow and they all glowed. I hard on wine.
We missed the last two days of the conference spending them together in bed. I will never forget that deep throat though it became ‘normal’ in the following years,. I also won’t forget her sense of fun and pleasure. She thanked me and we couldn’t stay in touch as friends simply because I returned and told my wife I’d not used a condom, that I needed to be checked for STD’s. She was used to me wanting sex when I returned from being alone and thought this unusual. I was honest. I felt guilty for not using a condom more than the adultery though I did feel bad for breaking my vows though by that time I’d made so many sacrifices and accommodations to her and her family that I really was seriously wondering if separation wasn’t indicated as there was no children and she was depressed and her mother was depressed and her father and brother were always drunk. I had experienced ‘deep throat’ and she was absolutely wrong about ‘women’ and I was really tired of her superiority and arrogance and was arrogant myself but admitted fault and prepared to accept she was the ‘victim’ and I was the ‘victimizer’ and just a higher level of her favourite game. It was the height of Marxist feminism and we’d had seven years of CBC condemning men collectively and now I was confirmed the ‘bad man’. She had never celebrated any of my successes but boy was she all for rolling in my defeat and putting the boots in.
I spoke to my prof who wad at the time going through a divorce. We were attending a workshop with Virginia Satire the famous marriage therapist, Later he’d invite me to his home alone with his family and we’d get drunk and smoke dope and I’d be fucked. I felt like a fly in a spider web. The whole experience was pleasurable. I d shared my whole sexual history and marriage problems with him as he said he needed to know all this as my supervisor. Now I was penetrated anally with lube on drugs, literally semi comatose and frankly immobile, like I’d had a nerve toxin. I couldn’t move and didn’t complain except to weakly say. No , I don’t think this is right or some such verbal utterance while my body opened to him and accepted being bred.
She ‘d left to be with her mother and he would come in an take me and meet with me and advise me. I was a zombie at the time studying for my final exams. I tried to break it off but I was smoking dope his cousin had as often as I could and drinking.
She was innocent and wronged and angry. I never knew when he appeared. It was definitely consensual though I felt like an employee boss’s relationships. I really liked the sex and the friendship. I begged him to stop the sex and that we could just be friends but he’d simply love fucking me. Frankly I liked being fucked. I was alone at the time, no friends and this homosexuality and the separation distanced me from all my normal connections. There was no one I could talk to except my stoned friend who had I’d let move into the basement as he had no where to go. I was supporting him and serving as a fuck toy and had lost all my confidence and esteem. He liked me wearing his ex wife’s lingerie and frankly I felt better in the ‘constume’ and ‘role’. I felt thoroughly divided I just wanted to finish my degree and leave.
I did just that. I went to a relationship with a friend and had access to wine and marijuana as I did my American medical exams and was offered a position at Stanford and another at Berkeley. I lost everything in the divorce , never one to focus on money watching her suddenly take everything she could. There was even a painting from an esteemed friend given to me as a gift of friendship . Of course for me it had great sentimental value and reflected a decades of friendship but to her it was money and prestige so it was ‘hers’. Anything of financial value she took. I didn’t care at the time. I was paying and people pleasing in this new relationship with a more sophisticated lady and lover and enjoying California. When I needed money I took a job in the north.
I had crossed dressed a couple of times walking in the woods and masturbating imagining my self a girl masturbating. I liked wearing a skirt. That was all. But I remembered the prof and wondered about myself when I was under a great deal of stress. The issue of having to make a decision about finances had triggered those episodes and the day of my exams in LA . But 99% of the time I was happy in my masculine role with an amazingly beautiful woman who also had a strange relationship with her dominating mother. She was another ‘princess’ too. But not a feminist and clearly loving being a woman. I didn’t grow up with sisters and never learned how to argue with them or how vengeful they could be and took becoming a psychiatrist to understand passive aggression, psychopathy and proxy violence the norms of female dispute.
I was alone again in the north.
We argued because she didn’t like that I left and we argued and I didnt stay to play out the drama. At the end of my northern stint with money in my pocket I came back to get my stuff and drive north again. I had been offered a job in Virginia and was headed there but wanted to see the holograph exhibits in Vancouver. I saw the holograph as the closest representation of god on either and was fascinated with them. I was still studying theology and spirituality and consider the ‘herb’ as ‘sacred’. I had done LSD to know God. I was meditating and seeking experiences loving when I was in ‘the flow’. I had that sense of synchronicity often.
Looking back and knowing that 6 weeks to 3 months is the withdrawal period for marijuana I wonder how often I was in PAWS, as smoking marijuania I was stable and in a steady state but when I went north to work I stopped marijuana and now again I stopped it and was restless irritable and discontent. It was n’t long before I had a new source and would have my routine of binge drinking and binge smoking with a few days of dope and weeks or months of only occasional drinks. The work hard play hard scenario. I had volunteered to help with the HIV service and was living in terror.
Meanwhile I had dating the most sexually advanced women in the world. Their skills and enthusiasm and joyful news were an eye opener. I spent months with a nurse who later told me she’d worked as an escort which didn’t surprise me given the amazing nights of sex with red wine. She had coke too and we tried that but not my thing. I learned later she had an addiction and was taking money from me to cover her costs. It explained her erratic behaviour. I didn’t like uppers except coffee and cigarettes while I did like wine and cannabis. It was great being a man and sex was fantastic those years but I wanted marriage and family and a relationship with someone I could share spiritually
I worked. In the country I dated and had more incredible girlfriends with extraordinary sex. We were all young and athletic. Being athletic, jogging, swimming, hiking, cycling, skiing were all the basis of great sex.
I didn’t have Erectile Dysfunction till my 40’s.
My last marriage was great sexually. She was brilliant and beautiful and just the best of fun in the beginning. We both liked that each of us were drunks and stoners. Our differences exploded over time and her mother was as insane , but now certifiable as my second wife’s mother, but as well the family was alcoholic and addicted but wealthy. I actually thought that we’d move to the country among my friends who all had children and that my second wife’s problem was that her friends didn’t have children but were feminists and business women who priorized wealth. I thought with this wife I’d be in the midst of families and children and have a family. I even played the guitar and sang “Our House.’ But trouble began when she failed her exams and continued to do more drugs and then began to spend her tine with her mother and I was months alone in the country as she studied to repeat her exams and I worked to support us . I ‘d do this and people would think while he’s married a doctor so he should be happy but the doctors I married chose the poorest paid jobs and didn’t work much at all or were students while I worked three jobs and brought home 2/3 rd of the income and was fiscally responsible. She’d had a daddy who bailed her out and a cocaine problem which again didn’t become apparent till later. The fact is girls on cocaine are sex addicts. When I tried it I got ED so it was a stupid drug for me. But the girls only had to lie back and be pleasured and on cocaine they were animals in the best of possible ways.
But alone girls in the neighbourhood would come to have sex and I said no. Beautiful young girls who I regret not having sex with. But I’d committed adultery and was not going down that path again.
It was in the country smoking dope and drinking wine alone in this big empty house with a dog and cat with her in the city with her mom that I began wearing skirts again and silky and satiny clothes. I loved the feel of women’s fabrics . As a young man like Hefner I’d lived at times with my robe , a writer, and now in the country I was the writer who wore comfortable closthing and wrote. I liked the sensuousness of being female but my masturbatory fantasies were of being a man with females.
In the next years sailing I’d be a pirate and ships captain and at most wear a sarong and not have any questioning of my sexuality but struggling with what was the future of a childless marriage and a wife who was always depressed without drugs. I was excited by sailing and exploring but she was forever getting in fight with other girls and had no friends. My friends were the ones she used and in the end she only wanted to know my friends who did drugs and scorned my colleagues and gossiped negatively belligerently about my good friends, the ones who I knew who rarely drank and rarely smoked dope.
I d say I never wanted to see the dealers around and complain that while we were away she’d knowing let her house be used as a grow operation. I was working in addition at the time and she thought a bag of dope from the dealers for free was suffient reward. She got her coke. I bought her all manner of lingerie and we began using toys. She got into coke again and her girlfriends had told me that was her thing younger and a major problems. She had inherited millions but we were living on my savings and I’d got work again in the north but as she had millions I said she could manage all the money anf she set up accounts for her self and took my money I made and was doing coke and I was smoking dope and drinking red wine and masturbating. Sometimes I was cross dressing. I’d gone to a second hand store and had a cheer leader skirt and wore that and was writing.
I’d a job lined up in Tenessee but she wouldn’t go and she wouldn’t get out of bed. I prepared to set up a practice , I’d set up several successful practices on my own but when we built a clinic in the country she’d simply not worked .She did dope and stayed in bed and refused to work,. She got a job with government and didn’t work for years yet with goof nurses and supervision in the north she’d functioned. I tried again. We invested my northern money in a clinic. I took out a $50,000 dollar loan because she said her millions were in investments and her corrupt lawyer backed her and she didn’t work. She did coke and got her hair done and didn’t show up for a waiting room of patients and referrals which dried up in a week. I organized a party for her to ‘open her practice’ and she bought gallons of wine and catered for a hundred or more but she didn’t send out invitations to the gps. She didn’t work. A few of my colleagues arrived wondering at this elaborate set up with all the wine and food and no guests and her dealers and her drunken drug addicted friend who supplied her coke and became quickly loud and embarrassing.
It was a nightmare.
I was suddenly seeing 10 people a day coming home to her stoned and depressed and watching her do more medically dangerous and shit show things as she was only happy and content on coke, I am so thankful it was never my addiction or desire but I drank wine and smoked dope and smoking dope I didn’t think but played guitar and masturbated off fucked and thought it would all turn out,
I couldn’t go on. I took to staying in motels with my dog because she was up all night on coke. I wasn’t thinking sexually . In survival mode I was all male and asexual. I thought she was trying to kill me as her mother had tried to kill her father. She was more insane than my patietns and it was a nightmare of nightmares.
There was an unnecessary early death and I couldn’t say more. I’d been through that already previously putting work before family and now protected family. I was seeing a psychiatrist who didn’t think I was drinking too much or smoking too much dope but was as concerned as I was about her cocaine use. We arranged to send her to family to get her away from the dealers ….she’d had black dealers when I met her and I rather liked that because it was another source of marijuania but cocaine was a different matter. People with dying and losing everything,. She’d had a coke addict carpenter working on our boat a university friend who stole from the other boat owners in the marina who approached me and I fired him and asked her ‘what she was thinking’. He was her source. She always lied. Lying was normal with her. But she was amazing too. I loved her as I loved my wive’s but I also drank and smoked dope and was a people pleaser and intellectual and a bit crazy. I was working with the craziest too so had a wife range of tolerance and experience. It was a long way from the 50’s and none of the marriages I knew were ‘normal’ and I drank less than the doctors in my group and marijuana was everywhere in the upper echelons of my cohort. We smoked dope with doctors and lawyers and engineers. We drank with the police and military. It was friends in high plaees.
I cross dressed a week or two in that insaniety. The psychiatrist I saw said that he though I was using cross dressing as an anxiety reduction too. It was an escape like alcohol and marijuana.
I couldn’t continue. She’d refused to get help and I was sure she was going to kill someone. I was covering for her practice anfd she refused to go to treatment but stayed with her uncle never telling him about her addictions or violence but blaming everything on me.
I left. I walked out. She’d changed the code on the alarm and I’d arrived home from a day of work with her totally out of it. I had her dealers casing the place and the house had been broken into several times in the previous years and now I was increasingly anxious and it didn’t make any sense. I wasn’t able to to sleep with her ranting all night pacing and not showing up for work.
I just walked out,. I couldn’t find a hotel that took my dog and went to live with my biker friends who had a grow operation. I’d read the writing. Men are bad. Women are good. The rich are right and the poor are wrong. She was angry that I initiated divorce proceedings. I was smoking dope and drinking with these childhood friends who lived on the edge and were happy to have my money pay for their coke. It seemed that in a year everyone who’d been ‘good ole boys’ smoking dope had got into coke and I coulfn’t see it’s merit. I was older and staying up past midnight wasn’t attactive nor were the single young women in their 20’s who lived to party with dope.
I was working on a boat I’d bought with a view to living in the harbour but the guys kept saying I could restore it and I’d do a few hours a day but that was all. It wass a piece of junk and I figure that the $10,000 I gave them , they weren’t my friends, they’d become addicts and feral while I wass away. One who went onto the hells angels took me aside and said that they did this. They took a person in an stole all their stuff and that I should get out while I could because he’d seen this done a few times and that he didn’t think it should be done for me.
A freind phoned and asked if I needed help. Another Christian. Said he had been given the message to call. I said yes. Bring a truck and pick me up. He came with a station wagon and we loaded my valuables after I’d lost $30,000 and then with RRSP’s spent another $30,000 on lawyers who vouldn’t do anything because they said she was incredibly wealthy and was using the tactic of the wealthy ‘stalling’.
I had one night with the bikers where I went out in the woods and work the witches outfit I’d worn out rocky horror pictures show in the moon light alone praying to get out of this mess.. My friend phoned shortly after that.
I ‘d decided that I couldn’t drink or smoke dope. I’d decided too I wanted to rebuild my life from when I’d left church. I’d been with a Christian psychiatrist in Psychiatry and studied Bible at University in addition to medical school. I thought drinking and smoking dope were a dead end and I’d never do them again. I’d tried quitting smoking cigarettes, in the last weeks, 2 packs a day, smoking green garbage bag old the grow op shake and rolling drum tobacco .. I was a mess. I have a picture of the time . I looked like a pirate. I’d lost a front tooth and vanity hit me. I was fucked. I returned to the church and cried in the pews remembering the innosvens of the days when I was president of amalgamated baptist youth groups. I grieved the loss of the idealism I’d had as a poetry and the dreams I’d had as a dancer and entertainer and the dremasI had of serving as a medical doctor and all the service in the north. I accepted charity from the church when the welfare woman began screaming at me that welfare wasn’t for doctors. My ex had movement all the money into her accounts and I’d cashed my RRSP’s and my friend wasn’t charging me rent but taking IOU’s. I was getting food from the church and accepted I had to have income. Now welfare verbally abused me and kicked me out humiliating me before a room full of clients. I was in a constant state of mhumiliation and withdrawing from cannabis and alcohol.
It was spending long hours walking my dog in the woods. With no furniture in a trailer my friend ‘rented’ me on IOU’s , I’d pay him back in a couple of months I made chairs and table and he borrowed an old futon from a friend. I was praying and meditating and writing .
I had no sexual thoughts or feelings then. When I had a sexual urge for a woman I’d contain it and was celebrate another year of my life. I’d been celibate for a year or two as a yogi and now I was intent on being celibate for a year. I was praying and meditation and living very simply.
That’s when Graham learned I’d a private insurance policy I’d paid into for years and now I was getting thousand dollars a month disability and rich. I could pay rent and begin to pay back my debt. I sold some stuff and a thousand dollars to buy a car . She continued to wrack up debts and play poor living ion a ten million dollar house in shaunghnassey with the multimillion dollar inheritance she’d received and she took my boat. When I learned of that I went from the completely passive failure to that’s not right. I had a Christian lawyer who was a saint because she didn’t feel what was done to me wads right. The Christian doctors totally supported me and didn’t accept the abuser.
I saw a lawyer who said I wads entitled to 5 million from the house as half that assess and he had a forensic accountant who would get me half of the millions she had in investments and bonds. I said I only wanted my boat, It was only worth $60,000 but it had been my home and I’d worked on it for a decade and done my ships capatain’s papers and sailed it to Alaska and Mexico and wanted to sail again offshore. The Christian Lawyer, my truthful saint, thought I was generous and that she wass unreasonable. But i got the boat after I put I took it off land with the help of AA friends, Christian’s and doctors and aboriginals. I had joined AA when Bernie came to the trailer one night to take me too my first meeting.
Looking back at that hell of a year, I’m surprised how a year later clean and sober and back at work with a whole friendship of AA and Christian community how it was ever possible. I was living on my boat but my dog had died. The dog we’d bought together for his companion she’d sold. Last I heard she was living alone in that huge house, the mausoleum to her mother and working still. We’ve all grown so old
I had girlfriends in AA who were now sober and intimacy was incredible. I made friends and lovers and sailed solo across the Pacific through hurricanes in winter and had a glorious talented girlfriend but my parents became sick and the work became suffocating and I escaped home anxious again. I was starting another practice. It was overwhelming stress and my mother was growing worse on my visits and I began dressing as a girl and dating a man . I had some experiences in the park late at night thinking that I couldn’t face any more chaos. I was living in an apartment and considering the options of homosexuality and transgender enjoying cross dressing and joining a cross dressing society. I was off Davie street. But I also had a friend and we continued to camp and date and I sailed and at sea would wear women’s clothes but stopped associating with the Davie street crowd though I’d made a close friend in Gay AA. We weren’t intimate but I dropped a lot of predjudiceds and learned a lot of the falsehoods I”d been fed these years.
I’d been exorcised and spent a year or two in a ex gay movement and ‘purged’ my clothing and setting into years of fairly monogamous relationship which worked because we didn’t live together and she was who she was. Untreated al anon and isolative and dependent a bit, thoroughly involved with her family but while her children had problems the adults of her family where sane. I thought that was an improvement . She associated with negative people as had my ex but had enough positive relationships and when I went to AA or Church she was happy to come along. On her own she was Christian but isolative. I was taking theology and going to AA and church and working and we were fine, good friends. She was loving and amazing. Sexually she’d been one of a kind for the love and friendship.
I’d begun to fantasize men when I masturbated. I didn’t know when I’d have ED and found that sex was work. I had to think about it even with viagra and that gave me terrible heart burn. I dreamed of lying back and being pleasured. I thought of all the women I’d ‘pleasured ‘ and all the ‘work’ I’d done and was resentful that there was no reciprocity. With the athletes of my youth we were on top and bottom and bucking and bronching but now it was more just ‘work’. My back hurt.
I wanted to be seduced. I wanted to not be the person seeking sex and I had no tolerance for any delay or rejection. I was thoroughly off the long history of women judging and picking and choosing and man as supplicant.
I’d gone through 2 years of a false accusation and lost $50,000 to a drug addicted psychopath who used a powerful insane beurocrat as her proxy weapon. The hateful pervert said ‘women don’t lie about sex’ and I watched the years of feminist abuse with women not standing up to these people while daily men were destroyed.
Then we had a chauvinist pig take power and claim to be a feminist and the women celebrated this evil idiot. I was increasingly fed up.
If you can’t beat em join them.
I was afraid to be around women. Man was the nigger of Canada to paraphrase Lennon who like so many of my youthful idols lost their shine as I grew older.
I felt safe in the midst of gay and lesbians. I like my AA and church friends,
At home I let comfortable in shifts. I took to wearing bras and panties when I could, I travelled ‘au femme’ and didn’t ‘pass’ but I was comfortable as ‘non binary’. I felt the church wass family and that there wasn’t a real place for the single who didn’t want to marry’.
My partner became older and was over worked and tired. I was over worked and tired.
My dog and my life were threatened and the College and the Police didn’t nothing. I felt I couldn’t even protect mysel and that as a white man I was by the algorithm of the Marxist Canadian society , the aggressor. Women and everyone else were the aggressed. Marxism began with the rich as bad and poor as good and Frankfurt school of Marxism
arbitrarily extended it’s dualism to any pair, with men , they were the aggressor and women the victim. Victims and Victimizers.
I could leave Canada and go to a country when the Y gene is not a disease or I could give up the fight, I was so tired of defending against all the bullies of these last years. Or I could lie back and surrender. Rape is inevitable in Canada. I felt less anxious dressed in a jean skirt and top. I felt more comfortable,
Covid and lockdowns came and I worked from home and gathered a wardrobe from Reitman’s an Walmart and began to feel less anxious and less pressured. In work we were expeeted to perfect but it was all without resources like being asked to do brain surgery under a 25 watt light bulb.
I was in love with the Book ‘Black like me’ younger and everything I learned cross dressed confirmed that women and men weren’t generalizable, All the politival nonsense was unscientific and power politics. I was now too old to be anything but marginalized and an outsider.
As an old man I could be a celibate, I’d be a monk and study and write and that’s still available to me
I thought of retiring but I could use more money to pay off my home directly rather than from savings. I have had severe debilitating pain for years now and am abstinent from drugs and alcohol. I have this year been doing self care and becoming more function. Plane crashes and various other vehicle crashes took their toll but I do think that back pain is psychosomatic back stabbing pain. I pray and forgive and meditation and 12 step and yet keep having intrussive thoughts about the psychopathic betrayals rapes and bullying I’ve experienced all the while I was helping people who experienced this too.
I could die now. I’ve had a good life. Despite the flashbacks and intrussive thoughts and nightmares I’ve achieved my goals, had the best family and friends, greatest lovers, magnificent spiritual experiences, and really am grateful. I have to resist the catastrophising and poor me. I’m learning to live in the present and know God more deeply,
We are all women before God who is the first mover.
A man without a woman is not a man.
I enjoy being a man with my friend. I am tired of being the provider protector and constantly hearing women blaming men. I’m tired of doing all the ‘self work’ and being among people who don’t do any self work but spiritually and mentally masturbate. I feel like I’m showering spiritually and I’m often among the unwashed .They all love that I’m nice and smell nice but they’re so arrogant and self satisfied doing the least and being so self centred.
Then I’m in a program that says I have to clean my side of the street so I do and feel alone.
I’m afraid to get a sex change because I feel I’d lose my friends but I’m not really sure I want a sex vhange except living in Canada or maybe its BC. If I moved to Texas, Calgary or Paris I’d feel fine being a man, I liked the Parisian women celebtating old men. I have many successful male friends who have left Canada and live in South America, africa or Asia where women don’t loath being women, don’t hate men, and celebrate older men.
I’m an outsider as a cross dresser and transgender. I suspect i could make a new network of friends in the community though there are too many who have addictions in that world for my Joy. Indeed I wonder if my own transgender is a sex addiction.
I could take testosterone or estrogen but I feel castrated in canada and finally after years of abuse by the authorities I think ‘identification with the aggressor’ is the way to go. I think women in Canada would applaud en mass death of men until the next day they realized that men were good slaves and servants.
The courts have stolen the children of men.
The men in my practice physically raped by men and physically assaulted by women have been so sad, I was beaten in my sleep by a coke addicted woman who broke into my apartment after i tried to break up with her. “No one leaves me she was screaming”. I asked my patients with gashes all over their heads why they stayed with their physically abusive wife’s. “When I ‘m not their they abuse the children’. I have seen men whose children have been killed by addicted mothers.
Admittedly I’m anxious. I’ve been anxious a lot and I pray all day and go to meetings and share and cry. I don’t know what to do next but I’ve done my duty as a man and served my time and now would like a vacation as a woman. Women have been crossdressing since Chanel’s pants and Hillarie’s Pant Suits. The whole femininity of the 30’s and 50’s and the best girl friend of the 60 have today ended with Kardasian and women angry at men while the elite men and women get away with murder and no one cares.
I found 80% of my colleagues are burnt out except the elite and those in Quebec who have been coasting for decades.
Now I’m okay. I’ll die soon, I have less back pain and really 90% of the time I’m blessed. I’m so grateful. I am confused but I pray and know god is good all of the time. This too shall pass and I’ll know a door opens as another closes,
Today I have love and friends and I have a wonderful dog who keeps me going for walks and eating meals. We’re okay. I just know that if I had a choice to be an alien I’d probably put on a blue body and get on a space ship. But I wouldn’t want to leave all I love here either. Ambivalence is a bitch.
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