Eleanor the Insufferable

I have indeed finally chosen my legendary heroine name, in recognition of the fact that I can barely shut up about my “condition” these days for five minutes at a time, and people are getting heartily sick of it. My actual coming out made no splash whatsoever, but my refusal to change the bloody record is really starting to test my loved ones’ patience…

Ah well, time to force some relaxation into the situation, and just learn to enjoy being an openly acknowledged trans lady for the first time in my life. My collection of wearable clothes and make-up is growing, my facial hair is slowly but surely thinning, and the phytoestrogens are having no discernable effect whatsoever, though to be fair they are only supposed to kick in after about a month’s regular use at least (allegedly). Oh, and please never buy Pueraria Mirifica cream from a company called “Biowoman”, because it comes in a tiny tiny bottle, and then the bottle turns out to be only half full anyway. Hashtag rip-off, or words to that effect.

I suppose the impending visit to the psychiatrist is doing little enough to steady my nerves. Like all British folks of a certain generation, my enduring image of psychiatrists is a certain episode of “Fawlty Towers” with Basil freaking out right left and centre because a psychiatrist is staying in the hotel, and his attempts to appear uber-sane (for fear of being carted away in a strait-jacket) backfire miserably. Though since Basil Fawlty nearly always was depicted as seriously disturbed, and the psychiatrist barely takes an interest, his crime is more professional negligence than being some overly-zealous Nurse Ratched type.

Ah yes, I knew there was another media-related reason I am nervous of the mental health system. Would now be a good time for me to practice lifting and throwing water coolers? Nah. Don’t want to bulk up my already too-masculine arms any more. Especially when just learning to stop being a one-track-minded obsessive might be a better way to make a positive impression…

Send positive wishes my way, sisters and allies.


2 thoughts on “Eleanor the Insufferable

    • I remember being quite proud of the animated effects at the time, though I can’t remember why when I look at it now, and wonder how I could have missed something so obvious as the laser that hits the mirror having no damn reflection… Ah well, filmmaking proved not to be my best creative outlet in any case, though it and the writing both helped me define and come to terms with myself.

      Liked by 1 person

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