I've lost all my power. I feel so small and weak. Last night's sobbing episode had Papi holding me like I was a child. I felt like one, that's for sure. I was cocooned in my love's blanket from childhood, while Papi held me on a one person recliner. My love lying sideways, my legs draped over Papi's strong body. We held each other so close that it seemed like two people were meshed into one. We were so convincingly integrated it was as if we were saying to the inspirited seat, "Whaddya mean? This is only one person. Don't know what you're talking about," with a clueless stare.
About 2 weeks ago, my love had taken too much testosterone and was very sick because of it. I was so frightened that I couldn't even type those black and white words for my imaginary friend here. I could only write about the swollen eyes that I woke up to. That post was all about the eyes. The victims of my pain. This morning I woke up again with battered eyes, only this time, they looked so bad that I almost cried about my eyes looking so tragic from crying.
Good lord! All this sobbing is just too ridiculous!!! When do I get to snap out of it?!?!?
Yesterday, I took chance number four of trusting another live ear to speak about 'it'. Again it was not as bad as I thought it would turn out to be. I wasn't judged, I was only supported.
I have chosen good people in my life. I have done well. As much as I feel so damn alone in this world, because there's nobody I know that's gone through this, I feel that the friends I've chosen to gush out to would honestly do anything to be able to be that person who has been there. I sense they would do anything to understand what I'm going through. They can't know, but they have compassion. I do recognize their love for me. I have chosen great love in my life.
My friend told me that it will get better every time I talk about it. Logically, I know this is true, but when you're living in this reality of hell, it's so damn hard to really believe it, especially when you wake up to these eyes.
Papi's decision of male transformation is not only changing the body of my beautiful wife, but it's also changing my life, my love's life and our marriage. When Papi was speaking on the phone to a friend last night, the horrid mistake 2 weeks ago that was made with taking too much 't' came out in their conversation like it was just a little error. The words in that conversation came out 'funny', like when you'd accidentally put a red item in with all your white socks. Silly pink socks.
This is not something I'm laughing about. This is killing me and when it's spoken about like it's just a flippant topic, I feel like the war zone I'm living in doesn't even come into the radar. I become invisible and 'it' becomes so overwhelming, I'm forced further into my tiny self.
Forget about the indignant teenager, I'm now the skinny child with long blonde hair blowing bubbles in the front yard in her favourite red skirt. She's so innocent and fragile, she has no idea how hard it's going to be when her daddy leaves in a few years. She has no idea how bad she's going to take it when he's abandoned the family and it's just her mother and sister that she's going to go through life with. Tiny Andréa is just going about her business of watching the shimmering bubbles float through the air, popping on the branch of the massive cherry tree she uses as a swing or a hideout.
The scariest part about all this is, I know many relationships can disintegrate when one half of the equation becomes depressed or powerless. There is an imbalance. My love asked me what scares me the most? My fear of losing my soul mate. Coincidentally, that is Papi's fear as well. But I've made my decision to stay in this and work my way through, no matter how much pain I feel.
I'd say this is the biggest sacrifice I've ever made for love. I love my boo that much. I just need to figure out how to find my power to heal from this. Talking about 'it' just seems to make me shrink into a fetal ball in front of people. It doesn't feel like walking my way out of hell to secure my power.
When Papi told me one of the first changes that was happening to my wife's beautiful body last night, it was like I was stabbed in the heart. It felt like I was physically attacked in the weakest area of my body. All I could do was touch my love's neck to see if my wife was still there. Touching that beautiful skin that encompasses that amazing soul that I love so much. It's the strangest sensation to be able to physically touch the body you psychologically feel slipping away.
Well, today I'm going to search for my power. I'm going to take care of that little girl. It's the only thing I can do.