Had a bit of a breakdown. Of course being overworked and underslept is part, makes me less containment-capable. But I think this is more interesting.

Having started to schedule SRS I run into the problem that the surgeon I decided on has no waiting list. Meaning my only option is to watch the calendar to request dates as they come online. Twice now other people were before me when that happened, in a matter of hours.

This freaks me the everliving fuck out. I panic-worry that I’ll just wait and wait and never get a date and that uncertainty is intolerable. Basically it’s tolerable only if I know I’ve done everything.

This is dysphoria. This is a deep need to finally fix my genitals. It’s desperate now because only now when I decided, do I let myself actually want it, dare believe it can happen. So I’m fully and extremely on edge for it.

What I need is to be able to send the clinic an email from my gmail the minute a suitable date appears. This means I need to poll the site every few minutes. It would have worked from my office workstation but that has no internet connectivity and won’t until at least Monday. Too long. My old lab servers would work but there I can’t install the libraries needed for pip needed for the google mail API, because I can’t sudo. So now I’m reading up on Google’s VM services. If I can access a virtual linux where I am root, then I can set this up.

I then need a cron job calling the Suporn calendar web scraper I wrote earlier this week, some surrounding logic, and the python gmail API to send the email. I’ll probably end up setting this up rather than waiting. I need to know I have done all I can to secure my path to the SRS I need as soon as I can.

I know I’m being overstressed and irrational, but on some level this is still constructive. But I’ll also try to just rest. I’ll be saner tomorrow. And hopefully in possession of a tool that will let me secure a surgery date as soon as possible, having learned several new tech platforms to do it.

Feeling envy, jealousy – cis women get to have anatomy like I need to without going through all this. Cried a lot earlier tonight once I got home. But one way or another I proceed. Nothing will ever stop me for long. I’ll prove that.

gauntlet on ground

So now twice good Suporn dates were announced and I was too late for them. Apparently just a notice app doesn’t cut it, I really need to go full on hacker girl for this.

What’s relevant is how strongly it impacts me. I desperately need this surgery date to be set now. It feels very heavy, very impactful.

Very well. This is who I am. I’ll do whatever I need to get what I want.


Epiphanies come quickly these days one after another. Experience is so intensive and it shifts. My life has weird dynamic ranges. I go from the very detailed or the very obscure to the very high level. In the past weeks I hung out in squats and witnessed the Babylon arch-Chancellor inaugurate something. I hang out with drifters and philanthropists and teenagers and medical bosses, and am at once a patient and part of the treatment infrastructure. I really am spanning systems at this point, in one way of witchery.

By way of the less impressive watch tool, I found Suporn dates in November opened up this morning. I’ve been dazed all day since, but I emailed. I expect someone else requested them before me, but it lets me know I must escalate, accelerate, proceed.

And if I get a November date, that is less than nine months ahead. Almost nothing. I feel like someone who just stopped using contraceptives, still not expecting a pregnancy so soon even though she planned for it, set it in motion. Like the process falls out of your control and it’s time to struggle to get all in place. But I don’t know yet. It’s like I wait for a pregnancy test. It may well be negative still.

Today I didn’t shave and didn’t put on foundation, but still went to another inauguration ceremony and talked to people. I feel individual hairs but don’t see them. Need to let them grow until I see them, to see colour. This is less scary now. As is being out and social.

Core to that is, I believe on an emotional level that I either pass for cis or am read as trans. I don’t expect to be misgendered or parsed as cis male. Surely I am clocked often. But at the same time, I know on some level I have passing privilege now, to some extent. I am treated better than some of my sisters because some of my changes went quicker, some of my starting points were better. Increasingly I have to remember that also. Still really wondering how often I am not clocked. I’m really curious about this.

fvlmina pvella

Things are again so intense stress-wise I have persistent headache but I can’t let any of it down just yet.

Felt deeply lonely during the Friday, and almost didn’t go out Saturday because I expected to be lonely and sad also at the club. Instead I found a queer sex party/disco in a former squat, and going off of the experiment at the concert last week (project “talk to the cute guy/enby named Leo even though you don’t know each other b/c my friends dared me to”), I spoke with some people even though it seemed like that was intruding.

Meaning I ended up talking to strangers, giving several my card, kissing two, and being dressed down by one to my panties in the darkroom and making out. Which was amazing and felt great, and did so despite the person being a man. It helped that both the guys I kissed looked good and projected enough wokeness to fit into that space.

So I felt my touch starvedness decrease, and my self-identification as also interested in men increase, and was sort of euphoric-yet-headached the day after. I may meet these people at the local BDSM munch again and would certainly play with, and go to this party again.

I left quite early still. Did not want to fully lose sleep. Had I stayed, might have gotten spanked, but that’s for next time. It was then at a stage that I could have asked.

I need to keep on practicing these social skills. And I need to keep going out, putting myself out there.

The one I was in the darkroom with, before we kissed I said “you know I’m trans, right?” and he said he was “fine with that” and seemed to find it endearing I asked. The other one said he did not realize I was until I mentioned it. I don’t know if I can believe it but I liked hearing it. With Darkroom Guy, he wanted to go dance off his high quite soon after we started, but I think that was more him than me. More importantly, I couldn’t have been comfortable going further.

I really want a vagina now so cute people can fuck me in it. I want the casualness sex maybe can have then, once I am healed. I want to be able to get fully naked without dysphoria.

And yes, my social life has evolved to a point now where “going out” means “BDSM club” more than anything else. So be it.


Today I should have worked, but I was freaking out over the uncertainty of a surgery date, that I don’t know it yet. I worry everyone wanting Suporn SRS have web scrapers that autosend request emails and that my watchlist marker will be too slow. So I’ve spent way too long today writing HTML parsers and trying out the gmail API. Still not there but once my workstation runs, I can finalize it.

The existence of a trans girl rite of passage where we have to write a web scraper to schedule SRS has delightful stereotype power for me and I cherish it even while it irritates me. Met early morning with an architect. It will cost to fix my bathroom once they pull the pipes out during refurbishment, but I think it will work out. I can save enough this year to be able to cover that even going for Suporn SRS early next year.

I need a surgery date now. I need to know it, build up towards it, prepare for it.

Part of this will be to fix the rest. Voice therapy starts next month.


Laser today. Hurts very little. Before next time, need to not shave for a week so they can see what hair I actually have left. Will start shaving nipples so I can laser them next.

Going without foundation felt fine. I really do look very smooth now. Not all the way there, but almost. Even going away for laser without makeup felt OK. I feel I can defend my legitimacy even then. May try without foundation more often.

Soon time for sunblock again, and today was the first high-heels day of the year.


It’s not a great day. I think I stress dangerously clear to burnout. Particularly one task (start/finish recrunch of all consortium data) has been delayed so much it physically has been difficult to start it. I’ve not had that before, something anxiety disturbing executive capacity. I need to finish that, temporarily let go of all other duties, and just restore tonight. Eventually.

Suporn clinic accepts my Chettawut recommendation letters. So I am one step closer still!

Drew blood again today to check if levels are as they should with gel regime + some progesterone. So I got out for that. Decided to not be as afraid of the sting – after all, I’ll have IV needles in me within a year from now, not to mention deeply deeply invasive cuts into muscle and skin and nerves, and so many surfaces being raw and healing all at once. It’s time to kick my phobia of needles. I still looked away but it really was easier.

amn aion

Thoughts. Emotions.

So, Suporn clinic got back to me. Seems that my gmail worked better. They say to go elsewhere for severe complications when back home (but in interviews, seem still have fixed it both times fistulas occurred), revision guarantee is mostly cosmetic. Which is still scary.

But there’s no-one with better statistics, or more reputable. This is as safe as I can make it. So I don’t need to make it safer than this.

I’m deciding, I’m going to have SRS with Suporn or his successor as early in 2020 as I can. I have told them this.

I am scared for everything practical. This is really at the border of my available funds, and I don’t know yet (Monday I might) how much renovating the bathroom and swapping out the lead pipes will cost. Likely I’ll have to save up more this year to be on the safe side. Learned that medical expenses may be tax-deductible here in Babylon, but no guarantees and cannot rely on that. And still always fear something will go wrong.

But this is enough certainty, enough preparations to proceed to next step. I’m setting this in motion. Spoke to more work people today. My administrator got an interesting smile on her face she tried to hide when I said I’d be away a few months on medical leave next year. She must understand what this is. I look forward to telling more people and seeing their reactions.

They don’t do surgery if you’re HIV positive. No risks taken this year, from now. Not that I usually do. But this means, keeping fluid safety under control, and should get tested again just to put my mind at ease.

Deadline of the surgery date then for getting bodily into shape, getting voice up somewhat, getting better sleep, all those things. Preparing everything and everyone. So exciting! Motivating. But harsh.

The dates are announced on a website and they go quickly, first-come, first-serve. January dates will be announced maybe in a month. Apparently many write scripts to check this. I installed an app which checks every few minutes. But better would be a script that polls and emails them as soon as there is a good date. Challenge is, I don’t know how to gmail from a script. It’s delightful if it turns out writing a web scraper is a trans girl rite of passage, in line with the programmer stereotype.

But even more, this means I cannot yet be certain. I am exactly like a woman who just decided – narrowly and still scared – she will want to be a mother. She’s just stopped her contraceptives and been come inside, the night before, but there will likely be a few months before she knows for certain she has been impregnated, and only then can she start planning for a birth date, start preparing properly. She too may use apps or calendars to plan this as best she can. She too may worry about the pain or risks, and know she is only certain enough to start this process. Certainty reflected in actions more than consistent emotions.

Then the pregnancy. Taking care of the body, preparing, getting enough sleep and staying healthy, setting up leave, learning what she needs to know. Then birth. I will give birth to myself. Like that woman who hopes to be a mother, I don’t know if I will be among the unlucky few who get serious injuries that might take a lot of effort and searching to heal. We both fear that yet here we are working up to the moment.

And just like I’ll fear to hurt myself during recovery, fussing over every detail, so must every mother worry – will I somehow hurt my child’s development by this or that thing?

We cope with this fear and uncertainty as best as we can. By being real. I will become pregnant with myself, birth myself, nurse myself.

This is powerful and I can follow up on it.


If ever I wrote somethin TERFs would thing was appropriating womanhood, it would be this. Never mind that. This is real.

cusp cryptid

Writing from my other address worked, Suporn clinic got back to me.

I’ll start the process of scheduling SRS with them in the next days.

Seeing the message cleared a lot of the anxiety I had the last few days and kept me fuzzy and warm despite the insane stress right now (two grant proposals, one student thesis, three really major papers, one minor paper, home refurbishment).

Of course I’ll stay anxious and on edge until the moment I go under, I wake up, I am all healed. But that I can move through.

Once there is a date, I will have a deadline. Need body and voice and names and life context and family prepared by then. It will require some work. I will perform that work.

Another dear person (first Avatar of Chaos, my sibling-by-soul) also offered to come. That gets my list of preferred companions to three extremely transformatory, hard-to-pin-down, magical queer loved ones who each impacted me. We’ll see what happens.