Today’s been rough. Properly rough. It’s that kind of day where I feel like I need to do something — anything — but nothing feels safe or right. I open apps, close them again. I walk into a room, forget why I went there, and drift back out. Even simple things feel loaded with… something I can’t quite name.
I saw my GP after the occupational health meeting last week, and things have moved forward. My antidepressants have been increased, and I’ve been signed off work for now. There’s a plan forming — psychiatrist, and EMDR therapy.
For anyone who hasn’t come across it before, EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing) is a type of therapy used to help process trauma. The idea is that by recalling difficult memories while doing guided eye movements (or other forms of bilateral stimulation), the brain can start to reprocess those memories differently. It works by revisiting difficult memories while following guided eye movements (or other left–right stimulation), helping the brain refile those memories so they carry less emotional weight.
The goal is to:
- Reduce the intensity of traumatic memories
- Break the loop of past experiences triggering present reactions
- Help the brain “reprocess” events in a safer, more grounded way
- Build a sense of control and emotional stability over time
The GP was pretty clear though — it’s not easy work. It can bring a lot to the surface, which is why they want me signed off while I go through it. That makes sense… but it also makes it feel very real.
What’s hitting hardest right now is the isolation.
I would love to reach out to friends. To just say “I’m not okay” and ask if someone could come round, or if I could go and sit with them. But I don’t. I get stuck in my own head about it:
- I type out a message, then delete it because it sounds “too much”
- I hover over the call button, then convince myself they’re probably busy
- I drop hints in conversations and then feel invisible when they don’t land
It’s not that people don’t care — I know that logically. But in these moments, it feels like I’m on the outside of everything, watching life happen somewhere else.
And locally, that feeling is amplified. I wish I had people nearby, spaces where I could just exist without explanation. Being queer here can feel… quiet. Too quiet. There’s no easy, natural place to connect, so everything has to be deliberate — and when I’m like this, deliberate feels impossible.
On the physical side, things are continuing to settle well. The filler is integrating nicely, and my new, thicker cock is starting to feel natural — less like a change, more like it’s just part of me now. That shift has been steady, and it’s one of the few things that feels uncomplicated.
I’m even considering a bit of a test drive tonight — nothing major, just reconnecting a little — and I’ve got some new poppers that might help things go with a bang. 😈
So yeah… a strange combination.
Mentally, it’s heavy.
Physically, it’s progressing.
I’m trying to hold both without letting one cancel out the other.
For now, it’s about getting through today. That’s enough.
More to come.
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