The liver thing is really messing my life up. One day, I'm counting down less than a week's worth of days until I go on Estrogen. The next, I'm going off all my medications, and my transition is regressing. What a blow!
The liver worsened, rather than instantly improving as I'd hoped it would. I don't have the results of my most recent tests, but according to the tests I took before before I went to Italy, my liver is one unhappy organ.
I wasn't prepared to be sucked into this cruel vortex. I have lost control of my life (after just regaining SOME control), and that's depressing. My hormonal transition is on hold indefinitely, and that's hugely depressing. On top of that, I have to go off all my mood meds. Overall, I'm happy to be getting off them, but the timing couldn't be worse. I seemed to have left most of the depression behind, and now I've suddenly plunged back into it, over my head. Yet, here I am going off anti-depressants that I've
been on for more than three years.
When I was in Rome, I visited the Spanish Steps. As you might expect, the steps cover several stories in elevation, and are made of marble. My life has been knocked off its feet at the top of this staircase, and I'm tumbling bumpily down the stairs. I have no idea when I'll reach a landing, whether I'll be able to stop myself when I do, and how bruised I'll be from the fall.
And when I do come to rest, I'm going to have to climb back up.
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