The About Me section took some time to get it right, but this is about as good as I can get! It may be a lot more than you want to know. But knowing who I am as a person will certainly help you understand where I’m at today.
So who is this Kyd person?
The bare stats are easy; I’m over six feet, overweight by 30 pounds, and over the hill.
A white middle class man, who is finally coming out. Queer is the easiest term to use, as I find saying post-op Transexual woman tends to put people off. Stuck in the middle of a mega city and laying in bed with two sleeping dogs between me and the woman who loves me.
I’ve had good times, a lot of friends and success. But I can’t really say I’ve ever been happy or content.
I’m in constant pain of one type or another, which every winter notches up a number on the pain scale. Since it’s now been ten years of ever increasing agony I should have reached the top on the 1 to 10 scale. That’s where the opioids come into play, they change the scale basically, by reducing the pain from a 7 to a 5.
The hydromorphone is a suped up morphine, a little goes a long way. Prescribed with the best intentions I need to add. The opioids are on top of another 20 other medications, some for pain, some hormones, 2-3 for sleep and restless legs. Pills, patches and a compounded creme that is one of the few that works. that I’ve forgotten what they’re prescribed for.
I am mentally ill. I can function in society just fine, mainly. The nerve and joint pain, coupled with insomnia add to the illness of depression which was caused by trauma induced complex PTSD. The root cause of my off-balance brain.
A single traumatic event, gone unchecked for years, that ate away at portions of my mind. Maybe it created a very faulty wiring issue, one I can’t fix on my own. I am not alone with trauma, PTSD and adolescent sexual abuse.
But I damn well feel like it. Alone.
I’m great at destroying things, like relationships, or condemning a piece of art or music I’ve created as garbage.
I’ve been married, divorced and remarried. A mediocre father and nearly unknown to my grandchildren due to distance, the coming of Covid 19 and lack of time.
I’m married to a woman who loves me dearly, this long relationship made possible by confessing my struggles with gender before we got serious. She didn’t leave. …yet… and although she doesn’t fully understand the trans identity or severe depression she, accepts them as very real.
I’ve been drug and alcohol addicted. My one crowning achievement in life was simply closing the liquor cabinet one day and leaving it closed. The thought has crossed my mind, opening the cabinet again. I won’t lie.
My faith in a higher power was replaced by an existential belief that there’s no purpose or logic to any of it. And since God’s right-hand man, closest friend and golfing buddy recently called trans folks a threat to mankind, I think I made the right choice. God’s word on Transgender and IVF.
I’m Queer. The “Q” in the LGBTQ equation. I was born a cis man, with the required XY chromosome, and even with all the medical advancement that can’t ever change. I’m not in your face, flag waving nor care to be. I just want to be treated fairly.
A member of the older Silent Generation, where in my late 60’s I finally feel comfortable enough to come out of the closet. But only to a handful of people who I’m comfortable enough to share this fact with. Okay, so that’s cheating. Coming out to just a few close confidants isn’t coming out at all. Makes me a hypocrite in some sense.
If you need a label try a post-op Transsexual (mtf) who lives primarily in her male facade due to age, size, and the effects of 50 plus years of testosterone. I’ve grown comfortable playing a role, maintaining the disguise. But living a lie has taken it’s toll. The impact of coming out in a world full of transphobes and haters, may bring harm to those close to me. My close friends and family are concerned for my own safety. I’m concerned about theirs.
Through 60 years I’ve identified as Gay, bi, and now straight I suppose. I’m sexually attracted to females. Except now my sexual drive is resting comfortably at zero.
Coming out to my children was incredibly hard, but they’ve accepted, perhaps made easier by lack of contact. Their love for me is such a gift, and I treasure it more than they know.
I was considered a successful businessman, moving up the corporate ladder in big pharma, making a lot of money for a lot of people. Robbing from the poor and unhealthy.
This was in my native United States.
I ended my glorious career with 25 years dedicated to growing a small company into a highly respected member of the industry. And somewhat enjoying the work and growth, until my services were deemed non-essential. Happens to the best of us.
All of this occurred in my adopted home in Canada, moving here out of love.
My hope is this blog will enable me to make sense of a life that got out of control. Got knocked off the rails and never managed to get back on track. And by blogging I take a step outside myself and subjectively try to understand why I’ve grown old without being able to shed this depression, and anger.
As I look back, I’m not proud of who I was, nor really who I am now.
Hopefully I still have life left to change this. To stop living the lie.
A work in progress, the ultimate goal to to show myself a little grace, forgiveness, compassion…love.
“Time will tell”
