The Season of the Mouse It should be no surprise to anyone who by random misfortune stumbles across this blog that there are significant time lapses to my postings. The major reason for that is that although my depression is ever present it is also cyclical in its intensity. Autumn is the season of the Mouse but I prefer to call it The Fall. It is the time in which I visit my darkest feelings, the time of my darkest memories, the time and place where I face my fears. I can go on for months dealing with the ups and downs by the use of drugs and sleep in the learned management of my condition but a certain time of year comes along and I am victim to all of the unsaid things. The Holidays. The Holidays are my kryptonite. I detest them. From All Hallows Eve, through Thanksgiving and on to X-mas it is a surrealistic misrepresentation of usurped rituals for the sake of commercialism. For me it is a far greater disturbance. It is the time of my expulsion, my being exiled for the simple reason of choosing to be me. The time in which I said no to my denial. The time in which I decided it was no longer a world in which I wanted to live. So, enough of this drivel. But, there's more . . . Yes, over 40% of us have attempted suicide at some time during our transition. Who cares? Certainly not you cisgendered peeps. What are we to you? Nothing. We are freaks. We are partners who betrayed, sons and daughters who crushed your hopes, parents who did the unthinkable. I get so tired in this season. I look at couples who have overcome the "change" and I am envious. The idea that love can overcome obstacles does not fit into my experience. I am left with hate and emptiness. That is what occupies the hole that once held love. During this season in which I go deep into the darkness I challenge the hate and plead with the emptiness but so far I've always lost. I'm used to losing. Losing and surviving, sounds like a Greek tragedy. If it is true "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger", I should be invincible by now. I don't feel invincible. I will be visible for the rest of this season, more or less, but I won't be with you. I have found a place to hide.