More Dust

I'm sitting at the airport waiting for my flight which is supposed to leave in less than an hour. The plane isn't at the gate yet, which is a little bit of a concern, considering that I've only got 45 minutes between flights in Atlanta. The good news is that the weather there looks ok today, and the other good news is that they haven't noted any delays on this flight in particular yet, but this is one trip I'd rather not have problems with.

I've never been on a trip quite like this before. I travel quite a bit - anyone who has followed my journeys for very long will know that the term "road warrior" applies. Last weekend I was in Connecticut. The weekend before that I was in San Francisco recovering from surgery. The weekend before that I was in Cleveland at the Wrestling event. The weekend before that I was at the University of CT. Anyway - you get the picture.

But this is the first time I've been on a trip that has the emotion that this one does. I very much approach things in a workman-like way and there are a number of things that need to happen so while I'm focused it's ok. Like the wrestling thing. But once all the "work" is done and there's time to let down the defenses that's when the emotion hits. As I mentioned I went into the back and cried like a baby - no real reason other than all the emotion that had pent up in the weeks and months leading up to it. I need those kinds of outlets.

Most of the time people see me as this strong, confident person and most of the time that's true. But the beauty of my life these days is the added dimension of feeling more emotion than simply anger or indifference. For someone who couldn't cry for over 30 years the mere fact that I CAN cry is a minor miracle because that, I've learned, is my humanity. I'm not some autobot that runs on autopilot that doesn't feel. If anything, I feel acutely. And, this trip is full of feeling.

The underlying reason for the trip is to collect the few pieces of my world, including my car, and retrieve them from Charleston. Events of the past few weeks seem to have led down a path where done is done. And although I think much could have been accomplished with a simple phone call - either from me or TO me - the fact that we are where we are. I have nothing negative to say. But it is sad to watch friendships die.

I've packed a number of special things for this trip. For example, my niece Kyrie who was born with all kinds of birth "problems" used to love to watch "Finding Nemo". She'd watch it time and time again (although we usually skipped over the beginning part where the mom gets eaten - too scary). I have come to believe that most things you need to know if life can be found in that movie and I brought it along to watch on the plane. We all need reminders sometimes.

I also packed a small bottle of my father's ashes. Typically I spread some of them at places around the country that were important to him in his life. Most of these events have become deeply spiritual for me and remain a real-life connection to him for me. I want to put some of his ashes into the Atlantic along a section of beach near Charleston that has become important to me. So, there's a small container in a small plastic bag (the last time I brought his ashes anywhere the TSA actually opened the container - not good) with a single rose. My dad is coming with me on this because I'd prefer not to do it alone. And, I'll leave part of him there just as I leave part of myself there.

I'm trying to avoid too much exertion - I already got a call from the surgeon's office telling me not to lift things that are too heavy yet and to especially avoid clenching my teeth to avoid bleeding so I'm doing my best to listen to that advice.

Other than that - I'm headed to do what needs to be done. And then, I'll heal some more.

(They just announced an oversold "situation" on the flight to Atlanta - even though we're past the scheduled boarding time the plane is just arriving. This isn't a trip I can delay).

It's still amazing to me how much strength I've lost in the last ten days. Anyone going for surgeries needs to recognize the longer term effects of getting energy back. I don't know if or when I will but it'll take a while. I think all the work to get ready for the Nationals had me at peak performance. Part of that is that I'm a very focused, purpose driven person so I had something to work towards. Sometimes, though, we get reminded to slow down. I'm feeling as though this is one of those times.

Generally - I'm ok. My jaw feels funky in that it hurts but it's numb (it's hard to be both, but it is) and when you're not 100% physically and/or emotionally it's important to have focus. For the moment, I do. One friend suggested that I make sure to see a therapist and the good news is that I started seeing one in July - back when I REALLY hit a wall and needed some help. The question she always asks given all I do is - "What about Donna? When are you going to stop and thing about what Donna needs?" Going to see a therapist was actually one of the best parts of my transition - there was lots that needed to come out - and I think it's unfortunate that there's a whole in the safety net for our community for those of us who have surgery who somehow believe we don't need it anymore. I've come to learn that many of these issues - intimacy, self-acceptance, self-identify, coming out, life direction, etc - make themselves more apparent LATER so it's important to have resources to discuss them. I know I'm strong - but I've also come to accept (along with my emotion) that I sometimes need help.

Anyway, they're going to start loading the plane soon so I'll close. I find my writing to be a cathartic thing so I may be doing more of it. Much of the writing I did during my transition eventually became my book. This is actually the cheapest form of therapy that there is.

Onwards!