Just a few days ago, weeks of snowy, icy cold weather came to a very sudden end and now it’s winter-warm; in Thursday afternoon’s sunshine it was impossible not to think of the seasons ahead. I lost almost all Spring and Summer of 2016 in retreat from overpowering C-PTSD symptoms so this year I want to have lots of ice cream cones and promenades in the sunshine. I’m particularly looking to my late afternoon champagne sojourns through Vandusen Gardens.
Ten months into being Chris.2 and I feel so much more comfortable with it. Last night and this morning I’m mute here at home. I can’t get a word out but I don’t give a shit. I know that with friends, my voice will be there. I know with strangers I’ll stutter, and sometimes impossibly badly but I don’t give a shit. I point, I say a word or two; I get things done.
My speech is definitely not why I’m moving to medications. They’re to deal with the anxiety that overwhelms me outside my paradise here with Leon.
What I do give a shit about is my play project and I’m rollin’. By the time I hear whether or not I’ve earned a residency with Boca, I will have finished a draft. I hope that Annabel and Costin will do a reading for Me, Dwight, Cathy, Nicola and Dana. I’ll do revisions that come out in that reading in order to have Draft #1 for Boca to read if I get in.