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.
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