I don’t know where to start with what I’m worried about because it feels like I’m worried about everything.
I guess I’ll start with my kids. I’m worried about Adam in particular. Their sleep schedule has gotten so erratic that I can’t predict on any given day when they’ll be awake. We have an appointment with the UTSW sleep clinic but it’s not until July 8th. I know that’s only a couple of weeks away but it feels like forever.
Adam is understandably very upset about their sleep schedule (or lack thereof.) They can’t really do anything at all around it, which includes starting therapy necessary for transitioning.
They’re finally taking hormones, so at least the process has started. But I’ll be honest that it’s much slower than I expected. I think I just got too excited and overzealous when they announced they were transgender. It’s kind of ironic because in my opinion, they already look at least as feminine as Amy (two years after she started hormones!) Adam just has very fine, delicate features. When we go out together, people always call us both “ladies” already. My sister-in-law even presumed that Adam was trans but of course they’re not ready to be out yet. I sent my dad a family picture on Father’s Day and he commented that Adam looked like a very attractive woman.
But I know the hesitation is part of dysphoria and no amount of reassurance on my part can rush them into feeling comfortable with themselves any sooner.
In the meantime, I just worry so much. About the dysphoria, about the sleep irregularities, about what I presume is under-treated depression. The only reassurance I have is remembering that Amy went through something very similar earlier in her transition (and it was every bit as terrifying to me.)
I worry because my youngest is going away to college in just a couple short months. He’s one of my very best friends and I am going to miss him so much.
I’m worried about my husband, too. This weekend is likely to be hard on him for several reasons, not least of which is that due to a scheduling snafu last time, he only has a week and a half between chemo cycles this time. And he had to work until midnight last night. And Saturday, he has to go directly from getting his chemo pump disconnected to an outdoor picnic (ugh! Texas heat!!) to get confirmed in the Episcopal church.
I’m worried because I feel so much time pressure to fix my relationship with money. I’m also worried because I don’t seem to be coping as well with all of this as I think I should be. But the truth is that there’s absolutely no kind of guide map for how to cope when your spouse is dying—especially when you don’t know when that will be.
I’m trying to distract myself by daydreaming again about where else I might want to live in the future. Maybe I’ll go to Costa Rica. Maybe someday I’ll take a lover, just because I’ll be lonely for companionship and sex. But at the same time, it’s hard to imagine anyone else wanting me, and I know I could never replace J, anyway.
The future is just so uncertain and that always makes me feel shaken.