Mourning Wood
(warning: potential overshare by author, proceed with caution)
As it turns out, I traveled more than one road on my journey of self-discovery that eventually led me to 'Nora.' The particular path that's on my mind at the moment relates to a long history of E.D. I tried to manage in my 'old' life. Spoiler alert: I didn't do a very good job. Now, of course, it makes perfect sense why nothing seemed to work, but it was quite frustrating living through it. I tried all the pills with little success. I met with urologists, and underwent a variety of evaluations and blood tests to try and understand why I couldn't get it up when I wanted to get down. When it was revealed that my levels of testosterone were low (go figure), I began using testosterone hormonal patches. This amuses me a great deal nowadays, as I think to myself that those particular patches were the exact opposite of what I really needed! Nothing worked, which, of course, led to the conclusion that it was all in my head. They say that there are only two things in life that are guaranteed: death and taxes. I'd add one more: hoping for an erection to last is the surest way to ensure it won't.
Currently I no longer have a need for them (thank God!), but until I'm able to undergo my long wished for "bottom" surgery, I'm stuck with this archaic genitalia that does nothing for me but cause my gender dysphoria to spike and ensure that the only swimsuits I wear must come with a proper old lady skirt (so sexy). Unfortunately, that means I'm also stuck with a common physiological response that many cis gender men experience upon waking: morning wood. I finally sucked up the necessary courage to embarrass myself and asked my endocrinologist about this. She assured me that this was somewhat common. Apparently it's a signal from the lizard part of my brain that I have no control over. Still it's quite disconcerting to start a day in this decidedly unladylike manner. My vaginoplasty can't happen soon enough.
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