Chris' Light

Do you think that raving idiots realize they are raving idiots? I mean, even if you were just a little mad, don't you think you would know it, somehow?  I have honestly asked myself this question over the years at those times when I thought I might be going a little mad.  I have said to my children or husband or a friend, from time to time, "I'm not an idiot,"  Do you think idiots say that to people so as to convince people they are actually not idiots, or to convince themselves?

I sort of pride myself on the fact that I possess like ten-times the normal amount of common sense as the normal human being.  Not that I'm a genius or anything like that (I can't even spell genius without spell-check - haha!), but I have a methodical and analytical mind that tends to take a problem from the starting point and then I will work through scenarios or paths to a resolution by going backward and sideways and then forward a hundred ways and in the shortest amount of time possible to reach an end.  This works most of the time and usually results in a clear and precise answer for me. Since I have had years and years of honing this talent (or torture), finding the quickest and most accurate route and answer to problems is pretty easy.  But ... there are those times when the question is so big that it takes me a lot longer, but I remain on task, because, like some sort of first-generation computer, my mind will not give up until it finds the answer.  So, again, I ask the question --- Do you think that raving idiots realize they are raving idiots?

I don't believe I am an idiot, but I do believe I am stubborn in the strongest sense of the word.  This is a trait that guides me through many obstacles and also triumphs in my life.  It is also a trait that often gets me into trouble with other people.  Some people like to call this bull-headedness.  I like to call it perseverance, as it is merely a tool of my personality that I use to help me survive.  And isn't that really what we are all doing - trying our best to survive?

When it comes to Chris and his dysphoria and transgender issues, I am pretty stubborn when it comes to many things, and it is not because I want to be right or because I want to fight, it is because I am trying to guide my way through a very crooked path toward some end.  Every day I feel myself growing closer and closer to an end.  Not the end of Chris' journey or of mine, where he is concerned, but an end to the questions and concerns.  It's not that I feel the questions and concerns are ceasing or becoming resolved, so much, as I can feel myself reaching some point of letting go of those things I can not control or handle.  My father, who was an Army officer, retired General, once told me, "People will rise to their level of incompetence."  That is sort of what this feels like - like I am rising up and up and up until I can rise no more.  And when I reach that ceiling then I will plateau on a plane of peace.  I know this because ... I am no longer spinning out of control or downward, as I once was, and so, this is a good thing.  I know I will never have all the answers I search for, nor will I ever be completely at peace, but I also know that I am reaching a point of not needing either and that is huge in my own survival of this journey.

There have been times when I thought I might go mad, seriously.  When I cried so hard or for so long that I was sure despair would quietly drown me in some dark, helpless place.  It was, and is, my love for Chris that pulled me out of despair, each and every time.  It was my fear and hope of his survival that reminded me that I could not go mad.  I am not present in Chris' day to day struggles and experiences through his transitioning, nor do I participate 100%, but I am here and supportive.  I have not walked away.  Some might say that was never an option, but, truth be told, it is, and it is an option parents do take when dealing with their older transgender children.  It is an option I considered, more than once.  If you evaluate all paths and scenarios, backwards and sideways and forward toward a resolution, then you can not do that without finding yourself contemplating this option.  Like I said, it is my intense love for Chris that kept me from walking away.

I think anyone reading this might question a mother who would consider walking away from her child who was and is struggling with dysphoria or who is transgender.  I can't speak for any other mothers, nor would I try.  I can only speak for myself.  This situation has tested every single part of me emotionally and mentally, and it's not just due to Chris' issues, but issues that have nothing to do with Chris but were going on in my life simultaneously to finding out that Chris is transgender.   And so, yes, there were times when my fears of actually going mad pushed me to the point of considering avenues I might take to protect my own sanity and survival.  Thankfully, somewhere and somehow, over the course of many months, I began to rise instead of fall, and was able to see that, with Chris and me, my walking away was not an option at all.

Do you know that quote, "It's not the amount of breaths you take.  It's the amount of moments that take your breath away"?  When Chloe was born she was a brilliant light in my life and every day I had with her she took my breath away.  When I am with Chris now, in his presence or talking on the phone with him, I still feel that same light and I he continues to steal my breath away.

This is not an easy road, but I am stubborn and sometimes very selfish and it is those traits that are helping me rise up every day above tears and fears to that place where all I care about is feeling Chris' light ...