Mental Health at my worst



So it a new week, and therefore a new beginning? How many times I have said this to myself. Time will tell on this statement, as I am still filled with self hate and anger. Anger not only to myself because of myself, but because of life in general, and how so totally alone I am. I have no anger or hate to any other living creature. I am just a freak of nature, not a mass murder.

I am not going to go into personal details. Suffice to say, I had some bad triggers last week. Stupidly, I inadvertently let out my intentions of what I intneded to do.

I drove off away from the house with the intention of going all the way North, to my home town. In my pre-teen days there were a couple of places I used to frequent, to hide away from everyone and everything. Even to the point of wanting to kill myself. My most dearest memory, is the house I was brought up in. How I totally yearn and pine to return there, to finish off  the very first attempt, I chickened out of, at 7 years old.

To recap: It was the first time I had ever gone out of the house fully dressed and made up. Thinking back, in my inexperienced fumbling with makeup, I must have looked like a total freaky clown. But during those moment, I was the girl I knew I was, I was a Magical Princess with Fairy Powers. I was alive and happy. I can still remember that feeling and emotion so clearly. I walked down the road, and then down the lane just around the corner. I felt scared yet excited. No scared of anything untoward, but scared  in case my parents, or neighbours saw me. Excited because I was just being the normal me, a living, breathing, happy NORMAL girl.  But I was not normal. I remember skipping back to the road so happily, like I had seen real girls do. Life was magical. It was about 2.30 in the morning ! and nobody was around to ruin my first steps as a girl. No peers, No Teachers, and, most importantly, no bloody bullies.I was free to be me. I really did feel like I was flying on a carpet of happiness and warmth, despite the chilled air.

I returned to the gates of the house, removed Mums sling back heels. and tiptoed down the path and into the back door. As quite as a mouse, I locked up and slowly very slowly, made my way up the stairs into my bedroom. I closed the door and laid on my bed, looking out of the window, on that Moonbeam filled night, that had lit my way out and back safely.

But then it was time to go back to being the “boy” I was born as, and coerced into being.

I can still remember the darkness quickly coming over me, and the tears that stung my eyes. I did not want to ….Back in a bit, im emotionally wrecked with memories..



Phew! this is going to be hard to finish.


As I was saying, Mumbling? I did not want to take of my combination of Mother’s and Sister’s clothes. I did not want to be a boy anymore. I hated being a boy with so much anger. How did I realise at that age, that what I had just done was totally wrong? Not wrong to me, but just knowing I would be punished severely if anybody had seen me. How the hell did I, at 7 years old, understand that being the real me is so abhorrent to society???

I will never know, as nobody saw me, it transpired. I was not punished. But I am in the future, past the event that was unfolding.

I dont think I have ever felt such dark sadness. Along with the stinging tears, making my vision blurred, I could not undress.  I did not want to. I just could not go back to being a boy. I knew it was wrong but I did not understand why. All I knew was that I would endure more bullying from family, and school once again, if I had been spotted and snitched on. The moon was beautiful, the air, although chilly, was warming. Despite falling into complete darkness, that was the moment I prayed to Mother Moon to help me. Praying for her to change me into a real girl, praying to God to help me not be a boy. I promised to always be good FFS. I went to the window, I saw the magical shadows on the rooftops, and in the gardens of nighttime monsters. They were coming for me, they were going to make me a boy again. I was starting to panic, my head spinning, not knowing, or understanding anything.

Why had Mother Moon and her magic light not changed me? Where is this God of love and understanding I had been taught about in sunday school? Why do I feel this way.

The shadows on the rooftops turned into very large black panther shapes, prowling around between the chimneys, waiting for me to return outside, where they would pounce on me, tear me to pieces and cause me so much pain. I knew they would get me and I somehow knew there was only one way to end this Dark sadness and turmoil. I had to escape, my being a boy, as well as the shadow monsters, and I could only see one way to do that.

Mother Moon was still shinning down on me, lighting my path ahead. Despite all the darkness of night, shadows and monster panthers, there was a golden pool of light in the back garden. Looking down into that pool, I knew Mother Moon was inviting me to step into it, to prove my desire to be a real girl. Still fully dressed and made up, I climbed out of the window, pushing it closed behind me. I remember looking full face on into Mother Moon’s eyes, and a feeling of calm from her light.

(Note: i’m complete shaking wreck typing this) 

I looked at the growling Panthers across on the rooftops, their teeth bared, and I was scared, so very scared. Another look up to Mother Moon and the bright warm calm of her love and care. Voices, mine or hers, I do not know. Step out they said, prove you want to be girl. I looked down into the silver pond again. So inviting. I put one step forward, and let one hand go of the window frame. I have never, ever shaken with fear and excitement before, or since. But, the memories of the bullying came flooding into my mind. An incident with Mother where I once threatened to jump out of the window and the punishment I received, along with the comments, she would no come out pick me up.

Mother was not cruel, do not misunderstand. But she was a strict and fair woman. She was my Mother, She was therefore my tutor of life, as her son she wanted. She could not understand my “fetish” and weirdness. As much as I wanted to go to Mother Moon’s pool of being a girl, I put my foot back, reheld the frame with all my weakening strength. I was extremely panicky now. How to get back in. Not much room to turn around to try and open the windows. Absolute despair and panic and shakes, compounded by my teetering on the window ledge in heels!

But, I manged to pull the window open and climbed back in, trying to see where I was going, as by now my eyes were a torrent of horrid stinging waterfalls of self hate and loathing. I made my way to bed, climbed in, and hid under the blankets, waiting for  the Panthers across on the roof tops to come and rip me to a million pieces.

It was then I started to hear the noised of night. Then as if to say goodbye, Mother Moon’s clouds of cover appeared. I knew then she would no longer care for me. That there was not magic in her moonbeams. All because I chickened out of proving I wanted to be a girl.

That was very hard to put into words. It could be better but I hope it is clear enough. I am incapable of revising it, for fear of reliving it.

And so my journey of being a boy began. Always still wanting to be a girl, always looking and trying to understand what a girl was. How they dressed and did their hair.

That boy learnt to cross-dress at any given opportunity. My secret life was in full swing. I was never really happy again, after that night. How could I be? I let the magic moment of Mother Moon’s invitation, to prove my desire to be girl, disappear into my past life.

I still talked to her, begging for another chance, promising to be good,  promising I would not let her down. But the panthers were always still there, guarding the outside, and waiting for me. Perhaps Testosterone was doing its poison by now, I was stronger and, as they say today, “man up”?? I just did not understand my feelings. There were no others like me. There were just girls and boys, mums and dads, aunts and uncles, ad infitium.

Nobody to talk to, to ask, to understand. Just an inbuilt knowledge that it was wrong, and  I would be punished.

Anyway, that enough memories. Im struggling and want to finish my blog about my major event last week.

The above is a defining moment in my existence. An experience I can never forget. I have seen so many things throughout my life. But no memories are as strong. I still see  those snarling panthers today in my adult, very adult,  life. But in my dreams now,  where there are no more moonbeams in my head. They still wait for me to be the girl I am to destroy me.

But I have come along way with gained knowledge from the internet as well as my own life events. I learned long ago how to block out the panthers and my fears by simply puffing my large welsh chest out and  “Manning UP”

I learnt and found magic again in blue pills I could buy off the internet. Magic in that they shrunk his brains away shrunk him, and I had boobies and gorgeous hair, fit for a fairy.

But my fears were there day in day out. Some say I am obsessed with it.

It being “him” and his brains. Why could we not be given an off / on switch to go with.

I learnt long ago that I could not be the girl I felt because he would always get in the way and destroy my attempts to be feminine and me. If you are reading this, you should be an adult, and therefore mentally understand what a penis is. The one that attached itself to me during birth has done nothing but poison my body and mind. Destroyed some relationships because he HAD to get in the way. Ive tried to kill him, Ive even tried to kill myself to kill him. But No..hes still there and so the fook am I.

Society has changed so very much over the years. Most are totally accepting of different human beings now. They understand. The refer to girls like me as Trans.

But to me, life has come full circle, in that misunderstanding and phobia, as they now call it, has returned to threaten me. Those nighttime panthers are always there, they never leave me. Night after night I am shouting and screaming in fear and battles of existence. I have learnt to blend in to life, to mimic males around me, and how to just be human. But, I have also learnt that I can never be a real girl, that I dont want to be a boy. I want to escape those panthers and prove to myself there is real magic in the world. I have a lot of knowledge and wisdom to help others who have struggled with demons and darkness. I have an understanding of those who suffer. I get them for I have seen the shadows of their demons in my own blackness. Not able to experience those demons, but to understand how they affect each and every girl and boy on the planet.


I have real magic now, in my Decapeptyl and Evorel. True magic will happen in the future, to create my lost Vagina out of the necklace of doom forced onto me during conception. We are all born female in form, before something decides to mess us up and become males. We are not given a choice. Some are now, the just know, as I did, that they were born with their own defects and in the wrong human shell. Help is here now for me and them. Mother Moon’s moonbeams of dreams are coming to fruition.

But, I like many, still have demons, waiting in the darkness to devour us,should we step out into the world looking like the opposite of what we are. Some of those demons have now shape shifted into human form, and block our paths, either mentally, physically or both.

I am still struggling to define my existence, because of “him” and his brains. Some may say, and even my Gender Dr has, that as long as my blood T levels are below 3, then all is well. For the record, since being with GIC in february, my T levels have been <0.1 and E levels rising, to the point I am now, female !! My boobs are growing again, but his brains have not shrunk and he has not withered. I acknowledge he is chemically dead, and that is so much light into my darkness. But last bloods showed my T levels at <0.5!!

The Doctors says I have nothing to worry about and gives me the less than 3 speel. I do truly understand that. But to me, any increase in T is food for my panthers, and therin my absolute fear “HE” is coming back to destroy me as he did after my failed suicides,and stopping HRT regimes.

I have been coping more because I feel “HE” is dead. But I dont want him in me, and just dangling there. I live in dread he will come back and so he still haunts me. I need real magic. The Wizard Surgeon with his trained Magic wandknife to make me who I should be, not a woman but a Fairy. Once my necklace of doom is gone,I will have my own superpowers of Fairy Glitter, to sparkle and shine in Mother Moonbeams love again.

I would love to say I am a woman, or at least will be after surgery. But I have learnt this is offensive to some women born without a necklace of doom. Those women command my respect, for the life they have endured and the female experiences they have encountered becoming a woman. It bothers me that people see things as biological rather than in the heart and so I try to blend in more with their thinking. That is either good or bad, but in the end, they are the knowledge and type of human being, I have always wanted to be physically.

I have not been under threat of physical or mental abuse for years. But the thing is, the threat is always out there. Things are happening that are changing peoples opinions of girls like me! My panthers feed on those opinions, as I am still struggling to understand the Woman/Fairy/Unicorn/Mermaid I am. I feel stuck in the shadows until the true magic happens. Some see me already, and even acknowledge me. I have adopted Sisters now who are there for me, as much as I am for them. I so wish it was Sisters by blood, it feels that way, but alas it is not.

Society is still reminding me that I was born a boy, only because I have HIM and His brains. Most have never had the opportunity to meet me, to discuss and understand each others opinions. But the news and social media bring into my vision what is actually going on. Caused by a few, I admit. But enough to cause ripples of reasoning and doubt across the pond of mankind.

There is so much I want to do as my female self. But for the most part, I still feel intimidated, bullied and even scared, moreso than my night panthers.

Triggers in life, and in personal stuff cause me to totally want to step out of that bedroom window and finish off what I failed to do. Prove to Mother Moon that I will do anything to be the girl in my heart, to be the Fairy in the Moonbeams, to bring light and peach to others. After a little row, shall we say, i hinted at what I was going to do. I was unwashed, unshaved and looked a  mess. I drove off to get some food, and fill up with petrol ready for my journey north. But after filling up, the realisation that travelling all that way is no longer an option, because I cannot get access to that house anymore. My family are all passed, somebody else lives there now. My Moonbeam haven is tainted. There is still the railway bridge and a wall  by the sea front I used in desires of suicide, many years ago. But I did not have the patience to drive there. All I wanted was to go “home” and sleep from where I had awoken. But its totally out of the question.

So I parked up in Tescos for an hour thinking about my past visits around the country, and where to do it. But Mehhh Ic ould not be arsed, wanted it done soon as, and so I drove off heading for the North Cliffs by Camborne not far from a frequent place of suicide, the Devils Cove. Dont you just love the resonance in that name?

But after a while, and with my head  a mess, I could not remember how to get there. I was driving round Porthreath lost and alone.

I Pulled into a layby under foliage in a fantasy of successfully hiding away from life, while I ate some aspirin, smoked a packet of smokes, to calm down. One has to be calm to do this right, don’t they??

So onto the car Satnav and programming in my route. My gorgeous new Phablet was working lovely on 4G Streetview. I wondered if anyone else was parked up, googling where to drive to to headbutt some rocks? Wondered how many I could hit before my brain exploded. In the background I heard a chopper, but thought no more of it, as its kind of normal to hear choppers around here.

Found on the SatNav where I needed to be, and set, off. Soon asI got going the copter sounded louder, and i was beginning to think they were tailing me. Sure enough, As soon As I got nearer to Porthreath again, I spotted a Police car as it turned around and started following me the sounds of chopper to boot. At first I thought he might have spotted me going a little fast, as I checked my speedo and was doing about 46 in a 40!! Suddenly the thoughts about letting slip my intentions came flooding into memory. I knew it was going to be a game over. But not 100%, so as I entered the 30 zone, I kept to 30, hoping my tail would turn off, bored.

Kept looking at messing with SatNav, trying to find another route to see if he would still follow me, then saw the next Police car coming at me ahead on:(


I had no where to escape on the narrow road, and as much as I wanted to floor it and barge my way to the destination, im just a nutter not a mass murder. So I stopped and killed the ignition. Then then questions, where are you going,  what are your intetnions, blah blah blah. I tried to fob them off with lies and things like, “Oh im just out for a drive on this nice day”. But i was shaking like a leaf with anger, frustration and chicken shit trembles. They were nice guys though, I have to admit, They listened to my ramblings, But I knew what  was going to happen, and how they would “work” on me to get answers. I was feelin really ill anyway, probably Aspirin, but did not mention it. Guess  I had “manned up” lol. One wanted to section me, but one knew about this new MH place in Redruth. Valued Lives. So while my mind was still racing how to escape, I agreed to go. But they would not let me as I stupidly let out my headbutting intentions down a cliff face, despite my clever attempts at being evasive!

So I had to sit like a goddamn Princess, being chaperoned by her Bodyguards. Not much I ccould do about opening the door, and jumping out. I was feeling ill as shit by now with anyway due to the Asprin, (dont you dare tell them). The point car kept slowing down to keep pace, kind of as if they knew I would try a bolt for it. It did not take long to get to the carpark in Reruth.

Two lovely ladies were in the building and let me in early as it was 2pm (They dont normally open till 5pm). I had a lovely chat and a couple of cups of tea though. Obviously, I found it hard to talk at first. How can they talk to a weirdo like me? Do they think I am just a Perv, or a just a mental case? Do they hate me? Would they help me finish my death drive? Many, many thoughts.

But in the end, I admit that talking to them helped me down, and I enjoyed chatting to strangers about my concerns, my life, my thoughts. At about 4.30pm, I went away for shower and food and then returned in the evening, for 8.30,  but was not allowed into the group. I think, there was supposed to be an LGBT one, but it was cancelled, and I was stuck in a room with a another female. But she was so awesome and really nice, that I felt at east and enjoyed the chat.

Went home and had a pack of a few ciggies due to my eventful day. I was still feeling triggered and self destructive, but I went to bed, cried, and rethought the day’s events through. Then i remembered about the dash-cam I have always running. Gosh, is that my horrid spastic voice, blabbering away to my new friend, driving me??

Next day, I made a video, of which the last half is bloody missing., just before entering the car park. Grrrr. Cant even do a simple video due to MH state.

So here is my little trip to Redruth after getting busted, with some appropriate music.

It is totally sad, as is me 😦   roll on a few days to right now, Nothing has changed much, But I  made pinky promises I would keep safe. Pinky Promises are from the land of Fairies and Magic, and I cant break them, else I will be doomed to the panthers that crawl around the rooftops forever.



But Fairies and Unicorns, have always been a part of my life and my imagination. But  more importantly, of my heart and soul. I will be a Fairy, it will be hard to get there. To be a good Fairy, I have to learn of the pains of life and others, so that when I emerge from my chrysalis, I will sparkle, and bring light and healing, for there is real magic in this sad world, I want to be proof xxooxx🙏✨🦄✨💪🧚‍♀️❤❤❤




  1. Thank you Sis. You give me inspiration to try and be free. Yes, it was hard, and took 3 hours instead of 30 minutes. I am still troubled by the emotive memory. but it was my most defining moment. And I have lived with the guild of not stepping into that pool of dreams every moment of every day. Love you xx


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s