Maybe it's just my current state of mind. There's certainly a general weariness and frustration, if not borderline depression.

No matter what the cause...in the cold light of morning, I'm feeling defeated. I think that the forces of ignorance and hate may have won this battle. I'm losing my will to fight.

Being myself is right for me. But it's seen as wrong by the vast majority of other people, and I don't envision that changing any time soon. In fact, I believe that the mood of this country will turn more conservative in the coming years.

Do I go on tilting at windmills? Do I continue to complicate my life and the lives of those around me, just to prove a point? Yes, I'm transgendered. Do I need to make others aware of that fact, when I could just as easily keep it secret?

There's no doubt that I've been affected by the public's strong negative reaction to any news article about gender dysphoria. It weighs heavily on my mind that I'm doing something that provokes so much vitriol. I have no power to change their attitudes. All I can do is try to live my life, but that is precisely what angers them.

I need to think more about this. It's not a problem that can be solved or a question that has an easy answer. There are only adjustments and compromises to be made, and what those might be is entirely up to me to decide.

I was feeling apprehensive all day about the meetup tonight.

It wasn't fear. I've overcome that. No, something else happens when I haven't been in public for a while...or even volunteered. I start to lose confidence.

I see myself as unable to be convincing - as someone who's obviously in a costume but expects to be taken seriously. I begin to wonder why I should put myself in that position.

There would be six people there whom I have not yet met. In that regard, it's no different from the first meeting I attended. But I'm just not motivated right now to present myself to any more strangers.

So I notified Lila on very short notice that I had to change my plans...using the excuse that I've developed a bad cold and am probably contagious. That's not far from the truth. I don't feel very well, and I'm harboring some sort of virus.

I know this is all very complicated. But the essence of it is clear. For whatever reason, I believed very strongly that I should not go this time. And I decided to follow my intuition and cancel.

This will be a monthly event, so I'll have other opportunities to participate.

Before I got this computer last year, my old one had begun refusing to recognize anything other than its own hard drive. CD and DVD recorders, whether internal or external, simply did not - according to its cybermind - exist.

The person to whom I go for solutions to problems such as this told me that the symptom was an indication of its imminent demise. What I was seeing was its way of conserving what dwindling resources remained and using them for only the most fundamental of functions.

That explanation made perfect sense to me. What I don't understand is why it took so many months for me to realize that I'm doing the exact same thing.

In a few days, I'll have another chance to be in a pleasant social environment where I'll be welcomed without bias or prejudice. My wife will be with me. It's the culmination of all I've worked to achieve since I first stepped out as Kay.

But my mind is putting the brakes on again. It's telling me that anything peripheral to the important problems I'm facing is frivolous and self-indulgent. I'm failing to devote all of my thoughts and energy to what needs to be done and instead am selfishly focusing on something that doesn't matter. And the process of presenting different faces to various people seems odd and pointless.

I'll ignore all that, of course. I've learned how important this aspect of my life is to my general well-being, and I'll never again try to live without it.

However, I recognize that there's a defense mechanism at work here. I'm getting a message that ongoing stress levels are too high and there's a need to relieve some pressure ("She's gonna blow, Cap'n!"). The brain can't handle all of it with efficiency, so it's trying to prioritize. Activities and interests that once seemed important are moved farther down the list - to be dealt with only when we're again up to full power. In this situation, there's no room for "fun".

When a person is stoic by nature, there's little resistance to this thought process. It seems to be the natural course of things, and there's a certain satisfaction in being capable of denying one's self pleasure for what's perceived as the greater good.

As I dedicate all my mental strength to resolving the difficulties that are dominating my life, I can think only in terms of being able to enjoy the pleasurable aspects as well "someday".

At the same time, though, I understand all too well that we are not guaranteed any "somedays".

Well, that was quite an outburst. I don't fit the classic definition of "manic-depressive", but I'm certainly up-and-down these days.

Our Meetup group is becoming much more active, and that will help me to get out of the house more. The new plan is to have a regular meeting the first Saturday of every month at the same location and supplement that with other events suggested by participants.

Eight people have signed up for next Saturday night, which is the largest number of attendees I've seen since I joined. And there may be more before the week is over.

I'm not sure what's going on regarding my volunteer work. I'm in touch with Ann periodically by email, and I tell her I'm available to help. But she hasn't needed me. If it were not for my other outlet, I'd be asking Susan to find me another assignment.

It's hard to imagine feeling apprehensive about being in public, although it wasn't long ago that I was quite nervous. Having experienced a few meetings, I now really look forward to having fun with Lila and whichever other members participate. I relish the idea of taking the time to look nice. That's something I don't do often enough.

My wife was in the kitchen, an Andre Rieu DVD serving as background for preparation of her pasta and homemade sauce we enjoy from time to time. In my office, I became aware that the music was of Christmas.

Wrapping up my computer project, I decided to kick back and watch something - anything - on television. We have our entertainment center in the sitting area adjacent to where we sleep, keeping the living room free of such intrusions. Both locations have fireplaces, and she had a log burning already when I headed for the remote control.

At that point, my emotional dam suddenly burst. The conflux of holiday sounds and fire at the exact spot where we said goodbye to George on December 26th brought it all back to me. I opened my camera phone to his pictures, but I was crying so hard that I could barely see them.

It was sadness and a profound sense of loss, but it was also anger.

For months, I've lived with the unrelenting stress of worrying about money from the wee hours of the morning till I fall asleep at night. I'm always mere days or weeks away from some financial relief, but people keep moving the goalpost. I won't even recount the details here anymore.

I've made my life as simple and spartan as I can, selling or trying to sell anything I don't need and some things I wish I could have kept. But that wasn't enough.

Now, I don't even get to keep George.

Selfish? Of course it is. Where do I get this sense of entitlement? Others have it much, much worse. I "deserve" nothing. Why should there be a light at the end of my tunnel? Maybe I've been duped and it's really a cave...with no exit.

Platitudes don't work with me. "Things will get better" is a nice sentiment and well-intended, but it's far more likely that they will not improve and may even worsen. I have very little control and few resources left with which to fight.

What do I want? Just some good news. A promise kept, an obligation met, a step forward. Not being led by a carrot on a stick, endlessly pursuing a reward that's just out of my reach.

I suppose that, at my core, I'm strong enough to handle all this. But it's dispiriting to see no way out and to know that I am powerless to improve the situation. I'm completely at the mercy of others - a slave to whether they take certain actions or don't.

All I can do is try to live through it and lay some groundwork for possible future success. So, although I'm not in the greatest frame of mind for creative work, I keep doing what I can in the realm of music.