.....'He stopped shaving my scalp as the last wisps of sprigs fell down my swollen face, and I felt him move back. When I looked up, he was not in my view and I was alone in front of the mirror.
Big wet brown eyes stared back at me, it was as if they consumed my face. It was not me, but then it was.
.......I was changing so much lately....... but it felt different today........ I couldn't put my finger on it, but somehow I knew I was staring into my very soul. And I didn't like what I was seeing.
I closed my eyes again and tried to fight the tears. I could feel the pit of my stomach rolling and I fought hard to swallow the bile coming up. It was not time, I told myself, you can't throw up now, not now!
Taking a deep breath, I looked up again trembling, as my eyes fought to clear my vision. Was this me?
From somewhere, I saw my right hand move over my bald head and slowly caress the side of my face, but I didn't recognize my own touch. I watched it travel down my neck and then began to slide the towel down my shoulders, it sent shivers down my neck.
It was nothing sexual about my touch, just hard cold vibrations. I felt abandoned.
I tearfully continued to watch my hand traced over the flat scared area of my chest, now puckered with pink scars and staple marks. One side smooth from the glue and other side rough from the staples.
It was grotesque! It was ugly!.....it was not me !!!!!!
I balled up my fist and crossed my lop-sided chest with swollen arms and let the tears flow.
No sound came from the monster in the mirror just overwhelming loneliness. And it was as if a dark cloud covered me.
Somehow all that I saw in me was stripped and I lay bare. It hurt like a knife piercing my heart.
And somehow, I knew then, ......my femininity was gone.
The realization started to drain me and I began to slide into the dark hole that haunted me..dear God,
I cried to myself....
.......why are you ignoring me?
