Chapter 11 - 11

I was a cisgender man in life. I can think of myself no other way now.

You stop counting the days. A handful of weeks drifts by; of this, at least, you have an approximate idea. You speak with nobody. You touch nobody. As night arrives, you do not sleep. No meals punctuate your day.

And you are not coping. Sometimes you lose yourself in your thoughts. You remain motionless, barely aware, while daydreaming or thinking of places half-remembered. And when you snap to, you realize a whole afternoon has passed, or most of a night.

If you were a living, breathing being, you would surely be in a lamentable state. As it is, the damage to your psyche cannot be underestimated.

Something has to change.