by Cindi Jones
“I haven’t had surgery yet, if that is what you are asking.” I timidly responded as I felt a glaring look from the nurse’s desk.
“Well I’ll be god damned. I’ll no longer be the black sheep in this bunch. Thanks sweetheart for coming to the party. This is going to be a fucking good time in group tomorrow morning. Holy shit. I never thought that some queer would be helping me, I’ll tell you that!”
We talked some more and I was able to explain to him that I indeed was not queer, that I was no drag queen, and that my problem was not based on sexual desires. We talked for a couple of hours as I further explained some of the harassment and hate thrown my way during previous months. He told me about himself and how terrible he felt about his problem.
“I just don’t know what to do,” he said as tears filled his eyes.
“Jim, we have something in common. We don’t know what to do.” And so, we wiled away the early morning hours sharing stories and sharing each others shoulder to cry on.
“Cindi, I don’t care what anyone says,” he started as we saw the breakfast carts arrive “you are one brave little gal.” I’ll be rooting for you in group this morning.
As the clanging of the breakfast trays moved into the common, Jim hurriedly got up and returned to his room. And my 3 new friends joined me at the table.
“Good morning Cindi!” Andrea exclaimed. “Wow, you are looking fine for first thing in the morning.”
I told her that I had been up for some time talking to Jim.
“Oh, you were talking to Jim?” She asked with surprise. “Did you know that he beat his wife? He might hurt you Cindi,” she cautioned.
“He did tell me about that Andrea and no, I am not afraid of him,” I responded.
“But he is evil Cindi, how could you talk to someone like that?” she asked.
“Andrea, I don’t know. It was happenstance that we struck up a conversation and I know now that he has his own demons to deal with. He feels a deep sadness for what he has done. He’s really tearing himself apart from what I gleaned in our conversation. Andrea, our lives are different, but I have to say that in the depths of our souls we are both trying to come to terms with our lives and make them worth living,” I explained.
“Wow, Andrea said with wonder. “That is very deep. Cindi, you are a very nice person.”
“Yes,” I thought, “At least for another hour or so.” Group session was 57 minutes away.
Rise from the fall, part 4
Andrea came to my room. “Cindi, it is time for group,” she said.
“I’ll be right with you,” I replied as I laid my brush down in front of the mirror.
She took my hand as we walked across the common to the room where we would hold our group therapy session. A couple of others were there including the two women who had not been part of our “happiness fest” the evening before. Spirits were good as we talked and laughed and welcomed in the remaining members. The group moderator arrived as we were settling ourselves. She wondered in amazement at the jocularity and chattiness she saw.
“Before we begin,” she started, “I’d like to know what has happened here. Yesterday this session felt like a funeral. Today, everyone is happy.” Everyone looked at me with a grin. The moderator, a slim woman with dark hair dressed in a hospital smock, looked at her notes. Her eyes darted around the circle and then landed on me. I could see what she was thinking from the look on her face and the light in her eyes.
Jim sauntered in and took the last seat. The hush was immediate. Everyone stopped what they were saying. The effect was that of a light switch. Lightness then bleak darkness. Still, most everyone conveyed in their facial expression that spirits were holding up.
“Let’s get started,” the moderator said. “First of all, I’d like to introduce you to Cindi Jones our newest member. Cindi, what we do is discuss our problems. Each of you will take a turn to briefly explain your problem and the issues you are dealing with. We will then go around the group to give everyone a chance to offer their advice, opinions, or whatever. Cindi, for the benefit of others I would like you to give us a brief background so that we can understand you better. However, I will not call on you first. We’ll have a couple other members start off our session so you can see how we do things. Okay, who will be first?” No one volunteered.
“Jane,” the moderator said as she faced the one of the women who I had not met, “would you please start our session?”
“Okay” Jane replied. Jane went on to briefly explain that she had been in therapy there for 5 days now. That was 5 days that she had been clean. She explained the terrible anguish she was experiencing as the drugs left her body. Once she said her piece, we went around the circle and each offered a brief response or opinion.
The happy mood was spoiled as each member uttered some bland opinion or response. It was easy to see what was going on here. We were going through the motions. No one was really participating. Now I understood what Jim had told me the night before. The moderator looked at me and asked if I would like to contribute something.
“Yes, I would like to.”
“Jane,” I started, “I don’t know you. I can’t fathom what you are going through. I have no idea what it is like to come down off drugs. I do know however that there are people in the world who love you. I hope that I can get to know and love you too. From the bottom of my heart I want to offer you my support. I know that I cannot help you with your problem. But I will be your friend.”
Jane lifted her chin and turned her head to face me. Her mouth was partially open and her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you Cindi,” she replied as she turned and looked for something to dry her eyes. She quickly received a Kleenex passed to her from the moderator and she wiped her eyes and then the rest of her face. I had not noticed the quivering of her lips and the perspiration on her face. But now it was undeniably clear. She was shaking and shivering with the DT’s.
After two people had shared their stories, the moderator turned to me. “Would you like to go next Cindi?” she queried.
“Well, I’m going to have to do this sooner or later,” I answered. “I am here on suicide watch,” I started. “But my real problem is in all likelihood the strangest thing that you will encounter in your lifetimes. Before I tell you these details, please know that I am a real person just like everyone else here. My problem is mine to deal with but I can assure you that is just as difficult to deal with as those that you face.” I went on to briefly describe that the classification for my mental problem was gender dysphoria. “It is more commonly known as transsexualism.”
The shock wave hit the room. The mood clearly changed. One woman shifted in her seat to face the moderator. Andrea sunk her face into her hands as she bent over. Jim smiled at me. I further explained how the events of the weekend had unfolded. How I had been beat down and conquered. How I had my hair cut. How I had met with my ex to strike a deal to see my children. How I had gone to work dressed as a man. Jim’s facial expression turned to a face of compassion, feeling the intense emotion that I was attempting to express.
After my “brief” introduction, the moderator asked other members for a reaction. One or two offered bland and insincere comments. Then she asked Andrea if she would like to say something.
My new friend said “NO!” and buried her face in her hands ever deeper.
“Andrea, I would really like you to offer your feelings.” The moderator said.
Andrea straightened up slightly, keeping her hands over her face. I could tell that she was crying. “All I can tell you,” she started, “is that I find myself in a room with intense and dark evil. Satan is here with us. I can’t be here. I can’t respond to this. I need to leave.”
She quickly got up and left the room in tears. I felt terrible. I slumped back into my little world. I let the Squirrel spin the cage in my mind. She’d run, but she was still silent. The environmental happenings around my being became second stage to the spinning cage.
The moderator,
desperately trying to get the group back under control, said “Please everyone, settle down. We are here to solve problems, not condemn our peers. Give me a minute and let me check on Andrea.” She left the room and suddenly I became acutely aware of 5 pairs of eyes drilling down on me. As I glanced around the circle, each woman would quickly look at something else. Jim looked my way with a face wrought with concern.
I watched the seconds tick on the clock until the moderator returned. “Andrea will be sitting out this session. Now, let’s continue. Who else wants to comment on Cindi’s revelation? Jim would you like to comment?” she queried.
“Sure I would Ms. Moderator. Cindi is the only honest person here. She and I had a long chat last night. Now I don’t know much about you Mormons and I’m not a real religious man…. But let me tell you that Cindi is the finest god damned Christian that I have ever met. She is honest and was the very first person to talk to me here. None of you have even said shit to me. I know that you are afraid of me but damn it, I am a real person. I have feelings too and Cindi knows that and has tried to help me. I know that there are some of you here who got to know Cindi last night and instantly liked her. I heard you laughing and talking in the common last night. You’d better not condemn her now. She’s not any different. You just know about her fucking past.”
“Jim, please refrain from swearing,” cautioned the moderator.
Jim had expressed himself with passion. “I know that it was significantly different than their common group experience last night,” he finalized.
A pause hung in the air as everyone figured out what to do next. I looked at the moderator. Her returned glance said, “Let’s go with the flow.”
She looked at each member of the group. Most squirmed in their seats. Finally, Jane broke the tension.
“Yeah. What Jim said,” she stated proudly. “I don’t know Cindi but the first words out of her mouth hit me right. I like her.”
Slowly but surely, life came back to the group. We continued on with the rest of our stories and solicited comment and advice from the other members. I could tell that some of the others were definitely having a hard time with me in the room as we continued. But continue we did, and the time allotment for group session arrived too soon.
“Well,” the moderator started, “this has been the most interesting group session I’ve observed for some time. I encourage you to get together and discuss it. Please.” She stood and walked back to her office.
I headed straight for the dining area. My throat was irritatingly dry. I needed a soda. I opened the door and retrieved a Diet Coke. I turned and sat down, shocked to see Jim sitting across the table from me.
“You did okay Cindi.” I tell you that was the best god damned thing I’ve ever seen.”
Jane joined us at the table. “May I sit with you two?” she asked.
“Sit yourself down” said Jim as he deftly stood and pulled a chair out for her. Undoubtedly, she was very surprised at his response.
“Jim and Cindi, I just wanted to tell you both that this was the best group we’ve had. I know that everyone else was uncomfortable but I really liked what you both said. Cindi and Jim, I want to be your friend too.”
“Well I’ll be dashed,” said Jim.
I looked at him wryly and queried “Dashed Jim? Are you cleaning up your language?”
“Hell no, its just something I saw in a movie,” he replied jokingly.
“I will be honored to be your friend, Jane.” I said.
“Are we going to have lunch together?” asked Jane.
“By all means young lady,” Jim responded.
With that Jane left and started talking to the other members in the common. Big Brother was taking notes again.
As we sat at the table enjoying our lunch, I took special note that Andrea was absent. I felt sad that my new friend tore herself away from me. Squirrel started spinning up her cage in my mind again as I lamented my latest loss.
“Cindi,” Jane announced, “please tell us about yourself.”
Someone else clamored for additional details. With that I told them about myself, that I was an engineer, the hobbies that I enjoyed, and all other trivia. Then the real questions came.
“Have you had any surgery?”
“Do you like men?”
“Have you ever kissed a man?”
“What does it feel like?”
They flooded the room with the full gambit of questions. I answered them as best as I could. I did feel uncomfortable with this but I told them I wanted to answer all of their questions and concerns.
Lunch extended well beyond 1:30 as we talked. One by one, each of us got up and went back to our respective rooms. I brushed my teeth and decided to see if I could catch some news on TV. I missed it again. “Oh so what” I said to myself. What’s going on in here is much more interesting. Sure it was hard and it was difficult, but I could feel that I was facing my demons and knocking them down one by one.
I opened the door to let some fresh air in. Nurse Big Brother was frantically writing in her notepad. I could see Andrea in the opposite corner talking to Jane and one other woman from the group. I left my room and approached them to try to talk to Andrea. She politely excused herself and fled back to her cave.
“Cindi, Andrea is very upset with you.” Jane said.
“I know” I said sadly. “I’m so sorry that I hurt her,” I added.
“It’s not your fault,” said the other woman. “I do not understand your problem either. That is something you taught me in group this morning. You don’t have to understand a problem, but you can feel compassion for someone. I’m finding out now, just since then, that I have new friends. We might not be friends for life but we are getting to know each other,” she said.
“Hey, it’s almost time for afternoon group.” Jane interjected. I looked up at the wall clock. Where had the time gone?
Andrea arrived and tried to find a chair where she couldn’t see me. She searched in vain. With only eight chairs in a circle, there is no where to hide.
“It’s nice that we are all here again.” The moderator said. “I’m very pleased that Andrea has decided to join us again,” she added.
“It’s not like I want to be here” grumbled Andrea.
We started sharing our problems and talking about them, just as we did earlier in the morning. But I did notice a distinct change from the morning session. Most expressed real interest and tried to connect with the other group members. Finally, the moderator asked Andrea to say her piece. And she unwillingly complied.
“There is black evil in this room and it makes me very uncomfortable.” Andrea started. “I don’t know what you want me to say but I know I don’t want to be here. And that’s all I have to say.” She stared at me with her blue eyes piercing my very soul.
“So what is the problem you are sharing with us Andrea?’ queried the moderator. “Is it your problem or Cindi’s problem?”
“Well it certainly isn’t my problem and I don’t want to talk about it,” answered Andrea.
“Anyone want to comment?” asked the moderator. Jane was the first to speak up.
“This is really weird Andrea. I don’t get it. Cindi is a real decent person. She is not the devil in sheep’s clothing,” she said.
“Yes she is. She’s the devil,” Andrea retorted.
“You used the pronoun she Andrea.” Jim chimed in. “You already have made the first step to accepting Cindi for who she is.”
Andrea pulled her hands away from her face and glowered at Jim. “How dare you!” she screamed. “I do not acknowledge her, she is evil!”
“There you go again.” Jane said.
“You know you are right.” Another woman added. “How many of us know Cindi as a man? Or who among us think of her as a man?”
I realized that none of them had really noticed me when I first arrived. They had never seen “David”. They knew only Cindi. This was indeed an interesting turn of events.
“Andrea,�
� Jane started, “do you see Cindi as a man or as a woman?” “She looks like a woman to me but she said that she was a man this morning.”
“So when you look at her, what do you see?” interrupted the moderator.
Andrea turned her glowering face in my direction and looked at my chin. “I guess she looks like a woman.” Andrea stated coldly.
Another member of the group asked “Well Andrea, you do see her as a woman. What is evil in that?” “I don’t know,” she said.
I could take it no longer. “Andrea, I know that we have known each other for only a short period of time. We had a wonderful time last night. Believe me, I am the same person. I am not evil incarnate. I will not tempt you with any sinful act. Remember what Jesus said when the Pharisees asked him what was the most important commandment? He said that the most important laws were to love god and then thy neighbor. He also implied that all of the other commandments were based on those two. It seems to me if we all were to obey these two commandments, the others would not be necessary.” I went on, “believe me. I have had to deal with this same problem of “being evil” with myself. For years, with every waking moment, I thought myself to be a horrible sinner. An authority of the church told me my sin was second only to murder. Can you imagine how I have felt facing this awesome thing every single moment of my life? I want to be your friend Andrea. I know you have tried to commit suicide. So have I. None of you know this yet but I have tried twice. On the second attempt I actually hung myself and kicked away the stool.”
Andrea lifted her eyes and looked at me, not my chin, but me. Understanding washed over her. “You tried to kill yourself too?” she asked.
“Yes, I did. And at this most difficult time in my life, I think that I can honestly say that I’m glad that both attempts failed. After all, I was able to meet you and share a few hours of joy last night with you. I’m glad that I had those moments.”