Crossdressers-Haven.com

A little guy is sitting at the bar just staring at his drink for half an
hour when this big trouble-making biker steps next to him, grabs his
drink and gulps it down in one swig. The poor little guy starts crying.

'Come on man. I was just giving you a hard time,' the biker says. 'I
didn't think you'd CRY. I can't stand to see a man crying.'

'This is the worst day of my life,' says the little guy between sobs. 'I
can't do anything right.

I overslept and was late to an important meeting, so my boss fired me.

When I went to the parking lot, I found my car was stolen and I don't
have any insurance.

I left my wallet in the cab I took home.

I found my wife in bed with the gardener and my dog bit me.

So I came to this bar trying to work up the courage to put an end to my
life, and then you show up and drink the stupid poison.'

If you think about it, it's not really funny.

Ummmm, more ironic humor, rather that gut busting humor. Here is a guy with his world beaten down to his feet, and some arrogant individual comes by and makes his attempt to leave the world ineffective. And the arrogant one even has time to get an antidote to the poison. Just sooooo unfair!!

I experienced something like it when I was 15 and had determined that I couldn't live any longer with my gender confusion. So, I took advantage of a weekend absence of my parents and sister, and set up to kill myself in the garage. I half filled a 5 gal. bucket with sand from the sandbox in the back yard, set up a chair about three feet in front of the chair, and went to the house for my father's 12 guage, double barrel shotgun. I had experimented by dry firing once before, and knew I could trigger both barrels by forcing my big toe into the trigger guard, though I couldn't reach the triggers with my hand and have the shotgun against my heart. When I got to the closet where the shotgun was kept, I couldn't find it.!!! It was not in its acustomed place, and neither were the shells I was to use to blow my heart to pieces. Unknown to me, my father had loaned the shotgun to a coworker who wanted to go pheasant hunting in Nebraska. I felt so very, very bad, that I couldn't even kill myself right, that I put away the sand and chair and went to bed, at 1 oclock in the afternoon. So the ironical aspects of the "joke" are definitely not lost to me.

Fortunately, I had already started refusing testosterone shots, so my depression and struggled eased over the next few weeks, and the world became a somewhat better place. If it hadn't, you would not be reading these words right now.

Thoughtfully, Carolynn.

Carolynn,

somewhat speechless, I am!!!!!! All I can say is I am sure glad it was pheasants and not you!!!

We love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you for sharing with us and for being part of our sorority!!!!!

Love ya,

Virginia

Thanks Virginia. I'm somewhat pleased to still be around myself, though it has been a long haul. This place was a major contributor to my adjustment in recent years.

Love, Carolynn

I'm glad you made it through that, Carolyn. One of my closest TG friends did the same thing. She was horrified when puberty hit her, and the male hormones started to go to work. She had been allowed to mingle with her sister's scout troop, and suddenly she was no longer welcome there. Her father was a Marine drill sergeant, and there were plenty of guns around the house. She only tried once, and something stopped her.