My Lurid Story (or, My Wimpy, Wimpy Ways)
Yes, Doctor Moon *has* a LIFE...
"You can give yourself a brain infection, by thinking
too much, too."
-- Dr. Moon's Dad, upon hearing some tidbit of information about blood poisoning
from Dr. Moon as an adolescent
"It'll all work out. You wait and see. You'll find the right one, and when
you do, you'll know it."
-- Dr. Moon's Grandmother, upon hearing of Dr. Moon's romantic woes, girl
trouble, etc.
"They're all just jealous."
-- Dr. Moon's Mom, commenting on his early detractors in grade/grammar school
I think there can be no other way of this, than
to begin, *at this culture's official beginning.* I was born, with unusually
high androgen levels... However, doctors glossed this over. They-- it appears--
*may* have done what they thought a "minor" nip-and-tuck to a certain "deformed"
region of my anatomy. In official terms, I am as yet undecided, where my
natal medical records are concerned-- I have all the *signs* of someone who's
suffered from a specific kind of "private amputation," but, ahhh, just *try*
tracking down those doctors and nurses and orderlies-- They're states and
years and files away from my life, by now... Besides, they saved me... You
see, I was *stillborn.* So, to *sue* them for "reparative surgery" fees,
seems *petty,* to say the least... But, I would *still* like to have the
"hardcopy evidence," in my hands.
As a growing child, even, I was markedly "alien," in my thinking-- I was
blessed with what is commonly known as a "photographic memory," oft correcting
the teacher who was guiding us through a text I'd read before, made a minor
"mistake" in wording... My visual memory, and imagination, were vivid enough,
that I became known as a "sketcher," from grade school on-- I had a hunger
for reading, which far surpassed most of my classmates, and a talent for
repairing mechanical or electrical gadgets improvisationally, via MacGyver...
I experimented with many forms of creative expression, including
theater...
And, most notably, I didn't understand concepts like bigotry and prejudice,
at all. I accepted all those around me, *unconditionally.* My bright-eyed,
trusting nature, was rather puppy-like...
However, underneath all these blessings, was a sadness... I was haunted by
inner visions I didn't know how to explain. When I tried to tell stories
about them-- even heavily *disguised* ones-- to others, they generally refused
to listen. And, I found that many people, abused my trusting, hopeful
nature...
Hence, I turned to *drawing* and *painting* these visions/perceptions, instead.
My ability to *sing,* was likewise repressed, when my family noticed that
I had a preference for the tunes of *male* singers, over female-- Also, my
parents were just plain *repressed,* themselves... They were not the types,
to let children *be* children... Indeed, I wasn't even allowed to *dance*
in their presence, let alone *sing*...
I suppose one reason my relationship with them, wound up being so *strained,*
was that I was raised by my *grandparents,* more-or-less, until age 4-- At
that point, after having been labeled a boisterous, flambuoyant "tomboy,"
and being *happy,* being *accepted,* for so long...
I was suddenly *yanked* into a totally different environment, different rules,
different attitudes, all enforced with *much* punishment, and *little*
reward...
Suddenly, here were these other "siblings" I never knew I was supposed to
*have,* before, from my "new" father's previous marriage... They abused me.
One, in particular, sexually abused both *me,* and his younger
brother.
To top it all off, I was told lies, and forced to *abide* by them. Deep down,
I *knew* the truth. But, whenever I *expressed* it, I was severely... let's
just say, "punished." So, I was brainwashed. Told lies about who my biological
father was, who *I* was supposed to be, and what I should think of my
grandparents, even...
And... of *course*... There was the enforcement, of rigid "gender rules"...
I was not, generally speaking, permitted to speak, act, or *dress* in the
ways which were most "natural" for me-- And, for a long time, I *mostly*
abided by these rules... Having been repeatedly told by others, that *I*
did not matter, that *I* was wrong, that *my* mental impressions meant nothing--
in effect, that *I* did not exist-- I was *glad* to follow their
rules.
After all, I had been stripped of meaning and purpose, so what was left,
but to follow *their* ways?
And, then, of course... there were those feelings of guilt and taintedness,
that I didn't even know how to explain, to *myself*... Even after I explored
my "molestation issues," something *else* remained... I decided, for a time,
that it was better to "play along" with most others, than to risk opening
myself up, to finally *face* all the pain I knew lay within me...
This did not, of course, actually *negate* the truth of what I was-- I remember
behaving, in grade school, more like a "little gentleman," than a "little
lady"...
I seemed to attract girls, who acted like a crazed "fan club," catfighting
over me, and trying to steal "souvenirs" from me-- One of them, even embraced
me, and *refused* to let me go... She kept demanding, "Who do you like more,
her or *me*?" I panicked, and bit her. She made *much* of the bite, although
it didn't break the skin, and tried to use it, to blackmail me... However,
I have never been violent in this life-- A few shoves, when bullied. One
bite in self-defense. All this, occurred, in *childhood.* That's all.
But finally, when I hit my late teens, and *noticed
I was growing a beard,* it became obvious to me, that *something* was going
on-- Unlike *some* people who are supposed to be "women," I *resisted* my
mother's attempts to "defoliate" my face... At one point, in reference to
the baby-beard, I blurted out to her, "I don't know-- I kinda *like* it,
I *like* shaving..."
At which point, she threatened to throw me out of the car, if I didn't agree
to be taken to an endocrinologist, for female hormone pills...
So I went.
These pills, later contributed to a burgeoning "mystery illness" I suffered,
while attending college--
This physical illness began to seriously threaten my health, at around the
same time I met people in college, who were obviously into "magic," and general
esoterica-- They spoke of "vampire" motifs a lot... But, within the boundaries
of what I still thought of as my "consciousness," this meant *nothing* to
me... I thought it was all a joke, or a *hobby,* maybe, a game, perhaps some
*really* elaborate metaphor--
Unfortunately, they thought *I* was the joke, apparently... My Dionysian
consciousness, all my denied emotions and perceptions, were suddenly unwinding,
in ways I had been taught to suppress or *deny*...
Meanwhile, all these people who were vamps, and *knew* exactly what I was
going through, apparently didn't think enough of me, to simply *tell me what
was going on,* and *help me through it*... I remember, all but *crying* to
them, to *tell* me, just *tell* me what it was they were into... and why
I felt something similar, beginning to stir, within *me*...
However, I prefer to be *kind,* and think of it *this* way--
Perhaps, in their own ways, they felt even more "at sea," than I... And,
they simply didn't want to lead me into deeper waters, only to
drown.
To be sure, most of them, were not the kind of company I prefer to keep,
at this point in my life... So, they did me a favor, in a way. We let each
other go. Sometimes, that's the best gift to give someone, when trust fails,
and they refuse to be honest... So, thank you. We'll probably meet again
someday, under better circumstances. You'll see.
Not until I began to pursue more research, did I begin to understand, that
what I am, is a legitimate form of personal existence... The extreme
photosensitivity, was the last piece of the the puzzle-- I've since gotten
medical confirmation of, supposedly, both an exotic, inherited "connective
tissue disorder," *and* my particular form of intersexuality. So, *yes,*
I have "physical proof," to back my claims. And *medical* proof, as
well.
I was briefly affiliated with a certain man in San Francisco, who took me
as his "son," and *promised* to help me understand who/what I was, better...
However, he ran into some personal problems. After sending me a letter--
which turned out to be his *final* one-- hinting that he'd run into some
problems in his own life, he *vanished* from my private world. I tried,
sporadically, for 6 months to politely contact him, I prostrated myself before
*his* formal sire online--
Still, nothing. *Absolutely* nothing.
I *still* don't know what happened, *there,* and frankly, I no longer much
care... I know some people were giving his house problems. (For instance,
a certain webpage, was "attacked" via a virus.) I *do* worry about the man
and his house, but... Well, if I said I wasn't a tad *taken aback* by this
turn of events, I'd be lying. I've decided to interpret the lack of an answer,
as a *lack of interest* on their parts, until further notice.
Add this, to the fact that I allowed myself, to be foolishly led astray,
by some vamps and non-vamps, who claimed to be "seeking guidance," but wound
up defying, harming, and betraying me...
And well, you can see that I received a "wake-up call," so to
speak.
From now on, I intend to play the game, the way many of my forefathers have
played it-- For keeps.
Don't come to me, unless you are *sincere.* I don't deserve to have my heart
broken, in some "black widow tango," and neither do *you.*
The only thing I demand, is that you *show respect.* For me, *and* for
yourselves. Don't try having any "business dinners" with me. Don't try to
rob me of my reputation, my posessions, or my loved ones. Play the game with
*honor,* or not at all. Understood?
Great. Thank you.
I am currently redevoting my life to meditation, along with bardic and martial
arts. My family and I have reconciled, and my position in my local community,
is stronger than ever. I attend a church where I am known and loved (and
where, yes, they *know about my major life issues,* they *have,* for almost
2 years, now, so cut the crap about how my life is allegedly some evil, empty,
lying "pose")-- I give to charities, I nurse stray and wild animals, I avoid
even killing *insects,* I help the downtrodden...
Need I say more? We have to deal with what we're given. I've made my share
of mistakes-- But so have all of *you.*
So, let's stop brawling like petty, undereducated brats on a playground,
and start playing the *real* game, shall we? Good *night.*
"And now I see what the sea sees, when the sea sees me..."
-- Shade, *Shade the Changing Man,* Milligan, Bachalo, Phillips, *et al,*
Issue #22
The Doctor Is In!
E-mail to: