Three Nights and no Hot Flushes

I slept really well last night, no hot flushes, but I have woken up tired. Perhaps the fatigue I’m feeling isn’t down to poor sleep.

I had two dreams that I remember. The first I was living with my dad. We’d fallen out and I was angry and telling him to “fuck right off”. I have a real problem expressing anger with my dad and will avoid it if I possibly can. Eventually, he threw me out and I spent the rest of the dream trying to find a suitcase.

The other dream was a sci-fi epic! There were these terrorist types (they might have been humanoid aliens) who were trying to kill people using these little bugs (which were milky and about the size of your fingernail). They hid the bugs in devices which would explode and cover their victim in these bugs, which would stretch the skin and cause agony before the person died. We (I don’t know who “we” are) had one aerosol spray that we could use to kill the bugs. The third person who was caught by these traps we couldn’t get to in time and they died screaming. Some of the bugs escaped before we could kill them.

Later we captured one of these alien terrorists; this terrorist/alien looked like a child but with horrible teeth. They wanted me to open a packet of cold bacon. I was suspicious, so I picked the bacon up but accidentally dropped it and for a brief moment the bacon turned into these creatures. I knew that it was a trap! I went to put it in the microwave but one of the bugs escaped before I could. I didn’t think anything of it until later. The microwave killed the bugs in the package.

Then I was with the King and Queen. They were sat on a bench. The King wanted some bacon. Then he fell off the bench and I helped him back on. He then pointed to a packet of bacon on the floor, like the last one, so I microwaved that one too. Hurrah! I’d saved the King!

Then it started to rain, except it wasn’t rain, it was these bugs covering people. There was a lot of screaming as I covered my head and realised that I’d failed and that we were all going to die by these milky bugs.

What do you think of that?!

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First Run

I’ve just finished my first run in nine weeks. Seven weeks and six days since I was castrated. I only managed a quarter of my usual distance; my legs felt weak and I felt faint. I can’t know how much of the performance drop is due to not training for such a long time and how much is down to low testosterone; my hunch would be about 50:50. The question is, can I recover the distance without testosterone? I’d rather not perform that particular experiment, but if I don’t get my hormones sorted, I might as well approach this particular challenge with curiosity.

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¡Hablo español!

¡Estoy en mi centésimo día de aprender español! ¡Aquí está mi próximo cien!

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Talking, Inadequacy, and Sharing

I had a good talk with my husband about something that came up during our conversations earlier in the week; before I had the operation, I sent him photos of castrated guys with erections to try to reassure him that I would still be able to get hard and cum after castration. He said that he felt that the pictures were “coercive”. I said that I didn’t think that the word coercive was quite right because there was no threat involved, however I understood that they were sent to him with an intention to persuade and that I had an agenda. I also realised, from things he’d said since, that they also made him feel inadequate: these were big erections on skinny guys with no balls – they looked friggin’ mahoosive! My husband has always had an insecurity about his size (he needn’t have any fears there, but you feel what you feel), and seeing these enormous cocks made those feelings most acute.

We talked a bit about how he felt when he first saw my cock without it’s companions. He was shocked. These days my penis is always the same length when flaccid, it doesn’t shrink and grow with the temperature of the air around it. Without balls behind it, it always looks bigger than it would otherwise have looked. That also triggered feelings of inadequacy in him, which reassurance alone cannot combat.

There are historical reasons, which I’m not going to record here, why this is such an issue for my husband, however I can now recognise these issues and the validity of his feelings, offering the support of a loving ear, rather than empty knee-jerk responses.

We talked a little more about what opening the relationship might look like; my husband may have some opportunities coming up. I am encouraging him to take them, if he feels able to: I feel excited and afraid of what they might mean for us. However, I am not going to let my fears control me (or him) any more: despite being without, I am way ballsier now than before I was cut!

I also said that since tomorrow was my eighth week, that I would like to share some photos with the Dog House Discord server (there is a strict rule with the Dog House that anything shared not be downloaded and should not be shared outside of that server). I’ve had a lot of fun and support in that community and I would like to pay that back by demonstrating the results of surgery and promoting safe transitions. I’ve suggested that he think about it over night. So far we have agreed one rule: no erections. This is fine, as the purpose of the share is to inform and educate, not to entertain.

Final note: Happy Easter!