*Insert Witty Title*

I’m sorry that I’m getting to this so late, I don’t spend a ton of time here anymore and *just* saw this notice in my email.

My last order was from about a year ago and I paid for the expedited shipping.

I will say that in my previous experience, they can often be incredibly delayed. Their FAQs used to say something about it taking 30 business days from order, but now there’s an indication that it could be up to 120 business days during this time of year, and that orders will be refunded if not fulfilled within 6 months.

If you’re concerned about this, you might be able to work with your bank/PayPal/however you paid for it.

I just bought my second FreeTom 4-in-1 Rogue (5.5”, Caucasian) and I’m going to a) review my experience so far and b) compare it to the older generation model.

As a warning, I do know that FreeTom is going through some Shit. I will say that my experience was overwhelmingly positive, but I also recognize that doesn’t change what some people are experiencing. I still wholeheartedly recommend them, but I would just advise you to use your best judgement.

Also, I have been wearing the prosthetic, but I did make sure it had been thoroughly cleaned and soaked for these photos, so anything you see on it is lint that it picked up from the bathroom/towels/etc.

I paid $43.74 total, which was inclusive of priority shipping for Valentine’s Day. I got very lucky that FreeTom was having a $99 sale *and* I had a 70% off coupon, otherwise I wouldn’t have purchased it when I did. I would have preferred the Blush or Tan color, but the Caucasian that was all that was still available. I am generally happy with the color, but it wouldn’t have been my first choice at full price. In terms of shipping, I ordered mine last Wednesday night (2/5), it shipped out on Monday (2/10) and it came just over a week later on this past Friday (2/14). It shipped reasonably discreet, but it does say FreeTom/FreeTom Warehouse on it, so someone could easily Google what that is.

The two things I noticed immediately is a) it’s much easier to pack with and b) I’m incredibly pleased with the funnel redesign.

I also like the extra silicone on the top and bottom, it makes it easier to position where it should sit, and it’s greatly improved my success with the STP function.

The pleasure slide design is different and I would suspect lines up with my anatomy a little better than the old design, but I don’t have much else to say on that.

I have successfully used to STP function twice, and I can tell that I’m going to be able to successfully use the urinal in another few days. With the old model, I also felt like I had to restrain myself to avoid any backflow, but so far I’m finding I can conduct business as usual. The one suggestion I would have is to squeeze the head when using the STP though, because it does dramatically improve the flow.

With regards to packing, I have been using it without a harness and have had no issues, but I have invested in a harness, because I don’t think I could use the STP at a urinal without that. I recently bought the New York Toy Collective harness, which should be arriving in a few days. I’ll update once I have it.

The erection rod is almost the exact same from the previous model, I just found it was a little bit quieter than the rod in my first prosthetic.

If you’ve followed along with any previous reviews, you’ll know my issue is always with the testicles. I can finally say, the testicles on this model get a B+.

I do wish they were a little more detailed, or that they had free floating testicles like some of the other model prosthetics I’ve seen, but I like the fact that an attempt has been made to have two balls and they have more definition.

Now for some side-by-side comparisons on the old Rogue vs. new Rogue. (The old one is also clean, it just lives in my sock drawer and doesn’t see the light of day much anymore).

In my previous review I had compared my Mr. Limpy, which I haven’t owned in several years. I also won an @ftmprosthetics packer a few years ago which, unfortunately, finally fell apart after 5 years, so I can only compare the FreeTom to itself.

Due to the size of the old FreeTom, I actually stopped packing unless I felt it was absolutely necessary for my dysphoria (in the gym, in some of my dress pants, swimming, etc.), but I was otherwise unhapy with how uncomfortable it was to pack with. The excess silicone in the funnel often made me feel self conscious that things were shifting too much. I didn’t even feel like I had a boner, I just felt disconnected from my prosthetic. It’s only been about a day with this one and it already feels like it’s always been here. I hadn’t been one to pack in my sleep in a long time, but now it just feels natural that it’s there.

That being said, the thing that I’m struggling with most now is envy. I’m not talking about the envy I that comes early in transition. I think it’s really easy to play the comparison game, but I liken that sort of thing to the envy you see in pubescent teenage boys. Eventually everyone winds up in almost the same place, more or less.

All of the things that I feel like I’m missing now don’t feel like they’re going to come with time.

I also feel silly being envious, because I know there are people out there who are envious of me. I am grateful that I was able to get top surgery 5 years ago, and I was able to get surgery 2 years into my physical transition. I know that not everyone is as fortunate as I wound up being.

Sure, it was through absolutely no help from my insurance, but with a definite assist from parents who understood that I could never move on with my life without surgery. I wasn’t going to be able to get a job that I could function in, because only my dead end retail job was willing to give me 6 weeks off (and reneged a little on their offer and made me come back at 5). I know that not everyone has that experience and I would never be want it to sound like I was discrediting how fortunate I’ve been.

I am struggling now and seeing people who started their transition around the same time I did (or earlier), but they’re in final surgery stages, or at least it’s something on the horizon. I have no clue when lower surgery is going to be on the docket. My insurance doesn’t cover it, or if it does, I can’t make heads or tails of the paperwork and I don’t have the mental capacity yet for another big “no” in my life. I also don’t have another $10,000 lying around and I certainly can’t take any extended time off of work for at least the next year even if I found some miraculous way to save up money.

Plus, even if I made $10,000, I would immediately give it to my best friend. Hands down, no questions asked. I would give anything to be able to help him pay for his surgery. That’s my priority right now, because I’ll never be able to enjoy a further surgical stage until my best friend can get some semblance of comfort in his life.

Sorry for the delay on this, I’m not lurking here are frequently as I used to.

65 days ago I had to spend the night in the emergency room because I was on the brink of taking my own life.

46 days ago I was put on an antidepressant to help me quiet the suicidal impulses in my brain.

41 days ago I started a new diet on the recommendation that we throw everything we could at my mental illness.

This is the happiest and healthiest I’ve felt in years, and I would argue I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this way in my adult life.

I have a med consult on Tuesday and I’ll be meeting with my therapist again on the 9th. I have homework from this week’s appointment, which I still need to work on, but I do think what I’m experiencing either is or is incredibly similar to Suicidal OCD.

It’s legitimately overwhelming how much people care. While this episode was in no way spawned out of thinking people didn’t care or love me, it’s incredibly overwhelming just how much support has flooded in to help me get through this.

I met with a counselor from emergency services yesterday to discuss some of what I’m feeling and what got me where I was. For some background, my maternal grandfather was diagnosed with 4th stage pancreatic cancer right around July 2018 and he passed away on Christmas. My Grampy was one of those amazing pillars in my life and the world is less without him. In talking through some of it yesterday, one of the the conclusions is that grief coupled with seasonal depression/my regular garden variety depression sent my brain into a tailspin and eventual nosedive that I couldn’t pull myself out of. This is all to say that we are working on equally healing my brain as we are my heart.

Understandably so, but I’ve lost a lot of autonomy. My best friend went back to work today, and another one of my friends is coming over around lunch to keep me company. I know no one is necessarily trying to take away my ability to do things alone, but I’m aware that I can’t necessarily be trusted alone. Thankfully, I don’t live alone, my best friend does double as my roommate, which I’m aware is one of the only reason I got to go home in the first place.

We are attempting to have me go back to work tomorrow, because I have a super structured day scheduled and my mum is off around midday and could pick me up if I can only manage a half day. Thankfully, work is incredibly understanding and both my boss and my HR are committed to me getting better (and they’re really the only ones who know the extent of what has happened, my coworkers currently just believe I have the flu).

I have another appointment next week to meet with another emergency services counselor and I have an appointment in 2 weeks for a med consult. I have an appointment at the end of April with the sister clinic, the first outside of the emergency care unit - which my mum has just offered to take me to via text moments ago.

Basic tasks have become a little difficult, which I was told is a reaction to my brain coping with trauma. For the time being I’ve been told to keep things simple. We bought me a whole heap of clean clothes, a handful of easy or ready-to-eat meals, and there are very specific notes as reminder of things I need to do today and throughout the week (take trash out, do dishes, shower, etc.) The only task that hasn’t been difficult is caring for the kitten, because he’s what I put down as my reason for staying alive.

We threw away all of the alcohol in our fridge, barring the large bottles that we store out of general view, because they want me to avoid depressants. I don’t consider myself a heavy drinker anymore, but we still threw away a whole trash bag of beer, nips, and moonshine, so that has to say something about how I was coping.

Exhaustion is still a pretty constant feature and I get tired easily.

I spent a few hours in the ER before the very understanding social worker convinced the psychiatrist on duty that I could be discharged into the care of my friends with a safety plan and the promise to return on Monday for the first of what will likely be a series of outpatient appointments.

It hasn’t quite been 48 hours since I was discharged, but here are some of the thoughts cycling in my head:

- I am completely and utterly exhausted, I napped most of today and yesterday. Prior to this I can’t remember the last time I had a restful sleep.

- I’ve been told not to feel guilty, but I still feel a little guilty for putting everyone through this ordeal.

- I’d love to say there was one concrete trigger, because that’s how fiction portrays it, but really it was the culmination of a bunch of little things adding up. This is to say that my abject hopelessness took me just as much by surprise as it has my loved ones. I didn’t know it was happening until it was happening and that understably terrifying for everyone involved.

- I attempted to reach out to the suicide chatline, because I didn’t have the courage to call. There were 40 people ahead of me when I first attempted and 9 ahead of me when my friends convinced me to get into the car over an hour later. The ER has given me a local hotline and my best friend has found a text resource that has a more immediate response time. I’m not blaming anyone, but instead I want to encourage people to seek out more than one emergency resource, because everything I’d learned wasn’t about to help me in the 11th hour.

- I’m largely taking a break from social media, because I didn’t realize the impact that the fatalistic “I want to die” millennial humor was having on my mental health. It turns out it immediately becomes completely unfunny the very moment it becomes a painful reality.

- We have started to use a 1-10 scale to talk about current mood. I started Thursday at a 3 and wound up at a .5. I hover between a 4-6, with right now sitting at about a 5.

- I am incredibly lucky to have the support system I do, and I’m not quite sure what I’ve done to deserve them.

My apartment is within a short walk of a budget grocery store in the city. We don’t stop there for the majority of the things we buy, but sometimes I’ll pop over for random things we need/to see whatever random thing has wound up in their inventory for the week.

I made the mistake of up and disappearing, but in my defense I’ve had my hands full for a little bit.