#thumbdick

I used to have a dream every now and then that I had the body parts downstairs that I want to have. I would be doing whatever random task in some dream, then suddenly I’d look down and realize that I’m holding “my junk” in my hand. And I would feel a sense of relief. The dream was recurring, so basically the same thing would happen every time. I’d be doing something not even remotely related to sex or penises then become spontaneously aware that my penis existed and I would be holding it. That’s weird, but dreams are weird, and I’m keeping it real.

It always had the same feel though in every dream. The way the body part felt was oddly consistent, but I wasn’t sure why. Then one day, I was fidgeting with my hands and I grabbed my right thumb with my left hand. Clasped my fingers right around it, like holding a tube.

Then I went, “Oh.”

In my sleep, I had been unconsciously grabbing my thumb. That’s why it felt like that. In each of those dreams, my left hand found its way to my right thumb and must have gone, “We found the missing piece!” I’m not a sleep expert, but I know that for most of sleep, our brain intentionally paralyzes our body, so I’m curious as to how my hands situated themselves in this way. And bonus question: how did this position find its way into my dreams, not once but multiple times?

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about bottom surgery for a while, and I can’t keep the thoughts down anymore. I have a therapist to discuss with, but that is just one person. I could use more perspective and sanity checking. In the same vein, there are a ton of secondary things around bottom surgery worth discussing, like relationships, body image, and how to balance patient goal setting with frustration. I’m not even sure I want to go through with bottom surgery. I’ve had a tough time even figuring out how to have a basic relationship, sex aside. The bottom surgery topic adds 5 quantum dimensions of fuckery on top of it. I also have the worst self esteem you ever did see, which has made any hopeful relationships implode in an embarrassing fashion. More on that later.

That’s my shtick. I got 99 problems and oh my god I have no idea what to do. You know how lion tamers wave 4-legged stools in lions’ faces to get them to sit and not move? That’s me. There are problems in every direction and I’m stuck. All efforts to find a direction or solution have so far failed (or they’ve been so slow that I probably won’t figure out “what I truly want” until I’m 80 years old). So here is my blog and here are my thoughts.