Selection of Uncategorized Observations while Undergoing HRT/D

As my testosterone levels have decreased, & my estrogen levels have increased, the average temp of my showers has risen exponentially. 

SALT: I crave nothing* as much as salt. I need it. I essentially plan my day around when I’m gonna get my next hit of that deliciousness goodness. I’m talking eating a medium/large jar of pickles in one sitting then drinking the brine. For a brief rapturous moment I am bliss, a harmony of bliss, salt, & raging hormones. 

Both my endocrinologist & the Literature tell me that there will likely be a shift in my libido, as in it should diminish overtime. (There is so much wrong with that sentiment which is outside of the constraints of these observations) However there has been a shift . . . Which can be best described as: Inside of me there are two wolves & both of them want to !{ — Å_Ω_Å — }! /∞settoyou,youbackthere,youover there, your friend & their friend over there. 

My nails have gotten thicker, my hairline is advancing, & cheekbones have gotten sharper, naturally I’m reading up on werewolf folklore. 

My skin demands lotion with the fury & charisma of an insatiable Eldrich deity. 

I am, frustratingly so, reevaluating my relationship with socks as I have now shifted to being predominately an endothermic creature. 

I was informed by my endocrinologist that my “emotional capacity” will increase. I’ve cried at least once this past week because I was thinking about babies. I do not want more children, and I do not particularly like children, yet there I was having a ten minute power cry, then I got on with my day. 

My chest has become a highly calibrated scientific instrument(s), much like LIGO, I too can detect gravitational waves. 

HEAT: my hormones, like a star evolving from Main Sequence, erratic, unpredictable, prone to devouring planets & companion stars, teetering near the Chandrasekhar limit. Heat, new heat, different heat, deeper heat. (Interpret as you wish)
HONED & FERAL HEAT: I am a contradiction of Zen-like self-control &, you know that part at the beginning of Jurassic Park the movie with the raptor, yeah like that. 

One of the initial changes that occurred, within the first week, was smell. Not my sense of smell but my scent. Hormones influence our sweat, sweat influences much more than scent, essentially we can smell each other’s genetic compatibility & we make a myriad of decisions based on how someone smells. So basically I smell like a completely different person, a stranger to myself, & living alone when you smell someone who you don’t recognize it’s bizarre to say the least. 

There is a nebulous region of space between chest & breast. A social/physical/metaphysical space. I have a fondness for nomenclature so defining this is important. The criterion is simple “would IG take down a photo of me if I were topless” 

If “yes” then “tiddy” 

If “no” then “chest” (Laugh/cry/laugh again at that) 

The answer is “yes” IG would indeed take down said photo of me. 

The sensitivity calibration of my “yes” = tiddy has changed scale from LIGO to neutrino detection & angrier. ;) 

—Joule Aisling Nathanael