Power Fluctuations
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Power Fluctuations - Lisa's Story free porn video
Power Fluctuations ? Lisa?s Story
By Jerrie526
Warning: This story somewhat puts out the feelings and sometimes
occurrences that happen to Transgendered people in a crisis of body.
Suicide is that occurrence. This story uses that line and could be
traumatic.
Jerrie
* * * * * * * * * *
I was told to do this thing to help me try to adjust to my new body. But I
hate the thought of even thinking about it. I will start by introducing myself.
My name is Lisa Canby and I am twenty years old. I know I don?t look it
but I really am. I certainly am not proud of the fact that I am no longer the
actual age that I mentioned to you. You see, I used to be a woman and now
I am a forty-two year old man. I have been wishing that I had never set foot
into the yard that I did with my boyfriend that fateful January morning.
I cannot help how I feel about being in this lousy body. It is out of shape
and I had to smoke because the jerk who had it before me had addicted it to
cigarettes, which I despise. I have had to go through a quit smoking plan to
get rid of the habit. It has been long and hard to do. I have been dealing
with the weight gain and the hunger that gnaws at me until I have to
indulge it. I get so depressed that all I can do is cry. I hate this so much.
The doctors have told me that I qualify to have a sex change because I
really am a woman trapped in a man?s body. I don?t want to change it into
A fake woman?s body; I just want to have my body back. I know I will not
and it depresses me even further. My doctors tell me that for my peace of
mind that it would be best if I go ahead with the transition and at least try
to be comfortable.
I have seen my old body several times since the swap and all I can do is cry
over my loss. It is so hard to see someone else wearing it. I know she is a
good person inside but I cannot stand to see her. It is just a reminder of what
I have lost and depresses me further than I have ever been in my life.
I have been trying to get my family to come and visit me but it seems like
they have disowned me for no reason of mine. My sisters have refused to
even talk to me. My parents no longer claim me as their daughter, but that
is because I am no longer their daughter. But they certainly don?t see me as
their son either since I am now older than my mother but a year younger
than my father.
The doctors tried to get me to see a therapist but it was hard to talk to her at
all. She could not understand what I have gone through and because of that,
I could not get my points across to her. Because of that, I gave up without
any major effort on my part.
I was at least getting visits from a few of the others involved in the accident
and some of them I cannot stand to be around. I had a visit once from
Michael, who is now going by the name of Michelle now that she has had
the baby. I found that she is a self centered and shallow individual who
seems to act like she is the only person that was hurt in this thing. She
complained all the time about the pain she had to endure when she had the
baby and how hard it was to be a woman and that sort of garbage. I finally
had to tell her off and when I did, she took it as an affront to her sensitivity
and left. If she cannot see how much of a bitch she is, I would hate to see
what would happen if she was told that by someone.
I was finally able to see my boyfriend Keith after a couple of months of his
ignoring me. He was several years older than he had been before the
accident but he broke up with me because in his words, ?I am not gay and no
longer am attracted to you.? Just more fuel to the fire that is burning me up
inside.
I started having a difficult time sleeping because of my inner turmoil. I had
been prescribed some sleeping pills by my doctors to help me go to sleep
easier. My nights were disturbed by flashes of eroticism that bothered me to
no end. At the least expected moment, I would awaken with a raging
erection that was more disturbing than the dreams. I cannot describe how
much I hate that horrible piece of flesh that is now hanging between my
legs. The very first time I felt it after I woke enough to be aware of myself,
I became totally hysterical and had to be sedated. Any more, I have been
tempted to whack it off with a knife or something sharp so that I will not
have to deal with it. Urinating is a lesson in futility. I refuse to touch that
*THING * at all. It makes me so sick to think about it being ATTACHED
to me!
At the advise of some of my friends from when I had my old body, I even
went as far as wearing women?s clothes again. When I was able to get a
look in the mirror for the first time after my friends had completed their
work on me, I went ballistic. I had never looked so ridiculous in my life. I
ripped every shred of clothes off my body and collapsed into a heap of
tears.
By this time, I had been struggling for nearly a year. How time flies when
you are not having fun. My nightmares have been growing worse each
night and it is so hard on me not being able to sleep. I have been taking
several of the sleeping pills each night to be able to sleep the night through
and it does me no good. I awake at the same time screaming hoarsely from
the images that disturbed my sleep.
I had to go give my testimony for the lawsuit finally and at least the jury
was able to hear about my situation completely and were sympathetic to
me. Each one of us were granted a large sum of money for our suffering.
At the end of the trial, we were all handed an individual envelope telling us
not to disclose to anyone what we had received. I had a check for
$40,000,000.00, not that it was going to do me any good. I was in no mood
to spend it at all.
The letter that was enclosed stated that the company that caused this felt
that I was the one that was suffering the most and therefore, I received the
largest sum of money. It did not say how much the others received but that
they were all compensated for their amount of suffering. I wondered how
much ?Jackie? was actually suffering. She looked like she was having the
time of her life when I saw her during the trial. As hard as I tried to get the
image out of my mind, I could not. I had seen her talking to some other
women in the lounge set up in the courthouse and she was laughing and
having a good time. She totally ignored me as if I were not there at all.
It was during that time that I decided that I was no longer going to deal
with this body. My will to live has drained from me gradually day by day.
Now, I no longer have anything to live for. I had several months ago taken
to drinking in trying to drown out my sorrows but it never really helped me
at all. All I did was wake up hung over and feeling sick. I went to the
pharmacy to renew my prescription for the sleeping pills and stopped by the
liquor store to pick up the strongest bottle of whiskey I could find.
That night, I downed every one of the pills that I had picked up that day. I
even emptied the bottle of whiskey. I was totally drunk before the pills
started kicking in and I passed out quickly.
Much to my surprise and disgust, I woke up in the hospital again with tubes
running out of every orifice in my body. My hands were strapped to the bed
and I could not move them. As I became more aware of my surroundings, I
started thrashing my body. The nurse that was stationed there got on the
phone and made a call. I was soon surrounded by doctors that were basically
clucking their tongues at me for my actions.
I was told that if it had not been for the original occupant of my body
finding me, I would have been dead. I could not talk with the tube in my
throat and they relented and removed it so that I could talk. I was so angry
about failing to kill myself that I berated every one of those assholes for
letting me live so that I could continue to suffer.
Over the next several weeks, I had to put up with visits from shrinks that
were trying to get me to realize that I did not want to kill myself and that I
had a will to survive that would kick in soon. My will to survive had gave
up the ghost a long time ago. I tried to tell them that many times but is was
all to naught with my efforts.
A couple of days after I awoke, I was surrounded by the others in the group
but the minute I laid eyes on Jackie, I went berserk. The bitch had no right
to come waltzing into my room and life like that and all I could do was
scream obscenities at her until she left the room. I hoped that she was
crying like the little girl she was! I have never hated anyone in my life like
I hated her. Little Miss Bitch! The doctors came back in and shooed every
one out of the room and gave me an injection to calm me down.
The shrinks came back in the room and started asking me all sorts of
questions, of which, I answered none of them. I stayed silent and refused to
talk to any of them.
I was in the hospital for three more months this time and the majority of it
was spent strapped to the bed. I was given some time up each day to move
around so that the muscles did not atrophy on me but I did not care about
that.
In the time before they released me, they started giving me several anti-
depressants that seemed to take me out of my most serious blue funk but it
made me a zombie that could not think about anything independent. When
I was released, I was taken to the home that was Steve and Karen Mitchell?s
house and put up in their guest bedroom. They were the ones that I had the
least reaction over so they were elected to watch over me. They made sure
that I took my pills on time and made sure that I took them.
I hated being treating like an invalid all the time. Stephanie made sure that
I ate and did not lose any more weight than I had already lost. Not that it
mattered to me anyway. My body was going on automatic pilot as it was. It
ate whether or not I wanted to.
One day, Stephanie was a little bit careless and did not watch me closely
when it came time to give me the prescribed medication. I carefully hid the
pills in my mouth and spit them out when she turned her back. I quickly
disposed of them when I had the chance. I kept the stupefied act up so that
they would not catch on until too late. Once my thoughts were clear, I
started making up my plans for getting out of this situation. I caught my
journal up to date which brings me to this point.
I have used this message as a way to clear my mind and make it up as to
what I am going to do with my life. It has set me straight on what I need to
do and I have set my mind to it. I have tried so hard to live as a man and I
have found it impossible. I was not born to be a man and I am going to
make sure that the future does not hold that prospect for me. I had received
the majority of Steve Mitchell?s possessions after I originally left the
hospital and while going through them one day, I found a hidden
compartment in one of his cases that contained a pistol that was loaded. My
last attempt to kill myself did not go over well because I took a woman?s
way out without pain by taking sleeping pills. Up until now, I have been
afraid to use it and now the fear is gone. This time I have to do it the man?s
way and end it with violence. Let this be my last words while I say that I am
sorry that I have to do this. Good bye to my family and I am sorry for the
pain I am going to cause them. I just cannot take this any more and I must
end it now.
* * * * * * * *
Excerpt from the Big River Times, Big River, CO:
It was announced today that one of the twelve famous body swappers was
found dead from an apparent self inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Lisa
Canby had left a journal that detailed her/his feelings since the swap that
left her in the body of a man more than twice her age. Lisa had been
dealing with severe depression for the last year and a half and had
previously tried to kill herself/himself but was found before he/she actually
died. Her second attempt was successful. Funeral services for Ms/Mr.
Canby will be held on Wednesday after a coroner?s inquest is held. She
was 20 going on 43 at the time of her death.
Dottie
- 04.02.2022
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