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woman with dark hair dressed in a hospital smock, looked at her notes. Her eyes darted around the circle and then landed on me. I could see what she was thinking from the look on her face and the light in her eyes.
    Jim sauntered in and took the last seat. The hush was immediate. Everyone stopped what they were saying. The effect was that of a light switch. Lightness then bleak darkness. Still, most everyone conveyed in their facial expression that spirits were holding up.
    “Let’s get started,” the moderator said. “First of all, I’d like to introduce you to Cindi Jones our newest member. Cindi, what we do is discuss our problems. Each of you will take a turn to briefly explain your problem and the issues you are dealing with. We will then go around the group to give everyone a chance to offer their advice, opinions, or whatever. Cindi, for the benefit of others I would like you to give us a brief background so that we can understand you better. However, I will not call on you first. We’ll have a couple other members start off our session so you can see how we do things. Okay, who will be first?” No one volunteered.
    “Jane,” the moderator said as she faced the one of the women who I had not met, “would you please start our session?”
    “Okay” Jane replied. Jane went on to briefly explain that she had been in therapy there for 5 days now. That was 5 days that she had been clean. She explained the terrible anguish she was experiencing as the drugs left her body. Once she said her piece, we went around the circle and each offered a brief response or opinion.
    The happy mood was spoiled as each member uttered some bland opinion or response. It was easy to see what was going on here. We were going through the motions. No one was really participating. Now I understood what Jim had told me the night before. The moderator looked at me and asked if I would like to contribute something.
    “Yes, I would like to.”
    “Jane,” I started, “I don’t know you. I can’t fathom what you are going through. I have no idea what it is like to come down off drugs. I do know however that there are people in the world who love you. I hope that I can get to know and love you too. From the bottom of my heart I want to offer you my support. I know that I cannot help you with your problem. But I will be your friend.”
    Jane lifted her chin and turned her head to face me. Her mouth was partially open and her eyes filled with tears . “Thank you Cindi,” she replied as she turned and looked for something to dry her eyes. She quickly received a Kleenex passed to her from the moderator and she wiped her eyes and then the rest of her face. I had not noticed the quivering of her lips and the perspiration on her face. But now it was undeniably clear. She was shaking and shivering with the DT’s.
    After two people had shared their stories, the moderator turned to me. “Would you like to go next Cindi?” she queried.
    “Well, I’m going to have to do this sooner or later,” I answered. “I am here on suicide watch,” I started. “But my real problem is in all likelihood the strangest thing that you will encounter in your lifetimes. Before I tell you these details, please know that I am a real person just like everyone else here. My problem is mine to deal with but I can assure you that is just as difficult to deal with as those that you face.” I went on to briefly describe that the classification for my mental problem was gender dysphoria. “It is more commonly known as transsexualism.”
    The shock wave hit the room. The mood clearly changed. One woman shifted in her seat to face the moderator. Andrea sunk her face into her hands as she bent over. Jim smiled at me. I further explained how the events of the weekend had unfolded. How I had been beat down and conquered. How I had my hair cut. How I had met with my ex to strike a deal to see my children. How I had gone to work dressed as a man. Jim’s facial expression