Strong Again

10/28/2025

We’re in October now, and writing’s been minimal.

Mostly I’ve been focused on getting healthy again. I took one long look at myself after Franzi told me she wasn’t in love with me anymore. That was the crack that made everything visible.
The decision to change physically was easy — it had been a long time coming.

---

I always fantasized about having a strong, sculpted male body — the kind that radiates health and presence. Back when I first got the green light for HRT in 2008, I promised myself I’d become that man. And for a while, I did. The testosterone kicked in, and for the first time I felt… grounded. My muscles full, my frame solid. But it never lasted.

The truth is, I was doing it alone. Only my ex, Senja, was there, and even that relationship was falling apart. Then came 2008 — the housing bubble, the crash, the quiet collapse of all the things I thought were solid. I’d done everything “right”: transitioned early, bought a house, had a decent job. Then it all imploded. The job went, my sanity with it, and the transition — all the layers of it — became too much.

That’s when I started running. From country to country, from my own body, from myself. And with the running, I lost reliable healthcare and the specialists who had helped me.
After a few steady years on HRT, I left again. Went abroad. Stopped treatment. I thought it wouldn’t matter — I was young, naive, and thought I could just power through. I couldn’t.

I see it now — the withdrawal, the imbalance, the crash. My mental health cratered, and my body carried the weight of it all. Chronic fatigue. Pain. Numbness. Years of it.

Then came this year — 2025 — and my body just… gave in. Tired, weak, fogged over. No drive left. No fire.
That’s when I started writing again. When I stopped waiting for the world to end and started rebuilding my own instead.

It’s been slow, hard, and painful. I nearly gave up — more than once. But I didn’t.

I didn’t get my dream job, I didn’t leave Bulgaria, and I’m not rich — not even close.
But I did find stability again. I started training, working, writing. Got back on HRT. And with that, something shifted. My life started to feel bright again.

I feel strong now — steady, tethered, clear. I no longer chase prophecy or conspiracy. Not because I don’t believe in something greater, but because I spent twenty-five years chasing it instead of building me.

Now my days are simple: lifting, working, walking the dogs, cooking, writing.
Consistency — not motivation. Discipline — not mood.

I’ve let my old self go.
And I finally stand in the man I always was.

Maybe healing isn’t about becoming new at all.
Maybe it’s just remembering who was there under all the noise, waiting to be seen again.

Thanks for stopping by and reading.

— Alex
Threadwalker