Sleeping pills are great. They stop you waking up at one in the morning. If you take two of them you wake up at about seven but spend the rest of the morning spaced out like Dylan the rabbit. If you take only one of them you're not spaced out but you are awarded an extra couple of hours in the day as your wake-up time shifts to five o'clock. If you forget to take any pills, you go back to waking at one in the morning.
After a couple of weeks of this sleep-but-not-sleep the complete exhaustion has gone but with it has gone my brain. This is not good, people pay me money so I can use my brain for them. I need to lose the pills, the insomnia and the gender fog that's rushed into the vacuum where my brain used to be. Then I can return to the exciting job of making data dance for people rather than confusedly sitting here making it twitch uncontrollably before the people who pay for my brain notice anything.
So I've booked another gap in my unfortunate doctor's busy life towards the end of the week. Having had a Long Chat in abstract terms with a motorcyclist friend who's also a hospital consultant about How To Approach Things With Your Doctor(though I think she may have guessed my problem but was far too nice to pry) , I am going to have another go at asking him for help that doesn't involve a path to transition. Back when I was talking to the same practice about depression I had counsellors and therapists being waved at me from all directions, albeit with waiting lists attached, so this time I think they can do better.