So I went to see the psychiatrist at Visby Lasarett today, and we discussed getting me back into DBT and establishing contact with transsexual unit in Stockholm. I told her it would be better than keep going to Uppsala, because I don't like the "team" there and it's easier to travel back and forth to Stockholm. She altered my meds a bit, but nothing major and told me to try and not self injure until our next visit. I said that isn't likely to happen.
It's been raining all day, making me feel smaller and more shrivelled up than usual. Getting back home my chest sill hurts hours after removing my binder. That pain lasts for a few days up to a week now. Good thing I don't get out that much, considering there's no way I'll go out without wearing the binder. Though it's just that it's not good staying in doors all the bloody time either.
Nothing's right. Nothing. Everything I do, somehow ends up being wrong. I eat it's either too much or too little - I sleep, then I sleep too much or can't sleep at all - I'm going out, then it totally drains me and my binder hurts me for days - I'm told to think, but all I can think of is all this pain I feel... and going to the psychiatrist only made me feel I'm going back there, to the one kind of people that hurt me most. And I just wanna runaway far, far from here and just vanish from the face of earth. This, this place is Hell. Whatever is out there, beyond this life and my death, it just has to be better.
I fantasize, and dream about my death much more now. I wanna know how it would feel to fall off a cliff, or a high building. Or to shoot myself in the heart, and how it would feel when my heart stops beating. Taking that last breath. Hoping, thinking that me and Anna will be separated, freed from this prison of a body. How it would feel, to actually be free from it. Not having to feel pain when I breathe, the disgust when I eat, the constant pain in my head, the shame hatred and sorrow when I compare this body with others. That I'm so inadequate, insufficient, helpless, useless.
I'm breaking down, shutting down. My flame is burning out, left is only ashes and dust. If I don't give up now, how much more damaged will I get? I don't wanna know, I don't wanna find that out. This life, it's all for nothing.
Thursday, 27 September 2012
Monday, 24 September 2012
Reflections (poem)
The words, frozen on my lips
reaches out to my fingertips
the pale light on my face
opens windows to another place
Silent screams linger here
deep in the walls and the atmosphere
lost dreams underneath somehow
should be protected but damaged now
As time passes with every foot step
shallow in its own sense of depth
the mirror shows the reflections
of our own misconceptions
Lost with seasons that will never change
they're out of reach and out of range
the deception of our emptiness
so consumed by our loneliness
reaches out to my fingertips
the pale light on my face
opens windows to another place
Silent screams linger here
deep in the walls and the atmosphere
lost dreams underneath somehow
should be protected but damaged now
As time passes with every foot step
shallow in its own sense of depth
the mirror shows the reflections
of our own misconceptions
Lost with seasons that will never change
they're out of reach and out of range
the deception of our emptiness
so consumed by our loneliness
Feeling a little better
I guess I'm feeling a bit better than the last week, cause I've been less suicidal. But I've also been very passive aggressive and silent. I don't wanna talk about my shit with my family, hiding what I feel and think, hiding the fact that I've started with self injury again. I don't want them worried or trying to help me. It's not the kind of help I want.
I've taken up knitting again, a scarf in different green shades. Started it last autumn thinking it'd be done til that winter. But as long as I keep on knitting now it will be done before this winter. At least that's something. And thinking of knitting more arm warmers, and sew a pair as well. Thinking a nice brocade, silky material in black or dark, blood red and sewing it in a elvish, goth style possibly with laces to get it off/on. Think it would look good with a black shirt, or something.
And I might start in a Russian beginners class on Wednesday this week! That would be awesome. My mom is starting in an Arabian beginners class tomorrow also. And then I have my first meeting with the psychiatry on Gotland this Thursday. Finally! I hope it goes well.
Well, that's it for now. Take care and so on.
I've taken up knitting again, a scarf in different green shades. Started it last autumn thinking it'd be done til that winter. But as long as I keep on knitting now it will be done before this winter. At least that's something. And thinking of knitting more arm warmers, and sew a pair as well. Thinking a nice brocade, silky material in black or dark, blood red and sewing it in a elvish, goth style possibly with laces to get it off/on. Think it would look good with a black shirt, or something.
And I might start in a Russian beginners class on Wednesday this week! That would be awesome. My mom is starting in an Arabian beginners class tomorrow also. And then I have my first meeting with the psychiatry on Gotland this Thursday. Finally! I hope it goes well.
Well, that's it for now. Take care and so on.
Thursday, 20 September 2012
Family secret
It was two days after midsummer, I had realized that I have a crush on my uncle, my mother's brother. For the first time in years we had people over at a holiday, well it was only the four of us in the family, my uncle and his girlfriend.
He's five years older than my mother, which makes him 58, extremely handsome and kind. As the Swedish midsummer usually tends to end up, we got drunk and particularly me and my uncle had just a little too much of that wine. It was the first time I've met him in years, and I was so fascinated by the stories he told, his story, and things about my grandfather I didn't know and I knew my mom was uncomfortable about this. But was it about what he told me, or did she notice I was leading him on? I don't know.
Later, my mom, dad, sister and the girlfriend started to drop off while I and my crush were conversing he asked if he could have a drag from my cigarette. Of course, I said and promised not to tell anyone, cause he quit four years ago. I sort of drowned in his very blue eyes... and I wanted him for that night, and I think he might have suspected what was going on there. It was getting late and we started to move back to our separate beds, and the last I saw of him as he went back to his trailer was that look he gave me. Almost like he felt sorry for me.
He's five years older than my mother, which makes him 58, extremely handsome and kind. As the Swedish midsummer usually tends to end up, we got drunk and particularly me and my uncle had just a little too much of that wine. It was the first time I've met him in years, and I was so fascinated by the stories he told, his story, and things about my grandfather I didn't know and I knew my mom was uncomfortable about this. But was it about what he told me, or did she notice I was leading him on? I don't know.
Later, my mom, dad, sister and the girlfriend started to drop off while I and my crush were conversing he asked if he could have a drag from my cigarette. Of course, I said and promised not to tell anyone, cause he quit four years ago. I sort of drowned in his very blue eyes... and I wanted him for that night, and I think he might have suspected what was going on there. It was getting late and we started to move back to our separate beds, and the last I saw of him as he went back to his trailer was that look he gave me. Almost like he felt sorry for me.
Monday, 17 September 2012
The strongest reason
I feel like I'm frozen inside. Completely numb. The only thing I've felt today is restless irritation towards the world outside my brain and my computer. I almost felt for having pancakes this mid-morning for about ten seconds, so I didn't make any. This emptiness has followed me around these most recent couple of weeks.
I've started cutting again, thought about suicide, hated myself and my life just a little bit more than usual (I didn't even think that was even possible), almost stopped eating, sleeping much more than I need (22 hours most recently) questioned my beliefs and who I am.
It's harder to smile, and when I do I'll just do anything to stop smiling cause it just feels horrible for some reason. I still can't cry, haven't really cried for about a year now. Everything I feel just pushes itself further down, crawling away from the outer world.
Thinking a lot about schizophrenia again, that I might have it. Okay, last time I considered it I was 12... But still afraid of what would happen if I would tell the shrinks about Anna, her voice constantly in my head, day and night. Things I feel that might be considered being a delusion. That I'm otherkin, a demon soul or just the fact that they would think my transsexualism is a schizophrenic delusion. It's known to happen out there, you know. I believe I have strong reasons to not talk about that to any kind of doctors I meet.
But still, one of the strongest reasons I'm not capable of living a "normal" life (normal meaning independent, without constantly having suicidal thoughts or being self destructive, and such) is because of Anna's constant presence. And the other reason is of course that I'm stuck in this female body. Oh, how I hate contradictions like this one.
I just wanna die... don't want this insane fucking struggle. Feels like whatever I do it's gonna be a fatal outcome...
Scenario 1: I do as I do now, which means I shut up about Anna and keep forcing the shrinks to help me with the most important which is my gender identity fuck-ups. Get treated for my transsexualism is the number one thing on my list.
- The good outcome: I won't hate my body, it'd make my life easier in many aspects, so much more in life I'll enjoy. It might even cure my depression and make it easier to have a love life.
- Fatal outcome: all the other stuff like Anna, asperger syndrome, borderline and such might have already caused suicide before I even get testosterone legally.
Scenario 2: I tell shrinks about Anna and that I think I have schizophrenia or some other kind of disorder alike. Get treated for psychosis-related stuff which probably means zombie medications that takes my creativity away.
- The good outcome: I might be able to function better in society if gotten on good medication, therapy or stuff like that. A life without Anna constantly blabbing in my head, being mean to me and mocking me seems like a relief.
- Fatal outcome: I probably won't be considered transsexual at all and will kill myself if I can't get treated for it. I'll also kill myself if I lost my creativity.
Scenario 3: I just give up.
- Good outcome: Hopefully no more pain, suffering or dealing with stupid ignorant doctors and shrinks.
- Fatal outcome: That would be the whole idea.
What is the less stupid choice between 1 and 2?
(Cause I don't think anyone would really think 3 is the best choice... or?)
Did I ever mentioned that I might be thinking too much? (Bad habit, I guess. I'll advice you to get used to it, if you haven't already that is)
I've started cutting again, thought about suicide, hated myself and my life just a little bit more than usual (I didn't even think that was even possible), almost stopped eating, sleeping much more than I need (22 hours most recently) questioned my beliefs and who I am.
It's harder to smile, and when I do I'll just do anything to stop smiling cause it just feels horrible for some reason. I still can't cry, haven't really cried for about a year now. Everything I feel just pushes itself further down, crawling away from the outer world.
Thinking a lot about schizophrenia again, that I might have it. Okay, last time I considered it I was 12... But still afraid of what would happen if I would tell the shrinks about Anna, her voice constantly in my head, day and night. Things I feel that might be considered being a delusion. That I'm otherkin, a demon soul or just the fact that they would think my transsexualism is a schizophrenic delusion. It's known to happen out there, you know. I believe I have strong reasons to not talk about that to any kind of doctors I meet.
But still, one of the strongest reasons I'm not capable of living a "normal" life (normal meaning independent, without constantly having suicidal thoughts or being self destructive, and such) is because of Anna's constant presence. And the other reason is of course that I'm stuck in this female body. Oh, how I hate contradictions like this one.
I just wanna die... don't want this insane fucking struggle. Feels like whatever I do it's gonna be a fatal outcome...
Scenario 1: I do as I do now, which means I shut up about Anna and keep forcing the shrinks to help me with the most important which is my gender identity fuck-ups. Get treated for my transsexualism is the number one thing on my list.
- The good outcome: I won't hate my body, it'd make my life easier in many aspects, so much more in life I'll enjoy. It might even cure my depression and make it easier to have a love life.
- Fatal outcome: all the other stuff like Anna, asperger syndrome, borderline and such might have already caused suicide before I even get testosterone legally.
Scenario 2: I tell shrinks about Anna and that I think I have schizophrenia or some other kind of disorder alike. Get treated for psychosis-related stuff which probably means zombie medications that takes my creativity away.
- The good outcome: I might be able to function better in society if gotten on good medication, therapy or stuff like that. A life without Anna constantly blabbing in my head, being mean to me and mocking me seems like a relief.
- Fatal outcome: I probably won't be considered transsexual at all and will kill myself if I can't get treated for it. I'll also kill myself if I lost my creativity.
Scenario 3: I just give up.
- Good outcome: Hopefully no more pain, suffering or dealing with stupid ignorant doctors and shrinks.
- Fatal outcome: That would be the whole idea.
What is the less stupid choice between 1 and 2?
(Cause I don't think anyone would really think 3 is the best choice... or?)
Did I ever mentioned that I might be thinking too much? (Bad habit, I guess. I'll advice you to get used to it, if you haven't already that is)
Sunday, 16 September 2012
Sleepless night
It's past three o'clock and I'm so damn tired, but I just can't let go of everything I think and feel. It's like this every night and I can't fall asleep until I'm literally exhausted. My head hurts, my whole body hurts and is so tensed, can barely keep my eyes open but this feeling inside me just somehow keeps awake. It's like it's eating me. The feeling I have is that I can't accept me for who I really am. Everything that is constantly spinning in my head is now spinning so fast it appears to be still. And the pain in my gut is not physical...
I can't do anything to distract myself, it's hopeless, cause nothing I've ever tried has worked that way, besides, I'm way too tired. Can't even sit up straight. My mind is torturing my body...
I can't do anything to distract myself, it's hopeless, cause nothing I've ever tried has worked that way, besides, I'm way too tired. Can't even sit up straight. My mind is torturing my body...
Thursday, 13 September 2012
Wanting to do better
I'm slowly starting to reverse my controversal diurnal rythm into a somewhat normal one. I don't know what's hardest: getting out of bed or falling asleep.
I still feel very lost inside myself. It's like I've come to the point where I know so much about myself that I don't anything. So many titles and boxes to put myself into, I'm gonna need a whole office of them. But a part of me just wanna break all those limited frames of everything I am and just... be. It's not that I think I'm incapable of simply just be, it's just that I haven't really found a way of doing it. To stop digging through articles about psychological terms, religion along with trying to find scientific reasons for exactly everything that makes me so fucked up and just stop giving a damn. To stop thinking about being healthy and start being it instead, stop feeling I want to be happy and start doing something about it instead. Stop complaining about looking to feminine and start working out instead. To stop hating the world, humanity, gravity, my emotions and so on, doing everything I can to avoid what I dislike and learn to live with it instead. Don't dream it, be it!
Feels like I'm choking myself and I can't let go. Feels like I'm doing all the harm to myself and not some higher (or lower) power I have no control of. Feels like I actually have a lot more control than I know about. But how is that possible? Is it my subconcience again? I really hate my subconcience, some real fucked up shit is going on down there for sure. I'm haunted by it in my nightly dreams, in underlying emotions that I can't explain, and really old memories that aren't from this world, giving me knowledge I haven't spotted before and takes me to places I had no intention of going to. The real nightmare lies deep inside myself. Why am I not sursprised...
I've upped my cigarette consumation from about 10-15 a day to more like 35 a day... yesterday I was up for about 30 hours and smoked 55. The day before I was up about 14 hours and smoked 32. I've so far gotten through 8 and have been up for 3 hours... don't worry, I can afford it, and still have more money left on my account than I deserve.
I've just entered a sort of period of slight starvation. I feel hungry all the time but don't eat more than a 5 year old. I've just got no apetite for anything at all. Sometimes I feel like having coffee but if I drink more than two cups a day I feel sick. Another stupid reason for this is a weird attempt to make my stomache smaller so that I can't eat as much as I used to do, so when I stop the starving I will eat less big potions of food so I can start losing some weight. At least that's the idea. I just wish smoking could take away the hunger feelings a little, but it just doesn't somehow. Isn't it supposed to?
I've noticed it's hard to internet date on such sites when you have can't honestly answer the questiongs "how are you?" and "what do you do all day?" without scaring the poor bastards off! It's really annoying. I wanna meet someone, but living with my family out in the country miles away from the nearest town, not working or studying, makes it kinda hard...
(Just stumbled upon this picture of smoking nuns and instantly fell for it)
Fading Out
All the humans seeking inspiration
for something to beguile
As the world around me crumbles
I feel nothing worthwhile
The leaves on the trees tremble
but I can't feel the breeze
I'm told that I am so much more
than selfhatred and disease
The world outside looks like a movie
when my presence's fading out
I's easy to imagine the whole world
missing me that it's already without
But I stumble upon communities
and people that I really care for
It will only last a moment before it's gone
and I don't wanna vanish anymore
I still feel very lost inside myself. It's like I've come to the point where I know so much about myself that I don't anything. So many titles and boxes to put myself into, I'm gonna need a whole office of them. But a part of me just wanna break all those limited frames of everything I am and just... be. It's not that I think I'm incapable of simply just be, it's just that I haven't really found a way of doing it. To stop digging through articles about psychological terms, religion along with trying to find scientific reasons for exactly everything that makes me so fucked up and just stop giving a damn. To stop thinking about being healthy and start being it instead, stop feeling I want to be happy and start doing something about it instead. Stop complaining about looking to feminine and start working out instead. To stop hating the world, humanity, gravity, my emotions and so on, doing everything I can to avoid what I dislike and learn to live with it instead. Don't dream it, be it!
Feels like I'm choking myself and I can't let go. Feels like I'm doing all the harm to myself and not some higher (or lower) power I have no control of. Feels like I actually have a lot more control than I know about. But how is that possible? Is it my subconcience again? I really hate my subconcience, some real fucked up shit is going on down there for sure. I'm haunted by it in my nightly dreams, in underlying emotions that I can't explain, and really old memories that aren't from this world, giving me knowledge I haven't spotted before and takes me to places I had no intention of going to. The real nightmare lies deep inside myself. Why am I not sursprised...
I've upped my cigarette consumation from about 10-15 a day to more like 35 a day... yesterday I was up for about 30 hours and smoked 55. The day before I was up about 14 hours and smoked 32. I've so far gotten through 8 and have been up for 3 hours... don't worry, I can afford it, and still have more money left on my account than I deserve.
I've just entered a sort of period of slight starvation. I feel hungry all the time but don't eat more than a 5 year old. I've just got no apetite for anything at all. Sometimes I feel like having coffee but if I drink more than two cups a day I feel sick. Another stupid reason for this is a weird attempt to make my stomache smaller so that I can't eat as much as I used to do, so when I stop the starving I will eat less big potions of food so I can start losing some weight. At least that's the idea. I just wish smoking could take away the hunger feelings a little, but it just doesn't somehow. Isn't it supposed to?
I've noticed it's hard to internet date on such sites when you have can't honestly answer the questiongs "how are you?" and "what do you do all day?" without scaring the poor bastards off! It's really annoying. I wanna meet someone, but living with my family out in the country miles away from the nearest town, not working or studying, makes it kinda hard...
Fading Out
All the humans seeking inspiration
for something to beguile
As the world around me crumbles
I feel nothing worthwhile
The leaves on the trees tremble
but I can't feel the breeze
I'm told that I am so much more
than selfhatred and disease
The world outside looks like a movie
when my presence's fading out
I's easy to imagine the whole world
missing me that it's already without
But I stumble upon communities
and people that I really care for
It will only last a moment before it's gone
and I don't wanna vanish anymore
Wednesday, 12 September 2012
Addiction is never leaving you
Today has been a particularly bad day.
I have no clear idea about the reason for that though. All I can really do is tell you about it. First of all, this is the first night in weeks I slept through and woke up before eight sometime in the morning, but I didn't get up. I decided to stay in bed cause my head hurt like hell and the pain made me feel sick as soon as I sat up. So I slept until noon, but when I went up the headache and sickness was still there. I cursed about it a bit. I was really hungry but the mere thought of food sickened me, so I just took a cup of coffee and some cigarettes. Real healthy breakfast I know, I know... but I just felt like I was literally hanging up-side-down, I would wanna see you try to eat like that.
My sister cooked some dinner for us but I couldn't eat much. Instead I just sat by my computer surfing and spamming the suicide forum (http://www.suicideforum.com/index.php) with all my depressive shit and things I've been through that most people don't really know about. And trust me, you don't wanna know either. I started sketching a drawing of Steve Buscemi that I'd thought about for a few days, which is about as long as I can keep myself from giving in to a whim. Depending on the matters of course.
I had been thinking about wanting to cut myself for the last weeks extra much but since I've stopped that terrible habit in May, I have strong reasons to not go back in that particular Hell again. It's been harder, so much harder to fight those urges the last few days along with the increase of suicidal thoughts. Just don't know what the fuck I'm living for anymore. Do I really need a reason to die, can't it be enough to just don't wanna live? I posted on the suicide forum that the only reasons I'm still alive is that I'm the worst self murderer ever and that I don't wanna hurt the ones I love and who loves me back.
I just snapped. Fell back into old patterns within a heartbeat, and sliced that stainless steel razorblade across my arm.The urges were so horribly strong, stronger than anything I've ever felt, stronger than a whole day without nicotine or three days in a row without any sleep, than any love I've ever felt or the excitement of seeing Alice Cooper live for the first time.
But afterwards of course I was a bloody mess (I don't know if that pun was intended) and hated myself for what I had done. So completely numb, like dead inside. Like I had just killed that last string of hope inside me. I felt like a complete and utter failure.
By the way, one of my main goals in life is finding my murderer. (It shouldn't be so hard all things concidered. I don't mind hate crime). That must be the ultimate way to die. If you know someone who's not gonna be in jail for the next 20 years, please send me a message.
I have no clear idea about the reason for that though. All I can really do is tell you about it. First of all, this is the first night in weeks I slept through and woke up before eight sometime in the morning, but I didn't get up. I decided to stay in bed cause my head hurt like hell and the pain made me feel sick as soon as I sat up. So I slept until noon, but when I went up the headache and sickness was still there. I cursed about it a bit. I was really hungry but the mere thought of food sickened me, so I just took a cup of coffee and some cigarettes. Real healthy breakfast I know, I know... but I just felt like I was literally hanging up-side-down, I would wanna see you try to eat like that.
My sister cooked some dinner for us but I couldn't eat much. Instead I just sat by my computer surfing and spamming the suicide forum (http://www.suicideforum.com/index.php) with all my depressive shit and things I've been through that most people don't really know about. And trust me, you don't wanna know either. I started sketching a drawing of Steve Buscemi that I'd thought about for a few days, which is about as long as I can keep myself from giving in to a whim. Depending on the matters of course.
I had been thinking about wanting to cut myself for the last weeks extra much but since I've stopped that terrible habit in May, I have strong reasons to not go back in that particular Hell again. It's been harder, so much harder to fight those urges the last few days along with the increase of suicidal thoughts. Just don't know what the fuck I'm living for anymore. Do I really need a reason to die, can't it be enough to just don't wanna live? I posted on the suicide forum that the only reasons I'm still alive is that I'm the worst self murderer ever and that I don't wanna hurt the ones I love and who loves me back.
I just snapped. Fell back into old patterns within a heartbeat, and sliced that stainless steel razorblade across my arm.The urges were so horribly strong, stronger than anything I've ever felt, stronger than a whole day without nicotine or three days in a row without any sleep, than any love I've ever felt or the excitement of seeing Alice Cooper live for the first time.
But afterwards of course I was a bloody mess (I don't know if that pun was intended) and hated myself for what I had done. So completely numb, like dead inside. Like I had just killed that last string of hope inside me. I felt like a complete and utter failure.
By the way, one of my main goals in life is finding my murderer. (It shouldn't be so hard all things concidered. I don't mind hate crime). That must be the ultimate way to die. If you know someone who's not gonna be in jail for the next 20 years, please send me a message.
Sunday, 9 September 2012
Steve Buscemi and my many coming outs
Steve Buscemi. That talented bug-eyed actor who creeps you out in most movies who most people don't realize is actually extremely sexy. Nuff' said! I have somehow developed a major crush on him in less than a week. I've looked through 8 movies he has a role in (some he has directed/written) and 3 episodes of the relatively new tv-series Boardwalk Empire where he's the leading role, found a blog made by an equally obsessied fan filled to brim with awesome pictures and trivia, read all I've so far found about him and memorized his birthday, full name, height, where he grew up and what shoe company he made commercials for. This isn't healthy. Have to stop. Can't. Won't!
Okay, lets move on...
Come to think of it, just this moment, how many times have I actually come out of the closet? Or was I ever actually in any closet to begin with, or for that matter how many closets can there ever be? Three times officially, two times kind of unofficially.
1. thoughts of transsexualism (unofficial)
- I vented a little about it to my best friends in the sixth grade, I think.... just a weird thought I had back then, wasn't really a coming out kinda thing yet.
2. bisexual
- In ninth or eight grade, came out to my best friend and family
3. transsexual FtM
- In the fall of 2009, to family and friends, with name- and pronoun changes and all
4. pansexual (sort of unofficial)
- I think I just told a few friends at parties and stuff whenever there was relevence to the current discussion.
5. gay
- officially spitted that one out in front of friends. Actually havent told my family, just because I think it will confuse them even more, they'll see me as a straight girl again instead of the gay guy I am and they'll also think that I am officially permanently more uncapable of making up my own damn mind than the cats.... yeah, think I'll save that one for later.
So what's all this about, then? Do I have even more interesting news for the fans? (Or the lack there of). Yes... in a way. But I don't know. I'm just so damn tired of all these fucking labels by now. Why can't I just fffffffuuuuu be a little normal for once in my God forsaken life?! That little voice in my head says 'be careful what you wish for' and it brings back the memory of the eight year old me, partially molested, wrapped up in Asperger symptoms and seeing and hearing things that aren't really there; sitting somewhere alone in that big house in the country wishing I was different. Why can't I break a leg, have some scars or a fucked up family situation? -I honestly asked the guy up in the blue. How could I be so daft! I most have been the youngest emo ever!
Okay, just get to the fucking point, already...
I don't even know if I have any such, I just need to vent my insides out to the few who would listen. That's the good thing about blogging, I can rant and rant and rant forever and then just shove it in your faces. I can never do that in the real world. Gotta love the cyberspace!
The fucking point is, I most uncertainly think I am asexual. Like yeah, how does one go through all possible kinds of sexualities in less than 10 years and then just out of the blue claim asexuality? Kind of outrageous, I know, but that's just the way I roll. The thing is, being asexual doesn't neccesarily mean you have no sexdrive at all. In my case, it is completely ligitimate to find other people attractive and thinking that you want to have sex with them but when it really comes down to actually having sex... it just doesn't work. It doesn't feel right, and you really just wanna get the heck out of there! I've sorta figured out I'm an asexual fetishist, or how to twist the words to get the term right.
Okay, lets move on...
Come to think of it, just this moment, how many times have I actually come out of the closet? Or was I ever actually in any closet to begin with, or for that matter how many closets can there ever be? Three times officially, two times kind of unofficially.
1. thoughts of transsexualism (unofficial)
- I vented a little about it to my best friends in the sixth grade, I think.... just a weird thought I had back then, wasn't really a coming out kinda thing yet.
2. bisexual
- In ninth or eight grade, came out to my best friend and family
3. transsexual FtM
- In the fall of 2009, to family and friends, with name- and pronoun changes and all
4. pansexual (sort of unofficial)
- I think I just told a few friends at parties and stuff whenever there was relevence to the current discussion.
5. gay
- officially spitted that one out in front of friends. Actually havent told my family, just because I think it will confuse them even more, they'll see me as a straight girl again instead of the gay guy I am and they'll also think that I am officially permanently more uncapable of making up my own damn mind than the cats.... yeah, think I'll save that one for later.
So what's all this about, then? Do I have even more interesting news for the fans? (Or the lack there of). Yes... in a way. But I don't know. I'm just so damn tired of all these fucking labels by now. Why can't I just fffffffuuuuu be a little normal for once in my God forsaken life?! That little voice in my head says 'be careful what you wish for' and it brings back the memory of the eight year old me, partially molested, wrapped up in Asperger symptoms and seeing and hearing things that aren't really there; sitting somewhere alone in that big house in the country wishing I was different. Why can't I break a leg, have some scars or a fucked up family situation? -I honestly asked the guy up in the blue. How could I be so daft! I most have been the youngest emo ever!
Okay, just get to the fucking point, already...
I don't even know if I have any such, I just need to vent my insides out to the few who would listen. That's the good thing about blogging, I can rant and rant and rant forever and then just shove it in your faces. I can never do that in the real world. Gotta love the cyberspace!
The fucking point is, I most uncertainly think I am asexual. Like yeah, how does one go through all possible kinds of sexualities in less than 10 years and then just out of the blue claim asexuality? Kind of outrageous, I know, but that's just the way I roll. The thing is, being asexual doesn't neccesarily mean you have no sexdrive at all. In my case, it is completely ligitimate to find other people attractive and thinking that you want to have sex with them but when it really comes down to actually having sex... it just doesn't work. It doesn't feel right, and you really just wanna get the heck out of there! I've sorta figured out I'm an asexual fetishist, or how to twist the words to get the term right.
Yes it's true I've had my encounters and good ones too, it's just that in 99% of the cases I would rather have locked myself into a room with a dirty novel, videos or pictures instead. And that's a form of asexuality as well.
(Picture of mr. Buscemi from the movie Fargo)
Friday, 7 September 2012
Obsessing about obsessing too much
Obsessing really hurts when you've passed the point of realizing it's not good for you, yet you cannot change your mindset, you just can't fucking stop. And I can't help but reminding myself of all the other obsessions that nearly ruined my life even more. Imagined relationships with people I barely know or don't know at all, the computer full of pictures, diary full of scriblings of stories, thoughts, letters, actual or imaginary conversations. So cought up fantasazing I almost forget the real person actually exists out there in the world and that they don't know me at all. Until reality finally hits (and it's good that it does) I just can't stop crying. No words can really describe how that feels. Somewhat like the mix of a heartbreak, losing an arm and what's the word for when you realize it was all a big waste of time and wondering how you could even cough up that much intence emotions of what actually was an imaginary person.
Vivid imagination, people used to call it sometimes. A great gift, they said too, that about having a vivid imagination I mean, don't think they actually ment having a huge crush on an imaginary friend... Yeah, some gift huh.
So now I sit here, and it's me and not my computer that's crashing, and all I want to do is go to my room with shrinking walls and cut myself until I can't feel the pain anymore and just drift away to a horrible sleep where those horrible dreams are made. Yuck.
But what does cutting solve? I wanna solve my fucking problems, not make myself feel even worse. For seven years I've basically been watching my life pass me by and nothing I've done has been truly helpful. And fucking talking about it doesn't solve a thing. I want a real solution, something that actually helps. But the thing is, through all this time I've just stacked my problems in a big fucking pile of shit, and the more I hang around the worse it gets and the more problems I get.
I wish i could somehow uncomplicate myself. I mean: I hate how I look, I obsess about something meaningless all the time, I have people in my head, get overemotional all the time, the only thing I'm good at is drawing and writing, I can't work, can barely study, God didn't get my gender right, I'm more than fairly self-destructive, my mind is constantly filled with fobias, anxiety and annoying coversations with Anna, I can't sleep at night and be awake at day, I can't keep the friends I make or live alone without having my mom hanging over my shoulder every minute, and I can't deny the fact that I'm actually a demon incarnated to a human body and mindset.
Am I just clinically in sane or was I just struck with an abnormal amout of bad luck? Will I ever get better at living, or am I doomed for life? Will this life ever be worth living...?
Vivid imagination, people used to call it sometimes. A great gift, they said too, that about having a vivid imagination I mean, don't think they actually ment having a huge crush on an imaginary friend... Yeah, some gift huh.
So now I sit here, and it's me and not my computer that's crashing, and all I want to do is go to my room with shrinking walls and cut myself until I can't feel the pain anymore and just drift away to a horrible sleep where those horrible dreams are made. Yuck.
But what does cutting solve? I wanna solve my fucking problems, not make myself feel even worse. For seven years I've basically been watching my life pass me by and nothing I've done has been truly helpful. And fucking talking about it doesn't solve a thing. I want a real solution, something that actually helps. But the thing is, through all this time I've just stacked my problems in a big fucking pile of shit, and the more I hang around the worse it gets and the more problems I get.
I wish i could somehow uncomplicate myself. I mean: I hate how I look, I obsess about something meaningless all the time, I have people in my head, get overemotional all the time, the only thing I'm good at is drawing and writing, I can't work, can barely study, God didn't get my gender right, I'm more than fairly self-destructive, my mind is constantly filled with fobias, anxiety and annoying coversations with Anna, I can't sleep at night and be awake at day, I can't keep the friends I make or live alone without having my mom hanging over my shoulder every minute, and I can't deny the fact that I'm actually a demon incarnated to a human body and mindset.
Am I just clinically in sane or was I just struck with an abnormal amout of bad luck? Will I ever get better at living, or am I doomed for life? Will this life ever be worth living...?
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