The end of the world

Knowing that K will always be in my heart and soul doesn't terrify me anymore. It comforts me and I never feel quite alone within myself, cause he's always there, somehow.

Other things terrify me, but no matter what happens, I will never let him go, never completely. I can't just take him out of my heart and soul, he'll always be there, even if anything. If I'd somehow manage to fall for someone else, if my heart would break, if he would die, if I would die. He'll always be with me that way, and that is comforting but also saddening, heavy.

It's heavy to carry and loving has never been easy for me. Easy to fall in love, way too easy, but keep loving someone has always been hard. Not that I would fall out of love, but that it's wearing me down so much. It's a weight that I can't take off, only crumble beneath or find ways to endure.

I worry about the future, my own, his and ours. Not that we have a relationship, but we have something. Friendship, some form of trust, he likes me and I like him more. If something awful happened to one of us the other would be devastated. I truly believe that, not just that I want to, cause I don't work that way. Before, not many months ago, I did not think he would even flinch if something happened to me, but now... it's different now.

So much has changed yet I crave so much more. I wonder if that is right of me, if I should even be allowed to feel this way for someone who might not feel the same. It shouldn't be that way. Hearts are supposed to find each other, not chase each other. I feel like I'm chasing him, trying to turn him towards me and desperately want him to see me the way I see him.

Is it love, is it obsession? I ask myself as I can't think of a truthful enough answer. Because if it is just obsession, then it is just a chase. But if it is love, then the chase would be meaningless. Though I know that, that the chase is meaningless. It's hindering me, it's wrong and it won't lead me anywhere. I'm running in circles around him, cause I've already caught up, if that makes any sense. I don't know.

I only know that I'm there, right beside him, but unable to reach out. Like there's a glass wall between us even though we could be as close to each other that our bodies touch. It scares me, how far away I feel that I am from him. I don't know how to change it, without making it any worse. I want to show him my world, sides of me that not many get to see, but I don't think he wants to know those sides in particular.

And it holds me back. It's like I need to be sure that I'm not making a fool of myself before I go that far. Before I try to break down that glass wall, even if that would mean cutting myself on the broken shards in the process, I just want to know if it's right. My own needs come second and for months, a year and more, I've only put him first and neglected my own needs and desires.

I do it because I care, because I love him so damn much. I can't think clearly when I'm around him, I forget what I want to say, become shyer by the day and I don't know why. It should be the other way around. I'm just scared that if I don't hold my mouth I won't be able to control myself. So I hold it, I hold it until I suffocate.

I know that that is not right, I shouldn't suffocate because I'm scared of letting him know the whole truth. I've given him a glimpse, almost like a whisper. That was all I could do, because after withholding something for 17 months it's very hard to break that barrier completely. No matter how drunk I am, my heart races faster than I can imagine, I get dizzy and it gets hard to swallow, hard not to cry, just by thinking about telling him.

Yes, it does suffocate me, little by little every day, or week at least. It's drowning me and I don't know much longer I can keep doing this. Someday I'll have to let him know. I don't think it would be wrong, just hard. So incredibly hard I can only begin to fathom it, it breaks like shattered glass inside me, like nothing I've ever encountered before.

I hope that by trying, by imagining telling him, over and over I'm going through it in my mind, that I could somehow get used to that thought and it would be easier to actually telling him. To get used to my racing heart, or try to calm it down in the middle of my thought process to then continue. Trying to be realistic, expect a variety of answers: bad, neutral, good, indifferent, none existent, chaotic, calm, terrifying, anything that my mind can possibly come up with.

His reaction is the key to my dreadful anxiety about this. Everything is connected to that. It could be a full sentence, a phrase or just one word. It could break me, and that is what I'm so scared of. That when I finally decide to completely let my guard down before him and spill out everything I want him to know, he would react in some way that would completely break me. That is my nightmare.

It's different, if you just have a crush on someone. It's very different. Cause for me, we're talking unconditional love that not even the end of the world could interrupt. I'll love him no matter what, literally no matter what until my last breath.

I haven't updated you on this for a while, just wanted you to know that despite my anorexia tendencies and obsession with food and weight, K still comes first, he always will.

Control state: 50-50

Everything is so messed up right now, I can't think clearly. Don't even know where to begin. That I told my crush sort of what I feel for him, that my life situation is spiralling out of control with this food/weight stuff, that I'm back to cutting and drinking. I just feel this intense self hatred that is blowing out of proportion and it effects everything I do. I'm just so fucking self aware it has become a problem.

I went fasting yesterday but now I'm back to eating my baby portions again. It did give me result and this morning I was at the lowest weight I've ever been since junior high (ten years ago) which is at 59,5 kg. So happy over that but even more scared of gaining weight as I've started eating again... If I do get above 60 kg again I'll just have to fast again but for two days instead of one and keep going until I just don't get above 60 kg again.

I'm very persistent and I've made this shit my life goal number one. It makes me not think so much about the other things that I worry about. Like K, every finishing my book, and whatever is going on in my fucked up mind. To keep constant track of what I eat, should eat, shouldn't eat, when to eat and even why. My constant fear of gaining weight, my thoughts of how fat I feel, exercise plans and goals and this list is too fucking long to write down... but I'm sure you get it.

It's a full time work and it's driving me crazy half the time, and only half the time I feel like I'm in control over this thing, the other half I feel this thing has control over me. So it's 50-50 now... It's just been barely two weeks so who knows, it might calm down in a while, but somehow I doubt it. Something just snapped in me that Monday the 15th and I don't think I'm gonna snap back.

See, I'm obsessing again. And again and again and again. I've never been like this before, this is some new kind of hell for me. The hell of slowly losing control for yet another mental illness. I mean, I've been starving before, I've even worked out hard before, and I've obsessed about my weight before. But not all three, this intensively, all at once. Everything just hit me at once and I'm crumbling beneath it, but I still stay strong, knowing I just have to go through with it if I want to reach my goal.

Why do I feel bad? Why do I feel bad over eating a meal of as little as 40 calories? Shit, I'm really on a down hill slope now. I can't, I can't eat or drink or have anything else with calories today except from tea which contains so little it just says <4kcal are="" br="" can="" changing="" doing="" everything="" figure="" i="" keep="" lose="" m="" maybe="" of.="" on="" out="" package.="" right="" seem="" so="" some="" still="" t="" that="" the="" there="" things="" think="" to="" weight="" why="" wrong.="" yet="">
This guilt is so hopelessly strong, it still is. I crave and I crave but I just can't have any of it. Not until tomorrow. Right now, that guilt is enough to keep me from anything and everything. I won't binge, I certainly won't. I read somewhere that you're considered anorexic if you just starve yourself (live on less than 900 kcal a day) but I don't think that's true. It's about a certain mindset, it's more about control and weight and numbers and obsession than it is about food.

I know. I've read tons of articles, forum threads, essays, and seen loads of youtube videos and documentaries by now. I am literally obsessed as I've never been before. For only almost two weeks I've searched the whole internet for information, pro-ana tips, ways to avoid it, what causes it, if I have it and so on.

The fear

I don't know where to begin. These last 9 days have been so intense and I'm not feeling so good right now. I feel great physically, have more energy and better condition, but not emotionally. I just got so upset when I saw that I've gained half a kilo and I can't think clearly.

Because during this time, I haven't made much progress at all, it feels like it was all for nothing. All that work, I put my life at risk and it gave me basically nothing. Just need to go even harder on myself.

I'm slipping and I'm slipping fast. I start to believe in the voices telling me that I'm fat, that I eat too much, that I'm lazy and don't push myself hard enough. It's getting harder to ignore them, knowing, just knowing that they're right.

I don't know how much I wanna share here anymore, cause I just become worse and worse by the day and I don't want you worrying about me. Is it even possible for me to fall this fast? But I don't fight it, I don't want to fight it. I just want to reach my goal.

How, just how did weight and weight loss become so critical, so mandatory for me to go on living? When I grew up I was never concerned about my weight, not really. I hated my bone structure and of course I wanted to be thin, but it wasn't that important to me. As long as I wasn't overweight or heavier it was alright with me. So I can't understand why suddenly I can't even weigh myself without a horrible fear that I might have gained weight.

That fear, it clings to me. I don't understand it, I don't understand eating disorders or why it seems like I'm getting one. I just needed to vent, so here's half the truth.

Control of the voices

Yesterday... It's so weird, I can't really remember anything that happened yesterday. I think maybe some things happened, but then I think it was only a dream. But why would I dream about going to the gym and buying groceries? It doesn't make sense to me.

Today hasn't been a very good day. I felt bad about what I had eaten yesterday (which by the way also feels like a dream, and a horrible one at that) and the guilt shadowed everything. And then I have eaten today even though I promised myself that I wouldn't. I've worked out so hard, just praying that it burned off most of those calories.

Drinking green tea like a maniac and wishing to gods that I haven't gained any weight. Too nervous to find out, it leaves a lump in my throat. Over how incredibly scared I am of gaining weight. That fear itself scares me too. That I fear my own fear.

It does things to me, and now even Anna turns against me. She pushes me to work out harder, to stay in control and to not eat too much or unhealthy foods. Anna is becoming Ana. Why do mental disorders/illnesses have female names, by the way? That Ana is anorexia, Mia is bulimia and Sally is schizophrenia, for example.

My mind is playing tricks on me. I'm lingering in a grey zone between avoiding getting anorexia and giving in for the possibility that I'm slipping and that fast. My thoughts are changing. I'm starting to believe that I'm fat, that certain foods are bad for me even though I know that they are not. Like full grain bread or juicy fruits. I'm starting to believe in the ghosts in my head telling me everything I need to hear in order to keep going.

The voices are my own, similar to thoughts, yet very different. They're like echoes, asking me "do you really want to eat that?" when I examine something from the fridge, whispering and repeating that I'm fat when I run. That I cannot stop, no matter what. Still I have enough sanity in me to ignore the voices, telling them that they're wrong, but as I slowly start to believe them, they take control over me and everything that I do.

And that I fear. I do this to gain control, not to lose it. But right now and still, my goal is more important than my sanity. I didn't have much sanity even to begin with, so what's the fucking difference anyway? Just one more disaster to add to the pile, just one more thing fucking up my mind. Yeah, it just adds to the pile, like another dirty piece of clothing to the laundry basket.

I will survive it, when I get there. If I become thin, the rest doesn't matter. I'll deal with it, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

Real or dream

It seems unreal to me in hindsight. Like something I just dreamed. I wish it was just a dream, and maybe if I never bring it up again, it could be like it was just a dream. I must have left him with so many thoughts in that dream. I know he was sleepless for many hours after I went to sleep.

Speaking of dreams, I do remember that I had a dream within a dream tonight. God, how many times can I say the word "dream" and still form readable sentences today? And today hasn't even started yet. I woke up hungover and thirsty like never before. Though I slept for a good eight or so hours since I fell asleep around 23:00 o'clock yesterday.

I wanna keep it to myself for a while, as long as I still believe it was just a dream. Cause if I tell people, maybe the dream was actually real and it would break me. I'm too young to break like that. Too young to die, too young for another heartbreak. I don't know why age suddenly matters, but I'm being chased by death and want to live my life to the fullest and I'm not gonna die during the best year of my life.

Just wanted for you to know that. That I'm not going anywhere, that I dread my own death, my own actions more than anything right now. What I'm capable of. And I won't force it upon myself, won't take actions into my own hands. Weeping for the possibility that I'm out of chances and nothing is worth holding on to. Just weight loss and working on a book that fucking never gets finished.

My heart is beating so fast, just wishing that the dream was a dream and nothing more, but I know that it wasn't a dream. I told him in reality, I fucking told him and I don't know what to do with myself. I was drunk, very drunk and took the chance. All the other things we talked about became pale and vague, slipping away like a scarf blowing away from your neck in the wind.

I don't know. I don't know what to do. He didn't give me a clear answer, I'm not much sounder than before. But just that he didn't immediately respond with any kind of positive emotions tells me that he's not into me right now. But maybe... maybe he'll give me a chance later on. And that's all I can live for. That's all I can live for.

I hate it, when I put my whole life in the hands of another person like this. That what they do, what they say rules my entire existence. It's dangerous, it's far beyond dangerous, especially since they don't even know that they hold my life in their hands. It's putting a pressure on an unknowing person without their consent. Is that right? Is it wrong?

But ignoring it, or trying to ignore it, maybe I can stay above the surface, swimming slowly, carefully not to drown. Hold on to razor blades, Zyprexa, music, writing, World of Warcraft, and I might be just fine. What have I done? What have I done?

Practice what I preach

I believe I cut mostly because I hate my body, but I know that isn't quite an effective method to deal with that self hatred. It doesn't help. Yet I keep at it to try to gain some self control but I know it's hopeless.

I'm soon gonna make the smallest portion (half a portion) of porridge ever known to man. Because I feel guilty if I eat too much, and I figured if I eat less but more often I will have an easier time losing weight. So yeah, tiny breakfast, tiny lunch and tiny dinner.

Usually it's breakfast at around 11:00, lunch at around 14:00, dinner around 18:00 and then I have something small at 21:00 which is 3-4 hours before I go to bed. You shouldn't eat later than that, which is a professional opinion I've heard and read from a various amount of resources. It's about how the body processes the food when you're asleep.

Trying to plan my meals might be a good thing. Cause it's important that I know what I'm doing and having some consistency in my eating habits too. Weight loss seems like priority number one and then I can deal with the rest with less focus. And then I go for a run around noon, at least 30 minutes after breakfast. Then take my walk to the grocery store prior to getting my lunch, but not every day. That walk is mostly about just getting to the there and back.

I can't help but thinking about how my exercise routine should look like when I begin school again in January. But there are several months until then, so I know I shouldn't worry about that just yet. Besides, it's fairly easy to plan such things, in my opinion. Probably gonna take a run in the morning before school and then go to the gym in the afternoon/evening. Can't be much more complicated than that.

I'll probably be paying for lunch in school but not eat much of it. Just something to keep me going, you know. Damn, I'm talking about that as if I'd still be on my weight loss journey by then... I hope not, but maybe I'm just sure, somewhere inside me, that I won't be satisfied with my weight by then either, whether I've reached down to 50 kg or not. And damn, I'm gonna get so much comments about me being too thin... how annoying.

Because that shouldn't be anyone's business but my own. It's my body, my choice. It's about body image, self control and confidence, things that I need to achieve so that I can live with myself. It scares me though, that if I would gain weight, to be become overweight again, I'm not even doubting that I would kill myself. But I'd rather leave a pretty corpse behind me, so do you see a problem there? Maybe not, if you think being overweight wouldn't make me ugly.

But I do, and I think so, and somehow my own body image and self esteem is more important than your opinions. Though I like hearing that I look good, so if you think that, I would appreciate it. I might not be good looking in my own eyes, but I do realise that I might be in someone else's.

And I'm not the kind of person who discards compliments just because of my poor self esteem. I really appreciate it and it does make a difference. Maybe not a significant difference, but something. A smile, you may make my day, or at least a few hours.

I'm about to make breakfast, just gonna finish smoking this cigarette. Then I have to start editing again. Okay, done. Tiny portion has been made and eaten. Full? Not in the least. But it's something. If I'm gonna starve, I better do it right, with small portions throughout the day instead of just one normal sized portion. It's about the same amount of food, just more spread out. Gonna buy chicken, lettuce, cucumber, onions and cheese later today to make myself a tiny salad for lunch. I'm healthy, in very small doses and that feels pretty good.

So I really needed this circadian rhythm, just need to go to bed earlier. I need some consistency and eating and exercising at somewhat the same times every day, get a routine, no matter how boring that is. At least it will keep me busy. Gonna swing by the pharmacy today as well, it's on the way to the grocery store. See if they've got some apple cider vinegar capsules, cause I don't think I'll manage the liquid form.

Then I'm so gonna hit the gym at 17:00 which is when they open. Would have gone earlier if I could, but alas, I obviously can't. Then maybe whip up some kind of dinner directly after. Oh yes, I'm taking this very seriously. Desperate enough to practice what I preach.

I've been on and on about this outside of the blog as well, but felt like it was mostly just a lot of rambling. I get obsessed and look up dieting and exercising websites as well as pro-ana tips and inspirational youtube videos about weight loss. Try to find any information and inspiration I can find. Google thinspiration and before-after pictures. Plan my plan in detail and exactly what I'm gonna do, how long it will take and so on and so on.

This is an endless rambling so I'm just gonna post this and then continue later.

How to get older, don't die

I'm still going strong about the running kinda deal and it's 4 days and counting now. Though it's getting all the more painful cause my legs just hurt more and more after each time. Soon I won't be able to walk... Gonna swing by the gym later today and see when they're open. Then I'm gonna plan which days and times of date I'm gonna go there. And what I want to do there.

Sometimes when I think back in my life, I do feel like I'm kinda old, but I know that I'm not. I don't mind age though, and in fact I still think I'm too young. Too young to be taken seriously in society, too you to have a life, too young for my mind, too young for my soul. Mostly those last 2 but the others are a problem too.

No, I do kinda wish I was older. Older and more content with myself and life itself. That maybe I will have more life experiences and a better grip on reality by then. I don't know, maybe that's just wishful thinking. But I also want to look older. Sometime mid to late 30s would be perfect. There's a reason why I chose for my main character in my book to be 37 years old. It's somewhere around there where my mental age is. Also, I can't imagine how awesome I would look after that long time on testosterone!

My soul though, is more like hundreds, maybe even thousands of years old. Can't keep up with that, it would be impossible. But it is frustrating having a very old soul and a young body. I don't know exactly why, but yeah. They just don't fit together, my body and my soul. They are so tremendously different from each other you can't imagine what a hell it's been like. Not only the huge age gap but species, gender, experiences, home location, wishes, dreams, needs, wants, hopes, everything. Literally everything is so off that they can't co-operate at all.

I wonder what went so terribly wrong in my creation. But I do, slowly, realise that if I could take it all back and to never have been born as a human being in the first place, I don't think I would. I still miss Caspian, Naor and the life I had back there, but I would miss trying to be human too if I would delete it all. I wouldn't want to press that delete button if I had the choice to anymore.

That is a huge thing for me. To have been aching for going back to my past life for over 20 years to suddenly not wanting to leave this place, it's... yeah, huge. I would miss so much if I left right now. I would miss K, my friends, my family, cats, hot summers, drawing, writing, music, cigarettes/smoking and even Anna.

Though of course the list of things I would not miss might be longer: anxiety, asperger, hallucinations, memories of sexual abuse, the headaches that never go away, food, sleep, alcoholism, medication, loneliness, my broken heart, unrequited love, lovesickness, mood swings, allergic reactions, self destruction, self medication, dealing with being transsexual, and yeah this list is significantly longer.

But I don't want to die just because I feel like shit. I've been feeling like shit through most of my life and I haven't been suicidal all that time. Though I do get that people are worried. They keep constant check on me whenever things start to become dark and painful again. And they should. They have all the reasons to start worrying about me, or to never let go of that worry.

It is frustrating to me when everyone is so worried all the time, but in a way I appreciate their concern. Because as of lately, I've gotten a taste of what it's like to be that friend who has to see a friend suffer, and for the first time I know what that is like. To stand on the outside and helplessly watch that friend getting worse and worse. That there's not much you can do to help or support them.

I try. I try so hard it brings me down too. Cause I've never been in that situation before and I don't know exactly how to act or how to control my own feelings about that friend's well-being. So I do understand why you're worried and that it's justified and valid. I didn't understand that before. Back then I just thought you were annoying and I wished everyone would just leave me alone. But as I've come to understand it, I also come to appreciate it.

But back on topic again. I don't wanna kill myself. Not yet at least. Maybe in a week, or a month, or in two years. I don't know. But I hope it won't be too soon. I have goals and dreams to fulfil before I go and do something stupid. I have I book to publish (and I'm soon done, how about that, huh?) and I want to lose weight and have bottom surgery, try to end up in a relationship with K (or someone else if he doesn't love me and I manage to let go of him) and start practising karate again. Get to know more friends through school or something and get more tattoos. The list isn't that long, but it's enough to keep me alive. It's enough to keep me alive.

Trying my best

I've become cleanlier since the surgery, cause it makes it easier, more enjoyable to shower now that I don't have boobs anymore. But now that my bottom dysphoria has become stronger, it's getting harder again to shower. Have to do it at night with the light turned off then. Again. I try though, to focus on how happy I am with my "new" chest instead. The changes from my beloved testosterone that are worth dying for. That make me not hate myself as much as I did before.

Back then, before transition and when I was overweight, it was very hard for me to shower. Very. I ended up only doing it about once a week which is not quite enough. My dysphoria was so bad that I couldn't look at my body without feeling sick and wanting to throw up. Compared to then, I am happy with the way I look. I just have this one (technically two) things that I want to throw up over and the rest is alright. It's a huge improvement but I keep forgetting that.

I'm so greedy and needy, vain and selfish that it's hard for me to focus on what is good rather than on what is bad. So painfully self aware with such a low self esteem that it's scaring people. Seriously, that is true. They get scared and worried for me because of my poor body image. But it's not always that bad, sometimes when I look in the mirror I think I look alright, sometimes even good. That with clothes on I do look like a guy and my hips don't look too wide.

Depending on what I'm wearing of course then. Track suits don't do me any good, but tight or straight jeans and big sweaters do. Tight shirts combined with loose pants is a no, but button down shirts and black pants is a yes. I know how to dress to make me look/appear more masculine than I actually am. But I long and ache for being able to wear what I fucking want to wear without looking like a curvy girl.

Yeah, I compromise a lot when it comes to my clothing. If it wasn't for my bad passing skills, I would wear tight white jeans and tight shirts. I would wear red pants, feminine cardigans, t-shirts or tank tops with unicorns on. I would wear corsets and lace when going out. I would wear spexy goth make up and maybe have a more alternative and spexy hair style too.

I'm just saying that I don't dress the way I want to. Not really. Sure, I don't force myself to wear ugly clothes or anything, but I do go for a vastly more masculine clothing style just so that I can pass. Sometimes though, I do wear slightly more feminine clothes. Like a cardigan/sweater thing that I found second hand is obviously made for women. And I do have a few women's jeans too, but it's not noticeable, the only difference between those pairs and the one's found in the men's section is that the button is on the other side.

I want to get down to size small or extra small in men's clothing again, and somewhere below 30 inches in pant sizes. I look forward to lose weight like never before, knowing that I'm so damn close now... just 10 more kg to go.

Yeah, I think I'll set my goal to 50 kg rather thah 55 kg. I have to be realistic, by which I mean that 5 kg doesn't do much difference, but 10 kg does. I just hope that that will be enough. Would be a bummer if I reach down to 50 kg and then still being too fat so I have to go down to 45 kg. That could take a little longer than a few months. But it's possible, if I dare hoping, that I can lose 5 kg in two weeks like before a few times. In that pace I will have lost 10 kg in a month and or 15 kg in one and a half month.

But I'm realistic and hope I will have gone down to 50 kg before or until December. And if not, I can still go to the gym when the snow comes and skip running but doing similar exercises at the gym instead. But then I would have to get a gym card because visiting it almost every day would be extremely expensive otherwise. And hoping I could get some kind of allowance for that. That would be neat, but I'm not hoping too much.

Haha, the crew noticed that I've been running around outdoors here. I didn't say that it's because I'm desperate to lose weight though. I'm getting horny for no reason all the time today. Gotta find a way to deal with that cause I don't think it will get any better in time.

My body is so weird. That my metabolism is so slow it's barely even moving at all. That my required intake for my body to work fine is below 500 calories a day. That just shouldn't even be possible. That is if I don't exercise. I'm hoping that some exercise will work, or I don't know what will. Cause I'm gonna exercise myself crazier than ever. Walking, running, going to the gym, anything I can think of that is possible for me to do.

Okay, now it's starting to feel like I'm repeating myself a lot. I have basically no appetite at all again. I can go up to 10 hours without food without even noticing a trace of hunger or cravings for food. I have nothing against living on coffee and cigarettes, it's just that I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do if this doesn't work. I can never know for sure before I try. I just really don't want it to fail. I'm gonna put so much work into it and you know what I hate the most? Failing even though I've tried my very best.

Is everything temporary?

Why do I not believe that everything is temporary? I've just been seeing that as a tumblr post almost every day now for a while and I'm like "nope, still not gonna reblog". Because I have known and still experience something similar to absolute eternity. Two things I believe can literally last forever: your soul and true love.

Because reincarnation and Caspian. I will always believe in them, I will always believe in Naor and my life back there. But in a sense, everything in this life could be temporary, unless I still love Caspian when or if I get reincarnated again. A love that reaches beyond several incarnations... what is eternity if not that?

Sometimes I wish I had been more experienced when I came to this world. Like how much more experienced can you get? After having lived my life as a watcher, a wise prophet and mischievous guardian for thousands of years or more before I came here. I was an information sponge and gladly shared what I had learned, in Naor. I was an inspiration to many, curious about the world even after having living in that perfect paradise for so long.

How much more experienced can I get? Well, for starters, this life is quite the radical difference and I just simply wish I could have come here a little more prepared. But I have a sensation that that would have been losing the point of coming here. I'm here to learn about living life in almost every aspect as a human being, I'm here to study human beings. If I had come more prepared, what would be the point?

I don't know. But a little warning would have been neat, and that probably would have saved me from a great deal of misunderstanding. If I had gotten the information about my meaning of life before I actually did... Well, I did get the message sometime when I was about 10, I think, but I lost it and had to spend another 8 or 10 years searching for it until I found it again.

That was a bit inconvenient. But on the other hand, I actually fucking managed to figure out the meaning of life. Not many people do. In fact, they are so few that most of them are considered prophets. I'm just an ex-prophet so I don't really wish to become one again. Been there, done that, you know.

Nah, I satisfy with less. Besides, I'm kinda tired of all that attention for something so huge. My memories of Naor still come back to me all the more, it's just that I don't always realise, but it's like every time I think about it, the more I seem to remember.

I can't imagine living without a purpose and those memories. What would life here on earth have been like without that? Would I be happier, or even more lost and confused? Would I even have bothered looking for the meaning of life and other existential questions' answers? I wouldn't have been able to complete my mission, I would not be able to leave (die) until I figured it out.

So maybe in a way I'm glad I figured it out so early in life (I was about 18-20 years old) because that means I have a lot more time to actually complete that mission, at the best of my ability and as much as I even give a damn about it. I live with a purpose, a prophecy hanging over me and long lost memories that suffocate me. Who can anyone blame me for being suicidal more than I'm not?

It's all too much. Stressed out by my mission that I'm not so keep on completing, afraid of dying before I'm 30 years old, missing Caspian sometimes so much that I cry myself to sleep, missing a home that I might never be to return to and that possibly never even was. Living with mental illness and disability. Going through traumas and living with transsexualism. And then this life constantly fucks me over. It's not so strange that I turn to self destruction just to survive. Because self harm and suicide, that is not a part of why my life here sucks, it's the consequence.

Because it's overwhelming and there is no peace for me to find. It's just brutal and raw and I don't think I'll ever be able to let go of Naor, Caspian, and my true form. I will never be able to appreciate this life as much as I appreciated the previous. I wish I could, damn I wish I could.

Not everything is temporary, even though people who only lived this one life as human beings might think so. Not everyone get reincarnated, not everyone remembers it. I can tell though, if someone has an old soul or not. I mean those who are "new" tend to be a bit more childish even in late adult years, gullible even, wanting to change the world but they're also more close minded; while the older ones tend to be more wise and analytical, more accepting of the world as it is, more open minded and in some indescribable way more experienced even if they're young with not that many actual experiences. Most people seem to be in the in between though.

I didn't intend for this entry to become so long (as usual, one could think I should have learned that by now) but oh well. And I came up with all this because of one sentence: "Everything is temporary." and it lead me to my utter disagreement. Most of what I hold dear, has been dear to me for longer than I can possibly grasp. It is eternal, infinite. But how can I know for sure? The future is a mystery that no one can solve before getting there.

I can only guess and hope that my homesickness and love for Caspian won't ever go away, that they will stay with me for the rest of my life and beyond my death. Cause I need to look forward to it, need to hold on to it when everything else is dark and painful. The only true happiness I've ever found. So that when I die, I can rest in peace.

Out of words

I'm done with the third draft and I feel strangely empty. Think I'm gonna take a few days off before I go at it again to make the fourth draft. See if I can get my father to print it all out on paper. But that requires of me to go over to my family's place and possibly stay there for a few days over a weekend or something. I really don't feel like dealing with them right now... Update: they don't have a printer anymore, so yeah, fuck that plan then.

I don't know but it feels like I'm slipping into depression. Though I'm just worried that it's me being too heavily influenced by a certain person again. Adapt to what he is feeling and somehow start feeling it myself. Is it even possible to get clinical depression because your loved one has it? My way of sympathising is reaching in far too deep for it to be healthy...

Like, what does it help anyway, to feel bad because he does? How is that helping him? How is it helping me? See what I did there? I thought of him before myself. I'm so tired today, only slept 2 hours last night, somewhere between 7 and 9 this morning. I've been rambling so much shit and mostly about the trans stuff. The same in new angles and some new stuff. We'll see if I'll post some of that later, I dunno.

About the TMI, just a quicky. I'm gonna try to abstain from masturbating for some time and see how that works out. I know I have done so in the past, but usually I can't go longer than a couple of weeks without it. And now being on testosterone... well, I'd call it a challenge.

I went running today, by the way, just like I said I would. I'm a man of my words! Haha, it was horrible though. I couldn't breathe. My lung capacity has always been sucky but with the smoking... yeah, you'll figure it out. One good thing about it though, is that nothing was bumping around on my chest, which... gah I can't describe the awesomeness of that feeling! I've never run since before the surgery, so that was a bit incredible.

Gonna keep running, just as much or little as I can every day not soon after I wake up, preferably before noon. Then when I get money again I'm gonna hit the gym as well. I really hope I won't fuck it up, that my motivation will hold all the way down to 55 or 50 kg. Damn, that sounds like such a low number. But I hope, because when I lost these last 20 kg, I lost most of it from my butt and thighs, that it will continue doing so this time as well. Was that sentence even understandable? I hope I will continue losing most of the fat from my thighs and butt just like before. That's better.

Cause that would be awesome, but I also want to lose more fat all over my body, even on my upper body. I want my collar bones and ribs to show. Not much, but they should be just slightly visible. I wanna be "model thin" but not to be mistaken for an anorectic. Hope you can imagine the difference, even if it's just a difference on 5 kg or less. I'm good at keeping the exact same weight for a longer time period, since I've been on 61 kg for several months now. I only shifted down to 59 kg for a short moment there in July.

I have ambition, motivation and a somewhat clear goal. I have a detailed plan that I can only hope will work. And I'm ready to go at it again, even though I still feel like shit. But maybe that's a good thing. I mean if I do manage to lose weight, that could perk me up a bit. Also exercising tends to make me feel a bit better, even mentally. But then, I'm gonna push myself to the limit so maybe it will just drain me completely. But then I still have my goal to look forward to, a light in the end of the tunnel.

I need to reach that goal, I need it for self esteem, a better body image and finding some kind of beauty in my body. I know that it's sad, that it requires so drastic methods for me to be able to accept myself, but at least I think it's possible that maybe one day I can accept myself. I do have hopes, dreams and wishes too painful to hold on to, but I do it anyway cause it's simply in my nature to do so. My dreams are not impossible but they are indeed hard to achieve.

But dreams... you need to hold on to them, no matter how painful they are to carry, cause they become your reason to live. Without dreams you would have no goals, no ambitions, nothing to look forward too. I know, because I've been there. Scared shitless with absolutely nothing to live for. And I don't want to end up there ever again. I'm gonna keep fighting, prove myself worthy of the body I sold my soul for. Satan has saved me, I just owe him and I can't get my reward without working for it.

It sounds like a contradiction but it's not. It's just that in order for the magic to work, I need to work for it. He can't magically change my body over night (though I wish) but I believe that he can make my goal possible if I do work for it. That without that reward, I would not be able to reach that goal no matter what I do. It's simple, but not easy.

I might be tricked, I might be fooled. It might not even be possible to sell one's soul. I might be able to reach my goal without the aid of Satan. I can never know for sure, cause that's the thing about religion: all you have is your belief. And my belief is weak, I keep losing it and re-gaining it, losing it again and re-gaining it again. Depends on my current state of mind. The more crazy and or desperate I am for guidance, the more I believe.

Oh... what am I gonna do about my wounds on my arm at the gym? Should I cover them up in bandage for aesthetic reasons or just don't give a damn and just show them? I only have a short sleeved shirt to wear and it would be too hot with long sleeves. Maybe a gauze or something could be a good idea. And if someone asks or tells me I shouldn't work out if I'm injured, I'd just tell the truth that I self harm and just didn't want to show it off.

I have no problem with telling people that, I'm just thinking it might be decent of me to cover it up somehow. People could be disgusted, distracted, worried and what not and I don't want that either. For everyone's convenience, you know. I sort of even look forward to going to the gym again. Cause there are like three different sports or exercise things that I appreciate doing: lifting weights, karate and horse back riding. I see no similarity what so ever between those three, do you?

Anyway, mostly I just look forward to looking and feeling better. If I get used to, or what to say, the gym after having lost all that weight, I might start building muscles then. But one thing at a time. Cause skinny and toned, now that's my dream body. I just remembered that once upon a time (many years ago, long before my transition) my best friend said that my type of guys are the slender ice skating type, guys I would go for. But now, realising that it was that body type I wanted to have myself.

Being kinda gay and a guy myself sometimes makes it hard for me to tell the difference between what kind of guy I want to look like compared to what kind of guy I would want to date. Funny thing though, before transitioning I thought the same about girls, cause I'm kinda straight too. Confusing? You bet!

Now I have a clear image of how I would love to look and still knowing that I might never be able to achieve that. I also know what kind of guys I fall for. Not looks, I almost completely don't give a damn about what guys look like. Though, a pretty face is always nice. With an attractive soul and personality, the rest just follows. Maybe it would be easier to find dates if I look better and have more confidence too. It should be, right? As long as I can remember how to open my sealed heart again, that is. Maybe K would want me if I look better though...

No, I don't think that is the problem. If any, and I hate to say this, the problem is on him. What I mean is that he doesn't seem to be receptive to love. Like he doesn't even care about love or finding a partner. I'm scared of telling you too much, but I've been pondering over that for a while now. That maybe he just can't love me, or anyone else for that matter, and it stings in my heart and mind, thinking that thought.

I don't care much myself these days either. I care about K, my book and my fucked up body, but that's pretty much it. I don't care about my self harm, any of it. I don't care about money, or the whole world around me. I don't care if I slip into a psychosis or depression.

But back on topic. I just really, really hope that losing weight can help reducing my extreme dysphoria and self hatred. Not entirely, most likely, but just to get it down to a tolerable level. Not a day in my entire life have I not had some kind of dysphoria. When I was jealous of the boys of my own age in pre-school, how tough and masculine they were. When I was not allowed to take my shirt off in first or second grade because I was a "girl" and it was inappropriate even though I did not have breasts yet back then.

When the guys in my school class got deeper voices and facial hair and I was so envious. When I got my period and felt like stabbing myself. When I got breasts and wanted to cut them off. When I hated my hips so much that I just had to hide them in any way I possibly could. When I tried to have sex but everything felt wrong. When I came out and hated every inch of my body but couldn't get hormones. My whole life has just been one stressful event of self hatred to another and I just want some fucking peace of mind.

I'm drowning in dysphoria and it's never been this bad before. It really sucks but at the same time I've never been this happy about my body before either. Entirely confusing. I just desperately need to lose that weight and I'm sorry that I'm just going on and on about this, but then again, no one's forcing you to read this. I won't and I don't get offended if you don't care to read it. It's entirely your choice and I respect that fully and completely. And I can just imagine tired eyes and an equally tired voice grunting "ugh, too much didn't listen" and I have full understanding for that, especially since this text became intimidatingly long.

I know I'm basically talking to a wall when writing and posting this, but I don't mind. I just vent and inform you about my life in case you're interested. Just that. So I keep ranting about my poor body image just because I need to vent, really. I appreciate you reading, but as I said, you really don't have to if you don't want to. No pressure, I promise.

I just don't want to hate myself anymore. I don't want to cry myself to sleep or in the shower or cut myself because I hate my body so much. Dysphoria is killing me brutally, constantly, over and over again and I forget that I have never liked my body this much ever before. I don't know how that extreme contradiction is possible, I just know that that's the way it is.

I can't stop writing. I literally can't fucking stop writing. If you didn't believe in such an addiction before, just look at this massive wall of text that never seems to end. Right now, when currently writing this, it seems completely endless to me. The words never stop coming and attacking me, the sentences never stop forming, the chaos within me just won't calm down. I'm looking forward to my next morning run and I'm gonna try to fall asleep a little earlier tonight.

I don't know where he's at, K. I wonder and I worry whenever he's offline after having written something awful somewhere, something that's happened or is happening to him. I worry that he will do something that he can't undo. And I wish I could be there for him, in any way, anything that could possibly help, if only just for a fraction of a second. A look of appreciation, a faint smile, a thank you for being here, a smiley in chat, anything at all. I don't care about how good that will/would make me feel about myself, all I care about is making him feel a little better. Completely selfless, I am. Whether you believe it or not, that's my interpretation.

Is there a limit on how long you can make a blog entry? I just came to think of. I hope not, but this is gonna take up an entire page if not more. I think this might be a new record in longest blog entry ever. Derailing from transsexualism and dysphoria to other things and then back on track again and then back and forth again and again. It's like I only have these things on my mind nowadays.

So, my plans are as follows:
- lose a significant amount of weight to get thin (haters gonna hate)
- possibly build some muscles
- get a hysterectomy
- get SRS in the form of metoidioplasty
- and finally, learn to accept myself after all that

I should feel complete after having checked off everything from that list. Complete as a human being, that is. Can't do much or anything at all about my species dysphoria, that thing about me being demonkin otherkin, you know. Yep, I still believe in that stuff. Fairytales are real, at least they were once upon a time long, long, long before humans stalked the earth. Or they exist in other dimension on the same planet. That is where I came from. Another time, possibly another dimension or a whole other world. It's not unreasonable.

I can't do anything about the fact that I have phantom limbs other than missing a dick. I have such as big bat-like wings (membranous), huge ram-like horns, a tail without fur and long black claws. Sometimes I save my fragile nails out and sharpen them, but they always break, or wear an artificial tail that I made out of pillow filling material and silky, black fabric. It's almost like wearing a packer. But I can, however, do something about my gender dysphoria instead. How come it's so common among otherkin to also be transgender, by the way? It strikes me as odd, yet comforting.

I met another otherkin on tumblr, also a transperson with strange pronouns of choice who also had asperger and believe me I so wanted to reach out and tell them I was trans too, but didn't dare, in case it would spread over tumblr and I don't want that. I'm going stealth there and I want to keep it that way. But sometimes I just want to reach out, you know. I told them though, that I was supportive of them being trans, and figured that was the best I could do without outing myself.

Something that's been bothering me, is transsexuals who are basically against other transgender identified people. Like what the fuck? We fall under the same umbrella term! Some people call those people "truscum" and they just kinda scare me. Cause you'd think that someone who has any kind of trans background/identity would be more accepting of other people in the same fucking situation. But no... apparently not. Society, what are you doing to people?

I wish I wasn't trans though, and I hate to admit it, but sometimes I frown upon people who take pride in being trans. I'm horrible, okay? Cause I just can't understand why anyone would find any kind of peace in being born as the wrong sex. Like what, do they find it interesting that they are different? I don't know, I honestly don't know or understand it. Cause as a transsexual I only want to be male and only male through and through. Cause that's what I am, on the inside. I would die, kill, repeat and repeat for a completely male body and to be cisgendered.

My only hope is that someday, if I reach my goal, I will be masculine enough to actually be able to identify myself as a cis-guy even though I wasn't born such.

Damn... I've written 6500 words of this kind of nonsense today... and finally, finally I'm out of words.

Driving me mad

TMI again...

I cut for a lot of reasons, but mostly it's because of my self hatred, how disgusted I am with myself and my body. It never really occurred to me before, why I feel so damn disgusted by myself when I masturbate, except the reason why I started. To punish myself for the sexual assault I went through when I was 9. Yeah, I started right after that and used it as a punishment. Anyway, the other reason is my dysphoria. And I know it's bad when I feel the need to self harm right after because of how disgusted I feel.

When I was about 15 or so, I tried to find help online on how to stop touching yourself, but there was absolutely nothing I could find about it. It's not physically harmful, but I do or did do it as a form of punishment and it was and is almost like an addiction that makes me hate myself even more. That's not a healthy way to discover your own body. That's not the way it's supposed to be. I needed to stop, but I couldn't. I still can't.

It brings so many negative feelings and I just... I don't know. It's horrible that I have to feel that way about something that's supposed to make you feel good, not the other way around. Because my body disgusts me and what it can make me feel, sexually, disgusts me. I don't wanna feel that, and if I could make myself never ever being able to feel that again, I would. Is it weird, that I hate that one feeling that so many describe as one of the best feelings in the world? Am I that fucked up?

It's awful, that my self hatred runs so deep that I literally hate feeling horny. That my body's lust makes me hate myself more. I don't know why for sure, but I think it's connected to that sexual assault. It sparked that lust as much as I hate to admit it. I didn't like being assaulted, of course, but something inside me sparked nonetheless, and that was why I punished myself. That is probably why I hate it so much. I hate that I crave that orgasm, that I can't let it be, that I can't stop.

And I try to see it for what it actually is: healthy, normal and good. At least that's what I've been told, but it just doesn't apply to me. I think that is why I'm asexual, or close to being asexual. That I'm just too damaged to be able to enjoy having sex, with myself and others. Three people fucked me up so badly that I can't enjoy that. I do feel the lust, the attraction and I do get aroused, unlike most actual asexual's, it's just that I'm too damn broken to be able to appreciate it. It's been ruined.

And I don't think it can ever be fixed. I hope it someday can, but I don't think so. It's a little bit easier with a partner, unless they suck and there's no spark at all. Or if I'm too drunk or drugged to know what I'm doing. So now maybe you can understand why I hate that testosterone increases my sex drive. I thought it was gonna calm down after a while, like a few months after the first shot. But now, one year after the first shot I'm still having that all too high sex drive and it's driving me mad.

I don't know what to do. If maybe there's some kind of medication I could take. I don't know, but I think I've heard of such medication, that it does exist, as some form of chemical castration or whatever. Don't know if I could ever get it if it does exist though. Like if it's something you give to paedophiles and not to overly sexual young adults who hate feeling aroused.

Okay, I just googled it and there is a drug used in Europe for that, but it lessens the testosterone levels in your body so that would not work. It would only be contra-productive, to say the least. I could bring it up with my doctor though, see if they has any advice. Cause it's seriously bothering me which feels kinda weird... Like who the hell has a sex drive but wants to get rid of it?
Maybe there are some kind of techniques I could do to control my "needs" like I don't know, watching pictures of disgusting things, put ice on my crotch or whatever. I really have weird problems... But they're there, and some of them I can take care of or make milder in some way. More tolerable. "Deal with it" is not a good advice. But yeah, I might be able to find a way around it, eventually. Who knows, maybe the surgery could make that better too? If then maybe I won't be so disgusted by myself. I can hope, at least.

Desperately doing anything

It's just that it's so unfair, you know. That I see transguys before testosterone who look more masculine than I do one year on testosterone. Most of them look like super masculine after that long on hormones while I'm here, swagging my big butt and complaining like a brat. So unfair... My genes were really bad and I can't do anything about it.

But I'm trying, like really trying to see what's good instead. That I have wide shoulders and I'm not super short. Like I've seen other transguys who are like 5 feet (150 cm) tall and that can't be so fun for them. Or that I have a sort of masculine face except from my kinda weak chin. I like my thick eyebrows, deep set eyes, big bumpy nose and thin lips. Those are all typically masculine features. It's likely that my hairline won't recede. I like my hands and my legs from knees down. That I've lost so much weight that I'm somewhere between skinny and medium in size. That my chest is flat and looks nice.

There are a lot of things that I do like and I just wish that I could stop fucking obsessing about my damn ass. It's not the whole world even though it's as big as the whole world. You know what I'm saying? I'm saying get the fuck over myself. I'm gonna get a full body size mirror and do some self esteem exercises or whatever. Just as some weird form of therapy. I've heard other people doing that and it's worked for them. Cause shit I need to work on my self esteem, cause honestly, it can't get much worse.

I don't really have a problem with the size of my bone structure, which is good cause I can't change that. No, my problem is all the fat around there that just won't move somewhere else, preferably to my waist and upper body in general. A wider waist would even it out, you know, cause it's still kinda small, but that is my rib cage being tiny though.

I dream of that they would somehow include liposuction as a part of the treatment for transsexualism for transmen. That I wouldn't have to cough up thousands of kronor for it myself. Why is it not included? I was worried about this happening already before my transition and I know a lot of transmen that would have loved that idea as much as I do. Because some of us simply have sucky genes and oh my god can I stop going on and on about this?!

Apparently not. It's just nagging at my lack of self esteem and it just ruins so much. All I can do is covering it up with clothes but what about when I'm naked? What about how it feels, how uncomfortable I get when I see it? What about being intimate with someone and feeling like shit cause it drowns me in dysphoria and I can't even concentrate on having a good time with that person whoever it may be? What about taking a shower and feeling like I wanna throw up? What about being constantly scared of not passing because of it? What about enjoying life?

Sure I got a million other reasons to hate my life, but body dysphoria is fucking the worst thing ever. Cause I carry this carcass wherever I go, sit or lie down. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second and I'm constantly reminded of how it fucks everything up. Can you understand my pain? Cause I can't.

I'm gonna start trying to lose weight again, but I don't know how. Walk, run, starve, eat good food, skip everything with sugar in except from my coffee. Because coffee is good to keep the hunger from killing me. Because just taking walks and eating salad apparently isn't enough. I'm gonna do my fucking best, weigh myself every day, take measurements and count calories. I'll start tomorrow. Cause I've had it with this body fat and this horrible dysphoria.

Yeah, I'm desperate and currently kinda hungry too. I had a simple piece of bread (can't really call it a sandwich) about three hours ago and I'm getting cravings for more but suddenly my appetite fell to zero. I'm gonna try to lose at least 5 more kg and more if I'm still not skinny all over by then. Not just on my upper body and lower legs. I need to be skinny around my critical area as well. Even if that makes me super skinny on the rest of me. Bones poking out everywhere, I don't care as long as I get that damn fat off my ass.

Then maybe, maybe I can accept myself. So much work for the hell in my mind, so much work for massive dysphoria. As I started out slightly over weight and curvy with a female voice and almost no body hair. But here I am now and I need to tip over from very feminine to rather masculine. A lot of work is required. I need it, I need it so much it's almost worth dying for. It's worth eating disorders, malnourishment, exercising to the point of fainting, it's even worth going to gym with so much anxiety that I'll almost faint from that too.

I'll take pills for my anxiety prior to going to the gym, I don't care about how much that could fuck up my body. I'll get a decent circadian rhythm again so that I can go out running in the morning, skip breakfast, have a salad for lunch and a tiny sandwich for supper, drink a lot of water and go to the gym two or three times a week. In a month or so, I should see some result. And I need to start before the winter, can't go out running in the snow.

Yeah, I truly am desperate now. I just need to do something, anything. No matter what it takes, I can't give up. Just can't. My goal is to be on 55 or 50 kg before Christmas and to not regain that weight over Christmas. That would leave me on approximately 18 in BMI. It's underweight, but not dangerously so. I know you don't think I need to lose more weight, but honestly? I don't care what you think.

I want to be able to say "finally, for once in my life I'm happy with my weight" and just that. It would be nice, that if I can somehow manage to get to the gym and start working out there again, I could get some kind of extra allowance for it. They mentioned that, someone, somewhere in some context, because of my asperger and disability. Sometimes it's kinda sweet to be disabled... and please don't take that the wrong way.

I'm not sure exactly what I wanna do at the gym though, cause I don't know if lifting weights is good for losing weight. But just getting sweaty would be. Maybe if I use lighter weights with more repetitions that would be more fat burning? I seriously don't know... but the exercise bike would be practical, and maybe the cross trainer too. Mostly I'd be running though, build up that condition and burn fat like crazy. I really hate running, but it's the most effective method I can think of. Oh my god I'm so gonna hate this...

Self acceptance, a journey

My hips are narrow enough for me to pass now, I think. They're still wide and look far more female than male, but it's a big difference to how it was before. Sad thing though, something that's been bothering me for a while, is that they are wider now on testosterone than they were when I was about 16-17 years old and weighed the same as I do now. I was thinner then, could have size small in men's clothing but now I'm at medium. So I must have filled out in some way.

Could be either my bones that grew more in my later teens before testosterone, cartilage changing, more muscles now or just that... I dunno, I am bigger now on 60 kg than I was back then on 60 kg and frankly I don't understand how that is even possible. So I wanna lose more weight to get down to that size again, even if that means losing 10 more kg. Eventually... I'm not in a rush anymore, and I still think that I should try to accept my body the way it is, gain some confidence or something.

I don't know, but I think watching some videos on youtube by another transguy sort of made me start thinking in that direction. Because he is handsome, has wide hips and doesn't give a damn what people think of his larger butt. It's inspirational. I've been looking for transguys like him, someone with a similar body shape as mine but looks good and is proud of himself. It hasn't been easy, almost impossible, but then he showed up on my computer screen.

Sometimes I even google for pictures of men (both cis and trans) with wider hips. To see if it's even possible to look good with such a figure. It's sad, but I think I could get more attractive if I lost a little more weight. I don't like to conform to society's standards of beauty, but in that particular case, they correspond with my own standards. But only for myself.

I wouldn't able to love, or even stand myself if I was over weight or fat. But others... now that is an entirely different thing. Fucking entirely. I've found people of literally all sizes attractive because it's not the amount of body fat that decides if someone is attractive or not. It only applies to me and I think I know why. It's because that is literally the only thing I can change in my appearance body wise. I've done all else, well almost, through hormones and surgery. One more left to do but I'm talking about my body as a whole.

I can't change the way my body looks through just wishing, I can't really exercise because it's boring, frustrating and I get anxiety from going to the gym. So what is left to do but losing weight and hoping for miracles? The miracle would be total fat redistribution so that I have straight hips and a small butt. Or get money enough to get a liposuction. Keep. On. Dreaming. Seriously.

But I ask myself, why can't I be happy about the changes that I've already gotten? Why, because it's not enough? It is the best thing that's happened to my body, but I'm too greedy for my own good. My shoulders are in fact wider than my hips now. Not by much, but about 5 cm in circumference. It is a huge thing, yet I'm just complaining.

I'm whining because I still can't wear the clothes I want to wear and still pass. I'm whining because I hate seeing myself naked. This androgynous male/female body that just won't tip over to fully male. Just hoping that if I can get some more beard growth I'll be able to pass no matter how huge my ass is. I'm not thinking a full beard a la Jesus, just something, whatever. Play with it and see what could suit me. Yeah, I'm longing for having some proper facial hair, but I know I'm getting there. I already have more than a lot transguys ever get. I think that is at least something I have good genes for...

It's not all bad, I've gotten enough changes to stay the fuck alive, but I need to realise that I've also gotten enough changes to live. There's a difference, and I've been complaining enough already. So I don't look like a model and probably never will, but I can be handsome in my own way, right?

And with my acne finally decreasing I'm starting to like my face better too. Hopefully I'll be forever rid of all that horrible acne now. A little, that I can stand, but all those icky blotches really depressed me before. It was so bad I barely wanted to get out of the house. I've had acne in various degrees of ickiness since I was about 12 years old and even though I've kinda learnt to accept it, I still hope that I will get rid of it completely or almost completely one day. So that the redness in my face can finally calm down and bleach over time.

So, back on topic. Could I ever accept my body, all of it, the way it is? I do already accept and even like most of it. It's just that area from my stomach to my knees that I'm not quite okay with. I even like things that a lot of transguys don't like about themselves. Like I like my height, the size of my hands and feet (though it's hard finding decent shoes and socks sometimes), my nose, eyebrows and so on.

And I don't hate myself just because I'm not masculine enough. The hatred to my hip area has been with me for as long as I can remember. When I was in pre-school and couldn't fit into children's carts and whatever, but my younger sister could so much longer than I could cause I had a bigger frame. I hated how they were in the way of everything, my wide hips. I was literally born that way, it didn't come to me in puberty. I've hated them for my entire life more than anything else on my entire body, long before I even knew that they were connected to femininity.

That hatred runs so deep, I don't know how I can possible erase or manage it. It feels like I need to find another person who could help me with that. Someone who would find me attractive or just love me anyway. Cause I think that would help. As of now... I don't know if I could show you with pictures or anything, I don't have a full body mirror I could use. The only time I can see all of me mirrored is in shopping windows and such.

I think I might need a full body mirror again, so that I can look at it and get used to what I'm seeing in it. Try different clothes and angles, dressed and naked as some form of therapy or I don't know. I don't think I have body dysmorphic disorder like I thought before, I just have so incredibly much dysphoria. More than most other transsexuals seem to have. It's because I know that that dysphoria can be relieved, obviously, through hormones and surgery as a lot of it already has.

I know that because my chest dysphoria almost completely washed away over three hours at an operating table. Because my ugly legs suddenly weren't that ugly anymore when they got hairier and the same goes for my stomach. Because my voice was no longer absolutely horrible when it dropped. Because my face wasn't as stupid looking once my jaw widened and got some facial hair.

Every little thing has been an improvement, turning a disaster into an okay mess. My body had a long way, a very long way from where it was four years ago to becoming decent looking. It's like if it was at 0 to begin with and 100 is perfect, I'd say I'm somewhere around 60-70 now, and that is quite an upgrade. I don't mean that my body was the most horrible thing on earth by setting it at 0, it's just a sliding scale and maybe the most horrible body on earth would be -100? Don't know who's body that would be though, but likely someone who is horribly disfigured, I don't know.

It's hard for me to measure beauty, cause I see it everywhere, even in the strangest of places and the strangest people. I barely even know what would be beauty on me. I don't know what I could look good in, or how I will look once testosterone is done changing my body. That's at least another two years, maybe even more. Like facial hair takes a lot of time, just like it does for cis-males in their puberty. The difference really isn't that big.

I'm realistic when it comes to the next surgery I wanna do. I know that it won't take care of all my problems, I know it won't be drastically life changing and make me a happy person. But it will lessen my dysphoria, change life in small ways and make me feel a bit better about myself. It will give me what I want and need, simple as that.

It's still kinda mindfucking for me that me and Anna changed positions. Like, before my transition I was male in our female body and she was the cisgendered among us, her being female in our female body. And now, or soon, I'm male in our now male body and she's the transgendered cause she's still female but in our now male body.

But I've been thinking about that, that when I'm done with my transition (though I'll always take hormones for the rest of my life) will I somehow become cisgendered? That would be a dream of mine, cause no matter how cool you guys may think it is that I'm trans, I really don't. I want to be cis just like you, and this transdeal was never a choice of mine. In case you don't know "cisgendered" just means that you're not trans. Changing my body was/is something I had/have to do in order to go on living. So if I'd ever become "male enough" to be considered cisgendered, that would be breath taking.

I mean it, seriously. It's not just about passing though, but about my own comfort. To be able to feel at home in my own body. I don't think any transgendered individual truly enjoys theing trans, at least not transsexuals. We have no wish to be trans, if we did, we would probably not undergo surgery and take hormones. We claim our rights as people, to be seen as human beings and not as freaks. We want to be seen for the people we really are, underneath the skin, not for what our bodies may or may not look like. We don't want to be fetishes or someone's "exception" cause we're exotic or whatever. I'm just saying that we want to be recognised for who we are, not what we are.

Now I can't speak for every transsexual on the entire planet, some do take pride in it, I don't know. It's different for everyone, but that is the general idea. It's how I see it and it's how many others that I've come across see it. That we just want to be accepted and respected, and I think every human being, trans or not, can agree with that. Though I know I should be careful when speaking for a whole folk group or the entire human race for that matter.

Damn, I'm just babbling for all eternity again and I think I've gotten quite stuck on the trans deal again. I've written nearly 3800 words now, in a little more than 6 hours... I might not be the fastest typer, but I sure do spew out a lot of words in no time. I was even away from the computer for about an hour in that time. So technically I've only been writing all of this in 5 hours.

Nah, I think it's time to go back to my book again. Catcha later.

Searching for love in all the wrong places

I just know that everything will fall apart again, I can feel it all the way into my bones, all the way into my broken soul. It's not depression, at least I don't think so, but I don't know what else it could be. Nothing's happened, nothing new, nothing old. It's just been steadily getting worse for no apparent reason since the beginning of August. Since before I wrote my book, sometime during the Medieval Week I suppose, or even before that.

It could be about my lovesickness. That it just became harder again. To be around him and trying to figure out what to say and do. How to hide it, how to reveal it and everything else too. How to live with it, as it's eating at me. Slowly suffocating me until all I can do is to gasp for air. I know what that's like now, how it feels to literally gasp for air because you literally can't breathe, and I know what I'm talking about when I say that it feels that way. To be suffocated by a love you can't have.

Well, not as of now at least. You might have noticed that I shift between thinking there is hope and thinking there is not. That some days I desperately believe that we could actually end up together, while other days I just feel that it's unrequited and it will never happen. That I can never be with him in that way, will never feel his touch or his lips pressed against mine, that he will never look me in the eyes and say "I love you".

Because he doesn't love me, never have and never will. That I will die alone, clutching at my dying hopes and broken dreams that were never stable enough to begin with. Cutting myself to pieces, drowning everything in alcohol, starving myself to more madness and never wanting to sleep or get out of bed again. And when my emotional suicide is completed I go for the real deal. I can see two futures, where one is bright and lively, and the other is filled with sorrow, pain and death.

And it all depends on him. It's so cruel of me, that I literally put my life into his unknowing hands. I keep it secret so that he will never know, if I do end up killing myself because he doesn't want me. I want to be able to go on living if he rejects me, I want it more than anything, but I just don't think I could survive it. That whatever I want, my will and wishes can't be fulfilled.

Cause I still believe that I've been cursed to eternal suffering and pain. Agony, self destruction and to wither away into an unknown emptiness. That I will go on living, for as long as I can, until there's nothing left but pain, until I can't stand it anymore. Until I'm rejected by life itself and I'll give up on love, of ever being loved by a nice person who I can love back. A nice person, being the operative words here. Cause I've been loved and have loved in return, just once, but the relationship turned into an abusive disaster and as horrible as it became, the first few months of that relationship was the best time of my life.

K will always be the love of me life, I'm sure of it, even if he could never love me back. I want him to know what I feel for him, but if he rejects and I kill myself, he will know that it was because of him. I just can't do that to him. I don't want to put that incredible pain on his conscience, that kind of terrible guilt it would bring him. Not just that he would lose a close friend, but that if only he would have given me a chance, I would still have been alive.

No, I just can't do that, but I need for him to know however it's gonna turn out. I might kill myself and say in a suicide note that it was for other reasons, lie to protect him. One last act of kindness and care. I will give it a few months tops, then if nothing's happened, I will tell him.

He's told me several times now that he thinks that if someone's interested in him they should just tell him that, but I don't think he understand how hard that is for me. It's so hard that it gives me panic- and or anxiety attacks, it interrupts me deeply and hurts like glass shards ripping and tearing inside me. It hurts like nothing else.

I'm terrible at flirting, especially with someone over chat. Someone that I can't see face to face that often because of how far away we live from each other. But I think that sooner or later, I will have to tell him over chat. That hurts too, it hurts because it wouldn't be good enough for me. He can't hug me to tell me that it's a no but he still cares for me. He can't take my hand and say that it's a yes.

My love for him is tearing me to pieces and I know that the only way for this to possibly end is to tell him. It could make it better or vastly worse. It could take me to heaven or bring me down to hell. How can I possibly know before hand? But I do know. I know that the likeliness of him taking my hand and whisper that he wants to give me a chance is under 25% and that the risk of him giving me sympathetic hug and tell me no is above 75%.

He's made no indications, other than talking to me almost every day, it's even become less of that lately. I don't know, it could be because he's not feeling so well, that he shies away from any human connection. Or that he's giving up on me. Gah, I just need to know. My heart is beating faster at just the thought of telling him. It's the hardest decision I can ever make, how can I even possibly tell him?

Should I keep on hinting until he hopefully gets it, or should I just spill it out? Something close to the painful truth, something like "I like you, more than just as a friend, would you give me a chance?" I have to ask that question, or something similar so that I know for sure.

But I feel it in my heart, that he would be a little vague but still clear, like "I don't know, John" and then get out of the conversation as fast as possible. That I would make him uncomfortable and he would not know how to politely tell me no. I doubt he would take off, as long as I keep it simple and not spill out something like "I'm completely in love with you and I've been for one and a half year, do you love me too?" cause that would likely scare him off. I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst case scenario, but I don't think it's gonna be quite that bad.

I think he already suspects it. As he has hinted at it, hinted that I should just tell him straight out, so that is what I'm gonna do. But if he's not interested, why is he so keen on wanting to know? There's so much I can't understand. It's indeed a tricky situation that I don't know how to handle in an appropriate way. Everyone is different and I can't possibly apply what I did and said to my first and second boyfriend as we ended up together. First of all, I don't and can't see K that often in real life, but I've been flirting through chat with other people with it leading somewhere, so it's not impossible.

I'm thinking myself crazy again tonight and I can't stop the thoughts even if I wanted to. I think I need to think it through, somehow plan around it. Somehow know how to handle this very delicate situation. Cause I'm not good at handling delicate situations of any kind. I'm clumsy and my asperger gets in the way. I can only hope that it turns out well, I can only hope...

Tonight I'm desperate. Tonight I'm thinking, rambling the same thoughts over and over again until my head will explode. I'm not ready to tell him, I don't think I'll ever be.

Hormone changes

More trans stuff. I've now been on testosterone for a little more than one year and fiiinally my acne is decreasing. Haven't notice much more far redistribution though I suppose I have to lose more weight for that to notice. I dunno. Getting all the more facial hair though, more upwards to my cheeks and I'm getting a tiny little soul patch that I can't shave because there's a piercing in the bloody way of it. So sooner or later I'm gonna have myself a soul patch, haha.

Also it's getting thicker and darker. I have very dark body hair in general (almost black), especially on my stomach, for some reason. Getting chest hair too, since not long after the surgery. Didn't have any indications of such hair growth before, so I can't help but wonder if there's a connection or a coincidence. Slowly and steadily, I think I'm becoming a cave man or something. Seriously, I never thought I would turn out quite this hairy...

My voice has not changed at all in these last six or seven months now, so it's decided to stay the way it is now. According to my mother, I apparently sound much like my father. Of course I wished to get an even deeper voice, but I'm not really complaining. I like my voice now, which is quite an upgrade from literally hating it, when it was female. My voice dropped years ago, fall 2010 when I self medicated. Then it dropped a little bit more when I got the real stuff last year, but mostly it just stabilised.

Is there anything more? Well, for the TMI part (cause I'm so good at it lately) it's still growing down there, which is to me kinda fascinating. Like how much bigger can I get? It's interesting... and important for the surgery I kinda wanna do. The bigger I am the better the result of it. Yeah, I still wanna do it, but I'm gonna handle that thought the way I was thinking right before I got my tattoo. Holding on to the thought that if I still want to have it in a month? In two months? In three months? And so on, until the time comes. It's just as much a permanent thing really, so I think it could be comparable that way.

Also, I did get more energy from when I started with testosterone. It's hard for me to really, uhm, notice the changes since I already had permanent changes from my first round of self medicating in 2010-2011. Like my voice and body hair.

But anyways, it's been a blast and the best thing that's ever happened to my body, except from the acne and extreme sex drive. Like oh my goood it's insane! And I have no one to do it with... as if I wanted to. I mean I can always find some other creep online if I was desperate enough (like that last time), but I'm not and I'm in love. Somehow that would be like I'd be unfaithful to him, if I go for another person, you know.

And I don't wanna be with anyone else than him. If not to mention my dysphoria that would be an instant problem with a perfect stranger. Someone who might not know how to handle an FtM. And not many people do, very few have had actual sexual experiences with FtM's. And also, every transguy is different in bed, so it probably wouldn't help much anyway.

Anyway. Some people say that you don't get any psychological changes from taking hormones, but that's not true in my case. I can't cry, or I couldn't for a whole year until recently, and that just must be from the hormones. I've sort of "toughened up" in lack of better words, cause I'm not actually "tougher" I just seem that way. Like I have that asperger thing that I can't show emotions, it's like it's become more like that.

That it could just be me and my personal development, but I don't think so. It changed the first time I was on testo, it changed back when I stopped and it changed again when I started again. Coincidence? I think not. I'm just rambling... it's half past four in the morning, you're not getting any more sense out of me tonight...

What's eating at me

It's that one thing, that one memory I can never confess about. It feels weird today. It hurts, but in a surreal way. Like I still can't accept what I did, and I don't think I ever will. It's not exactly something you should accept either, so I guess I'm good in that sense. According to politically correct people, if they found out, they would never forgive. They would never understand and they would definitely not accept. It's unacceptable, unforgivable and just horrible. Hurting people is not okay, even if it was me behind the deed. Even if I was just a kid.

I'm thinking maybe I should tell my shrink later on, I don't know, in a year or so maybe. Cause I'm not comfortable enough around her yet and I want to be able to give all the details, including Anna. So have to wait until I've gotten my gender legally changed first. Second of all, it's not exactly something you just spill out on the go. I don't know how I would say it. I don't even remember everything, just fragments of the event. I don't remember how it began or how it ended.

Most likely I'd start with how it all started, that I got molested when I was nine and then shit happened. A lot of shit, including the crime I did was because of that. It just fucked me up sevenfold and I'm still pretty fucked up, but perhaps not in the same way.

I don't know, I still have Anna, obviously, but I haven't done any more crimes like that. Other crimes, though, but not quite as fucked up. It's a little why I thought I was a sociopath before, cause kids doing stuff like that are just not fucking normal. Most of the crimes I've done I committed when I was under and around 10 years old. I don't know why, just that I had no respect what so ever of other people's properties. So yeah, mostly I just stole shit and stuff like that. Vandalised too.

No, I never really got caught. Once or twice maybe, but then they just yelled at me and made me promise not to do it again. As if I wouldn't. Maybe people took it so lightly because I to them was a girl when I grew up. And everyone knows that girls don't do that stuff, right?

I'm not much for doing crimes cause it's fun or anything, I'm just disrespectful and hate rules/laws. I have a little of a "I do whatever I want" kinda attitude going on. But the older I get, the more careful I get. Now I'm mostly just smoking where I'm not allowed to. Cause seriously, there really are a lot of places I'm not allowed to smoke and very, very few where I am. So I just say fuck that shit.

Talking about rules, do you think they would kick me out of school if I don't follow their rules? I dunno, maybe some rules are more strict than others. Like maybe if I smoke close to the entrance outdoors they won't kick me out but they might if I smoke indoors. Yeah, I'll ponder on that...

I've only done two really horrible crimes in my life. Which I regret a lot, but don't know if that even helps, cause it doesn't help those I've hurt. Regret doesn't undo anything, no matter how much I wish it could. That, I can wear I won't ever do again. Super promise.

About the crime I meant to talk about without talking about, no one knows about it. It never left the room it took place in and I believe there are still only two people in this world who knows about it, and one of them would be me. Though, the other person doesn't seem to remember it, so maybe I'm the only one who really knows...

Compared to fantasy

A few days or so ago, I took a midnight walk under the full moon. Kinda nice, huh? Except that I felt vastly unimpressed. People always say that nature is so beautiful and enchanting or whatever. But I'm not impressed by it. At all. Especially not when I don't feel so good. I'm unimpressed by nature on Earth because I keep comparing it with Naor.

Dancing and vibrating colours, fields of plant species you could not possibly imagine, forests so thick and literally alive. Cause every living thing, including flowers and trees had a soul, a persona of sorts. Not like animals, but there was certainly something truly special about them. The way they followed your movements or gasped in the wind.

When I was a child I used to try to find that in the nature in this world. Heard stories about fairies and trolls and what not, thinking that maybe it wasn't as dull as it seemed, if only I would look closer. I'm not saying that I stopped believing, but I never found any real magic in these forests. It was a disappointment, and I realised that this world really is dull.

When you have a real fantasy world so vivid to compare this planet to, not something you've read or seen in a movie, but from first hand experiences... this world, it loses all colour and fascination. It becomes so dull you don't even get impressed by Grand Canyon or the rain forests. It saddens me, that nothing in this world is beautiful enough. But I do see beauty, just not in nature. I see it in people and some animals. In what actually is alive on this planet.

People may gasp at the incredible view of a sunset while I yawn, but I gasp when I see K, or whomever I happen to be in love with at the time being. I have no love for nature, but I sure have for human beings. I notice though, that is saddens me that I can't appreciate nature when I'm around my family and they really do appreciate it. We don't understand each other at all when it comes to that.

It's like I want to be able to appreciate it, but I just can't. I know I'm not the only one feeling like that though, like a lot of people prefer city life instead. But I don't really like that either. Cities are dirty, smelly and too noisy for me. So what do I like? Well, the only settings I think I can really appreciate is indoors. Where it's warm and cosy, at least somewhat clean and I have everything I need there.

So yeah, I'm a true indoors person, so it's not so strange I don't even like going outside for even a minute. It's alright during the two or three months of summer though, because it's warm and bright. Otherwise, I'd rather just stay indoors.

So it's not that I'm depressed or anything because I don't want to leave my apartment, I'm just not impressed by the world outside of it. I have never been. The only reason I like to travel is because of seeing other people. Or changing to other indoors settings.

Does that make me terribly dull? I'm not much of an adventurous person that way, though those of you who know me, know that I appreciate other kinds of adventure. It feels weird, like yeah, I grew up on the country side but I hated every second of it. I truly did, haha. I suppose it's rare, to not be the slightest moved by the supposed beauty of nature. Sure I like looking at it sometimes, for a few seconds before I'm bored again.

I wish I could though, find beauty in it. That I could stop comparing it to Naor somehow. But it is what it is. I like people and I like cats, not trees and twittering birds. So I surround myself with what I do like instead. At the best of my ability, I should add. I'm picky when it comes to people, and I'm close to being a misanthrope, and the few that I do like live at least 100 miles away from me. So yeah, life gets kinda lonely. But better that than bad company, better that than being out in the nature.

Coming out stories

I realised that I never really came out to my parents. That sounds way more horrible than it was/is. I never said "I'm transsexual, call me John" or anything like that. I just gradually discussed it with my mother over a very long time period (years). I let her be a part of my self discovery. I only came out to my mother among my family members, because I trusted her to tell my father and sister. I just couldn't stomach it, once I had realised and changed name and pronouns.

Then I've discussed it a little with my sister, she had some questions and stuff like that. I think she's the one in my family who has taken it best. Likely because she's the youngest and interested in odd things so I think she thought it was a little exciting. She was the one who learned to use the right name and pronouns first. It took about two years for my mother and I don't think I've ever heard my father refer to me by either name or any pronouns. Don't know how he even manages that. And before you say it, I don't want to know how they refer to me when I'm not around. That goes to everyone I've come out to, by the way. If you're talking about me behind my back, just keep it that way.

Some people, I don't even know if they are aware of the fact that I'm trans. Like the crew, do they know? They treat me like a guy and I've never gotten any questions about it. Either they're just as stealth as I am or they don't know. At school, when I was there last winter, I wasn't sure either who knew or didn't know. I let my sister write an essay about me for a school project when she went to that school and I didn't, but I don't know if that spread or anything. It was years ago now, so I don't think that information is left there anymore. If the teachers know, I'm pretty sure they're not interested in telling the students.

I did however come out the traditional way to my best friend and some other friends, but I also let it spread like a rumour as well. Mark my words: I let it. I don't even know exactly what my friends have been saying to each other about me, if there's even a grasp of truth, but I just trust them, you know. That they wouldn't say anything really gross and mean about me. I've been asked weird questions but I'm fine with that. I don't have and have never had a problem with being completely honest about the details regarding my transition.

You should consider yourself lucky that I'm such an open transperson, cause that is fucking rare. I mean really rare. I haven't met one other transperson who is comfortable talking about the stuff that I'm comfortable talking about, and I've met quite a bunch. Online and in real life. I don't know, maybe twenty or thirty people with some kind of trans background or identity and most of them are or were transsexual. "Were" as in they've transitioned and don't identify themselves as trans anymore, not that they changed their minds or something, just to be clear.

I don't know if I'll come out again, to a new person or group of people. I don't have to, unless there will be any situation where that might be important, like I don't know, locker rooms after gym class perhaps. In such situations I'm more comfortable letting people know than I am hiding myself. I want them to be okay with it, so that I can shower or whatever. I have literally never taken a shower in a men's locker room. Yeah once, but it was after school hours and I was with someone there... oops. One of my escapades that you might or might not have wanted to know about.

I want to though, be able to take a shower after working out or whatever, without having to hide my body and or risking being attacked. In Sweden, there are only or almost only a big room with lots of showers with absolutely no privacy what so ever, if you didn't know. So if I'd want to take my boxers off in such a place, the other guys need to be well prepared, if you catch my drift.

If I haven't done the surgery by then of course. And if the surgery turns out well, I will look like a cis-guy. Sort of, I mean I wouldn't get any weird looks. I would pass naked. A bit why I wanna do it. Not because of locker rooms though, but in general, you know. I wouldn't set my foot in a women's locker room, and frankly, I don't think they would want me there. Not anymore, haha.

Shit, it's like I'm making every other blog entry with like loads of TMI nowadays. Sorry if I'm making your eyes bleed from images in your head now or something. Haha, I'm just too open for my own good. Deal with it, okay?

Anyways, I don't really think there will be much of that coming out stuff in the future, except for if I end up in a relationship with someone who did not know about it already from before. Like K does, no need to come out to him. He knows, and he's always known. Don't think I've mentioned that before? Because it's never been an issue to either of us, for as long as we've known each other, and that would be what, about four years now?

I seriously don't remember exactly how and when we met. Which is to me a little embarrassing, and I can't help but wonder if maybe he remembers what I don't. I wasn't into him back then, that took me a few years until I started, you know, seeing him from another angle or what to say. Sadly, it was because I realised that we have a lot in common, like music taste, interests, personality and what not. Why is that sad? Cause I wish I wasn't that superficial.

But then I learned that I also accept, even love, our differences. That comes with some amount of depth at least. And not long after that, I fell in love with him, in May 2013. It's almost one and a half year ago and I've never, ever been in love with someone for that long before. He's really something... So there it is, our "history" or what to say. Though I've left a lot of things out, but still. I'm not gonna tell what I left out simply because that would not be okay for either him or me.

Besides, the whole world doesn't need to know exactly everything. It's true though, what I've said. That I'm completely out to him, that I don't remember how and when we met and this entry was supposed to be about coming out but then I derailed and started yapping about K again... Sorry about that.

I don't really have much more to say about coming out. Oh, I did come out officially to my school class in gymnasium, 2010 I think. They all knew me as a girl back then and I started living as the true me mid term, so to say, so I had to come out to them. Nooo, it was in March 2009, my god do I not even keep track of when I started living as the true me?! Seriously, my memories tend to fuck with me about a whole lot of things. Years and dates just blur, no matter how important they are to me. God damn it.

I started going to that gender psychiatrist or whatever their title was, in September 2009, so obviously I came out before then... And I got my diagnosis sometime during 2010, they never told me, I just saw it on a doctor's recommendation note for my allowance one day. GID, asperger and mild depression, it said. I had to look it up cause I didn't understand what it meant.

But okay, that's all I have to say about my coming out stories, before I derail again and start talking about my whole transition history from there on which I've already written down but I cut it out. Oh, well. Bye bye for now.