Okay, a little TMI-warning:
Can someone please remind me to not ever masturbate when I have a searing headache? Cause I think my head just exploded with extreme pain and I feel like crying and puking.
Oh damn... and then that pain in my stomach again. My reproductive organs slowly dying in there. It hurts the most right after orgasm because things contract in there and it tumbles around or something. Pain, is there nothing left but pain?
I still have that binder-like girdle from the hospital, and now it comes to use again as I strap it tightly around my hurting stomach, instead of pressing my hands on it. It helps a little. It feels like I'm literally dying to have that hysterectomy and take it all away in there. Because it's causing me this horrible pain that I don't know how much longer I can stand. I'm thinking maybe I could send my mother to somehow contact RR and ask them to hurry the fuck up with changing my legal gender so that I can get that hysterectomy ASAP, cause this isn't tolerable.
Just because it feels like menstruation pain I just know that it's those things causing me pain and not something else in my stomach. And everything else, it's exactly what I've heard from other transguys in the same situation, I'm not the only one who gets this sort of pain. I'm just bothered by the fact that I'm one of those who got it, cause not everyone gets it.
My god... isn't it like the saddest thing that the best painkiller I could find was to cut myself? Though the relief was fucking worth dying for. As long as I'm not cutting too deep I really don't see any problem with it. I've never cut too deep during all this time, this last decade, that I've been an on and off cutter.
Ten years, ten thousand scars or more. I don't care and it feels good to not care about that. Like a sad sense of freedom, almost. Trouble-freedom. That scars are just scars, and blood is just blood. Like primitive medicine, a natural remedy. I glorify it, I romanticise it. I know, shame on me. But to me, it's like the best treatment for anything...
No, the absolute best treatment for everything is kisses. But as of lately and for a long time now, I haven't been getting much of that. I haven't kissed another person in one and a half year, and that time was just for one day and it was one of the worst kisses I've ever had. Some people are just so terribly bad at it I think they should just stop kissing altogether.
It's true though, that kisses really are the best. Isn't that kinda sweet, in a way? That just feeling someone's lips pressed against mine can wash all the pain away? I wish I could get that as a prescription medicine from a doctor. Preferably a hot doctor, then of course. And available, constantly, all around the clock.
At morning when I wake up from nightmares, in the forenoon when the darkness from yesterday comes rushing back, at noon when my hunger and disgust for food is killing me, in the afternoon when I miss K the most intensively and I'm getting too tired to think but thinking is all I do, and at night when the darkness takes over me and rapes my mind.
Yeah, I'm quite the mess. But I feel okay in between those attacks. It's usually only once every part of the day, sometimes twice, sometimes it skips noon or afternoon. My physical pain is still better. I took an actual painkiller drug too, so I guess that one has kicked in as well. Now I'm just trying my best not to tense up, to stay at least somewhat relaxed at the best of my ability. If I had K, if I had his kisses, I don't think I would need the razor blades. At least not whenever he's around. Cause he would just be the best medicine ever. Not a cure, of course, but the next best thing to a cure. That's what I fantasise about the most, just kissing him.
I don't think there is a cure for me. The best I can do is what I'm doing right now, except from the cutting. I mean, I'm doing something about my misgendered body, I'm taking medication, I see my psychologist, I do what I love doing (writing, drawing, etc), I'm gonna try going to school again even though it's gonna be hard and I'm making future plans without rushing them too much. I'm pining, I'm withering, I'm falling down into a black hole, but I'm still fighting, still trying my best not to give up.
Cause I don't want to end up there on the bottom again. I don't want to end up on a psychiatric ward with a noose around my neck again, or becoming mute because of a mental mindfuck to great for me to deal with. I don't want to end up in a chaos again where the world around me falls apart and becomes a real nightmare right before my eyes whether it's an actual psychosis or not. I don't want to end up in another emotional roller coaster so extreme that I'm shifting between mania, anxiety, depression, suicidal and happiness in the course of a single day, every day for a month.
I'm trying to avoid that, I don't want that again for anything in the world. But I'm fragile, I'm like a frozen leaf in the wind that would break if you try to touch it. I'm shifting between sweating and freezing, shaking and crying, cutting and laughing. Everything is so chaotic and ambivalent right now and I can't tell left from right. It's the mental pain combined with the physical pain and I just can't stand it. It aches in my mind, heart, soul and body and pain is all they have in common.
When pain is so strong, you can't see clear. No matter what you do, you can't concentrate, it follows you everywhere.
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