All of tumblr is having a great day of "trans day of visibility" while I'm here close to crying my heart out. A part of me wants to participate, but I don't want to come out on tumblr. What would that possibly give me that I don't already have? I don't need to make myself visible, not anymore.
I listen to my sad songs and write cryptic poems today. Because suddenly I find myself having nothing to live for, again, and my hopes are slipping away. Matter less, not worth holding on to. I'm in a trance like state, lost within myself and the reasons I desperately try to hold on to.
I shift between feeling everything at once and feeling completely empty, and it's so exhausting. The days start out good and then turn into messes. I don't know what changes. Maybe it's my words, or something else. I don't know.
I turn up the music louder, let my second favourite song of all times ring softly in my ears. "Demons" by Alaska in Winter. I've been listening to it so much since I found it in October last year.
I'm thinking about dying and my funeral, what I should write in my 10th or so suicide letter. I still don't want to die, but something is pulling me closer. Or farther away, I don't know which exactly. Just telling myself stay, stay, stay for the night at least. I will. I know I will.
It's 37 days today, and I'm still counting. Kian is 37 years old in my book, and I have a glass marked with the same number. It follows me.
I'm dying. I don't know when, but I probably won't be able to hold on that much longer. I just wanted... I wanted so much, but it feels like my prophecy is completely out of my hands and I don't even know what my real cause of death will be. What will lead me to it, but right now, a broken heart seems more than likely.
I don't want my fate, I want to give it to someone else. Flashes before my eyes as I think of who would be better fit for it. When I was 9, but he was just a kid, and he would be one year younger than I am now. I don't want to think about it, not that too. It's ancient crap.
I don't want to think at all, and somehow I doubt, that getting a kid could save my life. It would only complicate the lives of others if or when I die from that kid. And it's a terrible thing to do, just to stay alive, especially if I'm already thinking that it won't work.
I need K, and no one can replace him. I need him so damn much that my desperate need brings me back to my thoughts on suicide. Do I love him enough now?
No, I don't think that kind of love can be measured in amounts like that. It just is. And it's killing me. But I'm not prepared, I don't want to be prepared. I want to live, I just don't think I can.
I've been suppressing these thoughts, cause I don't want to worry anyone. Have tried to find other reasons to live, but it's not just hard, it's fucking impossible. I'm just counting the days and I have no idea how much more of this I can endure. I won't do anything, I promise, I just needed to finally vent about this.
I was gonna post a very long entry about how I'm getting closer to getting suicidal, because of K really, but I didn't want to post that. I didn't want you worrying about me, like that last time. But here I am, posting it anyway. Because I can't think straight, and I can't bottle it up. Please don't take this as a suicide note, I'm not planning on going anywhere. It's just thoughts.
Tuesday, 31 March 2015
Various thoughts of today
I'm still upset from yesterday, still fighting for my will to live, or what to say. Maybe my lack of will to live, I don't know. I'm just breathing, okay? And maybe that will have to do for now. I'm so tired, yet I'm not. Tired in my heart and soul, but feeling kinda alert physically. It's a strange combination.
Like every breath feels heavy, my movements are slow but my mind is racing fast. I feel heavy within, but light on the outside and my eyes are open wide. It could just be the coffee, giving me a false alertness. And the sunlight too. They were right about the weather, it did stop raining and the sun has peaked out from the blue. But they said it wouldn't last.
Damn, I don't want the whole spring to just rain away, I want sunlight. To sit outdoors with a blanket wrapped around me with my drawing or writing. Just for short moments before I get bored and go back inside to my computer again. In times of spring and summer, I really do wish I had a laptop as well (greedy, I know) so that I could sit outside or at a cafe and write or edit something.
I do have laptops, several, but they're all broken and can't function anymore. I've tried, but they're broken beyond repair. That's why I got this computer instead, but I really do miss having a laptop. Just to write and go out on the internet with. Nothing that would eventually destroy it, like world of warcraft did to my previous ones.
I would care for it. I actually have planned on possibly saving up a little money for a really cheap one. Like maybe just a few thousand kronor or something. Money that I don't fucking have, but it would be worth it somehow. Or I could try to talk my parents into letting me have one. The cheapest ever, it doesn't have to be fancy at all.
As long as I can write on it and check tumblr and facebook, basically. Oh, and listen to music via Spotify. And that's it. I would mostly use it as a writing machine. I could bring it with me to Uppsala, to psychiatric wards, to a cafe or wherever outdoors when there's nice weather.
It's not every day, or all days, that I'm thinking about parenthood and wanting a child. But it doesn't mean that I suddenly don't want it, just that other thoughts win the battle inside my head. Just so you know.
Today I seem to be thinking about all sorts of things. The sun is alluring but I don't want to leave my computer, so I'm enjoying it from my living room window instead. It's quite a very large window so a lot of sun shines through it. It's almost like a panorama window. Showing nothing but a street, a shack for bikes and half of a playground in the not so far distance. Along with the rest of this house which is shaped almost like a horse shoe and I live in one of the corners of it.
How dull I feel, yet something is constantly nagging at me. It's about K and the silence between us. It's now been 37 days and I feel empty inside. And every time I feel empty, I hope the emptiness is here to stay, but it never is. Cause it's better to feel empty, than to feel everything at once. I've come to realise that.
Almost exactly one year ago, I had bleach blonde, short hair and enjoyed the spring warmth and my newly operated chest by wearing just a fishnet shirt under my leather coat. It felt so right, and it still does, to have had that kind of surgery. Like everything just finally fell to place. And last summer I enjoyed the sun on my bare chest, wondering if people would stare at or comment on my scars.
I just recently found a youtube video talking about post op dysphoria. Which is exactly what I've been feeling, although it hurts to admit that. Exactly that insecurity about the scars, creating a new form of dysphoria. But I hope, that in due time, either the scars will fade or I'll stop thinking like that. Maybe even both. Cause the scars will fade, eventually. Just that I'm not a very fast healer and I think maybe my smoking slows down the healing process too.
Sometimes I think about meeting people from my past, what they would think of me now, if they would even recognise me. I believe though, that my face hasn't changed much over the years and through my transition. That my jaw has gotten a little wider from the testosterone but that's pretty much it. And I have a beard now. So I'm thinking they would still recognise my face. I don't know, mostly I think about my ex, the one that hurt me badly.
I still think I saw him in Uppsala last summer. It could have been him waiting by the train station, but I was scared to say hello, as I'm not the same person anymore.
But let's leave him for now, I've got better things to think of. And although my heart is still as hopeless as it was when I fell for that ex, I do believe that K is truly a good person. And I don't regret falling for him. Despite everything, I still believe that my fucked up heart finally chose a good person to fall for. Although yet again, an unavailable one.
Okay, another long entry, but I'm not sorry. When I finally have a lot on my mind that isn't babies, was my thought all along. That maybe you'd like some variation to that. I don't know, I mostly write for my own sake after all.
Damn, the sun is already starting to set and I haven't gotten enough sunlight today. Guess I'll just finish this off now and then continue posting more shit later on.
Like every breath feels heavy, my movements are slow but my mind is racing fast. I feel heavy within, but light on the outside and my eyes are open wide. It could just be the coffee, giving me a false alertness. And the sunlight too. They were right about the weather, it did stop raining and the sun has peaked out from the blue. But they said it wouldn't last.
Damn, I don't want the whole spring to just rain away, I want sunlight. To sit outdoors with a blanket wrapped around me with my drawing or writing. Just for short moments before I get bored and go back inside to my computer again. In times of spring and summer, I really do wish I had a laptop as well (greedy, I know) so that I could sit outside or at a cafe and write or edit something.
I do have laptops, several, but they're all broken and can't function anymore. I've tried, but they're broken beyond repair. That's why I got this computer instead, but I really do miss having a laptop. Just to write and go out on the internet with. Nothing that would eventually destroy it, like world of warcraft did to my previous ones.
I would care for it. I actually have planned on possibly saving up a little money for a really cheap one. Like maybe just a few thousand kronor or something. Money that I don't fucking have, but it would be worth it somehow. Or I could try to talk my parents into letting me have one. The cheapest ever, it doesn't have to be fancy at all.
As long as I can write on it and check tumblr and facebook, basically. Oh, and listen to music via Spotify. And that's it. I would mostly use it as a writing machine. I could bring it with me to Uppsala, to psychiatric wards, to a cafe or wherever outdoors when there's nice weather.
It's not every day, or all days, that I'm thinking about parenthood and wanting a child. But it doesn't mean that I suddenly don't want it, just that other thoughts win the battle inside my head. Just so you know.
Today I seem to be thinking about all sorts of things. The sun is alluring but I don't want to leave my computer, so I'm enjoying it from my living room window instead. It's quite a very large window so a lot of sun shines through it. It's almost like a panorama window. Showing nothing but a street, a shack for bikes and half of a playground in the not so far distance. Along with the rest of this house which is shaped almost like a horse shoe and I live in one of the corners of it.
How dull I feel, yet something is constantly nagging at me. It's about K and the silence between us. It's now been 37 days and I feel empty inside. And every time I feel empty, I hope the emptiness is here to stay, but it never is. Cause it's better to feel empty, than to feel everything at once. I've come to realise that.
Almost exactly one year ago, I had bleach blonde, short hair and enjoyed the spring warmth and my newly operated chest by wearing just a fishnet shirt under my leather coat. It felt so right, and it still does, to have had that kind of surgery. Like everything just finally fell to place. And last summer I enjoyed the sun on my bare chest, wondering if people would stare at or comment on my scars.
I just recently found a youtube video talking about post op dysphoria. Which is exactly what I've been feeling, although it hurts to admit that. Exactly that insecurity about the scars, creating a new form of dysphoria. But I hope, that in due time, either the scars will fade or I'll stop thinking like that. Maybe even both. Cause the scars will fade, eventually. Just that I'm not a very fast healer and I think maybe my smoking slows down the healing process too.
Sometimes I think about meeting people from my past, what they would think of me now, if they would even recognise me. I believe though, that my face hasn't changed much over the years and through my transition. That my jaw has gotten a little wider from the testosterone but that's pretty much it. And I have a beard now. So I'm thinking they would still recognise my face. I don't know, mostly I think about my ex, the one that hurt me badly.
I still think I saw him in Uppsala last summer. It could have been him waiting by the train station, but I was scared to say hello, as I'm not the same person anymore.
But let's leave him for now, I've got better things to think of. And although my heart is still as hopeless as it was when I fell for that ex, I do believe that K is truly a good person. And I don't regret falling for him. Despite everything, I still believe that my fucked up heart finally chose a good person to fall for. Although yet again, an unavailable one.
Okay, another long entry, but I'm not sorry. When I finally have a lot on my mind that isn't babies, was my thought all along. That maybe you'd like some variation to that. I don't know, I mostly write for my own sake after all.
Damn, the sun is already starting to set and I haven't gotten enough sunlight today. Guess I'll just finish this off now and then continue posting more shit later on.
Monday, 30 March 2015
When nothing else matters
I start missing K again as the soft and hard tones of Alice Cooper's song "Die for you" streams through my headphones. I don't know why I can't feel anything. Suddenly, all my feelings just blew away and left me empty.
It's not just a crush, I'm in love with him. I'm deeply lovesick and every passing day I'm thinking that this can kill me. I'm so scared of acting upon an impulsive suicide that these feelings one day, possibly, in all likelihood, will lead me to.
I'm empty, as sadness hollows me out from within until there's nothing left but a shell. I can't cry anymore, it was months, 7 or 8 months ago last time and years before that. Hell is living without him and I forgot why I'm alive in the first place, if not to be with him. I forget all other reasons to go on living, and that... that is lovesickness. When fucking nothing else matters.
And it's hard just to breathe. Cause every time I breathe in I think of him and every time I breathe out I try to stop thinking about him. Cloud my mind with thoughts on having children instead. Try to make him matter less by shadowing and dulling the thoughts about him with something else. But it doesn't work, not really.
It's like putting on sunglasses hoping the sun will stop shining. Or lighting a candle hoping the darkness will go away forever. It won't. Deep down I know that it won't. No matter how many candles I light, darkness will always be there.
And so will he. Lost in my mind, locked inside my heart, frozen in my soul. The day I let him into my soul I knew he was gonna stay there forever, that it was somehow an ancient form of commitment on only my part that I could never get out of.
I committed to this, he didn't. He's out there, somewhere in the world, miles and miles away and I can pretend that the more time passes the easier it will get, but it won't. It fucking won't, I will end up committing suicide if he never talks to me again. And you know what? It's only my own fucking fault, it was never his fault.
I would never blame him, but knowing that he would likely blame himself if or when I do such a thing, I try to hold on. I try to hold on to this life of endless misery and heartbreak upon heartbreak until I literally can't stand up anymore. Did you know that I've had my heart broken 9 times?
The first and the last was worst. Person A was first and they weren't even real. I fell blindly for an imaginary person and then somehow my heart broke and I hurt so badly. I started cutting myself, had worse dissociations, tried to kill myself for the first time. I was 15 years old.
Last was person T and he was at least real. I literally fell for him at first sight, it took me around 15 minutes to fall to somewhere underneath the classroom floor. I was 21 years old. After he rejected me, I tried to kill myself 5 times the following year and spent about 2 months altogether at various psychiatric wards. I could not be helped.
So believe me when I say, love fucking kills you. If you let it, I suppose. Maybe I didn't have much to live for before I fell for all those people. Men, women, anyone. I count them on my fingers and I have only 1 finger left. Right pinky, will I die when I have to bend you down too?
Cause how much heartache can I possibly take? How much more darkness, how much more insufferable pain, before I finally succeed what I've tried to do 15 times already? It's my rap sheet, my curse, and to love K forever just like I promised myself and all of my stupid diaries.
I can't take much more of this. It's been 36 days and not a word. I'm counting the days, literally. Every morning I wake up I count, 34, 35, 36... for how long? For how long, until I die? I don't plan suicide, I don't want it, but whether I do or not I'm a danger to myself and my pain takes me places I didn't intend to visit. If I die this year, please never tell him that I died for him. I don't want him carrying that burden.
But I'll try, I'll keep on trying to stay strong. It's just a little too much right now and my appointments in Visby are far from enough to get everything said and discussed. There's Anna, school, eating disorder, lovesickness, dreams, parenthood, and I know that the topic of suicide should be first on the list, but I can't make myself mention it.
Simply, I don't want to end up at that ward again with all my privacy robbed and no access to my computer. I wouldn't go freely, they'd have to force me and it could get ugly. But yeah, those thoughts have been lingering their way back to me again, although I try to force them away again. I can't deal, I just can't fucking deal with this.
It's not just a crush, I'm in love with him. I'm deeply lovesick and every passing day I'm thinking that this can kill me. I'm so scared of acting upon an impulsive suicide that these feelings one day, possibly, in all likelihood, will lead me to.
I'm empty, as sadness hollows me out from within until there's nothing left but a shell. I can't cry anymore, it was months, 7 or 8 months ago last time and years before that. Hell is living without him and I forgot why I'm alive in the first place, if not to be with him. I forget all other reasons to go on living, and that... that is lovesickness. When fucking nothing else matters.
And it's hard just to breathe. Cause every time I breathe in I think of him and every time I breathe out I try to stop thinking about him. Cloud my mind with thoughts on having children instead. Try to make him matter less by shadowing and dulling the thoughts about him with something else. But it doesn't work, not really.
It's like putting on sunglasses hoping the sun will stop shining. Or lighting a candle hoping the darkness will go away forever. It won't. Deep down I know that it won't. No matter how many candles I light, darkness will always be there.
And so will he. Lost in my mind, locked inside my heart, frozen in my soul. The day I let him into my soul I knew he was gonna stay there forever, that it was somehow an ancient form of commitment on only my part that I could never get out of.
I committed to this, he didn't. He's out there, somewhere in the world, miles and miles away and I can pretend that the more time passes the easier it will get, but it won't. It fucking won't, I will end up committing suicide if he never talks to me again. And you know what? It's only my own fucking fault, it was never his fault.
I would never blame him, but knowing that he would likely blame himself if or when I do such a thing, I try to hold on. I try to hold on to this life of endless misery and heartbreak upon heartbreak until I literally can't stand up anymore. Did you know that I've had my heart broken 9 times?
The first and the last was worst. Person A was first and they weren't even real. I fell blindly for an imaginary person and then somehow my heart broke and I hurt so badly. I started cutting myself, had worse dissociations, tried to kill myself for the first time. I was 15 years old.
Last was person T and he was at least real. I literally fell for him at first sight, it took me around 15 minutes to fall to somewhere underneath the classroom floor. I was 21 years old. After he rejected me, I tried to kill myself 5 times the following year and spent about 2 months altogether at various psychiatric wards. I could not be helped.
So believe me when I say, love fucking kills you. If you let it, I suppose. Maybe I didn't have much to live for before I fell for all those people. Men, women, anyone. I count them on my fingers and I have only 1 finger left. Right pinky, will I die when I have to bend you down too?
Cause how much heartache can I possibly take? How much more darkness, how much more insufferable pain, before I finally succeed what I've tried to do 15 times already? It's my rap sheet, my curse, and to love K forever just like I promised myself and all of my stupid diaries.
I can't take much more of this. It's been 36 days and not a word. I'm counting the days, literally. Every morning I wake up I count, 34, 35, 36... for how long? For how long, until I die? I don't plan suicide, I don't want it, but whether I do or not I'm a danger to myself and my pain takes me places I didn't intend to visit. If I die this year, please never tell him that I died for him. I don't want him carrying that burden.
But I'll try, I'll keep on trying to stay strong. It's just a little too much right now and my appointments in Visby are far from enough to get everything said and discussed. There's Anna, school, eating disorder, lovesickness, dreams, parenthood, and I know that the topic of suicide should be first on the list, but I can't make myself mention it.
Simply, I don't want to end up at that ward again with all my privacy robbed and no access to my computer. I wouldn't go freely, they'd have to force me and it could get ugly. But yeah, those thoughts have been lingering their way back to me again, although I try to force them away again. I can't deal, I just can't fucking deal with this.
The downsides
I have thought about what consequences it could mean if I do get pregnant. Like the social consequences. That I would likely be misgendered a lot again and people would definitely start questioning my "choice" of transitioning in the first place. They would not understand.
Cause in this society, having children is still considered a very female thing to do. And I think, that people would question my gender identity because of that. Like just walking down the street with a huge pregnant belly and with all my previous curves back in place (except from the boobs, obviously, though I've heard some of that tissue can grow back during a pregnancy).
Anyways, I'd deal with that if it comes to that. I would be off hormones for quite some time and a lot of things, things I didn't even think of before, can or will revert back. With me already fighting against my androgyny I would most likely be read as female again if all that happens.
So yeah... it has some downsides that I would have to deal with one way or another. What to say to people, if I should let them believe I'm female just to easier get understanding for my situation, or explain everything the way it actually is to get the respect that I deserve, for examples.
It's a lot... it's so much to think about regarding the whole deal and my head is soon gonna explode, I think. Though I think the hardest part right now is trying to figure where to possibly start. How do I even get knocked up in the first place?
I can probably forget about finding a partner equipped for the job and who also wants to start a family just like that. I can probably also forget about donors. I'd try that though, cause it seems like the most reasonable method to go for.
It would be one hell of a circus, if I decide to go for that. Just getting everything in order and all the damn preparations and what not. But it would be so worth it... Me and my bloody obsessions, what's next? I know you're all thinking it, I'm not stupid.
I wish I could soothe you with something, if you're worried that I'll just jump right into it and it becomes a damn mess too late to get out of. But I can't really think of anything to say, other than that I would try to plan it as much as I possibly can and always listen to my gut, back out if I feel I can't do it, and also surround myself with all the help I can possible get as long as I can afford it somehow. And by somehow I mean my parents.
My family is complicated, especially when it comes to little kids. No one likes them, not even me. Well, I don't like most kids, or kids in general, but some I do like and that's what differs me from the rest of my family. I can think a baby is cute and I'm not always bothered by them screaming/crying.
I can easily smile when I just see a random kid at the grocery store or wherever and my mind starts to wander, I start thinking what if I was their parent and such. While the rest of my family seems to hate them at all costs, I'm not like that.
Also, I'm the least able in my family, I'm the one who needs almost constant care of some form although I'm more mature than my sister, I'm far more disabled than she is. My mother is far more abled than my sister and my father is the most abled/independent of us all. It goes like that, basically.
So I, who likes kids the most but am the least capable of caring for one, should get one? It is complicated, and I can't really wrap my head around it myself even. But I do wish that my family liked kids too, it would definitely simplify things a lot. And I probably wouldn't have had to think my brain to wrinkles if that was the case. But it's not and I have to be the smart one now.
Like, see if I could get help from elsewhere besides my otherwise so supporting family. Like LSS or some other kind of help. I don't know really what kind of help I could possibly get if I do get a child with all my diagnoses.
I thought I'm gonna google LSS and see if I can find any useful information about that. Okay, I can't really find any real information, just random people's opinions on online forums. Someone said something about the LSS staff not being able to help caring for children as well as the adults living in the residents, which I can somewhat understand.
Though it has to be solved somehow. I mean, I'm still in need of that kind of support and I'm also allowed to have children. Juridic complications, I can see them really becoming a problem... sigh.
It would be so fucking complicated I can't even fathom it. If only I had been a cisgendered person without diagnoses, but I'm not and there's nothing I can do about those things. I'd just have to deal, somehow. And if or when I do decide to go for it, I'm gonna have to talk to the crew and figure out a solution of some kind. Like maybe I'd have to go to a specific family home or something. Cause I stumbled across that too while I was searching, but only about disabled children and special LSS care for them.
Although likely my child would get asperger too, I don't think that would be the worst thing to deal with. It's all the practical stuff that children, any child, has needs for. Though, I think I would be able to do most of the childcare stuff on my own. Like feeding, clothing, bathing, teaching, generally just caring for them. It's possible illnesses, administrative and juridical stuff that I would need help with.
All this gives me a headache. And I haven't even remotely thought of everything yet, I feel there are more mountains of doom to think through before I can possibly reach my decision whether or not to have a child. As my thoughts move in bigger and more complicated circles I get back to the same issues but deeper into them each time. Soon, I might have reached my decision.
It feels worth it all, but that doesn't mean that I know it would be. I just want to avoid suddenly drowning in an ocean of phone calls and paperwork once the baby has been born. In hassles and arguments nation wide because I'm not like other people and I know that there's a fucking majority not wanting me to reproduce. And I'd have to deal with that somehow and do as much as I possibly could on my own. It would be far from easy cause these diagnoses on paper actually have major impacts on my entire life.
So, sure I want a little bundle of joy, but I'd be facing so much chaos you can't possibly imagine it. Juridic, administrative, personal, social, within my own home and outside in society. I. Can't. Grasp. It.
Cause in this society, having children is still considered a very female thing to do. And I think, that people would question my gender identity because of that. Like just walking down the street with a huge pregnant belly and with all my previous curves back in place (except from the boobs, obviously, though I've heard some of that tissue can grow back during a pregnancy).
Anyways, I'd deal with that if it comes to that. I would be off hormones for quite some time and a lot of things, things I didn't even think of before, can or will revert back. With me already fighting against my androgyny I would most likely be read as female again if all that happens.
So yeah... it has some downsides that I would have to deal with one way or another. What to say to people, if I should let them believe I'm female just to easier get understanding for my situation, or explain everything the way it actually is to get the respect that I deserve, for examples.
It's a lot... it's so much to think about regarding the whole deal and my head is soon gonna explode, I think. Though I think the hardest part right now is trying to figure where to possibly start. How do I even get knocked up in the first place?
I can probably forget about finding a partner equipped for the job and who also wants to start a family just like that. I can probably also forget about donors. I'd try that though, cause it seems like the most reasonable method to go for.
It would be one hell of a circus, if I decide to go for that. Just getting everything in order and all the damn preparations and what not. But it would be so worth it... Me and my bloody obsessions, what's next? I know you're all thinking it, I'm not stupid.
I wish I could soothe you with something, if you're worried that I'll just jump right into it and it becomes a damn mess too late to get out of. But I can't really think of anything to say, other than that I would try to plan it as much as I possibly can and always listen to my gut, back out if I feel I can't do it, and also surround myself with all the help I can possible get as long as I can afford it somehow. And by somehow I mean my parents.
My family is complicated, especially when it comes to little kids. No one likes them, not even me. Well, I don't like most kids, or kids in general, but some I do like and that's what differs me from the rest of my family. I can think a baby is cute and I'm not always bothered by them screaming/crying.
I can easily smile when I just see a random kid at the grocery store or wherever and my mind starts to wander, I start thinking what if I was their parent and such. While the rest of my family seems to hate them at all costs, I'm not like that.
Also, I'm the least able in my family, I'm the one who needs almost constant care of some form although I'm more mature than my sister, I'm far more disabled than she is. My mother is far more abled than my sister and my father is the most abled/independent of us all. It goes like that, basically.
So I, who likes kids the most but am the least capable of caring for one, should get one? It is complicated, and I can't really wrap my head around it myself even. But I do wish that my family liked kids too, it would definitely simplify things a lot. And I probably wouldn't have had to think my brain to wrinkles if that was the case. But it's not and I have to be the smart one now.
Like, see if I could get help from elsewhere besides my otherwise so supporting family. Like LSS or some other kind of help. I don't know really what kind of help I could possibly get if I do get a child with all my diagnoses.
I thought I'm gonna google LSS and see if I can find any useful information about that. Okay, I can't really find any real information, just random people's opinions on online forums. Someone said something about the LSS staff not being able to help caring for children as well as the adults living in the residents, which I can somewhat understand.
Though it has to be solved somehow. I mean, I'm still in need of that kind of support and I'm also allowed to have children. Juridic complications, I can see them really becoming a problem... sigh.
It would be so fucking complicated I can't even fathom it. If only I had been a cisgendered person without diagnoses, but I'm not and there's nothing I can do about those things. I'd just have to deal, somehow. And if or when I do decide to go for it, I'm gonna have to talk to the crew and figure out a solution of some kind. Like maybe I'd have to go to a specific family home or something. Cause I stumbled across that too while I was searching, but only about disabled children and special LSS care for them.
Although likely my child would get asperger too, I don't think that would be the worst thing to deal with. It's all the practical stuff that children, any child, has needs for. Though, I think I would be able to do most of the childcare stuff on my own. Like feeding, clothing, bathing, teaching, generally just caring for them. It's possible illnesses, administrative and juridical stuff that I would need help with.
All this gives me a headache. And I haven't even remotely thought of everything yet, I feel there are more mountains of doom to think through before I can possibly reach my decision whether or not to have a child. As my thoughts move in bigger and more complicated circles I get back to the same issues but deeper into them each time. Soon, I might have reached my decision.
It feels worth it all, but that doesn't mean that I know it would be. I just want to avoid suddenly drowning in an ocean of phone calls and paperwork once the baby has been born. In hassles and arguments nation wide because I'm not like other people and I know that there's a fucking majority not wanting me to reproduce. And I'd have to deal with that somehow and do as much as I possibly could on my own. It would be far from easy cause these diagnoses on paper actually have major impacts on my entire life.
So, sure I want a little bundle of joy, but I'd be facing so much chaos you can't possibly imagine it. Juridic, administrative, personal, social, within my own home and outside in society. I. Can't. Grasp. It.
Sunday, 29 March 2015
Holding on to the dream (very long)
I finally managed to drag my ass to the tobacco store to buy cigarettes and then found a lot of things at the grocery store too. I'll continue replacing beans with that soy based farce and nuts instead, for now. It's at least got some kind of protein in it.
And I thought about parenthood and children all the way down town and back up again. I can't let go, and I don't want to.
Would my eating disorder be a terrible obstacle if I got pregnant? I can't help but wonder if that could become dangerous somehow, for the baby, I mean. And then I can't help but worry about complications of any kind.
Like my friend who knows about this thing couldn't get anesthesia because of his male personal identity number, that the computer rejected it somehow. Or like what could happen if my child would be ill or injured somehow? Like what if has downs syndrome?
I'd just try my best to take care of it anyway, cause I can't possibly imagine having an abortion because of anything. It would tear at my soul and heart, to do such a thing when I want a child this much. I know that my genes suck, but there's nothing I can do about that. I didn't choose my crappy genes.
And suddenly I start thinking about clothes. What I should possibly wear during a pregnancy. Like I was thinking I could try those special kind of jeans if they don't look too feminine (I already wear women's jeans sometimes as it is) and combine that with men's quite large shirts and sweaters.
And baby clothes... oh my god, I want to buy that already! But it will be tricky figuring out if I should go gender neutral or mix girly with boyish. Or I could sew my own if I had the inspiration and will to do that. Or if I should go with "normal" or something goth-ish. I'd probably mix and match in a messy way that might or might not turn out so good.
Although, what kind of clothes to choose would be the least of my worry, to be perfectly honest. I don't even know if I'll raise my possible kid on Gotland or on the main land. Because I want to move back to Uppsala sometime not too far into the future. Although, I'd aim for going through pregnancy and the first year or so with my parents close at hand, because of pure practical reasons.
Yes, my parents would hate me for bringing a child to the world, but you know what? It's my life, my body, my fucking decision and they have no right to stop me from getting a child if that's what I decide for. They'd just have to deal with it. They could complain however much they want to, it's not up to them.
I really can't stop ranting about this, and I'm a little bit sorry for filling up entire walls of text about this here on my blog. It might be a bit tedious to read about by now. But it's what's on my mind and it's what's keeping me alive right now, so I think it's fair to say that it's important in that way.
It's true, I've become close to suicidal again, when I don't think about having children, because K never spoke to me again after 35 days. And I can't deal with that. I can't deal at all. And if it wasn't for these fluffy thoughts on parenthood, I could have been in that suicidal mess again by now.
So, I'm riding on those fluffy feelings of wanting a child, even though it's still way too early to tell if I'm actually ready for such a drastic change it would be to actually go through with it. And for a fraction of a second, I was actually glad in a fucked up way, that I was born with a female body, because that allows me to experience a pregnancy if that's what I truly want.
I'm not saying that I'm de-transitioning or anything even remotely close to that. I'm still a man, just sort of embracing a part of my body that I've always hated up until recently. My female parts isn't what I am, it's simply something that I have and whether or not I have those parts, I'm still a guy and always will be.
So, I'm definitely not going female again, just possibly use what I have the way it was intended, or what to say. Make use for those child bearing hips and that junk that rattles inside me that's caused so much pain and suffering and dysphoria all through my teenage years and early 20's with all that it meant with having/getting periods.
Just one child, that's all I ever want. I couldn't imagine doing it twice or more. Once I kinda wanted two kids, a boy and a girl, but what if it turns out to be two boys or two girls? Haha, I don't really care about that, but what I do care about is simply this: it would (likely) be a whole lot harder with more than one kid. And I only need one. That one I could easily favour over every other kid in the whole wide world and there would be no competition. Hope I wouldn't spoil them too much though, haha.
I have thought about one more thing though, that I probably wouldn't take advantage of daycare that much. Since I'm not dependent on a job or anything, I could easily be a stay at home parent and still get money coming in. I would love to be a stay at home parent! Seriously. And I would need to, unless I find a partner that could help me with that. But I also know that it's even harder finding a partner if you have a child, generally speaking.
Not that I'm even looking for a partner, except from K, but yeah. Yeah... that's a whole different chapter that you already know about. So, I'd aim to be a single parent, and then the partner issue, if it becomes an actual issue, can get solved whenever or never cause I forgot how to care about that. Cause it's like, with a child, I wouldn't need any other kind of love.
I do believe that, that that's the only love I need in my sad excuse for a life. And suddenly I'm not so disgusted by my body anymore, though possibly going off testosterone bothers me a bit. All the changes that could revert back and going back to the menstrual cycle with all those mood swings and what not. Having those female hormones rampaging in my body for 9 months then too. I can just barely imagine what a hell it could be like.
I've only heard stories from cis-women and a few transguys (mostly from youtube, haha). So yeah, that would definitely be something to look forward too... So it both scares me and allures me. It's such a mix of thoughts and feelings... like really, I can just barely manage to describe it all. Although I try to, cause I just can't keep it all bottled up inside me.
It's like I'm already trying to prepare myself, you know. For what it could be like. I want to know everything before making my decision definite. Right now I'm just letting myself feel these feelings and think these thoughts. Just letting it all bounce around to eventually settle for whatever conclusion I might reach.
And I don't want to stop writing about it this time, but my words reach an end and eventually I'll have to. The first person I think about telling would be my shrink. I'll see her again the 17th and maybe I'll tell her then or the next time. There's a lot about Anna going on in that office right now. Secondly I'll tell my mother, and then I don't know. Possibly the internet, or the crew.
The crew needs to know because if I do plan to go through with it I don't know what is their view point on me having an extra person living in my LSS apartment suddenly one day. If I'd have to move out or if it can be arranged in some other, less complicated way. Cause I'm gonna need a whole lot of support including LSS if I do decide to have a child.
I mean, I still can't quite take care of myself and I know that it would be wise of me to wait a few more years to see if I could get more independent first, that thought is not lost on me, but I really feel like I don't have that kind of time. I might be lost in my self fulfilling prophecy, or I'm just too damn realistic. I don't know, but I think both the male hormones rampaging through my body and time lessens my chances of being able to get pregnant in the first place, as well as my mind slowly killing me as I constantly lose my will to live.
In other words, I just don't have all eternity. I don't have the time that I might need. I'll have to make it work anyway somehow. And it feels like one of the most important decisions of my entire life, maybe of everyone's life, and I just can't let it go forever. I know, have known for 2 years now, that I want to have a child someday, whether that is within a year or 10 years from now.
I can't see myself alive in 10 years. I really, really can't. But I hope I will be, I hope I'll be alive to take care of that child and help them up to and through their adulthood. I don't want to die from my child. Of course they should outlive me, but not like that. I don't want them growing up, never have known their father, but I realise that with the mess that is my life, it might have to come to that.
I so-so accept it, yet it's tearing me apart. If only I could find something like a guarantee that I won't die before I turn 28, but I can't possibly find such a thing. All I can do is try to find reasons to hold on to life and suffer through what needs to be suffered through. Back again, is it selfish of me to want a child if that's the only thing that could keep me alive? Is that a horrible reason, or in fact a rather amazing one?
To maybe, just maybe, one day tell that child that "you kept me alive". I mean, I'm almost in tears just thinking about that. And the shudders... damn. But maybe it would be placing a terrible burden on that child as well, or if they are more grown up at that time.
It's probably not something you should say to a 7 year old or something. But maybe a 27 year old? If I ever get to live to the age of *counting* 54 or beyond. I counted it as I would be 27 when I get that child, which is about as early as I could become a parent.
I might still be 26 but I find that unlikely somehow. Also, somehow I find it appealing that I could have my child at a younger age than my parents were when they had me. Although it would be at most 3 years younger, it's still something. Growing up, I always thought that my parents were too old and everyone else's parents were a lot younger. Though that wasn't entirely true of course, since 30 isn't that old to get your first child.
It really isn't old, now pushing 30 myself, haha. I hope I'll get to my 30th birthday and celebrate it with my tiny little family. I wonder what season or month my child would be born, all of a sudden. Oh my god, I just want that kind of life so much! Right now, I can't really imagine anything more wonderful and beautiful.
What suddenly changed within me? Two years ago I never intended to have a child, now it's all I can think of. It came so suddenly this time. Hm, my child would likely never know their grand-grand parents, I just came to think of. Somehow that saddens me, cause before, when my grand mother was still sane, she used to love kids. Now she's the only one still (barely) alive and lives at a retirement home somewhere in the Stockholm area. I don't think I would ever visit her there, and definitely not bring a child to such a place.
I just wish I had a relative that likes children. Possibly my uncle, by the way, since he for quite some time had a girlfriend who has kids. I think they're about 5-7 years old. He still has contact with them. So possibly that he would be alright with meeting my possible future child. Other than that, I would likely mostly have my family to myself and my parents would help me as much as they could force themselves to, with desperate sighs and what not.
Haha, it wouldn't be that much time for sitting by the computer blogging, chatting, playing video games or doing anything for that matter when having an infant to take care of 24/7. Yeah... but oh it would be fun. I really think so. Waking up 20 times a night to feed the little bundle of joy, changing diapers and checking for fevers and other ailments, comforting and carrying them everywhere. I'd give lots of love, making up for that I wouldn't be able to breast feed them. Just holding them instead.
I don't know if you've noticed, but I refrain from calling my possible future child "it" as I don't really see children as property but more as actual, although tiny, human beings. So there is a thought behind that.
Also, I couldn't have picked a better time to get better at and like cooking, right? Cause then I could cook for that possible child. And as I said before, I'd make them anything, vegan or not. What's most important is that they get everything they need, and secondly that they would like the food.
Okay, I'm running out of words now and I'll post this massive wall of text that consists of most of my thoughts since that last entry earlier today. My head really is cramming with thoughts and feelings colouring each other in an endless spinning... whatever, and this is the only way I can at least somewhat sort it all.
And I thought about parenthood and children all the way down town and back up again. I can't let go, and I don't want to.
Would my eating disorder be a terrible obstacle if I got pregnant? I can't help but wonder if that could become dangerous somehow, for the baby, I mean. And then I can't help but worry about complications of any kind.
Like my friend who knows about this thing couldn't get anesthesia because of his male personal identity number, that the computer rejected it somehow. Or like what could happen if my child would be ill or injured somehow? Like what if has downs syndrome?
I'd just try my best to take care of it anyway, cause I can't possibly imagine having an abortion because of anything. It would tear at my soul and heart, to do such a thing when I want a child this much. I know that my genes suck, but there's nothing I can do about that. I didn't choose my crappy genes.
And suddenly I start thinking about clothes. What I should possibly wear during a pregnancy. Like I was thinking I could try those special kind of jeans if they don't look too feminine (I already wear women's jeans sometimes as it is) and combine that with men's quite large shirts and sweaters.
And baby clothes... oh my god, I want to buy that already! But it will be tricky figuring out if I should go gender neutral or mix girly with boyish. Or I could sew my own if I had the inspiration and will to do that. Or if I should go with "normal" or something goth-ish. I'd probably mix and match in a messy way that might or might not turn out so good.
Although, what kind of clothes to choose would be the least of my worry, to be perfectly honest. I don't even know if I'll raise my possible kid on Gotland or on the main land. Because I want to move back to Uppsala sometime not too far into the future. Although, I'd aim for going through pregnancy and the first year or so with my parents close at hand, because of pure practical reasons.
Yes, my parents would hate me for bringing a child to the world, but you know what? It's my life, my body, my fucking decision and they have no right to stop me from getting a child if that's what I decide for. They'd just have to deal with it. They could complain however much they want to, it's not up to them.
I really can't stop ranting about this, and I'm a little bit sorry for filling up entire walls of text about this here on my blog. It might be a bit tedious to read about by now. But it's what's on my mind and it's what's keeping me alive right now, so I think it's fair to say that it's important in that way.
It's true, I've become close to suicidal again, when I don't think about having children, because K never spoke to me again after 35 days. And I can't deal with that. I can't deal at all. And if it wasn't for these fluffy thoughts on parenthood, I could have been in that suicidal mess again by now.
So, I'm riding on those fluffy feelings of wanting a child, even though it's still way too early to tell if I'm actually ready for such a drastic change it would be to actually go through with it. And for a fraction of a second, I was actually glad in a fucked up way, that I was born with a female body, because that allows me to experience a pregnancy if that's what I truly want.
I'm not saying that I'm de-transitioning or anything even remotely close to that. I'm still a man, just sort of embracing a part of my body that I've always hated up until recently. My female parts isn't what I am, it's simply something that I have and whether or not I have those parts, I'm still a guy and always will be.
So, I'm definitely not going female again, just possibly use what I have the way it was intended, or what to say. Make use for those child bearing hips and that junk that rattles inside me that's caused so much pain and suffering and dysphoria all through my teenage years and early 20's with all that it meant with having/getting periods.
Just one child, that's all I ever want. I couldn't imagine doing it twice or more. Once I kinda wanted two kids, a boy and a girl, but what if it turns out to be two boys or two girls? Haha, I don't really care about that, but what I do care about is simply this: it would (likely) be a whole lot harder with more than one kid. And I only need one. That one I could easily favour over every other kid in the whole wide world and there would be no competition. Hope I wouldn't spoil them too much though, haha.
I have thought about one more thing though, that I probably wouldn't take advantage of daycare that much. Since I'm not dependent on a job or anything, I could easily be a stay at home parent and still get money coming in. I would love to be a stay at home parent! Seriously. And I would need to, unless I find a partner that could help me with that. But I also know that it's even harder finding a partner if you have a child, generally speaking.
Not that I'm even looking for a partner, except from K, but yeah. Yeah... that's a whole different chapter that you already know about. So, I'd aim to be a single parent, and then the partner issue, if it becomes an actual issue, can get solved whenever or never cause I forgot how to care about that. Cause it's like, with a child, I wouldn't need any other kind of love.
I do believe that, that that's the only love I need in my sad excuse for a life. And suddenly I'm not so disgusted by my body anymore, though possibly going off testosterone bothers me a bit. All the changes that could revert back and going back to the menstrual cycle with all those mood swings and what not. Having those female hormones rampaging in my body for 9 months then too. I can just barely imagine what a hell it could be like.
I've only heard stories from cis-women and a few transguys (mostly from youtube, haha). So yeah, that would definitely be something to look forward too... So it both scares me and allures me. It's such a mix of thoughts and feelings... like really, I can just barely manage to describe it all. Although I try to, cause I just can't keep it all bottled up inside me.
It's like I'm already trying to prepare myself, you know. For what it could be like. I want to know everything before making my decision definite. Right now I'm just letting myself feel these feelings and think these thoughts. Just letting it all bounce around to eventually settle for whatever conclusion I might reach.
And I don't want to stop writing about it this time, but my words reach an end and eventually I'll have to. The first person I think about telling would be my shrink. I'll see her again the 17th and maybe I'll tell her then or the next time. There's a lot about Anna going on in that office right now. Secondly I'll tell my mother, and then I don't know. Possibly the internet, or the crew.
The crew needs to know because if I do plan to go through with it I don't know what is their view point on me having an extra person living in my LSS apartment suddenly one day. If I'd have to move out or if it can be arranged in some other, less complicated way. Cause I'm gonna need a whole lot of support including LSS if I do decide to have a child.
I mean, I still can't quite take care of myself and I know that it would be wise of me to wait a few more years to see if I could get more independent first, that thought is not lost on me, but I really feel like I don't have that kind of time. I might be lost in my self fulfilling prophecy, or I'm just too damn realistic. I don't know, but I think both the male hormones rampaging through my body and time lessens my chances of being able to get pregnant in the first place, as well as my mind slowly killing me as I constantly lose my will to live.
In other words, I just don't have all eternity. I don't have the time that I might need. I'll have to make it work anyway somehow. And it feels like one of the most important decisions of my entire life, maybe of everyone's life, and I just can't let it go forever. I know, have known for 2 years now, that I want to have a child someday, whether that is within a year or 10 years from now.
I can't see myself alive in 10 years. I really, really can't. But I hope I will be, I hope I'll be alive to take care of that child and help them up to and through their adulthood. I don't want to die from my child. Of course they should outlive me, but not like that. I don't want them growing up, never have known their father, but I realise that with the mess that is my life, it might have to come to that.
I so-so accept it, yet it's tearing me apart. If only I could find something like a guarantee that I won't die before I turn 28, but I can't possibly find such a thing. All I can do is try to find reasons to hold on to life and suffer through what needs to be suffered through. Back again, is it selfish of me to want a child if that's the only thing that could keep me alive? Is that a horrible reason, or in fact a rather amazing one?
To maybe, just maybe, one day tell that child that "you kept me alive". I mean, I'm almost in tears just thinking about that. And the shudders... damn. But maybe it would be placing a terrible burden on that child as well, or if they are more grown up at that time.
It's probably not something you should say to a 7 year old or something. But maybe a 27 year old? If I ever get to live to the age of *counting* 54 or beyond. I counted it as I would be 27 when I get that child, which is about as early as I could become a parent.
I might still be 26 but I find that unlikely somehow. Also, somehow I find it appealing that I could have my child at a younger age than my parents were when they had me. Although it would be at most 3 years younger, it's still something. Growing up, I always thought that my parents were too old and everyone else's parents were a lot younger. Though that wasn't entirely true of course, since 30 isn't that old to get your first child.
It really isn't old, now pushing 30 myself, haha. I hope I'll get to my 30th birthday and celebrate it with my tiny little family. I wonder what season or month my child would be born, all of a sudden. Oh my god, I just want that kind of life so much! Right now, I can't really imagine anything more wonderful and beautiful.
What suddenly changed within me? Two years ago I never intended to have a child, now it's all I can think of. It came so suddenly this time. Hm, my child would likely never know their grand-grand parents, I just came to think of. Somehow that saddens me, cause before, when my grand mother was still sane, she used to love kids. Now she's the only one still (barely) alive and lives at a retirement home somewhere in the Stockholm area. I don't think I would ever visit her there, and definitely not bring a child to such a place.
I just wish I had a relative that likes children. Possibly my uncle, by the way, since he for quite some time had a girlfriend who has kids. I think they're about 5-7 years old. He still has contact with them. So possibly that he would be alright with meeting my possible future child. Other than that, I would likely mostly have my family to myself and my parents would help me as much as they could force themselves to, with desperate sighs and what not.
Haha, it wouldn't be that much time for sitting by the computer blogging, chatting, playing video games or doing anything for that matter when having an infant to take care of 24/7. Yeah... but oh it would be fun. I really think so. Waking up 20 times a night to feed the little bundle of joy, changing diapers and checking for fevers and other ailments, comforting and carrying them everywhere. I'd give lots of love, making up for that I wouldn't be able to breast feed them. Just holding them instead.
I don't know if you've noticed, but I refrain from calling my possible future child "it" as I don't really see children as property but more as actual, although tiny, human beings. So there is a thought behind that.
Also, I couldn't have picked a better time to get better at and like cooking, right? Cause then I could cook for that possible child. And as I said before, I'd make them anything, vegan or not. What's most important is that they get everything they need, and secondly that they would like the food.
Okay, I'm running out of words now and I'll post this massive wall of text that consists of most of my thoughts since that last entry earlier today. My head really is cramming with thoughts and feelings colouring each other in an endless spinning... whatever, and this is the only way I can at least somewhat sort it all.
Something to live for
I've been wondering too what to do with the internet if I end up with child. Like it would probably be hard to keep such information to myself. And would tumblr then find out about me being trans too? Since it would be impossible stating one fact without the other, I mean.
Maybe I wouldn't care about coming out, or I'd find another way of saying that I'm gonna have a child. But then people would probably ask who the mother is, and my child isn't gonna have a biological mother. Isn't that a little mind blowing too? That the child would have 2 biological fathers? Mother, father, they're just words really, the process is still the same as it would be for a female having her child.
But I've been thinking about it on and off, what an extraordinary thing it would be really, for me to have a child. That it would be uncommon for a transguy post transition to do such a thing. I know it's not very uncommon at all for transguys to have children before their transition, but it's not exactly the same thing.
And I'm still scared about the weight gain. Isn't that just annoying, in a way? My annoying eating disorder which I can't wrap my head around, like why would that even be important at all? Of course, of bloody course there would be weight gain with a pregnancy. There would be another person living inside my belly, that I'd also have to feed and eat more for.
I'd really have to look it up in precise details just how much more I'm supposed to eat throughout that possible pregnancy. Keep in touch with the same or another dietitian so that I'd do it right and neither starve the poor thing nor overfeed both it and myself. And maybe even somehow deal with a slight overfeeding if it comes to that. Cause that would be better than starvation any day, even I realise that.
There actually was a time when I thought about it, that if I'd ever end up pregnant and wanting to keep the baby, I would do everything wrong just because I still somehow wouldn't have cared. That I would smoke, drink and keep my bad eating habits. But now, I'm not just thinking it would be stupid, it would be incredibly wrong and horrible of me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I might have hurt my baby.
I'm maturing, okay? Possibly even becoming a responsible adult, in a way. In this certain way, I'd just love to be the best parent I could ever possibly be. Maybe it wouldn't be enough, but it's the best I can do. And I'm all for becoming a better person, in lots of ways.
Maybe I wouldn't be fit for a parent, but I'd bloody try with everything I've got and more to not be an unfit parent.
I'm glad these thoughts are back, making me smile again for a possible, much brighter but also much more complicated, future. I'll stick to my plan though, to not go jumping into anything until some time has passed. I need for this to sink in properly and I really can't rush this. That would just be irresponsible and I need for this to be an at least somewhat wise decision.
And there is sooo much to plan around, really, I don't think you have any idea. I don't think anyone does unless you have a child already, and yes, that would definitely include me too. I'm just looking at this huge other world ahead of me and I can't grasp it. Is it ahead of me? I don't know that yet.
It's soon April. Where did the time go? As far as I know, things could already be set in motion by this time next year, or I could have realised that parenthood isn't something for me after all. I will however wait a while with possible bottom surgery, let's say a few years, just to be dead sure about that.
Cause that is still something I'd like to have done sometime in the future. If I even live that long. I can't possibly know. But right now, I can see myself wanting to be alive for a child, but not without one. Anything to keep me alive? Usually yes, but in this case? I'm not that sure.
Maybe I wouldn't care about coming out, or I'd find another way of saying that I'm gonna have a child. But then people would probably ask who the mother is, and my child isn't gonna have a biological mother. Isn't that a little mind blowing too? That the child would have 2 biological fathers? Mother, father, they're just words really, the process is still the same as it would be for a female having her child.
But I've been thinking about it on and off, what an extraordinary thing it would be really, for me to have a child. That it would be uncommon for a transguy post transition to do such a thing. I know it's not very uncommon at all for transguys to have children before their transition, but it's not exactly the same thing.
And I'm still scared about the weight gain. Isn't that just annoying, in a way? My annoying eating disorder which I can't wrap my head around, like why would that even be important at all? Of course, of bloody course there would be weight gain with a pregnancy. There would be another person living inside my belly, that I'd also have to feed and eat more for.
I'd really have to look it up in precise details just how much more I'm supposed to eat throughout that possible pregnancy. Keep in touch with the same or another dietitian so that I'd do it right and neither starve the poor thing nor overfeed both it and myself. And maybe even somehow deal with a slight overfeeding if it comes to that. Cause that would be better than starvation any day, even I realise that.
There actually was a time when I thought about it, that if I'd ever end up pregnant and wanting to keep the baby, I would do everything wrong just because I still somehow wouldn't have cared. That I would smoke, drink and keep my bad eating habits. But now, I'm not just thinking it would be stupid, it would be incredibly wrong and horrible of me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I might have hurt my baby.
I'm maturing, okay? Possibly even becoming a responsible adult, in a way. In this certain way, I'd just love to be the best parent I could ever possibly be. Maybe it wouldn't be enough, but it's the best I can do. And I'm all for becoming a better person, in lots of ways.
Maybe I wouldn't be fit for a parent, but I'd bloody try with everything I've got and more to not be an unfit parent.
I'm glad these thoughts are back, making me smile again for a possible, much brighter but also much more complicated, future. I'll stick to my plan though, to not go jumping into anything until some time has passed. I need for this to sink in properly and I really can't rush this. That would just be irresponsible and I need for this to be an at least somewhat wise decision.
And there is sooo much to plan around, really, I don't think you have any idea. I don't think anyone does unless you have a child already, and yes, that would definitely include me too. I'm just looking at this huge other world ahead of me and I can't grasp it. Is it ahead of me? I don't know that yet.
It's soon April. Where did the time go? As far as I know, things could already be set in motion by this time next year, or I could have realised that parenthood isn't something for me after all. I will however wait a while with possible bottom surgery, let's say a few years, just to be dead sure about that.
Cause that is still something I'd like to have done sometime in the future. If I even live that long. I can't possibly know. But right now, I can see myself wanting to be alive for a child, but not without one. Anything to keep me alive? Usually yes, but in this case? I'm not that sure.
Saturday, 28 March 2015
And my sadness remains
That my wish to have kids is already starting to fade. Not like I don't want it, more like I can't focus back on it. I can only focus on all this pain inside me. On K and his silence. And I miss him more than ever. I just want to cry into a pillow or something, but I still can't cry. I don't know what I want to do. It just fell over me so suddenly.
I started writing an autobiographical short story about my feelings for K. I think though, that if he reads it he will know that it's him. Is that a good way of sort of telling him? I don't know if I ever should tell him.
Maybe it will come off as an obsession more than love? I'm afraid so, but what can I do? I don't know if I even want to post it anywhere at all now. If I even finish it. It's about just one event, when I told him that I liked him, and I don't write any kind of information about him at all.
Not giving any description of what he looks like except from casually describing his mouth and eyes at one point. No description of his personality either really. I want it to be about me and my own stupid feelings. I just want people to understand.
But how could they, ever? It doesn't matter what I write, my words are useless and do people even want to know? About what is most important in my entire life, my reason to live and die? Yeah, why would anyone care.
I feel so lonely today, and scared. That he's never gonna want to talk to me again. That we'll never have those long conversations from mid day to early morning about anything from alcohol to school, from mental illness to music and all the other stuff we used to talk about.
I ache for him, bleed internally for him. And I feel so damn lost it scares the living shit out of me. Cause I can't focus on wanting a child when I feel like I can't live without K.
Like I'm just counting the days, 34 days, and withering in his absence. I can't think of anything else, so I write about it. Oh hell, what do I care if he figures it out or not. It's not like I have anything to lose.
http://jigsawjohns-novels.blogspot.se/2015/03/remains.html
I started writing an autobiographical short story about my feelings for K. I think though, that if he reads it he will know that it's him. Is that a good way of sort of telling him? I don't know if I ever should tell him.
Maybe it will come off as an obsession more than love? I'm afraid so, but what can I do? I don't know if I even want to post it anywhere at all now. If I even finish it. It's about just one event, when I told him that I liked him, and I don't write any kind of information about him at all.
Not giving any description of what he looks like except from casually describing his mouth and eyes at one point. No description of his personality either really. I want it to be about me and my own stupid feelings. I just want people to understand.
But how could they, ever? It doesn't matter what I write, my words are useless and do people even want to know? About what is most important in my entire life, my reason to live and die? Yeah, why would anyone care.
I feel so lonely today, and scared. That he's never gonna want to talk to me again. That we'll never have those long conversations from mid day to early morning about anything from alcohol to school, from mental illness to music and all the other stuff we used to talk about.
I ache for him, bleed internally for him. And I feel so damn lost it scares the living shit out of me. Cause I can't focus on wanting a child when I feel like I can't live without K.
Like I'm just counting the days, 34 days, and withering in his absence. I can't think of anything else, so I write about it. Oh hell, what do I care if he figures it out or not. It's not like I have anything to lose.
http://jigsawjohns-novels.blogspot.se/2015/03/remains.html
Can't let go
For every new story that I write, I try to do it better. I don't know if you can tell, but I'm constantly trying to become a better writer. And although I really love my book Grimston Estate, I see errors with it. Sometimes I just want to re-write the whole shit and start from the beginning again.
Like write it in a completely different way with far less conversation and the characters not doing the same things all the time. But it was very limiting, figuring out things for them to do in a town that almost completely lacked electricity. Like no tv, no computer, no cell phones (although that was because of another reason) and so on.
They basically ate, smoked and drank all the time. I think Lydia ate 3 times and smoked... I have no idea, maybe 20 times and drank maybe 10 ten times as she turned to drinking when life started to get sour for her. Well, more sour than it already was at that point.
Harry, who was an alcoholic drank quite a lot too, obviously. He was one of the few characters who did not smoke at any point in the book, while Lydia, Kian and Candice where at it quite a lot. I was thinking, that broken people have a tendency to smoke more than the average. And they were all broken in Grimston Estate, I mention that in the first paragraph, on the first page.
I did that mostly to prepare my readers at least somewhat, for all the atrocities that happened later on. Though, I think I did put those awful things into the book rather carefully, so that you wouldn't be completely shocked into them. I have no idea really what my friends will think of the whole lot of it once they reach the end.
Maybe I should write thanks to all of my friends who are/will be helping me in the book later on? Would that be neat? Cause I think you'll deserve at least some form of credit for helping me. I see it as that, that you're doing a pretty damn wonderful thing for me, that you're willing to take time to at least just leaf through it. I will be forever grateful.
It's just that I can't even remember what my original storyline for Grimston was, back in 2012 at that café in Uppsala. I knew I was gonna have Kian, Marie and Lydia already back then, but I think I added Harry later on because Kian really needed a best friend. He's my most important supportive character and the support he gives both Kian and Lydia... it's like... damn.
I realise I don't talk that much about Marie, the 8 year old girl, but that's probably because everything about her is so very complicated and I don't want to spill too much information about her. Not even about who her parents are. It all ties together and she's the key to the whole plot. But, she's Kian's friend all through the story but won't interact that much more with the other characters. Well, in a way she does, but that would be telling too much.
I can assure you though, there's no pedophilia involved, not to her or any other character. That kind of awfulness I really didn't want to get into. At all. Mostly because, I don't know, it just makes me feel uneasy to even think about that kind of thing. It's just, ugh. Though something has happened to her, something has happened to all of my characters. They each have their stories and depths. But I can't say what it is.
Ugh, it's like it's killing me to keep so much information to myself. That's almost the hardest part of it all. To not just spill the entire plot and ruin it for everyone. I keep that in my private diary, because I just have to spill it out somewhere. Where no one else can find it unless they go rampaging my computer.
I think though, that I made Harry one of the more developing characters. The way he goes from being a little ignorant to a rock to everyone, basically. And he's more understanding than he lets on in the beginning. Lydia goes through the most and she's my strongest character. Hopefully that will be noticed and not just mentioned.
I don't know, I really love Kian too, but he's not as developed and sometimes I can't help but dislike him too. I don't want my readers hating him, but a part of me is scared that it's possible that they will at the end. He's a very deep and complex character with many different sides to him, but he doesn't change much. He's the mentally ill, the artist and also in a way, a monster. Wrapped up in himself, yet also very caring and kind. I don't know if my readers will even get him, if maybe he's too scattered and weird.
Yeah, I'm worried, but also, I'm damn proud of my work as a writer. It's been quite a project and possibly the biggest artwork I've ever done, if you can even call it that. The many angles I've thought about it in, a few lines here and there that I'm just so damn proud of myself for coming up with. That send chills down my spine, make me shudder, cry or laugh. Little glimpses of gold, almost.
I don't think I can write more without saying too much. Although I want to, I can't let it go.
Like write it in a completely different way with far less conversation and the characters not doing the same things all the time. But it was very limiting, figuring out things for them to do in a town that almost completely lacked electricity. Like no tv, no computer, no cell phones (although that was because of another reason) and so on.
They basically ate, smoked and drank all the time. I think Lydia ate 3 times and smoked... I have no idea, maybe 20 times and drank maybe 10 ten times as she turned to drinking when life started to get sour for her. Well, more sour than it already was at that point.
Harry, who was an alcoholic drank quite a lot too, obviously. He was one of the few characters who did not smoke at any point in the book, while Lydia, Kian and Candice where at it quite a lot. I was thinking, that broken people have a tendency to smoke more than the average. And they were all broken in Grimston Estate, I mention that in the first paragraph, on the first page.
I did that mostly to prepare my readers at least somewhat, for all the atrocities that happened later on. Though, I think I did put those awful things into the book rather carefully, so that you wouldn't be completely shocked into them. I have no idea really what my friends will think of the whole lot of it once they reach the end.
Maybe I should write thanks to all of my friends who are/will be helping me in the book later on? Would that be neat? Cause I think you'll deserve at least some form of credit for helping me. I see it as that, that you're doing a pretty damn wonderful thing for me, that you're willing to take time to at least just leaf through it. I will be forever grateful.
It's just that I can't even remember what my original storyline for Grimston was, back in 2012 at that café in Uppsala. I knew I was gonna have Kian, Marie and Lydia already back then, but I think I added Harry later on because Kian really needed a best friend. He's my most important supportive character and the support he gives both Kian and Lydia... it's like... damn.
I realise I don't talk that much about Marie, the 8 year old girl, but that's probably because everything about her is so very complicated and I don't want to spill too much information about her. Not even about who her parents are. It all ties together and she's the key to the whole plot. But, she's Kian's friend all through the story but won't interact that much more with the other characters. Well, in a way she does, but that would be telling too much.
I can assure you though, there's no pedophilia involved, not to her or any other character. That kind of awfulness I really didn't want to get into. At all. Mostly because, I don't know, it just makes me feel uneasy to even think about that kind of thing. It's just, ugh. Though something has happened to her, something has happened to all of my characters. They each have their stories and depths. But I can't say what it is.
Ugh, it's like it's killing me to keep so much information to myself. That's almost the hardest part of it all. To not just spill the entire plot and ruin it for everyone. I keep that in my private diary, because I just have to spill it out somewhere. Where no one else can find it unless they go rampaging my computer.
I think though, that I made Harry one of the more developing characters. The way he goes from being a little ignorant to a rock to everyone, basically. And he's more understanding than he lets on in the beginning. Lydia goes through the most and she's my strongest character. Hopefully that will be noticed and not just mentioned.
I don't know, I really love Kian too, but he's not as developed and sometimes I can't help but dislike him too. I don't want my readers hating him, but a part of me is scared that it's possible that they will at the end. He's a very deep and complex character with many different sides to him, but he doesn't change much. He's the mentally ill, the artist and also in a way, a monster. Wrapped up in himself, yet also very caring and kind. I don't know if my readers will even get him, if maybe he's too scattered and weird.
Yeah, I'm worried, but also, I'm damn proud of my work as a writer. It's been quite a project and possibly the biggest artwork I've ever done, if you can even call it that. The many angles I've thought about it in, a few lines here and there that I'm just so damn proud of myself for coming up with. That send chills down my spine, make me shudder, cry or laugh. Little glimpses of gold, almost.
I don't think I can write more without saying too much. Although I want to, I can't let it go.
One year post op
I've noticed that if my shirts and sweaters aren't completely flat at the front I get a nagging feeling that it looks like I have boobs. It's very annoying and I try to flatten it out. It's worst when I sit down a little hunched over, as I almost always sit, because of my posture. So yeah... I still get some kind of dysphoria concerning my chest even though I am post op.
About that, it was my one year anniversary on being post op a couple of weeks ago (March 10th) and I completely forgot taking pictures of my chest and writing an update. So I guess I can just whip something up right now.
So, it's been healing great, although a little slow, since the scars are still very visible on my pale skin, they are mostly pink and a little purple at some places. They're very uneven because of how the stitches were placed, but not very wide. Around a few millimetres, and maybe 5-6 millimetres at the widest.
I do have sensation in my nipples despite not wanting that and choosing an operation technique that should have killed my sensation there. It's a dulled sensation, and I only feel it upon pressure. Otherwise, I have almost full sensation in the whole area, except from directly on the scars.
You can't see any scarring around the nipples, although they are very weird in colour. Darker around and very light in the middle. I have no idea why that is, but it could be because the healing process took much longer in the middle than at the edges.
What more to say about it? Oh yes, the whole area is not as "puffy" as it was right after the operation and the scars are now much softer. Not much has happened though, during the last 4 or 5 months or so. Now I'm just waiting for the scars to get even lighter in time and I might start using zinc paste on them again, as it bleaches scarring in a safe way. Very safe, trust me.
Also, I'm getting all the more hairy on my chest, that for some random reason started just a few months after the operation. I doubt it's actually related though. I have weird hairs growing where my nipples used to be, which is right above the scars. I think it looks kinda weird, haha, so I usually shave that off. But I keep the hair on the middle of my chest that connects with my happy trail and well, yeah. It goes all the way down.
Always when I start talking about my post op result I get into talking about the changes of testosterone too. Is that even interesting, after 1 plus 1,5 years on it? Right now, it's not that much happening anymore, just that I continue to get hairier in surprising places. Including my facial hair, which is slowly filling out more to the cheeks but still hasn't reached my upper lip. No idea why that seems to come last for me, as it seems to come first for most transguys.
Anyway, that should do for an update. I don't want to go on ranting about this forever. I'll probably update about it again if or when I go off testosterone for trying to have a child. But probably not before then.
About that, it was my one year anniversary on being post op a couple of weeks ago (March 10th) and I completely forgot taking pictures of my chest and writing an update. So I guess I can just whip something up right now.
So, it's been healing great, although a little slow, since the scars are still very visible on my pale skin, they are mostly pink and a little purple at some places. They're very uneven because of how the stitches were placed, but not very wide. Around a few millimetres, and maybe 5-6 millimetres at the widest.
I do have sensation in my nipples despite not wanting that and choosing an operation technique that should have killed my sensation there. It's a dulled sensation, and I only feel it upon pressure. Otherwise, I have almost full sensation in the whole area, except from directly on the scars.
You can't see any scarring around the nipples, although they are very weird in colour. Darker around and very light in the middle. I have no idea why that is, but it could be because the healing process took much longer in the middle than at the edges.
What more to say about it? Oh yes, the whole area is not as "puffy" as it was right after the operation and the scars are now much softer. Not much has happened though, during the last 4 or 5 months or so. Now I'm just waiting for the scars to get even lighter in time and I might start using zinc paste on them again, as it bleaches scarring in a safe way. Very safe, trust me.
Also, I'm getting all the more hairy on my chest, that for some random reason started just a few months after the operation. I doubt it's actually related though. I have weird hairs growing where my nipples used to be, which is right above the scars. I think it looks kinda weird, haha, so I usually shave that off. But I keep the hair on the middle of my chest that connects with my happy trail and well, yeah. It goes all the way down.
Always when I start talking about my post op result I get into talking about the changes of testosterone too. Is that even interesting, after 1 plus 1,5 years on it? Right now, it's not that much happening anymore, just that I continue to get hairier in surprising places. Including my facial hair, which is slowly filling out more to the cheeks but still hasn't reached my upper lip. No idea why that seems to come last for me, as it seems to come first for most transguys.
Anyway, that should do for an update. I don't want to go on ranting about this forever. I'll probably update about it again if or when I go off testosterone for trying to have a child. But probably not before then.
Friday, 27 March 2015
More things I've thought of
I've been thinking about names. Like, I know I want to name a daughter either Alice or Lydia, but a son? On my way back home from my shrink's office, I thought about the name Caspian for a boy, and/or Isak with whatever spelling. In a way, maybe it's wrong of me... but I kind hope it would be a boy.
Mostly because I never had a brother or any special contact with any male relatives. I've mostly surrounded myself with girls and women in my life, and I don't know, but I think it would be neat with a male relative I can completely adore. I wouldn't mind a baby girl though. I believe I would love my child endlessly no matter what sex they're born as.
And they could turn out intersex or transgender. I would though, not treat my child any different depending on their sex. I would simply treat them like a human being, a very precious human being. Buy them the clothes and toys that they want and like. I would definitely not impose any gender role on them. Maybe that's a given, considering who and what I am, but I think it's important to mention anyway.
I also thought about what I would do if they turn out intersex, if I'd be somehow forced to pick a sex for the birth certificate or whatever. I would never want to force a gender on my child in that or any other case. I thought about it circles for many minutes.
And then I thought about school, that I wouldn't be able to possibly hide my pregnancy there, it would probably have to be so that I'll come out as trans there then. Because not only is a pregnancy hard to hide (I can only imagine), I'd also have to explain why I'd suddenly leave when it's time to give birth and be on leave for some time after. I don't know how that would work either.
So much that I don't know, and my head hurts from all the thoughts, but they make my smile, a genuine and warm smile that I'd love to hold on to. It's like... lately, just thinking about creating my own little family is what's holding me above the surface. I still haven't told anyone, I want to get this deal about Anna out and over first. And I want to keep those thoughts and feelings to myself a little longer, let them grow or decrease, whatever happens.
Cause who knows, maybe I'll change my mind again? I don't think so right now, but it's been coming and going these past 2 years, my thought on parenthood. But it's never been this strong and intense before.
I've thought about it, that maybe I want to teach my child English as well as Swedish as they grow up, for them to possibly become bilingual from early on. I know my spoken English is far from flawless, it's decent and alright at best. Also, I would not impose my or anyone else's religious views on my child, and try to teach them good morals instead of my sucky ones.
I'd try to do everything right from start, the way I would have wanted to be raised, with much more freedom and actually be there for my child whenever they need/want me to. As much as I could, be a good parent, friend and teacher. Never judge them, always accept them and try my best to understand everything they'll go through.
It's hard though, I have to admit, thinking about them growing up to become an adult eventually. Cause I'm so scared of having them taken away from me at an early age, I try to focus on the first few years when they're still a toddler.
Maybe my fears are a bit illogical or irrational, maybe someone has to be a lot more of a mess for something like that to happen. I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever harm my child unintentionally or intentionally. If I'd lose my temper or whatever. I have no idea how good or bad I am with children since I've very rarely interacted with any child of any age.
I have held a toddler once before, his name was Hugo and at the time he was about 1 year old. He would be about 12-13 by now. I was 14 years old then and a little bit freaked, but it was nice somehow. He was cool about it, and probably just as surprised as I was. His mother got a phone call or something and was like "here, hold this for me" just out of the blue. I didn't expect the child to be so heavy at that young age, but maybe my young and girly arms lacked a bit of strength too.
I still find myself thinking about those 2 or so minutes of my life, when I for the first time held a child, and the only time so far. I really don't have much experience with children at all, I hardly even know what to say around them. It's mostly just awkward. I talk normally to children though, I don't change my voice or anything. I only found that weird and creepy when adults did that with me when I was a child.
So, the only real experiences I have is about my own childhood, the view from the eyes of a child. And holding that baby boy Hugo for 2 minutes. Oh yeah, now I remember! In the car on my way back from my shrink, I also thought about that I wouldn't be able to breast feed my child, since I have no boobs anymore and hardly any breast tissue at all. I'd have to use milk replacement stuff or what it's called.
See, I really think about a whole lot of stuff, anything that comes to mind. But mostly I just fantasise about what it all could be like. Oh, and I wouldn't force them to become vegan or vegetarian either. I'd most likely feed them whatever and then let them decide on their own. In general, I would let my child decide as much as possible on their own. The only things I'd "force" them to would be like dentists, doctor's appointments, school, possibly pre-school and stuff like that.
In other words, I'd give them as much freedom as I possibly can without it being dangerous in some way. This is so fun, thinking about it like this. All those little things I've always had in mind but never really thought about. Oh, I keep forgetting things all the time! I also thought about what I would do about my butt load of medication while being pregnant. Some of them could be harmful for the baby.
Did I mention these thoughts are seemingly never ending? I hope they continue keeping me alive and at least somewhat sane, or crazy about getting a kid. That kind of crazy is good, in my opinion. But oh damn, what am I gonna do about my parents' complete lack of support? They've always said that if me or my sister ever get kids we'd have to take care of them ourselves. I'll never be able to do this entirely on my own.
I'll have to solve that problem somehow. Maybe slowly try to tell my mother about how I want a kid and carefully make sure she can't talk me out of it, once I've made up my mind for sure. Be a bit tactful but firm at the same time. I don't know what else to do. Cause sure I can find every little bit of information possible online or wherever, but I mean I can't even get to the hospital on my own.
I just want to act mature in this and not just one day state that "oops, I'm pregnant, take care of me" cause that would be stupid and irresponsible. Nope, I wanna go about it with tact and careful planning. As much as I possibly can. And I'm gonna need all the help I can get.
I'll still wait though, try not to start spinning it already. Let the thoughts and feelings continue for I don't know, a few months at least. Talk about it with my shrink and I could also get a test done to see if I'm fertile, but won't go much further than that until in at least 6 months. If I can possibly hold myself for that long... As I said, need to be a bit mature and tactful. I don't want this fucking up and becoming a disaster somehow.
I think the worst that could happen is me getting knocked up and then realising I wasn't at all ready or prepared for parenthood. Aaand one more thing I just thought of, is that it's very likely my child will get asperger syndrome too, as it runs in my entire family, at least back to my grand parents. But having it myself, I don't think that would be an impossible struggle or anything.
Right now, my biggest fear is what if I can't get pregnant at all. Wow, I've never before even had that fear. I even before wished that I couldn't. Mind blowing. Okay, I'm just gonna write forever if I don't stop myself now.
Mostly because I never had a brother or any special contact with any male relatives. I've mostly surrounded myself with girls and women in my life, and I don't know, but I think it would be neat with a male relative I can completely adore. I wouldn't mind a baby girl though. I believe I would love my child endlessly no matter what sex they're born as.
And they could turn out intersex or transgender. I would though, not treat my child any different depending on their sex. I would simply treat them like a human being, a very precious human being. Buy them the clothes and toys that they want and like. I would definitely not impose any gender role on them. Maybe that's a given, considering who and what I am, but I think it's important to mention anyway.
I also thought about what I would do if they turn out intersex, if I'd be somehow forced to pick a sex for the birth certificate or whatever. I would never want to force a gender on my child in that or any other case. I thought about it circles for many minutes.
And then I thought about school, that I wouldn't be able to possibly hide my pregnancy there, it would probably have to be so that I'll come out as trans there then. Because not only is a pregnancy hard to hide (I can only imagine), I'd also have to explain why I'd suddenly leave when it's time to give birth and be on leave for some time after. I don't know how that would work either.
So much that I don't know, and my head hurts from all the thoughts, but they make my smile, a genuine and warm smile that I'd love to hold on to. It's like... lately, just thinking about creating my own little family is what's holding me above the surface. I still haven't told anyone, I want to get this deal about Anna out and over first. And I want to keep those thoughts and feelings to myself a little longer, let them grow or decrease, whatever happens.
Cause who knows, maybe I'll change my mind again? I don't think so right now, but it's been coming and going these past 2 years, my thought on parenthood. But it's never been this strong and intense before.
I've thought about it, that maybe I want to teach my child English as well as Swedish as they grow up, for them to possibly become bilingual from early on. I know my spoken English is far from flawless, it's decent and alright at best. Also, I would not impose my or anyone else's religious views on my child, and try to teach them good morals instead of my sucky ones.
I'd try to do everything right from start, the way I would have wanted to be raised, with much more freedom and actually be there for my child whenever they need/want me to. As much as I could, be a good parent, friend and teacher. Never judge them, always accept them and try my best to understand everything they'll go through.
It's hard though, I have to admit, thinking about them growing up to become an adult eventually. Cause I'm so scared of having them taken away from me at an early age, I try to focus on the first few years when they're still a toddler.
Maybe my fears are a bit illogical or irrational, maybe someone has to be a lot more of a mess for something like that to happen. I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever harm my child unintentionally or intentionally. If I'd lose my temper or whatever. I have no idea how good or bad I am with children since I've very rarely interacted with any child of any age.
I have held a toddler once before, his name was Hugo and at the time he was about 1 year old. He would be about 12-13 by now. I was 14 years old then and a little bit freaked, but it was nice somehow. He was cool about it, and probably just as surprised as I was. His mother got a phone call or something and was like "here, hold this for me" just out of the blue. I didn't expect the child to be so heavy at that young age, but maybe my young and girly arms lacked a bit of strength too.
I still find myself thinking about those 2 or so minutes of my life, when I for the first time held a child, and the only time so far. I really don't have much experience with children at all, I hardly even know what to say around them. It's mostly just awkward. I talk normally to children though, I don't change my voice or anything. I only found that weird and creepy when adults did that with me when I was a child.
So, the only real experiences I have is about my own childhood, the view from the eyes of a child. And holding that baby boy Hugo for 2 minutes. Oh yeah, now I remember! In the car on my way back from my shrink, I also thought about that I wouldn't be able to breast feed my child, since I have no boobs anymore and hardly any breast tissue at all. I'd have to use milk replacement stuff or what it's called.
See, I really think about a whole lot of stuff, anything that comes to mind. But mostly I just fantasise about what it all could be like. Oh, and I wouldn't force them to become vegan or vegetarian either. I'd most likely feed them whatever and then let them decide on their own. In general, I would let my child decide as much as possible on their own. The only things I'd "force" them to would be like dentists, doctor's appointments, school, possibly pre-school and stuff like that.
In other words, I'd give them as much freedom as I possibly can without it being dangerous in some way. This is so fun, thinking about it like this. All those little things I've always had in mind but never really thought about. Oh, I keep forgetting things all the time! I also thought about what I would do about my butt load of medication while being pregnant. Some of them could be harmful for the baby.
Did I mention these thoughts are seemingly never ending? I hope they continue keeping me alive and at least somewhat sane, or crazy about getting a kid. That kind of crazy is good, in my opinion. But oh damn, what am I gonna do about my parents' complete lack of support? They've always said that if me or my sister ever get kids we'd have to take care of them ourselves. I'll never be able to do this entirely on my own.
I'll have to solve that problem somehow. Maybe slowly try to tell my mother about how I want a kid and carefully make sure she can't talk me out of it, once I've made up my mind for sure. Be a bit tactful but firm at the same time. I don't know what else to do. Cause sure I can find every little bit of information possible online or wherever, but I mean I can't even get to the hospital on my own.
I just want to act mature in this and not just one day state that "oops, I'm pregnant, take care of me" cause that would be stupid and irresponsible. Nope, I wanna go about it with tact and careful planning. As much as I possibly can. And I'm gonna need all the help I can get.
I'll still wait though, try not to start spinning it already. Let the thoughts and feelings continue for I don't know, a few months at least. Talk about it with my shrink and I could also get a test done to see if I'm fertile, but won't go much further than that until in at least 6 months. If I can possibly hold myself for that long... As I said, need to be a bit mature and tactful. I don't want this fucking up and becoming a disaster somehow.
I think the worst that could happen is me getting knocked up and then realising I wasn't at all ready or prepared for parenthood. Aaand one more thing I just thought of, is that it's very likely my child will get asperger syndrome too, as it runs in my entire family, at least back to my grand parents. But having it myself, I don't think that would be an impossible struggle or anything.
Right now, my biggest fear is what if I can't get pregnant at all. Wow, I've never before even had that fear. I even before wished that I couldn't. Mind blowing. Okay, I'm just gonna write forever if I don't stop myself now.
Way to start a day
My contact person just called, as scheduled. Apparently the doctor is on leave for a week or so, which I don't really care about. She told me again how good it was that I had not engaged in any self harming behaviours and I'm like thinking yeah sure lol. Cause the only reason things have gone good for me lately is my thoughts on having children. And I didn't want to tell her about that.
It was only about 10 minutes long, our conversation, so not that much was discussed. I've just finished with my morning coffee, but continue to smoke endlessly.
And I still think about my future kid, what it could be like. I think random books lately, or at least Ann Heberlein's book, has made me think more about it. How she describes how a mother carries her child under her heart, it's just so damn beautiful. Her love for her own children somehow affected me, how she could go on living because of them, and also how she could not.
That she describes so understandingly how having children won't fix you, or having a loving husband for that matter. And I know having a child won't fix me either, but I do believe it could give me a reason to go on fighting. And I'm stuck on my reasons for wanting a child being selfish, cause what would I say if they one days would ask me why I decided to have them?
Maybe everyone, who's had a child or several, had selfish reasons? Just that I'm too focused on my future child's feelings to find my reasons good enough? Could I even possibly be too focused on such a thing? Isn't that, despite everything, like the best thing to ever keep in mind? My future child's feelings. That they would go before my own stupid feelings.
Maybe I wouldn't be such a bad parent after all. If only I'd strive towards being a good parent and do the best I can, wouldn't that somehow be enough? I am, after all, a good person deep at heart and only want others well. And a child, that child would come before everyone else and be far more important than my own sorry life.
I really do believe that, I'm not as selfish as I think I am. My reasons should matter less than I think they would, as long as I'm prepared to care for that child and wanting to give them the best life I could possibly give them. That is what matters, and now I think I'm onto something again.
But I don't know what more to say about it. I don't feel that good today. I don't know why. Something's twisting in my stomach when I think about it. About the psychiatry and what's in the mix right now. What will my shrink say? I have no idea what to expect, but I hope she'll be understanding of my past secret. That I kept within me for 10 years and 7 years before that.
I'm finally willing to discuss it and maybe get some kind of help for it. I don't know. But I ache for a diagnosis and I don't think it's as simple as "just hearing voices" as it stems from a childhood trauma and is far more complicated than just a voice in my head. Hopefully, I'll be able to communicate that and stress that I very much would like to know exactly what the fuck is going on.
Without starting to ramble different diagnoses I've been looking at and the diagnostic criteria for those. I don't know, because nothing really seems to fit. And that's a little why I finally come to them about it, since I don't have the slightest clue and it's driving me crazy. If I wasn't crazy already, that is.
For all the times my shrink has mentioned that I'm not crazy, I can't help but thinking would she still say that if she knew about Anna? I mean, I know hearing voices doesn't necessarily make you crazy, but the way I do... what else would it be? I don't mind being crazy, I seriously don't. What I do mind is not being able to function.
As simple as that, and it can mean so much. What makes me not being able to function? Is it Anna, my asperger, borderline or something else? That I don't believe that I'm human, or what else? So many different things dragging me down in various directions and for various reasons.
But I just want my answer, how crazy am I? Or more like, in what way? My head filled to the brim with questions today, along with some general rambling. And I'm so tired, despite just having my morning coffee. I can't focus that well on anything else than of how tired I am. Things pop up in fragments as I try to distort and twist and turn them for whatever reasons.
Cause I doubt it's because I want to understand them. It's too early for that, but my mind is racing wild anyway.
It was only about 10 minutes long, our conversation, so not that much was discussed. I've just finished with my morning coffee, but continue to smoke endlessly.
And I still think about my future kid, what it could be like. I think random books lately, or at least Ann Heberlein's book, has made me think more about it. How she describes how a mother carries her child under her heart, it's just so damn beautiful. Her love for her own children somehow affected me, how she could go on living because of them, and also how she could not.
That she describes so understandingly how having children won't fix you, or having a loving husband for that matter. And I know having a child won't fix me either, but I do believe it could give me a reason to go on fighting. And I'm stuck on my reasons for wanting a child being selfish, cause what would I say if they one days would ask me why I decided to have them?
Maybe everyone, who's had a child or several, had selfish reasons? Just that I'm too focused on my future child's feelings to find my reasons good enough? Could I even possibly be too focused on such a thing? Isn't that, despite everything, like the best thing to ever keep in mind? My future child's feelings. That they would go before my own stupid feelings.
Maybe I wouldn't be such a bad parent after all. If only I'd strive towards being a good parent and do the best I can, wouldn't that somehow be enough? I am, after all, a good person deep at heart and only want others well. And a child, that child would come before everyone else and be far more important than my own sorry life.
I really do believe that, I'm not as selfish as I think I am. My reasons should matter less than I think they would, as long as I'm prepared to care for that child and wanting to give them the best life I could possibly give them. That is what matters, and now I think I'm onto something again.
But I don't know what more to say about it. I don't feel that good today. I don't know why. Something's twisting in my stomach when I think about it. About the psychiatry and what's in the mix right now. What will my shrink say? I have no idea what to expect, but I hope she'll be understanding of my past secret. That I kept within me for 10 years and 7 years before that.
I'm finally willing to discuss it and maybe get some kind of help for it. I don't know. But I ache for a diagnosis and I don't think it's as simple as "just hearing voices" as it stems from a childhood trauma and is far more complicated than just a voice in my head. Hopefully, I'll be able to communicate that and stress that I very much would like to know exactly what the fuck is going on.
Without starting to ramble different diagnoses I've been looking at and the diagnostic criteria for those. I don't know, because nothing really seems to fit. And that's a little why I finally come to them about it, since I don't have the slightest clue and it's driving me crazy. If I wasn't crazy already, that is.
For all the times my shrink has mentioned that I'm not crazy, I can't help but thinking would she still say that if she knew about Anna? I mean, I know hearing voices doesn't necessarily make you crazy, but the way I do... what else would it be? I don't mind being crazy, I seriously don't. What I do mind is not being able to function.
As simple as that, and it can mean so much. What makes me not being able to function? Is it Anna, my asperger, borderline or something else? That I don't believe that I'm human, or what else? So many different things dragging me down in various directions and for various reasons.
But I just want my answer, how crazy am I? Or more like, in what way? My head filled to the brim with questions today, along with some general rambling. And I'm so tired, despite just having my morning coffee. I can't focus that well on anything else than of how tired I am. Things pop up in fragments as I try to distort and twist and turn them for whatever reasons.
Cause I doubt it's because I want to understand them. It's too early for that, but my mind is racing wild anyway.
Thursday, 26 March 2015
A world of complications
It's so weird. Six months ago I was so sure that I wanted bottom surgery and hysterectomy, like I was dying for it, you know. I wrote so much about it, even went outside of my comfort zone to talk about my junk and all those feelings I had about it. And now... 6 months later, I don't want it anymore. Now I want to keep everything intact so that I can have a biological child.
I'm so glad that I gave myself even more time to think about it, despite thinking that I was certain. These life-changing decisions sure are exhausting and can I soon be done with such? No, I think everyone is faced with life-changing decisions all one's life, no matter if trans or not. It's just different decisions. Like I've never had to think about career or marriage, but I think about surgeries and parenthood instead. It's a mix of trans-related stuff and non trans-related stuff.
But mostly it is trans-related in some way or another. In a way I'm now glad that I didn't start my transition earlier, I would probably have cried rivers by now if I had had a hysterectomy earlier, like I don't know, years ago when I definitely wanted that. I hated children when I was a child, teenager and into my early 20's. I was repulsed and freaked at the thought of ending up pregnant.
I thought for sure I was never gonna want a child. Although, somewhere in the back of my mind the dream has always been there. Ambivalent, yes, but I wasn't aware of just how ambivalent I was when it came to that.
You might not know this, but back in junior high, when I was 13 years old, I wrote half a book on my first computer about myself that then became about a future me, a possible future that was both good and bad.
In that story, I was a woman (I didn't know I was trans yet) and got married to a guy that I knew in real life, although it was a one way crush fairly similar to my present situation with K (my heart has literally always been completely hopeless). Anyways, in that story I got married to that guy and we had a child together when I had gotten to my early 30's, I think. The child was never conceived before I stopped writing though.
I'm not entirely sure what happened to that story, just that somehow the document broke down and could not be restored, then the whole computer crashed too. So it's completely lost, I can never get to read that story or share it ever again. Completely gone. Anyway, it reminds me that even when I was as young as 13 years old, there was a part of me that wanted a child someday.
But at that age, I had my illusion that if I ever had a child, that child would be a perfect little angel and it was only that kind of child I could ever imagine having. It's a lot different now, of course. Just that knowing that if I ever have a child, or when I do, that child would be perfect in my eyes no matter what a mess they might turn into. With my genes, I can only imagine. Hopefully, they won't be too much like me.
Is it rare to think like that? That yes I want a biological child but hoping they won't become too much like me? I'm just so aware of my flaws, those that can be inherited or taught. My parents are sad that I got so much shit from them, and in return, I'd be sad if my child would get a lot of shit from me. Everything from bad teeth to mental illness, the list is actually quite endless.
Would it be cruel of me to sort of ignore that though? If I'd let my selfish reasons for having a child come first and then just deal with the rest if that becomes an issue? Would I be an embarrassing parent, by the way? My parents rarely were, although they had their moments too. For some reason, it's like I want to get pregnant for the same reason as my mother had, and it tears me apart, cause I literally hated her for having that reason.
I don't want my child to hate me, for any reason. Although, maybe I could just be more tactful about it than my mother was. I don't know much about my father, or what his reasons were. Despite him living in the same house as my mother, I don't really know him that well. I don't really mind not knowing him, it's just awkward, but I don't know why. (Could be my seriously fucked nightly dreams that's been haunting me since I was about 12, but they can't ruin things so much, can they?)
So mostly I compare myself to my mother, in more aspects than just this. And also because, despite being male like my father (sort of, but you get it) if I'll have a child it would be closer to my mother's experiences and thoughts and feelings about it, if you know what I mean. Because my father obviously didn't carry or conceive me.
I learn to do things on my own, and somehow, even if I had wanted it, I just know I won't get my parents' support on this. They might sigh and help with some of the practical once they realise that they can't talk me out of it, or if it's already "too late" so to say. But they wouldn't emotionally support me or be there to hold my hand. They would likely see it as me getting into yet another mess that they just have to help me through cause who else would?
Yeah, who else would help me through it if not them? I have so much to think about, how can I possibly do it on my own? I mean I can't even discuss with my endocrinologist about stopping testo, or go to a check up at the gyn to see if I even can get pregnant without having my mother drive me there. A whole world of complications just arose before me... sigh. I knew it wasn't gonna be easy, but damn.
I'm so glad that I gave myself even more time to think about it, despite thinking that I was certain. These life-changing decisions sure are exhausting and can I soon be done with such? No, I think everyone is faced with life-changing decisions all one's life, no matter if trans or not. It's just different decisions. Like I've never had to think about career or marriage, but I think about surgeries and parenthood instead. It's a mix of trans-related stuff and non trans-related stuff.
But mostly it is trans-related in some way or another. In a way I'm now glad that I didn't start my transition earlier, I would probably have cried rivers by now if I had had a hysterectomy earlier, like I don't know, years ago when I definitely wanted that. I hated children when I was a child, teenager and into my early 20's. I was repulsed and freaked at the thought of ending up pregnant.
I thought for sure I was never gonna want a child. Although, somewhere in the back of my mind the dream has always been there. Ambivalent, yes, but I wasn't aware of just how ambivalent I was when it came to that.
You might not know this, but back in junior high, when I was 13 years old, I wrote half a book on my first computer about myself that then became about a future me, a possible future that was both good and bad.
In that story, I was a woman (I didn't know I was trans yet) and got married to a guy that I knew in real life, although it was a one way crush fairly similar to my present situation with K (my heart has literally always been completely hopeless). Anyways, in that story I got married to that guy and we had a child together when I had gotten to my early 30's, I think. The child was never conceived before I stopped writing though.
I'm not entirely sure what happened to that story, just that somehow the document broke down and could not be restored, then the whole computer crashed too. So it's completely lost, I can never get to read that story or share it ever again. Completely gone. Anyway, it reminds me that even when I was as young as 13 years old, there was a part of me that wanted a child someday.
But at that age, I had my illusion that if I ever had a child, that child would be a perfect little angel and it was only that kind of child I could ever imagine having. It's a lot different now, of course. Just that knowing that if I ever have a child, or when I do, that child would be perfect in my eyes no matter what a mess they might turn into. With my genes, I can only imagine. Hopefully, they won't be too much like me.
Is it rare to think like that? That yes I want a biological child but hoping they won't become too much like me? I'm just so aware of my flaws, those that can be inherited or taught. My parents are sad that I got so much shit from them, and in return, I'd be sad if my child would get a lot of shit from me. Everything from bad teeth to mental illness, the list is actually quite endless.
Would it be cruel of me to sort of ignore that though? If I'd let my selfish reasons for having a child come first and then just deal with the rest if that becomes an issue? Would I be an embarrassing parent, by the way? My parents rarely were, although they had their moments too. For some reason, it's like I want to get pregnant for the same reason as my mother had, and it tears me apart, cause I literally hated her for having that reason.
I don't want my child to hate me, for any reason. Although, maybe I could just be more tactful about it than my mother was. I don't know much about my father, or what his reasons were. Despite him living in the same house as my mother, I don't really know him that well. I don't really mind not knowing him, it's just awkward, but I don't know why. (Could be my seriously fucked nightly dreams that's been haunting me since I was about 12, but they can't ruin things so much, can they?)
So mostly I compare myself to my mother, in more aspects than just this. And also because, despite being male like my father (sort of, but you get it) if I'll have a child it would be closer to my mother's experiences and thoughts and feelings about it, if you know what I mean. Because my father obviously didn't carry or conceive me.
I learn to do things on my own, and somehow, even if I had wanted it, I just know I won't get my parents' support on this. They might sigh and help with some of the practical once they realise that they can't talk me out of it, or if it's already "too late" so to say. But they wouldn't emotionally support me or be there to hold my hand. They would likely see it as me getting into yet another mess that they just have to help me through cause who else would?
Yeah, who else would help me through it if not them? I have so much to think about, how can I possibly do it on my own? I mean I can't even discuss with my endocrinologist about stopping testo, or go to a check up at the gyn to see if I even can get pregnant without having my mother drive me there. A whole world of complications just arose before me... sigh. I knew it wasn't gonna be easy, but damn.
The gender in clothes
Maybe this summer I'll wear a dress? That thought later came to me as I woke up this morning, as I do not want to believe in gendered clothes. I would still keep my beard and not do anything else differently, but wear a dress. Something black and goth, of course, preferably full length to hide my hairy legs and some nice shoes to go with that.
I never before thought it would scare me but it does. All the hatred I could get for simply wearing a dress. It's not like way before when I wore dresses all the time. It literally went years before I started wearing pants again. So consumed by my role, to keep up appearance so that people wouldn't find out the truth that I'm actually a guy. Hiding behind heavy make-up and fancy skirts, dresses and corsets.
I sometimes miss it, but I'm afraid to admit that. That there's still a transvestite hiding inside me, I try to let that person go. Because I have nowhere to take them, no place to release that pressure and be that part of me. Like, if only there was a gay club or something nearby. I could go all out drag and just be Kazanndra or Lydia for just one night and then stuff that away in a drawer again for the next time.
But I don't know. Just thinking about wearing a dress has got nothing to do with going drag, not really. It's about not being afraid of who I am, a guy who just happens to not give a shit about hetero normativity. And it's got nothing to do with that I'm transsexual either. I've never gotten hate for doing "feminine" things as a transguy. Maybe it's the awesome people that I surround myself with.
Still, it's different here on this island where no one knows about my background. I don't want them getting ideas. That, like, if I was to show up at school wearing a simple, black dress and half fancy shoes they might think that I'm trans the other way around. I've always hated it when people assume that. It's like, no, I'm just wearing a stupid dress, it doesn't mean anything.
It's so wrong though, cause in a way I've almost reverted back to the closet but for the exact opposite reason, if that makes any sense. Cause long before, back in 2005 when I just discovered that what the heck, I'm a guy, I bound my chest and packed in privacy. Now I'm wearing dresses and make-up in privacy.
I'm still a guy, don't get me wrong, just not that macho alpha male that I'm "supposed" to be. And I don't want to be that kind of guy either. I love being androgynous the right way, I just hate this fucked up society and it's "demands" on me as a transguy, or as a guy in general.
Cause even though my openness, most of society doesn't know that I'm trans. And I'd like to keep it that way. My thoughts are running wild right now, and in my mind, I can't stick to the subject. I start rambling about wanting kids again, and about wanting to starve again. So I'll just end it here as I'm drifting off topic and forget what I was thinking about it.
I never before thought it would scare me but it does. All the hatred I could get for simply wearing a dress. It's not like way before when I wore dresses all the time. It literally went years before I started wearing pants again. So consumed by my role, to keep up appearance so that people wouldn't find out the truth that I'm actually a guy. Hiding behind heavy make-up and fancy skirts, dresses and corsets.
I sometimes miss it, but I'm afraid to admit that. That there's still a transvestite hiding inside me, I try to let that person go. Because I have nowhere to take them, no place to release that pressure and be that part of me. Like, if only there was a gay club or something nearby. I could go all out drag and just be Kazanndra or Lydia for just one night and then stuff that away in a drawer again for the next time.
But I don't know. Just thinking about wearing a dress has got nothing to do with going drag, not really. It's about not being afraid of who I am, a guy who just happens to not give a shit about hetero normativity. And it's got nothing to do with that I'm transsexual either. I've never gotten hate for doing "feminine" things as a transguy. Maybe it's the awesome people that I surround myself with.
Still, it's different here on this island where no one knows about my background. I don't want them getting ideas. That, like, if I was to show up at school wearing a simple, black dress and half fancy shoes they might think that I'm trans the other way around. I've always hated it when people assume that. It's like, no, I'm just wearing a stupid dress, it doesn't mean anything.
It's so wrong though, cause in a way I've almost reverted back to the closet but for the exact opposite reason, if that makes any sense. Cause long before, back in 2005 when I just discovered that what the heck, I'm a guy, I bound my chest and packed in privacy. Now I'm wearing dresses and make-up in privacy.
I'm still a guy, don't get me wrong, just not that macho alpha male that I'm "supposed" to be. And I don't want to be that kind of guy either. I love being androgynous the right way, I just hate this fucked up society and it's "demands" on me as a transguy, or as a guy in general.
Cause even though my openness, most of society doesn't know that I'm trans. And I'd like to keep it that way. My thoughts are running wild right now, and in my mind, I can't stick to the subject. I start rambling about wanting kids again, and about wanting to starve again. So I'll just end it here as I'm drifting off topic and forget what I was thinking about it.
Wednesday, 25 March 2015
Not able to let go
I've finally decided that I won't do a hysterectomy, and probably not any other form of bottom surgery either. Sure, I still want it, but I just want to have a child first. At least give it a try, I don't know how well my organs work after 3-ish years on testosterone (1 plus almost 2 years) or if they ever worked as intended.
I won't jump onto that immediately though, I still have a lot of practical planning and such to do. Becoming a parent isn't a decision that should be made impulsively. But I know that I want it one day and I'm not gonna rob myself of my ability to have children.
Also, the longer I am on testosterone and the older I get, it will be harder to become pregnant. I also have that on my mind. Although I'm still only 25 years old (for about another month before I turn 26) I am scared of becoming too old for it. Also scared of dying before I ever get that far.
So, in spite of everything, in this moment, I have sort of already decided to have a child sometime in the future. It could be within a year or several years from now. But it's gonna happen. I don't care how unfit I am, I'll make it work somehow. It's really not about passing on my genes, or how to say it, it's just that I'm absolutely certain I won't meet the requirements for adoption. Like ever. I'm trans, not straight, not in a stable relationship with anyone, I'm mentally ill and can't take care of myself. How could I ever be given that option? It's not gonna happen.
So, I know the only way I could ever become a parent is to just bake one in the oven myself. And that I will, eventually, one day. I don't know if it's so much about getting ready for it, I already know that I am. I have thought about it and gotten ready for it for about 2 years, after all. No, it's more about getting ready practically and somehow finding a not so dangerous way of ending up pregnant.
I do plan to raise the kid myself, not gonna look for a decent partner to help me or whatever. I want the kid entirely my own and I just think randomly hooking up with a second father or a mother (that would then adopt) would just complicate things. Although, how can I raise a kid entirely on my own when I can't even take care of myself? Well, that is the biggest question, now isn't it?
I haven't figured out an answer for it, only new questions that I can't answer either. It would be the project of my life, basically. But as much as I know right now is simply this: don't get a hysterectomy, don't poke around there as I need things down there to be perfectly intact. And hope with all my fingers crossed that I am not infertile already. Could possibly test that as well though, by going to gynaecologist, I mean.
Those are the things I can do as of now, I won't just blindly jump into it. I'll try to plan around it as much as I can, but try to somewhat keep my plans secret from my parents. They don't want me reproducing and I know that they don't even like kids. So yeah... they don't want to become grand parents but it's my choice and fuck what they want.
Fuck what anyone else wants, by the way. I'm not doing it traditionally because I've given up on ever getting a decent partner in my life, and somehow, I don't think it would work with K if we ever end up together. If we do, things would probably get more complicated. I don't know, they might get easier too. If he even wants kids, I don't know that either.
I'm trying to leave him out of the picture, making it entirely my decision and that's the way it should be. I don't really care about anything else as of now, I believe things will sort themselves out.
Is it possible that I have some kind of motherly feelings going on only because of how my body is? I mean, it's not exactly common for young men who are tragically single to want a baby. For whatever reasons, I think it's possible that it changes things that I'm not shaped like most of those young men. If it's got something to do with my brain or my reproductive organs, or my upbringing or whatever, I can't really pinpoint it. But I think it's a possibility that my strong wishes for wanting a child one day is related to that my body was originally female and still partially is.
I don't know how much science is behind it, but I've heard about that the brains of transsexuals are possibly of their correct gender, that a ftm would have a male brain and vice versa. But if that is correct, I've always believed that my brain is either entirely female or not gendered at all. I don't think I have a male brain despite being male.
But it could be all bullshit, what do I know. Maybe I don't believe that brains have genders at all. But the mind do, and possibly the soul too. I would never see myself as a mother though, even when I'm carrying my child under my heart, it's a gendered word and I would only accept the words father, dad or parent.
I know of a person, I won't tell his name or anything, but he's also ftm and has given birth to a child post his transition. I know that he managed to get the papers stating him as the father to his child, although there was some hassle around it.
I wouldn't be the only transman to give birth to a child, but certainly one of the first Swedish ones. I hope I won't get too famous for it, I'd still prefer being stealth as much as I possibly could during a pregnancy. Say I have a beer belly or something, haha. Sad that the world just can't let people be.
And in a way I'm suddenly glad that it's 2015 and the times are not as oppressed as they were before. Back to when for example transsexuals were forced to get sterilised to be able to change their gender marker. It's still uncommon, for transmen to have children, but I think I'd get accepted in a way maybe I wouldn't have back 10, 15 or 20 years ago.
Though I do not strive for that sort of fame, I don't want to end up in the newspaper for simply having a child with all my disabilities and what not. People have children literally all the time, I don't want to be made special for it. Perhaps I can avoid it somehow, I don't know. Perhaps I'd be so damn fucking thrilled over having a child that I wouldn't even be bothered by that. How can I know?
My thoughts and feelings are running wild but I try to contain myself, a little. I never really contain myself on this blog, and maybe I just need a place to vent? I haven't been able to really let go of that wanting, for a child, since it first started echoing in my head and heart sometime during the winter/spring of 2013, exactly 2 years ago.
I was still seeing my DBT therapist when I ranted to her about my sudden wish to become a parent. It must have been awkward, but I sort of trusted my therapist back then. Mostly, that wish has lied dormant since then and the thoughts only haunt me sometimes.
I'd stop smoking for a child. I think I actually would, to not harm the little life in me. And of course stop drinking too, but I think that would be easier, it's just a part time addiction and not really important to me. And try to cope with my eating disorder (no starving or purging), aaand of course I'd be scared of the weight gain and try my best to not gain more weight than necessary. To not get like 20 kg extra weight, is what I mean.
Over all, I'd try to be good to myself during a pregnancy. As good as I possibly can and still be able to at least somewhat control my anxiety. A good thing about living on allowance, I could easily skip school whenever for something like that. Just another thought. My thoughts seem to be endless recently, just spinning in my head like whirl winds. But I'll try to stop them for now, again, but I don't know how.
It's just that my longing for children just gets more intense all the time and I know that I will get one eventually. Just one, by the way, I think that's about as much as I can handle, and let's just hope then that I don't get twins...
I wonder so much what it could be like, maybe the only happiness I can ever get in this life. Until social services takes them away from me... yeah, I do realise that is also a possibility. It would wreck my world, but even that thought doesn't keep me from wanting to try for a family.
Okay... long ass entry about me wanting a child in the mess that is my life not long after another baby ranting entry that I made just a couple of days ago or so. But it's what's on my mind and I just really wanted to vent and rant about it.
Also I wanted to inform you that I do plan to plan around it as much as I can and that I'll try to go about it in a decent way somehow. I don't know how or when, but not right now. Definitely not right now! -I try to tell the impatient me that just wants and wants and wants. For crying out loud, it really really shouldn't be impulsive, no matter how fucking much I want it.
I won't jump onto that immediately though, I still have a lot of practical planning and such to do. Becoming a parent isn't a decision that should be made impulsively. But I know that I want it one day and I'm not gonna rob myself of my ability to have children.
Also, the longer I am on testosterone and the older I get, it will be harder to become pregnant. I also have that on my mind. Although I'm still only 25 years old (for about another month before I turn 26) I am scared of becoming too old for it. Also scared of dying before I ever get that far.
So, in spite of everything, in this moment, I have sort of already decided to have a child sometime in the future. It could be within a year or several years from now. But it's gonna happen. I don't care how unfit I am, I'll make it work somehow. It's really not about passing on my genes, or how to say it, it's just that I'm absolutely certain I won't meet the requirements for adoption. Like ever. I'm trans, not straight, not in a stable relationship with anyone, I'm mentally ill and can't take care of myself. How could I ever be given that option? It's not gonna happen.
So, I know the only way I could ever become a parent is to just bake one in the oven myself. And that I will, eventually, one day. I don't know if it's so much about getting ready for it, I already know that I am. I have thought about it and gotten ready for it for about 2 years, after all. No, it's more about getting ready practically and somehow finding a not so dangerous way of ending up pregnant.
I do plan to raise the kid myself, not gonna look for a decent partner to help me or whatever. I want the kid entirely my own and I just think randomly hooking up with a second father or a mother (that would then adopt) would just complicate things. Although, how can I raise a kid entirely on my own when I can't even take care of myself? Well, that is the biggest question, now isn't it?
I haven't figured out an answer for it, only new questions that I can't answer either. It would be the project of my life, basically. But as much as I know right now is simply this: don't get a hysterectomy, don't poke around there as I need things down there to be perfectly intact. And hope with all my fingers crossed that I am not infertile already. Could possibly test that as well though, by going to gynaecologist, I mean.
Those are the things I can do as of now, I won't just blindly jump into it. I'll try to plan around it as much as I can, but try to somewhat keep my plans secret from my parents. They don't want me reproducing and I know that they don't even like kids. So yeah... they don't want to become grand parents but it's my choice and fuck what they want.
Fuck what anyone else wants, by the way. I'm not doing it traditionally because I've given up on ever getting a decent partner in my life, and somehow, I don't think it would work with K if we ever end up together. If we do, things would probably get more complicated. I don't know, they might get easier too. If he even wants kids, I don't know that either.
I'm trying to leave him out of the picture, making it entirely my decision and that's the way it should be. I don't really care about anything else as of now, I believe things will sort themselves out.
Is it possible that I have some kind of motherly feelings going on only because of how my body is? I mean, it's not exactly common for young men who are tragically single to want a baby. For whatever reasons, I think it's possible that it changes things that I'm not shaped like most of those young men. If it's got something to do with my brain or my reproductive organs, or my upbringing or whatever, I can't really pinpoint it. But I think it's a possibility that my strong wishes for wanting a child one day is related to that my body was originally female and still partially is.
I don't know how much science is behind it, but I've heard about that the brains of transsexuals are possibly of their correct gender, that a ftm would have a male brain and vice versa. But if that is correct, I've always believed that my brain is either entirely female or not gendered at all. I don't think I have a male brain despite being male.
But it could be all bullshit, what do I know. Maybe I don't believe that brains have genders at all. But the mind do, and possibly the soul too. I would never see myself as a mother though, even when I'm carrying my child under my heart, it's a gendered word and I would only accept the words father, dad or parent.
I know of a person, I won't tell his name or anything, but he's also ftm and has given birth to a child post his transition. I know that he managed to get the papers stating him as the father to his child, although there was some hassle around it.
I wouldn't be the only transman to give birth to a child, but certainly one of the first Swedish ones. I hope I won't get too famous for it, I'd still prefer being stealth as much as I possibly could during a pregnancy. Say I have a beer belly or something, haha. Sad that the world just can't let people be.
And in a way I'm suddenly glad that it's 2015 and the times are not as oppressed as they were before. Back to when for example transsexuals were forced to get sterilised to be able to change their gender marker. It's still uncommon, for transmen to have children, but I think I'd get accepted in a way maybe I wouldn't have back 10, 15 or 20 years ago.
Though I do not strive for that sort of fame, I don't want to end up in the newspaper for simply having a child with all my disabilities and what not. People have children literally all the time, I don't want to be made special for it. Perhaps I can avoid it somehow, I don't know. Perhaps I'd be so damn fucking thrilled over having a child that I wouldn't even be bothered by that. How can I know?
My thoughts and feelings are running wild but I try to contain myself, a little. I never really contain myself on this blog, and maybe I just need a place to vent? I haven't been able to really let go of that wanting, for a child, since it first started echoing in my head and heart sometime during the winter/spring of 2013, exactly 2 years ago.
I was still seeing my DBT therapist when I ranted to her about my sudden wish to become a parent. It must have been awkward, but I sort of trusted my therapist back then. Mostly, that wish has lied dormant since then and the thoughts only haunt me sometimes.
I'd stop smoking for a child. I think I actually would, to not harm the little life in me. And of course stop drinking too, but I think that would be easier, it's just a part time addiction and not really important to me. And try to cope with my eating disorder (no starving or purging), aaand of course I'd be scared of the weight gain and try my best to not gain more weight than necessary. To not get like 20 kg extra weight, is what I mean.
Over all, I'd try to be good to myself during a pregnancy. As good as I possibly can and still be able to at least somewhat control my anxiety. A good thing about living on allowance, I could easily skip school whenever for something like that. Just another thought. My thoughts seem to be endless recently, just spinning in my head like whirl winds. But I'll try to stop them for now, again, but I don't know how.
It's just that my longing for children just gets more intense all the time and I know that I will get one eventually. Just one, by the way, I think that's about as much as I can handle, and let's just hope then that I don't get twins...
I wonder so much what it could be like, maybe the only happiness I can ever get in this life. Until social services takes them away from me... yeah, I do realise that is also a possibility. It would wreck my world, but even that thought doesn't keep me from wanting to try for a family.
Okay... long ass entry about me wanting a child in the mess that is my life not long after another baby ranting entry that I made just a couple of days ago or so. But it's what's on my mind and I just really wanted to vent and rant about it.
Also I wanted to inform you that I do plan to plan around it as much as I can and that I'll try to go about it in a decent way somehow. I don't know how or when, but not right now. Definitely not right now! -I try to tell the impatient me that just wants and wants and wants. For crying out loud, it really really shouldn't be impulsive, no matter how fucking much I want it.
Tuesday, 24 March 2015
Staying strong
I feel so damn broken though, and Zyprexa isn't working against sadness. Good to know. For the future, I mean. Cause then I won't waste pills for feelings they can't get at. I'm calm, but incredibly sad and can't think clearly. I worry about that K might have left me and no matter how much I should be thinking about it, I can't fully grasp it and I can't think about how the hell I should go on living if he has.
It's always the same thoughts, and they're always different. Plotting against me, forming walls that I can't go through. And I can't understand them. They're very vague, fragile like soap bubbles that break when I touch them. Already forgotten, already lost.
I lost. It feels like I lost my battle and I can only breathe in cigarette smoke. It's like... I was ready to give him my whole world, the last bits that were good about me, but I don't think he wants it, I don't think he ever did. I could still be wrong, but my heart doesn't believe it anymore.
And it's breaking for the last time, or it will when I let it. I can't let it break yet. I'm unfinished. I will die unfinished eventually, I think most of us do. But that's what it all comes down to, to him. And how I can't lose him. I can't lose myself for love ever again. I just can't handle it. What I feel for K is beyond what planet Earth can grasp and I love him so proudly, yet so few know.
If I ever get a headstone when I die, I might want something on it devoted to him. I don't know, just a sudden thought. If I had any money or valuable possessions I could give it all to him, but I don't. I have nothing valuable except from this apartment and this crappy computer. It wouldn't be valuable to him.
I just want that one last act, or something, completely devoted to him, so that he'll always know. That he was the one for me, that I loved him so completely and unconditionally. I'm only writing this in past tense for the future, for when I die, I still don't plan to. I don't want another overdose, a rope around my neck, to jump or anything else that I've thought about recently or not.
I've been planning my damn death since I was 12 years old, it's nothing new, just that it gets new angles and more precise the older I get. I've got my organ donation card and I'm registered on the website. I might or might not re-enter the Swedish Church if I want a Christian funeral. I do believe in God anyway, I always have, just so damn certain that he hates me for what I am and for what I've done.
I don't want to re-think about my death, but the thoughts suffocate me and I can't let them go this time. Usually I can, and maybe that's the only thing that changes. As the days pass and still no word from K, I forget to like and reblog his posts on tumblr and facebook, I forget to show that I still care so much it rips me apart inside every minute. I don't know how to show my stupid feelings without coming off as clingy and annoying.
I want to be able to leave him alone, to not bother him when he obviously doesn't want me to. Does he even? I cannot know for sure. And that scares me, cause what if he wants to reach out but for some reason can't? What if I'm one of very few people who still are out there, patiently waiting for him to come back? And what if I'd then leave him alone, and he'd be all alone, thinking that he lost me?
I can't wrap my head around it. It's too much. All these thoughts and questions buzzing in my head, like wildfire. My heart is beating for him and he's for sure my last remaining contact with reality, with sanity and any form of love. Except my mother, but it's not the same. I'd be so lost without him it scares me so much.
Cause I've never loved anyone the way I love him. Guess you already knew that, but damn, almost 2 years and he still takes my breath away. And he doesn't need to do anything or be in a certain way for it, he only has to be himself and I fall over and over and over again. How much can one person possibly fall for another? Does it ever end? Do I even want it to end?
But it has to. Nothing has ever stayed with me, nothing at all. I don't deserve love, and I know it to the core. And I'm just broken pieces scattered by the wind. I'm nothing but dust, nothing but a shadow lingering endlessly between life and death. I have no right to demand anything from him and I don't, I just dream of the closest thing to a paradise this shit hole could ever, possibly offer someone like me. I'm pining for love and I know that will eventually kill me.
I'm scared and my heart beats fast, but I'm frighteningly calm. As if I almost accept it already. That I won't ever get love like that. Maybe no one does. Maybe it belongs to the world of fiction and I need to get down to earth. But I can't be with anyone else, can't let another human being touch me. Literally. I've stopped hugging people since last time I hugged him.
Already then I felt it, that it was the last time I'll ever see him in person. I hope it's not true. There was something wrong with our last goodbye that day in August. He wouldn't look at me when he said goodbye, his eyes wandered somewhere into the distance or deep within himself. It scared me, it felt like I had done something wrong, but I hadn't, I couldn't have.
I cannot cherish that moment, I just cannot. It left ice in my veins, a hollow feeling that has continued to hollow me out ever since. I wonder what was on his mind in that moment, what haunted or taunted him. If it was me or something completely different. I want to understand it cause then I could accept it, whatever it was.
But if that was our last goodbye, I don't know what I would do. I'd cry and scream and bleed, I wouldn't accept it. I wouldn't accept him leaving me, but I would understand it. I was never his to begin with, he was never mine. Although I don't believe in ownership when it comes to love, I would definitely let him own me if that was what he wanted. Was. Am I already giving up?
My breathing is shallow, heavy at the same time and filled with endless amounts of nicotine. I can't stop smoking today. I never chain smoke unless it's bad and once again I got through a whole pack of cigarettes in less than 5 hours. That's 4 cigarettes per hour, which doesn't leave many minutes between them, as they take 8-10 minutes for me to smoke.
I feel emptied, hollowed out. My mind is dulled from these thoughts and feelings raping my mind. I miss him so, so, so much and I'm literally going crazy from it. This isn't me, I cannot breathe right. I catch myself holding my breath even when I'm not holding in cigarette smoke.
Forget to breathe out until I'm close to choking. I could pass out. Somehow I hope that I would cause then maybe finally something would show on my permanent stone face that fucking everything is wrong.
These thoughts
"I stray, searching for a reason
as I crumble, stumble but won't fall
hesitate in the middle of a breath
as I realise that I want nothing at all
Collecting ashes into a pile
I couldn't stop the thoughts this time
I lay my arms around my chest, hold tightly
a vague reminder of a forgotten crime
As your voice lingers in my head
you gave me reasons not worth to stay
I shudder at the thoughts
not wanting them to go away
Ice crispy in my soul, it's cold in there
but warm around me I find no way out
but warn me I'll tell you everything
once I know what it's about
Reaching further I try to scream
but it sunders inside me and I drop
my hopes on the pavement
and I don't know how to stop
These thought lacerating my mind
now only lingers but I know
that they create emotions within me
that I don't know how to show"
It's always the same thoughts, and they're always different. Plotting against me, forming walls that I can't go through. And I can't understand them. They're very vague, fragile like soap bubbles that break when I touch them. Already forgotten, already lost.
I lost. It feels like I lost my battle and I can only breathe in cigarette smoke. It's like... I was ready to give him my whole world, the last bits that were good about me, but I don't think he wants it, I don't think he ever did. I could still be wrong, but my heart doesn't believe it anymore.
And it's breaking for the last time, or it will when I let it. I can't let it break yet. I'm unfinished. I will die unfinished eventually, I think most of us do. But that's what it all comes down to, to him. And how I can't lose him. I can't lose myself for love ever again. I just can't handle it. What I feel for K is beyond what planet Earth can grasp and I love him so proudly, yet so few know.
If I ever get a headstone when I die, I might want something on it devoted to him. I don't know, just a sudden thought. If I had any money or valuable possessions I could give it all to him, but I don't. I have nothing valuable except from this apartment and this crappy computer. It wouldn't be valuable to him.
I just want that one last act, or something, completely devoted to him, so that he'll always know. That he was the one for me, that I loved him so completely and unconditionally. I'm only writing this in past tense for the future, for when I die, I still don't plan to. I don't want another overdose, a rope around my neck, to jump or anything else that I've thought about recently or not.
I've been planning my damn death since I was 12 years old, it's nothing new, just that it gets new angles and more precise the older I get. I've got my organ donation card and I'm registered on the website. I might or might not re-enter the Swedish Church if I want a Christian funeral. I do believe in God anyway, I always have, just so damn certain that he hates me for what I am and for what I've done.
I don't want to re-think about my death, but the thoughts suffocate me and I can't let them go this time. Usually I can, and maybe that's the only thing that changes. As the days pass and still no word from K, I forget to like and reblog his posts on tumblr and facebook, I forget to show that I still care so much it rips me apart inside every minute. I don't know how to show my stupid feelings without coming off as clingy and annoying.
I want to be able to leave him alone, to not bother him when he obviously doesn't want me to. Does he even? I cannot know for sure. And that scares me, cause what if he wants to reach out but for some reason can't? What if I'm one of very few people who still are out there, patiently waiting for him to come back? And what if I'd then leave him alone, and he'd be all alone, thinking that he lost me?
I can't wrap my head around it. It's too much. All these thoughts and questions buzzing in my head, like wildfire. My heart is beating for him and he's for sure my last remaining contact with reality, with sanity and any form of love. Except my mother, but it's not the same. I'd be so lost without him it scares me so much.
Cause I've never loved anyone the way I love him. Guess you already knew that, but damn, almost 2 years and he still takes my breath away. And he doesn't need to do anything or be in a certain way for it, he only has to be himself and I fall over and over and over again. How much can one person possibly fall for another? Does it ever end? Do I even want it to end?
But it has to. Nothing has ever stayed with me, nothing at all. I don't deserve love, and I know it to the core. And I'm just broken pieces scattered by the wind. I'm nothing but dust, nothing but a shadow lingering endlessly between life and death. I have no right to demand anything from him and I don't, I just dream of the closest thing to a paradise this shit hole could ever, possibly offer someone like me. I'm pining for love and I know that will eventually kill me.
I'm scared and my heart beats fast, but I'm frighteningly calm. As if I almost accept it already. That I won't ever get love like that. Maybe no one does. Maybe it belongs to the world of fiction and I need to get down to earth. But I can't be with anyone else, can't let another human being touch me. Literally. I've stopped hugging people since last time I hugged him.
Already then I felt it, that it was the last time I'll ever see him in person. I hope it's not true. There was something wrong with our last goodbye that day in August. He wouldn't look at me when he said goodbye, his eyes wandered somewhere into the distance or deep within himself. It scared me, it felt like I had done something wrong, but I hadn't, I couldn't have.
I cannot cherish that moment, I just cannot. It left ice in my veins, a hollow feeling that has continued to hollow me out ever since. I wonder what was on his mind in that moment, what haunted or taunted him. If it was me or something completely different. I want to understand it cause then I could accept it, whatever it was.
But if that was our last goodbye, I don't know what I would do. I'd cry and scream and bleed, I wouldn't accept it. I wouldn't accept him leaving me, but I would understand it. I was never his to begin with, he was never mine. Although I don't believe in ownership when it comes to love, I would definitely let him own me if that was what he wanted. Was. Am I already giving up?
My breathing is shallow, heavy at the same time and filled with endless amounts of nicotine. I can't stop smoking today. I never chain smoke unless it's bad and once again I got through a whole pack of cigarettes in less than 5 hours. That's 4 cigarettes per hour, which doesn't leave many minutes between them, as they take 8-10 minutes for me to smoke.
I feel emptied, hollowed out. My mind is dulled from these thoughts and feelings raping my mind. I miss him so, so, so much and I'm literally going crazy from it. This isn't me, I cannot breathe right. I catch myself holding my breath even when I'm not holding in cigarette smoke.
Forget to breathe out until I'm close to choking. I could pass out. Somehow I hope that I would cause then maybe finally something would show on my permanent stone face that fucking everything is wrong.
These thoughts
"I stray, searching for a reason
as I crumble, stumble but won't fall
hesitate in the middle of a breath
as I realise that I want nothing at all
Collecting ashes into a pile
I couldn't stop the thoughts this time
I lay my arms around my chest, hold tightly
a vague reminder of a forgotten crime
As your voice lingers in my head
you gave me reasons not worth to stay
I shudder at the thoughts
not wanting them to go away
Ice crispy in my soul, it's cold in there
but warm around me I find no way out
but warn me I'll tell you everything
once I know what it's about
Reaching further I try to scream
but it sunders inside me and I drop
my hopes on the pavement
and I don't know how to stop
These thought lacerating my mind
now only lingers but I know
that they create emotions within me
that I don't know how to show"
A secret told
Yeah... I write poems about Anna and I realise how complicated our situation really is. She's not evil, she's not good, she's human and so am I. Maybe she's more human than I am. I wouldn't doubt it.
I'm listening to "Forever" by The Birthday Massacre on repeat and she sings "sometimes when I close my eyes I hear a voice" and although it's not entirely fitting, it still makes me think about Anna.
Is it hopeless? I don't know. I don't think I know the true meaning of that word. I'm hopeless, maybe that's better, or at least closer to the truth. Hopelessly devoted to her and everything she's been during these 17 years by my side, occupying my head to the brim.
You don't just start talking about a secret you've kept for almost 10 years. What's wrong with me? No seriously, what is wrong with me? My curiosity just tipped the table and I can't deal anymore. With anything.
I'm crumbling and losing touch with reality and life. I didn't tell my contact person that, that I'm tired of living and slowly starting to get suicidal again. I don't want her or anyone else forcing me back to the ward when that's the last place I want to be forced into.
Though I've never been, forced to a psychiatric ward. Once, maybe, I don't know. That would be after my most serious suicide attempt, the overdose and the 11th one. I don't know if I was forced or not that time. I only remember it vaguely. But I sigh as I suddenly get a feeling that I will try to kill myself at least 2 more times before I'll actually die. Siiiiiigh, I really don't want to deal with more of that shit.
17 times, wouldn't that just be...? Like, come on, seriously?! I've got better things to do than trying to die without succeeding to. I've been chain smoking since I got home and I cannot stop. I've been trying to kill myself since I was 16 and I can't stop with that either. I remember, when I was 16 or 17 that I thought 4 suicide attempts was good. I had heard about it in a movie or something, and I thought it had a good ring to it.
Tell me, I know I'm nuts for thinking such things, but I thought it, alright? And now, with 15 failed attempts behind me and I can only remember half of them, barely, I don't know if there is a magic number.
All I know is that I don't want even more useless attempts in my history, enough is enough. But I can't help this nagging feeling, and I'm sooo very divided right now you won't believe it! On one hand I'm scared of dying before turning 28 and desperately want to pack in my entire life within those two years from now; while on the other hand I don't think I'll last for another month, or maybe another week.
No, I don't plan to kill myself, it's just thoughts. And I do want to live, I just don't know if I can. And at the same time I don't want to live because this stinking life has been forced upon me and the psychiatry sucks. It truly does, and now I'm trapped. If they'll try anything, I mean it fucking anything (force me back to the ward, force antipsychotic drugs into me, whatever) I'll cut the damn strings and fly.
No, again, not literally. Just cutting the strings with the psychiatry. There will be no actual flying. Damn, I'm tired of trying to explain myself. I don't even know whom I'm explaining myself to. There's a chaos in my head and I'm quite lost within it right now. I can't even explain this to myself.
Life, death, become meaningless words. Just different states of existence and how can I ever know which one is better than the other? I'm tired to the bone and I can't rest. I haven't been able to rest for over 10 years. I have my chronic tension headache to thank for that.
Shifting to other songs by The Birthday Massacre as I try to keep myself at least somewhat sane. For a nicotine overdose and more coffee. I should wrap myself up in my robe and start editing again, but I can't find any peace within myself. Can't focus, only breathing exhausts me. And my stomach hurts for no reason, competing with the pain in my head. At least it feels that way. Go away, go away, I tell it but it hardly helps.
I just can't stop thinking about my own death. No matter how soon or far into the future it will occur. I shudder before it. I freeze in the moment as I'm running out of words to write. Tell me again, why I should hang on to this life, cause I've forgotten why, once again.
I'm alive and I breathe but my breath is shallow, my heart is beating but it's broken, my soul still tagging along but it's homesick and scarred. And I want to leave, yet I cling to life desperately. I crumble beneath my mortal fear, it tears me apart and I can't function anymore.
I cut my ties with almost everyone again. I don't function around other people and I don't deserve them. I'll only hurt them if I haven't already. Stay, but I don't know how.
I'm listening to "Forever" by The Birthday Massacre on repeat and she sings "sometimes when I close my eyes I hear a voice" and although it's not entirely fitting, it still makes me think about Anna.
Is it hopeless? I don't know. I don't think I know the true meaning of that word. I'm hopeless, maybe that's better, or at least closer to the truth. Hopelessly devoted to her and everything she's been during these 17 years by my side, occupying my head to the brim.
You don't just start talking about a secret you've kept for almost 10 years. What's wrong with me? No seriously, what is wrong with me? My curiosity just tipped the table and I can't deal anymore. With anything.
I'm crumbling and losing touch with reality and life. I didn't tell my contact person that, that I'm tired of living and slowly starting to get suicidal again. I don't want her or anyone else forcing me back to the ward when that's the last place I want to be forced into.
Though I've never been, forced to a psychiatric ward. Once, maybe, I don't know. That would be after my most serious suicide attempt, the overdose and the 11th one. I don't know if I was forced or not that time. I only remember it vaguely. But I sigh as I suddenly get a feeling that I will try to kill myself at least 2 more times before I'll actually die. Siiiiiigh, I really don't want to deal with more of that shit.
17 times, wouldn't that just be...? Like, come on, seriously?! I've got better things to do than trying to die without succeeding to. I've been chain smoking since I got home and I cannot stop. I've been trying to kill myself since I was 16 and I can't stop with that either. I remember, when I was 16 or 17 that I thought 4 suicide attempts was good. I had heard about it in a movie or something, and I thought it had a good ring to it.
Tell me, I know I'm nuts for thinking such things, but I thought it, alright? And now, with 15 failed attempts behind me and I can only remember half of them, barely, I don't know if there is a magic number.
All I know is that I don't want even more useless attempts in my history, enough is enough. But I can't help this nagging feeling, and I'm sooo very divided right now you won't believe it! On one hand I'm scared of dying before turning 28 and desperately want to pack in my entire life within those two years from now; while on the other hand I don't think I'll last for another month, or maybe another week.
No, I don't plan to kill myself, it's just thoughts. And I do want to live, I just don't know if I can. And at the same time I don't want to live because this stinking life has been forced upon me and the psychiatry sucks. It truly does, and now I'm trapped. If they'll try anything, I mean it fucking anything (force me back to the ward, force antipsychotic drugs into me, whatever) I'll cut the damn strings and fly.
No, again, not literally. Just cutting the strings with the psychiatry. There will be no actual flying. Damn, I'm tired of trying to explain myself. I don't even know whom I'm explaining myself to. There's a chaos in my head and I'm quite lost within it right now. I can't even explain this to myself.
Life, death, become meaningless words. Just different states of existence and how can I ever know which one is better than the other? I'm tired to the bone and I can't rest. I haven't been able to rest for over 10 years. I have my chronic tension headache to thank for that.
Shifting to other songs by The Birthday Massacre as I try to keep myself at least somewhat sane. For a nicotine overdose and more coffee. I should wrap myself up in my robe and start editing again, but I can't find any peace within myself. Can't focus, only breathing exhausts me. And my stomach hurts for no reason, competing with the pain in my head. At least it feels that way. Go away, go away, I tell it but it hardly helps.
I just can't stop thinking about my own death. No matter how soon or far into the future it will occur. I shudder before it. I freeze in the moment as I'm running out of words to write. Tell me again, why I should hang on to this life, cause I've forgotten why, once again.
I'm alive and I breathe but my breath is shallow, my heart is beating but it's broken, my soul still tagging along but it's homesick and scarred. And I want to leave, yet I cling to life desperately. I crumble beneath my mortal fear, it tears me apart and I can't function anymore.
I cut my ties with almost everyone again. I don't function around other people and I don't deserve them. I'll only hurt them if I haven't already. Stay, but I don't know how.
Monday, 23 March 2015
Chasing fears
I'm turning 27 in a little more than a year and I fear it like nothing else. I know that I won't turn 28 and 27 will be my last birthday. I will probably celebrate it with tears. That's how much I believe in that stupid prophecy, that's how strong my stupid beliefs are. They might not be true, but I believe them blindly. Although I want to doubt, cause I want to turn 28 and 29 and so on. But I'm just so damn certain that I won't.
And as that particular birthday gets closer, I just want to make things right again. Moving back to the city I can call my home would be a good thing. Meet up with my friends again and that time I'll stay. Have a big party or something. Just be alive for as long as I possibly can. Shit, it feels like I'm really dying, like I'm dying from a terminal disease or something. Just counting the days, and there are less than 753 days left.
My pathetic life is running away from me like sand between my fingers. I try to catch it but I can't. I can't believe that my 27th birthday is coming in so close now, it felt so far into the future just a heartbeat ago. But oh, my perfect age really does deceive me. And my mortal fear will be my cause of death. It's all so ironical I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
So I just need to hurry the fuck up with living my life. Desperately try to finish my book and hopefully I can get it published within this year or at least the beginning of the next. Move back to Uppsala again and regret ever moving to Gotland and spending 3 or 4 shitty and useless years on this island. Hopefully get some cash for my book so that I can get another tattoo or several. Get more piercings. Get thin, get fit.
I have so much to do how the hell am I possibly gonna pack that into less than two years?! Should I get a child when I'm at it too? I've wanted that for some time now, but always thought I'd be unfit for a parent, but oh boy I'd be very unfit if I'm dead. Can't just bring a child to the world without rhyme or reason to then leave it parentless.
Like it would have one dead biological father and another completely unknown father somewhere in the country that I just happened to hook up with for that reason alone. Trying to make myself stop thinking about children but I haven't really been able to for the last two or so years. Hesitating to do SRS solely because of that reason, but I'd be unfit, unfit, unfit.
I'm a mess and can't even take care of myself, I have fucked up morals that I'd be passing on and then we shouldn't even begin to talk about the genes I'd pass on. It would be cruel, and that poor child would probably have a worse upbringing than the one I had. That's not right and I know my reasons for wanting a baby are purely selfish and I hated my parents for their selfish reasons to have me, their first child.
But I can't get it out of my fucked up head, I just want a frigging baby. Unconditional love the only way that it can be right. To maybe finally be able to heal my broken heart. No never be lonely, to always love that child no matter what becomes of them. To just hold that new born child, knowing that I'd do anything I possibly can and more to give them a decent life; I still don't think I could ever give them more than just that though, a decent life.
I don't even know how it could possibly work out practically, if I do decide to go for it, and if I even can have children. Like how about LSS, would they possibly help me me with the practical and can I even live in LSS with a baby? What about my financial situation? I'm living on allowance, could it possibly be increased/raised if I'm suddenly paying everything for two? And my parents would hate me for giving them even more responsibilities.
Alas, it is a thought I have not been able to let go of, and as you can probably tell, I've thought about it quite a lot. And why should I deprive myself of my right to have children, only because I'm not as capable as most people are? It is my right, my choice and no one can take it away from me. If I decide to go for it, maybe in a year or so, and hopefully being slightly more independent and living in Uppsala, away from my parents.
Simply, I don't want them interfering with it. I don't want them to possibly, basically taking my child away from me and raise them themselves because I'm certain they don't think I'd be fit for a parent either. I am almost certain that they would try to take them away from me. And I wouldn't be able to handle that. Would anyone?
I have classmate whom I am almost considering a friend by now. She has 3 children whom was taken away from her and placed in foster care. I don't want that happening to me but I see the possibility of that happening. Because of how bad I am at taking care of myself, my complete lack of knowledge about children and child care, money problems, anything really. Society simply doesn't want people like me reproducing.
I stray from the topic all the time and this becomes quite a wall of text, but I don't care, I just need to ventilate all this. It all comes down to my fear of dying before 28 and if I want a frigging child before I die, I should hurry up with that cause those take 9 months to make. And the thing is, even if I don't die, I don't think having a child would be something that I'd regret. It would definitely make my life harder, but I believe, in spite of everything, that it would give me a pretty damn good reason to live.
I haven't yet decided, I should plan more first. Not just get there without all that knowledge that I currently lack. But other things keep getting in the way, like mental problems, school and what not. And those things will keep getting in the way, at least my mental problems.
I just really have to ask myself if I truly think I could care for a child the way things are like right now and always been like. That's what it all comes down to, cause I won't get cured or drastically better, and a child can't change who I am as a person.
Of all the things I want to do before I die, this, about becoming a parent, surely stings the hardest. It's one of the hardest decisions I've ever tried to make and it won't get any easier as time passes and I get older. If I get older, that is. There are so many things to think about and consider and reconsider. I'm not a perfect, straight, cis-male with a healthy mind and background. It's so much more complicated. I know what I want, I just don't know if I can have it.
And as that particular birthday gets closer, I just want to make things right again. Moving back to the city I can call my home would be a good thing. Meet up with my friends again and that time I'll stay. Have a big party or something. Just be alive for as long as I possibly can. Shit, it feels like I'm really dying, like I'm dying from a terminal disease or something. Just counting the days, and there are less than 753 days left.
My pathetic life is running away from me like sand between my fingers. I try to catch it but I can't. I can't believe that my 27th birthday is coming in so close now, it felt so far into the future just a heartbeat ago. But oh, my perfect age really does deceive me. And my mortal fear will be my cause of death. It's all so ironical I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
So I just need to hurry the fuck up with living my life. Desperately try to finish my book and hopefully I can get it published within this year or at least the beginning of the next. Move back to Uppsala again and regret ever moving to Gotland and spending 3 or 4 shitty and useless years on this island. Hopefully get some cash for my book so that I can get another tattoo or several. Get more piercings. Get thin, get fit.
I have so much to do how the hell am I possibly gonna pack that into less than two years?! Should I get a child when I'm at it too? I've wanted that for some time now, but always thought I'd be unfit for a parent, but oh boy I'd be very unfit if I'm dead. Can't just bring a child to the world without rhyme or reason to then leave it parentless.
Like it would have one dead biological father and another completely unknown father somewhere in the country that I just happened to hook up with for that reason alone. Trying to make myself stop thinking about children but I haven't really been able to for the last two or so years. Hesitating to do SRS solely because of that reason, but I'd be unfit, unfit, unfit.
I'm a mess and can't even take care of myself, I have fucked up morals that I'd be passing on and then we shouldn't even begin to talk about the genes I'd pass on. It would be cruel, and that poor child would probably have a worse upbringing than the one I had. That's not right and I know my reasons for wanting a baby are purely selfish and I hated my parents for their selfish reasons to have me, their first child.
But I can't get it out of my fucked up head, I just want a frigging baby. Unconditional love the only way that it can be right. To maybe finally be able to heal my broken heart. No never be lonely, to always love that child no matter what becomes of them. To just hold that new born child, knowing that I'd do anything I possibly can and more to give them a decent life; I still don't think I could ever give them more than just that though, a decent life.
I don't even know how it could possibly work out practically, if I do decide to go for it, and if I even can have children. Like how about LSS, would they possibly help me me with the practical and can I even live in LSS with a baby? What about my financial situation? I'm living on allowance, could it possibly be increased/raised if I'm suddenly paying everything for two? And my parents would hate me for giving them even more responsibilities.
Alas, it is a thought I have not been able to let go of, and as you can probably tell, I've thought about it quite a lot. And why should I deprive myself of my right to have children, only because I'm not as capable as most people are? It is my right, my choice and no one can take it away from me. If I decide to go for it, maybe in a year or so, and hopefully being slightly more independent and living in Uppsala, away from my parents.
Simply, I don't want them interfering with it. I don't want them to possibly, basically taking my child away from me and raise them themselves because I'm certain they don't think I'd be fit for a parent either. I am almost certain that they would try to take them away from me. And I wouldn't be able to handle that. Would anyone?
I have classmate whom I am almost considering a friend by now. She has 3 children whom was taken away from her and placed in foster care. I don't want that happening to me but I see the possibility of that happening. Because of how bad I am at taking care of myself, my complete lack of knowledge about children and child care, money problems, anything really. Society simply doesn't want people like me reproducing.
I stray from the topic all the time and this becomes quite a wall of text, but I don't care, I just need to ventilate all this. It all comes down to my fear of dying before 28 and if I want a frigging child before I die, I should hurry up with that cause those take 9 months to make. And the thing is, even if I don't die, I don't think having a child would be something that I'd regret. It would definitely make my life harder, but I believe, in spite of everything, that it would give me a pretty damn good reason to live.
I haven't yet decided, I should plan more first. Not just get there without all that knowledge that I currently lack. But other things keep getting in the way, like mental problems, school and what not. And those things will keep getting in the way, at least my mental problems.
I just really have to ask myself if I truly think I could care for a child the way things are like right now and always been like. That's what it all comes down to, cause I won't get cured or drastically better, and a child can't change who I am as a person.
Of all the things I want to do before I die, this, about becoming a parent, surely stings the hardest. It's one of the hardest decisions I've ever tried to make and it won't get any easier as time passes and I get older. If I get older, that is. There are so many things to think about and consider and reconsider. I'm not a perfect, straight, cis-male with a healthy mind and background. It's so much more complicated. I know what I want, I just don't know if I can have it.
Sunday, 22 March 2015
This pain inside
He uploaded a music video on facebook a while ago, and I listen to it on repeat as I pretend I'm not completely alone. That he's here, somehow, I don't know how. If he could just appear before me like a hallucination. Maybe I need him as a hallucination, cause that would be better than this nothing. Why can't my mind create him? Because nothing I can ever imagine would be good enough, and my subconscious knows that.
All I wanted was to show him my love. Why am I talking about him in past tense...? I feel like I've lost him and I'm crumbling. But still he reblogs my posts on tumblr and that's literally everything. The only connection that I still have with him.
I can't understand why he stopped talking to me. Can't figure out if it's something I have done. And the day softly passes by, the sun is slowly going down and I can't breathe. Because it hurts so much to just exist right now.
And as I realise, that the pain I feel today is not so different from how I felt one and a half year ago. I read through old poems from September 2013 when my love for him was new. Already hurting, but somehow this is different. I didn't know him back then, I was in love, but I wasn't sure who I was in love with. Him, or just an ideal.
I know better now, I know because I know both his light and darkness, and a few of the greys in between and I love it all. Blindly I love him, completely blindly. And it's destroying me. I'm sure I won't survive another heartbreak, not after everything. It seemed so promising and my hopes were sky high, now everything just hurts.
And I find myself sitting and just staring into nothingness for longer moments. I have no words left in me, just this incredible pain. This sadness or whatever it is, is drowning me.
All I wanted was to show him my love. Why am I talking about him in past tense...? I feel like I've lost him and I'm crumbling. But still he reblogs my posts on tumblr and that's literally everything. The only connection that I still have with him.
I can't understand why he stopped talking to me. Can't figure out if it's something I have done. And the day softly passes by, the sun is slowly going down and I can't breathe. Because it hurts so much to just exist right now.
And as I realise, that the pain I feel today is not so different from how I felt one and a half year ago. I read through old poems from September 2013 when my love for him was new. Already hurting, but somehow this is different. I didn't know him back then, I was in love, but I wasn't sure who I was in love with. Him, or just an ideal.
I know better now, I know because I know both his light and darkness, and a few of the greys in between and I love it all. Blindly I love him, completely blindly. And it's destroying me. I'm sure I won't survive another heartbreak, not after everything. It seemed so promising and my hopes were sky high, now everything just hurts.
And I find myself sitting and just staring into nothingness for longer moments. I have no words left in me, just this incredible pain. This sadness or whatever it is, is drowning me.
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