I want to write a book about myself, but lately I've been hesitating to put so much information about myself out there, you know. It's a lot like this blog, what I've written so far in it, but more in order and less rambling about random days' events.
The number one thing that I need to decide if I want to disclose is my transsexualism. Without it, I simply can't write that book. And I've been meaning to finish it before I die. I have had the thought that I could just write it, finish it and then not let it be published until after I'm dead. That would solve my problem of it being too revealing, since if I'm dead, everything could be revealed and it wouldn't bother me, whether I'm still here as a ghost or something or not.
If my prophecy is right, which I believe it is, I will be dead in less than 2 years so I'd better hurry up and write that book. I want the world to know me, who I was, and I've been inspired from a movie called "The number 23" starring Jim Carrey (one of his few serious roles, maybe I should add) and in it his character wrote an autobiography that started out as a suicide letter.
I think mine will go the other way around though, and end as a suicide letter instead. The thought has followed me, as if it might be the only way I can write such a book. Cause I can't hold back. I've so far written about my past up until I'm about 17 years old and it's very graphic, very detailed and includes close to everything that I've been through. I suppose up until about age 15 it's mostly focused on the bullying, Dala, Anna and school in general. It includes my family too of course, but not so much as I'm not actually writing about them, I'm writing about myself and that has to be the main focus.
I didn't have any friends up until age 11 so obviously I didn't write about that. Then I did write about my best friend who still is my best friend to this day, and I can only hope that I didn't write too much about her. I don't want to reveal shit about other people. I'd likely use a pseudonym but ask the people involved if that is necessary. I don't know.
I don't know how "famous" that book could possibly become either. My life is quite interesting, but there are a lot of young writers who write autobiographies these days. I guess I'll never know if I do decide to wait with getting it published until after my death. Force someone else to send it out there for me, or do it as a last thing before I go. And then fail my attempt and see the horror of being famous for everything that I'm mildly ashamed of... ah, life, I guess.
So I don't want to be famous then? It's a tricky question to answer, cause on one hand I'd love to be seen and heard, but on the other hand I don't think I'd like the attention. And with an autobiography, I can't really pick and choose what to get famous for, it would be literally everything there is to know about me. People would feel sorry for me, feel sad for me, be revolted and pick and poke like crazy. I can only imagine, but to me, it kind of is bitter sweet.
As a kid, I dreamed of becoming famous for what I loved doing: drawing and writing, singing and something more that I've likely forgotten. During the very early years, singing was my most favourite thing to do. I mostly sang in my forgotten language of Dala, in Swedish I called it "dalariska" which could be translated to "Dalarian" or something. To other people it was gibberish or fake English. If only they knew.
As I grew up I learned that my singing was dreadful and I couldn't carry a single tone, they were mean to me about it so eventually I stopped singing. I stopped singing completely, couldn't even do it in the shower. And even to this day, I can't sing in public. It's a nightmare singing "happy birthday" to people. I keep my voice low and quiet. I had actually not sung that melody since before my transition when I finally had to at some random place about a year ago. It was weird, hearing my own voice, now on testosterone, for the first time in public like that.
It greatly affected me, those mean comments, but I still love singing, and I do try to practice it on my own within my own apartment. I try to learn how to sing with real tones, although I still can't really hear the difference between real tones and false ones. I blame it on my hearing impairment, as everyone else in my family don't have the same problem.
Where was I? Yes, fame. Maybe every kid at least once dream of fame, I don't know. But I suppose that when I was about 12-13 or so, that dream became less appealing to me, because of the attention. As I was being bullied, attention in itself has never really been something that I truly sought after. But to be heard and seen for what I've always loved doing, or since I learned how to use a pen at least, it kind of seems appealing to me. To be half famous for the right reasons.
To have readers; to let the world, or at least some of Sweden, see my art. Or to just let them have the option to. Because I care more about just sharing my work that I've put so much effort into than to get praised for it. Or money, for that matter. Sure, I too would love having something close to a real job that I love doing, to get some extra money so that I can... I don't know, fulfill my dreams sounds so stupid.
What I mean is maybe things like learning to drive and have my own car, move back to Uppsala, get tattoos and plastic surgery, buy more expensive art supplies and what not along those lines. Can money buy dreams? I don't know, but it could take you on the way to some of them. It depends on what your dreams are. If they involve practical things like those above mentioned, or if they include more, I don't, "vague" stuff like love or what not, it could be harder to buy.
I do dream of getting rich enough to afford those things, but I don't think I'll live long enough to get to that point. I don't even know if I'll survive this summer. Although I'll be sure to try to. I'll once again celebrate my "new" chest and buy neat swim shorts that fit and swim/bathe as much as I can. I don't need to be half as careful with my chest this summer as it's not as recently operated on now. It will have been almost 1,5 years ago when summer finally arrives.
I'm not like other goths, I love sun and swimming and enjoying those really warm summer days wearing nothing but shorts. Drinking soda with or without vodka in it, writing at an outdoors cafe or on a lawn somewhere. Gotta get myself a cheap laptop so that I can do that by machine instead of by hand and then writing it all again to get it into my stationary computer. Such a hassle. I love writing outdoors during the summer season. And of course, smoking outdoors is also quite pleasant compared to the cold seasons.
Maybe then I'll finish my autobiography, when I can get a laptop that I can bring with me basically everywhere I go. I would use it mainly to write, check online forums/websites and listen to music. Just the simple stuff that won't kill it, like WoW would. It doesn't even have to have that much memory space, since I'd mostly be saving my stuff on external hard drives or those little pocket things.
Ah, yes I dream of simply having a laptop by summer. I'll spend whatever money I have on it if I can't convince my family to get one for me. Like a couple of thousand kr. would be enough. Also, then I'd also want a decent camera at some point. So that I can take better pictures of my art, my own ugly face and maybe, just maybe to also record videos with. I'd like to become a useful member of youtube one day, or to make vlogs here on this blog. Speed drawings, is also something that I've had in mind lately.
So, I'm not entirely depressed/sad today, I've got something like close to a spark within me. Almost energy, I feel restless, like I want to do something but can't figure out what. Oh, by the way, my autobiography is still written in Swedish, because I'd most like to get a Swedish audience for it, then it can be translated later on. If only I can figure out how to translate the school years, like they don't have lågstadie, mellanstadie, högstadie in English. Or gymnasium for that matter. It's an entirely different school system, so yeah. That's mostly why I decided to write it in Swedish, as so much of it is focused on what schools I went to, all from ages 6 through 22. That's a lot of school.
I've never once had a job in my life, so yeah. I've either been studying or just living on allowance. Sometimes both. So no, I don't have any studying allowance dept, it's all for free. Well, I got another type of allowance up until I was 16, it's called "barnbidrag" in Swedish and everyone gets it. Then it was something similar but more of it up until I was 18 years old, then I got what I have now, which is called "aktivitetsersättning" and is mostly or only for mentally disabled people. So no, I've never made my own money, if not selling a few random artworks here and there counts.
I went to the bathroom and then I forgot what more I wanted to say. Then my thoughts started spinning and somehow I ended up in an imaginary threesome with K and his partner. Nope, not gonna tell you any details, but actually it was just a discussion and I never came to the actual sex part. I guess it would hurt too much to even think about. But if they asked me, I don't think I would say no. I've done similar things in the past, so yeah. It could even be nice, if it wouldn't hurt tremendously.
But I don't know, I've almost gotten hints about it before. Or maybe I just wish that those were hints, that he would somehow want to include me, even if it meant being with his partner too. I mean, it likely wouldn't be awful, I like her too. Not even remotely as much as I like him of course, but yeah. Maybe I'm just trying to mentally prepare myself for that ever possibly happening in the future. And I would set rules and be very clear with what's okay or not, as I've had some disastrous threesomes in the past. Maybe I'm revealing too much now, I don't know. You can just, uhm, shut your eyes or something.
I don't know how much of my sexual adventures I'd add in my autobiography, as they are at least somewhat important, at least those that were incredible, traumatising or shaped me in one way or another. Like with my first boyfriend, sexual assault, almost getting paid for it at one point, some one night stands, picking up people online and the threesomes. Those that left me significantly confused, amazed, horrified, scarred or empty. It's a part of what I've been through, a part of what shaped me into who I am today and therefor I deem it important enough to include.
Though, I haven't gotten quite that far into my writing, or I precisely have, as I had my sexual debut(s) when I was 17 and that's how far as I've gotten into my writing. I don't know what to count as my debut, as for me, sex is more than just intercourse. It can be so much more, and as a pansexual transgendered person, I really know that. I have 3 major events that I count as some kind of debut. The first being everything but intercourse, the second being the rape and the third being the first actual consensual intercourse. I was in the female role and he male, so that's that. I don't know at what point I lost my virginity, but I was 17 at all 3 times. No, I just remembered, I had turned 18 by the third event.
I also know that despite being so (relatively) old at those times, I was pretty eager to lose my virginity from around age 13 or so. I was just too damn unpopular that I simply could not get laid. Is that tragic? And then it all went so horribly wrong, and I do blame myself, but I also don't. It wasn't "my fault" but it was a choice that I could have not taken. I let myself be allured into a definite trap I could no longer get out of. Dependent on that train that he had to take me to. Yes, that's me talking about the rape. Of course it's gonna be included in my book, very detailed, vivid and horrible. Simply because it's such a major event in my life and it still haunts me to this day, even though it was now over 8 years ago.
It was 8 years ago, and it was also yesterday, in my mind, heart and soul. My body doesn't remember how it felt, but my mind remembers the helplessness. It shaped me in so many ways, and I'm not even sure if I can, but I do, at least partially, blame my asexual tendencies on the sexual assault that I went through, both when I was 17 and 9. I also blame some of my self hatred on it, my insecurity, my periods of sex addiction and a greed that I can't control, my shyness, my trust issues, my huge personal space and so on.
It fucked me up on more levels than I can fathom. I wrote about my first sexual assault, not in detail, but sort of what went on, and everything that happened to me afterwards. All of middle school (or mellanstadiet, ages 10 through 13) I was a complete mess. I started revolting against my bullies, I was pissed almost constantly as I covered my fear with anger to an almost ridiculous point as I was so scared. I started hearing voices (except or beyond Anna) and dissociated a lot. I started some minor forms of self harm like banging my head into walls, hitting myself until I bruised, ripping off the skin of my lips (dermatillomania?) and scratching myself with my nails.
Also, it was about that time that I realised that Anna wasn't real and her behaviour started changing for the first time. She became cruel to me and yeah. Everything was a mess and I didn't think that it actually fucked me up as much as it did, before I went back into my past and also uncovered a lot more memories during the summer before last. I still don't think I can remember exactly what happened when they assaulted me, my bullies, that I've blocked some of it out. Anna has hinted that there is more but she keeps it from me. She still protects me, carrying my most awful memories, those that I can't carry myself.
So I couldn't disclose the whole event even if I wanted to. There are very few things in my life that I am not prepared to talk about. Those are that first assault when I was 9 and then 2 things that I've done myself after that. I can hint, but I just can't really, actually tell anyone what happened. If I'm too ashamed, or just have an ounce of dignity, or even because I feel the need to protect the people I've hurt, I don't know but it could be that.
Damn I should eat something, but I just can't leave my computer. Just can't stop writing. But maybe, when or if I finish this huge, massive text, I'll go back to my autobiography and continue where I left off almost 2 years ago. Dig out my old diaries again and start researching my past. Back to my second gymnasium (upper high) school and those more or less traumatic experiences, those first sexual ones and then get into my first real relationship with the guy who also hurt me so badly.
There's so much trauma in my life from then on, so much darkness, as if my childhood and early teenage years were bright in comparison... Maybe they were, I don't know. It's hard to compare. But I wasn't bullied anymore once I changed schools, I just happened to end up with one jerk after another. It's my bad luck, and my desperation for that one true love, that lead me constantly in the wrong direction.
I'm glad that I do have all my diaries though, I've kept every single one since I was 8 years old and got my first one. They're all sorted chronologically in my book shelf, so, easy access and everything. I don't write directly from them though, only major events and dress them up a little bit better without lying or anything like that. Just tell the truth in a different way. Now, I can finish up this entry and go back into my past once again.
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