I've been starting to see that prostituation could actually, maybe, be a way for me to get off this island and move to somewhere I'd actually want to live instead. Cause with that, even if I'm not terribly lucky, I could still get an actually substantial amount of money from it. And if I then save as much as realistically possible, I could potentially have enough (after a few years or so) to buy or rent a more expensive apartment in Stockholm and not have to deal with the ridiculously long waiting queue for regular renting flats off the website. I could just buy one directly from another person who's selling theirs, or go through real estate. Not saying it would be "easy" though, I'm saying it would be easy in comparison. With my parents' help, of course. I've gotta be smart with my money though, so I don't just piss it all away. Cause having been kinda poor my whole life, I can see it would really difficult to suddenly need to know how to handle larger sums efficiently and in a smart way.
That would be the sweetest thing if it could be possible though. Cause if I'm gonna be brutally realistic about my situation, I'm not gonna be able to find a place in Stockholm with my current financial situation. And the other kind of allowance I could get after turning 30 would be on the same minimum wage amount, just with a different name and stricter rules to get it. Once having it, it wouldn't be any difference. Then I could maybe get an apartment 10-15 years from now if I just continue sitting on my ass and do nothing. At least if the country's residence crisis continues like this with the ever expanding population rate and not enough buildings to go around. That is a real issue for me and not just boring politics, no matter how much I keep telling myself it will just be fine while I shut my ear and eyes and sing lalala.
Cause it won't, not at this rate. The entire country's economy is on the brink of collapsing, pretty much, and the only thing barely holding it together at this point is ironically enough the constant waves of new immigrants moving in, which further worsens the crisis of people not being able to find somewhere to live. (This is why "open borders immigration" is a flawed concept that will eventually ruin the whole country and has nothing to do with racism, by the way. It's essentially overpopulation in a specific nation which the nation cannot handle in the long run as it runs out of resources for its people, native or not). The economy will collapse, sooner or later, when the bubble can't hold anymore. What happens then, I don't know. But I hope the complete idiots in our government will manage to pull something out of their arses to patch up the situation that they literally caused with their idiotic decision to take in far more immigrants than the country could hold.
But whatever, as I don't have that kind of power to prevent that future economy collapse or to fix it the damage that surely follows, I'll just have to try to fix my own collapsing economy. Somehow. But I'm at least actually kinda glad that this is not my main reason for my wish to become a prostitute, but a thought that came up a lot later on. Actually 8 years later on. That means it's not my main driving force, so it's not very likely it would become the push that then becomes the shove into that kind of work. However it could become so that it might drive me to try to earn more and more money quicker once I'm already in it. But that would still be a lot better cause then I'd feel pressured slower and more gradually over time when already haven gotten a hang of it - instead of shoving myself face first into it when it's still unfamiliar territory which would be much more damaging, both short term and long term.
It's very difficult to say how much I could reasonably earn as a prostitute, but from looking around online, it looks like I could expect twice the amount I get monthly today at least. At least! That means I could actually, if I'd get good at it and a fairly good amount of clients, very reasonably earn something like 40 thousand a month (pre- taxes though). I just cooked up some simple maths to see how that could work out in theory. Let's say I'd start off with 2000 kr per fuck and do that 3 times/week. Then that's 12 fucks/month which adds up to 24 thousand kr/month. If I'd keep the price but up the frequency to 5 fucks/week, we're already looking at 40 thousand kr/month. But then let's say I'd up the price to 3000 kr/fuck but keep the frequency of 5 fucks/week, then lo and behold, we're looking at a 60 thousand kr/month salary. That's almost what a doctor earns! (However it's more reasonable I'd start with a lower price and work my way up, and also not every fuck would cost the same cause it would depend on what we'd do/which services agreed upon and for how long sessions, so my calculations are just a very rough estimate.)
Just to put it into some kind of perspective: I think both my parents together get/earn almost around 30-40 thousand, which is enough to support our entire family, own a house, 2 cars, goodness knows how many cats, and save money. I don't think I could earn more than that while still living on Gotland cause of just not being able to get that many clients due to the low population rate and me being a guy (however it could be easier on summers cause of the massive increase in tourists then) but it would certainly be enough to save up enough to be able to move to the much bigger Stockholm where I could much more likely get popular and earn even more.
I might even be able to get financially independent, if I dared to hope that high. Cause then I could potentially be earning something even higher like 50 or even 60 thousand a month if I'd be a real Duracell rabbit (some of you Swedes might get the reference, but if you don't I just mean I'd need to be very frequent about it and not get tired or a little less frequent but up my prices which I could maybe do if I'd get like professionally good in bed). So with that kind of money and only having myself to support... It would however only be possible for me to get filthy rich from selling my butt if:
1) it works out rather well to begin with and it's something I can manage to continue with in the long run
2) I could get enough clients/often enough shags for the payments to keep building up
3) I stay out of legal trouble, at least economic and/or costly ones
4) I don't get ill or injured for any longer period of time in which I'd be unable to work
5) I actually do manage to move and continue my business in Stockholm where there's more people, therefore more money
6) I keep my mental stability in check
7) and give at least a decade to being in that business
as well as probably a whole host of other "ifs", but I think those might be some of the most important ones. However, if I do end up getting into porn as well, that might get me more money per fuck but I've no idea if it would be less or more exhausting to do.
I mean, let's see it this way: what's the harm in trying if it is what I actually want to do regardless? And don't give me any of the legal bullshit, the health risks or any moral preachings. I'm talking about if it can realistically be done, and if I could realistically manage it psychologically. The legal-argumment is unnecessary cause I do and will try my best on that point already, same with the health risks, and morality is just not an argumment at all.
It could actually be extra advantagous that I'm such a good liar, in terms of getting myself out of or avoiding legal trouble. Like I can easily see myself lying my ass off about how "I'm a well-adjusted, hard-working masseur who didn't do nothing wrong, how even dare you accusing me of... that!" with a faked look of horror and disgust on my face, but without overplaying it like that, of course.
Oh but I think it would be fun and exciting though. Exhausting, terrifying, nerve-wrecking, tiring and difficult too. Am I looking at this realistically enough? Would I ever have a chance in that kind of work? Or would I just do it once and then curl up on my bed while gasping "never again!"? Oh but how can my life ever be complete without that kind of experience, even if it is terrible? My heart is terrible, it can't live without its high doses of sex and danger. Combine the two and it's a home. Damn I'm fucked up, but I love it. It's not insanity if you're not suffering from it.
That is actually true in a sense and not just something I made up. I meant that in order for something to be considered a mental illness or psychological condition, it has to require that the patient is suffering from it or the consequences of it. If there's no suffering, there's no illness. Then you're just weird. So I guess that must be the literal difference between being "weird" and "insane" if you put it into that kind of perspective. The absense or presence or suffering. I haven't thought of that before.
Of course I don't think that wanting to become a prostitute is a in any way a mental illness, I was actually referring to my... I don't think I can call it a "sex addiction" but let's just pretend it's close enough for argumment's sake. I meant my obsession with stranger sex and dangerous sex. And since I've had quite a bit of it in my life so far, yet never even got an STD, never actually got psychologically harmed by it (rather the opposite in fact) or harmed in any other way (I don't count the rape because that happened before I started seeking out sex with strangers), never got pregnant... where's the suffering? The behaviour itself hasn't been harmful for me despite the dangers that it comes with, but no I'm not saying that the trauma that lead me to that behaviour hasn't been harmful. That's another thing. And let's keep them separate for at least as long as one is harmful and the other is harmless, cause it's an important distinction to make.
Sunday, 28 January 2018
Saturday, 27 January 2018
My fuck-up's are keeping me blind
I don't think it was a particularly good idea, but after having weighed the risks, pros and cons, I did make the decision to admit in a post on tumblr about my pedophilia. Let's see how many hundred followers I'll lose and how quickly. Well so far just 10 of them. It was a reply to someone else's post that I reblogged and certainly on topic. I mainly responded to the original post, thanking the person for being considerate to differentiate between pedophiles and child molesters as well as advocating for therapy to be available for that... condition? I agreed that child molestation is utterly atrocious, that I was a victom of it as well, and then that I thought it was shitty to wish death upon non-offending pedophiles who do everything they possibly can to not be around children just because their attraction is icky, before even making my confession. But I also responded to the others' responses attached to the original post, saying basically that I understood their reasons for being callous bigots but that they didn't have my compassion with a kind of vague-ish "fight me" suggestion.
Oh what the heck, here's a copy of my literal post:
"[tumblr.url] I have the same controversal opinion on this as you. I think therapy should at least be an option for non-offending pedophiles who want to keep being non-offenders. In theory this is already available, but therapists can in many countries report you and have you arrested for just mentioning you have any pedophilic thoughts/feelings despite being innocent of any crime, so unfortunately not many even dare to speak up or get therapy out of fear. This I think absolutely needs to change.
Everyone alive could potentially become murderers. Does that mean we should kill and/or lock up everyone just in case they might commit murder in any conceivable future? This is fearmongering and won’t solve anything.
Child molestation is absolutely 100% wrong, horrible and only harms innocent people for life. I know this cause I’ve been through that too and the trauma still affects me today. But I also know that just having an attraction to kids does not mean that person is by default a monster, if they’re disgusted by themselves and actively avoid being around kids at all times and never harm any kids in any conceivable way. And willingly opt out of ever having their own kids. I know that cause that’s also my reality. So I see both sides of that coin, as both a victim and a non-offending pedophile who knows right from wrong. Thank you [same tumblr.url] for being one of few who understands. The world isn’t so black and white.
And to everyone else: come at me if you wish, pretty sure I can handle it. You have my understanding for your reaction but you don’t have my compassion."
Was it brave, was it stupid? Maybe both, for all I know. I really doubt I could face legal troubles for just talking about it like that online, but of course I know there's a risk letting anyone know. And that the more known it would eventually become, the more ostracized I'll probably become in real life as well. Lose friends, become unemployable, and so on. But I'm already struggling to keep my friends due to my political opinion shift and personality shift, and I really don't want to be employable either. In fact I've been struggling hard to make sure I'm unemployable ever since I turned 18. If I had figured it out sooner that it could be that easy to make sure no decent employer/company would want me around, to just say "by the way I'm a pedophile" I probably would have a lot sooner as well. Even though that word doesn't exactly roll off my tongue easily, or even off my fingers onto the keyboard. It feels like sticking my hand in rot, or putting rot in my mouth.
Words are harmless, but sometimes the consequences of using them in certain ways and contexts feels like getting an internal bleeding. But the only way to possibly change the impact of the words is to keep using them until you're desensitised. The word "rape" had the same feels-like-internal-bleeding impact on me not that long ago, until I started using and reading and hearing it more and more. Now I still flinch at it, still get a little uncomfortable, but nowhere near the original suicidal nausea it used to cause. And I will keep using it until I'm okay with it. That's also why I came to change my mind about the use of "trigger warnings" but I don't feel like getting more into that now.
I've been feeling more wreck-like these past few weeks or so. Not to an alarming degree, but I certainly feel off. Forcing myself to go to that "job training" place in Visby twice a week, or at all, has been starting to dig its ugly claws into me and pulling me down. I keep going more and more seldom, blaming it on "accidental" sleep pattern chaos even though it's very much not unintentional. Lying, deceiving, while firmly stating I'm being honest, while it's crawling under my skin how much I want leave that place and never come back, as I don't know what else to do. It's not bad to be there, it's literally only because I can't opt out of it that my entire being is resisting it. I'm allergic to being forced. (That's why I'm a hopelessly submissive bottom in bed.) And then with the hassle of trying to figure how to possibly become a "legal" prostitute in some kind of future which just has me running into dead ends. And then just my past creeping up to remind me it was still real, as far as I can determine my own reality and deceptive memories, at least. And of course the frustrating waiting time to get SRS that just keeps weighing heavier and heavier on me by the day.
I become irrational as my feelings start sprouting in all and every direction like fireworks, but not nearly as pretty. In fact it's rather ugly. I wouldn't be able to name what feelings even if I tried harder. I did give it an honest try when I was in the shower, couple of hours ago, but my words just got more abstract instead of less. But I think mostly it's various, very vague, ever-changing, shifting and kinda strange forms of fear, anger, frustration, resentment and irritation with a bit of schadenfreude, sprinkled with hopes and dreams. That pretty much sums up my entire past year, come to think of it, at least if I'll add in lust and pride as well. A lot of really dark and selfish moods and feelings, and then the odd dreamy hopefulness that basically carries all the other feelings afloat so that they don't sink me.
I keep being a self-centered savage, especially online, as my lack of empathy tends to get me carried away in the many debate-like situations I get myself caught up in, but I still manage to remain calm and at least pretend to be compassionate in less political conversations. Basically, if someone says something fucked up about any demographic/group of people, especially one I'm part of and/or know well, I just can't help but verbally feeding them with their own shoes - but if it's just someone sharing any personal story or opinion without making false claims about any objective truth or attacking any entire demographic of people, I'll be kind to them. Is it uncalled for and unnecessary? Sometimes, yeah. I do regret some things I say from time to time, but you know what? I'd rather have more regrets over things I have done in life than more regrets over things I wish I had done but never dared to. I'd rather know failure than not know at all. At least with some things.
I've developed a sharper tongue as of lately and obviously it's gonna sting me back from time to time, but I really need to learn to not feel as though the entire world is going to end over one little social mishap, and I also need to learn when and how to properly apologise and learn from the mishaps once they do happen. I don't know how credible people think I am as a person these days, if I come off as honest, deceiving, trustworthy, creepy, dangerous, sweet... I try to adapt myself less now, like I used to adapt drastically depending on who with and where I was speaking, which was extremely exhausting. So now I'm only adapting a little when I think it's actually necessary, otherwise stay pretty much the same regardless of who I'm talking to or in what kind of situation. But problem still is that I'm extremely all over the place with my personal opinions which can switch back and forth by the minute, my crappy memory combined with that, and my cognitive dissonance, as well as my deceit and hidden agendas. All of that makes it pretty much impossible for me to actually be credible regardless of anyone's personal opinions on whether they think I am or not. But I'm still curious if people's perception of me matches up with my own.
I've noticed that as a manipulative, deceitful and more or less abusive and half-kinda narcissistic person - I really don't get along well with other people that are like that too if they pull the same shit on me as I on them. Holy shit we rip each other apart like rabid, starving dogs in a boxing ring. Just an interesting phenomena I've come to have some experience with, also rather lately. They're not difficult to get into in youtube comment sections. People are savages there, and you can easily find quite a lot of dark minds, and if you jump in freely, don't expect to come back out of it in one piece. But do it often enough and it eventually it doesn't phase me much anymore. Just feeling a little bit roughed up and shaken at worst. But if I ever thought two or more truly dark-minded people with extremely different opinions could have an even remotely civilised discussion... I was completely and utterly wrong about it. However, as long as we do have rather similar opinions, the outcome is entirely different, especially if it's unpopular or uncommon opinion to have. Then it's actually liberating, especially to both talk utter shit about other people or gang up on someone weaker who joins in later on... oh fuck, what a hypocrite I am.
I've found different, far more comfortable, ways for me to talk to people and it isn't exactly appreciated by the sensitive, although it often is by the more rough-skinned. My change in personality lead to a change in my language (far less pandering and "softness" and more direct, sharp and blunt instead) which furthermore lead to a change in what kind of people are either drawn towards me or start to back away from me. So I'm saying that was an unintented change that just came with the territory. And I just feel it in my gut and heart that there's no going back should I want to.
Of course I never thought it was a bad idea to make friends with sketchy people even when others adviced me not to, cause of being a kind of sketchy person myself. And it seems apparently this is a common trait for sociopaths: to basically treat friends, family members and strangers alike. Like you may be unnecessarily mean to a friend for no good reason or let a complete stranger into your home as if it's nothing. Basically that you have no actual personal barrier between who to reasonably trust and who not to. I always thought that was just me being weird and having a "different approach" to coping with my trust issues. But ugh, of course it's much more likely due to my lack of empathy and exploitative ways of making friends, as well as being drawn to creeps and sleezy types in general, but not entirely without some amount of compassion and care for both complete strangers and friends alike. I don't think my brain or my heart knows what the fuck they're doing.
I still sometimes wonder just how horrible of a person I am, when it comes down to it, you know? If my albeit small but still existent compassion and care and random feelings of positive connection to other people is now just the faint sparks of a dying flame, or what actually keeps me from turning into a literal monster. I still think about my past, latest relationship a lot, but unable to come to terms with my actions or to even grasp what I did. It still is unreal for me. Unfathomable. Never have I acted in such a horrible manner before, to the point of... I don't know how badly I broke him. And I might never know. Nor is it my place to.
It took me a while to even notice when he had stopped following me on tumblr. I didn't want to keep pouring even more salt in his wounds that I caused, so I unfollowed him too, out of courtesy or just feeling iffy about it. Worried I might accidentally click "like" or reblog unintentionally when not paying attention on who's post was in front of me in my tumblr dashboard feed of everyone I follow. Only occasionally I visit his blog manually now, mostly out of curiosity, but also cause of me having trouble of completely letting go of what happened between us. At some point I saw a post of his about how he had broken contact with someone he described as "extremely toxic" that he warned others about, and I just knew it was me. It felt surreal to read such harsh words describing me as an abuser.
It's like I'm only half aware, while half trying to accept, half trying to deflect. It's like trying to fight my own reflexes, like trying to keep my hand on a hot stove while my reflexes keep pulling it away to protect it from getting burned. Simply, my own mind is fighting itself. I don't mean to deny what happened or what I did, but I also cannot make myself openly admit it completely. Only in hushed tongues, and never face to face. I can't even figure out if it would be better to keep it private or be more open about it, if I don't lie or distort the truth. But I would be careful of who to tell regardless.
It also fucks with my head that so much of him kept reminding me of Robin, my first boyfriend who was abusive towards me. Even so to the point I was extremely close to accidentally calling him by the wrong name, several times, only just barely catching my tongue before it formed the name. Their names not at all alike, but their personalities kinda were to me, and it frightened me. Cause it took months into the relationship for me to realise. I saw a familiar pattern that pulled me back into a very confusing and painful time of my past. And I know it probably caused a confusion in my head that made me think that he was abusing me too (I can't say either one way or the other if he actually did or not cause I honestly don't know, it's not me trying to smear him, it's because I simply can't figure it the fuck out), which was one if not most of the reason why I started to act badly - but not the reason why I fucked up horribly at the end. At that point I was just mean and had lousy reasons such as being tired of constantly trying to explain myself, wanting to keep my secrets to myself, thinking he was too sensitive. It was like I wanted for him to fight back and bite me hard like he had said he would, but he never did so I just kept going until I thought he was pathetic and not even worth it anymore. (So this is probably what the saying "kicking someone who's already down" means...) While at the same time I felt horrible for what I kept doing and I tried to stop but I kept messing up at every turn. I had lost control completely and by the time I finally managed to get even the lightest grip of myself I knew the only thing I possibly could do was to let go of him completely. But I still don't know why I did it. Maybe I too just wanted to watch the world burn.
It's not exactly something I'd want to put on a CV like "I'm also a domestic abuser". I joke about it to cope with the reality, not to make fun of anything about it, just to be clear. It's comparable to that kind of sudden, awkward laughter that slips out when you're so scared you think you're gonna die. Brains are strange, but my jokes are not malicious, no matter how dark the topic. They're coping mechanisms. That's why my absolute favourite type of jokes are about suicide, mentall illness and sexual abuse. So of course I didn't just call myself a "domestic abuser" cause of actually thinking that's fun or laughable. I made a joke about it cause it's a hideous thing to be and I don't know what to do with that kind of insight that I'd rather get off of me like a hot potato, so I made a poorly constructed joke at my own expense so that I can lightly and carefully hold on to it without drowning in my own despair over the realisation that would otherwise have me hyperventilating. Jokes are the opposite of problematic, they're therapy. The cheapest, most ancient form of therapy that literally everyone can access at will. They're the most healthy form of self medication there is. With no side effects at all. Realising that the act of joking about misery is not harmful but actually the exact opposite, is one of the most important and amazing realisations I've ever had.
But of course humour won't solve any actual damage even though it can absolutely relieve emotional pain. I did hear a really damn good rape joke not that long ago, actually, and I thought I'd tell it to you, but then I thought it seemed a bit forced.
Get it, get it? Isn't it just marvellous? It had me laughing for minutes at least. Though it took me a while to get it at first too. It's a sneaky one. But once I did I laughed and it was so liberating. To be able to hear a joke about something horrible you've been through, and feel a sudden laughter burst out of you like a sequence of velvet soap bubbles dancing out from within your darkness, for several minutes at an end (neighbours must have though I was utterly crazy if they hadn't known that already) until your stomach hurts from the tension and you're left with a silent, warming smile and tears in your eyes. A step further on the road of recovery: let go, just a little bit more, until you're flying. I do not take credit for that joke though, but I don't know who to give it to, but I did hear it from youtuber Sargon of Akkad in one of his videos. One of my favourite "skeptics" over there. So, unless he got it from someone else, I'll give credit to Carl. At the very least he should get the credit for making me aware of the joke's existence and making me laugh like that.
Sorry, got side-tracked. My attention span is always this crappy when I'm writing, so not exactly like I intended to get off topic. That's just how my thought process has always been like. It takes a new unexpected turn in the inner monologues (or dialogues if Anna is in on it too) pretty randomly. I might manage to get back on topic a little before I have to go to bed. Ugh, it will be the second night in a row I'll end by going to bed feeling like I've been emotionally mangled by a wood-chopper. Not so strange it's been getting more difficult to force my lazy ass out of bed every evening. Sometimes I just lie there half awake for 4-5 hours until I either get too thirsty, pee-needy or cigarette-needy. Or all three, for that matter. I barely eat these days as well, barely get down one meal a day, except from yesterday I didn't eat at all. So that probably fucks with my mental well-being too. Apparently I can't manage to get back on topic now, but I'll surely get back on it at some point later on again. Processing that shit certainly isn't over yet either. Like most of my burdens.
OOMPH! vocalist sings: "my fuck-up is keeping me blind" (from "Swallow") and I think he knows how I'm feeling. I'll leave it at that for now. Then just one more cigarette before I face-plant my pillow.
Oh what the heck, here's a copy of my literal post:
"[tumblr.url] I have the same controversal opinion on this as you. I think therapy should at least be an option for non-offending pedophiles who want to keep being non-offenders. In theory this is already available, but therapists can in many countries report you and have you arrested for just mentioning you have any pedophilic thoughts/feelings despite being innocent of any crime, so unfortunately not many even dare to speak up or get therapy out of fear. This I think absolutely needs to change.
Everyone alive could potentially become murderers. Does that mean we should kill and/or lock up everyone just in case they might commit murder in any conceivable future? This is fearmongering and won’t solve anything.
Child molestation is absolutely 100% wrong, horrible and only harms innocent people for life. I know this cause I’ve been through that too and the trauma still affects me today. But I also know that just having an attraction to kids does not mean that person is by default a monster, if they’re disgusted by themselves and actively avoid being around kids at all times and never harm any kids in any conceivable way. And willingly opt out of ever having their own kids. I know that cause that’s also my reality. So I see both sides of that coin, as both a victim and a non-offending pedophile who knows right from wrong. Thank you [same tumblr.url] for being one of few who understands. The world isn’t so black and white.
And to everyone else: come at me if you wish, pretty sure I can handle it. You have my understanding for your reaction but you don’t have my compassion."
Was it brave, was it stupid? Maybe both, for all I know. I really doubt I could face legal troubles for just talking about it like that online, but of course I know there's a risk letting anyone know. And that the more known it would eventually become, the more ostracized I'll probably become in real life as well. Lose friends, become unemployable, and so on. But I'm already struggling to keep my friends due to my political opinion shift and personality shift, and I really don't want to be employable either. In fact I've been struggling hard to make sure I'm unemployable ever since I turned 18. If I had figured it out sooner that it could be that easy to make sure no decent employer/company would want me around, to just say "by the way I'm a pedophile" I probably would have a lot sooner as well. Even though that word doesn't exactly roll off my tongue easily, or even off my fingers onto the keyboard. It feels like sticking my hand in rot, or putting rot in my mouth.
Words are harmless, but sometimes the consequences of using them in certain ways and contexts feels like getting an internal bleeding. But the only way to possibly change the impact of the words is to keep using them until you're desensitised. The word "rape" had the same feels-like-internal-bleeding impact on me not that long ago, until I started using and reading and hearing it more and more. Now I still flinch at it, still get a little uncomfortable, but nowhere near the original suicidal nausea it used to cause. And I will keep using it until I'm okay with it. That's also why I came to change my mind about the use of "trigger warnings" but I don't feel like getting more into that now.
I've been feeling more wreck-like these past few weeks or so. Not to an alarming degree, but I certainly feel off. Forcing myself to go to that "job training" place in Visby twice a week, or at all, has been starting to dig its ugly claws into me and pulling me down. I keep going more and more seldom, blaming it on "accidental" sleep pattern chaos even though it's very much not unintentional. Lying, deceiving, while firmly stating I'm being honest, while it's crawling under my skin how much I want leave that place and never come back, as I don't know what else to do. It's not bad to be there, it's literally only because I can't opt out of it that my entire being is resisting it. I'm allergic to being forced. (That's why I'm a hopelessly submissive bottom in bed.) And then with the hassle of trying to figure how to possibly become a "legal" prostitute in some kind of future which just has me running into dead ends. And then just my past creeping up to remind me it was still real, as far as I can determine my own reality and deceptive memories, at least. And of course the frustrating waiting time to get SRS that just keeps weighing heavier and heavier on me by the day.
I become irrational as my feelings start sprouting in all and every direction like fireworks, but not nearly as pretty. In fact it's rather ugly. I wouldn't be able to name what feelings even if I tried harder. I did give it an honest try when I was in the shower, couple of hours ago, but my words just got more abstract instead of less. But I think mostly it's various, very vague, ever-changing, shifting and kinda strange forms of fear, anger, frustration, resentment and irritation with a bit of schadenfreude, sprinkled with hopes and dreams. That pretty much sums up my entire past year, come to think of it, at least if I'll add in lust and pride as well. A lot of really dark and selfish moods and feelings, and then the odd dreamy hopefulness that basically carries all the other feelings afloat so that they don't sink me.
I keep being a self-centered savage, especially online, as my lack of empathy tends to get me carried away in the many debate-like situations I get myself caught up in, but I still manage to remain calm and at least pretend to be compassionate in less political conversations. Basically, if someone says something fucked up about any demographic/group of people, especially one I'm part of and/or know well, I just can't help but verbally feeding them with their own shoes - but if it's just someone sharing any personal story or opinion without making false claims about any objective truth or attacking any entire demographic of people, I'll be kind to them. Is it uncalled for and unnecessary? Sometimes, yeah. I do regret some things I say from time to time, but you know what? I'd rather have more regrets over things I have done in life than more regrets over things I wish I had done but never dared to. I'd rather know failure than not know at all. At least with some things.
I've developed a sharper tongue as of lately and obviously it's gonna sting me back from time to time, but I really need to learn to not feel as though the entire world is going to end over one little social mishap, and I also need to learn when and how to properly apologise and learn from the mishaps once they do happen. I don't know how credible people think I am as a person these days, if I come off as honest, deceiving, trustworthy, creepy, dangerous, sweet... I try to adapt myself less now, like I used to adapt drastically depending on who with and where I was speaking, which was extremely exhausting. So now I'm only adapting a little when I think it's actually necessary, otherwise stay pretty much the same regardless of who I'm talking to or in what kind of situation. But problem still is that I'm extremely all over the place with my personal opinions which can switch back and forth by the minute, my crappy memory combined with that, and my cognitive dissonance, as well as my deceit and hidden agendas. All of that makes it pretty much impossible for me to actually be credible regardless of anyone's personal opinions on whether they think I am or not. But I'm still curious if people's perception of me matches up with my own.
I've noticed that as a manipulative, deceitful and more or less abusive and half-kinda narcissistic person - I really don't get along well with other people that are like that too if they pull the same shit on me as I on them. Holy shit we rip each other apart like rabid, starving dogs in a boxing ring. Just an interesting phenomena I've come to have some experience with, also rather lately. They're not difficult to get into in youtube comment sections. People are savages there, and you can easily find quite a lot of dark minds, and if you jump in freely, don't expect to come back out of it in one piece. But do it often enough and it eventually it doesn't phase me much anymore. Just feeling a little bit roughed up and shaken at worst. But if I ever thought two or more truly dark-minded people with extremely different opinions could have an even remotely civilised discussion... I was completely and utterly wrong about it. However, as long as we do have rather similar opinions, the outcome is entirely different, especially if it's unpopular or uncommon opinion to have. Then it's actually liberating, especially to both talk utter shit about other people or gang up on someone weaker who joins in later on... oh fuck, what a hypocrite I am.
I've found different, far more comfortable, ways for me to talk to people and it isn't exactly appreciated by the sensitive, although it often is by the more rough-skinned. My change in personality lead to a change in my language (far less pandering and "softness" and more direct, sharp and blunt instead) which furthermore lead to a change in what kind of people are either drawn towards me or start to back away from me. So I'm saying that was an unintented change that just came with the territory. And I just feel it in my gut and heart that there's no going back should I want to.
Of course I never thought it was a bad idea to make friends with sketchy people even when others adviced me not to, cause of being a kind of sketchy person myself. And it seems apparently this is a common trait for sociopaths: to basically treat friends, family members and strangers alike. Like you may be unnecessarily mean to a friend for no good reason or let a complete stranger into your home as if it's nothing. Basically that you have no actual personal barrier between who to reasonably trust and who not to. I always thought that was just me being weird and having a "different approach" to coping with my trust issues. But ugh, of course it's much more likely due to my lack of empathy and exploitative ways of making friends, as well as being drawn to creeps and sleezy types in general, but not entirely without some amount of compassion and care for both complete strangers and friends alike. I don't think my brain or my heart knows what the fuck they're doing.
I still sometimes wonder just how horrible of a person I am, when it comes down to it, you know? If my albeit small but still existent compassion and care and random feelings of positive connection to other people is now just the faint sparks of a dying flame, or what actually keeps me from turning into a literal monster. I still think about my past, latest relationship a lot, but unable to come to terms with my actions or to even grasp what I did. It still is unreal for me. Unfathomable. Never have I acted in such a horrible manner before, to the point of... I don't know how badly I broke him. And I might never know. Nor is it my place to.
It took me a while to even notice when he had stopped following me on tumblr. I didn't want to keep pouring even more salt in his wounds that I caused, so I unfollowed him too, out of courtesy or just feeling iffy about it. Worried I might accidentally click "like" or reblog unintentionally when not paying attention on who's post was in front of me in my tumblr dashboard feed of everyone I follow. Only occasionally I visit his blog manually now, mostly out of curiosity, but also cause of me having trouble of completely letting go of what happened between us. At some point I saw a post of his about how he had broken contact with someone he described as "extremely toxic" that he warned others about, and I just knew it was me. It felt surreal to read such harsh words describing me as an abuser.
It's like I'm only half aware, while half trying to accept, half trying to deflect. It's like trying to fight my own reflexes, like trying to keep my hand on a hot stove while my reflexes keep pulling it away to protect it from getting burned. Simply, my own mind is fighting itself. I don't mean to deny what happened or what I did, but I also cannot make myself openly admit it completely. Only in hushed tongues, and never face to face. I can't even figure out if it would be better to keep it private or be more open about it, if I don't lie or distort the truth. But I would be careful of who to tell regardless.
It also fucks with my head that so much of him kept reminding me of Robin, my first boyfriend who was abusive towards me. Even so to the point I was extremely close to accidentally calling him by the wrong name, several times, only just barely catching my tongue before it formed the name. Their names not at all alike, but their personalities kinda were to me, and it frightened me. Cause it took months into the relationship for me to realise. I saw a familiar pattern that pulled me back into a very confusing and painful time of my past. And I know it probably caused a confusion in my head that made me think that he was abusing me too (I can't say either one way or the other if he actually did or not cause I honestly don't know, it's not me trying to smear him, it's because I simply can't figure it the fuck out), which was one if not most of the reason why I started to act badly - but not the reason why I fucked up horribly at the end. At that point I was just mean and had lousy reasons such as being tired of constantly trying to explain myself, wanting to keep my secrets to myself, thinking he was too sensitive. It was like I wanted for him to fight back and bite me hard like he had said he would, but he never did so I just kept going until I thought he was pathetic and not even worth it anymore. (So this is probably what the saying "kicking someone who's already down" means...) While at the same time I felt horrible for what I kept doing and I tried to stop but I kept messing up at every turn. I had lost control completely and by the time I finally managed to get even the lightest grip of myself I knew the only thing I possibly could do was to let go of him completely. But I still don't know why I did it. Maybe I too just wanted to watch the world burn.
It's not exactly something I'd want to put on a CV like "I'm also a domestic abuser". I joke about it to cope with the reality, not to make fun of anything about it, just to be clear. It's comparable to that kind of sudden, awkward laughter that slips out when you're so scared you think you're gonna die. Brains are strange, but my jokes are not malicious, no matter how dark the topic. They're coping mechanisms. That's why my absolute favourite type of jokes are about suicide, mentall illness and sexual abuse. So of course I didn't just call myself a "domestic abuser" cause of actually thinking that's fun or laughable. I made a joke about it cause it's a hideous thing to be and I don't know what to do with that kind of insight that I'd rather get off of me like a hot potato, so I made a poorly constructed joke at my own expense so that I can lightly and carefully hold on to it without drowning in my own despair over the realisation that would otherwise have me hyperventilating. Jokes are the opposite of problematic, they're therapy. The cheapest, most ancient form of therapy that literally everyone can access at will. They're the most healthy form of self medication there is. With no side effects at all. Realising that the act of joking about misery is not harmful but actually the exact opposite, is one of the most important and amazing realisations I've ever had.
But of course humour won't solve any actual damage even though it can absolutely relieve emotional pain. I did hear a really damn good rape joke not that long ago, actually, and I thought I'd tell it to you, but then I thought it seemed a bit forced.
Get it, get it? Isn't it just marvellous? It had me laughing for minutes at least. Though it took me a while to get it at first too. It's a sneaky one. But once I did I laughed and it was so liberating. To be able to hear a joke about something horrible you've been through, and feel a sudden laughter burst out of you like a sequence of velvet soap bubbles dancing out from within your darkness, for several minutes at an end (neighbours must have though I was utterly crazy if they hadn't known that already) until your stomach hurts from the tension and you're left with a silent, warming smile and tears in your eyes. A step further on the road of recovery: let go, just a little bit more, until you're flying. I do not take credit for that joke though, but I don't know who to give it to, but I did hear it from youtuber Sargon of Akkad in one of his videos. One of my favourite "skeptics" over there. So, unless he got it from someone else, I'll give credit to Carl. At the very least he should get the credit for making me aware of the joke's existence and making me laugh like that.
Sorry, got side-tracked. My attention span is always this crappy when I'm writing, so not exactly like I intended to get off topic. That's just how my thought process has always been like. It takes a new unexpected turn in the inner monologues (or dialogues if Anna is in on it too) pretty randomly. I might manage to get back on topic a little before I have to go to bed. Ugh, it will be the second night in a row I'll end by going to bed feeling like I've been emotionally mangled by a wood-chopper. Not so strange it's been getting more difficult to force my lazy ass out of bed every evening. Sometimes I just lie there half awake for 4-5 hours until I either get too thirsty, pee-needy or cigarette-needy. Or all three, for that matter. I barely eat these days as well, barely get down one meal a day, except from yesterday I didn't eat at all. So that probably fucks with my mental well-being too. Apparently I can't manage to get back on topic now, but I'll surely get back on it at some point later on again. Processing that shit certainly isn't over yet either. Like most of my burdens.
OOMPH! vocalist sings: "my fuck-up is keeping me blind" (from "Swallow") and I think he knows how I'm feeling. I'll leave it at that for now. Then just one more cigarette before I face-plant my pillow.
Friday, 26 January 2018
Road blocks and legal technicalities
Sooo, lately I've been researching frantically about how I could in the future possibly make prostitution work out for me as either just something to try out
or to make a career out of (I think I might like to do porn on the side
later on as well, but that's nothing I've decided on yet either), as
there are many road blocks and legal technicalities I'll need to
understand, figure out and find solutions to before even attempting to
try it out in practice. It's been difficult and I have heaps of research
left to plow through, if I can bloody find it first. But at least I've
been getting somewhere. The most difficult is to find practical
information about running such a flimsy business and what possible
crimes I could be committing unknowingly which I surely want to avoid
committing in the first place
- when all I can find is how to have safe sex and interacting with
weird clients. Oh fucking sigh. Sure that's important too (and hilarious
to read about at times), but messing up on that point won't put me in
prison or get me evicted from my home, which I think are a tad more
pressing issues than whether or not I might end up with gonorrhea from a mishap or in an argument
with a rude client who has specific "needs" I'm not keen on indulging
for whatever reason. Just saying. I need to set my priorities in order.
And keeping my criminal record clean and keeping my home is of higher
priority than some temporarily distressing inconveniences.
I need to find out where I even could perform such activities legally, if the risk of getting evicted is really something I should be all that concerned with (cause I keep finding conflicting information on this) or if I'm gonna need to find a better solution to the issue of "location". I also need to know how I would receive payment and pay my taxes without going down for various economy crimes out of pure ignorance (struggling to find out whether or not it would be stupid to have such money on a regular bank account or if I could more safely use paypal (whether directly connected to my back card or somehow not) or I don't even know what), and if the best "info" I can find on those points is a comment thread on the number one Swedish website for fraudulent trolls who argue over the semantics of whether or not "selling sex isn't in the law-book so that means it's legal" actually means it's legal in practice is the best I can find I'm going to safely consider myself practically screwed. It is legal, but it's taboo, so no one is talking about it properly except anonymously in some obscure corners of the internet. How's that for an "education in preparation for a profession" huh? Not exactly college. Something like "Flashback: now offers highly unreliable education for possible future sex workers" sounds about right.
Oh sigh, what good did social taboos ever do for a society... But furthermore (oh of course there's more) I also need to know how to contact clients to be able to discuss stuff like payment, again preferably without legal repercussions. Yeah, it's probably gonna end up being a bit of a guessing game and having to settle with "preferring" to avoid legal repercussions... if that's the best I can do. But I don't know if just using my regular phone with its number directly tied to my real name would be "safe" because of it being illegal to buy sex and therefore a bad idea to have my real name connected to my means of contacting possible future clients. E-mail could work of course, but only relying on that might not be good enough, especially since not everyone has smartphones even though very many do nowadays. Some kind of phone number would probably be necessary no matter what, but I don't know what options there could be in terms of acquiring a SIM-card that's not connected to my legal name or personal identity number, for that matter. But also again, not sure just how important this is to consider either.
I hope this kind of clarifies what I meant by there being a lot of "road blocks and legal technicalities" to consider and try not to bury myself in face first, even if I may have worded that poorly. There's just really a lot of random details that I don't know if they're entirely legal, how pressing it would be to have in full control before even just trying it out, how to figure out what I need to know and how to manage it, what the possible legal repercussions could be if there would be any for me or just the client should I be caught, and a lot of "how am I supposed to solve this?" type of questions floating around in my head.
I did say I've gotten somewhere though, and by that I meant I figured out that it "should" work out if I would run it like a private business (with only me as boss+employee) and apply for a taxing system thingy called "F-kassa" and tax the business as something called "näringsverksamhet" although I barely understand it on a very basic surface level of fluff, but unfortunately it did look like it would mean I'd have to literally count out how much to tax off and where to pretty much manually, to which the phrase "complicated fucking hassle" would be a severe understatement. Oh, but I "should" also have the right to get pension/retirement and sickness leave pay (as well as parental leave pay but that's a redundant point for me) if I don't fuck it up with all this legal hassle, that is.
Something else I've also got a bit better understanding of is that "screening" clients doesn't seem to at all have to be very complicated (fucking finally running into something that doesn't look like a labyrinth in quicksand). It could just be as simple as doing an online search on them to see if something sketchy comes up or not. It can be much more extensive as well, but fact of the matter is it's gonna be risky to meet up with perfect strangers like that either way. I think I would go for a half-extensive-half-lazy method and then just be prepared for the risks and protect myself as well as I can. Also, do more extensive screening on the ones that might seem more iffy than those that don't seem like they could harm a fly even if they tried to. As I wouldn't have any issue being with really old and/or disabled men as well as younger and/or able-bodied. Call me judgemental but somehow I don't think an 80+ year old struggling to get around in a wheelchair would be that much of a threat to me, but an active 40-something year old definitely could much more likely be.
With all that said, I haven't even mentioned the additional question of what or when to tell the department/business that give me my current allowance. If they would in that kind of potential future find out I'm suddenly earning my own money they're gonna want their money back and stop giving me allowance at all. Which wouldn't be a problem for me if I'd be sure enough that I could get by with just whatever I'd be earning at that point and already decided I'd want to continue down that road, however if I'm still just trying it out to see if it could be for me in the long run but I'm hesitant or struggling with it, then it could be disastrous for me to lose my stable income. Then I'd pretty much probably be forced to continue with the sex work even if I can't actually manage it cause of maybe realising it was a huge mistake. This is probably the most important reason for me to be extremely careful. Best thing would be if I could get to have a "trial period" of a couple of months or so before making a final decision, but with such a sketchy field of work, I really doubt I could get something like that. It's not like I want to be a journalist or a chef. But also not as sketchy as a hitman or drug dealer, so... there are nuances.
I'm thinking of mentioning some of these random prostitution thoughts to my therapist whom I'll see again on Monday. Although not sure, I doubt it would be of concern with regards to my allowance to just talk to my therapist about being curious about trying something that can just very barely be called a "profession", cause I'm pretty sure she can't just spread around whatever I tell her however she wants to to other instances like that, without my consent, even if it would for some reason be considered important information for them to know. And I want to leave my parents out of this for as long as possible/until I'd actually start practicing it or am at least close to do so. I can just imagine my mother would be worried and my father would freak out about it (also worried though) and they just really, really wouldn't like it.
And I don't want to have that being up in the air like a toxic gas over our heads while I'm still trying to figure out how or if I can make this work practically. I think dealing with my parents' reactions would interfere negatively with my focus on those practical issues and set too much focus on the psychological issues and non-issues instead, as well as possibly create more issues. I have issues up to my nose already so I kinda don't need more, but that's life, I guess. Cause I can't even make it work out theoretically at this point. However I doubt my therapist could offer much practical help/guidance (not quite her expertise, I'm just gonna assume), but I think it could be helpful to at least just talk about my general thoughts and feelings around it as a whole. But of course I'd be nervous to and might have to plan my words a bit.
I think I would eventually maybe even need to talk to an economist about how to start this kind of business even remotely legally, if it would even be possible. There's so much I don't know how to possibly find solutions to, which is why I decided to start digging for answers or at least more questions already now despite not really planning on actually starting until after my SRS and having gotten my body into a prettier shape with far more stamina. Which will probably take at least a year from now, unless I'm really lucky and then I'd only give myself a few months to build muscle or so which would be a very minimal amount of time. But considering I need to wait at least 6 more months to just get stage one of SRS done, I'd say I'm more likely looking at a 1,5-2 years time span before I could realistically start looking into prostitution. It's really hard to give a good guesstimation though.
Anyhow, I could go on about this much longer now but then I'd most likely not manage to post it due to suddenly being too tired to proof read and edit, or how to finish it off in a not entirely haphazard way. So I'll stop here for now, but count on me adding more, similar posts later on as more thoughts and feelings come to me on this topic. So... to be continued.
I need to find out where I even could perform such activities legally, if the risk of getting evicted is really something I should be all that concerned with (cause I keep finding conflicting information on this) or if I'm gonna need to find a better solution to the issue of "location". I also need to know how I would receive payment and pay my taxes without going down for various economy crimes out of pure ignorance (struggling to find out whether or not it would be stupid to have such money on a regular bank account or if I could more safely use paypal (whether directly connected to my back card or somehow not) or I don't even know what), and if the best "info" I can find on those points is a comment thread on the number one Swedish website for fraudulent trolls who argue over the semantics of whether or not "selling sex isn't in the law-book so that means it's legal" actually means it's legal in practice is the best I can find I'm going to safely consider myself practically screwed. It is legal, but it's taboo, so no one is talking about it properly except anonymously in some obscure corners of the internet. How's that for an "education in preparation for a profession" huh? Not exactly college. Something like "Flashback: now offers highly unreliable education for possible future sex workers" sounds about right.
Oh sigh, what good did social taboos ever do for a society... But furthermore (oh of course there's more) I also need to know how to contact clients to be able to discuss stuff like payment, again preferably without legal repercussions. Yeah, it's probably gonna end up being a bit of a guessing game and having to settle with "preferring" to avoid legal repercussions... if that's the best I can do. But I don't know if just using my regular phone with its number directly tied to my real name would be "safe" because of it being illegal to buy sex and therefore a bad idea to have my real name connected to my means of contacting possible future clients. E-mail could work of course, but only relying on that might not be good enough, especially since not everyone has smartphones even though very many do nowadays. Some kind of phone number would probably be necessary no matter what, but I don't know what options there could be in terms of acquiring a SIM-card that's not connected to my legal name or personal identity number, for that matter. But also again, not sure just how important this is to consider either.
I hope this kind of clarifies what I meant by there being a lot of "road blocks and legal technicalities" to consider and try not to bury myself in face first, even if I may have worded that poorly. There's just really a lot of random details that I don't know if they're entirely legal, how pressing it would be to have in full control before even just trying it out, how to figure out what I need to know and how to manage it, what the possible legal repercussions could be if there would be any for me or just the client should I be caught, and a lot of "how am I supposed to solve this?" type of questions floating around in my head.
I did say I've gotten somewhere though, and by that I meant I figured out that it "should" work out if I would run it like a private business (with only me as boss+employee) and apply for a taxing system thingy called "F-kassa" and tax the business as something called "näringsverksamhet" although I barely understand it on a very basic surface level of fluff, but unfortunately it did look like it would mean I'd have to literally count out how much to tax off and where to pretty much manually, to which the phrase "complicated fucking hassle" would be a severe understatement. Oh, but I "should" also have the right to get pension/retirement and sickness leave pay (as well as parental leave pay but that's a redundant point for me) if I don't fuck it up with all this legal hassle, that is.
Something else I've also got a bit better understanding of is that "screening" clients doesn't seem to at all have to be very complicated (fucking finally running into something that doesn't look like a labyrinth in quicksand). It could just be as simple as doing an online search on them to see if something sketchy comes up or not. It can be much more extensive as well, but fact of the matter is it's gonna be risky to meet up with perfect strangers like that either way. I think I would go for a half-extensive-half-lazy method and then just be prepared for the risks and protect myself as well as I can. Also, do more extensive screening on the ones that might seem more iffy than those that don't seem like they could harm a fly even if they tried to. As I wouldn't have any issue being with really old and/or disabled men as well as younger and/or able-bodied. Call me judgemental but somehow I don't think an 80+ year old struggling to get around in a wheelchair would be that much of a threat to me, but an active 40-something year old definitely could much more likely be.
With all that said, I haven't even mentioned the additional question of what or when to tell the department/business that give me my current allowance. If they would in that kind of potential future find out I'm suddenly earning my own money they're gonna want their money back and stop giving me allowance at all. Which wouldn't be a problem for me if I'd be sure enough that I could get by with just whatever I'd be earning at that point and already decided I'd want to continue down that road, however if I'm still just trying it out to see if it could be for me in the long run but I'm hesitant or struggling with it, then it could be disastrous for me to lose my stable income. Then I'd pretty much probably be forced to continue with the sex work even if I can't actually manage it cause of maybe realising it was a huge mistake. This is probably the most important reason for me to be extremely careful. Best thing would be if I could get to have a "trial period" of a couple of months or so before making a final decision, but with such a sketchy field of work, I really doubt I could get something like that. It's not like I want to be a journalist or a chef. But also not as sketchy as a hitman or drug dealer, so... there are nuances.
I'm thinking of mentioning some of these random prostitution thoughts to my therapist whom I'll see again on Monday. Although not sure, I doubt it would be of concern with regards to my allowance to just talk to my therapist about being curious about trying something that can just very barely be called a "profession", cause I'm pretty sure she can't just spread around whatever I tell her however she wants to to other instances like that, without my consent, even if it would for some reason be considered important information for them to know. And I want to leave my parents out of this for as long as possible/until I'd actually start practicing it or am at least close to do so. I can just imagine my mother would be worried and my father would freak out about it (also worried though) and they just really, really wouldn't like it.
And I don't want to have that being up in the air like a toxic gas over our heads while I'm still trying to figure out how or if I can make this work practically. I think dealing with my parents' reactions would interfere negatively with my focus on those practical issues and set too much focus on the psychological issues and non-issues instead, as well as possibly create more issues. I have issues up to my nose already so I kinda don't need more, but that's life, I guess. Cause I can't even make it work out theoretically at this point. However I doubt my therapist could offer much practical help/guidance (not quite her expertise, I'm just gonna assume), but I think it could be helpful to at least just talk about my general thoughts and feelings around it as a whole. But of course I'd be nervous to and might have to plan my words a bit.
I think I would eventually maybe even need to talk to an economist about how to start this kind of business even remotely legally, if it would even be possible. There's so much I don't know how to possibly find solutions to, which is why I decided to start digging for answers or at least more questions already now despite not really planning on actually starting until after my SRS and having gotten my body into a prettier shape with far more stamina. Which will probably take at least a year from now, unless I'm really lucky and then I'd only give myself a few months to build muscle or so which would be a very minimal amount of time. But considering I need to wait at least 6 more months to just get stage one of SRS done, I'd say I'm more likely looking at a 1,5-2 years time span before I could realistically start looking into prostitution. It's really hard to give a good guesstimation though.
Anyhow, I could go on about this much longer now but then I'd most likely not manage to post it due to suddenly being too tired to proof read and edit, or how to finish it off in a not entirely haphazard way. So I'll stop here for now, but count on me adding more, similar posts later on as more thoughts and feelings come to me on this topic. So... to be continued.
Wednesday, 24 January 2018
Original sin
Jesus fuck. Just clicked on a random porn blog on tumblr and unexpectedly it was full of pictures of worryingly young boys in overtly sexual poses and nude. Some looked like they hadn't even reached puberty. That can't be entirely legal. I clicked it away in panic almost instantly (I did keep scrolling for a few seconds before I panicked) and cleared my browser history. My heart rate went up a bit. Don't ever want to be caught having seen that. That was not just suspicious and I have no idea how tumblr hasn't deleted/reported it, but I'm more concerned about saving my own skin than whatever tumblr is overlooking or just not yet gotten aware of.
Thanks for the reminder of that dark corner of my brain though, tumblr. Not like I had enough darkness to reflect on today already, right? How illegal am I really? Well, I'm somewhere just on the brink between "decent citizen" and "dangerous criminal" whatever that actually means. But something along the lines of I just don't know if my past behaviours could put me in prison or on a sex offender register or not. But the scary thing is that it's possible. It was so long ago now, and I was too young for prison had I been caught. And I never did anything such again. Well, nothing even remotely as morally fucked up, at least.
The feelings spawned years after, so I actually have never acted upon them, technically. And you know people like to get "technical" when they know they've done something bad but want to make it "look better" by focusing on the devil in the details. I know a monster in a dress is still a monster, but I also know that sometimes details do matter. Cause it's different doing a horrible thing out of passion and lust that was planned, compared to doing the same thing out of pain and desperation and not knowing what the fuck you were up to cause you lost control. I did the crime before I got the urges, cause it wasn't for that reason and I believe that the reason matters. The motive matters. The reasons I did it was because I was messed up, scared, mentally scarred and heavily dissociating from having been abused myself few months earlier in my childhood. The trauma and keeping silent about it fucked me up so to the point I went and traumatised someone else in pretty much the same manner. I took no pleasue from it what so ever. Nor do I now in retrospect. All I remember is a massive heap of negative emotions. But with that said, I think the reason I eventually started getting those kind of feelings, the ones I in my mind often tend to call "forbidden feelings", were because of what happened - and not the other way around.
It really does always feel like I'm committing a "thought-crime" like described in the novel 1984, by George Orwell, simply by just having those feelings that I have literally no way of getting rid of. Believe me, I've tried. I think it's the strongest taboo in today's society, and for good reasons, don't get wrong, but it's a god damn disastrous mindfuck to keep being told my feelings alone are practically illegal to have and make me a monster by default, even though I have never actually acted upon them, never will and don't even want to. Original sin, much? Well, it weighs heavy on my mind, and I wish I could at least speak about how horribly it affects me, how it makes me feel like a rat trapped in a maze with nowhere to run, damned if you do and damned if you don't and still damned even if you never did. But of course, it was the deciding reason why I ultimately chose to never have children. And now you know. That alone should tell you I have a heart - that I'm freely giving up my ability to have children mainly cause of my fear of ending up hurting any child I could have had in any kind of future. I'm saving the god damn brat from myself by never even bringing it to the world to begin with. My genetics end here, and who's gonna take care of me when/if I get old will probably be the state.
And so that is the ultimate reason as to why I've often vaguely said I don't think I'd be a good parent without daring to actually say why. It's obviously not certain that I would be abusive, but fact still remains I am a pedophile, and the risk is too great to take that chance even though that risk is minimal. I can take caution when it comes to other people's kids and keep a safe distance, but if it was my own child the risk is massively increased enough for me to not be able to fully trust myself. The world needs for fewer people to become victims, not to satisfy selfish people to become parents if they know they're unfit for it, and staying permanently child-free is a sacrifice I'm no longer fighting through tears to make. But my god it certainly has been.
It's not everything, there are more joys and meaningful things in life, and I'll gladly aim for and embrace those things instead. Despite what so many people say (especially those with the same female type of reproduction system as I have), parenthood doesn't have to be the end goal or ultimate happiness. Does it still sting? Not really, but knowing that it has before is a faintly painful reminder. However, that is also why I'm trying to be prepared for possibly having a slight emotional twist soon after my hysto. Cause then the decision is for real and permanent. But I also think it will come as a relief, to never having to worry about my random whims of wanting a kid taking over my sanity again. That it will help bring me to a place of security, in a way. Help me focus on other meaningful things instead. Just not immediately. Cause at this point I know I don't really want kids, but I also know that despite that, the knowing of not being able to allow myself to have kids while having wanted it in the past, is still an aspect I have fought through and those emotions could re-surface again, and they quite likely will, as a brief after-shock before stabilising again.
Why do I suddenly share this? Because it isn't actually illegal to just have those feelings, and I think that anyone who knows me and reads this and gets worried could be mature and adult enough to at least discuss it with me before deciding to throw me out of their lives. At least those who actually do care about me. I wouldn't harm your kid/-s if you have one/some, no matter what fucked up shit is going on in my mind cause I make sure it stays in there, but I would also never allow for you to leave me alone with your or anyone else's kid. Just in case cause I'm that protective and wanting to make 100% sure the kid is safe. If not else I'm fucking weird around kids cause of my conflicting feelings and despite knowing I wouldn't do anything, I also can't bloody act like a normal person either. I mean "weird" in the sense that I'm very withdrawn, silent, extremely overly careful and scared to get close (in an okay way) if there are no other adults around watching over the kid. I feel much more secure when other adults are around, even if just in the distance, but I'm still awkward. It's a cognitive dissonance that too.
I don't really think about it often. Usually only get reminded when I stumble upon videos orposts online about "bashing pedophiles" or the like, or if I'm watching a regular movie (like "The Dressmaker") and all of a sudden a random child character gets me excited. I hide it well if I'm in public like at a cinema, but I can't calm down my racing heart and mind. Or if it's a kid in real life and I just take a hike in the other direction. It's one of those things I keep locked up inside my mind, but it's a tricky business cause if I try to bury it in there I'm afraid it would eventually explode. Cause buried feelings tend to act like boiling milk. Eventually it's gonna cover your entire kitchen in hot milk if you're not careful and you don't want to stand in that then.
Whenever I talk about in online, like on youtube or wherever, I never talk about my own situation and it's difficult for me to stay 100% objective yet get my opinions across. I don't support abuse, especially not when it comes to kids, kids can't consent and no adult should be sexual with them at all, child abusers should be kept very far away from kids, it should never be excused is never justified and I if anyone should know that from my first hand experience - but I don't agree with society's way of handling those who are non-offenders but just happen to have those feelings that they don't act upon. In many countries (possibly also Sweden) you can get jailed for just expressing you feel that way despite being proven innocent, and my very strong opinion on that is "wtf is wrong with you people throwing innocent people in prison" cause that's just abhorrent.
It prevents us from daring to speak to a therapist about it so that we can get help to manage it and keep being non-offenders. Cause the entire reason and goal to bring it up with a therapist is to get help to avoid prison, not as a shortcut to get into prison for "wrong think". It forces many to hide in the dark until their emotions eventually do boil over and they become offenders, basically frightened into a corner until they can't contain it anymore. Great job, society. Way to go to prevent more crimes. Cause by the looks of it, you're fucking creating criminals. As I think it's some form of mental disorder/symptom or possibly personality trait and not a choice, I think therapy should be offered, especially to the non-offenders who want to stay that way, without throwing them in prison, but also offer therapy for offenders if they're not too far gone. Who should or shouldn't get therapy I don't have the expertise to decide, but I'd say as many as possible. We're people too and not inherently evil, and I think most people have forgotten that. And I want to bring light to that. It doesn't make you a monster, it doesn't make you an un-redeemable piece of shit. You can be a wonderful person with the warmest heart and brightest mind. Cause the worst thing about you doesn't define who you are. You're mixed bag of various traits, and only together do they make up who you are.
And just cause the thought hit me out of nowhere: would I consider dating another pedophile? Well duh, yes of course I would. As long as I like him for who he actually is and we'd get along together, whoever else he may or may not feel attraction towards regardless of age doesn't matter. Attraction in and of itself is completely harmless.
I saw an amazing video on youtube by Teal Swan, over a year ago now, in which she explained her opinion on this rather sensitive matter, and hearing it just made me fucking cry my eyes out. Never had I ever heard anyone speak with such compassion towards people like me in that regard, without advocating for the atrocities of child abuse. There is a middle ground, between accepting child abuse and shunning the very existence of the feeling itself. And I take that middle ground, and I wish more people would.
I'm not sure what I want to have said with this, or if I'll even feel safe enough to post it. But if I do, I just want to add this: I may not be able to choose what feelings I have, but I am perfectly able to choose to not act upon them. The burden is knowing how wrong they are, and the fear of the wrong people finding out about me having them. For just this once I think having a bit of cognitive dissonance is a damn good thing and shows that I'me not just an impulsive animal who acts on every whim I get.
So how do I plan to manage this monster in my mind? Pretty much as I already do, but I would like to be slightly more open about simply talking about it, if or when possible. I'm tired of suffocating in various silences, and this has definitely been a big one, if not the biggest and most suffocating one. I'm just gonna assume that you can figure out why. But how I've been managing it so far and how I'll continue: By not being alone around kids, never linger around schools or playgrounds at least if there are kids around. Try not to be so awkward but I guess that's a fairly small price to pay for my carefulness. To never act upon any possibly re-curring wishes to have a child of my own whether via adoption or what else. Don't date people who already have kids (unless their kids are adults). Be careful about what I say online about it, even if anonymous cause IP-adresses are still a thing. Stay the fuck away from anything even remotely child porn like online or otherwise. Never draw it either. Never write such stories in detail. Never baby sit someone's kid. There are probably more such things I keep in my mind subconsciously, but I think that's a comprehensive enough list to give you an idea.
Oh I never said my life was easy, huh? Of course I wish I didn't have those feelings, just to be clear, but wishing them away has never worked so far and at this point I accept my reality for what it is. I started getting those feelings when I was around 11-12 years old and got the hots for 7 years old Daniel Radcliffe (the guy who plays Harry Potter in the movies) in another movie he starred in before J.K. Rowling's filmatised books. I think it was a verson of Oliver Twist, or something. I didn't think it was weird that I liked him as Harry Potter at the time of the first movie, cause we were the same age then, but a little weird that I found him attractive as a 7 year old as well, even though I was very young too. Then I just kept getting attracted to other kids here and there from then on, and later started fantasising as well. And I still do. When I did abuse that other kid I was 9 as I've said many times before, so it was at least 2 years prior to those feelings awakening. Before I would get feelings for people my own age or significantly older, but it was never sexual thoughts until after that shit happened. I can't make myself go into more detail about this entire thing more than what I just have, and somehow I don't think you'd want to hear about it either, cause it's kinda niché. Make what you want of it.
("Original sin" is a philosophical term to describe when someone or an entire group/society deems a specific type of people as unredeemably "bad people" because of any trait they have no control over and/or can't change. They often prosecute the ones they deem as unredeemable. The term comes from the biblical "original sin" of Eve biting the apple and giving it to Adam, which "damned" the entirety of mankind so now every living human being carries this "sin" without being able to do anything about it, but still have to own up to it by kissing God's ass. I thought the term was fitting for this topic as well.)
Thanks for the reminder of that dark corner of my brain though, tumblr. Not like I had enough darkness to reflect on today already, right? How illegal am I really? Well, I'm somewhere just on the brink between "decent citizen" and "dangerous criminal" whatever that actually means. But something along the lines of I just don't know if my past behaviours could put me in prison or on a sex offender register or not. But the scary thing is that it's possible. It was so long ago now, and I was too young for prison had I been caught. And I never did anything such again. Well, nothing even remotely as morally fucked up, at least.
The feelings spawned years after, so I actually have never acted upon them, technically. And you know people like to get "technical" when they know they've done something bad but want to make it "look better" by focusing on the devil in the details. I know a monster in a dress is still a monster, but I also know that sometimes details do matter. Cause it's different doing a horrible thing out of passion and lust that was planned, compared to doing the same thing out of pain and desperation and not knowing what the fuck you were up to cause you lost control. I did the crime before I got the urges, cause it wasn't for that reason and I believe that the reason matters. The motive matters. The reasons I did it was because I was messed up, scared, mentally scarred and heavily dissociating from having been abused myself few months earlier in my childhood. The trauma and keeping silent about it fucked me up so to the point I went and traumatised someone else in pretty much the same manner. I took no pleasue from it what so ever. Nor do I now in retrospect. All I remember is a massive heap of negative emotions. But with that said, I think the reason I eventually started getting those kind of feelings, the ones I in my mind often tend to call "forbidden feelings", were because of what happened - and not the other way around.
It really does always feel like I'm committing a "thought-crime" like described in the novel 1984, by George Orwell, simply by just having those feelings that I have literally no way of getting rid of. Believe me, I've tried. I think it's the strongest taboo in today's society, and for good reasons, don't get wrong, but it's a god damn disastrous mindfuck to keep being told my feelings alone are practically illegal to have and make me a monster by default, even though I have never actually acted upon them, never will and don't even want to. Original sin, much? Well, it weighs heavy on my mind, and I wish I could at least speak about how horribly it affects me, how it makes me feel like a rat trapped in a maze with nowhere to run, damned if you do and damned if you don't and still damned even if you never did. But of course, it was the deciding reason why I ultimately chose to never have children. And now you know. That alone should tell you I have a heart - that I'm freely giving up my ability to have children mainly cause of my fear of ending up hurting any child I could have had in any kind of future. I'm saving the god damn brat from myself by never even bringing it to the world to begin with. My genetics end here, and who's gonna take care of me when/if I get old will probably be the state.
And so that is the ultimate reason as to why I've often vaguely said I don't think I'd be a good parent without daring to actually say why. It's obviously not certain that I would be abusive, but fact still remains I am a pedophile, and the risk is too great to take that chance even though that risk is minimal. I can take caution when it comes to other people's kids and keep a safe distance, but if it was my own child the risk is massively increased enough for me to not be able to fully trust myself. The world needs for fewer people to become victims, not to satisfy selfish people to become parents if they know they're unfit for it, and staying permanently child-free is a sacrifice I'm no longer fighting through tears to make. But my god it certainly has been.
It's not everything, there are more joys and meaningful things in life, and I'll gladly aim for and embrace those things instead. Despite what so many people say (especially those with the same female type of reproduction system as I have), parenthood doesn't have to be the end goal or ultimate happiness. Does it still sting? Not really, but knowing that it has before is a faintly painful reminder. However, that is also why I'm trying to be prepared for possibly having a slight emotional twist soon after my hysto. Cause then the decision is for real and permanent. But I also think it will come as a relief, to never having to worry about my random whims of wanting a kid taking over my sanity again. That it will help bring me to a place of security, in a way. Help me focus on other meaningful things instead. Just not immediately. Cause at this point I know I don't really want kids, but I also know that despite that, the knowing of not being able to allow myself to have kids while having wanted it in the past, is still an aspect I have fought through and those emotions could re-surface again, and they quite likely will, as a brief after-shock before stabilising again.
Why do I suddenly share this? Because it isn't actually illegal to just have those feelings, and I think that anyone who knows me and reads this and gets worried could be mature and adult enough to at least discuss it with me before deciding to throw me out of their lives. At least those who actually do care about me. I wouldn't harm your kid/-s if you have one/some, no matter what fucked up shit is going on in my mind cause I make sure it stays in there, but I would also never allow for you to leave me alone with your or anyone else's kid. Just in case cause I'm that protective and wanting to make 100% sure the kid is safe. If not else I'm fucking weird around kids cause of my conflicting feelings and despite knowing I wouldn't do anything, I also can't bloody act like a normal person either. I mean "weird" in the sense that I'm very withdrawn, silent, extremely overly careful and scared to get close (in an okay way) if there are no other adults around watching over the kid. I feel much more secure when other adults are around, even if just in the distance, but I'm still awkward. It's a cognitive dissonance that too.
I don't really think about it often. Usually only get reminded when I stumble upon videos orposts online about "bashing pedophiles" or the like, or if I'm watching a regular movie (like "The Dressmaker") and all of a sudden a random child character gets me excited. I hide it well if I'm in public like at a cinema, but I can't calm down my racing heart and mind. Or if it's a kid in real life and I just take a hike in the other direction. It's one of those things I keep locked up inside my mind, but it's a tricky business cause if I try to bury it in there I'm afraid it would eventually explode. Cause buried feelings tend to act like boiling milk. Eventually it's gonna cover your entire kitchen in hot milk if you're not careful and you don't want to stand in that then.
Whenever I talk about in online, like on youtube or wherever, I never talk about my own situation and it's difficult for me to stay 100% objective yet get my opinions across. I don't support abuse, especially not when it comes to kids, kids can't consent and no adult should be sexual with them at all, child abusers should be kept very far away from kids, it should never be excused is never justified and I if anyone should know that from my first hand experience - but I don't agree with society's way of handling those who are non-offenders but just happen to have those feelings that they don't act upon. In many countries (possibly also Sweden) you can get jailed for just expressing you feel that way despite being proven innocent, and my very strong opinion on that is "wtf is wrong with you people throwing innocent people in prison" cause that's just abhorrent.
It prevents us from daring to speak to a therapist about it so that we can get help to manage it and keep being non-offenders. Cause the entire reason and goal to bring it up with a therapist is to get help to avoid prison, not as a shortcut to get into prison for "wrong think". It forces many to hide in the dark until their emotions eventually do boil over and they become offenders, basically frightened into a corner until they can't contain it anymore. Great job, society. Way to go to prevent more crimes. Cause by the looks of it, you're fucking creating criminals. As I think it's some form of mental disorder/symptom or possibly personality trait and not a choice, I think therapy should be offered, especially to the non-offenders who want to stay that way, without throwing them in prison, but also offer therapy for offenders if they're not too far gone. Who should or shouldn't get therapy I don't have the expertise to decide, but I'd say as many as possible. We're people too and not inherently evil, and I think most people have forgotten that. And I want to bring light to that. It doesn't make you a monster, it doesn't make you an un-redeemable piece of shit. You can be a wonderful person with the warmest heart and brightest mind. Cause the worst thing about you doesn't define who you are. You're mixed bag of various traits, and only together do they make up who you are.
And just cause the thought hit me out of nowhere: would I consider dating another pedophile? Well duh, yes of course I would. As long as I like him for who he actually is and we'd get along together, whoever else he may or may not feel attraction towards regardless of age doesn't matter. Attraction in and of itself is completely harmless.
I saw an amazing video on youtube by Teal Swan, over a year ago now, in which she explained her opinion on this rather sensitive matter, and hearing it just made me fucking cry my eyes out. Never had I ever heard anyone speak with such compassion towards people like me in that regard, without advocating for the atrocities of child abuse. There is a middle ground, between accepting child abuse and shunning the very existence of the feeling itself. And I take that middle ground, and I wish more people would.
I'm not sure what I want to have said with this, or if I'll even feel safe enough to post it. But if I do, I just want to add this: I may not be able to choose what feelings I have, but I am perfectly able to choose to not act upon them. The burden is knowing how wrong they are, and the fear of the wrong people finding out about me having them. For just this once I think having a bit of cognitive dissonance is a damn good thing and shows that I'me not just an impulsive animal who acts on every whim I get.
So how do I plan to manage this monster in my mind? Pretty much as I already do, but I would like to be slightly more open about simply talking about it, if or when possible. I'm tired of suffocating in various silences, and this has definitely been a big one, if not the biggest and most suffocating one. I'm just gonna assume that you can figure out why. But how I've been managing it so far and how I'll continue: By not being alone around kids, never linger around schools or playgrounds at least if there are kids around. Try not to be so awkward but I guess that's a fairly small price to pay for my carefulness. To never act upon any possibly re-curring wishes to have a child of my own whether via adoption or what else. Don't date people who already have kids (unless their kids are adults). Be careful about what I say online about it, even if anonymous cause IP-adresses are still a thing. Stay the fuck away from anything even remotely child porn like online or otherwise. Never draw it either. Never write such stories in detail. Never baby sit someone's kid. There are probably more such things I keep in my mind subconsciously, but I think that's a comprehensive enough list to give you an idea.
Oh I never said my life was easy, huh? Of course I wish I didn't have those feelings, just to be clear, but wishing them away has never worked so far and at this point I accept my reality for what it is. I started getting those feelings when I was around 11-12 years old and got the hots for 7 years old Daniel Radcliffe (the guy who plays Harry Potter in the movies) in another movie he starred in before J.K. Rowling's filmatised books. I think it was a verson of Oliver Twist, or something. I didn't think it was weird that I liked him as Harry Potter at the time of the first movie, cause we were the same age then, but a little weird that I found him attractive as a 7 year old as well, even though I was very young too. Then I just kept getting attracted to other kids here and there from then on, and later started fantasising as well. And I still do. When I did abuse that other kid I was 9 as I've said many times before, so it was at least 2 years prior to those feelings awakening. Before I would get feelings for people my own age or significantly older, but it was never sexual thoughts until after that shit happened. I can't make myself go into more detail about this entire thing more than what I just have, and somehow I don't think you'd want to hear about it either, cause it's kinda niché. Make what you want of it.
("Original sin" is a philosophical term to describe when someone or an entire group/society deems a specific type of people as unredeemably "bad people" because of any trait they have no control over and/or can't change. They often prosecute the ones they deem as unredeemable. The term comes from the biblical "original sin" of Eve biting the apple and giving it to Adam, which "damned" the entirety of mankind so now every living human being carries this "sin" without being able to do anything about it, but still have to own up to it by kissing God's ass. I thought the term was fitting for this topic as well.)
Thursday, 4 January 2018
Dreams, reality and their limitations (SRS)
Another day, another year begins. I don't have a lot to say about that, other than that I want to write here more often than I find myself being able to. Not because of any actual dysfunction or mental health problems, but because of a lack of motivation and important/interesting/engaging enough topics to write about.
Anyhow, I just got a letter of verification of sorts, from the hospital ward I'll be having my metoidioplasty done in Linköping, saying that they've received the referral sent to them from Visby. However there might be some confusion going on on their part, cause it also says they're gonna book an appointment for me there soon, implying a consultation, which is weird cause I've already had a consultation with my surgeon to be there and we agreed/decided upon him doing that surgery on me. It was all clear.
But what I think is probably going is the reception/ward staff being confused about me just having been referred there and they didn't take notice of that I've already been referred there before, and that this second referral was due to the hassle between Gotland's district/region and Östergötland's district/region not being connected to each other. I've really been struggling with how to properly explain that mess in English in an understandable and consise way. But kiiind of something like this:
1. I was on consultation with surgeon Hannes Sigurjohnsson (who did my chest) in Stockholm last spring. I had been referred to him from the trans team (Anova) that I'm registered at for managing my gender transition, since 2013. Hannes then referred me to surgeon Gunnar Kratz in Linköping.
2. I was next on consultation with Gunnar in September last year. Everything went fine and he put me on his waiting list for surgery. Said it would take about 5 months.
3. Some weeks later, I got a letter from the hospital i Visby saying they denied me having surgery in Linköping because the region of Gotland didn't have a contract with the region of Linköping and that I should have surgery in Stockholm where there was a contract/connection instead.
4. I sent my mother to please help me out and she did. I really did want for Gunnar to do my meta and not Hannes cause he gave me a muuuch better over all impression. My mother called the guy who had written that letter denying me my much needed surgery to try to sort things out, after she had done some research on the beroucracy of the situation.
5. A week or so later it had been solved but I'm not entirely sure how. If they gave me a personal type of contract thing for this specifically or something. Either way, I was again allowed to have my surgery in Linköping, but the hospital in Visby needed to send a new referral to the hospital in Linköping, which apparently they've done now, by beginning of January.
6. I get this letter saying I've been accepted and they want to book an appointment with me. I sent my mother (again) to call them and check what's up with yet another meeting halfway across the country and is that really necessary before surgery that's already been decided between everyone involved?
7. profit...? (let's wait and see, huh. I'm not gonna start cheering just yet).
So... it's been a bit of a roller coaster. And then I didn't even count in the hassle I had to deal with before even getting to the point of having that first consultation last spring. It's taken literally a year from when I first called Anova to tell them I was interested in pursuing lower surgery, and it's still not entirely clear on what's gonna happen and when yet.
Good thing I actually have a bit more patience lately. No I mean it, I'm not constantly up in the air about it, or climbing the walls. Most of the time I'm calm, but I still sometimes burst into anger and frustration outbreaks cause I'm very eaily tipped over the edge whenever something annoys me. But when it comes to this lower surgery hassle, I know it in my heart that nothing can stop me cause I want and need it bad enough, and that I'm willing to wait however long it needs to take, cause I'll make it there in the end, one way or another. And also, being impatient has never helped me before.
I focus on staying as stable and well as I can without pushing it too far in that direction. That includes but is not limited to:
- trying to keep somewhat of a circadian rhythm
- drink as much water I can muster for hydration
- try to eat at least semi-healthy food/something nutritious every day no matter how small and not just pastries with a focus on fibres and protein
- taking my medication as continuously as possible for me
- keeping my home from turning into a toxic waste zone
- avoid stressing myself half to death with "work", household chores, socialising or hobbies
- not having too high demands on myself regardless of performance
- try not to get too drunk too often (I'm at a few drinks a month now)
- working on keeping my personal hygiene decent
- and keep seeing my therapist regularly.
And since I'm in some kind of celibacy now, safe sex isn't an issue as of now cause of simply not having sex (and there's no safer way than abstaining), but if I will later on I'll play it safe. Hopefully. I suck at that, I admit.
But in general, I'd say I'm doing pretty good and have been for the past year or so, except from a few occasions far apart, but nothing severe. It's as though I'm subconsciously self destructive even when actively I am not. That I just kind of end up in unhealthy habits without having made a conscious decision to do so. It's just out of habit or not thinking it through. But I'm drawn to self destruction like a moth is to flame, even when I feel more content than ever and don't actually wish to die or get harmed. Me and moths, we understand each other, apparently.
But I think what it's mostly about for me, is that there really isn't any fun in something unless there's at least a moderate degree of risk involved. That I just need that intensity to match whichever way my soul vibrates. Harmless and good things often clash with my wave lengths, just like purely dangerous and bad things clash as well. It needs to be a mix of both, or I'm either too bored to bother or it's too crazy to crave it. I think I'm searching for a sustainable high. A wave I can ride on infinitely and never get bored with or too overwhelmed by, as my idea of paradise on Earth is something like that. And even if there is no such thing, it still feels worthwhile to search for it, cause maybe then I can at least find the next best thing?
However, bottom surgery, or anything about my medical transition has never been about trying to achieve an impossible goal. Except maybe I had a tad too high expectations of testosterone, but I've more or less accepted that reality now. I'll tweak on it in other ways. But, still, cause with any surgeries I never have had high expectations. Some might say they're even too low, but I'm pretty sure they're just high enough to very likely prevent disappointment as long as it doesn't turn out disastrous, as well as avoiding acceptance of a possibly terrible outcome. And to me, that is the happy medium I should be at, expectation/demand -wise.
I don't need the best surgeon in the entire world with the most awesome and innovative technique, I just need someone who knows how to perform the general technique, and has experience enough to give a decent to pretty good result. Average, pretty much. I wouldn't care about a few flaws as long as they're not very disfiguring, long term painful, or hindering any important bodily function also long term. Because short term a lot can happen and that's common, and doesn't matter what might happen as long as it doesn't become an upsetting/dangerous long term issue. As long as it heals/sorts out eventually. But sure, I am still more picky about the outcome of my future dick than I ever was about my chest. Because I never used the exterior of my chest for anything other than carrying clothes on it prior to surgery and that hasn't changed much after either. Except now I like it instead of hating it. And I obviously use my crotch for more than just attaching clothes to it. That feels redundant to explain further.
So, my point is that for my chest surgery, my only goal was for aesthetics (treating dysphoria), but not function (bodily); but with my genital surgery the goal is for both treating dysphoria and retaining the bodily functions of that area. And the latter is more difficult, surgical skills wise.
Also, since I've been talking more with my mother about my choice and decision of lower surgery, and she was with me in the surgeon's office during my consultation in September when he explained both meta and phallo, and she also heard me clearly state that I wanted meta; she's told me several times that she thinks I made a good decision and that she thinks meta seems a lot better in many ways than phallo. This eases my mind, that she's got my back and supports my choice. And also that I've told her that there's a lower risk of getting complications with meta as well as it in general being easier on the body compared to phallo, is obviously things she likes to hear as well. So now I know a bit more what she's thinking about me having this surgery too.
But honestly, and I don't intend for this to sound shitty but it might anyway, I don't quite get why so many others seem to be so incredibly perfectionistic about procedures and choice of surgeon that they go out of their way and sometimes even out of their country and budget to get the best they possibly can. It seems overly stressful and unrealistic to me, although I can understand that settling for "decent" when it comes to such a sensitive area might not be everyone's cup of tea, but "perfect" is still a far (and arguably unobtainable) stretch from "decent" when you have both "good" and "really good" in between.
Or am I in the wrong, to settle comfortably for less than they do? I don't truly think so as we all have different limitations, but sometimes that thought passes through my mind. Because I also know that if I had the option to travel abroad and spend hundred thousands of kronor on the surgery alone, I probably would have, but I don't have that option and I'm fine with it, but I still get that vague thought passing me by sometimes. Perhaps just as a reminder of my limitations, and that no matter how good, there's always gonna be something even better somewhere else over yonder that is unobtainable for whatever reason. And I think thoughts like that are not there to make me aim higher, but to help me understand why I do not need to aim higher.
Anyhow, I just got a letter of verification of sorts, from the hospital ward I'll be having my metoidioplasty done in Linköping, saying that they've received the referral sent to them from Visby. However there might be some confusion going on on their part, cause it also says they're gonna book an appointment for me there soon, implying a consultation, which is weird cause I've already had a consultation with my surgeon to be there and we agreed/decided upon him doing that surgery on me. It was all clear.
But what I think is probably going is the reception/ward staff being confused about me just having been referred there and they didn't take notice of that I've already been referred there before, and that this second referral was due to the hassle between Gotland's district/region and Östergötland's district/region not being connected to each other. I've really been struggling with how to properly explain that mess in English in an understandable and consise way. But kiiind of something like this:
1. I was on consultation with surgeon Hannes Sigurjohnsson (who did my chest) in Stockholm last spring. I had been referred to him from the trans team (Anova) that I'm registered at for managing my gender transition, since 2013. Hannes then referred me to surgeon Gunnar Kratz in Linköping.
2. I was next on consultation with Gunnar in September last year. Everything went fine and he put me on his waiting list for surgery. Said it would take about 5 months.
3. Some weeks later, I got a letter from the hospital i Visby saying they denied me having surgery in Linköping because the region of Gotland didn't have a contract with the region of Linköping and that I should have surgery in Stockholm where there was a contract/connection instead.
4. I sent my mother to please help me out and she did. I really did want for Gunnar to do my meta and not Hannes cause he gave me a muuuch better over all impression. My mother called the guy who had written that letter denying me my much needed surgery to try to sort things out, after she had done some research on the beroucracy of the situation.
5. A week or so later it had been solved but I'm not entirely sure how. If they gave me a personal type of contract thing for this specifically or something. Either way, I was again allowed to have my surgery in Linköping, but the hospital in Visby needed to send a new referral to the hospital in Linköping, which apparently they've done now, by beginning of January.
6. I get this letter saying I've been accepted and they want to book an appointment with me. I sent my mother (again) to call them and check what's up with yet another meeting halfway across the country and is that really necessary before surgery that's already been decided between everyone involved?
7. profit...? (let's wait and see, huh. I'm not gonna start cheering just yet).
So... it's been a bit of a roller coaster. And then I didn't even count in the hassle I had to deal with before even getting to the point of having that first consultation last spring. It's taken literally a year from when I first called Anova to tell them I was interested in pursuing lower surgery, and it's still not entirely clear on what's gonna happen and when yet.
Good thing I actually have a bit more patience lately. No I mean it, I'm not constantly up in the air about it, or climbing the walls. Most of the time I'm calm, but I still sometimes burst into anger and frustration outbreaks cause I'm very eaily tipped over the edge whenever something annoys me. But when it comes to this lower surgery hassle, I know it in my heart that nothing can stop me cause I want and need it bad enough, and that I'm willing to wait however long it needs to take, cause I'll make it there in the end, one way or another. And also, being impatient has never helped me before.
I focus on staying as stable and well as I can without pushing it too far in that direction. That includes but is not limited to:
- trying to keep somewhat of a circadian rhythm
- drink as much water I can muster for hydration
- try to eat at least semi-healthy food/something nutritious every day no matter how small and not just pastries with a focus on fibres and protein
- taking my medication as continuously as possible for me
- keeping my home from turning into a toxic waste zone
- avoid stressing myself half to death with "work", household chores, socialising or hobbies
- not having too high demands on myself regardless of performance
- try not to get too drunk too often (I'm at a few drinks a month now)
- working on keeping my personal hygiene decent
- and keep seeing my therapist regularly.
And since I'm in some kind of celibacy now, safe sex isn't an issue as of now cause of simply not having sex (and there's no safer way than abstaining), but if I will later on I'll play it safe. Hopefully. I suck at that, I admit.
But in general, I'd say I'm doing pretty good and have been for the past year or so, except from a few occasions far apart, but nothing severe. It's as though I'm subconsciously self destructive even when actively I am not. That I just kind of end up in unhealthy habits without having made a conscious decision to do so. It's just out of habit or not thinking it through. But I'm drawn to self destruction like a moth is to flame, even when I feel more content than ever and don't actually wish to die or get harmed. Me and moths, we understand each other, apparently.
But I think what it's mostly about for me, is that there really isn't any fun in something unless there's at least a moderate degree of risk involved. That I just need that intensity to match whichever way my soul vibrates. Harmless and good things often clash with my wave lengths, just like purely dangerous and bad things clash as well. It needs to be a mix of both, or I'm either too bored to bother or it's too crazy to crave it. I think I'm searching for a sustainable high. A wave I can ride on infinitely and never get bored with or too overwhelmed by, as my idea of paradise on Earth is something like that. And even if there is no such thing, it still feels worthwhile to search for it, cause maybe then I can at least find the next best thing?
However, bottom surgery, or anything about my medical transition has never been about trying to achieve an impossible goal. Except maybe I had a tad too high expectations of testosterone, but I've more or less accepted that reality now. I'll tweak on it in other ways. But, still, cause with any surgeries I never have had high expectations. Some might say they're even too low, but I'm pretty sure they're just high enough to very likely prevent disappointment as long as it doesn't turn out disastrous, as well as avoiding acceptance of a possibly terrible outcome. And to me, that is the happy medium I should be at, expectation/demand -wise.
I don't need the best surgeon in the entire world with the most awesome and innovative technique, I just need someone who knows how to perform the general technique, and has experience enough to give a decent to pretty good result. Average, pretty much. I wouldn't care about a few flaws as long as they're not very disfiguring, long term painful, or hindering any important bodily function also long term. Because short term a lot can happen and that's common, and doesn't matter what might happen as long as it doesn't become an upsetting/dangerous long term issue. As long as it heals/sorts out eventually. But sure, I am still more picky about the outcome of my future dick than I ever was about my chest. Because I never used the exterior of my chest for anything other than carrying clothes on it prior to surgery and that hasn't changed much after either. Except now I like it instead of hating it. And I obviously use my crotch for more than just attaching clothes to it. That feels redundant to explain further.
So, my point is that for my chest surgery, my only goal was for aesthetics (treating dysphoria), but not function (bodily); but with my genital surgery the goal is for both treating dysphoria and retaining the bodily functions of that area. And the latter is more difficult, surgical skills wise.
Also, since I've been talking more with my mother about my choice and decision of lower surgery, and she was with me in the surgeon's office during my consultation in September when he explained both meta and phallo, and she also heard me clearly state that I wanted meta; she's told me several times that she thinks I made a good decision and that she thinks meta seems a lot better in many ways than phallo. This eases my mind, that she's got my back and supports my choice. And also that I've told her that there's a lower risk of getting complications with meta as well as it in general being easier on the body compared to phallo, is obviously things she likes to hear as well. So now I know a bit more what she's thinking about me having this surgery too.
But honestly, and I don't intend for this to sound shitty but it might anyway, I don't quite get why so many others seem to be so incredibly perfectionistic about procedures and choice of surgeon that they go out of their way and sometimes even out of their country and budget to get the best they possibly can. It seems overly stressful and unrealistic to me, although I can understand that settling for "decent" when it comes to such a sensitive area might not be everyone's cup of tea, but "perfect" is still a far (and arguably unobtainable) stretch from "decent" when you have both "good" and "really good" in between.
Or am I in the wrong, to settle comfortably for less than they do? I don't truly think so as we all have different limitations, but sometimes that thought passes through my mind. Because I also know that if I had the option to travel abroad and spend hundred thousands of kronor on the surgery alone, I probably would have, but I don't have that option and I'm fine with it, but I still get that vague thought passing me by sometimes. Perhaps just as a reminder of my limitations, and that no matter how good, there's always gonna be something even better somewhere else over yonder that is unobtainable for whatever reason. And I think thoughts like that are not there to make me aim higher, but to help me understand why I do not need to aim higher.
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