Bargain

A part of me now believes that I sold my soul to the devil for a nice body and luck in love. The down side would be that I will only live for a few more years, and then I will inevitably kill myself. I accepted that (though it took some time), but it wasn't until recently that I added one plus one, so to say.

Things have gone remarkably well lately, and always when I pray to Satan he fulfils my wishes. But to what price? That's why I didn't understand it before. When I signed that contract in my own blood, things started to change.

Have I not watched Ghost Rider?! Yes, I have and a gazillion other movies that depicts just how much of a bad idea it is to sign contracts with your own blood. Stupid fuck!

I don't know what will happen after I die because of this, but I think I only sold a part of my soul, not the entire kit. I don't even carry around all of my soul. Some of it is somewhere else, and incommunicado, you know.

I couldn't just let myself get ravaged by misery until I break and kill myself because my whole life just became a horrible mistake. I'd rather be satisfied for just two years and then kill myself because I know that my time is up. Leave this world feeling that at least I had something in the end. It's worth it, damn it's worth it.

I realise that for the bargain to work I still have to pray and work my ass off to achieve what I want for the rest of my life. Then what's the point? You might ask. The point is that I will be able to reach my goals without failing. It won't be and it isn't a fairytale magic thing. Satan can't make my scars after the surgery to heal miraculously over night, for example, but what he can do is to make sure that it heals well and without complications. (If that doesn't happen we're gonna have a little chat)

The bargain is about changing two major parts of my life for the better. The trans related stuff, and mostly my dysphoria. My body, in simplicity. Then it's also about my love, K, and my feelings for him. And that's why I still get depressions, nightmares, phobias, sleep- and eating problems and such. Cause that isn't a part of the bargain.

It is much, since my life literally depends on those two things. I can get by with bad habits (especially since I'm not gonna live so much longer) and most of my problems can be helped or fixed with medication and psychotherapy. But my dysphoria, and my fucked up heart... that I really needed some help with.

But of course this could all also be a delusion. It's not normal to believe that you sold your soul to the devil...

The waiting is over, soon

Still spending most of my time living in Azeroth, (my second home, haha) and today I finally reached revered reputation with the faction "The Order of the Cloud Serpent" and purchased the recipe for the Sapphire Panther for 150 gold. So now it's just the fun things left... farming for gold and materials. Maybe I'll head off to Northrend for a little while, and continue to make gems to sell at the auction house.

I'm writing a specific journal or what to call it for everything I accomplish in WoW now, starting from the 22nd this month. It's nice to see the progress.

I still haven't decided if I'm gonna take that surgery appointment the 4th, but it's leaning to a yes. My instincts say I should, but my logical mind says I shouldn't. Which to trust? Of course I should trust my instincts, they are always right. Always.

I've decided, I'm going. I just knew it in my heart that it's gonna happen in early February, I knew it from the beginning. Everything is gonna be alright, I just know it.

I just gonna call the hospital as soon as they are available to ask who that surgeon is now again, and then I'm gonna tell them that I accept their offer. Writing down a few questions that I need to ask. Damn, this is exciting! I don't worry all that much to be honest. Something just tells me it's gonna be fine, and I trust that feeling.

Those magic like feelings still appear all the time, and they are so real it's impossible not to believe. It's something in my gut, it is THE gut feeling that has just miraculously grown immense and it's almost constantly there. Whether it's about WoW, my lighter, what I'm gonna write on Tumblr, or huge events in my life like this surgery.

I've never had surgery before, never been sick. And now when I come to think of it, I haven't been cutting for a week or so, so I'm all healed up from the last time. This will be quite an experience, I can assure you. Wow, I'm a bit sweaty and nervous already. I don't think a shower will solve that problem, I think I'll be nervous for a whole week now. A good kind of nervous, filled with excitement and expectation. A glimpse of a dream come true.

I know I shouldn't jump into conclusions with too high expectations, but of course I still have some expectations, it's hard not to. Just lower them a nudge. I might need more surgeries after (that gut feeling of mine tells me it will be two altogether), or there might be complications. What do I know.

There is much that I don't know, but there are some things I just know without being able to know, you know? Sorry, that sentence was just too fun to change. Anyway, need to relax a little now as I wait for the secretary or whoever at the hospital to become available. I have about an hour.

What we live on

I have never heard of the English word "agape" before. Apparently it's some form of love. I find it a beautiful word. Think I'll keep it. I have collected quite a few words now that I find extra appealing. Some are ordinary while others are not: sovereign, downtrodden, fanciful, hindsight, seep, sift, solace, insipid, disdain, whimsical, livid, sobriety, murmuring, reminiscent, limerence, tarnished, delirium, gash, laceration, suicide, mere, linger, gloom, wolfs-bane, slender, lithe, ardour and now agape.

I think I'm just trying to convince myself that I'm not just wasting time, that I actually do live a little. That it's not just "nothing" that I'm doing in my timeless loneliness. Time is all I have. I have 24 hours every day to find something I want to do and do it. There's no pressure, no deadlines, no demands but my own.

Well, I am sort of retired, and you know how most old people who's stopped working spend their days. They too have all the time in the world to just do whatever they find is meaningful to them. Of course, it's never literally "all the time in the world". Retired elders might not have a long time ahead of them because of their age, and I don't have all the time because I'm a mess with an expiration date.

Many people seem to think I want to have a job like everyone else, but the truth is that I don't. I'm not saying I wanna live on social welfare for the rest of my life, I'm just saying that the expected way of living is kinda repulsive to me. I'm a rebel, not because I want to, but because there is no other way.

It could be nice to have a part time job, something simple and creative without a lot of pressure on me, while still getting paid for all the time that I don't work. Like part time retired and part time working, if you get what I mean. But the thing is that I'm very, very picky about what kind of work I could do. First of all, all the service professions are out of the question. So are dirty jobs like cleaning or construction.

And then there's that it's not so much that I can handle mentally. When I get put into pressure, however small or little, my mind goes into overdrive and basically all of my mental problems exceed beyond reason.

Worst is the combination of extreme headache, panic attacks, dissociation, delusions and voices talking so loud that I can't hear what anyone else says. You wouldn't want me at a "normal" workplace. I get severe stress symptoms close to psychosis in a matter of minutes, no matter how medicated I am.

Oh, well. Work is overrated. Besides, I do spot quite some ambivalence among those people promoting working for money. They say it's important and meaningful to them and what not. But then there is this Monday-hate and Friday-love, which totally makes me wonder what's so fantastic about working five days a week, if you just wanna get back home again.

I could never do that, force myself to a workplace where I don't find the work I do meaningful or rewarding in some other way than pay-checks. In a way that really says something about how high I value my life. That I'm not willing to waste it on a boring day to day job, just because I "have to" or that it's expected from me. That it has to be meaningful if not entertaining, something that can make me grow as a person.

Another thing is that despite the fact that I'm scared I'm gonna kill myself in the sort of near future, I don't want to rush into things. Even if I don't have enough time to get a job like that before I kill myself, at least I don't wanna waste the little time I got left on a shit job. I'd rather be living on social welfare with minimum wage for the rest of my tragically short life. Because it's really not that bad.