Reminder and freak out

Oh fuck, I had somehow forgotten... what if I'm pregnant?! I never got myself tested since that guy I fucked came in me. That stalker guy whom I eventually ended up having sex with despite being creeped out by him. He came in my vag at least once, maybe it was twice. When even was that... one or two months ago? Er, no idea. Okay my older blog post about that event tells me that was August 12th, which is a little over 5 weeks ago.

That could maybe possibly explain my weird stomach pains and possibly my extreme cravings for cake and chocolate. But I mean of course it's not likely... right? Like maybe I would have noticed more symptoms if I'm really 5 weeks pregnant? Like I've gotten no morning sickness, but then not everyone does. And uh okay according to google that wouldn't likely happen before week 6 anyhow. However I've been kinda bloated... I did notice a week or so ago that my stomach does look a bit bigger than normally, which I thought was weird, cause I've not gotten bigger anywhere else... which is not normal for how fat usually adds onto my body when I gain weight. It usually only goes onto my thighs/ass. And I rarely ever get bloated.

I did look up symptoms for week 5 and I only have about half of those. 2 of them I can't get, which are missed period and breast changes. But the ones I do recognise myself in are food cravings, constipation (but this happens rather frequently for me anyway), abdominal cramps, bloating, lightheadedness, and some more fatigue than usual. Okay I'm getting really fucking angsty and nauseous from reading that website. Ugh.

But this is making me seriously worried... Even though I know it's unlikely cause of the testo, it could still be possible. Testosterone is not a birth control. I should probably at least just fucking try to remember buying some pregnancy tests from the pharmacy just to still my worries about it if not else. While also trying to be mentally prepared for the worst. And for the panic that would likely ensure if those tests would somehow show positive.

I can feel it twisting and turning in my stomach just thinking about the possibility of something like a tiny baby growing in me... and ugh just writing that makes me want to crawl out of my skin. And Anna asks me: "What would you do with it if you're pregnant?" and all I could say was: "Please don't ask me that." So apparently I'm still battling with that. Perhaps I am not entirely sure if I might want a kid or not, and the thought of maybe having to choose... kinda terrifies me.

If I'd want a kid though, I likely wouldn't mind carrying it myself or even giving birth. I wouldn't be dysphoric about it, and it could be a rather beautiful experience. Yeah birthing would be painful, duh, but also so what. But right now I'm kinda panicking about it cause I'm so fucking unprepared and the timing couldn't possibly be worse, and because I don't know if I'd wanna keep it or not. Also I wouldn't be able to do it in a very healthy way, and so I'd worry about the kid being born wrong. Like with birth defects and what not. Like no way I could stay away from cigarettes for 9 freaking months, or from coffee for that matter. And I likely wouldn't be able to eat more healthy or quit my medication that could very likely be harmful for a kid. And also, I've just quit testosterone. Even if I'm pregnant now it likely wouldn't survive the very high levels of that hormone that are still in my system, and my estrogen levels are also likely very low. If that's so, I'll likely get a miscarriage soon if I haven't already. That could also explain the random pains from my reproductive system that I've been getting lately... They're pretty intense pains. Like knife-sharp kinda intense. However if I'd get a miscarriage that would solve my problem of not wanting to make a decision. If my body would simply choose for me.

Yeah yeah I fucking get it. I should be more careful with my sexual escapades. Unless I really do want to plop out the kid of a total stranger who was a really annoying and kinda creepy guy. Well, depends on his medical history, I guess. But also, no I don't think that's the actually important thing to worry about in terms of that. I think the most important factor with that is: I would not be able to raise a kid alone. I can't even raise myself alone! Or a house plant! And also if I got a kid now (or 8 months from now), I'd be even more stuck on this island and even more dependent on my parents' support. And they really don't want grandkids. So just no. But ugh this scares me. I don't want to have to make that decision. Of standing there with a pregnancy with the only two options being: abortion or carrying it to term. But I also have to find out if that's what I'm stuck with, before it gets too late to even get it legally aborted or I'd be standing there with just one option. I think "too late" would be week 18. But for my own personal opinions on abortion, I'd morally and emotionally probably not be able to do it after week 10-ish. So I still have time, but not forever.

I don't know if I want a kid. Maybe I do. Despite everything I've said so far about me vehemently not wanting one. But it scares the living crap out of me regardless. Because now is simply not a good time, and I don't think I'd be a good mother, but also I'm probably not very fertile at all, plus ageing... if I am pregnant now, despite how unlikely it is... it might be the only chance I could get. So wasting that chance... I might not wanna do, despite this being a very bad timing for it. And I'm also scared I'd regret aborting it. That it would haunt me and I'd not be able to let go of that child that could have been. Then I don't know if I'd rather live with that, or let that child exist even if I'd end up not being able to take care of it properly, or if it could end up with birth defects. But then morally I think that would be very cruel to do to the kid. If it was someone else I'd call them selfish and irresponsible. But I would, for whatever it's worth, at least try to get healthier for a pregnancy then.

I do feel somewhat of a very latent yearning for kids, deep within my mind. But I don't know if that is just my biological inclination for simply being female and an adult so my brain telling me to reproduce; and not a true wish from my own heart, if raising a kid is something I actually want. I think I still, for the most part, don't want to allow myself a kid, because I'm scared I'd hurt it. Either during the pregnancy itself, or by neglect, or by being actually abusive. My temper is an issue, my lack of patience also. Like if the kid would scream a lot, I think I'd eventually just ignore it and drown out the noise with music in headphones. And letting it go around in dirty clothes cause I can't bring myself to do laundry. And feeding it with the same dirty bottle cause I can't bring myself to clean it. And scream and curse at the kid when it frustrates me or won't listen. That I might start treating it like an inanimate object that annoys me and forget that it's human. And forget about it for hours at a time cause I was listening to music or playing WoW and just in my own world. And it would also likely be so mentally demanding of me that I'd just either get a mental breakdown instantly or need to hand it over to someone else more often than not. Not exactly parenting 101.

And then that little practical issue about that I'd simply be physically unable to breastfeed, which would further reduce my chances of bonding with the kid. Also, notice how I keep referring to what could be my child as an "it" instead of "they" or "he/she"? I'm de-humanising it. So I might want a kid but would I really be able to care for, or emotionally connect to it, or even see it as a human being? I'm getting a headache just thinking about it...

I know I shouldn't worry about this now before even having found out if I'm knocked up or not. But I can't help that my head is spinning around it, and I think I just need to vent these thoughts. I've probably forgotten about it again soon. I'm not terribly upset about it. I'm mostly just... I dunno, slightly upset but more just confused, I think. I don't really know what I'm feeling. Some amount of fear, but it's not really all that intense. A longing and wanting that I don't want to admit to having. I know it's unlikely, but I think what actually spawns most of this fear is that some part of me... wants for me to be pregnant. And the other parts of me are attacking that hint of a wanting as though it is a virus. I don't want to want it. I don't want to accept wanting it. And this might also be why I've been having unprotected sex so carelessly, because on some level I do want a child to come out of it. Well, fuck.

So, this ranting and this fear has more to do with my sudden knowing of that on some level it seems I do want a kid, but I don't know how genuine that wish is or if it would be wise to let it ever have its way. But then of course I'm also kinda panicking about if I'm really pregnant already or not, as well as not quite understanding how I could literally forget about it. But if I am, just if and it's the biggest IF you can imagine... oh hell will be raised within me. Cause I'd then really struggle to make a decision whether to keep it or get rid of it. But let's take that fight then, if that's the case. There's really no use for me to worry about that right now. So, see this rant more as me venting my suddenly shifting point of view about parenthood in general. But that shift was caused by me thinking "What if I'm pregnant right now?" however. And I do still worry if I am. I'll try to get those damn pregnancy tests bought tomorrow. And if I could just stop squeezing my stomach to then panic about what could be growing in it, and repeat that every 5th minute, that would be awesome!

The tugging grief of my regret

It's fucked up but sometimes I still catch myself wishing I could look like a hot guy. I know that's my escapism re-surfacing like "don't want to be a woman cause that's riddled with pain, man is safer" and I'm just like "shut up already, you've had your dance, now let me be". Like it just saddens me, that shards of my broken dream still cut me, now after my realisation that I was never a guy to begin with and I'm really just a traumatised woman, but I want to make it better and make it work for me, in a way that I don't feel broken. So getting those "oh but you could go back to living a lie" kinda thoughts is just really heavy, you know? And kinda disheartening. Or rather, heart-stabbing.

I don't really have a concept of gender. Like what even is being a man or a woman. Detransitioning confused that for me. I mean, I think of myself as a woman cause I'm comfortable presenting as one and want to have a female body, but I don't feel any sense of belonging to either gender or groups of other people of either gender. I feel just as detached from women as I do from men. I think my transition was also largely seeking a sense of belonging. And I almost, very almost, found it there. But then it was snatched away from me and I feel lost again. I don't feel a sense of belonging with cis people either, although I know I'm part of that demographic. I feel kinda lost in between being trans and cis, like I've got one foot on each side, not wanting to fully step over to either side.

I don't think either of this makes me nonbinary somehow. I think it just makes me utterly confused about who or what I am due to both my trauma and my transition that I ended up regretting. It's like I have to start over from scratch and I've no idea where to go or where I currently am even. I feel like I've lost something, not gained something. Like a piece of me was ripped off and now I'm struggling to hold myself together without that piece. And I'm scrambling to find another piece to replace it with so I can stop falling apart.

I know that many detransitioned women are radfems and thus I've come across a few who are, online. I sometimes hear the same gender-confusion in their words too, and I wonder if that's just what happens when you detransition. That maybe many of us feel like we've lost a part of ourselves that we can't quite cope well without, but we also don't seem to really know what it is that we lost. But I think it largely is that sense of belonging, to the trans community, and then as we are more or less shunned from it upon detransition, that hurts. And yet we don't quite belong with the cis demographic either, cause of our transition histories. We end up in between a bit, at least for some time while trying to figure all that stuff out.

In much of the trans community, we're suddenly seen as a threat and our stories not valid anymore. However, the truscum/transmed part of the trans community seems (so far) to be very supportive of those who detransition. Although I have to be a bit careful to not be used as an example of "how harmful the tucute ideology is, cause look it makes people regret hrt/surgery and then detransition, like this poor girl here" when that in fact was not the reason I transitioned nor the reason I detransitioned. I don't want to be used for anyone's personal or political agenda, whether I agree with that agenda or not, if it's twisting my truth to mean something else. I think I'll always have to watch my step wherever I take my story. Cause it is controversal, hardly understood, often misconstrued and wrongfully judged, and definitely often used for various agendas although most of those are transphobic.

I think it's stupid. That just because some people detransition that would somehow "de-legitimise" transsexualism as a real condition. Like what, if I had gotten misdiagnosed with diabetes and gotten bad reactions from the insulin, that doesn't mean no one has diabetes and insulin shots are pure poison? That argumment is so bafflingly retarded that I don't even have the energy to roll my eyes about it or facepalm. I have a brain. I can use it. I wish certain idiots online would stop assuming otherwise.

I just ache to be at peace with my body. I know that fixing up the transition tragedy will only be half the work needed. I know that very well. I have connected with my womanhood and some of the physical aspects pertaining to that, but it's still an ongoing and deep pain, a process and my trans-escapism resurfacing from time to time is to me a clear sign that I really still am struggling to fully accept myself. I've taken huge steps in the right direction but I'm still far from the... finishing line, if there even is such a thing. My point is I'm not there yet, whatever "there" is.

I may have really bad "reverse dysphoria" and a deep sadness over my female traits I lost and over the male traits I gained, and I'm sure that regaining what I've lost and getting rid of what I've gained will be a huge relief and liftening of a burden. But I'm also sure that I'll still feel a certain sense of hollowness even when my body looks and is as though it's been fully restored and maybe even more womanly than it was before. Cause such deep effects of trauma don't just go away over an insight.

I'm pretty sure that, for example with getting new breasts, I'd feel immensely happy about that, but that I'd also get moments of panic, feeling like "these shouldn't be on my chest" cause my trauma basically wants to sexually nullify my body and keep it without female sex characteristics. Or it sees me as a prepubescent child, which I do not want to look like at all. So that's not a genuine wish, but another aspect of my trans-self-defense-mechanism. That's a conflict in my mind I will have to sort out, with or without the help of actual therapy. I could probably sort that kind of thing out on my own, cause I did exactly that about my vagina. That was a long, intense and painful journey in and of itself, but I came out of it crying out of happiness and fully loving that traumatised part of my body that I had previously hated.

Whatever I did, I did exactly what was needed. And I think I could do the same wthing with my chest, but I can't do it without the breasts I yearn to have. I'm broken without them. I feel mutilated, amputated, with a phantom limb sensation strong enough to keep me captive in my own pain. It feels like the absolute worst form of self harm I've ever done to myself.

Yes, it does feel a lot like my transition was in fact a form of self harm and now my detransition is me trying to heal myself. And I've lost limbs to my own desperation and pain. That pains me more than I can put into words. I'm older now, I'm wiser. I know not to reach for razorblades or litres of booze, or scramble for any and all pills I can find, just to numb some feelings and shut down some thoughts. I deal more wisely, but pain is still pain, and it ravages me just as much, if not more. Cause the regret itself and knowing this was all self-inflicted... it compresses my chest by force and squeezes all the blood out of my heart until what's left feels like a hollow cavity of how hopeless it feels to want to comfort the inconsolable, of wanting to restore what cannot be undone. Like a sudden wish to be able to wake the dead after a loved one's passing.

This is grief. And I'm screaming, helplessly shaking the cold body of what cannot be revived... the cold body of what I killed... I'm screaming, what have I done?

That is only to paint a picture of what I feel, it's meant to be abstract, not literal. I managed to portray it quite well, as my heart agrees with it somehow. I don't know, it resonates. But my point is I need new tits to be able to work with my emotional hangups about having tits. Cause I simply cannot work with something I do not have. As if I would have lost my legs, I'd need prosthetics to learn how to walk again. Thus, I need tits to learn how to love them.

I really liked my outfit and general style for my grocery shopping today. It really got a kinda "classy but dark" vibe to it... so like a lawyer? Also my makeup got extremely smooth and neat looking with my new makeup sponge and that I managed to do the closest shave ever without cutting my face up at all. But anyway I really liked the look I had today. I think I feel extra awesome about it when I dress in what I'd consider a more "adult feminine" way, cause it further helps me realise I really am fine with having grown up to become a woman, cause that was the one thing I so desperately wanted to avoid, in my transition. So it feels like a huge step, even though it's just some pieces of fabric and residue of makeup. Cause when I look into the mirror when dolled up that way, and seeing a pretty looking woman who is around 30 years old, and not a man or a teen... I feel strangely at ease. Like that's what I am? And the mirror finally shows it.

I think it's possible that the testosterone aged my looks a bit, so that I look more of my actual age or even slightly older, as a woman now. But I looked slightly younger than my age as a man. Cause it's a pattern I often see among trans people, that trans women often struggle with "looking too old" and trans men struggle with "looking too young". It has to be the hormones, I think. And I don't think that's negative however I do need to get used to it, cause I'm still not sure who's face that is in the mirror.

Regardless of how I make myself look or if I don't do anything, I don't recognise my face as my own. I don't think I ever have though. It's always looked and felt like the face of someone else. A stranger that I know all too well. I think that's the constant and always looming dissociation though, that I just don't really connect to my body most of the time, although some parts I connect more or less to than others and how much tends to vary from day to day. It's very weird, actually. I feel like my body changes, although very subtly, from day to day. Like some days I feel like I'm significantly taller and other days much shorter instead, like I can feel it physically as though I've gained or lost several centimetres of height over night somehow. I like the days when I feel shorter better, cause I tend to feel more... pardon the pun but it's perfect: grounded.

And at other times my hands feel foreign to me. Like they're someone else's hands. It's weird but also a very magnificent feeling, like it's kinda "wow" about it in a beautiful way. I tend to wave around with my fingers in dancing motions then, kinda, to like just explore the strangeness of that feeling and be in awe about it. Also rather often my legs feel foreign to me in a very similar manner, but then also with the added weirdness that it sometimes makes me walk around to places I don't intend to go to, like I'm just not paying attention to what my brain is up to. I think that is exactly what this is: my brain disconnecting from itself and not paying attention to itself properly. And that creates these sorta alien physical sensations. They don't scare me at all. In fact I tend to feel more visually appealing or attractive when some or all of my limbs feel foreign to me, and my motions feel softer and lighter, more delicate and harmonic. Almost like I'm halfway into a dream.

These are very common experiences for me, I get them almost every day, or several days a week at least. So I'm used to it and it doesn't scare me, but it does mean I feel like a stranger to my own body most of the time, and I can't remember a time I have not felt that disconnect. To some degree or another, I've been constantly dissociating for as far back into my past as I can remember. I tend to call it a "haze" and "mist" cause it kinda puts like a filter between me and... and well myself as well as the world around me. It clogs my mind and lets me see, feel and hear through an unclear and soft nylon-stocking filter.

I think why it's so hard for me to describe my dissociation, is because I don't think I really know anything else. I don't have anything to compre it to. Like I don't know what the antonym of dissociation would even feel like. What's that, clarity? I mean I logically know that my body is mine, cause like who else's would it be? My late grandma's? But mentally it doesn't connect to me much at all. I connect to my pussy quite a lot, my eyes and my hair, but that's about it.

That might also actually be THE explanation for my almost complete lack of appetite this past 1,5 year: I've dissociated away from my sense of hunger.

It explains it perfectly, actually. Cause I can still feel physical hunger just the same, but my mind just doesn't latch onto it but instead shuns it as something foreign and unreal that it doesn't understand or accept as its own feeling. Like it forgot what the physical sensation hunger means and why it's there. It gets angry at it and feels threatened by it. Like a scared animal hissing at someone trying to feed it cause it doesn't trust or understand the hand that feeds it. My dissociation makes everything, externally as well as internally, feel vague, surreal, and very hard to kinda hold onto. I have a very, very huge mind-body disconnect. And they can't communicate with each other at all.

It's more or less always been like that, although shifting focus sometimes, but it used to be to a lesser degree when I was a kid, I think. I think it got worse and/or started, that general dissociation, when I was around 10-12 years old. No it must have been sooner, i was barely even aware of my surroundings as a 5-6 year old! Like I could sit in some shrub and play with my kid toys and not notice that several hours had passed and the entire school was looking for me. That happened a few times. Well at least my bullies couldn't find me either. But then neither could I. And I still can't.

I'm starting to wonder if there even is a "me" to find? Perhaps I have the wrong perspective, and that it's not about finding, cause I've been here all along, haven't I? What kind of mystical force or feeling am I even looking for? I wonder. But maybe life should be about being and creating instead of looking for things. I hate it when I lose something in my home and I can't find it right away. It angers and frustrates me. Eventually I get despondent and drained and then decide to do what I should have done from the start: let it find me instead. What goes around comes around. I think I can apply the same logic to the home that is my mind as well.

I know that I chose to cram in as much experiences as possible into this one life, before I got here, to learn as much as possible and get as much out of one lifetime as possible. Yet I keep blaming God for my misery. That doesn't add up. I caused my misery, cause misery teaches you things and wises you up. I chose the hard way, and thus the only one I can blame is myself. Although I don't think I should. I think I'm trying to reach some kind of "nirvana" in this one life, although that should theoretically not be possible, despite my two previous lives making this life my third. I mean at least it's not my first life, but still very soon for ending the reincarnation cycle. I got fed up with it. I think I'm trying to beat the odds. And where I'm at in life now... I've been opening and closing a lot of doors. It feels like for the first time ever I'm starting to actually become honest to myself. Even if that means losing all of my core beliefs and being left with nothing. Well, nothing but wisdom.

I don't fight it as much anymore, I try not to. Try to welcome the uncomfortable thoughts and let them have their say. Analyse them and find out what they mean. I have more than just a feeling that this journey will lead to most, if not all, of my core beliefs to turn out to be false. And it will hurt me immensely, but it will also strengthen me. Eventually. Am I prepared for that? No, I never will be. That's not something I can prepare myself for. But the harsh truth somehow matters and means more to me now than false comfort does. I'm really taking the "red pill" I guess, as a "The Matrix" metaphor. And if I really want to make the most out of my life and achieve the seemingly impossible for my own personal gain, I have to face that immense fear. So I will. Come hell or high water, I'm gonna learn how to swim until nothing can drown me.

Facing and living my fear of detransitioning gave me just enough strength to know I can do exactly that. Not all at once or right now, but at whatever points I'll feel that pulling towards each of those depths beckoning me from within myself. I have a lot of contacts within my subconscious mind. I'm ironically/contradictory very conscious of it and have a few actually direct connections to it already. Although connecting to them is a bit more complicated and difficult than making a phone call.

God damn I just keep ranting all night... I need sleep, but my mind won't shut up. I want that future though, but most of all I want the journey to it. I did learn to appreciate the small things. I did actually. Yeah, I know now that me and Y definitely met at the wrong points in our lives, like we talked about. But it was right in the sense that I learned a lot from it. I'm starting to see patterns in what that relationship in my past meant for my future. A lot I never could have even remotely foreseen back then, not even 2 years ago. I've changed so much, yet I remained the same.

Grim light (poem)

I stand in shadow and gaze at grim light
dimmed by my hesitation, wondering is the future even bright?
too far to see and not enough to show
am I blinded by what I already know?

Never knowing if I'm too hopeful or too bitter
left dithering between choices, unable to tell dust from glitter
but I lean forward, to dip my toes into the cold water
hoping, waiting, but time grows as I faulter

And I stumble into the unknown
as fear ruptures my excitement, and hides what I want shown
but how will I ever touch it and feel
if I cannot somehow make it real

It's dangerous they say, and worry for my health and sanity
but I grew weary of care based on a taboo, disguised as humanity
and now I wander freely into the dirt to find brittle gold
to the fringe of society where my shell can be repeatedly sold

And all my reasons to fear, what might not even come to pass
will follow me all the way through, alas
and all the times I'll misjudge and get hurt, I'll recall that hesitation
exasperated by the doubts of others
but without this chance I'll be lost in my stagnation

(written by me)

The downsides

I have thought about what consequences it could mean if I do get pregnant. Like the social consequences. That I would likely be misgendered a lot again and people would definitely start questioning my "choice" of transitioning in the first place. They would not understand.

Cause in this society, having children is still considered a very female thing to do. And I think, that people would question my gender identity because of that. Like just walking down the street with a huge pregnant belly and with all my previous curves back in place (except from the boobs, obviously, though I've heard some of that tissue can grow back during a pregnancy).

Anyways, I'd deal with that if it comes to that. I would be off hormones for quite some time and a lot of things, things I didn't even think of before, can or will revert back. With me already fighting against my androgyny I would most likely be read as female again if all that happens.

So yeah... it has some downsides that I would have to deal with one way or another. What to say to people, if I should let them believe I'm female just to easier get understanding for my situation, or explain everything the way it actually is to get the respect that I deserve, for examples.

It's a lot... it's so much to think about regarding the whole deal and my head is soon gonna explode, I think. Though I think the hardest part right now is trying to figure where to possibly start. How do I even get knocked up in the first place?

I can probably forget about finding a partner equipped for the job and who also wants to start a family just like that. I can probably also forget about donors. I'd try that though, cause it seems like the most reasonable method to go for.

It would be one hell of a circus, if I decide to go for that. Just getting everything in order and all the damn preparations and what not. But it would be so worth it... Me and my bloody obsessions, what's next? I know you're all thinking it, I'm not stupid.

I wish I could soothe you with something, if you're worried that I'll just jump right into it and it becomes a damn mess too late to get out of. But I can't really think of anything to say, other than that I would try to plan it as much as I possibly can and always listen to my gut, back out if I feel I can't do it, and also surround myself with all the help I can possible get as long as I can afford it somehow. And by somehow I mean my parents.

My family is complicated, especially when it comes to little kids. No one likes them, not even me. Well, I don't like most kids, or kids in general, but some I do like and that's what differs me from the rest of my family. I can think a baby is cute and I'm not always bothered by them screaming/crying.

I can easily smile when I just see a random kid at the grocery store or wherever and my mind starts to wander, I start thinking what if I was their parent and such. While the rest of my family seems to hate them at all costs, I'm not like that.

Also, I'm the least able in my family, I'm the one who needs almost constant care of some form although I'm more mature than my sister, I'm far more disabled than she is. My mother is far more abled than my sister and my father is the most abled/independent of us all. It goes like that, basically.

So I, who likes kids the most but am the least capable of caring for one, should get one? It is complicated, and I can't really wrap my head around it myself even. But I do wish that my family liked kids too, it would definitely simplify things a lot. And I probably wouldn't have had to think my brain to wrinkles if that was the case. But it's not and I have to be the smart one now.

Like, see if I could get help from elsewhere besides my otherwise so supporting family. Like LSS or some other kind of help. I don't know really what kind of help I could possibly get if I do get a child with all my diagnoses.

I thought I'm gonna google LSS and see if I can find any useful information about that. Okay, I can't really find any real information, just random people's opinions on online forums. Someone said something about the LSS staff not being able to help caring for children as well as the adults living in the residents, which I can somewhat understand.

Though it has to be solved somehow. I mean, I'm still in need of that kind of support and I'm also allowed to have children. Juridic complications, I can see them really becoming a problem... sigh.

It would be so fucking complicated I can't even fathom it. If only I had been a cisgendered person without diagnoses, but I'm not and there's nothing I can do about those things. I'd just have to deal, somehow. And if or when I do decide to go for it, I'm gonna have to talk to the crew and figure out a solution of some kind. Like maybe I'd have to go to a specific family home or something. Cause I stumbled across that too while I was searching, but only about disabled children and special LSS care for them.

Although likely my child would get asperger too, I don't think that would be the worst thing to deal with. It's all the practical stuff that children, any child, has needs for. Though, I think I would be able to do most of the childcare stuff on my own. Like feeding, clothing, bathing, teaching, generally just caring for them. It's possible illnesses, administrative and juridical stuff that I would need help with.

All this gives me a headache. And I haven't even remotely thought of everything yet, I feel there are more mountains of doom to think through before I can possibly reach my decision whether or not to have a child. As my thoughts move in bigger and more complicated circles I get back to the same issues but deeper into them each time. Soon, I might have reached my decision.

It feels worth it all, but that doesn't mean that I know it would be. I just want to avoid suddenly drowning in an ocean of phone calls and paperwork once the baby has been born. In hassles and arguments nation wide because I'm not like other people and I know that there's a fucking majority not wanting me to reproduce. And I'd have to deal with that somehow and do as much as I possibly could on my own. It would be far from easy cause these diagnoses on paper actually have major impacts on my entire life.

So, sure I want a little bundle of joy, but I'd be facing so much chaos you can't possibly imagine it. Juridic, administrative, personal, social, within my own home and outside in society. I. Can't. Grasp. It.

Holding on to the dream (very long)

I finally managed to drag my ass to the tobacco store to buy cigarettes and then found a lot of things at the grocery store too. I'll continue replacing beans with that soy based farce and nuts instead, for now. It's at least got some kind of protein in it.

And I thought about parenthood and children all the way down town and back up again. I can't let go, and I don't want to.

Would my eating disorder be a terrible obstacle if I got pregnant? I can't help but wonder if that could become dangerous somehow, for the baby, I mean. And then I can't help but worry about complications of any kind.

Like my friend who knows about this thing couldn't get anesthesia because of his male personal identity number, that the computer rejected it somehow. Or like what could happen if my child would be ill or injured somehow? Like what if has downs syndrome?

I'd just try my best to take care of it anyway, cause I can't possibly imagine having an abortion because of anything. It would tear at my soul and heart, to do such a thing when I want a child this much. I know that my genes suck, but there's nothing I can do about that. I didn't choose my crappy genes.

And suddenly I start thinking about clothes. What I should possibly wear during a pregnancy. Like I was thinking I could try those special kind of jeans if they don't look too feminine (I already wear women's jeans sometimes as it is) and combine that with men's quite large shirts and sweaters.

And baby clothes... oh my god, I want to buy that already! But it will be tricky figuring out if I should go gender neutral or mix girly with boyish. Or I could sew my own if I had the inspiration and will to do that. Or if I should go with "normal" or something goth-ish. I'd probably mix and match in a messy way that might or might not turn out so good.

Although, what kind of clothes to choose would be the least of my worry, to be perfectly honest. I don't even know if I'll raise my possible kid on Gotland or on the main land. Because I want to move back to Uppsala sometime not too far into the future. Although, I'd aim for going through pregnancy and the first year or so with my parents close at hand, because of pure practical reasons.

Yes, my parents would hate me for bringing a child to the world, but you know what? It's my life, my body, my fucking decision and they have no right to stop me from getting a child if that's what I decide for. They'd just have to deal with it. They could complain however much they want to, it's not up to them.

I really can't stop ranting about this, and I'm a little bit sorry for filling up entire walls of text about this here on my blog. It might be a bit tedious to read about by now. But it's what's on my mind and it's what's keeping me alive right now, so I think it's fair to say that it's important in that way.

It's true, I've become close to suicidal again, when I don't think about having children, because K never spoke to me again after 35 days. And I can't deal with that. I can't deal at all. And if it wasn't for these fluffy thoughts on parenthood, I could have been in that suicidal mess again by now.

So, I'm riding on those fluffy feelings of wanting a child, even though it's still way too early to tell if I'm actually ready for such a drastic change it would be to actually go through with it. And for a fraction of a second, I was actually glad in a fucked up way, that I was born with a female body, because that allows me to experience a pregnancy if that's what I truly want.

I'm not saying that I'm de-transitioning or anything even remotely close to that. I'm still a man, just sort of embracing a part of my body that I've always hated up until recently. My female parts isn't what I am, it's simply something that I have and whether or not I have those parts, I'm still a guy and always will be.

So, I'm definitely not going female again, just possibly use what I have the way it was intended, or what to say. Make use for those child bearing hips and that junk that rattles inside me that's caused so much pain and suffering and dysphoria all through my teenage years and early 20's with all that it meant with having/getting periods.

Just one child, that's all I ever want. I couldn't imagine doing it twice or more. Once I kinda wanted two kids, a boy and a girl, but what if it turns out to be two boys or two girls? Haha, I don't really care about that, but what I do care about is simply this: it would (likely) be a whole lot harder with more than one kid. And I only need one. That one I could easily favour over every other kid in the whole wide world and there would be no competition. Hope I wouldn't spoil them too much though, haha.

I have thought about one more thing though, that I probably wouldn't take advantage of daycare that much. Since I'm not dependent on a job or anything, I could easily be a stay at home parent and still get money coming in. I would love to be a stay at home parent! Seriously. And I would need to, unless I find a partner that could help me with that. But I also know that it's even harder finding a partner if you have a child, generally speaking.

Not that I'm even looking for a partner, except from K, but yeah. Yeah... that's a whole different chapter that you already know about. So, I'd aim to be a single parent, and then the partner issue, if it becomes an actual issue, can get solved whenever or never cause I forgot how to care about that. Cause it's like, with a child, I wouldn't need any other kind of love.

I do believe that, that that's the only love I need in my sad excuse for a life. And suddenly I'm not so disgusted by my body anymore, though possibly going off testosterone bothers me a bit. All the changes that could revert back and going back to the menstrual cycle with all those mood swings and what not. Having those female hormones rampaging in my body for 9 months then too. I can just barely imagine what a hell it could be like.

I've only heard stories from cis-women and a few transguys (mostly from youtube, haha). So yeah, that would definitely be something to look forward too... So it both scares me and allures me. It's such a mix of thoughts and feelings... like really, I can just barely manage to describe it all. Although I try to, cause I just can't keep it all bottled up inside me.

It's like I'm already trying to prepare myself, you know. For what it could be like. I want to know everything before making my decision definite. Right now I'm just letting myself feel these feelings and think these thoughts. Just letting it all bounce around to eventually settle for whatever conclusion I might reach.

And I don't want to stop writing about it this time, but my words reach an end and eventually I'll have to. The first person I think about telling would be my shrink. I'll see her again the 17th and maybe I'll tell her then or the next time. There's a lot about Anna going on in that office right now. Secondly I'll tell my mother, and then I don't know. Possibly the internet, or the crew.

The crew needs to know because if I do plan to go through with it I don't know what is their view point on me having an extra person living in my LSS apartment suddenly one day. If I'd have to move out or if it can be arranged in some other, less complicated way. Cause I'm gonna need a whole lot of support including LSS if I do decide to have a child.

I mean, I still can't quite take care of myself and I know that it would be wise of me to wait a few more years to see if I could get more independent first, that thought is not lost on me, but I really feel like I don't have that kind of time. I might be lost in my self fulfilling prophecy, or I'm just too damn realistic. I don't know, but I think both the male hormones rampaging through my body and time lessens my chances of being able to get pregnant in the first place, as well as my mind slowly killing me as I constantly lose my will to live.

In other words, I just don't have all eternity. I don't have the time that I might need. I'll have to make it work anyway somehow. And it feels like one of the most important decisions of my entire life, maybe of everyone's life, and I just can't let it go forever. I know, have known for 2 years now, that I want to have a child someday, whether that is within a year or 10 years from now.

I can't see myself alive in 10 years. I really, really can't. But I hope I will be, I hope I'll be alive to take care of that child and help them up to and through their adulthood. I don't want to die from my child. Of course they should outlive me, but not like that. I don't want them growing up, never have known their father, but I realise that with the mess that is my life, it might have to come to that.

I so-so accept it, yet it's tearing me apart. If only I could find something like a guarantee that I won't die before I turn 28, but I can't possibly find such a thing. All I can do is try to find reasons to hold on to life and suffer through what needs to be suffered through. Back again, is it selfish of me to want a child if that's the only thing that could keep me alive? Is that a horrible reason, or in fact a rather amazing one?

To maybe, just maybe, one day tell that child that "you kept me alive". I mean, I'm almost in tears just thinking about that. And the shudders... damn. But maybe it would be placing a terrible burden on that child as well, or if they are more grown up at that time.

It's probably not something you should say to a 7 year old or something. But maybe a 27 year old? If I ever get to live to the age of *counting* 54 or beyond. I counted it as I would be 27 when I get that child, which is about as early as I could become a parent.

I might still be 26 but I find that unlikely somehow. Also, somehow I find it appealing that I could have my child at a younger age than my parents were when they had me. Although it would be at most 3 years younger, it's still something. Growing up, I always thought that my parents were too old and everyone else's parents were a lot younger. Though that wasn't entirely true of course, since 30 isn't that old to get your first child.

It really isn't old, now pushing 30 myself, haha. I hope I'll get to my 30th birthday and celebrate it with my tiny little family. I wonder what season or month my child would be born, all of a sudden. Oh my god, I just want that kind of life so much! Right now, I can't really imagine anything more wonderful and beautiful.

What suddenly changed within me? Two years ago I never intended to have a child, now it's all I can think of. It came so suddenly this time. Hm, my child would likely never know their grand-grand parents, I just came to think of. Somehow that saddens me, cause before, when my grand mother was still sane, she used to love kids. Now she's the only one still (barely) alive and lives at a retirement home somewhere in the Stockholm area. I don't think I would ever visit her there, and definitely not bring a child to such a place.

I just wish I had a relative that likes children. Possibly my uncle, by the way, since he for quite some time had a girlfriend who has kids. I think they're about 5-7 years old. He still has contact with them. So possibly that he would be alright with meeting my possible future child. Other than that, I would likely mostly have my family to myself and my parents would help me as much as they could force themselves to, with desperate sighs and what not.

Haha, it wouldn't be that much time for sitting by the computer blogging, chatting, playing video games or doing anything for that matter when having an infant to take care of 24/7. Yeah... but oh it would be fun. I really think so. Waking up 20 times a night to feed the little bundle of joy, changing diapers and checking for fevers and other ailments, comforting and carrying them everywhere. I'd give lots of love, making up for that I wouldn't be able to breast feed them. Just holding them instead.

I don't know if you've noticed, but I refrain from calling my possible future child "it" as I don't really see children as property but more as actual, although tiny, human beings. So there is a thought behind that.

Also, I couldn't have picked a better time to get better at and like cooking, right? Cause then I could cook for that possible child. And as I said before, I'd make them anything, vegan or not. What's most important is that they get everything they need, and secondly that they would like the food.

Okay, I'm running out of words now and I'll post this massive wall of text that consists of most of my thoughts since that last entry earlier today. My head really is cramming with thoughts and feelings colouring each other in an endless spinning... whatever, and this is the only way I can at least somewhat sort it all.

Something to live for

I've been wondering too what to do with the internet if I end up with child. Like it would probably be hard to keep such information to myself. And would tumblr then find out about me being trans too? Since it would be impossible stating one fact without the other, I mean.

Maybe I wouldn't care about coming out, or I'd find another way of saying that I'm gonna have a child. But then people would probably ask who the mother is, and my child isn't gonna have a biological mother. Isn't that a little mind blowing too? That the child would have 2 biological fathers? Mother, father, they're just words really, the process is still the same as it would be for a female having her child.

But I've been thinking about it on and off, what an extraordinary thing it would be really, for me to have a child. That it would be uncommon for a transguy post transition to do such a thing. I know it's not very uncommon at all for transguys to have children before their transition, but it's not exactly the same thing.

And I'm still scared about the weight gain. Isn't that just annoying, in a way? My annoying eating disorder which I can't wrap my head around, like why would that even be important at all? Of course, of bloody course there would be weight gain with a pregnancy. There would be another person living inside my belly, that I'd also have to feed and eat more for.

I'd really have to look it up in precise details just how much more I'm supposed to eat throughout that possible pregnancy. Keep in touch with the same or another dietitian so that I'd do it right and neither starve the poor thing nor overfeed both it and myself. And maybe even somehow deal with a slight overfeeding if it comes to that. Cause that would be better than starvation any day, even I realise that.

There actually was a time when I thought about it, that if I'd ever end up pregnant and wanting to keep the baby, I would do everything wrong just because I still somehow wouldn't have cared. That I would smoke, drink and keep my bad eating habits. But now, I'm not just thinking it would be stupid, it would be incredibly wrong and horrible of me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I might have hurt my baby.

I'm maturing, okay? Possibly even becoming a responsible adult, in a way. In this certain way, I'd just love to be the best parent I could ever possibly be. Maybe it wouldn't be enough, but it's the best I can do. And I'm all for becoming a better person, in lots of ways.

Maybe I wouldn't be fit for a parent, but I'd bloody try with everything I've got and more to not be an unfit parent.

I'm glad these thoughts are back, making me smile again for a possible, much brighter but also much more complicated, future. I'll stick to my plan though, to not go jumping into anything until some time has passed. I need for this to sink in properly and I really can't rush this. That would just be irresponsible and I need for this to be an at least somewhat wise decision.

And there is sooo much to plan around, really, I don't think you have any idea. I don't think anyone does unless you have a child already, and yes, that would definitely include me too. I'm just looking at this huge other world ahead of me and I can't grasp it. Is it ahead of me? I don't know that yet.

It's soon April. Where did the time go? As far as I know, things could already be set in motion by this time next year, or I could have realised that parenthood isn't something for me after all. I will however wait a while with possible bottom surgery, let's say a few years, just to be dead sure about that.

Cause that is still something I'd like to have done sometime in the future. If I even live that long. I can't possibly know. But right now, I can see myself wanting to be alive for a child, but not without one. Anything to keep me alive? Usually yes, but in this case? I'm not that sure.

Not able to let go

I've finally decided that I won't do a hysterectomy, and probably not any other form of bottom surgery either. Sure, I still want it, but I just want to have a child first. At least give it a try, I don't know how well my organs work after 3-ish years on testosterone (1 plus almost 2 years) or if they ever worked as intended.

I won't jump onto that immediately though, I still have a lot of practical planning and such to do. Becoming a parent isn't a decision that should be made impulsively. But I know that I want it one day and I'm not gonna rob myself of my ability to have children.

Also, the longer I am on testosterone and the older I get, it will be harder to become pregnant. I also have that on my mind. Although I'm still only 25 years old (for about another month before I turn 26) I am scared of becoming too old for it. Also scared of dying before I ever get that far.

So, in spite of everything, in this moment, I have sort of already decided to have a child sometime in the future. It could be within a year or several years from now. But it's gonna happen. I don't care how unfit I am, I'll make it work somehow. It's really not about passing on my genes, or how to say it, it's just that I'm absolutely certain I won't meet the requirements for adoption. Like ever. I'm trans, not straight, not in a stable relationship with anyone, I'm mentally ill and can't take care of myself. How could I ever be given that option? It's not gonna happen.

So, I know the only way I could ever become a parent is to just bake one in the oven myself. And that I will, eventually, one day. I don't know if it's so much about getting ready for it, I already know that I am. I have thought about it and gotten ready for it for about 2 years, after all. No, it's more about getting ready practically and somehow finding a not so dangerous way of ending up pregnant.

I do plan to raise the kid myself, not gonna look for a decent partner to help me or whatever. I want the kid entirely my own and I just think randomly hooking up with a second father or a mother (that would then adopt) would just complicate things. Although, how can I raise a kid entirely on my own when I can't even take care of myself? Well, that is the biggest question, now isn't it?

I haven't figured out an answer for it, only new questions that I can't answer either. It would be the project of my life, basically. But as much as I know right now is simply this: don't get a hysterectomy, don't poke around there as I need things down there to be perfectly intact. And hope with all my fingers crossed that I am not infertile already. Could possibly test that as well though, by going to gynaecologist, I mean.

Those are the things I can do as of now, I won't just blindly jump into it. I'll try to plan around it as much as I can, but try to somewhat keep my plans secret from my parents. They don't want me reproducing and I know that they don't even like kids. So yeah... they don't want to become grand parents but it's my choice and fuck what they want.

Fuck what anyone else wants, by the way. I'm not doing it traditionally because I've given up on ever getting a decent partner in my life, and somehow, I don't think it would work with K if we ever end up together. If we do, things would probably get more complicated. I don't know, they might get easier too. If he even wants kids, I don't know that either.

I'm trying to leave him out of the picture, making it entirely my decision and that's the way it should be. I don't really care about anything else as of now, I believe things will sort themselves out.

Is it possible that I have some kind of motherly feelings going on only because of how my body is? I mean, it's not exactly common for young men who are tragically single to want a baby. For whatever reasons, I think it's possible that it changes things that I'm not shaped like most of those young men. If it's got something to do with my brain or my reproductive organs, or my upbringing or whatever, I can't really pinpoint it. But I think it's a possibility that my strong wishes for wanting a child one day is related to that my body was originally female and still partially is.

I don't know how much science is behind it, but I've heard about that the brains of transsexuals are possibly of their correct gender, that a ftm would have a male brain and vice versa. But if that is correct, I've always believed that my brain is either entirely female or not gendered at all. I don't think I have a male brain despite being male.

But it could be all bullshit, what do I know. Maybe I don't believe that brains have genders at all. But the mind do, and possibly the soul too. I would never see myself as a mother though, even when I'm carrying my child under my heart, it's a gendered word and I would only accept the words father, dad or parent.

I know of a person, I won't tell his name or anything, but he's also ftm and has given birth to a child post his transition. I know that he managed to get the papers stating him as the father to his child, although there was some hassle around it.

I wouldn't be the only transman to give birth to a child, but certainly one of the first Swedish ones. I hope I won't get too famous for it, I'd still prefer being stealth as much as I possibly could during a pregnancy. Say I have a beer belly or something, haha. Sad that the world just can't let people be.

And in a way I'm suddenly glad that it's 2015 and the times are not as oppressed as they were before. Back to when for example transsexuals were forced to get sterilised to be able to change their gender marker. It's still uncommon, for transmen to have children, but I think I'd get accepted in a way maybe I wouldn't have back 10, 15 or 20 years ago.

Though I do not strive for that sort of fame, I don't want to end up in the newspaper for simply having a child with all my disabilities and what not. People have children literally all the time, I don't want to be made special for it. Perhaps I can avoid it somehow, I don't know. Perhaps I'd be so damn fucking thrilled over having a child that I wouldn't even be bothered by that. How can I know?

My thoughts and feelings are running wild but I try to contain myself, a little. I never really contain myself on this blog, and maybe I just need a place to vent? I haven't been able to really let go of that wanting, for a child, since it first started echoing in my head and heart sometime during the winter/spring of 2013, exactly 2 years ago.

I was still seeing my DBT therapist when I ranted to her about my sudden wish to become a parent. It must have been awkward, but I sort of trusted my therapist back then. Mostly, that wish has lied dormant since then and the thoughts only haunt me sometimes.

I'd stop smoking for a child. I think I actually would, to not harm the little life in me. And of course stop drinking too, but I think that would be easier, it's just a part time addiction and not really important to me. And try to cope with my eating disorder (no starving or purging), aaand of course I'd be scared of the weight gain and try my best to not gain more weight than necessary. To not get like 20 kg extra weight, is what I mean.

Over all, I'd try to be good to myself during a pregnancy. As good as I possibly can and still be able to at least somewhat control my anxiety. A good thing about living on allowance, I could easily skip school whenever for something like that. Just another thought. My thoughts seem to be endless recently, just spinning in my head like whirl winds. But I'll try to stop them for now, again, but I don't know how.

It's just that my longing for children just gets more intense all the time and I know that I will get one eventually. Just one, by the way, I think that's about as much as I can handle, and let's just hope then that I don't get twins...

I wonder so much what it could be like, maybe the only happiness I can ever get in this life. Until social services takes them away from me... yeah, I do realise that is also a possibility. It would wreck my world, but even that thought doesn't keep me from wanting to try for a family.

Okay... long ass entry about me wanting a child in the mess that is my life not long after another baby ranting entry that I made just a couple of days ago or so. But it's what's on my mind and I just really wanted to vent and rant about it.

Also I wanted to inform you that I do plan to plan around it as much as I can and that I'll try to go about it in a decent way somehow. I don't know how or when, but not right now. Definitely not right now! -I try to tell the impatient me that just wants and wants and wants. For crying out loud, it really really shouldn't be impulsive, no matter how fucking much I want it.

Chasing fears

I'm turning 27 in a little more than a year and I fear it like nothing else. I know that I won't turn 28 and 27 will be my last birthday. I will probably celebrate it with tears. That's how much I believe in that stupid prophecy, that's how strong my stupid beliefs are. They might not be true, but I believe them blindly. Although I want to doubt, cause I want to turn 28 and 29 and so on. But I'm just so damn certain that I won't.

And as that particular birthday gets closer, I just want to make things right again. Moving back to the city I can call my home would be a good thing. Meet up with my friends again and that time I'll stay. Have a big party or something. Just be alive for as long as I possibly can. Shit, it feels like I'm really dying, like I'm dying from a terminal disease or something. Just counting the days, and there are less than 753 days left.

My pathetic life is running away from me like sand between my fingers. I try to catch it but I can't. I can't believe that my 27th birthday is coming in so close now, it felt so far into the future just a heartbeat ago. But oh, my perfect age really does deceive me. And my mortal fear will be my cause of death. It's all so ironical I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

So I just need to hurry the fuck up with living my life. Desperately try to finish my book and hopefully I can get it published within this year or at least the beginning of the next. Move back to Uppsala again and regret ever moving to Gotland and spending 3 or 4 shitty and useless years on this island. Hopefully get some cash for my book so that I can get another tattoo or several. Get more piercings. Get thin, get fit.

I have so much to do how the hell am I possibly gonna pack that into less than two years?! Should I get a child when I'm at it too? I've wanted that for some time now, but always thought I'd be unfit for a parent, but oh boy I'd be very unfit if I'm dead. Can't just bring a child to the world without rhyme or reason to then leave it parentless.

Like it would have one dead biological father and another completely unknown father somewhere in the country that I just happened to hook up with for that reason alone. Trying to make myself stop thinking about children but I haven't really been able to for the last two or so years. Hesitating to do SRS solely because of that reason, but I'd be unfit, unfit, unfit.

I'm a mess and can't even take care of myself, I have fucked up morals that I'd be passing on and then we shouldn't even begin to talk about the genes I'd pass on. It would be cruel, and that poor child would probably have a worse upbringing than the one I had. That's not right and I know my reasons for wanting a baby are purely selfish and I hated my parents for their selfish reasons to have me, their first child.

But I can't get it out of my fucked up head, I just want a frigging baby. Unconditional love the only way that it can be right. To maybe finally be able to heal my broken heart. No never be lonely, to always love that child no matter what becomes of them. To just hold that new born child, knowing that I'd do anything I possibly can and more to give them a decent life; I still don't think I could ever give them more than just that though, a decent life.

I don't even know how it could possibly work out practically, if I do decide to go for it, and if I even can have children. Like how about LSS, would they possibly help me me with the practical and can I even live in LSS with a baby? What about my financial situation? I'm living on allowance, could it possibly be increased/raised if I'm suddenly paying everything for two? And my parents would hate me for giving them even more responsibilities.

Alas, it is a thought I have not been able to let go of, and as you can probably tell, I've thought about it quite a lot. And why should I deprive myself of my right to have children, only because I'm not as capable as most people are? It is my right, my choice and no one can take it away from me. If I decide to go for it, maybe in a year or so, and hopefully being slightly more independent and living in Uppsala, away from my parents.

Simply, I don't want them interfering with it. I don't want them to possibly, basically taking my child away from me and raise them themselves because I'm certain they don't think I'd be fit for a parent either. I am almost certain that they would try to take them away from me. And I wouldn't be able to handle that. Would anyone?

I have classmate whom I am almost considering a friend by now. She has 3 children whom was taken away from her and placed in foster care. I don't want that happening to me but I see the possibility of that happening. Because of how bad I am at taking care of myself, my complete lack of knowledge about children and child care, money problems, anything really. Society simply doesn't want people like me reproducing.

I stray from the topic all the time and this becomes quite a wall of text, but I don't care, I just need to ventilate all this. It all comes down to my fear of dying before 28 and if I want a frigging child before I die, I should hurry up with that cause those take 9 months to make. And the thing is, even if I don't die, I don't think having a child would be something that I'd regret. It would definitely make my life harder, but I believe, in spite of everything, that it would give me a pretty damn good reason to live.

I haven't yet decided, I should plan more first. Not just get there without all that knowledge that I currently lack. But other things keep getting in the way, like mental problems, school and what not. And those things will keep getting in the way, at least my mental problems.

I just really have to ask myself if I truly think I could care for a child the way things are like right now and always been like. That's what it all comes down to, cause I won't get cured or drastically better, and a child can't change who I am as a person.

Of all the things I want to do before I die, this, about becoming a parent, surely stings the hardest. It's one of the hardest decisions I've ever tried to make and it won't get any easier as time passes and I get older. If I get older, that is. There are so many things to think about and consider and reconsider. I'm not a perfect, straight, cis-male with a healthy mind and background. It's so much more complicated. I know what I want, I just don't know if I can have it.

Make it a better year

I just want to look good and I don't think I've ever been this aware and picky about my looks before. Like really, since I started losing weight almost 2 years ago. I've always kept that picture in my head what I eventually want to end up looking like. But it's been taking so long and I've given up a lot of times on the way. But I practice what I preach even though it takes longer than expected. I am gonna look at least close to that sometime in the future, that much is for sure.

Now I've lost the weight and it's time to start exercising to gain some muscle mass. People who knew me way before should not be able to recognise me when I'm done. That's also kind of a goal. I don't want to look like a curvy girl anymore, now I need to look like a lean guy instead. And I say "need" because it transcends wanting, wishing and hoping. I simply need it in order to not hate my body. I might not be able to love it, but I just want to wake up one day and look in the mirror with a smile on my lips.

Maybe that is much to ask for, I don't know. But I'm aware of that my standards reach the stars in altitude and although I'm not crawling under the ground anymore, I still have a long way left to go. I'll be trying to get my stomach flat through exercise and eating right, instead of slipping back into disordered eating and downright starvation. I got my chance to recover and I'm taking it.

Still gonna be vegan but not skipping essential food groups to get thin, I'm opting for lowering my body fat percentage through exercise and gaining muscle mass instead. A sort of goal would be 10-15% body fat and lean muscles, while I'm now having maybe 20-25% and basically no muscles at all. I may appear thin to others, but I don't know. I think I might be that so called "skinny fat" with relatively high body fat percentage, or so it looks like to me. It's hard to say, cause I still think I look huge.

But yeah, achieving my goals in a healthier way is my goal now. Starting by just trying to eat healthy with more fruit and vegetables; and less chocolate and bread. I seriously eat too much bread, it's insane. I get lazy with cooking (shame on me, not cooking every single day) but when I do cook which happens quite frequently, I pack my meals full of various healthy things and it also turns out tasting rather good. I'm still trying to learn more about veganism and what I might need more or less of.

My dietitian is on leave/holiday but will be back sometime in April so I can pump her of information about food related stuff too. She seems to know at least a bit about veganism, or well, more than I do. I will refuse to let this become a bad year just because it started out badly with my eating disorder, I will try to change things around for the better.

My mother and basically everyone else around me are still on me about gaining weight. Like nope, nope, nope won't ever happen unless it's muscles. But I will try to avoid the scale for a while and go with my measurements instead. I don't fucking need to gain weight, when will people realise that?! I'm 57 kg and 168 cm tall, it puts me at a BMI of frigging 20,2 which is completely within the normal range. I could even lose 5 kg and still be within the normal range. Or well, 4 kg then. 52 kg would be underweight then, of course.

Okay, I just go on talking for all eternity today, but I don't care. Not like many people read this anyway. But I need to finish it off now cause I want to continue drawing, colouring my drawing. I hope this continues to be a good day, although I'm still feeling a bit icky about something I did yesterday. Am I turning evil? I hope not but sometimes I kinda start doubting if I'm really a good person or not. The things I do and say. I have unsorted darkness in me and it's been leaking out to left and right these last few years or so. I can't control it. Oh well, I'll be stopping by soon again.

Never give up

I felt happy for two months before I started falling apart again. Somehow I wish I had done more to prolong that happiness, but instead I kept isolating myself, starved and disappeared into my computer. But I respect that, I respect that I was afraid to go all out at the risk of losing the little happiness I had instead of gaining more. Because stress is never a good thing when it comes to my mood.

But I haven't lost all hope, I guarantee you. I still hope and dream and almost kinda expect a better future now. Just almost on that last part, but it's better than it used to be before in my life. But I'm falling again, into the old and new dark places. I know I'm not meant to be happy, but I'm trying to beat the odds. I'd rather die trying than give up, you know. But I don't know how or what to do. I need to ask my shrink that, maybe she's got some advice.

Cause just trying not to do things isn't quite working anymore. I don't know why, but I fall into temptation and it's hard when I lose control. So many things upset me, everything from my acne to my inability to be a part of the society and all else in between. And being so easily upset upsets me even more.

It's like maybe my lack of eating habits is finally taking control over me. Being constantly hungry can make anyone upset. It's not the best thing trying to lose weight when you're feeling like shit, but when else am I gonna do it? It's in my state of mind, it is my mind to feel like shit. Whenever, wherever, all the time. I know I take risks by doing so, and I also know it's not recommended to starve at all.

I'm slowly developing an eating disorder and I just sit here and do nothing about it. Cause if I get an eating disorder I will definitely lose weight. And yes, I realise just how wrong that sounds. I'm not stupid, I know I'm taking huge risks by keeping this from my doctors. I keep fooling them, telling them I eat very little and try to lose weight but I don't tell them that I'm desperate to lose weight, obsessed by it, willing to do anything for it. About my very poor body image or that I'm pro-ana.

I play a twisted game with doctors, manipulating and fooling them to believe what I want them to believe. I'm not quite in my right mind. Cause I seek doctors to help me but then I don't let them help me. I've been in this carousel for too long, too long to know how to fool them. That I know they make the priorities about what I should get help for first and I don't like that. So I only tell them about what I want to get help for and keep the rest from them. If I wanted help for my eating problems I would gladly discuss that. If I didn't have to worry about telling them about my psychotic tendencies, I would gladly tell them about that too.

But they are just as much stuck in a rut as I am. They have their guidelines and rules to follow. To them, my self harm and suicidal tendencies come first, and my basic needs like food and sleep come second. Then the psychotic stuff seemed to have come third when I was open about that several years ago. My priorities is everything else. At every damn meeting there is truth I have to withhold, and it completely drains me, trying to figure out what to say in denial. I've had some practise, but I have no idea if I'm a good liar or not. Maybe it depends on who I'm lying to.

Open

I'm bored and can't think of anything to do or write about. Should look into my autobiography again. Been starting to write about last year. Since a lot of shit happened then I put it in a chapter for it alone. Dreading when I'll have to read it all (all of it) through and edit things, put the chapters in a decent order and see if I've missed something important or of there's something I want to delete. Probably gonna take me days. But I will finish it someday, I promise!

I don't intend to shock people with my story, but it might appear that way cause it's gonna be pretty graphic. I just want to get my story out. Though I'm not including absolutely everything, just as much as I'm comfortable with, and that is a lot.

Some people might not realise that, that I'm comfortable with sharing even my darker thoughts and things that I'm apparently supposed to be embarrassed over. I've always been like that, even when I was bullied I wasn't afraid of making a fool of myself. There are very few things that are too personal for me to discuss openly, or at all, and I can easily count them on one hand.

Some things that I've done, thought or felt. Things no one would even want to know about, or even if they would want to know they would most definitely not like it. Most of what I carry around is darkness with a few exceptions, but those things that I hide... they're pitch black.

Maybe that's just the way it is. That if I was more inhibited or cautious about how open I am, I would have less to hide, and the other way around. That maybe because I'm so comfortable being open about my trans identity, the rape I went through, self harm, mental illness, the bullying, suicide attempts and so on; I have to hide even darker things. Like no matter how open you are about your bad sides, you still have something that is even worse inside you that you don't want anyone else to know about.

No one is completely open because of this. We all have our levels of tolerance, like how much of our insides we can tolerate for the world to see. I happen to have very high tolerance, but I think that is only because I know I can draw the line further to easier hide what is really worth hiding. I'm not just talking law breaking, I'm talking really awful things.

Yeah, there is something that is nagging at me there, wanting to tell but it's like I just can't. Want to push that tolerance even further, be open about exactly everything. And then that crap just showed up from deep in my memories last summer, and I suddenly understood why I've always been a bit uncomfortable around cops. I've been good these last few years at least, so I don't have anything to hide from then on... So yeah, that recent. 2011 I think. My god, what the fuck was up with that year!?

Some years of my life, just saying. Those are: 1998, 2002, 2005, 2007, 2009, 2011 and 2013. I'm starting to see a pattern... so what atrocities are gonna happen to me next year then? There's always something new that sort of strikes me like a lighting from a clear sky, so with a little anticipation I'll look forward to 2015 to see what more crap I'll be getting. Yes, I said anticipation. I'm ambivalent about my future.

But as I said, I'm open about almost everything. I'm comfortable talking about things people don't want to hear. I discuss deeply personal stuff at the dinner table. I'm the one who opens up at a party even before I get my first drink. The only reason I've been holding back IRL lately is because I know people become uncomfortable with me sharing absolutely everything like it's perfectly normal. I'm trying to add in some decency in my life, though I'm not a very decent person and I don't live a very decent life.

Wow, this became a very long entry about openness. The bottom line is that I don't know where to draw the line. Of what is okay or not okay to share about my life. I never tell other people's secrets or even things that I don't know if they are secret or not. You just have my trust completely even if we're just acquaintances. I will take your secrets with me to the grave.

It's when it comes to myself that I just can't keep my mouth shut. It shouldn't be a problem - cause how the hell can being so very open about oneself be a problem? - but it is. Not necessarily a problem I'll take into consideration, but still. People can be embarrassed because of me or even ask me to shut up. Sorry guys, but it's my fucking life and if you don't want to hear it, just shut your fucking ears.

Worth living for

I wish the crew would stop complimenting my hair. Seriously, they've been doing that almost constantly from when I started bleaching it in January. Sure I like getting a compliment every so often, but this is getting ridiculous. What are they trying to achieve? Making me indescribably happy?

I started to scratch myself uncontrollably under the bandage early this morning, half not aware of what I was doing. Not supposed to do that, and I know that in an awaken state, but it's different when I'm half asleep.

I do all sorts of things that I wouldn't normally do then. It's strange, but also understandable. That I'm less inhibited in a way. But it's annoying when I do things that might interfere with the healing process.

My muscles are sore after yesterday's work out. It's annoying and the part I dislike most about exercising. Not quite enjoying it the way most people seem to do. So I'm gonna take it easy today, just gonna have a little walk soon enough. Need to buy vegetables, bread and cigarettes. Mostly it hurts in my shoulders and arms, so a walk couldn't possibly hurt. Not that it would either way though.

But despite the pain it still feels good to finally have gotten myself to the gym. Only took me about three years... Seriously, I think the last time I set my foot in such a place was in Gottsunda during 2011. But then I lived in my parents' house for a year after that, and there were no gyms or likewise facilities nearby. And then I just talked about it for almost two years.

I really hope I'll keep this up now and not get lazy again. As of now my motivation is on top, but of course it can change with time. So hoping it won't. I just won't allow myself to give up again, cause I so need to live now. More than just being alive, I need to actually live my life. It would be so pointless otherwise. Like just wasting air instead of using it, or taking up space instead of needing it.

Living without hopes must be the most painful thing I've ever experienced. What people say isn't possible, that you'd always have hopes left if you're still breathing, but it's not true. I'm living proof that isn't true. But now I have hopes, lots of hopes and dreams and goals in life. Still scared to fail them, still overly cautious about them and always watching my step so that I won't shatter them. But they keep me alive, cause now I depend on them.

A good way to start

I'm a bit distracted. Get into imaginary conversations already though I just woke up. Have a sensation this will be a busy day. If my mind is so clear and intense already, I mean.

It looks warm and sunny outside, a nice day for a walk. For my daily walk. I start with a walk right after my morning coffee these days. Well, my mornings tend to happen at any time of the day. Morning for me is first two or so hours after I wake up; whether it's actually morning, noon or afternoon.

Getting dressed, start my computer, have a coffee and one or two cigarettes, then a fast and short walk around half the block. It's about three or four houses that I walk around and it takes a couple of minutes or so. I think it's effective cause it makes me wake up and stop yawning and stretching uncontrollably.

I have another appointment at the district health care centre May 7th and I need to tell them that this surgical tape is starting to irritate my skin. I've worn such tape every night and day for almost two months now and I think my skin needs to breathe.

I didn't think I'd say this, but I want my dead nipples to fall off now so it can heal faster so that I won't need to wear that tape over them all the time anymore. I want to be free of it, even if that means ugly scars. The scars aren't gonna be pretty anyway, so.

I remember that at the first meeting with the surgeon I was intended to have to begin with, in August, I said that I have no problem with getting more scars. Feels like I have to eat my words now...

Okay, just had my walk. It's even warmer than I thought it was, and my leather jacket was too warm. Used the five step stair up to my apartment floor as a little exercise as well. Walked them up and down a few times. Stairs are good.

Dreading that I have to start eating again when I want to start building muscles. I know you can't starve and expect muscle gain, I've seen and heard of what happens then. You just lose weight and it's restraining and not very rewarding the way you want it to be. If I was way thinner it would eat at my muscles instead of me gaining them, but since I still have a lot of fat to take of (I might not be fat, but my percent of body fat is quite high for a guy of my size) it will most likely just make me lose more of that. My BMI is at 22,7 so it's very much a normal weight for my height. (19-25 is that normal range).

Of course I wanna get thinner, but that is not the way to get toned, if you know what I mean. There's a difference in how to do it depending on what results you want to achieve. I'm not completely clueless. So I don't just have to change what I'm eating, I have to start eating something altogether. I'll look into that later.

Though since I do want to lose more weight I think I can with success make a gradation to eating more and exercise more over time. Start with condition work out while I'm still barely eating should make me lose weight fast, and then start eating more and more as I move on to more heavy exercise. Good deal? That way I won't shock my body into new routines either. At least that is my vague plan just so that I know where to start.

I kinda wanna start right away, but of course the gym is closed today. Tomorrow at 17:00, I'll be there! They're only open between 16:30 and 20:00 so I can't really go there earlier. I'm "solving" the locker room hassle by going there already changed and then I go home for the shower. It's only a ten minutes walk to there so it won't be a problem.

I want to have a hard time explaining why I look so fit to my surgeon at our follow up in the summer. Like he would explain that I wasn't supposed to start with that until later and I'll act like I don't understand why he would accuse me for doing that. I don't know, I could be wrong about that though. I'm just not gonna ask.

Changes

Slept fairly well tonight. Apart from the dreams about embarrassing conversations, illegal immigrants, molested nuns and a guy torturing someone.

So how long am I gonna have nightmares for? It feels like I don't really get any rest from sleeping, like I wake up exhausted in need for some real rest. Though I know that they reflect the fears that I carry. Fears for the present and the future.

What are my fears? I'm not sure. But I think it's about the complications after my surgery, of not passing, of never being able to be anywhere close to happy, about dying. Those are the general, I suppose. The biggest fears that haunt me today.

Anxiety about what may or may not happen. How things will turn out and how long it's gonna take, what is out of my power. I rarely fear what is in my power to change, things that I can change. I'm willing to change now, just give me the possibility to do that.

It's like I think I have the means, but not able to use them. Like I know what to do but have to wait until I can do it. The thought has occurred to me, that maybe I'm willing to take the risks and start anyway, without waiting. Cause I've waited too damn long already.

We'll see what I'll do, if I can figure it out. Cause I've gotta change, while the energy is still in me, before I collapse and give up again. I don't want to allow that to happen, but it's not that simple. It just happens, you know. And I want to remember this year as the year when I finally turned things around. Yes, this year, not the next or the one after that.

If that means beating odds or risking things, I don't care. So be it. There are always risks, with everything that is worth fighting for. But is my life worth fighting for? Well, technically it's the only thing I have to fight for, and that's enough of a reason. I'm done waiting.

Things fall into place

My mother just called me and said she had talked to the team in Huddinge about getting a next meeting with them by the summer. I didn't really think about it, but I'm soon done with this journey. Gonna think a bit about if I should get sterilised too and remove all that junk inside me, but then I'm pretty much done.

Cause yeah, I have thought about getting bottom surgery, but honestly I don't think I need it. I don't really have dysphoria about my junk and it's not like it's something I show around, so to say. It stays in the private and I'm okay with what I have. And besides, it's a bit unnecessary to have surgery if it's not all that important.

So then it's just to report to Rättsliga Rådet and hope they'll accept me to have my sex legally changed and those last four digits in my personal identity number changed as well. Damn. I've been in this mix for so long I had almost lost hope in ever getting done with it!

I remember when I went to a meeting with the team in Uppsala for the first time and had got the information that it would take bout 2-3 years altogether before I can become legally male. Now here I am 4 and a half years later and can't really believe it. I had lost hope to ever come this far more times than I can count and my life depends on it.

I'm starting to feel free in a whole new way. To talk with the deep voice I always wanted, to feel the beard growth that came along just about ten years too late, to be referred to as "he" and it still brings a special kind of smile to my lips, when people think it's obvious that I'm a guy, just that I don't have to bleed once every month which brought a terrible dysphoria every single time, and now when I soon won't need to hide my chest and feeling that constant discomfort ruining everything.

That relief, it's like coming home, to a place that I no longer hate. I don't hate myself and I don't hate my body. I might hate my fucked up mind from time to time, but that's another story. Today it doesn't suck being transsexual, it's a part of me, of who I was, and I will soon be able to put that behind me and just be me. Your typical goth, gay, mentally fucked up guy with a colourful past. It does sound good in my ears, comparing to how I would describe myself before.

To be perfectly honest, I sometimes asked myself just why this is so important to me, just knowing that it's the foundation that I stand on. With so many other problems still making it impossible for me to live a normal life, no matter if I have tits or not. But now I so clearly understand.

I might still be a dark chaos, but I stand more firmly on the ground with it. And I have a chance to give life a try. Now I can finally start working towards living a decent life. I finally have a reason to live. And that is a lot. Happy tears coming now...

Skin tight

I've always believed, but it still surprises me. I do this ritual thingy every day before I go to bed, to make my beard growth increase, beyond what the hormones can do. And now... I think it's actually working. Side effects: more acne, itching and slight skin irritation. I look at my hands for only a moment, trembling. The power in them, it makes the skin feel weird, as if it was the skin itself holding that power.

Only a small part of me can't understand how this can be real, though the most of me has always taken my magic powers for granted. I'm a demon warlock incarnate, what else can be expected? Yet, I'm still surprised. The natural laws here have bound me for so long, that this feels like break through. A small one, but still a break through.

What I would be able to do if this goes the way I want it to. Suddenly, a lot of opportunities open up, and I will be taking on bigger projects in changing the way I look. Not just hair and eyes and skin, but re-shaping my so very hated curves. I don't know if it could be possible, I don't know just how much power I have. It will certainly be worth a try or two though, in the future. I don't wanna get drained, since it's kinda a bad time for that, with the up coming surgery and stuff. Shit, I'm seriously vain...

But will I make people believe in me? Perhaps a little demonstration to prove them wrong? Uh-uh, not gonna happen. I don't even talk about it, I might have just mentioned it briefly at one point or another, but I definitely don't brag or show off. That's not what I want. But if this really will work and have the outcome I plan for it, it will be obvious. 



Oh, and sixth round of bleaching my hair, by the way. Will post pictures later, along with pictures from my fifth round that I did a couple of weeks ago, but never made it to the internet.

I believe in ghosts

I think I'm becoming psychic again. Or more attuned perhaps. I can foretell small things, like with the Spotify queue lists, or things in WoW that are completely randomised (like a roll the dice sort of things). And I know how long time things will take, like a telephone queue that you haven't been told in which order you stand. Also I get these feelings that it's something, rather weird or seemingly pointless, that I "have to" do, and it turns out to have been a very good choice. I don't find it freaky, rather it's thrilling and nice.

One more thing that just "happened". A friend of mine texted me on Facebook and I looked at their profile picture and thought to myself that they should change their profile picture. A couple of hours later they did. Some day I might start seeing ghosts as well, but if I do it's probably time to check myself into an mental hospital. Or try to communicate with them. Lots of Schizophrenics claim to be interacting with ghosts, or spirits...

What I can't control

I've recently figured out that I'm a bit of a control freak. But at the same time I have no control to begin with. I think they are related though, rather than opposing. That because I feel I have no control over anything, I have this insane need to find that control. Cause it scares me, just how out of control my whole life is. That I can't even control what to eat, when to sleep, my self harm addictions, my (in)ability to function in society. I'm trying to reverse it, to gain the control I've never had.

*

I just asked myself: what do I most fear? and the answer I came up with was: being this miserable for the rest of my days. But in that case I don't have anything to fear, right? Fearing something that already is to continue, isn't that rather about enduring and not being willing to accept things as they are? I really have nothing to lose in that sense, cause I don't fear losing something. I fear not gaining something.

*

When I woke up this morning it was from a dream. In the dream my teeth were falling out one at a time because I had not taken care of them for a long time. It was so realistic. Abruptly I awakened and instantly yelled out: "That's it, I'm gonna start brushing my teeth more often!" My dreams are like that now. Super intense and so realistic that they wake me up instantly and as a result I'm either horrified, inspired, disgusted, heavily confused, angry or sad to tears. Usually I'm additionally yelling something out, anything from a simple shriek to a whole conversation with myself. It's a bit disturbing to say the least.

The bridge between my dreams and the awaken world is shattering, blurred. Somehow I'm worried that one day I won't be able to wake up from those nightmares, that they will continue after I wake up, forever. I don't even know if that's possible, but in my world, absolutely anything is possible. I believe in everything, you know? Including literally getting stuck in an eternal nightmare.

Hopes and hopelessness

I had a meeting with my psychiatrist today, and she said she'd call the hospital in Huddinge to try and find out what's going on over there. Cause I haven't heard as much as a whisper since I was there in August and I've been climbing on the walls for quite a while now. The worst is not the waiting, it's not knowing how long I should be waiting for. It's not certain she'll reach the right person over the phone, or if they would tell her anything, or if they even have anything to tell her. Worth a try though.

It's like I'm playing "catch me if you can" with sleep itself. Making the frightening chase into a chaotic, potentially dangerous, self destructive game. A competition of hours, another obsession, a fucking achievement.

Though, it lets me think of something else, focus my mind off my main obsession for a little while. My crush. Cause thinking of him is getting more and more painful each passing day. Knowing that he's so far away both literally and figuratively makes it harder and harder to cope, as I'm slowly realising how impossible my dreams are. I knew this would happen sooner or later, I just wished it could have been later.

This sadness is growing bigger inside me. A little more today than it was yesterday, and it was more yesterday than the day before that. It's a heavy, calm sadness like a soft dark veil swept over my face. Not the brutal, numbing sadness that brings endless amounts of tears and low self esteem. Though I do cry quite a lot, but only when provoked and often while watching a movie or reading something sad. Like twenty times a day... I also isolate more, cause I don't want to face the world outside.

I look at the world with more gloomy eyes, a bitter frown at the colours of the nature around the corner. I smile a fake smile when someone points out a cute animal before my eyes, as dark thoughts ravage my head and I couldn't care less about the creature. I have to bite my tongue to not let out all of my negative thoughts and pessimistic views on my so called future.

Cause I need for people to know that I still keep my hopes up, it's just that I can't express them any longer. For what I hope for and what I believe will happen isn't the same thing.

The happiness I've never known

Why was I never happy, not even in my early childhood? Of all the things I envy from other people, I most of all envy that no matter how sad or happy they are now, they were happy once before. What do I know of happiness? I've never felt it, never been able to reach out and touch it with my finger tips, never even seen it in the distance. I've heard others talk about it, seen other experience it, showing their happiness to the world.

Now I'm not talking about that fairy tale sort of happiness, I'm talking about the every day kind of happiness. Getting up in the morning and not wanting to just stay in the bed forever every day of your life. Having dinner with your loved ones without thinking about your past or future suicide attempts. Going for a night out with your best friends without five minutes later sneaking in to the bathroom to cut yourself. Being able to stay in a moment of happiness, it might last for hours or just a few minutes, without constantly feeling the darkness hanging over you. Cause I wonder what that is like.

Sometimes I dream, fantasise about what a happy life could be like. A normal life with a tolerable amount of anxiety. But the thing is, I don't fit into that picture. I end up fantasising about someone else's life.

The thing is, not a day goes by without me thinking about suicide. Not just about doing it, and rarely any actual plans. Most it's just vague things. Like pictures flashing by, and I don't even know if it's me in those pictures. I make associations to suicide from movies and tv-show episodes that really aren't depicting suicide. For example, some character might talk about being thirsty, and I instantly start thinking about what killing yourself by drowning could be like. Or I could just be smoking a cigarette, one of those 40 something a day, and wonder if I could kill myself just by smoking in my bed.

The thought creeps in at any given moment, several times a day, hardly with me knowing it before hand. Anything, absolutely anything can make me start thinking about it. I'm trying to figure out when this started. But I think that it's always been this way, just more often the older I've gotten. I think it increased after my first suicide attempt, in January 2005. The first time I really wanted to kill myself I was 12, so that might have been when these thoughts started, but the topic had been on my mind far before that. I was the suicidal child that no one took seriously. Well, at such an early age as 6 I had no idea how to even go through with it. I didn't know what was lethal or not. That took some time to figure out.

I really didn't figure that out until just a few years ago. Of course I knew the principles long before that, but it wasn't until I was maybe 20 or 21 that I found out just how deep you need to cut, or just how big an overdose it's required.

Apart from me being suicidal like forever, I haven't always been unhappy in it's general term. Just tormented. I've had too much on my mind, too many feelings in my heart, too much longing in my soul. I think that maybe my memories of Dala has made me an unhappy person. That clinging to them, wishing I had never come here, always comparing Dala to this world, has made me incapable of truly enjoying anything in this life. Cause no matter how good things are, they were always better in Dala.

Yes, I have thought about that before. Even wished that I could take it all away, all those memories and start over without them. I don't wish for Dala to never have happened, I just wish that my reincarnation was more like other people's reincarnations: without any memories of it. Cause I think that then I wouldn't have had something so much better to compare with. Then I would have given this life a chance.

Cause that has been a problem. I never gave this life even the slightest bit of a chance. Ever since I discovered about my reincarnation, somewhere around age 4 to 6, I can't remember before 5-6, but my mother told me about my first suicidal thoughts at the age of 4. Ever since then all I wanted was to throw this life away. For somehow I discovered that by dying I would be able to return to my "real home" as I said back then.

A thing my mother told me just the other day or so, about a "Monroe Institute". A guy that remembered a past life much like mine. He described it as our (human kind) place of creation, our first home, where we all come from. A place of perfection and harmony. Well, just hearing about another person remembering what could most likely be the exact same place, kinda blew my mind! He's dead now, unfortunately, but I've been meaning to check out that website my mother mentioned.

I still cling to Dala, but as of lately I've been trying to let go. It feels like I need to let go in order to grasp this life that I'm living right now. Trying not to think about it so much, trying to move on. I should of course have done that many years ago, but it's so close to my heart, it's like it is every essence of my soul. And my soul is screaming, yearning, aching, bleeding to return. It's hard to ignore those heart tearing wishes that's been solely the number one reason for almost all of my suicide attempts. And I don't even know if I'll be able to return.

That is how strong those feelings can be, so strong that I'm sometimes ready to just throw away this life forever, even though I don't know if I would return to Dala. 50/50 and I take the bet, sort of. But most of the time, all that long time between suicide attempts, I don't want to take that chance. However, that is how strongly I still cling to Dala. Ready to kill myself for a childhood fantasy land.

So there was where it all started, so young that my very first memories hadstarted to take form. I shut myself away from the world, didn't want to be a part of it. It was a pretty good defence mechanism as I was bullied from my first year of school. I was antisocial, hated humanity and didn't want so called friends. I liked to keep my distance, until I started to like my future best friend. Realising she was one of few who didn't hate me, one of few who wanted to hang out with me.

I don't know for sure if she was the one who brought me out of my bubble, or if I just invited her into it. Maybe bits of both, cause when I started to train karate in a different town I really had started to crawl out from that bubble. And that was also when I first started to let go of Dala. I don't remember feeling unhappy in my 7th grade, maybe that was as close to happy as I've ever been. Before things started to fall apart again.

It's really gone up and down since then, but mostly down. I wasn't comparing so much with Dala as of what I can remember, didn't wanna think about it. Life fucked me over, but it wasn't because of my way absent past. I had lost faith in myself a long time ago, and almost invited bad people into my life. I'd rather something bad happened than nothing at all. Yes, I remember saying that when I was 14 or 15, and I'm not saying any of the horrible things I went through was my own fault. I'm mostly thinking about the rape, but not exclusively. I've never blamed myself for his despicable deed, but was it entirely on him?

I'm just saying that if I was confident and even cared about protecting myself, it's likely it never would have happened.

I was skilled in self defence and had been warned about creeps like him and that exact situation. Don't follow strange men home. Yet I did. It was even my own suggestion. It was like I didn't even care, like I invited it. But then it all went wrong of course, or it would have been a one night stand instead of a rape. But I did have it in the back of my mind. I did have it in the back of my mind already in the moment I asked if we could go to his place. I thought that there was a risk of rape if I went home with him. That's what I'm talking about. So it's not my fault that he raped me, but it's very much my own bloody fault that I ended up in his apartment. I'm smiling about this, so don't worry. I can be an idiot sometimes and years later I'm smiling at my own dumb choices. Practically over it by now.

After that, of course, I fell some more into my despair. Just months later I ended up with my first actual boyfriend, and we were happy to begin with. I was in love, so very much in love, and he loved me too. I had never had that before, and sadly, never again after. But that happiness only lasted a few months before he also became one of those creeps I had been warned about. The manipulative kind of men who wants to literally own their partner. Decide what I should eat, wear, weigh, do and who I was allowed to see and not. It took several months for me to muster breaking up with him, thought he could change. And I broke his heart but he broke mine too.

Shortly after our break up I re-realised the transgender stuff and I don't know if that brought me up or down. There was too much going on already, but that realisation couldn't have come a day too early. But some things got harder, I had to defend myself and my human rights all the damn time and dating became a hell. But at least I was myself, I was finally true to myself.

Once again I end up summarising my whole life, as if I didn't know about it already. As if I could ever stop obsessing about my own tragic life. It hasn't only been bad, but the bad out weighs the good and the negative feelings have always been so much stronger. The hell that I've been through, the hell between me and Anna, the hell between me and the world around me. That even if I try my best and hardest I end up failing, I crash on the concrete aching and bleeding. But I don't give up.

For some reason, despite all the chaos and darkness, I still fight and try to do better next time. I know that if I search long enough I will find what I'm looking for. In the end, and in the long run that is what I truly believe. And I have nothing, absolutely nothing to support that belief. That's why I don't think that I'm depressed, and perhaps I never even was. It's something else, all the other negative emotions except for sadness.

A common misconception is that you have to be depressed if you truly want to kill yourself. It's not true. It is believed to be the most common reason for suicide, but not the one reason alone. I've got enough reason and more. Missing Dala, hating the person living inside my head day and night, lovesickness, feeling incomplete and broken, being stuck in a limbo, anxiety, hating my body and so on. I've got reasons, but I'm not depressed. I want to die, but I'm not unhappy, not overwhelmed with sadness.

Being happy isn't just about happiness. I don't think that just by adding something to my life, that would make me happy. I already have too much to carry, and I don't think I will ever get rid of any of that. That is why I don't think I will ever be happy. It's not about what I don't have, it's what I already have.