Laughing at this cruel fucking joke

I dunno what just hit me but suddenly I just felt like a wave of sadness from out of nowhere and like the life force was sucked out of me. Like someone just blew out a candle light within me. I dunno why, or what caused that feeling. It's really not nice and I thought maybe if I write about it a bit I could figure it out. I dunno though.

I started a new drawing but stopped it after not even 10 minutes cause I couldn't focus on it at all and felt no motivation what so ever. I can't write on my story either. I just really, really wanna create something but I can't. It makes me feel so empty. Like I've lost some really important part of myself that I really need to feel better, and I've already lost too much. I know my creativity isn't gone forever though, but I still hate that it's temporarily gone. It causes a chafing restlessness within me that can't get out. And I don't need that feeling on top of everything else.

I feel so disconnected to everything that life is. Everything. Like I'm just barely even here, barely interacting with the world, and barely interacting with myself even. I don't know if that's dissociation or just depression. My sadness is really tearing at me. I don't think this like "clinical depression" but rather the kind of depressed you get when you go through something in life that is very hard to go through. Like if you'd lose your home or a job you really love, that might make you feel like utter shit and like you have depression but it's not the mental illness kind, but caused by external circumstances. I've had that a lot in my life, and here I have it again.

I guess... maybe I feel defeated by life. That I tried so hard to make life better for myself and it was going so well... but then detransition happened and it just completely killed my spirit and I feel like I've lost a lot of progress. I can't take care of myself or my home cause my feelings are just constantly choking me and making me incapable of doing anything that's even the slightest bit productive.

I took a shower late yesterday evening, around midnight. And it was so hard... I didn't know my chest grief/dysphoria had gotten so bad until I stepped into the shower thinking nothing of it. I couldn't touch my chest, couldn't look at it. I couldn't keep my arms far enough from it. It weighed so heavily on me. I could barely even wash myself. It hasn't been this bad since before my top surgery. And it saddens me so much that I used to feel exactly the same kind of bad about my chest with boobs before the op, as I do now almost 5 years after the op. Like I literally got back to square one. But now missing my boobs so badly I can't... I just can't... function.
I wrote in a comment in a facebook group about that: "Last time I felt this bad about my chest was before the op. Oh sigh." Cause what else can I do but just sigh at this misery?

The breast forms barely help at all now, but without them I get a literal panic attack and break down completely, so I need to wear them for whatever little comfort they can give me. I've started wearing them with a regular sports bra while just at home. It helps giving my chest and back a break from the much harder mastectomy bras, but the tiddies don't stay in place well in them. They overlap at the middle a lot which gives an annoying and unsightly "mono boob" look, even in mastectomy bras, but much more so in a regular sprts bra. I think it's because they're too wide across my chest. They're like a soft triangular/cone shape and that "bottom" width is too wide for my tiny chest, so they keep getting pushed towards the centre, and overlap. I should probably get myself properly fitted for actual breast prosthetics so I can get something of a size and shape that actually fits my chest, and not this pair which is probably made for huge drag queens... ugh. Well that's why they were cheap!

I jus don't know if I could get fitted for prosthetics because of both reasons that my mastectomy was my own stupid choice (and not cause of cancer, etc) and because I'm looking into getting a reconstruction as soon as possible. But I'd still likely end up being stuck with prosthetics as my only comfort for like a year from now. And I can't imagine a breast doctor or plastic surgeon or whoever would outright DENY me just getting fitted for a pair that I could then pay for myself. Cause I really doubt I could get that kind of cost covered, considering they usually cost between 100 and 400 euro, for a pair. I wouldn't go above 200 though, I think. But if I'm desperate and dysphoric enough, I might. Cause maybe that's one of the things that make me struggle more with the boobs now... cause they don't act like real boobs and that just annoys me and reminds me of my brokenness. Cause my false limbs don't sit right! Gah! I mean, that, if anything, really makes them feel false, you know...

I'm gonna need to buy one of those fluffy shower sponges so I can clean my chest without directly putting my hands on it, and possibly shower in the dark as well. This feels like a defeat and maybe that feeling from last night's shower is what's lingering and tearing at me. Cause usually showering makes me feel better cause it's soothing and all, but not that time. It was terribly dysphoria-inducing and made me feel utterly horrible.

Am I making any progress at all or am I falling apart? Cause it feels more like the latter now. I just wanna lie down and cry, but I can't. My head hurts, I'm hungry but I can't eat anything at all cause my sadness is killing off what little appetite I once had.

Also my favourite comic magazine and only one I like reading (Nemi) is gonna stop existing, or stop getting published sometime around spring or summer next year. That saddened me too. What else am I gonna read when I'm waiting for food stuff to get done in the kitchen? I don't know, I don't care. I don't feel anything.

Maybe this wave of sadness was just all those little things gathering up together into a lump that infested my mood and killed it.

Some days ago or I don't recall when, I read a few random texts by random people here and there that made me think as well. It was stuff like... trans people thinking detransition would be "too late" for them cause of how far they had gone in transition (but not actually wanting to detrans, just fearing it), some trans woman who decided to detrans only because she lost her boobs to cancer, and some ignorant person on youtube saying hurtful shit about how much of an idiot I was to transition. I dunno, maybe that got to me too. Or more than I first thought it did.

It both makes me think like... how can anyone let their physical situation stop them from living the way they see is their truth? And how can they not understand that for me staying true to myself matters so much more... even though it hurts like getting run over by a truck and being left to bleed to death. I had no other choice... it makes me so upset, that I had no other choice. Cause I couldn't continue living as a man knowing I'm a woman and loving being one... but I can't enjoy being a woman in this mess either. I was stuck with two utterly terrible choices. Like lose your body or lose your mind, what's better? Well I chose my mind.

I just feel more and more broken, more and more lost and disconnected from my body. I don't know why, cause I like it getting less hairy and slowly more feminised again, and I like that I got my periods back, I'm looking forward to getting more and more womanly-looking again and I am getting closer in that direction but at the same time I'm feeling worse. Perhaps I just zoom in on what hasn't changed yet. Or... perhaps it could be that since my mind has changed to a lot more feminine again on the returning estrogen, I react more distressed towards my male traits? Well I think it might make sense, in a way. I dunno though, consider it a loose theory.

But also, my mood swings have been incredibly insane today. Like literally laughing my ass off every other minute and then feeling super sad every other minute. It's a mess, and yeah I'll talk to my doc about that on Monday as I have an appointment with him then. I haven't had this bad mood swings since I started my meds for that, like 3 years ago. And it's pretty obviously my hormones causing this change, and not my borderline personality disorder. Actually, estrogen was never a good combination with that disorder and the testosterone helped with a lot of my symptoms of it... so well yeah let's see how crazy the return of my estrogen will make me again then!

I guess I just feel so beaten trying to live as a tit-less, hairy woman with a beard and deep voice that I'm just... I feel freaked out by my own looks and horrified by what the mirror shows me. I don't see a woman. I see mutilation and sadness. I feel disgusted and sad, and I just can't cope with it. I realise that I've literally never felt at peace with my body or like it reflects me gender-wise, and now it just fucking flipped in my detransing from one kind of gender-discomfort to another and I just... fuck, will I ever be able to find that peace? If so, how much and how long will it take? Will I ever be done transitioning in one way or another? I started at age 19 and I won't be done before 30... maybe 32 if I'm lucky. I just wasted my entire 20's being miserable about my body and altering it medically for no good reason. What a fucking waste. I'm so sick of all this gender-chaos, I need a fucking break. A vacation. Just something nice. Can I just borrow another female body that is whole, just for a little while, so I can get a little peaceful break to regain my strength? And play with the tiddies? Nah? Fucking thought so.

I wrote this comment reply to a post in an fb group where a trans guy was venting about still not being able to pass at some 1,5 year on testo, that the only change he's gotten so far is face- and body hair. I at first thought I was just being solidary but then kinda realised my situation is probably worse... but anyhow:

"I was reallly disappointed by my T changes as well, back in my transition when I thought of myself as a man and had what I thought was dysphoria. Except from that I did get a deep voice, I had the exact same issues as you. My body shape remained very curvy, my face shape didn't change. The only changes that could be noticed were voice and hair. I was stuck in an androgynous state, and didn't pass until almost 3 years on T.

Here's what made me pass: being able to grow a decent looking beard (learning how to trim and style it well helped, and yes your beard will continue to fill out, it takes some 3-4 years at least), dressing myself in very thought-out ways that gave the illusion my body had a much more masculine shape, changing my mannerisms and body language to appear more stereotypically male, and pretend I was confident. People automatically read me as male then, but it took a lot of work.

As you don't have the deep voice which I got, I'd suggest doing voice training additionally as well. If you can't get it deeper, just changing flow and tone can help really a lot (I got that advice from mtf's who struggle to get their voices to sound higher.) Yeah I was dysphoric while naked but at least I could pass while dressed. My hip-fat dysphoria that the T couldn't change the looks of even caused me an eating disorder, which I'm recovered from now, but it was hard back then. Sometimes hrt doesn't give us what we want and disappointment follows. It sucks, undoubtedly.

But the irony of it all for me, is that now in my detransition I struggle to pass as female instead. I get gendered male about 70% of the time irl, and I can't even figure out why. Probably cause I can't fully hide my facial hair, though. Cause I worked so hard and for so long to pass as male so I could feel better and live a decent life, but then I ended up realising I never even had dysphoria and am really a woman, but now I can't pass as female instead. It makes me feel like... I'm too sad to cry about it so I'm just gonna laugh at this cruel fucking joke instead. Sometimes we're just dealt really shitty cards in life, huh? Well, I feel that a lot. So I think you're allowed to complain."

And I dunno but that gave me a lot of heavy feels. I don't think I've until now in my detransing thought about just how much I struggled to pass as male, then finally managed after really a lot of hard work and dealing with my eating disorder and feeling like it was just all hopeless I could never look like I wanted to... passed well for some 4 years... and then this. It feels like a huge blow in my gut. That I tried so fucking hard to find peace and look good and just live a decent fucking life cause I thought I was a trans man... to only 4 years later realise I had been completely wrong all along and now I can't fucking pass as female.

It really does make me too sad to cry. Like it's just baffling how incredibly unfair it is. And it makes me feel like I just wanna give up. What's the point in trying to pass when it literally never works and what's the point in trying to look pretty when people keep treating me like I'm a monster? It's just getting harder and harder to make myself leave the house. I don't want to. I don't wanna be seen by anyone. Least of all myself but not by anyone else either. I just wanna stay inside for months or even years unless I'll start feeling better.

Maybe I wanna try a more neutral style for a while and see if that feels better. Wear a scarf over my head. Can't be bothered with wigs, they piss me off. I don't have the energy to try to fix them up and they are all in need of fixing. Fix fix fix fuck it! But I know I'd rather wear a paper bag over my head, that covers my face too. Just two small holes for eyes and one hole for my mouth so I can smoke. But wearing that would surely get me the wrong kind of attention too...

I don't know what I want to do with my looks. Cause I think it's really just my dysphoria itself that makes me feel like crap in public, even when I'm not getting misgendered. Like I just keep expecting it to happen and it keeps me constantly tense and on edge. And I don't want a more neutral style. Well on some days maybe, but not like always or in general. Mostly I'm just sick of having to spend so much time and energy on hiding my stupid beard before I can leave the house. It takes me at least 2 hours to just get ready the simplest way I can and I just feel like... to hell with it! I'm sick of it! Like if I have to keep doing that for every single time I wanna go outside.... man I dunno how much longer I can keep it up. Like how much longer I can force myself through that frustrating ritual until I'll just stop answering the phone and just refuse to leave the house altogether. Cause it's gonna hit a breaking point eventually. I just know that.

Silver sky

Reap the dreams that cannot be
some are fragile and linger hastily to be free
drawn upon the sky like silver dust
blow on them gently if you must

Awaiting the last prayer to reach the limit
bending at the horizon, to slowly dim it
yearning like a last drawn out howl against the moon
my echoes stray but they leave too soon

All of my heartbeats gathered up into one
I said it's for a final spurt, not the whole run
I'm yearning to meet his eyes, distracted by the light
too scared to close in, I'm haunted by my night

Of all the stages I've folded to reach the center of my heart
there's too many corners, hesitating at every start
oh, but how did I come to this point and reach this far
standing on a porch with him as we're filling our lungs with tar

See through my pain only to find more
and in my desire a fever for his forbidden lore
my wanting hesitantly wrapping around our pre-existing bond
failing to understand the implications of what lies beyond

I nearly reach out, so weakened by my own leaning
but pull back at last second; all words have their meaning
and I cry inconsolable for the dreams that cannot be
cruelly they linger hastily, awaiting to be set free

And in my silence I stare into the void
at all the dreams I've already destroyed
now they're all drawn upon the sky like silver dust
so gaze upon their graveyard if you must

My heart's heavy burden

This is worse than anxiety, cause that I could control or manage through various self destructive means. But this... this sadness completely overwhelms me and I can't do anything about it. It feels like I'm drowning and like I don't know how to swim.

I just sit here and stare at a picture of K, just gaze into his still and lifeless eyes. For a fraction of a second, he looked in to that camera, then posted that picture and then no more. It's a moment of the past now, and how I cling to and hold on to the past. When things were better. When we used to talk, almost every day.

And now there's been a month without as much as one word from him. I've tried to talk to him, I've said things; nice things, compliments, just wondering how he is, just saying hi, stuff like that; but he never once replied back to me. I don't know what to do. Tomorrow it's exactly a month since our last conversation.

I feel like a ghost, lost without his presence. I keep wanting my cigarettes to last forever and I hate this pain inside my heart. Is it breaking, is it breaking once again? Please, I just need to hold on a little longer. And I swear, that if he ever talks to me again, I'm gonna cry real tears for I have missed him more than I can even begin to fathom.

I cannot cry, my heart has forgotten how. Because sadness is such a crucial part of my life, shedding tears has become pointless. I have no tears left to cry, and I don't know why. Forgive me my love, but if you leave me, I cannot stay.

Seeing clear

I don't wish to be happy. Is that weird of me? I want an interesting life worth living, that's all. And love, I want true love, but that isn't the same as happiness. I'd miss my sadness if I'd lose it and I don't want to lose it over something as boring as happiness. What has happiness ever brought anyone?

I believe there could lie some kind of wisdom in that statement, that I don't want happiness because I don't think I could learn anything from it. I've had happiness. Not in this life, but I've sure had it and after thousands of years or at least hundreds, what did I ever learn from it? Nada.

I've never thought about it this way before, why am I so damn slow? Of course that is why I can't be happy in this life! I took the crash course to learn about being (or trying to be) human, I haven't got time for fluffy jolly feelings. I'm not meant for it. I'm meant for suffering because it's through suffering that we learn. I might be ancient, but I'm not omniscient. Not by far, and I don't think I ever will be. But it's a work in progress, so to say. The meaning of my entire existence. It's that simple, it's that hard.

And maybe it's one heck of a realisation, that I don't even want happiness. That one thing that everyone is supposed to want more than anything. I seek wisdom, knowledge, a deeper understanding of things above everything but love.

Happiness is just a feeling, a state of mind. How can it be an experience worth dying for, worth living for? When there's so much more? And I know that I want to keep this eating disorder because of what I could learn from it. I want the experience, I want the pain and I want to be close to dying from it.

My prophecy tells me that I won't die from it, I already know how I'm going to die. I've known that for 10 years now. At the time 15:22 sometime during 2016 or 2017. However, I feel like my eating disorder could play a part in my death, even if it's not gonna be the actual cause. My sadness will kill me. And isn't it a bit ironical that I hold on to it so much then? But I'm embracing it, I accept my fate. I have become my sadness.

Following the pattern

So I figured out that "three days of misery" -cycle yesterday? Anxiety, sadness, anger and then it starts over again. So yesterday was day four with anxiety again, and today... wait for it... I'm riddled with sadness. So I'm "looking forward" to get anger tomorrow then. Seems very repetitive, can't I get something new instead? Oh, have to be careful what I wish for, cause it might just come true.

It's heavy, this sadness. As if there was a weight on me, a pressure of some sort. I don't know why I feel so sad though. If it's the music I listen to, the memories that haunt me, the weather outside my window, or the mess of things occupying this room. Everything I think of becomes sad in a way, I see the gloom in everything.

Starving is like sliding down a hill. It tears you up and wears you out. No... I do try.

Ok, how the hell does one lose a pack of eggs? I hereby resign from life. Seriously, I bought them yesterday, but I've somehow lost them completely. I don't care, I won't look for them, I won't do anything that involves eggs or any other household thing. Just gonna do the only thing I'm good at: sit on my ass and feel like shit.

Yeah, I'm just having a bad day... week... month... year... life. Seriously, this sucks. It's like I'm lost in a darkness somewhere and no matter how much light I bring I still can't see anything. Maybe that means that I'm blind. Figuratively, I think that I am blind, cause I can only see darkness.

I may not have a main character in WoW, but I think that Izanamí is my favourite character. Maybe that counts, and also that I still can't stop playing with him. I log in every day, and I always start with doing quests as Izanamí. I think I'll call him my main. He kinda deserves it.



Soundtrack: "I want it all" by Queen.

Searing thoughts

Everything tastes like metal since I quit smoking. It's like I'm on Imovane all the time, cause when I actually do take it (it's been twice in two weeks) I don't notice any difference at all. I'm thinking myself to madness tonight. Started with thoughts about my magic abilities, moved on to Dala and Caspian, then got to anxiety and ended up in trains and suicide. In a little under two hours.

At first I thought of posting it here, but it's way beyond too much and I don't wanna go through it again. Nor do I want to put anyone else through it, come to think of it... I've had a lot of anxiety today. My days are in a neat pattern of misery of three days as of lately. Day one: anxiety. Day two: sadness. Day three: anger. Now I'm on day four, which is anxiety again.

It's like every day has its own pretty little colour! Anger should be red, and sadness should be black, right... but what about anxiety? Perhaps yellow, it sort of screams a bit, doesn't it? Sorry, you don't have to answer that.

I don't know why, but I googled my headache, the chronic tension-type. Most of it sort of made me a bit upset though. Because it was to me useless crap. Like self help stuff and about the neck and back muscles being the cause of the pain. Like the fuck? If I meant back/neck pain I would have googled for that!

No, the searing pain constantly eating at me originates from my forehead, temples, sinus and jaws. This headache... it's psychosomatic to begin with. Sometimes I even think it might be only imagined, but then other days I can actually see how tense I am when I look in a mirror.

Mostly it's mild to moderate, so I'm not crumbling beneath the pain all the time. Some days I hardly even notice it until someone asks me about it. Then I check if it's still there and then I can't think clearly cause the pain is piercing my every thought. Agony... too much agony in my life.

Luck and chance

I don't know why I let other people's problems get to me. I have enough problems already. I'm always annoyed with people nowadays. Never compassionate, sympathetic, empathetic or any of those fancy words. Not the slightest glimpse of care. I've gone bitter and selfish. Don't care about anyone's well being except for His. My love, and only him. It's like everyone else have just faded into the shadow, and I walk away from them.

But I'm in his shadow. I'm lingering, just close enough to be noticed, but never too close to a bother. I've been cast into a land of shadows. Cloaking my vision, this lovesickness has impaired me even more. I'm living for that impossible dream, for hopes that will probably never come true. Not in this life, not in this reality.

It's tearing me down, just a little more each time. The smallest thing can make me fly or fall apart, but for every fall I break a little more. I think a miracle needs to happen if I should survive this. I'm waiting, just waiting for something to happen. At this point I don't care which. Die or live, I cannot choose. So I let fate decide it for me. Roll the dice and wish me luck.

Like I said to my mother the other day, about my sleep and all. I said: "I don't want to be awake and I don't want to sleep, so I let my medication decide it for me". It's like I'm on life support, like I wouldn't survive without all those components that keep me together. Pills, psychiatric care, the crew, my parents, my love. Cause the truth is that I don't live for anything: I'm simply alive because of these things.

I cannot cope at night

Is it gonna be like this every night, or what? I get more sensitive with the darkness, and somehow my loneliness becomes more potent. As of now that is a bad thing. I hate that I'm so fucking sensitive. Toughen up, already! Crying like a little girl, I should be ashamed of myself... but this anxiety is eating at my soul, this sadness is tearing me inside out.

I fear that I might start getting afraid of sleep again. Afraid of dreams and nightmares, of waking up in distress several times a night, of not waking up at all. Afraid of losing control I jump out of bed as soon as I'm awakened by the crew in the morning. Won't allow myself to sleep the day away. I fight to stay up as late as possible and I fight to get up as early as possible. It's a viscous circle.

And this fucking lovesickness. Ripping, tearing, aching, hurting, screaming inside me. I'm out out of words for it, cause I've already explained it a thousand times. A thousand tears each for my inability to cope, for the dream that can't come true, for the painful reality that he'sd taken and lives so far away and why would he even glance in my direction the way I want him to?

A thousand words to describe what I cannot put into words. I'm full of paradoxes and ambivalence, but this is so crude, so through and through. Filling up every space in my heart until no one else matters. No one else and nothing else. I neglect my friends, I neglect my family for an impossible dream, for a guy I cannot have.

I so hoped this was all just temporary, I wish that I would have died from it much sooner. Cause then I wouldn't have to suffer. Isn't that what death is, that you no longer have to suffer? Eight months in this mess, it's like a tangled cobweb I can't get out from, I just keep entangling myself deeper and deeper. And nothing makes any sense anymore.

I don't know who I am, I don't know what sort of life this is I'm trying to live. I live in his shadow. Cautiously following him around every corner, trying to hide my true feelings, always afraid of coming off as either too cold or too creepy.

Aching for his presense, his spoken words in my ear, his gentle touch that I can never have. For him to notice and find out that we have more in common than he realised. My endless thoughts are spinning aimlessly, devoured by too strong emotions, too much of everything that I cannot handle.

I just don't know what the fuck to do. I'm so lost and I feel as though I'm just getting more and more lost every day. I just have to get out of here, just have to get out of here...

Invisible tears

It's been a long time since I wrote about my crush. Perhaps my words are ending, but I'm not thinking in words about him. There are pictures, snap shots of memories, a split second's smile, his mumbling voice, the way it felt when his fair stroke my face. I'm thinking in pictures, sound and sensation in a way I've never done before. Usually all of my thoughts are conversations. With myself, Anna or made up conversations with other people. So these wordless thoughts are completely new for me, at least to this extreme.

Besides, it's all just repeating. It's the same thoughts since October, November and December. Over and over, and over again. That I miss him. And I miss him more and more every day. I dream of curling up in his arms, that he whispers that he loves me, plays with my hair, kisses my cheek. I'm still lovesick. I just haven't been bothering you with the same old, constantly repeating in circles.

I've been listening to this song, "Kola lake vellari" by a guy named Himesh Reshammiya, for hours and hours since I found it on Spotify yesterday. I even fell asleep listening to it on repeat on my cell phone last night. Somehow it reminds me of my love. It sounds a bit sad to me. Like he's longing, lost in that woman's eyes. That he can't have her. The one he's dancing with in the video to the song. I have no idea what he's actually singing about, so it's just a feeling. And no, I can't find the lyrics via google either.

I still sleep with his picture just a few inches away from my face every night. Imagining that he's actually there. It's a sad comfort, and it feels like this dream of mine will never ever come true. And I don't know for how much longer I can endure this lovesickness. I'm slowly losing my will to live, as my will to disappear forever increases. To take my stupid dreams with me to a better place, without heartache and invisible tears.

"And still I fall apart
for this dream will end
and leave me with wounds
that cannot mend"

Procrastinating feelings

I'm always so tired nowadays, like I could just fall asleep at any given moment. Maybe it's still my three months of sleep deprivation and hypnophobia that I'm not entirely recovered from yet. Maybe it's just all the emotional stress that is still going on. I'm not even awake when I'm awake.

It's hard to concentrate on anything. World of warcraft, movies, writing, anything. It takes hours upon getting out of bed for me to wake up somewhat, and then I get so tired again before I know it. Nothing can make even the slightest bit of alert. Not even caffeine or any of the usual or unusual things that I can't think of right now.

People are more annoying than usual in WoW. They keep bothering me with group requests and duel proposals. I was this close to just yell "fuck off" in chat but managed to keep ignoring them instead.

Other than those occasional anger outbursts that don't really burst at all, I feel completely numb today. Just like yesterday and the day before that, and the day before that. Still fantasising about death, self harming, listening to Emilie Autumn and I'm back on normal cigarettes again. I'm not entirely sure why I'm this numb, but it could be that thing that shook me to that shock-like state a month ago. But it's been a month, for crying out loud.

Would it be okay if I say I'm not suicidal, I just have a constant death wish?

It's like I've built a wall around me, and nothing can come through it. I still don't want to feel anything, but I doubt this is a good thing. Well, of course it isn't a good thing, but I don't know what to do about it either. Or if I even want to do something about it. I don't want to be completely numb 24/7, but I don't wanna feel like crap either. And there really isn't a third choice.

I'm putting off going to the grocery store. Just wanna play WoW and watch Criminal Minds. Almost simultaneously. But I have no food left. That is a problem.

Drugs and priorities

Aw, fuck. WoW shut down for updates and won't be playable until 11:00 pm. It was the only thing I could find that helped me think of something else than all this fucking pain. That's why I play, that's why I play that stupid endless game! I hate you Blizzard.

One good thing worth mentioning though: I don't seem to be hypnophobic anymore. Maybe you already figured out, since I'm obviously back on my old sleeping pattern. My fear of sleeping just disappeared just like that. I gave up. Totally and completely gave up on trying to stay awake and trying to fall asleep. I finally found a way to "let go".

Still over medicating in order to fall asleep though. Lergigan, Mirtazapin, Zyprexa and Imovane combined in large quantities. You're not supposed to take 15 mg of Imovane every night for longer than two weeks, but I just don't give a fuck about those stupid regulations. Just gimme the fucking pills so that I can fall asleep within 30 hours, is that really too much to ask of?

Nowadays I fall asleep when I'm... what was that word again? (Anna says: you don't remember the word you've been over using for months?) ...lethargic. And I get out of bed when I can't fall back to sleep again or wake up from a nightmare. Usually awake for 20-26 hours and sleep/stay in bed for 12-16 hours at a time. I can't fit into a 24 hours circadian rhythm, but nor do I care either. At least I vary sleep with being awake in some sort of acceptable pattern that doesn't make my brain melt. I believe this will be my last post tagged "hypnophobia".

Still wanting antipsychotic medicine, but keep dreaming huh? I'd rather fall apart mentally and die with a masculine body than perking up and die because I hate my body as it is now. Either way I'll die from suicide eventually, but still. That thing about leaving a beautiful corpse behind, perhaps. No it's all about priorities. And these fucked up priorities say something about what I would do to feel complete, body and soul, don't they? That I'd rather die than fuck up my chances on getting that surgery done. Any time anyone asks me if I really want to change my body to match my gender identity, I'll just answer that. I have my parents in mind, especially my mother seem to still have doubts about my certainty. If only she knew...

Breaking what's already broken

Fucking cruel world this is. Just saying. Days like this I just wanna move into Azeroth and be "reborn" as a heartless Forsaken fighting for The Horde in World of Warcraft. I envy people who know how to love without ending up breaking their own hearts. I have my best friend in mind, cause she knows how to love and who. I envy that so much.

I don't even know how I manage to do that. Break my own heart. But it's so fragile nowadays, I was still torn up after that thing in 2011, already when I fell for my crush. My obsession, my everything, my one true love. Heartbroken and in love with another at the same time. And now somehow that pain has doubled, as I feel I'm about to get heartbroken again. Or maybe I already am.

How can you break an already broken heart? It's simple really, cause even the broken things can be further broken. Shards can become smaller shards, small shards can become splinter, splinter can be pulverised. It feels like what is left of my heart is only scar tissue, seams that are easily ripped up again and again and everything just seeps right through in either direction.

If I wasn't obsessed before, I sure am now. Cause I can't think of anything else than this thing that tears me to pieces a thousand times a day. That not even cutting, smoking, pain killers, sedatives, sleeping pills, anxiolytics, writing, watching movies, playing WoW, drinking tea or eating chocolate can fix. I'm dying inside and there's nothing I can do about it.

So yeah, sometimes I allow myself to wish that I was heartless or cold hearted. That that would make things easier. But you know what they say, right? That it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Sometimes I doubt that. I've been through so much pain when it comes to love that I'd rather just erase it all from my memory.

How much longer

I've started to escape my reality with sleep. To the point of taking more sedatives when I wake up so that I can sleep some more. I just tipped the scale, didn't I? From extreme sleep deprivation to over sleeping. It all stems from the same problem though: don't wanna sleep, and don't wanna be awake at the same time.

Didn't go to the grocery store today, even though I'm all out of food, or almost. My anxiety or sadness is still deep and I'd rather just sit in here doing nothing, than put on a jacket and go buy some food. On one hand I think that nobody cares about my suffering, but on the other hand I think they all care too much.

This is something I can't do anything about, I only have two options. One being keep bottling it up, keep pressing all these feeling away as far as I possibly can. The other is letting them roam free and possibly destroy me in the process. I suppose I value my life more this time, and I protect it as much as I can. But my mind is sore and my heart is weak. Carrying this is tiring me and I don't know how much further I'll be able to.

Once again I'm falling apart, but this time I'm actually trying not to. Willed enough to keep on fighting, but not strong enough. And I thought self destruction was only something you do by choice.