A world of complications

It's so weird. Six months ago I was so sure that I wanted bottom surgery and hysterectomy, like I was dying for it, you know. I wrote so much about it, even went outside of my comfort zone to talk about my junk and all those feelings I had about it. And now... 6 months later, I don't want it anymore. Now I want to keep everything intact so that I can have a biological child.

I'm so glad that I gave myself even more time to think about it, despite thinking that I was certain. These life-changing decisions sure are exhausting and can I soon be done with such? No, I think everyone is faced with life-changing decisions all one's life, no matter if trans or not. It's just different decisions. Like I've never had to think about career or marriage, but I think about surgeries and parenthood instead. It's a mix of trans-related stuff and non trans-related stuff.

But mostly it is trans-related in some way or another. In a way I'm now glad that I didn't start my transition earlier, I would probably have cried rivers by now if I had had a hysterectomy earlier, like I don't know, years ago when I definitely wanted that. I hated children when I was a child, teenager and into my early 20's. I was repulsed and freaked at the thought of ending up pregnant.

I thought for sure I was never gonna want a child. Although, somewhere in the back of my mind the dream has always been there. Ambivalent, yes, but I wasn't aware of just how ambivalent I was when it came to that.

You might not know this, but back in junior high, when I was 13 years old, I wrote half a book on my first computer about myself that then became about a future me, a possible future that was both good and bad.

In that story, I was a woman (I didn't know I was trans yet) and got married to a guy that I knew in real life, although it was a one way crush fairly similar to my present situation with K (my heart has literally always been completely hopeless). Anyways, in that story I got married to that guy and we had a child together when I had gotten to my early 30's, I think. The child was never conceived before I stopped writing though.

I'm not entirely sure what happened to that story, just that somehow the document broke down and could not be restored, then the whole computer crashed too. So it's completely lost, I can never get to read that story or share it ever again. Completely gone. Anyway, it reminds me that even when I was as young as 13 years old, there was a part of me that wanted a child someday.

But at that age, I had my illusion that if I ever had a child, that child would be a perfect little angel and it was only that kind of child I could ever imagine having. It's a lot different now, of course. Just that knowing that if I ever have a child, or when I do, that child would be perfect in my eyes no matter what a mess they might turn into. With my genes, I can only imagine. Hopefully, they won't be too much like me.

Is it rare to think like that? That yes I want a biological child but hoping they won't become too much like me? I'm just so aware of my flaws, those that can be inherited or taught. My parents are sad that I got so much shit from them, and in return, I'd be sad if my child would get a lot of shit from me. Everything from bad teeth to mental illness, the list is actually quite endless.

Would it be cruel of me to sort of ignore that though? If I'd let my selfish reasons for having a child come first and then just deal with the rest if that becomes an issue? Would I be an embarrassing parent, by the way? My parents rarely were, although they had their moments too. For some reason, it's like I want to get pregnant for the same reason as my mother had, and it tears me apart, cause I literally hated her for having that reason.

I don't want my child to hate me, for any reason. Although, maybe I could just be more tactful about it than my mother was. I don't know much about my father, or what his reasons were. Despite him living in the same house as my mother, I don't really know him that well. I don't really mind not knowing him, it's just awkward, but I don't know why. (Could be my seriously fucked nightly dreams that's been haunting me since I was about 12, but they can't ruin things so much, can they?)

So mostly I compare myself to my mother, in more aspects than just this. And also because, despite being male like my father (sort of, but you get it) if I'll have a child it would be closer to my mother's experiences and thoughts and feelings about it, if you know what I mean. Because my father obviously didn't carry or conceive me.

I learn to do things on my own, and somehow, even if I had wanted it, I just know I won't get my parents' support on this. They might sigh and help with some of the practical once they realise that they can't talk me out of it, or if it's already "too late" so to say. But they wouldn't emotionally support me or be there to hold my hand. They would likely see it as me getting into yet another mess that they just have to help me through cause who else would?

Yeah, who else would help me through it if not them? I have so much to think about, how can I possibly do it on my own? I mean I can't even discuss with my endocrinologist about stopping testo, or go to a check up at the gyn to see if I even can get pregnant without having my mother drive me there. A whole world of complications just arose before me... sigh. I knew it wasn't gonna be easy, but damn.

Staying strong

I feel so damn broken though, and Zyprexa isn't working against sadness. Good to know. For the future, I mean. Cause then I won't waste pills for feelings they can't get at. I'm calm, but incredibly sad and can't think clearly. I worry about that K might have left me and no matter how much I should be thinking about it, I can't fully grasp it and I can't think about how the hell I should go on living if he has.

It's always the same thoughts, and they're always different. Plotting against me, forming walls that I can't go through. And I can't understand them. They're very vague, fragile like soap bubbles that break when I touch them. Already forgotten, already lost.

I lost. It feels like I lost my battle and I can only breathe in cigarette smoke. It's like... I was ready to give him my whole world, the last bits that were good about me, but I don't think he wants it, I don't think he ever did. I could still be wrong, but my heart doesn't believe it anymore.

And it's breaking for the last time, or it will when I let it. I can't let it break yet. I'm unfinished. I will die unfinished eventually, I think most of us do. But that's what it all comes down to, to him. And how I can't lose him. I can't lose myself for love ever again. I just can't handle it. What I feel for K is beyond what planet Earth can grasp and I love him so proudly, yet so few know.

If I ever get a headstone when I die, I might want something on it devoted to him. I don't know, just a sudden thought. If I had any money or valuable possessions I could give it all to him, but I don't. I have nothing valuable except from this apartment and this crappy computer. It wouldn't be valuable to him.

I just want that one last act, or something, completely devoted to him, so that he'll always know. That he was the one for me, that I loved him so completely and unconditionally. I'm only writing this in past tense for the future, for when I die, I still don't plan to. I don't want another overdose, a rope around my neck, to jump or anything else that I've thought about recently or not.

I've been planning my damn death since I was 12 years old, it's nothing new, just that it gets new angles and more precise the older I get. I've got my organ donation card and I'm registered on the website. I might or might not re-enter the Swedish Church if I want a Christian funeral. I do believe in God anyway, I always have, just so damn certain that he hates me for what I am and for what I've done.

I don't want to re-think about my death, but the thoughts suffocate me and I can't let them go this time. Usually I can, and maybe that's the only thing that changes. As the days pass and still no word from K, I forget to like and reblog his posts on tumblr and facebook, I forget to show that I still care so much it rips me apart inside every minute. I don't know how to show my stupid feelings without coming off as clingy and annoying.

I want to be able to leave him alone, to not bother him when he obviously doesn't want me to. Does he even? I cannot know for sure. And that scares me, cause what if he wants to reach out but for some reason can't? What if I'm one of very few people who still are out there, patiently waiting for him to come back? And what if I'd then leave him alone, and he'd be all alone, thinking that he lost me?

I can't wrap my head around it. It's too much. All these thoughts and questions buzzing in my head, like wildfire. My heart is beating for him and he's for sure my last remaining contact with reality, with sanity and any form of love. Except my mother, but it's not the same. I'd be so lost without him it scares me so much.

Cause I've never loved anyone the way I love him. Guess you already knew that, but damn, almost 2 years and he still takes my breath away. And he doesn't need to do anything or be in a certain way for it, he only has to be himself and I fall over and over and over again. How much can one person possibly fall for another? Does it ever end? Do I even want it to end?

But it has to. Nothing has ever stayed with me, nothing at all. I don't deserve love, and I know it to the core. And I'm just broken pieces scattered by the wind. I'm nothing but dust, nothing but a shadow lingering endlessly between life and death. I have no right to demand anything from him and I don't, I just dream of the closest thing to a paradise this shit hole could ever, possibly offer someone like me. I'm pining for love and I know that will eventually kill me.

I'm scared and my heart beats fast, but I'm frighteningly calm. As if I almost accept it already. That I won't ever get love like that. Maybe no one does. Maybe it belongs to the world of fiction and I need to get down to earth. But I can't be with anyone else, can't let another human being touch me. Literally. I've stopped hugging people since last time I hugged him.

Already then I felt it, that it was the last time I'll ever see him in person. I hope it's not true. There was something wrong with our last goodbye that day in August. He wouldn't look at me when he said goodbye, his eyes wandered somewhere into the distance or deep within himself. It scared me, it felt like I had done something wrong, but I hadn't, I couldn't have.

I cannot cherish that moment, I just cannot. It left ice in my veins, a hollow feeling that has continued to hollow me out ever since. I wonder what was on his mind in that moment, what haunted or taunted him. If it was me or something completely different. I want to understand it cause then I could accept it, whatever it was.

But if that was our last goodbye, I don't know what I would do. I'd cry and scream and bleed, I wouldn't accept it. I wouldn't accept him leaving me, but I would understand it. I was never his to begin with, he was never mine. Although I don't believe in ownership when it comes to love, I would definitely let him own me if that was what he wanted. Was. Am I already giving up?
My breathing is shallow, heavy at the same time and filled with endless amounts of nicotine. I can't stop smoking today. I never chain smoke unless it's bad and once again I got through a whole pack of cigarettes in less than 5 hours. That's 4 cigarettes per hour, which doesn't leave many minutes between them, as they take 8-10 minutes for me to smoke.

I feel emptied, hollowed out. My mind is dulled from these thoughts and feelings raping my mind. I miss him so, so, so much and I'm literally going crazy from it. This isn't me, I cannot breathe right. I catch myself holding my breath even when I'm not holding in cigarette smoke.

Forget to breathe out until I'm close to choking. I could pass out. Somehow I hope that I would cause then maybe finally something would show on my permanent stone face that fucking everything is wrong.


These thoughts

"I stray, searching for a reason
as I crumble, stumble but won't fall
hesitate in the middle of a breath
as I realise that I want nothing at all

Collecting ashes into a pile
I couldn't stop the thoughts this time
I lay my arms around my chest, hold tightly
a vague reminder of a forgotten crime

As your voice lingers in my head
you gave me reasons not worth to stay
I shudder at the thoughts
not wanting them to go away

Ice crispy in my soul, it's cold in there
but warm around me I find no way out
but warn me I'll tell you everything
once I know what it's about

Reaching further I try to scream
but it sunders inside me and I drop
my hopes on the pavement
and I don't know how to stop

These thought lacerating my mind
now only lingers but I know
that they create emotions within me
that I don't know how to show"

New words

So, I'm a little slow in the transgender community, since I well, rarely move around in those circles anymore. I get bored easily, and always having to watch where I step in order to not accidentally step on someone's toes can get a little restraining at times. I realise it's a sensitive issue, but maybe that's why I rarely end up in that community anymore. I don't need them, but sometimes it's nice to offer information or support to someone else.

However, I have recently come across some rather interesting words. I've never heard them before, but I'm sure some of you may have, and yes I am a little slow even though I sit with my nose deeply buried in my computer every hour of the day that I'm not asleep.

Those are the "dmab" and "dfab" terms. The first meaning designated male at birth and the second obviously means designated female at birth. They are, as far as I'm concerned, to be replaced with the "old fashioned" mtf and ftm terms. I don't really like it to be honest. What's wrong with calling myself ftm? Though the dfab sounds kinda... fab?

I suppose my concern is that people won't understand these new words, cause even I didn't and I'm pretty darn trans myself. So how could cisgendered people understand? I mean we don't really need that kind of words to explain who/what we are within the trans community, or at least no one's gonna question your use of words to describe yourself.

Sorry I don't understand hypes. Maybe I grew old a little too quickly on my journey from hell, but that's just me. I mean why change something that already works? Is dfab so much better than ftm, really? In what way then? Raging over words... what a I, twelve? Nah, I don't know. Just instant response I guess. Yeah, I'm definitely getting old, not understanding them "hip" things anymore. And I'm sounding like my parents... but I do think they're right in a way. There's always so much that changes for no good reasons really, except that they become different.

In past tense

I remember a lot from our relationship, I realise when thinking about it. I have conversations in my mind about us hooking up, just as friends. How far I've come since we broke up, how much is different now. Would we even recognise each other? How can I ever know.

The memories are haunting me like ghosts, and I don't know why all of a sudden. It's been over five years since we last saw each other, and now I get flashbacks and imaginary conversations. Why now? Is it that five years means something, is it a special number of years somehow? Cause I wonder, it must be something.

Well, at least it's not any negative flashbacks, but that's what is bothering me. If it was negative then maybe I could understand it. I've moved on a long time ago and I've never had a reason to look back, other than to acknowledge the fact that it is a part of my past. And I've always been fine with that.

I just can't shrug it off, you know. Do I want us to get together again? No, I hardly think so. Maybe I'm just curious what became of him, what stories we could tell each other from the years we've been apart.

But that I enjoy those thoughts of us, and I let them continue and that I find solace in them somehow, might also be a bit of a pet peeve.

But of course, it was after all the only relationship that I've ever had in which both me and my partner were deeply in love. That does become a special bunch of memories altogether. That I've never been anywhere near those feeling again or before that relationship. And I long so badly after having that again, with someone else. Yes of course, that must be it. It's not actually him that I miss, it's what we had.

Left to save

I did another round of bleaching just now, for the 9th time and counting... With not so much anticipation I'm looking forward to/dreading the result. Had in more silver toner this time, will see if it had any effect what so ever. And if the lengths have gotten any lighter at all. Don't look too promising now when it's wet, to be honest.

My hair is sort of... not receptive for help anymore and slowly withering to something a bit like spider's web in texture. That super thin, soft and breaks when you breathe on it kind of quality. I highly doubt I'll be able to get it light blonde below shoulder length.

Too bad, I was looking forward to have that long, beautiful, elvish hair in a silvery white colour. Or maybe I could like it shorter? Was a while ago I had that. I'll keep pondering over that. I guess that's just the price of messing with already damaged hair. So what is left to save of it? I don't know, but if I take good care of it, it might make it possible to save more of it.

Though it feels a bit stupid now to have spent a small fortune on hair bleaching products and fixed with it for months and then like "eh, I think I'll cut it all off" if you know what I mean. Though I kinda knew it already from the start, that my hair wouldn't be able to handle all that bleach. But still I sigh, cause I wanted to be wrong.

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.

Pointless

I bleached my hair in a dream tonight. Wonder what that's supposed to mean. Maybe that I made the right choice in bleaching it for real. I've had recurring dreams where I'm blonde, it's almost like that's the way it's supposed to be somehow.

World of warcraft is having issues again. They're working on that, but I don't know how long it's gonna take. I'm trying not to get hysteric about it, telling myself I can embroider, write or knit instead. That it doesn't have to be so very upsetting. Not that it works though.

Everything seems so very pointless. What am I really doing with my life? Escaping it. I'm trying my hardest to escape from my horrible life without killing myself. Yeah, yeah, things are going well and I don't really want to die. It's just that I don't really want to live either. But embroidering things that I never finish, writing a lot of crap, playing video games without an end or any sort of real achievements... isn't that a bit pointless?

I don't know where I'm getting at, cause apparently I only like to do such "meaningless" things, which means that I actually bring some meaning to them. Nothing is simple though, is it? Cause they aren't totally meaningless, since I enjoy doing them, and by enjoying meaningless things they aren't per definition meaningless anymore.

So if there was a point with this entry, it would be that even though everything seems pointless sometimes, it doesn't have to mean that it is.

Close enough

I only broke my smoking schedule once yesterday, so I still smoked very little, only 12 cigarettes. Instead of 11 that was my plan. I won't blame myself for that mistake, it's actually more surprising that I made it as good as I did.

Today I'm only allowed 9 cigarettes, which will probably be 10, but that's okay. It might even not reach to more than 8. Depends how good I am at distracting myself, and how bad my anxiety becomes at night.

So far I've also figured out which ones are the most important for me. The first one in the morning and the last one right before I go to bed. I'm "lucky" to only have two important ones, but it will be extra hard to let go of them at the end of the week.

Otherwise I think this will be doable, since my motivation is almost 100%. Almost, because I'm never exactly hundred on anything at all, and I've never been. If it's something very important it can land on something so close to hundred I count it as that. Like right now it feels like something close to 9,9999999% and that my dears, is fucking close enough.

I think I figured out what I am, or what is me. My personality, parts of my emotions, my past present and future. The deepest of my feelings, those that don't go away. Not the strongest emotions, just the deepest, if you know what I mean. Like my homesickness, longing, long lost love and such. My personality is what defines me, though not all of it.

I am not my thoughts, or at least so I believe. That thoughts come after emotions, that some thoughts aren't even mine, that they come from somewhere else. That might be schizo talk, thinking my thoughts are someone else's. But I believe that however.

Okay, that cigarette ended way too fast. Now I have at least five more minutes until that hour long car trip to Visby. I'm gonna see my speech therapist for the second time, yeah it's new one. Focused just on how I perceive my voice and what I can do to become more comfortable with it, and not so much on the trans aspect.

Poison

I just write and nothing good comes out of it today. Write, write, write until my fingers hurt. Some of it I could probably post, but it's profoundly negative and depressive so I think I'll skip that. Mostly cause I don't wanna read it through and once again get those thoughts into my head.

Still playing a lot of WoW as well. Finally got up fishing and the ability to track fish so that I could complete a few daily quests. And got cooking up to 600 as well. Yet another few daily's completed. I now have a baby dragon serpent to care for in the Pandaria zones. It's so adorable and I can play catch with it and feed it honey. Which I will do every day for a while. Maybe some new quests will come up as well, we'll see.

Still also questing in Vashj'ir on the side, and also levelling up Archaeology, which I'm at 246 for the moment. It's kinda tedious though, and not very rewarding. Though I got a cute little skeleton raptor pet. It's following me around everywhere now, a little company. Woah, that really makes me seem lonely...

The thing is, even when I come up with a good piece of text to post, I rarely finish writing it until it starts crawling in my skin and I have to go back to WoW again.

The thought about death has been poisoning my mind since around mid afternoon. Not actually about suicide, but death and dying in general. What happens when you die, to you and those you leave behind. The consequences. What do I really know about death?

And my own death... I don't wanna think about that, but yet I do. I always come to that when thoughts about my future come up. Cause death is all I see, with sickness and sadness and madness. Those dark thoughts like a veil of shadow over my eyes and everything that was bright turns dark. I wonder why I continuously make myself feel bad.

Those dark thoughts are like a train. Forceful, loud and hard to stop. Not impossible, but yeah, hard to stop. They seem to live their own lives, a natural force by itself, taking over me, forcing me to their bidding. I try not to think about it, I really do. Yeah, this is me trying that... better post this before it gets too long.

Even in dreams

In a dream tonight I accidentally set my bed on fire, my favourite pillow all ruined, my favourite stuffed animal burn damaged. My father was so angry with me, cause I had left some tea lights (small candles) by the bed. I checked everything so that it wouldn't be any such accidents! Why was he so mad at me? I checked it, I can swear that I checked that there were no damn candles...

Some dreams give me so strong feelings that I can't let go of them after I wake up. I still ask myself, why was my father so mad at me? Why didn't I see the candles? This dream was riddled with shame, anger and fear.

Moving on to another dream. I play a lot of WoW, and apparently my subconscious mind acknowledges that. Cause apparently I recalled the human's race leader Varian Wrynn's name and exact looks in a dream tonight. I don't even play as a human, though he looks kinda cool with that scar across his face and all. You know I love scars.

I don't see the point in playing as a human in WoW, when you can pretend to be a dwarf, a troll, a blood elf and so on. I already pretend to be a human every day in real life. And I don't want that burden in my favourite game.

I read on a web page some time ago, someone describing which race to pick for a priest. They had written that most people play as human, because most people are human in real life. *Most* people, not everyone, they stated. I can't even describe that feeling, being recognised as possibly not human, someone realising that not all people are in fact humans! The wow feeling! (Pun intended).

Lately I've been thinking about cosplay, that it would be awsome dressing up and competing as a goblin priest. Though, I suppose I should be a specific goblin in the game. Like trade prince Gallywix or something. I dunno. I don't even know how I could proceed with that thought.

That troll rogue is back in Orgrimmar! At level 82 this time. Still wearing the starter gear, just standing there. My mind starts wandering again, wondering what's up with that player. Though I don't know if I should ask them.

Getting the message through

I feel a bit better now. The dizziness has decreased and so has the cold sweating, but I'm shaking instead and feel very weak. If I could take it more easy than usually, I would. Meaning there isn't much more calmer things to do than doing nothing, which is kinda what I always do.

I've realised that I can't really show emotions, and that has lead me to trouble all through my life. Sure I'm good at explaining what I feel, I'm good with words. But I can't show it. Well, anger is the only exception. I believe that is why things haven't exactly been successful in my processes of seeking psychiatric professional help over the years. Especially in emergency psych-wards. They don't take me seriously, they never have. I get this huge vibe that their attitude is something like "it can't be that bad, you don't look upset".

And that's usually when I resort to serious self harm or suicide attempts out of sheer desperation and hopelessness, thinking no one and nothing can help me. Cause no matter how hard I try, I can't get the message through. It shouldn't have to be that way, I shouldn't have to risk my life in order to get help to survive. My terrible communication skills has lead me give up on ever getting the help I needed, which in my past has lead me to take matters in my own hands. Literally.

Language is so insufficient, when spoken only with words. It's hard to believe someone who looks neutral but talks about how overwhelmed by emotions they are. I wouldn't go as far as to say they think I'm lying, but more as if they think I'm exaggerating. Could it have something to do with my asperger syndrome? It doesn't seem unlikely to me.

This might sound stupid, but I've seriously considered "faking" a reaction to the emotions I feel. Like when I am very sad I'll force myself to cry or snivel. Or if I'm very scared I'll force myself to hyperventilate and just apply whatever appropriate body language to the emotion I'm experiencing. A fake smile when I'm happy might not be such a good idea though. Damn, this makes me feel like a robot or something...

Another stupid idea that sometimes gets to me is that I should stop communicating with words at all. Willingly become mute, that is. I thought of that just after I unwillingly became mute that one day in late June. My thought behind that is: that way I would be forced to communicate with my body language much more, and that would in time make me better at doing so. It's a stupid idea because it would probably do more harm than good.

Wouldn't be able to talk on the phone, have a meaningful conversation with someone face to face, speak up when someone says something mean to me, wouldn't be able to explain myself really. Now that would be quite a strife, if you think about it. I would most likely either crawl in under a rock somewhere and stay there, fall into depression - or become violent. Cause what would you do if someone is mean to you and you can't defend yourself with words? I think I'll skip that idea, but it is tempting somehow...

Dark thoughts

Watching Criminal Minds still fucks me up. It awakens dark thoughts and feelings inside me that I don't even want to acknowledge. This episode I just recently watched, it's in the second season, was about a kid with murder fantasies, and he said: "in order to save others from dying I have to kill myself" and it just struck something inside me. That a part of me thought I was just like him, a bomb waiting to explode, until one day those fantasies would become real. Though there is this other part of me saying that as long as I hang on to the feeling of not really wanting to commit those crimes, I can keep it in check.

I've had those dark thoughts and fantasies since I was about twelve, but it has been escalating. Increased. Turned to actual plans. Plans I've been perfecting for years. And maybe there is some solace in that I've been at it, just planning and fantasising without doing anything, for years. I'm still smart enough to not wanna risk my whole life for making a fantasy become real. Besides, reality rarely lives up to an ideal, right?

But there is this uncertainty that keeps gnawing inside me, that maybe one day... And also if I keep losing my mind the way I've been doing these last seven months or so, I can never know for sure what that could lead me to in the future. Cause there actually is a psychotic killer inside of me, wanting to live out its fantasies.

The thing is, I really don't know which side of the law I stand on, when it really comes down to it. I admire murderers at the same time as I think the death penalty is a good thing. Perhaps that would be an "easy escape" if I'd one day end up in that situation. The thought "what the fuck is wrong with me?" pops up in my head. Well, what is right?

Apathy

I'm still apathetic it seems. I respond to things with thoughts, or words, but not emotionally. Like "oh, that's terrible" or "how adorable" or "that's annoying" but I don't feel sad, happy, angry or anything. It's like I'm trying to tell myself what to feel. I hardly even complain nowadays. It's all just brief statements. And what's up with the short sentences?

If I do feel something, it's just briefly. A few seconds smile, if I get angry it's over so fast my heartbeats don't even increase. Sadness that never creates tears. It's just snap shots.

Yes, I might be a bit over medicated, but usually I can just barely keep my wild emotions in check even with all those drugs. So this isn't because of them. Unless they just suddenly increased massively in strength all by themselves, which is of course highly unlikely, which is my point.

It's weird being back at my parents' place, even though it's just for the weekend. And I slept through all of yesterday, so it feels like I've been here shorter than I actually have. I keep no circadian rhythm, just wake up and go to bed whenever I feel like it. No pressure. Cause I need to stop worry about things that don't matter.

My sleeping pattern really doesn't, you know. Why? Cause it really shouldn't be such a big deal when I sleep or not or for how long. As long as I do sometimes. It's not like I have a schedule to keep up with or something.

Broken

I'm so tired. Didn't wanna get out of bed today, but did it anyway. Still haven't broken to pieces yet, still waiting for it to happen. Fighting to drag it out, pushing it away for as long as I can.

Yet again, I'm trying to run away from myself. I know that doesn't work in the long run, but even if just for a few hours, or minutes... I'm fighting this as much as I can, cause I'm dreading what will happen when I can't anymore.

I'm just so fucking sick and tired of my brain, and what it does to me. Feels like it actually wants to kill me. Just wanna isolate myself completely. Not answer any calls, not going online anymore, not inviting anyone. Barricade the door, shut off my computer, shut off my phone. Cause I think being around other people is making it worse. It's people I get mad at, that I feel guilty about, that I miss, long for, fall in love with.

Nothing will solve this, it's just gonna repeat itself again. What am I supposed to learn from all this? That love is death and will eventually kill me? That no matter how hard and real I love someone I will never experience true love? Or that once I give up, completely give up, that is when I will find true love?

It's hard to think clearly. And I keep blocking out certain thoughts, certain words and memories that harms me emotionally. Things I won't allow myself to think about. They're there, in an underlying layer of thoughts, I just keep them from coming up to the surface. To form into words, pictures and reminders, emotional wounds.

Am I damaged beyond repair, or will I somehow come out of this? I know that I will, or most likely to. But the question is bigger than that. I can't allow for this to happen again, or we'll be talking about self fulfilling prophecies again. I'm in too much pain to cry, but I've been crying inside non stop since yesterday. Sometimes my eyes get a little wet, but dry within seconds again. Maybe I'm holding that back too.

Stand up for yourself, damn it

My mood swings are back, and rather severely. Fuck. Today I've been shifting between being furious, sad and hysterically laughing at everything. And then back and forth between those faster than I can comprehend. Why do I have to be such an emotional chaos, even when drugged up on mood stabilisers?! Yeah, sleep deprivation isn't dangerous at all... it just makes me a super borderline-depressive-schizophrenic-fucked-up mess. And intensifies it. Loads.

If I didn't hate my brain before, I sure as hell do now. Excuse my while I go off and OD on my meds... nah, just kidding, but the urge is there.

Tried to speak my opinion about feminism in a debate/conversation with an acquaintance on Facebook. My god, I've been awake for 52 hours and I'm lethargic and wired at the same time. I rarely, no I think I've never expressed my true opinion about feminism before. Afraid to mess things up considering almost all of my friends have so solid opinions about the issue and I don't agree with them. Me? Afraid to speak my mind? Apparently, but I don't want to do that anymore. Even though it's hard being tackled down by my friends, I shouldn't be afraid to open up to them.

I think that the concept of feminism is faulty and I dislike that people follow it so blindly. I think that I only have one friend who realises that the concept is faulty and luckily that is my crush. "Luckily" because his opinion is the most important to me since I fell for him. Though I don't know fully what he thinks about the issue at large, I might be wrong about him agreeing with me, cause I really don't know to be honest. (The person I mainly had this debate with is by the way a mutual friend to my crush, which means he can read the dispute and my opinions if he wants to). 

I only know that his opinion isn't a blind slavery to a political issue that everyone seem to be expected to follow blindly without questioning it. What the fuck is wrong with people? Politics are meant to be opinionated and questioned. That is how we evolve and change this fucked up society!

Hate and acceptance

I realise that I hate more people than I thought. People that have in one way or another wronged me. Some of which I still consider friends. Can one hate a friend? Well, I can hate a person but still like some of their qualities. Enough to keep a distance and always keep my guard up, but still being able to laugh at their jokes and agree with them with some of their opinions. Some of them I just pretend to friends with though. Have them added on Facebook so that I can keep up with what's going on in their lives, and take joy out of their misery. All the while being nice and friendly to them, pretending that I care and like when things go well for them. At the same time as I in my mind hope they fuck up or get hurt by someone else.

I don't really know why I keep in touch with these people, maybe I just am that piteous. Most of the time I don't realise just what happened until some time after. Or well, generally quite long time afterwards, to be honest. When that question someone pushed me with to do something I rather didn't do, repeatedly - and repeatedly I caved in - was more of a demand when I come to think of it. Or when a person showed affection and shunned me for years knowing I was interested, that person was more specifically using me when I come to think of it.

I'm listening to Aesthetic Perfection's song "Schadenfreude", which means gloat in German, but apparently it's an English word as well (obviously a loanword). The chorus is just the best:  

Don't need to be the one who does it you 
Don't need to twist the knife or push it through
Just want to see that you're in misery too
Just like me inside

I can be a bit stupid when it comes to meeting people that will later hurt me in some way or another. I have always had this attitude that I think I'm whining over trivialities in situations I really should have just ran for my life. It's hard to identify a problem like that, and knowing whether or not it was just a mishap I should get over or something worse, and knowing if it really hurt me. That's the thing about being a wreck already to begin with: sometimes I don't even notice when someone has caused me to feel even worse.

I do know that I'm very careless when it comes to relationships, whether friends or lovers. Give my heart to some asshole who hurts me and then I do it allover again with someone else. Maybe I just can't tell the difference between good and bad people, just because I don't believe there are people of either kind. That if a kind and caring person does something questionable I just think it's human to do so and simply accept it. But I know that I accept too much, and can only hope that some day maybe I will learn when something is not acceptable before I let them break me.

Disconnected

I've only had three cups of coffee today and as a result I got some nasty tremors. My crazy body seems to think that I'm detoxing... wow, I must have quite an addiction, huh? How did that happen? Oh... never mind.

Am I getting dumber every day or just more and more scatter minded? I can't put my thoughts together, they're just disconnected sentences. One of the really weird ones that popped up was "Trying to save an infinite amount of people just by licking their toes." I have no idea what that was supposed to mean. I'm writing them down, all these incoherent, random thoughts that doesn't belong to any sort of context.

I'm not lazy, I'm lethargic. Don't know in which context though, just thought of it. That might be another one of those weird sentences, by the way. Though it could be some truth in it. Can't bother analysing every little thing that invades my brain. Today I can't seem to analyse anything though, it just passes by and I'm sitting here confused. Like, I don't even know what's confusing me. I'm that confused...

Incoherent thoughts

How can I finish anything I ever start? Every little or big project I start goes very fast in the beginning and I just love doing it ...until I lose all inspiration and creativity, just like that. I can't concentrate, I can't even concentrate on this passage of text I'm writing right now. It feels like I have a lot on my mind but yet no clear thoughts come to me. I'm sifting through my love's every picture on Dayviews, but I don't know what I'm looking for. My comments perhaps, or I just wanna see how he's changed over the years.

What else is on my mind? Caffeine and sleep, I think. As I said, I can't snap up any clear thoughts, it's all just a vague murmur. It reminds me, in the shower before going to bed yesterday, I said out loud "You know you're schizophrenic when even your voices have disorganised speech". It holds some significance, but I'm not trying to talk myself into believe I'm schizophrenic, and I'm not intentionally parading it either, it was just something that came to mind when I realised that I and Anna often start conversations like in the middle of a sentence and then I ask her (or the other way around for that matter) what hell she's talking about.

That happens quite a lot, several times a day, multiple times a day, maybe 20 or something. I don't know. So yeah, I have very disorganised, incoherent thoughts that just seem to pop up from nowhere. I think they are someone else's thoughts that I snap up from the air or something. Like radio waves.

I'm not saying that I can read other people's minds, cause I can't. It's just that maybe some of our thoughts can be transported, detach and end up in someone else's head. Like radio waves. No, I'm not gonna wear a helmet of tin foil to protect myself from these thoughts, simply because it's nothing I need to protect myself from. But now I suddenly understand why some schizophrenics do that, put tin foil on their heads. It makes perfect sense! How delusional am I now again? I mean one must be a little bonkers to suddenly think that severely mentally ill people actually are having great ideas in dealing with mystical forces that I also believe in. Like some sort of shared delusion or something.

They're just random, jumbled up words and sentences with no reason or rhyme. Like: "I should get promoted because of how my kitchen looks. Maybe there could be a way to change that." to which Anna replies "What the fuck are you talking about?" and I just say "I have no idea".

I've lost my train of thought again. Well then, that'll have to be all for now.

Thoughts on parenthood

I believe I’m still sort of considering having a child one day. I don't really talk much about it. Like I somehow think I have no right to have one. There are so many mixed feelings around that topic for me. Hopefulness, love, fear, insecurity, comfort, doubts. Would I be able to provide for a child when I can just barely take care of myself? How the hell would I afford it? Would I become a horrible parent? Would my child inherit a lot of not so desirable things from me? Would I bring it up myself or with a partner? Would it become a burden for my parents, who basically hate kids? They'd frigging hate me if I would one day tell them I’m gonna be a father. I can't even imagine how angry they'd be, but somewhere around furious I take it.

Still, it should be my choice. And now society is moving forward with the transsexuals becoming parents issue. I believe I have good reasons to want a child, but I’m also smart enough to realise the complications around that. My life situation isn't exactly optional, and even though I think I could get some sort of allowance from Försäkringskassan in a situation like that, if I still can't hold a job by that time, or would be a single parent and therefor wouldn't have time for a job. But I’m seriously way too messed up for such a full-time job as caring for a baby is.

My random fear right now is that if I’m gonna wait til I get better, that waiting could become too long. I’m quite young now, but I think it would probably not happen in the nearest five or ten years. And seriously, I want a kid now, not in seven years! Okay, back to reality. These thoughts are haunting me, and I’m scared that if there will ever be a time for parenthood in my life, it will be too damn late. I would be too old and testosterone would have fried my female parts. Perhaps there could be some middle ground though, that in a few years, say three or four, if I’m in better shape then than I am now, then I can squeeze one out. I suppose that is a reasonable plan, if I could hold my horses for that long, that is.