Waiting

I see him everywhere. In pictures, and in real life. I know it isn't him, but my mind somehow interprets it that way. It's not like I think he looks like everyone or that everyone look like him. Cause that's really not the case. It's more like I just want it to be him. That it would be him walking past me on the street in Hemse, that he would somehow be here, close to me. If only to just say hi or even just a quick wave.

I need him so damn much, but he doesn't need me. I crave, long, ache for him. I'm trying to find substitutes but nothing works. Like holding ice can be a substitute for self harm but it doesn't quite cut it, you know what I mean? Yes, pun intended.

I'm so terribly lonely and sad. Wishing I could shift back to the light me again, but I'm coping better this way. And like this I don't have to "fear" shifting again. Cause it's better to shift from dark to light than the other way around, for some reason. I wouldn't say either is more positive or negative, but I like the lighter half better. It's because the dark half is triggered, the light isn't. I shift back when I'm ready or something and then shift to dark again when triggered by something bad. Apparently either state lasts about a few days.

My distractions aren't working today. And writing like this is hardly a distraction at all, rather the opposite. I play a lot of WoW, but I don't really want to. It doesn't help or anything. Just passing time cause I can't think of anything better to do. Putting cloth heirlooms on a balance druid. Well, intellect is good and I level faster. Who cares that I might come off as the noob I am? I don't have leather heirlooms yet.

I write so much and can't decide what I want to share or not. Most of it I don't want to share. A lot of rantings about K mostly. My worries and fears. I'm gonna try to go to sleep soon. Enough waiting for today. Yeah, I'm waiting every day now, for him. I'm restless and upset, something is ripping and tearing inside me. Not so fun going to sleep like this, but it's 3:47 and I can't stay up waiting for something that won't happen.

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.

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.

Care and hair

Another sleepless night. Though I don't get them that often anymore. Maybe once a week. Lied in my bed after waking up from a dream around 4:00 this morning, weighing pros and cons of getting up versus staying in bed. With the score of 3 vs. 4 getting up won.

I had my first dream in which I was post op tonight. In the dream I was lurking around the house where I grew up and met the husband of the family living there now (I have no idea who lives there now, but I think it is a traditional family, or so I've heard). We decided to take a road trip in the area and talk about whatever related to the fact that we had both lived in the same house, and then we totally fucked in his car. And yeah, I was post op in that dream...

It's like whatever "state" I'm in, it is reflected in my nightly dreams with only a few exceptions. Whether I was living as a girl, stopped trying to be a girl, angsty pre-everything transsexual, on hormones and now after top surgery.

Quite a journey, eh? When I look back I think it's nice to see how far I've gotten, you know. Maybe you do the same, cause we all change, even if you don't go through a sex change. It could be positive I mean, to rather see the progress to the better, than to be ashamed of how you've lived your life "wrong" before. Cause maybe it was "right" back then? I mean, maybe that was the only thing close to right you could do with what you had in amounts of time, events, courage, money, age and wisdom. I wasn't ready to transition when I was 16, wasn't ready to take that battle, so I can honestly say that I did what I could about the situation that I was in.

I need to wash my hair, cause it's getting nasty again. Can't decide if I should shower again though, cause that would be hitting the cap of allowed number of showers in a week. I'm way too impatient for my own good. Just let it be, let it heal, let it take the time it needs... Cause there really isn't anything else that I can do. But I just wanna inspect and see how it looks right about every five minutes.

Wanna bleach my hair again. Carefully as hell though, of course. Not a single drop will be anywhere near my chest. I'm always wearing protective clothes and towels to avoid skin contact and to not freeze my ass off meanwhile, so it should work.

But if I'm gonna bleach it today or tomorrow or whenever I find a good product to use, I really have to wash my hair first. But I could do everything in the sink if necessary. It's harder to reach everywhere and half my bathroom becomes flooded though. Maybe I'll decide later on.

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...

A new beginning

After the first night at home, and I'm constantly worried that I will pull some stitches or something. The night went fine though it hurt a bit when I shifted position so I didn't shift position much at all. Will lie on my other side next night.

I got some painkillers also, by the way. Sweet opioids. That is what you make morphine of, or in this case something called oxikodon, and I'm supposed to take them for moderate to severe pain. It's mostly for cancer patients, according to the information in the box.

Well, I'll be using them carefully to avoid getting addicted or "used to it", however you'd like to put it. I took one before I went to bed last night, cause it hurts more when I try to fall asleep. The pressure to the wounds and not finding a good position tend to make it a bit uncomfortable, and I do have sleeping problems already, so. But otherwise, when I'm sitting here by the computer I barely even notice the pain. It's there, kinda at the same degree as my headache, but it doesn't bother me that much. It helps being still, of course. Though I should probably move around a little bit. Maybe take a five minute walk around the house or something.

I still can't really believe it, that it's actually done. When you've been waiting for something to happen for a long time with anticipation, it might take a while to get that it's finally over, all that waiting. I'm a little like that now, like "is it real? I mean really, really real?" As the physical pain increases, the mental pain decreases. Get used to me ranting about this for some time now, cause I will have a lot of thoughts to share, whether you wanna hear it or not.

Weekly maintenance

Oh fuck, it's Wednesday. What do I hate about Wednesdays? World of warcraft is under its weekly maintenance. Shut down until 11 o'clock. Instead I try to listen to "The Hobbit" on audio book. But writing one thing and listening to another isn't easy. Not impossible, as you can probably tell, but sure not easy.

I recognise a little in the book, not just the imagery I get from the first movie, but the text itself. I remember my father tried to read it to me and my sister when we were little. It wasn't to our liking though, I couldn't understand a daft. Even though it was in Swedish back then and I listen to it in English now. Still haven't seen the second movie. Don't get me wrong, I really want to, it's just that my family didn't like the first one and therefore they didn't wanna see the sequel at the cinema. So simply I have to wait until it's out on DVD. And no, I don't know what's wrong with my family, to not like The Hobbit movie! Shame on them.

It's too early for this now... I can't concentrate. But can I ever? Concentrate, I mean, on anything at all. I think it's a shame that I can't read books these days. They take so much time and concentration and my attention span just snaps in two and my thoughts start to wander. I get ideas and it starts crawling under my skin, the need to do something else.

I can't concentrate on one particular thing for more than around 15 minutes these days. And before you say it, yes it includes world of warcraft as well. How do think I can write so much in a day and yet play so much WoW? I shift back and fourth and back and fourth all the time, about every fifteenth minute.

Just one more hour before I can log in... I hate waiting. But at least I know how much longer I'm supposed to wait. It's so much harder to be waiting when you don't know how long it's gonna take. Like waiting for my love, or for that surgery to take place.

When I have no guarantee, not even that it will actually happen. I lose hope, gain hope, and go through every possible emotion on the way. Love, fear, hate, anger, joy, excitement, restlessness, apathy, sadness, shame, guilt and combinations between them all.

I still haven't lost more weight since after Christmas, still stuck on 68 kg. Why the fuck can't I lose more weight? I need to get harder on myself, restrict my eating/food habits even further. I need to get down to 60 kg before the summer, but I just don't know how to without exercise. Cause I just have to admit that I hate moving around. I hate panting, sweating, feeling my body bounce around. It's disgusting.

I do get inspired when I see others working out or talk about it, it's not that, but if I just even imagine myself in that position it just makes me feel sick. Another part about being human that I just absolutely hate.

Keep listening to "Shallow grave" by The Birthday Massacre as I have been doing for the last one or two days now. Sometimes I take a break and listen to other songs by the same band. But that song is definitely my favourite.

30 more minutes... getting eagerly unsatisfied here. And I don't even know what more to write about. It's snowing outside. Third time this year, or maybe it's the fourth. We didn't get a white Christmas on Gotland. But now it's all white with slippery streets.

I've lost my boots. How does one lose a pair of huge, heavy leather boots?! I lose anything and everything whether it's possible or not. If I had a car I'd probably lose track of that one too. Lose as in "tappa bort" not "förlora". Just to make it clear. Wow, I don't think I've written a single word in Swedish here in months before now. Felt weird.

I'm worried about my love. Can't tell you why, but I have my reasons. I see signs that shouldn't be ignored, yet I can't think of anything to say. I recognise myself in him, and that alone is enough to get anyone worried. Yet no one else seem to be. Though there are just subtle signs, one could think it would bring up a little more attention.

Oh well, hopefully I'll think of something to say. Something not insipid or thoughtless, something that I would want to hear in his situation. Cause of course I care, I just don't know how to show it.

Breaking down

Okay, this mood of mine is making me wanna sink through the floor. What the hell am I supposed to do? And why the hell can't I wait with breaking down until I can see my shrink? I don't even know where to begin. With depression and suicidal thoughts could be a start, and then try to explain why. This time I don't have to plan my method of dying anyways, but I try my best not to perfect the plan.

For so long now I've been holding back my emotions, suffocating what's been suffocating me. But it always wins sooner or later. But I've held on this long, so why can't I keep holding on a little longer? Because sooner or later broken things patched together will fall apart again and again until they can no longer be repaired.

All I've been doing is waiting for this to happen. Unrequited love this strong is only destructive, and too heavy for my heart and soul to carry. I've been waiting for the scale to tip, cause as soon as I fell for him, I knew this was gonna happen. It was just a matter of time. Honestly, I thought it was gonna happen a lot sooner.

But a part of me still can't see me dying before I'm 27. My deceiving perfect age. Too high to be perfect? Well, the higher the better, because it's only two more years. It's only two more years. So will I try to keep holding on at least until then? Yes, I whisper yes, because right now I honestly don't think I will last that long. I've always known that I won't reach 30. Always. And it has always felt real to me. As real as the winter nights are dark, as real as snow falls white.

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.

Losing it

Saw my psychologist's today, and I told her about what has made me feel like shit these last few days. What I still won't mention in this blog, but yeah, it's about my crush as you might have figured out. I told her that I think I'm in some sort of shock, and she agreed that is likely. My heart was beating so fast when I told her, and I just couldn't stop the tears. I guess saying it out loud for the first time was a bit overwhelming. I've never cried in front of someone in her position before.

We discussed it a little, but as usual I only remember some of what was said. That she thought I should wait until I'm ready to let those feelings that I'm bottling up loose, and then allow myself to have them. I said it made me sad, and she talked about mourning. Maybe she implied that it's time to let go of my crush, but I don't wanna give up, not just yet. I'm still waiting for him.

Shortly after I got back home I kinda started to feel like I was losing it again, but didn't resort to any self harm or pill popping. Not that I thought I could do without it, I just didn't want to. So I fell asleep on the sofa instead. Thought sleeping was better than being awake. Don't know if I'll get any more sleep tonight though. I guess it depends.

Love is death

Once again my feelings are killing me, but I hold them back as much as I can, to stop myself from doing something incredibly stupid. But I know that if this won't make me give up, once and for all, I must really be holding on to life this time. But I don't even know why I hold on. When I don't even think anything good will come out of it. I've fallen in love with misery. Isn't it tragic that such a thing had to happen for me to want to stay alive? Maybe I don't even want to be happy, and that's what makes me a hopeless case. But I'm not a case, I'm a person.

So used to being broken, that the thought of not being broken is so far away I can't even imagine it if I try my best. Why should I even? Imagining a life I can never have is like imagining being someone else. Cause I can never be someone else, it's so pointless to dream. Have I finally learned that now? Or will I keep repeating it for as long as I'm alive? I hope that I will have learned it. I'm so tired of making the same mistakes over and over.

I'm so tired of repeating this mistake I promised not to do again. How could I once think that love would heal me, it's done nothing but hurt me. Love is death, it will be the end of me. I just know it. For I promised myself to never fall in love again, and this is where it has led me to. How can emotions be so dangerous? It's just a feeling. The emotions themselves are probably not so dangerous, but when they lead to total self destruction, they are.

My hopes are slipping away, like sand between my fingers. Desperately I try to hold on, clinging to every grain. They're dissolving, evaporating, and blowing away in the wind. I desperately try not to cry, to not let it devour me. One of my worst fears, but it was so likely to happen, and maybe that was why I feared it so much. Yet it isn't too late, it doesn't have to be the end of me. I've seen this happen before, it can still take another turn. It's not impossible. Yet I can't bear it.

This weight in my heart is just too heavy, but the numbness is keeping me alive. I force this sadness and hopelessness down, shove it down back the way it came from. I won't be able to much longer though. Sooner or later it will break out in full strength, and when it does... I don't know, I don't want to think about it. I'll probably tear the place down, I'll probably scream and cry my heart out and tear myself to pieces. But for now I drink my tea and smoke my cigarettes, I'm doing okay.

My last dance

My love is constantly on my mind tonight and the day that just passed. His existence has brought me hopelessness, heartache, jealousy and bitter joy, hope, longing, wishing, missing, dreaming. I'm cold and I constantly forget why, then I remember, and forget it again. Not even he can keep me warm, not from all these miles away. Every increasing thought make me feel like I'm drowning in despair. It hurts so bad tonight and I've lost myself in a distorted paradise of a future that will never exist. A slowly shattering dream that will never be. I need to hold on, not let it break me. Not yet!

Preparing for the worst isn't even an option, cause how does one prepare for death? Oh yeah, I've been doing that all my life, so what's the point really? I don't wanna think about it but the thoughts invade me and fucks with my mind. One of those things I just can't seem to be able to control and I don't think I ever will. I need to keep believing that it could one day become true, that I will finally know what being happy is like. Just once.

I need it for this life to ever become meaningful and worth living for. For all the love that I've ever felt that has choked me for so long and so many times to ever have meant anything.

Do you understand? If I won't ever experience mutual love in a good relationship everything I've ever felt for any romantic interest will have been for nothing. All this searing pain and hopelessness for absolutely nothing but pain and hopelessness. I can't bear that thought. Something good has to come out of it and this is my last chance. My last dance. Cause if I fall to pieces again I won't be able to continue. I'll shut the doors forever.

Maybe this is just nonsense. Have I ever been able to predict the future? Perhaps not, but one thing that I know for sure is: every time it's stronger, heavier, more powerful and painful than ever before. And the last time I was this fucking close to actually die because of it. I may not be a seer, but I know there's only so much you can take. Even I can't conceive of just how much I love him, but these feelings are beyond doubt something I have never felt before. I'll wait for him, and I'll continue waiting for as long as I can take this.

I've never had the patience and will to wait for someone like this before. Passively looking over my shoulder to see if anything has changed, keeping my distance further than I need and closer than I dare. Cautiously waiting for something that will most likely never happen. And shallowly walk in his foot steps miles away, pretending I just want to be his friend.

Incomplete

Thought I'm gonna start having some light work out on my living room carpet as my "next step" or what to say. The first step was taking walks daily, which I have now for a few weeks. So... time to go a little harder on myself. And taking a few minutes a day to do some sit-ups or whatever I can think of seems like a reasonable suggestion. So that's what I'm gonna (try to) do for a while from now on.

I guess I'm dragging it out, going to the gym. There are people there! Staring at me! While I'm sweating my ass off lifting 2 kg dumb-bells! So maybe I wanna get in shape before I dare to show my face in the place I'll go to to get in shape. Just until I'm fit enough to be considered "normal" rather than a disabled couch-potato. Celebrating my first actual work out since 2010, with extra lots of caffeine and some chain smoking.

I did some measurements, just to see where I am right now, or something. I think my ass might have gotten smaller, which would be awesome if that's the case! On the other hand, I couldn't help but checking if my future surgeon was right about me having a C-cup and started googling bra size calculators. Now I'm choking on my cigarette smoke cause all those websites say that my size doesn't exist! It's kinda funny. By the way, I think that surgeon was wrong, I'm way smaller than that. Just that I'm fat doesn't equal a bigger cup size, which he'd oughta know. Oh well... Can't wait to get that flattened out.

No really, I can't wait! Damn how long is this gonna take!? They said "this year" but it's already November, and unless they're planning on giving me surgery as a Christmas gift (which would be nice, for that matter), it's most likely not gonna happen this year. I wonder what the problem is. They declared me healthy as a horse and that I'm fit enough for it, so what's the damn deal?! Urghh... seems like I've done nothing but waiting for so long now. Will it ever happen? A part of me thinks that it will never happen. I'm gonna die incomplete.

Yeah, I feel incomplete. Disorganised, wrong, broken. I need to fix this. This is one of few things, perhaps even the only thing that can be fixed out of everything that is wrong with me. And maybe that is one of the reasons I find it to be so very important. I can do something about my body, it's fixable. It won't be perfect, but it will be better. And maybe someday I can look in the mirror and not feel this awful self hatred and disgust. It's not about passing, and I don't really have a problem showing myself to others. It's about living in this skin every day for the rest of my life.

Sometimes I think it's good that I get cold so easily, with my sort of impossibly low body temperature (35,5 celcius degrees) cause I get to hide under layers of clothing all year around. I don't have to wear a binder under a t-shirt, double hoodies and a morning robe cause nothing is gonna show anyway. All the clothes hide my curves and all that which I hate. I hide it from myself. That's right, I feel the most need to hide my body when I'm all alone in my apartment. Outside, whether going to the grocery store or a night club, I feel safe dressed up nicely and even wearing make up. But when there's no one around, that is when the anxiety hits the hardest.

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.

Hopelessly in love

I just wanna say so much about my love, but I can't. Afraid I’d lose him as a friend, afraid of fucking up my chances on ever getting together with him. Who would fall for their stalker? I know I would, depending on who it was of course, but that isn't saying much. Since I know the nature of stalkers, that they aren't necessarily ill-willed or living in a fucked up fantasy world. That it's not like in the movies. Maybe “stalker” is a too strong word for me, I have considered that option. And I hope that if he ever finds out, that he would accept me and not be too creeped out by my obsession. I could always hope, if it was to come to that.

I just want him to know how I feel, but I want it just as much as I want it to be mutual. But unless he's polyamorous and I’m living in a dream world, that's not the case. Sometimes I wonder if it would somehow have been different in a positive way, if I had fallen for him in another time of our lives. A year or two ago, a year or two in the future. I might still be chanceless either way, but somehow it's a comforting idea that it could also have be or been fantastic. That it that could have be possible in some intangible alternative universe, cause then it's not entirely hopeless. But my hopes are low to be honest. Almost nonexistently low.

But even if I could wait... for him to fall out of love with his girlfriend, or for her to fuck up their relationship, it could be months from now, even years, or never. I have been lovesick for very long time periods before. If I could just keep this on a survivable level, I know it's fully possible for me to keep this illusion up for up to at least 3 years. Just keep that awful thing called “reality” on an arm's length distance, or something. That was a long time ago I had such long lasting feelings for an unobtainable person though, in upper school, and things have changed since then. I didn't talk to that person then, I was literally in love with an idealised version of them. I’m not that shy anymore, just socially clumsy and have a hard time reading people.

I just don't know what to do with this now. I can't just sit here and wither away, and completely lose myself in his amazing blue-green eyes. Why do I seem to fall for people with greenish eyes all the time by the way? That's like the most uncommon natural eye colour a person can have! Am I developing a more exclusive taste perhaps? Cute guys and girls in my own age with amazing eyes and amazing hair. No, now I'm just describing my true love again, but then why was I so cryptic regarding gender? Just my bisexuality sneaking around there, I suppose, thinking that maybe someday I'll fall for and actually have a relationship a woman for a change.

I've actually thought of that as a severely tragic solution... That if I can't get Him out of my head and heart, maybe I could fall for someone else, someone of the opposite gender. And because I haven't actually tried that yet. I’m a sorry excuse for a bisexual person... I’m not saying you'll have to have experiences in order to confirm your sexual orientation, I’m just saying that apparently my interest for females is so damn low I’ve never actually given anyone a chance. And that, is to me a fault. But I can't really call myself “bi-curious” either, since I’ve been in love with girls before. Oh what the hell... am I saying I wanna go for a frigging test drive to get my mind of Him?