Making family history

Damn, what's up with me today? I can't stop thinking about my uncle... maybe I was disappointed that he didn't show up for the family Midsummer's gathering. It was just me and my parents cause my sister was sick. Well yes, I was disappointed. For every big holiday, I just keep wanting and hoping to see him, and even more so since he became single a year or so ago. I feel like I kinda should make my move before I actually fall for him, just so that if he'd flat out decline that sort of offer I won't cause myself another unnecessary heartbreak.

Oh, no fucking need to tell me this is weird, alright. I've already gone through several phases of feeling completely weirded out and messed up about my attraction to him, for years, since he caught my attention some 5 years ago. I still can't let those feelings go, and they're only increasing. Those nervous, heart-racing, I want to hold you, damn I want to feel you inside me, fuck I think I'm gonna pass out if we look at each other one second longer and shit what would my mother who's also your sister say? -kind of feelings, put bluntly into words. But after years of carrying those feelings and knowing I apparently can't ditch this attraction and getting to know him better and feeling more relaxed around him even though we don't exactly meet often, I've come to slowly get to the point of thinking oh what the heck? What's the worst that could happen, except from nervousness eating me up inside and him telling me that's the most inappropriate suggestion he's ever gotten in his entire 65-ish years long life?

Oh but I'd survive that too, I'm sure of it. And it would be more awkward seeing him at family gatherings again in the future after having asked him out for a date and been told that's really, really inappropriate and what the ever flying fuck, but after a while I'm sure I'd get over it and I'm sure he would too and we'd laugh about that memory. But I just have to know before I break my own heart over yet another guy I can't have. But also... what if I could have him? I'd be very careful talking about that sort of thing proceeding though, probably everywhere if that could happen then, in some far off fantasy land... cause that would be an illegal relationship. Oh, forbidden fruit is always the sweetest, isn't it?

But yes, I am certain of that my attraction to him is entirely genuine. For several reasons that I think might be helpful to know about us. Is that I never really knew him as a kid. Only briefly met him once or twice as a kid and/or teen and didn't get much of an impression at all of him as a person. As far as I know he didn't help caring for me as a baby, but it's possible that he did. Not like I can remember him changing my diapers or anything. I can't remember anything from Vallentuna, the first 2 years of my life. I didn't truly meet him until I was an adult, sometime around age 23-24, and we met as equals and as adults. Then and there, my feelings arose and lit a fire within me. A fire that's still burning.

There was never any kind of "authority" relationship between us, but there is one thing though... I know I've been subconsciously chasing for father figures basically my entire life, likely to try to fill the void my biological father should have been in. Sure he was always physically there, but he was never emotionally there. I basically never had any kind of emotional connection to him. I definitely have some "daddy issues" and that's probably why older men turn me on so hard, and also explains why I keep wanting them older and older. My preferred age for a boyfriend is literally following my father's age. How's that for creepy? Well it creeped me out as it just bloody hit me! That might also explain why I keep fantasising about sex with my actual father. And come think about it... (why is there more to this, ugh) the men that turn me on the most look very similar to my father visually. My subconscious mind is literally struggling to keep the two concepts "father" and "boyfriend" separate. It's mixing them together, and wants both in one.

Okay I didn't actually know my messed up relationship with my father actually runs quite that deep... that's scary! Cause I'm basically fucking, falling in love with and dream of meeting... mirror images of my father. Maybe I'm trying to fuck that pain away too? This is so fucking creepy I can't even...! Just because I felt neglected by him as a kid, and like he didn't really love me or care about me. And I definitely didn't feel understood by him. I often thought that my relationship with my mother was so strong and good that it made up for what I didn't get to have with my father... but apparently a very loud nope to that, huh.

So... anyhow! I think it's at least a bit likely that I see my uncle as somewhat of yet another father figure, cause there have been a few, over the years, but they never stay. They do look similar, they have similar humour, they're pretty much the same age although my uncle is 5-ish years older than my father; and although they're not related to each other, I'm related to them both which does create an indirect bond between them. But I don't think it's mainly or only that, beyond that shallow surface stuff. Cause I do see my uncle as an equal and not as someone to create any kind of "father-son" bond with, whether literally or spiritually. I'd want to create a normal boyfriend-boyfriend relationship with him that just so happens to have a huge age gap of around 35 years. Well... as normal as a consensually incestuous relationship could ever possibly be, I guess. But of course it's also highly possible that part of my attraction to him is that "forbidden" factor to it that draws me to it and pulls me in. Knowing I shouldn't. Knowing it would be illegal to fuck him.

Yeah I've battled my own feelings about how I'd actually feel about having consensual incest sex like that. Like would that be super weird like if I'd just suddenly notice how similar we look/are and not be able to stop thinking about how weird it would be doing something so taboo? Or would I rather completely forget about it the moment I'd feel his body pressed against mine and I'd just focus on how amazing that connection feels and how much I'd be yearning for him? Perhaps that feeling of it being weird would only hit me afterwards and I'd be like "oh shit, did I actually just...?!" Well, that does seem like the most likely reaction I could have about it, cause I don't think during sex, simply. But how I feel about it right now is... yeah it's totally weird, but at the same time it doesn't bother me. It's not a big deal to me but rather more fascinating even though the law scares me a tad. But I'm ultimately fine with it simply because we're both adults and if it would happen it would be completely consensual. So no harm, no foul, and nothing to get an existential crisis over.

But fucking hell what an aggrevating, completely victimless crime it would be! If I'd wait until after my hysto, regardless of how much I really don't want a kid either way, the law would have literally no damn good reason to forbid such a relationship. Cause otherwise yeah, there would be rather high risk of a kid getting genetically fucked up by being inbred. But I ain't gonna have any damn kids! So yeah, huh.

But what about my family's possible opinions on that though? I used to be very worried about that, but thinking some more about it and knowing my parents' values and morals... I don't think they'd be against it but rather just tell me to be really fucking careful. They'd surely be weirded out about it though, but I mean who wouldn't be? It might even be possible my mother would think there's some silver lining to that musty cloud, as in me choosing a guy that she'd actually know she can trust and that she knows well. But yeah, it would totally be awkward at first either way though.

I don't feel nearly as panicky about my attraction to him anymore, but I'm starting to feel a kind of pressure to make a decision on if to act or not, as I think I might be starting to actually develope a crush on him, and not just being sexually attracted to him. Knowing my wild heart, I know that's a very certain sign I'm highly likely to end up falling deeply for him if I let those sprouting feelings run unchecked and take root. If I even can stop it, I don't know. Well, at least I got 1,5 year of being single and not in love or crushing on anyone. Thanks for that much needed break, but I'm not sure if I'm ready for another such storm again. I don't think I ever am, but I'd appreciate it if I could at least know if I'd have a chance before that happens. Instead of the other way around, for a fucking change.

Whenever I see him in person, I feel my attraction to him like softly warming electricity between us and like I have to fight it to keep my appropriate distance. I have flirted, very very subtly, before, but I don't think he got the point. I get very turned on in his presense, by his presense, and feel very warm when he's close, I just completely yearn for him to touch me. Even just a hug. I know I would like that sooo much. To breathe in his elegant scent and feel his hair softly stroke against my cheek in contrast with his sharper stubble... fuck. When I fantasise about him, it's most often romantic, yet rough sex. Like it's very intense yet sensual, and it makes me cum very effectively without having to switch fantasy. I only fantasise like that when I'm about to fall for someone, unless it's Caspian I fantasise about, cause I was born already in love with him.

I've no idea if he's into guys at all. My broken gaydar only gives me the vague impression that he could be bi or bicurious or that he quite likely doesn't care about such labels and is more like "whatever happens, happens" which can also only give me vague hopes. But he could also be completely straight which also nags at me. Of course he knows about me being trans and he's totally cool with that, but would he be into that? Fuck would I know. And then about the whole being rather closely related ordeal? I've no idea if he'd see that as a complete deal-breaker or if he'd consider it worth a shot. He's not exactly a conservative kind of person and is very much for that old saying "as long as it doesn't hurt anyone, it's fine" just like I am. But more than that I really don't know. And the hopeless idiot I am still keeps hoping at least part of the reason he broke up with his ex gf was me... but not likely, I fucking get it, that's why I called myself a hopeless idiot. But oh yeah, I was flirting with him, although subtly, when he was still with her. But never when she could see, of course. I hoped so badly that he would break up with her, and then when I finally got those news... I was so happy I couldn't stop smiling in the phone when my mother told me! So, another reason to take my fucking chance while he's still single.

I know I want to get to know him more closely. I know I truly do want to have sex with him. That it's not just my mind feeding me with uncomfortable thoughts (cause it's not uncomfortable even, it's sweet and it's hot hot hot so freaking hot). Somehow I think I can tell the difference. That if a wanting to fuck any certain "forbidden" person isn't just sexy but also comes with a feeling of disgust, no matter how slight, and feeling more awkward and not really turned on around that person in real life, then it's most likely just my brain teasing me halfway to madness and not a genuine attraction. But this isn't like that at all. I feel no disgust connected to my wanting of being that close to him, and he does truly turn me on in real life by just being in the same room as me, as though he was any hot guy I wanted to fuck so badly I'm almost literally steaming. Damn, I feel it the most intensely when we're alone on my parents' porch to smoke cigarettes (cause he's a smoker too) and in those awkward silences that are also surprisingly soothing, I just feel my entire body pounding for him and holy fuck my briefs get sooo soaked it's like my pussy is taking a bath. That's what I'd call a self-cleaning vagina!

Why am I like this? This is definitely one of those things I just want to whack myself in the head for and yell at myself that "Why him? Of all the guys on this stupid planet, why someone I'm so closely related to? It makes it so much more complicated and scary." For all those 4 or 5 hours I stayed at my parents' place today where he was not, I couldn't stop thinking about him and elaborating on my fantasies of us as a loving couple. And just to remind myself of the difference between genuine and non-genuine family attractions... I did glance at my father across the table for a very quick fantasy just to check, but I instantly felt my stomach turn at that thought. Nah, I don't think I want my father that way in reality. But then as I slipped back into the thoughts of my uncle, my stomach immediately calmed down again and I had to try hard to stop freaking smiling at the thoughts to make my parents not ask me what was on my mind as I wouldn't have known what to say.

But would I ever dare to ask him out? I know I have his number somewhere, as my mother gave it to me a while ago. But I've never dared to call him. I think my heart would beat all the way out of my chest and flop down on the floor if I so just tried to dial the number... He lives rather close to me, as far as I know. That he lives in the same village even... so meeting up would not be difficult. Also he has his own business so he's not away for work during the days. He has a workshop on his own yard. I think though that if I'd ever dare to make that kind of move, he'd just think it's me just being friendly and think it's totally innocent... so I'd likely have to be quite direct about it and holy crap I want to throw up just thinking about doing that... cause of my nerves killing me! I have taken the first step before, but I've never taken such a first leap as asking someone out for a date before, and nor have I ever been actually direct with my flirtings before either...

I'm gonna need to really, really think this through and try to think of a way of how to possibly fucking manage making such a move without literally passing out while attempting to. Or losing my ability to speak cause of hyperventilating way too hard. Just the thought makes me dizzy... If only it had been ANY other guy! Oh fuck, I hate my heart. I've said it before but it definitely needs to be said again: my heart is the most annoying thing I've ever had to put up with.

How big is the risk that me making such a move would cause a massive strain on my family? Or is it more likely to not be a big deal, whether it goes well and he responds positively or if it doesn't and he's not interested? However I don't think my parents would need to know right away, or at all if it goes nowhere. I guess unless he'd just randomly start talking to his sister about it... perhaps I should ask him not to! That just kiiinda feels like something that should stay between us, unless it would eventually become an actual love story.

Well, if it doesn't go well that would still most certainly be somewhat of a feat of strength (and stupidity) to be able to with honesty say I've asked my uncle out for a date! Like in a future then. Not that many people have done such a thing with sincere intent, I'm guessing. But that's exactly what I mean by that I'm often balancing on the border between crazy and brave. Is it crazy or is it brave, if I'd really ask him out, considering all the possible consequences and my inescapable shyness? Maybe bits of both. And if I can manage to get myself to actually go through with that and it's a no from him, I'd also know not to let my heart loose in that direction, and thus, hopefully preventing myself for yet another case of unrequited love. Cause I've had enough of those for a life time!

But uuuh, heaven's help me, what am I supposed to do and how do I conjure up such courage? To pick up the phone and give him a call, if I can even find his number? This phone-phobia is not exactly helping. But if he'd ask me why I want to meet him, should I then tell him or keep it to myself until we'd actually meet? Maybe I'd just give him a hint. Oh shit, I might be making him extremely uncomfortable... uh, I hope not? I'll try my hardest to be as careful yet direct as I possibly can. Like maybe better to ask him stuff relating to that and keep it strictly verbal and clean but not sterile, to try to avoid unnecessary awkwardness. And then only if he'd respond positively or at least hesitantly, I could try something a bit more daring. But I mean nothing crazy like jumping in for a kiss or anything at that kind of point. I mean, something like maybe just stroking his hand or something.

Another thing, a question that also keeps nagging at me, that is about his age. I really do like older men so it's not that at all, but how much longer will he reasonable be around for? A decade? 2 decades? Hardly more than that as he's somewhere in his 60's. And how much longer will I be around for? Well at least 3 more decades if not 4 or 5 even. Could I possibly cope with a boyfriend dying from me when I'd have half my life left to live without him? That question. It keeps nagging at me, and it won't leave me alone. That's the painful reality, the only real actual downside, of loving older men. Of course it gets even more intense when he's also a relative. One that I very much care about either way. No matter how I'd twist and turn it, and no matter if it could lead to something beautiful or not, the day he's gone will likely fill me with a sorrow I've never yet felt. The sorrow of losing a loved one. Not looking forward to that. And let's not even get me started on his family history of Alzheimer's being the same as mine... not now. I'd just hope I could get to have those one or two decades by his side, if I'd end up falling for him and if it could really go that well, and hope he doesn't start forgetting me. Fuck, I'm too young to worry about these sort of things! But my age doesn't matter in this context. Enough darkness.

Except from how very scary and heavy all those thoughts are... I do feel very happy and excited just thinking about him... as a potential boyfriend. Well, in my dreams he is a potential, at least. But yeah, it's scary, to think of actually proceeding with asking him out for a date... but at the same time I just need to know, and I want to do it nicely, cause I'm pretty sure I won't be changing my mind if he'd also want to proceed, however slow or fast I'm in no hurry with that and would actually prefer to take it slow cause of my own emotional issues, and I know I can generally handle rejection well if he wouldn't want to proceed. I've been pining for him for 5 years... that is literally the longest I've ever had sweet feelings for any person since that teacher I had a crush on between ages 11 and 15... no, that was just 4 years. Well I'll be damned, he broke that record... and I didn't even notice...

Just for some clarification of that time lapse there... I am polyamorous, meaning I can have romantic attraction towards several different people at the same time, or crushes at least. So there's been a lot of overlapping with my crushes and loves over the years ever since I was a kid. Told you my heart is a mess. But then my feelings for my uncle have so far only been sexual although almost bordering to romantic but not quite toppling over that edge. Oh damn, you've no idea just how hard I've held myself back from falling for him... cause of how utterly complicated if not impossible it would be to have such a relationship if he'd even be interested back... but now I'm starting to feel like that lifeline has been stretched too far and might just snap at any moment. My god, Satan, help me?

Unwired (poem)

I sought my carelessness like a faulty machine
seeking its master while tumbling down a ravine
and all the connections I tried to build
fell apart by the joints, unfulfilled

I wired my subconscious mind around my ankles and wrists
pulled tighter, held closer to the presense of their twists
for a night time in my reluctance to guard my heart
I sought to find release from the wires holding my every part

Blood seeping through as I try to hold my mind in pieces
scattered across the sheets until the thought ceases
to ramp up in counsciousness, oh wire me tighter
before you cut me free and pull me an all-nighter

As far from love as affection goes
and as far from sanity as freedom grows
who knows
a drive that never slows

Wider and wilder, open me up
I don't know how to stop
yearning for your pleasure to be embraced by mine
and for our breaking bodies to intertwine

My sirens echoing as I straddle on closer to push you in deeper
now my own lust will become my reaper
for all my reasons will vanish into your skin
and I breathe deeply as I become what can't begin

But who defends
a drive that never ends
when all the connections I tried to build
fell apart by the joints, unfulfilled

A life of learning how to piss

I think we could call this blog entry somewhat of an EZP stp review, as I did kinda end up going in depth about my experiences with it so far, and also what more I need to practice and figure out about it, and some issues I've run into about using it. But then I also rant about other things that are more or less related to that.

How seldom do I really need to pee? I've recently wondered. Cause I think I only peed once the day before yesterday, and twice yesterday. Usually I want to wait until it's a strong need so I can more easily go with the stp, but once yesterday and then this morning I could go without it being super urgent. I hope my kidneys are doing fine, considering how seldom I pee, as lately, since I started using my stp and paying more attention to my peeing, I've only done it 1-2 times per day. I still drink a lot of water and coffee, and think I'm only mildly dehydrated. Sometimes my pee is very lightly yellow, other times it's golden or even deep orange, which is probably the best indicator I have to go by in determining how dehydrated I am.

But I also know my bladder is really huge (stretched over years of practicing holding it, to deal with my childhood incontinence that lasted far up into my teens, and last time I really had to deal with that issue I was 18 years old, but it was only a constant issue until I was 15, but now it's a thing of the past) and I probably pee out more than half a litre per time, cause it's a very heavy stream that lasts at least a couple of minutes, sometimes up to 5 minutes. I haven't ever measured the full content of it (by peeing into a bowl or pitcher then), but I know for a fact it most definitely does not fit in a 2 dl cup by very far, from urine tests I've taken for medical reasons.

It's so weird though, but in an amazingly good way, that ever since I used my stp for the second time (few days ago) and figured out how to make myself release it right away... it seems I've cured my "shy bladder" situation. It used to take me forever to make myself release the pee even when I was sitting down on my own toilet at home while completely alone and no pressure on me what so ever. Like I usually had to sit and focus on relaxing and letting it out for at least 5-10 minutes unless I was in a panicking need to pee like literally unable to hold it. Like it never worked instantly, sometimes even when it was urgent. I used to have the tap running or listening to music or holding my one hearing ear to block out sounds around me, closing my eyes, taking deep breaths, focusing as much as I could to relax, reading a comic, like anything I could possibly think of and it still sometimes wouldn't work so I had to give up and try again later.

For all my life, peeing has been such a fucking nuissance I don't even have words for how incredibly frustrating it's been! No one else ever talks about having those kind of issues, but I'm not gonna be ashamed over what's essentially just a medical issue about a very natural bodily function that literally everyone has, cause everyone pees. And if me talking about it can help others feel less ashamed over having suffered the same, even better! But yeah, all of my childhood and most of my teens I had undiagnosed incontinence, meaning I couldn't hold my pee quite a lot of the time, or a few times a week at least. It got from "no need" to "bloody fucking urgent" in a split second and then all I could do was while sitting jam my heel into my crotch and try to massage it to some kind of lesser urgency cause then I was stuck sitting like that until I could gain some control over it, cause if I got up to go to the bathroom I peed myself and there was nothing I could do.

My boy room where I slept as a kid was on the second floor, the farthest away from the bathroom possible. So at night when in urgent need to pee I had to run through a hallway, down a curved flight of stairs, through the vestibule, the kitchen, the living room and another hallway before I finally reached the bathroom - and by then it was usually too fucking late and I had left quite a trail after me...

I wet my bed hundreds of times, also when it wasn't my own bed at home, and peed through probably all of my pants and panties at some point or another. What triggered it I'm not sure, but laughing very hard was always very risky, and going to bed without having peed the evening before. Being extremely nervous could trigger it as well, and many times it just happened for no apparent reason. While at the same time I couldn't make myself pee when I was actually on the toilet! Can you imagine my utterly sheer frustration with my stupid bladder!? Or my stupid brain, rather, cause it was most likely a neurological issue more or less tied to my asperger. Possibly also the trauma stuff, but I had those issues long before my bullies fondled me, so that didn't cause the issues. But that's also a reason I think maybe I was abused when I was too young to remember it, cause incontinence is a very common reaction for kids who've been abused, especially sexual abuse.

But I think it was mostly just that my body/brain sucks at giving me the right signals at the right times, cause it's always been the same with my hunger and tiredness; meaning I feel no hunger at all until I'm suddenly starving, and I feel no sleepiness at all until I suddenly can't keep myself awake, and I'm not sure if I can even feel thirst at all (I just get a dry mouth from my meds and then feeling dizzy after a long time of no water). There's just no in-betweens, it goes from no signal to extremely urgent. I think why that is, is because of a poor brain-body connection in me, which could be an asperger thing, but it is still a mystery cause it seems to be rare and not understood in the medical field. All the doctors just shrug and look confused at me before they sigh and say "could maybe be your asperger?" so there's that, huh.

In my childhood I tried to talk to my parents about it, and they were very much aware of the issue cause quite often they changed my bed sheets after an accident and they gave me a plastic blanket to keep under my sheets on the mattress of my bed and told me to learn to hold it, but other than that they weren't really helpful. When I was 12 and first got my period, wearing such pads was mildly helpful (also a big reason I always preferred thick pads over tampons). It only helped if it was a mild accident, but often I just peed right through that damn thing along with my pants and if I was sitting on a cushioned chair... aw, man! That sucked. I did try to practice holding it and eventually I got to the point where I could hold it for several hours at a time, but I still had moments when it was just impossible to keep it in.

I don't know what eventually made the frequency of accidents decrease, sometime when I was around 15 years old, but it could have been because that's when I graduated from that school that sucked the life out of my soul and inhabited all of my previous bullies and so on. I hated that school and finally being free from it was a huuuge relief. So it could have impacted my mental state enough to give me more control over my bladder, but that's a theory at best. Since then it only happened sporadically, maybe a few times a year. Then as I said before, the last time I remember it happened was when I was 18. I was with R (that manipulative boyfriend) at a bus stop in Uppsala while waiting for a bus to take us back home again, and we were there with a few of his classmates as well, who were good friends.

They were telling some jokes that I thought were extremely funny and my hysterious laughter triggered my bladder. I knew that was way too familiar so I instantly sat down on the ground as I always did to quickly and (rather) effectively try to prevent a leak. I did manage to prevent it that time, luckily. Only a few drops escaped into my pantiliners. But of course it was embarrassing at the time to cause that kind of scene in front of other people and in public at that, cause of course they all understood what was going on. They weren't mean at all about it though, but it was just the last thing I wanted for much of anyone to know about me, regardless of how kindly they took it. But me managing to prevent it that last time it happened, might have actually been a huge stepping stone to me learning how to control it and keep preventing it. Okay it has happened after that, but then only while being very drunk, and I don't quite think that counts, and it was just a few times up until I was like... 21 or 22, I think?

Jeez, I think the only reason I had that fucking issue all the way up until my damn 20's was because my parents were so neglectful about it when I was a kid. I'm actually amazed that I managed to sort it out on my own eventually... Cause now I'm confident it won't happen and it doesn't ever happen anymore, whether sober or drunk. And also, that's kind of why I have such an easy time controlling my stream with using my new stp now and I mean I have very good control over it. I could play melodies with it against the toilet bowl! Also considering how much pee I can get out at once, I could make an entire 5 minutes long song before running out of it! I'm laughing at this right now...

So anyhow, up until around 8-9 years ago I struggled with not being able to stop the pee from flowing. And since forever up until very recently I also struggled with not being able to get the pee to flow when I needed for it to... So that has just been an overwhelming amount of pee-frustration in two opposing ways. You could say it clearly piss-ed me off! Pun totally intended, cause that one was too good to resist. Okay so that was a long rant about my past pissues, let's get back to present time:

Now as soon as I've positioned the packer and made sure it's in the right location and I've angled the dick right, it takes less than 2 seconds until I'm able to go. Every time. Like I just "do it" and have zero issue with it... it's so strange, cause most trans guys who've ever used stp's have the opposite situation, meaning they struggle much more to pee with the device than without it. I think what makes it the reverse for me, might be cause of some underlying pee dysphoria I wasn't aware of that I even had, that got relieved when I used the stp and it relaxed me. Like my body/mind on some subconscious level finally got to pee "the right way" and something connected and clicked within me.

I never thought that using an stp could be an actual "need" for me, dysphoria wise. I always just thought it could be practical and somewhat gender affirming, but I never thought my satisfaction from using one would turn out to be quite this rewarding. It amazes me that I found a solution that I didn't know I was even looking for, by just trying it out for fun. Before when I tried to use my old stp, the "Mr. Fenis" one, I really struggled to go with it at all, because I didn't trust it at all and knew I was gonna spill with it, because I always did spill with it no matter what I tried to do. Then that made me tense and not relieved, one way or the other. It's also not a very realistic looking stp, it just barely resembles a very plain dick with a vaguely pronounced head and in one solid caucasian skin colour. It's also big and clumsy, which further made me feel "off" and insecure about using it.

But with this EZP one, it works so well that I managed to let myself trust it almost right away, and that me trusting it, was what made me able to make myself go instantly. I did spill with it once, few days ago, and I know that it can happen at some point or another cause it's still possible I may misjudge the positioning cause of being unfocused or forgetting, but I still feel I can trust it, despite that. And that is actually huge.

For me and my extreme trust issues, I mean. Perhaps it seems silly, that my trust issues even extend in inanimate objects, but they do, cause that's how deep that wound goes. And maybe that's a reason why I get so angry at things when they don't behave as I want for them too, as if they prove to me I still cannot trust them either and that pours salt in that old wound that never fucking heals. Because it cannot heal for as long as I refuse to let myself trust. My fear and reluctance is like an infection to that wound, and having that fear being "proven" to be valid again and again by objects not "obeying" me, only worsens that infection and makes that figurative wound grow bigger. Or at least that's my theory. But I also think there's no one explanation/reason as to why I get angry so easily, but a whole nest of underlying reasons that intertwine and fight with each other. And I think I'm not yet even half aware of what most of those reasons are.

So, me being able to trust that stp is indeed a huge thing. And it's a wise kind of trust that allows for mistakes, which I think only makes that connection stronger and more likely to hold for a very long time. It's like my feeling towards it says something like: "I know you're not perfect and you will make mistakes and fail me at times, and I know someday you might break or get lost so I might have to replace you and hope I can get another of the same kind... and I hope you won't fail me when I most need you to work, but it's okay if you do and I'm strangely fine with all of that. I trust that you WILL work while at the same time I don't expect you to, and I forgive you if you don't." And that... is a kind of trust I have literally never known, never felt, never had before. Towards anyone or anything.

So... it might just be that this new stp not only relieves dysphoria I didn't even know I had, but also is a stepping stone to managing my very deep trust issues, which I totally didn't expect at all. Oh hell yes, I'm bringing it with me everywhere from now on! Even though I rarely come across any men's bathrooms that even has urinals, just using it in a stall would obviously work fine as well. Just make sure I won't spill over the edge in a public bathroom, cause that's not nice. But yeah, whenever I might get to somewhere there are urinals, I need to try using my stp there as well. I've never peed into a urinal before... that makes me both giggly excited to try it and nervous at the thought.

I know in the men's locker rooms at the swimming hall they have one of those wide urinals that looks a bit like a bathtub where you could stand at least 2 or 3 guys at the same time, and it's located in a separete, open room next to the showers, but I'd be naked if I'd be near that urinal and it would be a tad weird for me to use my stp while naked cause I don't think I can keep it in place as it is with no underwear or harness to keep it in place. And also a bit awkward cause other guys there would see it's not a real dick if I literally attach and detach it! I might be able to hide that action though, by facing a wall while fiddling and keeping my towel close at hand for when not having the stp attached to my crotch, and hiding the stp in the towel and/or the plastic bag I'd carry my soap bottle and swimshorts in. It might be tricky but doable.

Otherwise I don't know what public place I ever go to where there might be urinals. Only place I can think of is the ferry that goes between Visby and the mainland, but I'm not traveling with that one often at all. That "Creative Media" place I go to sometimes (that job-training thing) doesn't have urinals at their toilets. Just two regular toilets in stalls. So no such practice can be done there. As far as I can remember, the gym here in Hemse (that I haven't been to for the past 4 years) didn't have urinals either. The hospital/psychiatric department in Visby doesn't either. Maybe I could go to a random bar/pub somewhere in Visby to get drunk at and hope they have urinals, cause I can't think of any other place I could possibly practice that except from the swimming hall.

Cause I want to practice that despite so seldom being in a situation I'd pretty much have to. Because you never know when in any future I might actually need that particular skill/confidence. If I'd travel to visit my friends on the mainland again and go clubbing with them and then find myself in a desperate need to pee but the only stall in the men's room is occupied but the urinals have space, for example. I'm confident enough that my stp looks realistic enough to not look suspiciously fake for any cis guy who might catch a glimpse of it at a urinal. Especially if they're drunk at some night club or bar. Then I could probably use a fucking beer bottle painted with some beige paint as an stp and cis guys would be like "dick looks fine to me" if you catch my drift. Sometimes I really wonder if drunk guys can even tell the difference between a dick and a beer bottle... maybe that's why straight guys get gay when they drink...!

Sooo... I wouldn't worry about my stp not passing around drunk guys, and I also don't think I need to worry about it not passing around sober guys either. I mean, as long as I'm not using it in a very obviously weird manner that gets attention. I know that when I position it now, I have to kinda stand in a wider stance and bend my knees outwards a bit to get it positioned correctly before I can close my legs again, aim and pee. That might be a weird manouver that I might have to work on making more subtle first. The shape of my thighs is what makes it tricky to position the stp, but also is what makes it easy for the stp to stay well in place once I've positioned it right. I have kind of a very small "thigh gap" of 2-3 cm just at my crotch, before my thighs get much wider and then thinner again before the knees. So, that means I have to get that stp into that space that is my "thigh gap" which is a bit tricky, but once its there that little space is a perfect holder for it cause of my thighs keeping it in place from both sides and underneath. So when I pee through it, I don't need to hold it in place underneath. All I need to hold is the shaft to angle it downwards a bit and aim. So my body shape isn't ideal for it, but it totally still works.

But I'm thinking if maybe I can get it in place more subtly by standing a bit wider in stance and without bending my knees outwards try to like... slide it into that gap or space. It might not work if there's too much friction with the material of the stp against my hairy thighs. But, I'll try it nonetheless. Otherwise maybe I can position it well long before and keep it there as a packer so when I'll need to use it I can just whip it out like any cis guy would do it. It would be placed very low though, compared to cis dick.

But one thing about that which seems most trans guys are not aware of cause they're not total gay sluts like me... is that some cis guys actually have their dicks located very low, in a position that's very close to where my clit is on me. So cis dick location is actually very individual and can vary by several cm in height. Some cis guys I've been with had their dicks so low that their balls were very far back between their legs. Just a thought for when trying to figure out best way to position any kind of packers: whether it's high up or low down actually doesn't matter. But as a pointer: just 2-3 cm above the clit seems to be the most common location, in general. But anywhere between clit and about 10 cm above it are all natural variations in cis dick placement!

I definitely need to try using the stp at home while drunk! Let's see if I can hit the bowl, huh? Or if I'll shower my entire bathroom with piss... Well maybe that will be enough of a push to make me finally clean up in there. However, I don't want to get myself drunk that soon again. Although I might get drunk on Midsummer's but then I might have sexy company so practicing with the stp then might be weird... but I do plan on bringing it with me to use for peeing even when/if I'll have company. He might watch me, he might not. I haven't told him about me using an stp when we talked about both liking piss sexually... so me using that thing at some point or another might be a turn on or a turn off for him. I've just no idea. But of course I hope it would be a turn on for him... Cause I think it totally would be for me! Like it totally turns me on right now just thinking about peeing on or in him while using my stp... He's actually a bottom gay guy, and I'm just getting all sorts of ideas about that. Like maybe I'd want to ask him if I could penetrate him and/or play with his ass... He did show me some pics of his butt and it's a totally sexy butt! I'd love to get cosy with it, if he'd want for me too. I get the feeling he'd be totally up for it, but maybe just assuming I wouldn't be.

It does make me totally nervous thinking about penetrating another guy, but just general butt play on the giving end I'm less nervous about and more secure in that I know I like. So... maybe I could start by suggesting something more along the lines of touching, fingering and eating his ass out, and then if so, see if that could possibly proceed if we'd both be into it. But how come me, a bottom guy, ended up planning sex with another bottom guy? Well, he does seem to be kinda more of a verse bottom and expressed interest in penetrating me, and since I'm curious about topping as well, and into some more or less "topping stuff" like rimming another guy, being on the giving end of many kinks, etc... I'm sure we could have a lot of sexy fun together even though we're both at least primarily bottoms, cause seems we're both not exclusively bottoms.

He is very hot and handsome, not a whole lot older than me, a shy and sweet guy with a dirty mind whom I have a lot in common with in the sexual aspect... I somehow feel rather safe around him even though we haven't even met yet... and that makes me consider it more directly that maybe I'd actually want to try topping with him, even though he's a stranger. But we'll see if I'd even dare to ask him about it, and if we'll even manage to meet up. And also how well we'd "click" sexually in real life. But it's a thought and it's an idea that I'll be holding on to.

I think me exercising and working out as much as I do these days, actually discourages me from drinking alcohol though. Cause I know how bad it is for the body to work out while drunk or soon after/before drinking or while hangover. And I'm much more focused on working out than getting drunk, so it gets down-prioritised. And that's good though, isn't it?

But back to my packer. Despite how amazing it is and what an amazing tool it is, there is a downside to using it that I have not quite brought up yet. I don't want for that issue to discourage me, cause it does mean I can't really use it as a packer, like keeping it in my pants for a longer time, unless I can figure out a solution for this issue that has arisen, a few days ago. What it is, is that when I wear it positioned as a packer in my briefs, the cup part of it kind of "vacuum locks" my actual genitals into that cup part. And what happens with that is... well, they swell. And after just an hour or two my pussy doesn't look very good and it's a little uncomfortable. What I'm saying is, that my stp basically functions as an unintentional "pussy/dick pump" and I don't think that's entirely healthy if it goes on for too long or I'd forget about it, cause I don't feel it initially. Like it could cause bruising and possibly even block bloodflow, cause the swelling gets uneven like a lot in some areas and barely any at all in other areas. Then the swelling areas could get too swollen and get bruised, and they could potentially block bloodflow in the non-swelling areas.

When it's just been few minutes to an hour and only twice so far before I decided to not wear it as a packer in my briefs but instead keep it in my bathroom and only use it as an stp when I get the need to, I don't think I should worry about it. But it does mean that's an issue currently preventing me from simply wearing it, unless I can figure out a way to position it that doesn't cause that vacuum-locking situation to occur. In the instructional video about this stp on the website the guy said the edge around the cup part of the stp would not touch against your body all the way around... but for some reason that's exactly what it does on me, preventing any and all air from getting in between my crotch and the silicone, which is what's causing that vacuum, that in turn creates a "sucking" pressure which then swells my actual genitals, in pretty much the same way a (manual) dick pump works.

So, as for a solution, I need to find a way to place it there without the entire edge of the cup part touching my body so that air can get in between me and the stp. But how??? Ugh, I've no idea. I tried placing it higher up - didn't work. I've tried pushing it to the side a bit - didn't work either. There's not really that much else I can think of, you know. Lower down and it would be very inconvenient and leave me with no visible bulge at all, plus I would literally sit on it then. Except I could try to maybe put something between me and the stp, like a piece of toilet paper or a pantiliner, maybe. But I worry that might make using it as stp more difficult cause of papers or what not being in the way. It locking against my body like that is very good when peeing through it, cause it prevents spilling very well. But it doing that when not peeing with it might actually injure me. Tough shit, huh? Well I'll continue thinking about it and hope I get a good idea at some point.

On the positive side of that though, it does collect my pussy juices really practically in the cup part, and then I "rinse" that goo away from the stp whenever I pee next time. That's a neat thing, but makes the stp stink a tad more quickly.

Other than that I don't think I have more to say about my stp habits so far, or all of my various pee issues. However I'm looking into maybe buying some extra large non-latex condoms... been realising the ones I already have at home will be way too small for a lot of guys. I can very barely stuff one of those onto a barely medium-sized dildo, it takes a lot of effort and it sit very tight on it. Also cause non-latex condoms aren't as flexible as their latex counterparts. And I know not having big enough condoms that won't cause an allergic reaction is a huge reason I'm too often skipping condoms altogether. Yeah I can whine about it all my life how fucking inconvenient my latex allergy is, but it's not gonna go away and it's also not an excuse to skip condoms altogether.

I googled some xl non-latex ones and I did get a few results, so maybe I should order some of those then. I should have thought of this sooner though, cause I might need them in just a few days, in which time they might not arrive, unless I'm lucky as fuck enough that the guy I have plans with actually already has some non-latex ones available and with him. But I highly doubt that cause that kind of allergy is pretty rare and not something most people even think about unless they themselves or their partner has that allergy. And I just really, really doubt my current condoms would fit on this guy unless some kind of miracle happens! Yeah okay so I at least ordered a pack of extra large non-latex condoms, 10 in a pack for 180 kr (around 19-20 euro). I don't think I'd need more than ten of them quite this soon, and if I will I think it would be fine to just order more next week or so then. They don't tend to last forever (about 2 years though) and hardly every guy I am/would be with is quite that well-endowed. I chose some "fast order" option that didn't cost me that much more, so I'll hopefully get them before Midsummer, but yeah here's me crossing all my fingers and toes for that.

Cause even though I'm not the one equipped with dick, I kinda have to be the one making sure condoms are available because it's me with the inconvenient latex-allergy that means it's difficult to find condoms I can even use, in most physical stores. I really can't have sex with latex condoms, it's so painful I'd just rather not have sex at all then... and I know for a fact it's the latex that makes it painful and not some lack of lube or lack of arousal or too big dick or whatever. It's been incredibly painful with small dicks and heaps of lube of being so damn fucking aroused I thought I was gonna flip off to crazy-land. And that pain is also very different from friction-damage and pain from being stretched too far too quickly. Latex pain is much more long-lasting and like a literal "slow burn" cause it feels like a burning sensation. That's just not something I want in my sex life if I can at all possibly avoid it.

This guy seems very keen on protection, which I think is very understandable and reasonable and I'm definitely not complaining about that, cause I know I really need to start using them as well. I'm not complaining about him or anyone else wanting to use them with me, I'm really just complaining about my own reluctance to use them, and of course I'm also complaining about the existence of std's in general, and the existence of my own annoying reproductive system that I surely want yanked out of me so I won't ever have to worry about pregnancies, at the very least. I wish that yanking out my uterus could prevent me from getting std's as well though. Better finish this shit off now or I never bloody will.

Candy and liquor stores

Can you fuck dysphoria away? That thought just hit me in Swedish and it struck me as so bizarre when I thought of how I came to start liking my pussy again.

My strange experiences with packing with my new stp is bringing back those not so old thoughts of bottom surgery again. Not in the sense I'm re-considering it again, but more in an analysing past thoughts, kind of way. As I placed the packer in my underwear to try to see if I could pull it out peeing style in briefs that had no pocket and my leather pants that were the only fitting pants with a low enough fly, it worked just fine and seeing that ultra realistic silicone dick poke out of my fly as though it was my own... and as I stroke its smooth head and shaft, in the same manner I would caress a cis guy's dick in an intimate moment with him, in a wanting, affectionate moment that's perhaps more emotionally intimate than truly sexual, I felt an unfamiliar connection to it. Somewhere in the back of my mind a thought gently said "this is my dick" as I could feel my motions through the silicone gently transfering down to my own anatomy underneath, vaguely mimicking what it could maybe feel like if that silicone was my actual flesh.

I stroke its head more and more as I got increasingly more aroused by the phantom feeling alone, as though as I was jerking off. But a moment later the intense feeling weakened until I eventually let go of the packer, looked down at it, shook my head and stuffed it back into my pants again. Did I feel disappointed? Yeah, probably. And silly too. But at the same time I knew, that it was just an echo of what could be a phantom limb sensation latching onto me in that moment. I've heard many other trans men describe having had similar moments themselves, but I've never been able to connect to packers like that before. It likely happened now because using it as an stp is actually working well over my expectation. It's working, not like a device, but more like a dick. It's just a plastic toy! -I've kept telling myself while shaking my head at it. What would I really know.

Perhaps that's a downside of being a gay trans man. That even the best resemblance of a dick in silicone is never ever gonna truly measure up to all the amazing dicks I've seen, held, felt inside me, traced gently with my fingers over softly bulging veins and silky smooth glanses that I love to tease with my tongue just underneath it as I gently wrap my lips around the head, that I've felt the warmth and growing of in my hands and mouth, and felt the warm expulsion of cum come out of as I've eagerly tasted every drop of it, and that I've just held still in my hand for simply comfort as I fell asleep in its owner's embrace. Silicone feels dead and cold in comparison. Like a sculpture of a loving pet that's passed away. It doesn't help, it hurts. Being in such total awe and worship over that male beauty also kicks me in my own metaphorical nuts over what I'll never have myself. But do I have to? Well no, but sometimes reminders sting.

Do I still have dysphoria over my own genital configuration? Well, whatever remains of it is barely even there anymore. I feel fine with what I have, on most days. And usually on days I don't particularly like it is when I'm in a desperate, stinking need of a shower, and in need of another trim of the ever-growing bush. When it's clean and trimmed, I do feel a certain sense of pride over it, and can hardly keep my hands away from the pleasure I know I can find in there. And I find beauty in its looks, and its female contrast to the rest of me that appears male appeals to me. Choosing which erotic zone to stimulate to orgasm on any particular day is like going into a candy store and having everything thrown at you for free... but then you look to the other side of the street and see the liqour store, but you can't go over there for that booze you long to get drunk on, cause you're locked in the candy store.

Is it greed? Is it a need?
Have I fucked my dysphoria away...
...or was it never dysphoria to begin with?

Now it feels more like I wallow in that candy store, satisfied with it and everything it can offer, and I love it when liquor comes in and wants a taste of my candy, and I'll get a sip of booze enough to rouse me, cause shared pleasure is always gonna be special, one way or another. Sometimes I still glance over at the liquor store and feel a bit of a sting, but then I wonder: is it just because I can't be it, only dream it?

The more I fuck it and enjoy the erotic sensations it gives me, totally for free and without objections, as though it's been begging, yearning for my hands to stroke it like that again and it purrs like a kitten every single time I give it that attention, the more I forget about that penis envy and yearning for what I can't have.

And it comes down to wanting to have the cake and eating it at the same time. For that I slap myself hard and tell myself to get a solid grip on the slipping reality again. Cis men don't exactly get to choose to have both sets of genitals at the same time either. But then they never knew what it's like to have a pussy filled to the brim and far beyond with pleasure and having it filled up with dick as well until you lose all sense of sanity and reality for a moment in the most beautiful chaos taking over your entire body and bringing it somewhere amazing, for just a moment in time but it's worth the whole eternity. If cis men knew that and had that, somehow I don't think they'd trade that away for dick either. We who are slaves to the flesh are all weak to it, aren't we?

Or maybe it's just my own dick-like organ that's dysfunctional somehow. Its apparently 8 thousand nerve endings barely bring me to the roof in an orgasm, while my g-spot alone has the potential to shoot me up into outer space and spin me around Mars. Then just imagine the potential of stimulating all the many spots in and around that area at once.

So now I wonder, did my orgasms and re-uniting with my vagina again after 10 years of hating it, somehow make me re-connect to that part of my body as though it wasn't wrongly gendered anymore, or was it never wrongly gendered to begin with? Or... does it simply not matter anymore that it is wrongly gendered? But even if that's so, it still kinda looks like I'm treating my genital dysphoria with sex. The most likely to be poison that somehow turned out to be medication.

Oh, if anything in this world could make me a total, literal sex addict... that would be it.

If I'll be using sex as a treatment for an incurable medical symptom... I won't be having many days of some kind of celibacy, ever. As if I have for a very long time, when I count in masturbation as sex. It's not that it bothers me, but it does stress me out a little bit. It does put a bit of pressure on me. But at the same time, there hasn't been a single day since the first time I ever masturbated 20 years ago, that my body hasn't been screaming to be touched like that, whether by my own hands or someone else's. Except on the day I was raped. So I'm already addicted to my own endorphins that release in an intense rush for every orgasm, and if I don't get it for a day or two, I'll be acting out like any other kind of addict not getting his fix soon enough again.

So it hardly bothers me or even changes my habits, to rely on it some more. But perhaps it does make an already heavy burden weigh a little bit more heavily. Knowing that I cannot make myself stop, even if my life so depended on it, that then I'd die jerking off, sometimes chokes me. Like a leash holding me too short, it's choking me between real life and instant satisfaction.

Will I fuck the pain away?
Is pleasure my reward or my pay?

Sometimes I wonder where I wander in my thoughts, and where the music carries me. But over all, I feel okay with my parts as they are now, but there is occasional envy. And I'm very pleased with my new packer, the comfort and gender validation it brings me. Just walking into the bathroom and seeing the toilet seat is up, gives me an intensely satisfying feeling of being a man who stands up to piss. I smile whenever I look at my new packer, and feel it was worth every single one of its 230 dollars. But being attracted to the same gender I feel I should have been born as but wasn't, sometimes fucks with me. I sometimes call it my "double attraction" by which I mean the attraction to maleness that I have goes both outwards (to other men) and inwards (to myself). I feel incomplete in comparison to other men, until I have sex with them. Then I feel as though we're one and I don't care about what parts I have as long as they enjoy it too. What matters then is just the feeling. That feeling. Yes, that feeling that I keep building castles of sand and mirrages of dreams out of, yet somehow expecting for them to not fall apart when the act is over and I wait for the next and the next and the next until all that I can think of is getting that void between my legs filled up again and again and again.

Is it the void where my dick should have been and I just keep borrowing other men's dicks to fill it temporarily... or is it just the rush of pleasure that temporarily frees my locked up mind from its own restraints, which makes me keep needing it over and over again?

I used to be a cutter for eleven years. Do you know why cutting your own skin is actually also addictive?
Cause it releases endorphins when you create a wound as your immune system hurries up to attend to the damage. The same hormone that orgasms release.
I think I replaced the razorblades with sex.

Why candy and liquor?
It's the sweet and the strong.

Grim light (poem)

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

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

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

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

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

(written by me)

The risks with thinking with my ass

May 11th.

Oh my god, I just got fucked. How did that happen? The sensation still lingers inside me. I chatted with him first for a few days, and then he came over to my place for sex. I didn't know what he looked like before seeing him in real life, but he's quite handsome. He seemed very kind and quite nervous. I touched him gently and gave him a moment to breathe after we had undressed. We masturbated for a moment before I went down on him. Biggest dick I've been with so far, barely fit in my mouth. Well, length wise it didn't. I tried to deepthroat him a bit but my mouth just wasn't having it for some reason.

Then he licked me for a bit before he fucked me in my pussy. I could feel him against my g-spot and that felt really good. Then he asked me if he could fuck my ass too and I said yes please. He got in there without lube (although I guess he had my natural vag lube still on his dick) and that felt really good too. Seems my ass needs little to no preparation for penetration now, just going right at it works fine and feels great. Like oh my god, that felt so good... He fucked me hard until he came in my ass and I just totally loved it! I just wish I could have come too, but meh, it's alright. Cause that was still a damn good fuck, and I got both holes satisfied. Kind and sweet men that fuck hard is probably my favourite kind of guys. He's somewhere in middle age years, btw. I don't want to be too specific about describing him, just in case.

So... anal virginity traded in, I guess. I kinda knew that would happen randomly and without me being entirely prepared for it. Like that it wouldn't be planned for or that I wouldn't know for sure if it would happen or not. Kind of unexpected. I didn't want to make it something special or whatever, to lose that anal virginity. It barely even counts as "virginity" when I had previously had sex with 16 different guys before him, but just in other ways. It's an experience, it's kinda new, but hardly comparable to having sex for the first time ever. But yes, dick feels way better than dildo in there. Why? I don't know, I just like the feel of skin and someone else's pleasure inside me, regardless of which body orifice. That kind of connection makes it feel better for me, both physically and mentally.

Okay, apparently he did tear me up a little. Now I notice?! It's been like an hour. Just felt like some stuff needed to be cleared of the rear so went to the bathroom to do so and when I wiped it hurt like fucking hell at the opening and there was some blood on the paper tissue. Hardly any large amounts of it though, but like a coin sized amount or so. So, okay going without lube was not the best of ideas. Got it! But maybe I should get an hiv test just to be sure... or should I wait? Don't know if I could still get my hysto done if it says in my medical file that I'm hiv-positive. I don't think there's a hurry to get tested, like that condition takes a long ass time to even show up on tests, let alone do anything damaging in the body. Like I can probably quite easily wait a few months.

May 12th.

I googled when would be best time to get such a test and it said 6 to 8 weeks after possible exposure. So that's around the 22nd June at earliest. It said one can get tested earlier but then have to get re-tested later on in that case, which seems a bit unnecessary. So, I'd rather wait those weeks then. By then I should also have heard from Linköping about that date for SRS that I still intend to cancel. But then I can get on with checking when and where I could have just the hysto done. I googled a bit on the issue of surgery on hiv-positive patients, just in case I'd actually test positive for that shit, before having the hysto.

And it seems it shouldn't be a problem from what I can tell, like they wouldn't deny me surgery if I'd get that kind of diagnosis. I found an American article about transgender people and hiv in general that said that, and a random ask on a Swedish site about another type of surgery (cis man asking about surgery for gynecomastia while hiv-positive) which stated the same. I found no Sweden specific information about hysterectomy specifically though, but I can't imagine it would be different. So... I think I don't need to worry about that, and that I should be able to get myself tested before the hysto without risking not being able to get the hysto at all, that I should still be able to get that surgery even if I'd test positive. I just don't want to have that nagging at me and hanging over me for months on end. Might get tested for other std's while I'm at it as well, but then I'd have to go to a gyno in Visby instead of a general doctor at the district health care centre here in Hemse. So, we'll see about that.

My thoughts are spinning a little and I got a sudden increase in headache thinking I might have gotten that crap and about my own damn stupidity to be so careless, but I'm not very worried or upset about it or anything. Just disappointed in myself and slightly/moderately worried. Most likely he doesn't have hiv but of course I don't exactly sit here and trust a perfect stranger to be clean just because he said so. I may be stupid enough to skip condoms when I'm horny and having sex, but I'm not literally retarded enough to trust the complete strangers I'm having unprotected sex with. I'm always aware of the risk, it's just that I don't seem to care about that risk while I'm at it. That comes in hindsight.

Why I can't seem to care, I haven't quite figured out yet. But I think it might be because I've been suicidal in the past and although I'm not anymore, I still don't quite care about life or where it throws me or what it throws at me. Like I'm indifferent about it, with an annoyingly casual "so what?" attitude to the risks I'm exposing myself to with nothing but a shrug. I don't know if I'd get panicky if I'll test positive for it though, but I'm pretty sure it would at least make my thoughts spin a lot faster and more chaotically. And I'd hate to tell my mother about such news. I'll likely get myself tested without her knowledge, and only tell her if I do test positive. A negative result she doesn't need to know about.

If I'll test positive though, that certainly would not be according to my plans. Not this soon. Like starting sex work would be even trickier, like should I keep it secret but always insist on condoms and say I have some other (less stigmatised but also incurable) std if they'd refuse? Or be a complete shit about it and keep going as usual but just try to make sure I'd be well enough medicated for it to not be transmittable? My morals are iffy, but they're not completely shitty. Like I'd want to try to prevent spreading it around, but I'd also not want to risk being unable to do the only god damn job I want to have. I hope that's at least somewhat understandable, why I'd choose somewhat of a middle road between saint and shithead on that issue. Because it is so very stigmatised, being completely open and honest about it wouldn't be an option. Just no way. Even if I'd break the law by keeping it secret, I'd take that risk too.

But I don't think I should worry myself too much about it just yet though. As I said I don't think it's likely I got it, but it's possible I did and I really just want to make sure that I can know if I got it or not. But ugh yeah, I do feel like a complete fucking idiot to have been that careless. I didn't think I'd actually stoop down to that level of idiocy to have receptive anal sex without a condom with a complete fucking stranger... I thought I had more common sense in my head than that, but apparently not. Well, good to know my own lack of mental capacity, I guess. For future reference, or something.

This is a freaking perfect example of what I mean by that I can't even trust myself. I really didn't think I'd so carelessly put myself in that kind of risk. I thought I could trust myself on that, at least. But no, apparently I can't. I'll keep you posted on how this goes when those 6-8 weeks have been then, probably. So, end of June or beginning of July. But don't expect any super public announcements. And if I do test positive, I most certainly won't flaunt it publicly. Most likely I'd only mention it on this blog, like a bit hidden in an entry about something else or so, and no tags about it. It most certainly would not go on my facebook, tumblr or any other social media I use.

I'd tell those I might have sex with recurrently, like my lover. He if anyone would deserve to know, him most of all people. Close friends I'd likely tell in private, more casual friends and acquaintances I'm not so sure I'd tell at all if it's not their business to know. Depends on if I think I can trust them with such information or not. But that day that sorrow. This entry really just says I might have been infected with hiv cause I've been a complete fucking idiot, but I have no way of actually knowing yet at this point and everything else beyond "might have" is just my thoughts spinning into various "what if" scenarios. At soonest, I'll know in a couple of months. Way to go, huh? Idiot!