i know every year it's kind of crazy that it's another year even though our quantification and perception of time is really weird and subjective despite being treated like an objective thing, but like... wow bonkers huh? lately i think i've been feeling either another episode of some sort or my brain finishing popping up its corn (prefrontal cortex), which has been very funky also! in all technicality, and only in pure technicality, i'm actually the most stable i've ever been in my life. which, yippee, but also it makes sense considering i'm also the oldest & wisest i've ever been, so i don't know how much credit i should give myself for that. i'm very thankful and grateful, but at the same time having this safety allows for a little bit of emotional blowback in other aspects of my life
we can work on self-improvement and leveling up all that we want, but when push comes to shove, satisfaction isn't something that we can just hack our way into. all the supplements, medications, money, sex, nicotine in the world... none of it really will mean a thing if you won't even face yourself. or at least, that's something i've been thinking about lately when i don't have much else going on and the ruminations are catching up to me. :)
I got a new phone a few days ago because my silly little Flippy Z 4 (bad luck number, 4,) got too much dust in the hinge or something. Don't worry--it was still under warranty! (Because it'd only been 4 months when it stopped letting me access the user interface after opening it back up.) I moved over what I thought was all of my settings and stuff but for some reason the keyboard had been reset back to auto-caps and spelling. So now when I text it looks like this. I've been lazy so I haven't turned it back off yet, but I've been thinking about actually just keeping it. This is how we know something is up with me. It's been twelve years since I've started purposefully and carefully typing with excessive and flagrant punctuation, with no caps specifically to denote my lack of regard for traditional social hierarchy. It's been something I've kept up for ages and it's almost refreshing and, for some reason, indulgent, to just type like a regular person.
When I thought about it, I felt a little fucked up. I've spent my entire life hiding my spirit behind smoke and mirrors. I'm stunted because when my sister had big feelings and couldn't handle it, she destroyed everything in her wake without any regard to the consequences and I had to watch. Anger was bad. And when I was upset and I cried, I was bad. Which... "I am bad." So no more me.
Thank god for therapy. I don't think I would have made it this far without it. Anyway, my point is that I'm kind of scared to type like everyone else does because being quirky and silly and cute is pretty much mostly just a defense mechanism because I am afraid that people do not like me if I don't pose myself as small and not needy. I've gotten to the point where through sheer machine learning and being hot + sexy people seem to enjoy my company a lot but then it's like. Damn....... When you think about that hard enough, it's like people can't ever like me for who I am because I straight up just won't let them. 👍
And we haven't even touched the fact that I'm still trans for some reason yet. That's another layer too. Even when I did my best to be a traditional man's man or whatever, I was still getting misgendered all the time. People choked on my name. They choked on my pronouns. And there's only so much changing and reaching and bending you can do with yourself before you break. Last week my workplace's HR team instructed me to make reoccuring meetings with the conference room to be able to use the only gender-neutral bathroom in the vicinity. They're mostly really supportive but I don't think they understand what they asked me to do.
I was also misgendered three times that day even though I have corrected people before and all of my e-mails take extra time to do because I have to add in my pronouns by hand. I love my coworkers but those mistakes combined with a particularly nasty case of PMS because I've had to stop testosterone had made me pretty suicidal again! Even though I hate that I care because I don't even really want to be a man. I think it would be so much easier to be a woman but I just am not. It's like wearing shoes that don't fit. I can do it. I've been doing it this whole time, but I'm getting blisters and my feet are bleeding. I'm so tired.
So I bought some cigarettes again because if the world only wants me to live so that I can be pretty and help people learn to love themselves through reflecting them back to them or whatever then fine. I should be able to take back my life and chase what I want and what I want to do and what I wanted to do was smoke half of a stupid fucking menthol cause I remember how gross it is halfway through and can't bring myself to keep on going until somehow I forget and then crave another the next day. I don't know if I'll buy another pack when these are gone. I'm going to try not to because this is a terrible way to cope. But I see it as harm reduction, so whatever for now.
We also went to go see the Puss In Boots movie with Eva. It was really good!! I don't really feel like actively dying anymore after watching it. I'm excited for her to come back from her trip to Arizona so we can go to the beach again too. We're gonna make sandwiches. :)
Anyway I go back to therapy this week so that'll be amazing also lol.
TL;DR: Puss in Boots -- Good. Bocchi the Rock -- Good. (I've been inspired to get more serious about playing bass lately.) Anpan -- Good.