5.15.2011

Greek Weddings

As always, the beginning is the hardest part.

My mother's wedding went remarkably better than I had anticipated. I was able to deal with those unpleasant members of my family without much effort, and my date was remarkable at keeping me calm, enthralled, and distracted from the negative.
That isn't to say he was altogether dreamy. There were moments where his teasing began to wear me down. While it was nice to be with him, we both knew it was little more than an enjoyable distraction for both of us. With distance being so large a factor it isn't really feasible for us to be an item. I think we are both somewhat fine with that.

Now, to the tricky bits. The morning of the wedding I was an absolute wreck. For unknown reasons I was unable to keep myself together. While I'm certain part of it was being sick with a sinus infection (yay Texas), most of it was probably attributable to emotional issues. To the point where I began considering cutting again. I knew there were places I was needing to be, and I didn't necessarily have the time to wallow around in depression. My date tried to console me, but it just wasn't happening. I had begun to reconcile myself and went to dress when I began to look for potential objects to use for cutting. I thought this was hopeless as I no longer live there and most of my sharp objects were missing. I did however, manage to find an old box cutter, which in a pinch worked wonders on my thigh.

This was the first time since Christmas that I've been forced into cutting for sanity. While the mere thought of being forced back into it was originally a source of further anxiety, I quickly realized it was the only hope for making it through the day with some sort of normalcy. I did this when my date was out of the room so he wouldn't be aware. However, the abrupt and instant change in my mood was the more disturbing. The sheer power of the act in its effect to cap my emotions and return me back to my normal self is disgusting. I'm not proud necessarily of what I do, much in the sense that drug addicts aren't, but, if it gets me through than it gets me through.

The day went on as planned and I was remarkably pleasant to be around. There were a few regrets however. I wish I would have gotten more slow dances with my date as that is something I greatly enjoy. There is little I can do about that now however.

I think my train wreck nature of the day is largely due in part to the whole celebration in essence feeling like an exacerbation of my loneliness. This explains why my date was no help, as an enjoyable distraction does nothing to air long term loneliness. In effect it simply serves to dramatize the affect of the wedding on my already hyper-sensitive nature to the subject.

I also missed out on an honest goodbye with my date due to a mix up in airports and just where we were both heading. This left the whole event feeling unfulfilled and slightly lacking in closure.


Now, back in the North West, things are still as turbulent as ever. I find myself being flaky and unreliable with my new friends. I'm not sure why this is as I abhor this quality in others. I know recently it has just been a combination of depression and something else that motivates me to just stay at home and...wallow.

There is still a lingering feeling of uncomfort. I'm not entirely sure why just yet, however I find myself feeling somewhat withdrawn and hesitant with others. Perhaps there is just a lingering loneliness (when hasn't there been in my life). It is just a lacking of connection between myself and others I think. The cause of this I've yet to determine. Something keeps me at a distance. Perhaps I'm just being too critical of the people I know, and using that as an excuse to be distant and safe from them. After all if they are too distant to hurt me I can remain safe.

This on top of my ongoing endless frustration at the current job market. I've had a few interviews since I graduated, but the vast majority of applications I send out never get calls back. This is infuriating. In rejection I can at least get some form of feedback or reaction, with no response I don't have any idea of what I can change or alter in order to get further improvements. So I can send out application after application making the same error and never know about it. I often find I'm too qualified for entry level positions, and too inexperienced for everything else. Leaving me completely screwed in regards to all but the most open positions (I.e. Starbucks).

If I can find anything that is at least part time I should be able to cover most of my bills, however that still leaves me short on the rest of the bills and the costs of actually living and enjoying life.

This all seems to combine in an unprecedented sense of hopelessness and frustration. I feel like Sisyphus.

5.03.2011

Where to begin

Since leaving school I've often felt that I've lost a bit of my intelligence, at least in concerns of what I studied. A reasonable assertion I think, but, one of the other things I've noticed is that I seem to be loosing my emotional speech as well. I find it more difficult to pin down or express myself than I used to be able to.

This may be do to my not going to therapy anymore, but that seems to be an over-simplification of the issue.

One thing I do know is that I am still escaping regularly. I don't think I've sat to introspect in a good while and I'm not sure just what has built up in here. I have depression symptoms occasionally, but, they are vastly more inconsistent than they used to be. My appetite, for example, is even more sporadic than normal, and my habit of going days on end without eating has largely subsided. I'm just not sure what is going on these days.


I'm sure some of this has to due with still getting myself settled and established in a new city, obviously, but on the other hand, some of it feels different now. I know a good portion of my issues are stress and career related. I'm still terrified of not finding a position here, and what the consequences of that might be. I've made half jokes and disparaging comments towards escorting, but I would be far from the first or the last trans girl to end up doing things she didn't want to in order to survive.

In talking to a friend of mine the other night the topic came up, and got me thinking about just how my life would be altered by having to do that, and what would happen to my already fragile sense of self and urge for progression. If feeling stagnate drove me to attempt suicide years ago what will regression feel like?

I'm trying to not even consider that as an option. I have a ways to go before that happens, but I don't like not having an escape plan or a way out. Still, a day at a time so to speak. Things are still being resolved. I've gotten the loneliness issue somewhat abated, but it still lingers like a bad smell. The main issue I'm having at the moment is still financial and intimacy related. Not for a lack of opportunities, but it just seems the potential connections in my life are temporary distractions at best. My hopes for someone local are still somewhat dim. Until then, things are largely left ignored and forgotten as they remain to painful to ponder.

In that same conversation with a friend, he suggested I use the time to rediscover/reinvest in my passions. I couldn't think of what my passions are, I have a few hobbies, but..they don't drive my existence, they don't...excite me. Perhaps that is worth investigating, but, I haven't had any real passion in my life for as long as I can remember. I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up (aside from a girl), I never joined any activity clubs, I mainly did the things my friends did. One can't be passionate about being a follower.

Still, at least things are still progressing, chaotically, if nothing else.