Insomnia..again

I got caught up tonight looking at cute condominiums that I can't afford to buy.  This largely mirrors most of my life at the moment. While things are going very very well, there is still an overall aching for things. I'm exhausted of being a poor college/graduate student and living meager means. Not that I have some huge desires of grandeur, I actually plan to live quit modestly, but simply having a place of my own, and body parts that match, ...to be married...things that, seem simple yet are huge investments in life. I'm...not quite sure why it is I want these things, I suppose, I'm just ready to get up and move on to that next phase. I'm tired of being limited by things, by finances, by gender identity, by body dysmorphia, by being alone.

I'm..terrified that I'll prove my mother right, that I'll be alone for most of my life. I'm terrified that when I say I love you, and when my partner says it back, that we are talking about two different emotions. There is a huge amount of insecurity and distrust in being in love with other people. I've, so far, resisted largely the urge to second guess and question motivations and reasonings behind how/why/when people say they love me. Never look a gift horse, or in this case, a love given freely, in the mouth. I'm grateful just to have people in my life that love me, but my paranoia and fear of being alone, again, leaves me unsure and insecure.

Perhaps that is why I have these foolish notions of marriage, that it somehow means a true bond between people, or some sort of validation of feelings. In that same token, collaring could be just as useful. It seems somewhat less permanent however. Though, it isn't like marriage is either.

I think I'm just naive still, with hopeless romantic notions of love that simply don't exist anymore. 

When asked why I didn't think I would ever get married, I dodged the question. In reality, I don't think I'll ever find anyone who loves me that much. Loves me enough to put up with all the baggage and "yeah but"s and other abnormalities that comes with marrying me.

That is the root of why I'm a submissive most of the time. Having someone else take charge, and touch me, hurt me, or simply give me attention is validation in my desirability. In my sick mind I've equated desirability with femininity, and thus to be one is to be the other. Which, I think, is all I ever wanted. From partners, or my parents when I was growing up, all I've ever wanted was to simply be wanted, at least, then it is proof I exist in some form or another.

But then, I guess we are all still just recovering from the mistakes of our mothers and fathers.

Diagnosis

My nightmares continue, with varying degree of intensity. I'm not quite sure just what to make of them. Everyone seems to have differing opinions of what they mean, and I have my own. I've asked my brother, randomly, after the night before last's had me wake up crying. Having these is very unusual for me, and I can't say I care for them. Still, writing them down, and trying to get to the bottom of them has been ...interesting. I digress however, as the dreams merely set my tone.

Things ....just are. I'm not sure in what direction every day goes. I've since moved in with some friends of mine, and for the time being we are coexisting just fine. That may change when they find someone to eventually take over this room (and pay their share of the rent) and I'm forced to then share a marginally larger room. For now though, I'm trying quite hard not to dwell on things, and keep the brooding at bay as best I can.

I find myself in new situations that I'm not sure I'm comfortable with in terms of emotional security. I think what I'm afraid of is being yet again unrequited, or uncherished. Something that I see happening pretty commonly with the people I've known in the kink community before. I'm looking for that in depth emotional relationship, and while I can provide that in spades, I'm afraid if I do so, I'll not get it back in return. This complicates things with my asexuality. Where as some people find it easy to have multiple partners, and play with multiple people, I simply am not attracted to most other people, and thus have no real urge or motivation to be involved with them.

This all would be largely not an issue, if I weren't so attached to someone. I don't like falling, not like this. I feel helpless in it, and it scares me. Which, is fairly twisted to have a submissive romantic being scared of someone their attracted to their attraction to someone. I find myself inventing ways to distance myself from hir in case something happens. In some ways it's fascinating being so attracted to someone for the first time, but it also terrifies me.

I'm not going out of my way to find meaning where there isn't any, or artificially inflate a new relationship simply because it exists. I don't think my attraction is symbolic, or that fate or any other large laissez-faire motion is behind it. However I do find it significant in the history of my life. I find myself falling into habits I've never done before, things I noticed my partners doing in previous relationships, but never did myself. (I'm hugely guilty of staring uncontrollably like a school girl).

So, while I have tried hard not to be bothered by things, I do find myself worrying about my own emotional security. I'm beginning to suspect that my feelings are a bit more advanced as well, but that could be simple communication issues. I often find myself trying to find meaning in simple gestures. Waiting for hir to initiate contact, simple things, that I know I blow out of proportion and don't really mean much more beyond what I assign them in meanings. The problem lies in that I'm wanting them to mean things, in which they really don't. If I desired communication I can simply ask for it and get it, but trying to decipher hir meanings and feelings through the internal debate over who initiates the first contact of any given day is teenage, immature, and childish. I know this, but still find myself doing it. Another habit new to me, worrying.

I know I can't manifest feelings where there are none, or exacerbate them into any more genuine or intense to match mine. Mine are mine, and hir's are hir's, regardless. However I do think I'm downplaying how intense my feelings are to myself, to hir.

This intensity seems both amazing and premature. I find it highly suspect for occurring in such a short period of time. Normally my attractions occur much later (if ever) and my courtships are much longer (and drawn out), but at the same time, I've not felt such an intensity for a long time, if ever, and that has me bewildered, befuddled, and really fucking confused. My fears revolving around such are that said feelings won't be returned in kind, the hurt that lies therein, and also that these feelings, once gone, will never return if said happens.

Though, being in the poly community, I begin to wonder if this revolves around my fundamental failure to understand how polyamoury truely works. I find myself asking if love is a limited thing. Is it a finite resource that can be spread thinly among a few people, or intensely to just on person. Or, contrary, is it an infinite resource for people who can have intense emotional relationships with more than one person. From one who rarely has them to begin with, the idea of having multiple is flabbergasting and insane to me. My inexperience in such can easily be the source of this insecurity and the associated behaviors. Being one who finds most people unattractive, and most relationships to be close emotional bonds with no actual attraction or emotional intensity, the finding and discovery of such, can, and does, often feel overwhelming.

There in, lies the issues and catharsis. While no one is an island, in and un to themselves. These days, I find the ocean that separates one person from another is greater than all the miles between the stars in the sky. With the only petty tools we have to share emotional ideas being our own imperfect communication, I find it miraculous that anyone ever finds love at all without falling apart into the shambles of insecurity and uncertainty. But then, Maybe I'm just that poor trans girl who still believes no one will ever truely love her.

Dreaming Again

It has been over two months since I've written, and I feel that is largely, acceptable. It isn't that things are just so amazing that I don't have time to write, in contrast, it is quite far from it. I just find that escapism is a more effective means of dealing with most things at the moment. A very...precarious step back for me. I've noticed some old habits coming back up, paranoia, self-deprecation, body image issues, and perhaps the most egregious of offenders, internal dialogue. Not in that understanding oneself is bad, but bouncing ideas back and forth with myself and letting them snowball into issues when they are not, is something I had long given up. Yet now, I find them returning.

I haven't been to a therapist in almost nine months, and while I was alright with this for a good while, it may be time to start back up again. The lack of a source of rebuttal and honest discourse about my life has caused me to inflect almost everything.

To said effect, I've had nightmares, regularly. They vary in degree of intensity and subject matter. Most recently it was stinging insects and tarantulas that I couldn't get off/out of my skin. I would hit them and smash their exoskeletons, but their stingers would remain intact and in my skin, infecting me. Other dreams have involved self mutilation and botched surgeries. These have all started since graduation last December. It is irregular for me to remember most dreams, and even more so for me to have consistent nightmares. The..intensity..and..grotesque nature of some of them doesn't make me long for sleep. It does however explain the cold sweats I wake up in.

My living situation is soon to be in chaos, and I'm not sure how this is going to affect me. I am just going to approach it with the best of my ability and hope I can make it work. I have suffered through worse, and I can't imagine my trust will be betrayed. I simply dislike not having a personal space, it feels very limiting emotionally, and having to keep up my masks/acting all the time becomes very tiresome and draining after multiple days on end.  To said extent, I'll probably start writing more often without the clear emotional vents that I have in place already.

I do have some things brewing, new social circles and such, that may be promising. I'm hesitant to put too much emphasis and them however as they are still newborn and I don't want to get over attached in case things don't work out. My paranoia about perceptions is also keeping me at a distance. That said, the euphoria they have given me the past few days is very, very welcome. The inverse, has me avoiding some of the people I met here previously, and tolerated. I understand this is somewhat of a "shitty" thing to do, but, we all do what we must for our intellectual and emotional sanity. The family I had in Texas was one that I loved dearly, and leaving them to move in with my mother was a shock, leaving them to come here, and find myself dealing with topics and issues I have long since abandoned was excruciating.

Things are not perfect, nor do I expect them to be. However, there is hope, for the first time, in a long time. But, perhaps, maybe I'm just sleeping again, and this is but another cruel emotional self-mutilation dream.

Return of the Rains

Being officially fall here, thankfully, my mood has somewhat abated. It is still a sporadic thing however whenever the moods do strike. Often they hit over the smallest of triggers, the latest being a computer illustration of a new GLBT center going up in some latin american country. That in itself was fine with me, but the corner was illustrated a cute lesbian couple, and that did it. So far my self imposed guidlines have worked out and I've managed any further bloodshed at the cost of starting up therapy again. I've wanted to, but I also want to try and go without therapy at the moment. I'm sure it could do me some good, it always does, but I need to learn to deal with these things on my own. It is also a financial burden that I don't need at the moment. While my family has offered to pay for it, it isn't a burden they can easily accept either.


Which brings me to both my family and financial situations. Fincially, I'm just about tapped for resources, and had it not been for a friend of mine offereing me a room with him when he moves into the city, I would be in much more dire straights. As it stands living rent free will hopefully be good enough for me until I can find a position on my own. When and If that ever happens is anyones guess. Needless to say my situatoin is going to become much more tense than I am used to, as I haven't lived with anyone for a few years now. Still, it is better than returning to Texas. The thought has been brought up to me by my parents, though I refuse to end up in a worse place, with just as aweful of job prospects and even worse living situations. 


My connection to my family is even now eroding even thinner. They find it nigh impossible to be honest with me. My mother in particular refuses this even when I and my brother call her on her being two faced. Why they find it so hard to simply be honest with me is unknown to me. I suppose they believe being so far away I'll simply choose to not deal with them if they upset me. What they don't realize though is that being honest with me is the best way to deal with me and best way to avoid me being pissed off. I always eventually find out what they think/believe anyway, so they do themselves no favors by not telling me things themselves. 


Still, there is simply so much distance between them and myself that I refuse to tolerate their bullshit. This is a complete contrast to my good friends that I left back in Texas. The idea of celebrating with them instead is one that I welcome greatly, but I'm sure they all have families they wish to be with for the holidays. Either way, it will be the first christmas that I've been away from my brother, and I think that bothers me more so than not getting any material things or not being with my parents. Unfortunatly, I see our relationship growing to that of my father and his brother, they only talk on rare occasions, and are vastly different people who aren't very close. I hate that idea, but try as I might I can't bring him to care about me, or have an interest in my life. In total it simply feels like he doesn't value our relationship at all. While, that is tolerable for a time, there comes a point where it simply isn't worth fighting for anymore. I have enough problems finding motivatoin to fight for things as it is, let alone things that actively discourage me.


Still, leaves are changing, the city is beautiful in the rain, I have as much social energy to leach off of at local coffee shops as I can desire, and warm drinks help keep the bitter loneliness out of my insides for a time.

Folley

There is a distinct loneliness about cities. Perhaps it is just the return of the overcast that has me somewhat withdrawn, but I find myself lacking in motivation again. This isn't new, it never is. I won't call myself naive, but, perhaps overly optimistic in my expectations of when I moved here. I didn't think it would solve all my problems, I knew moving here would simply relocate my problems here. By and large they are still with me, the depression, isolation, loneliness, and escapism are all just as bad now as they were when I lived 2300 miles from here. However there are a number of benefits to being that I do enjoy, I digress however. My original point being that being around so many people exacerbates the feeling of lonliness. Sure living out in the middle of nowhere is lonely, being surrounded by people, while giving off a social energy, is often just as lonely if you don't know any of them. It can often be worse.

I know none of this is strictly an external issue. Much of it is my own paralysis in dealing with social situatoins. Often complicated by the stress and depression brought on by the economy and failing to find employment. I find that I wish I had my old friends from Texas here, not for any real particular reason though. I have friends here, and they are great people, but...there is simply something missing. At the moment, i'm inclined to push that off on being mostly partly single and looking for a romantic interest. That probably isn't entirely the case.

I've abandoned my guitar as well. It has been lost in my lack of motivation like so many other things I at one point enjoyed. It is almost amazing what the frustration and depression of not finding employement can do to someone. I often find myself wondering what the point is. Which, has always been a very good indicator of my mental state. I usually only begin to question it when things start to turn bad as it is a question I can never answer.

I am slightly comforted by the notion that I'm not alone in it. A lot of the people I talk to are struggling to find work, I've also heard annecdotal tales of grown children still living at home because there simply isn't anything out there. I'm sure there are people working, but by and large it seems the young are perpetually screwed over in this. A situation I don't see being fixed for a good while.

I have some safety measures in place, friends of mine willing to put me of until I can find a place, a favor I probably will never be able to repay despite how much I cook/clean for them. I can't honorably ask my parents for anymore support than they have already given, and the feeling of worthlessness and hopelessness is beginning to pervade just about every aspect of my daily life. I often see positions available that I pass up because I wonder what the point of applying is. I know the old addage, "You don't get every job you don't apply to", but I have trouble convincing myself that I won't be hired regardless, so there is no point.

I know this worries people, but, there is little else I can do but try to keep fighting. Without any rhyme or reason as to why except the foolish notion that at some point it will pay off/work out.

I know myself pretty well. I know that most of this depression and dark thinking is brought on by not being able to cope with this issue. The problem is I don't see the solution anymore. I see my life, and myself, and just don't see any way that things miraculously pay off until a random job just falls into my lap.

My goals/expectations during college seem childish these days. The goals I had set are almost laughable now. Believing things would eventually work out well, oh the folely of youth.

Am I not Justified?

Rather than edit the previous post, which seemed about half complete, I thought I would simply restart here, anew.

I'm still not quite sure what I'm doing. I've been seeing someone, but I'm not quite sure why. There is no..passion, I want to say, there. Ze is cute enough, but, nothing really gets me going. There is nothing that motivates me to be sexually active in our relationship. I know some of that stems from my own body dismorphia, and some stems from hir's own issues on my body. I don't particularly enjoy having to teach people about me and my body, or explain how I don't function in the same ways as other girls. The whole..conversation frankly turns me off. The few times we have been sexually active, I felt more ackward and uncomfortable than ever before.

Some is probably from hir's inexperience with trans women, granted, but some was my mental state. I appreciate the effort, but I know it isn't in hir comfort zone, and thus, that fed my discomfort. Which, leaves me now, looking at other people in longing and loneliness, and wondering just what I'm doing. I enjoy having someone to hug and lay next to, sure, but, it still feels hollow, and despite that, I still feel alone.

Which makes me question why am I even bothering, is it, just that being involved with anyone, is better than being involved with noone. I do enjoy the company, and perhaps, for now, that alone is simply enough. I'm in no rush to push anything into serious territory, especially given my history, and future grim prospects.

Like everything else, it feels in limbo, cut off from the world, slightly askew, and more than mildly uncomfortable and unnatural.

A day or so ago, I saw a very cute lesbian couple (I assume) in the window of a Thai restraunt I was at. I envied everything about their life, their look, their happiness, their presumed ability to take care of themselves. While, I gather these are the things I'm looking for, it seemed they collectivly gathered in my reflection of their persona.

Jealousy is a very strange emotion, not one I'm used to, but, I find myself more and more envious of the people I see around me, and what, their lives must be like. I'm resisting the urge to go on a giant tyraid on the fairness of life, but, I've known it isn't fair, and bitching about it, isn't going to change the past or my life. No, that, negativity is best vented out through tears and sobs alone late at night, rather than on oft writ, seldom read blogs by poor trans women.

Things can't be the same

It's been a while since I've written. I think some of that is my own laziness, or lack of inspiration. I've been deluding myself into thinking that I'm not depressed, or that the greatness of seattle was enough in itself to overcome the rest of the shitty things in life. In some ways, it exacerbates them, if I let them. The stress and feelings of worthlessness are way greater than I ever thought possible. Hunting for jobs alone is enough to make me contemplate suicide, let alone doing with all the other shit going on.


I found some ways to cope, but, on days like yesterday, where I spend hours on end crying and feeling like life has no point, they seem few and far between. I did start seeing someone, but, like always, my excitement on the issue is limited. I'm not sure if it simply makes matters worse or not. Having a warm body to lay next to is nice, but it brings with it all manner of complications.

I wasn't naive enough to think simply by moving all my problems would be solved. I was apparently naive enough though to think I could find a job anywhere. I'm slowly coming to accept the possibility of having to move back to Texas, though, I do think it will be the end of me if I do. I found some people willing to help me out, and offering me a place to stay after my lease is up, but, I'm not sure. I'm beginning to think if I can't find a job in 9 months of looking I should just give up.

I don't relish in that idea. The simple thought of talking to my family again makes me cringe. They seem to think that I enjoy feeling worthless, and having nothing to do all day. They have no idea what is like to feel aimless, without a purpose or direction. While they romanticize the idea of not working again, it is only because they have the money and savings to be able to do so. Having to rely on other people for money, and having nothing to do all day is tormenting. They wouldn't know that however, as they don't know how to communicate with each other, let alone me.