Coming out day

It is National Coming out day, and I am struck by a complication of things. I've come to believe that coming out day is a day to release things that you've been holding inside. It seemed appropriate that I discuss what has been bothering me lately, and that came out as "a girl with suicidal tendencies".  Honestly, I see these young kids who kill themselves, and a part of me thinks they have the right idea. As someone with no fear of death, and no particular enjoyment of life, taking one's life has never been a moral question for me, but one of practicality. It always seemed an easy solution to a problem that many people struggle to see. Everyone dies regardless, and I don't see the harm in taking a short cut there when there is no particular enjoyment in life.

I'm feeling normal again, but this past Saturday I felt a depression that was abnormally bad. Something I hadn't felt in a particularly long time. This overwhelming patheticness and hopelessness, loneliness and fatalism that was all but overwhelming. I thought hard about cutting but refrained, and I'm thankful that I've learned to cry a lot more easily. The cause can be traced back to a lack of resources, and being stuck inside my apartment, again. I don't particularly enjoy staying inside, but it is something I've had to deal with more frequently this semester as my few friends now have scheduling problems. I'll spare you other details, but suffice to say that things built upon one another.

I was out of it the next day, but it has given me some serious doubts on what I want to do after graduation, and how I'm going to go about doing it. I'm much more fragile than I remembered.

Ants

School? Well I've got my priorities taken care of, but I did notice some people talking...pointing. I wish they would simply approach and ask, rather than gossip and wonder. I'm sure in enough time they will accept it, or at least get over the curiosity of it. I suppose I'm simply annoyed at being pointed at. It wasn't an oh my god what is that point, but instead an oh that girl over there? point. So, the lesser of two evils, but it is still rude.

I've had some body image issues pop back up. I'm not sure what it is, or why it triggers. I suppose it is just normal trans imperfections popping up into my focus. It isn't exactly enjoyable.

I had an interesting discussion with another trans friend of mine however. We were going over how we were before hand. He said I was standoffish, and brooding. Which, is true. What interested me though, was when describing our teenage struggles, I listed myself as a "denyer". I convinced myself that there was nothing I could do about my feelings, and since I couldn't be perfect, then I wouldn't even bother. This notion of absolutes is something I still deal with. It is the namesake of this blog (along with a slight alcoholic play on words). The notion that if something can't be an absolute, then it is better to not try. One of the major hurdles in my coming out was getting over this notion. I still remember thinking that if I didn't do something about this issue, it was going to kill me (an absolute), and that any action, was better than the situation I was in (another absolute).

Looking at it that way, makes me wonder if I ever got over the notion at all, or simply twisted it to fit my needs.

Don't hear a word I say

I cried at my therapists for the first time last week. I don't normally cry, but I think it was a combination of things brewing. For one, I was read on Sunday, and went to my electrolysis that following Monday. Going to that always feels degrading, and insulting to me. It makes me feel incomplete, flawed, fatalistic, and hopeless. When my therapists got on the subject of owning my trans identity, she pushed a bit on the not being a women front, and I caved. Normally I can acknowledge at least that I will never be a genetic female. But in combination with everything else, I think it just struck the a nerve and released a bunch of pent of negativity.

I do, after all, have about 10 years worth of repressed negative emotions lurking in the wings.

I am getting better at living out though, since being read I've gotten more comfortable being less stealthy and (laziness helps) just going out as is. I do get more strange looks, but they don't really bother me all that much anymore.

What does bother me though, is still the aspect of being trans. I HATE having to go through this. I feel cursed, and living out the undeserved punishment for some crime committed in a past life.

I find myself crying in bathrooms more often. Silently sobbing where no one can see. Not oceans or anything, just quick bouts of it to simply get some ability to breath. What is scary, however, is that I find my thoughts turning violent in an urge to give me something to set myself off. Thinking about cutting just to start the release and get all of this cancer out of me.

One thing that is depressing though, despite the progress I've made, while the self destructive tendencies have abated, the thoughts remain omnipresent.

Still Looking

Thank god the semester is basically over. Aside from an exam and presentation I'm free and clear. Aside from the stress, I'm just tired of being in the closet in my classes. While I did receive some distressing reports from fellow trans people who have been outed, I only have one semester left and I just don't care. I said long ago I wasn't going to let this control my life, and its about time I started living up to that oath.

I still haven't found a place to live, so that is still something I need to figure out over the summer. I'm so ready to finish school, I've been going for about 20 years now, and the urge to be independent and supporting myself is pretty strong.

I'm still looking for my voice though, my guitar is still somewhat muffled, and I'm struggling to come up with a unique sound to it. Its frustrating to hear what I play, and just hear the generic sound and tone of it. I still have my dreams, but it now seems more distant than ever.

Romantically the situation is similar, I've been struggling with feeling desired. While I enjoy being involved with someone, I'm looking to feel desired, which, while I've felt it before, seems also distant and...unobtainable. I know it is foolish to seek physical validation in the desire of others, right now, reinforcement of my attractiveness is what I'm needing most of all.

Conclusions

So this past Saturday I managed to tell my grandparents about what was going on. While I expected a whole showdown, it was actually rather anticlimactic. They said they had suspected for awhile, and besides a few "why can't we be normal" comments, it was rather civilized.

Aside from that, I'm entertaining a new interest. What I find remarkable however, is the striking difference between this, and my past relationship. The little things that annoyed me, or bothered me about my ex, don't seem to with this new interest. I'm not quite sure why, though I think some of it has to do with the physicality of it all. I'm sure some of it is being more comfortable in myself, I think a good portion of it is hir.

We aren't exclusive or anything, and neither of us really know what we are wanting, but for now, I'm just enjoying the closeness, and the warmth of having someone to lay next to. I'm not sure where it may lead to, and I don't think I am wanting another relationship so soon after this latest fiasco. Looking back at that, I want to say it was probably the worst relationship I can remember. In just overall negativity, but it was a good break away point from the past I think. While I'm not sure anything can be salvaged from that, it's at least memorable. I know now that physicality of a relationships can't be forced.

It is strange being intimate again, and...I'm not sure how to react to it. I'm still figuring things out, so I may update on that later on this week. As it is however, I am feeling pretty good, I no longer have to conceal things within my family anymore, and I can be free for most of my days.