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.

Machinations

The routine of things is starting to get to me. I find in my escapism I loose track of entire days at a time. I don't find this to be positive. I don't think I've actually sat and thought about life in a couple of months. It is just too painful to do at the moment. I've moved on from strangers who can't handle transwomen. It isn't that I think it won't hurt me next time, but more that the pain from that experience has been buried and healed over. As things are want to do.

My family life is deteriorating. My ability to care about the elder members is severely diminished, even the lamentations of my mother seems to fall on deaf ears these days. I just can't seem to find any capacity to really care about such terrible people. My mother in particular seems to prove to me that she has no concept of integrity at every turn.  My cousins, and my brother, and the only relatives I really muster up feelings for. I believe this is mainly because they have much better character traits even among their vices.  They have their issues, but they aren't ones to judge. I still don't feel any real connection to them, but I don't actively wish to disassociate with them like I do the rest of the family.

I've been flirting with people lately, mainly those who I know will reciprocate, even in vain. I'm not quite sure what is driving me to seek their reassurance. Perhaps it is just nice to enjoy the company of others now and then. My other relationships, one in particular, are tentatively disruptive and disturbing. It isn't that I wish harm to this person, I just have no desire to actively be around or involved with hir at this point in my life. I think it is still too painful.

In the meantime, I'm aching to leave Texas. It seems I can't leave soon enough. The job search however seems to keep pushing me back to square one, no matter how fruitful a particular lead or position seems to be. I know this is something I must get used to, job searching it seems is a definition in futility and frustration. It is difficult to not let the excitement of possibility and the frustration of disappointment get to me. In addition, I have trouble expressing the negative emotions because I don't want to let it get to me since it is likely going to happen multiple times.

My depression is still in a strange...unusual hidden state. I am attributing this to my living conditions, I don't feel normal while I'm in this house. I feel like I've regressed into my actress stage where I pretend nothing bothers me and everything is fine. This repression tends to erupt violently and I'm dreading what happens when it does. That said, this house is not good for me, and I may find ways to leave it for good regardless of employment or specific deadlines. I know my mother thinks I'm joking when I talk about working the street, I don't think she grasps my distaste for this environment. It sickens me to be here, and to see what it is doing to me.

Routines, Habits, & Wounds.

I'm not sure how things are going. My mood is still abnormal, though enjoyable. I find myself loosing some of my cynicism towards my family, but I know my feelings towards them haven't changed. Though it is really only a change towards my mother, to whom things have always been touch and go at best. While things may tolerably pleasant now, I know it never stays that way. I think things will end up better for me, and everyone else once I can get up north.

My ex has also relocated back to Texas. This isn't news as I knew she was going to be returning in January, however I'm not quite sure I feel about it yet. My first instincts are to withdraw and be defensive. I think there is a part of me that is still hurt over what happened. Granted we talked things through and apologies and all that, but something still feels off about everything. Perhaps there is still some closure I'm seeking however I'm not sure what that might be as of yet. It isn't pressing anyway, just something festering in me somewhere...Maybe once it completely rots over I can find out where I need to...amputate.

Morbid, but it works.

New (Years) Resolutions

It has been a while since I've written, and I left last time on a rather dramatic, worrisome note. In the time since then, I've pulled myself back together. I'm not sure completely, but it seems like the burden I carry for being trans is just a bit too much to bear at times.

Since then, I've had to celebrate the holiday with my biological relatives. I knew this was going to be a struggle when I left to visit them. The first night wasn't bad, but I got wind of plans for a "family get together" the next night. This was different as it was to include my father's surrogate daughter, her husband and newborn son.

I left the apartment early and didn't show up until after things were already going. I tried in vain to find anyone to give me an excuse to not return, I also tried shopping, movies, and driving around my old neighborhoods. I eventually returned, and only then, was it after wasting time at a local pub drinking beer, and debating whether or not to cut myself in the bathroom stalls. When I finally left, I walked outside and a chilling rain was dumping large drops onto my head and face. I looked up and just started laughing and letting it hit me for a bit. I wasn't upset at the rain, I was ecstatic for it as it reminded me of all things Seattle. Cold, wet, rain. It was cloudy, humid, and 80* when I went into the bar. I drove back in an ecstacy of tire spin and hooliganism on empty wet roads.

When I got inside, I said my hellos and gave meaningless hugs. I don't remember many of the nondramatic details. At one point, my father interrupted a conversation between my brother and I, so we could be sure and watch him take pictures of his surrogate grandchild. The impact of this, on my brother and I, is apparently lost on my father. After emotionally abandoning us to her, he still invites her over as if he had done nothing wrong. I appeased the bile and rage I felt and continued my escapism with my brother and his girlfriend. At some point, sentences by cisgender women began "As a woman". At this point, I felt I had to run to the bathroom for fear of hearing how that conversation would turn out. I bargained with myself in said bathroom to only do two more cuts. Exiting, sane again, I rejoined and continued a very shallow consciousness until the night eventually ended.

Christmas day came and went largely unnoticed. Gifts were appreciated, but nothing I could not easily live without. Especially considering they mean so little coming from people I've no real emotional connection to anymore. The entire time I kept hearing the theme of "it isn't about you" echoed by various people. I was forced into taking pictures I didn't want to be a part of, and instead of understanding that I didn't want photo's taken, I was patronized and told I'd eventually want them. I sincerely doubt this. Lack of connection aside, why would I want photos of me at my worst? The whole event shows a huge lack of understanding on their part, and a dismissal of my feelings.

At the end of the day, my brother repeated, again, the "not about you" mantra. What bothers me about this, is the sheer hypocrisy of the statement from him. I have lived these past 7 years completely for my parents. I answered every call, I cut spending when I told to, I came down when they asked, I did favors, I helped out where I could. I took out loans to help pay for my tuition and living expenses. I do everything I can to placate, and make their lives easier. Now, having graduated, and finally free from whoring myself out for their support, I can relax, be myself, and not do anything, I don't want to do. Meanwhile, my brother has done the complete antithesis of this, to the point that my parents either A, don't bother calling him as he never answers, or B, rant to me about how they can't get in contact with him. The nerve, gall, and hypocrisy of him telling me to do anything for the sake of them asking me to, is absurd and complete bullshit.

I've since vowed I will never return to celebrate any holiday out of obligation or guilt. Especially not with them. I want to celebrate with an actual family, one that when I leave I feel sadness, not relief. People I have an actual emotional connection and investment in, not a glorified financial planner and debt collector. The same applies to both sides of my family, I'd almost rather not take their gifts and cut off contact from them, than to have to remain attached to them because of material possessions.

That said, I am back home now, and feeling much more like myself now. Healing up, again, as per the usual.

Frailty

I've been crying a lot more it seems. Well, at least more regularly. I've been reminiscing  about my childhood, watching old cartoons from when I was a kid, and just remembering a lot of things with a new perspective. Just before I tried to go to bed I kept thinking about all the things I'm denied by birth. I'll never know what it is like to grow up female. I'll never experience a girls locker room, I'll never get to gossip with other girls over trivial bullshit. I know it is petty, and that most girls won't say any of these things are really hallmarks of their life, but they shouldn't have been hallmarks in mine as well.

This speaks to the larger, longing to which I've come to succumb to. That of the normal, cisgender female. While, I'm pretty sure just about every trans girl ever to have been has longed for this, I find it is the smaller details and memories that I miss out on that bother me more than the physical aspects of my body these days. Not that my body is particularly appealing to me still, but at least that is progressing. There is no way I can gain those memories and experiences.

I find it strange that during these lows I still get suicidal notions. Being out of my depression it is obviously less of an actuality, but the fantasy is still there. Maybe I should stop watching the wonder years, though I find I get similar themes in other shows from my childhood, things I don't remember feeling when I watched them at the time, but that I know where there...hidden, deep inside. I'm glad I can remember those emotions, but I can't bear them full on. The intensity of them scared me when I first pushed into those emotional memories and I'm hesitant to test how strong those currents run, lest they take me with them.

I'm not sure this is something I can face. There are few things I'm scared to deal with in my life, confronting my father on his emotional neglect, facing the explicit limitations of being trans,  and apparently the depth of how much I've hidden away from myself over the past 12 years of hiding. I knew I was good at faking normality, escapism, but I didn't think I'd actually been so good as to hide it from myself. Sometimes I find it amazing that I'm alive at all.

Obligations

Oh the holidays, what a useless period of time. I'm actually a big fan of what the holidays stand for, but it is another one of those things that I seemingly do without. The holidays are in general a huge source of conflict for me. While I'm grateful that my family relatives accept me for who I am, there is a growing disconnect between them and my life. The more time that passes, the less I feel any connection with them in my life. Aside from their support, and blood relation, I really don't see a binding tie between us. I just get this lingering feeling that they don't understand, and that something is missing. Looking back it seems that the notion of family left around sometime in my teenage years.

Specifically on Thanksgiving, it has become more and more about the food for me, and since it is usually pretty crappy food, I see no real desire to go outside of obligations. This is a notion that I think carries through to the rest of my relatives. People arrive, eat/finish the preparations, wait around for ten minutes, then leave. No one really wants to be there, they simply have to be out of obligations. Which makes me wonder what the point really is aside from keeping up some asinine gesture towards being a normal family, when, we aren't really at all. Everyone keeps secretes from each other, no one says what they mean, or secretly want. All of my relatives keep each other at such a huge distance that, I just can't help but feel isolated from them.

Which brings me to connections, love, really. I think about those that I truely care for, the people who alter my existence by simply being in my life. When I apply this to my relatives, there really is nothing beneficial there outside of financial support. Yes, I know they love me, but lately, I find that this is more because we are relatives, and not simply because we love each other. If they were just another couple, taking in a poor transgirl, I don't think my perspective or feelings would change much. This differs greatly from the people I consider my family, who inspire me to greatness, and make me want to be a better person.

So, the holidays feel more like a hassle, given the process I have to dance around to satisfy both sides of my relatives. It simply has no meaning left for me anymore, between the materialization, bad food, false pretenses and fake emotions, I really see no harmony in the season.

This lies on top of my own issues with family, and the feelings of loneliness that accompanies everything. There isn't anyone among my family that understands my issues, what it is like to be unable to bear children, for example, or dealing with hate groups and systemic discrimination. This all just leads to a feeling of alienation.

Lastly, I get feelings of guilt built up from everyone. From my friends who are envious that I get to spend time with my relatives, or indirectly from other transpeople who don't have families that accept them, or are no longer around. I get pushed from everyone to participate in these holidays because apparently one day they will no longer be around. Yet, for me, they haven't been around, nor will they be around, for me. They are just strangers who share DNA. In exchange for financial support (for the time being) I give them a the time of day, and my presence, for a little while if nothing more.

I feel no greater connection than that, which, as we know, is quite lonely. I think it is more, simply, time to move on with my life. I know, better than most, what a true family is, and what it is not.

The Death Card

"The Death card, in tarot, marks ends and beginnings. Although most illustrations
of the Death card tend to be morbid, the forces behind the Death card
are actually quite exciting. Yes Death does mark the end of something.
But ends are often brought about by completion and not loss. Most
endings are actually good, and make room for us to begin new adventures."



This card seems apt for this entry as it sums up many of my feelings on issues.

For one, I'm using it as a conclusion for my feelings towards my ex. The behavior displayed this last week has been that of someone who really doesn't care about me or my feelings. It is instead, the behavior of a rabid hedonists, and I am not going to let the misguided pursuits of someone else bother me any longer. Despite my feelings, as a cancer, I am not one to give myself over to those who harbor ill will towards me, intentional or not. I would like to proclaim a friendship here, but I'm not even sure what would be the point of it. I don't have any ill intention, it is just, I do not care, anymore.

I've been struggling with anger towards my past recently. The animosity towards my parents is still very much alive, but I find no resolution or fulfillment in dwelling on past circumstances. While I would love to lecture on about how much pain they have caused me, I don't know what purpose or good would come from it, other than making them feel horrible, and I do not wish that.

This is also the start of the end of this chapter in my life. So much lies ahead for me come 2011. I will have finished my education, and aside from a little debt, have no financial obligations or ties to where I am. I can move anywhere in the country (or out of it) and start a new existence. This is really the beginning of my adult life, and I am quite anxious to see where it goes. So the death card is quite appropriate, I'm ending an interest, and coming to the end of a huge chapter in my life. I'm not sure where I will end up, but, while there is some anxiety, It doesn't seem insurmountable

Ignition

So in short, things are heavy in negative emotion, and while this has as such, taken me out of my funk of blah, it isn't quite the direction I had aimed to take things in.

Now, having calmed down, and after a fitting crying fiasco, things are a bit clearer.

Sadness, basically, I miss being close to people. Being single is not in my nature, and recent activities have reminded me of that. Outings into the social world that are often unproductive reinforce this. A recent experience left me feeling vulnerable and overexposed. I lied, and went against my true feelings to correct those issues (and save face). I am very much a girl of loose morals in that I offer myself up emotionally to just about anyone, and when they decline (naturally for not being interested), I feel rejected and ugly, unwanted, and without value.

The anger, is more complex. I haven't forgiven myself for not telling my parents sooner. I regret being a coward and not having the courage to tell them something was wrong. I resent myself for trying to fit in, for conforming to what I thought my family wanted, and not being who I really was, and new myself to be. I have resentment and animosity towards my parents for seeing clues and not asking/saying anything about it. In that same vein, I resent them for not making my home feel safe and secure. A home is supposed to be a place of security and love, and for the majority of my time there I felt isolated, alone, caged, unloved, and rejected. The overbearing notion I remember from my home life was that of feeling judged. My parents were figures of authority, and not loved ones I could confide in.

I'm not sure where to go from here, getting it out of me is a start, but, anytime I try to vent this, there is a seemingly endless supply of rage to the question of "why me?". Why is this my journey. It isn't fair that I've this path when so many others do not. While I do have some great friends, I still can't help but feel they don't quite understand what it is like. This again, leaves me feeling alone, and isolated.

So to answer my own question a while back, why do I wear my heart on my sleeve so often? Because I've lived alone since I was born, emotional isolation and a lack of any real connection with anyone close to me. When I was in middle school I used to ponder why I failed to feel any real emotion, at least now I can place a cause to it. That being a lack of knowledge and education through experience with my parents, and from locking myself, and being locked away, emotionally from my parents by a vulnerability of being different/incongruent. In comparison with other trans women, I'm not sure what is worse, being confronted by your parents and fighting with them over it, or being ignored and overlooked by them, left to fiend for oneself.