Beating the War Drums

These are tired drums. The old war between my body and mind is one fought for many, many years and for a while a decent armistice seemed to brew. Now though, tensions are starting back up. I could spend the hours trying to figure out the innevitable cause, but end the end it doesn't really matter. Be it stress, or hormonal fluctuations, or what have you, this existence is never one I will be at peace with. that thought, that I'll always be blaming and pointing at my trans identity as the root cause for all my personal, and interpersonal woes, is exceedingly exhausting. It would be reasonable if say, post surgery, I could just cast off the identity like so much baggage and proclaim myself cured, but that's not an option.

 

Speaking of, There's about 6 months until then, and I'm slowly coming to simply accept the fact that my parts will be ugly to me. At least then though their form will follow and match how they should. I can live with an ugly vagina, hell it matches the fucked up and ugly rest of me, so why should it stand out as being normal. I find myself asking why again, which I expect will start coming back up again as it draws closer.

I'm starting to feel numb again. My hunger and body signals are slowing down or becoming quiet, I don't know when I'm hungry or at least I never feel the urge to eat. I occasionally think about food if it comes up, but by and large its a thing I don't put thought into. This mirrors my thoughts on anything else, I'm bored and distracted easily, I find no real attraction or happiness from things. My sex drive or desire for affection has fallen off the face of the planet.

I don't want to do anything, and everything sounds like shit. I'm withdrawn, unsocial, and by and large simply depressed. In that though, It feels like disillusionment. Like there is no point or hope in trying to find the things I feel are missing from my life, the things that I feel are unsatisified. I base this, entirely off the few times that I can remember feeling as such, and trying to pursue the same avenues again (finding an D/S relationship for one). But even that I can't say was established in a firm ground of emotional health, wellbeing and secure/reassured reality. More, thrown into a full on NRE ecstacy filled abusive drug habbit with someone who seemed to get off on the idea. I remember being happy (or at least, the abuse led me to believe I was) and now I pursue that again because its one of the few times I remember not feeling partially empty inside.

Not to cast out the efforts and strides of my partner, who genuinly is wonderful. That relationship however, just isn't, and can't be the entirety of my desires. I hate that I continue to look for that missing piece, and I hate that I never find, and that I feel like I never will, and that there is no point in searching. It feels like I just have to accept the fact that I'll feel partially empty and hollow for the rest of my life, living a pale, shallow existence devoid of anything resembling meaning or passion. People say do what you love, or do what you want to do with your time. I have no idea what that is, and no idea where to even begin looking

Photographs & Cycles

So, I think most people can relate when I say pictures make me uncomfortable. However, having a photographer/artist partner has forced me to reexamine, and experience this in a much more present state of mind.

I've found that being asked to have my photo taken makes me not nearly as averse as having someone simply take it without my regard. I'm not sure if it is the control or respect aspect, of having someone ask permission for something that they should ask permission for, or, if it is the idea that I can mentally prepare for the act.

It might be a bit of both. However, I can, an have, posed for photos and been okay with photo shoots before. The idea being that I know what I'm getting into, I can mentally and physically prepare for the experience, and when I have, I've generally been okay with it.

The bits that bother me, are the casual, candid and voyeur style photos that often get taken when either I feel I'm unprepared, or don't want, to have my picture taken. It is disrespectful to do so, and most often people (and there are many different people) do it anyway because "what's the big deal". I've noticed it is always "I want a picture", emphasis on the I. Well, maybe I don't? Why does your desire for a photo, take precedent over my desire to not be photographed?

The big deal, is respect. Maybe I want to have a good time without worrying about the fine details of how I look, or, without being brought out of my good mood/fun time to worry about this photo, wear it's going, who has control over it, and who all is going to see it.

Maybe, I just want to experience a moment, without it being interrupted, to make me worry about all the ramifications of a photograph.


That bit aside, things are murky. I can't remember the past four months in any great detail. Not that they've been bad, in fact it has largely been good, but that it has been filled with routine. Albeit enjoyable, it still feels like I'm not going anywhere. I often feel powerless, frustrated, and at times depressed. I lack motivation to do even, remote aspects of things that might change my situation. I'll go to my therapist, then, think proactively for a day or so, then fall back into routine.

I'm afraid of wasting my life like this, playing games, going to dinner, doing the same bits in and out, yet, when prompted to do differently, I can't find the reasoning or motivation to do anything else. I feel very much trapped within the largess and monotony of bullshit socio-economic work/life routines. I go to work, for no real benefit or value to myself, but to pay the people who I have to pay to let me reside in their building, or use electricity, or cook food. I get no real value added to my life, that, couldn't be added by a series of highly trained monkeys or semi-sentient robots.

I'm not sure what I need to break me out of the cycle.