of love.
Afraid to love.
Afraid to be loved.
Afraid I'll never be loved again.
Afraid I'll never be able to love again without being completely and utterly let down and rejected.
And it hurts like hell.
And yet I still love.
Still love one person who won't accept my love.
And it hurts like hell.
And I don't know what to do.
Day 8
10/30/09
10/29/09
"Whatever it is...
that pulls the pin, that hurls you past the boundaries of your own life into a brief and total beauty, even for a moment, it is enough." Jeanette Winterson
I am forever searching for that something to pull my pin. It just seems to be elusive. *sigh*Day 7 (morning)
10/26/09
"Our deepest fear..."
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
Marianne Williamson from her book A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of a Course in Miracles
I need to find my light again. It seems to have been stifled under a big pile of crap.
Day 4
Marianne Williamson from her book A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of a Course in Miracles
I need to find my light again. It seems to have been stifled under a big pile of crap.
Day 4
10/25/09
Fuck the stupid fucking EVIL empire
And all the bullshit it stands for. I FUCKING HATE my job. And at this point I might as well not even have one. I have ZERO...count them ZERO fucking hours on the next two schedules. And I was told that I have to be a fucking people greeter to get hours but if I get scheduled more than 50% in that position I have to take a fucking pay cut. Which is what is likely going to happen according to the evil sucubus bitch who is my boss. Fuck her.
I am sick and fucking tired of being screwed over. By everything and everyone. I am an honest hard working guy just trying to get by and I just get constantly shit on. I've done the best I can and worked my ass off for them and have gotten shafted over and over. And lied to. Their fucking politics make me physically ill. Walking into that place makes me physically ill. And just overall disgusted. To the point I left early today. I got chewed and lied to once more and after realizing they had enough people I lied to them and left. I can't handle it. I can't handle having to go to a place that sets me off to the point of BAD things happening. A place that just drags me lower and lower every time. But I have to stick it out until I can find something else. Anything else. I can't just not work.
Tomorrow I am going to go inquire about the transfer I put in for almost a month ago. Even though it would still be working for the fucking evil empire at least it would hopefully be with people who are a little more intelligent instead of the pool of fucking stupid rednecks I have to deal with now. And if that doesn't work I am going to spend the first week off (unless I get labor work I'm trying for) finding another job. At this point I don't give a shit what. Going to go to the career center downtown and see what they have. As long as I can maintain the income I make now - or should say have been making since I seem to be losing it. I have four more days to work until the zero hours start. Whoopdeefuckingdoo. I wonder if I can even manage that. I need the money but it is just so damn hard. Guess I'm just going to have to suck it up and bend over and take it for a few more days and then god willing find something better.
So that is enough rant for the moment. I am seeing fucking red. I guess I am going to just swallow a few more pills and just try to go numb. I don't want anything else to do with this day. I just want to sleep. So that is what I'm going to try to do. Sleep so I can get up early and see what I can get done. I am beyond fucking exhausted...mentally, emotionally, physically. And the last thing I want to do is break even more than I already have. Thanks life.
Fuck you Day 3
I am sick and fucking tired of being screwed over. By everything and everyone. I am an honest hard working guy just trying to get by and I just get constantly shit on. I've done the best I can and worked my ass off for them and have gotten shafted over and over. And lied to. Their fucking politics make me physically ill. Walking into that place makes me physically ill. And just overall disgusted. To the point I left early today. I got chewed and lied to once more and after realizing they had enough people I lied to them and left. I can't handle it. I can't handle having to go to a place that sets me off to the point of BAD things happening. A place that just drags me lower and lower every time. But I have to stick it out until I can find something else. Anything else. I can't just not work.
Tomorrow I am going to go inquire about the transfer I put in for almost a month ago. Even though it would still be working for the fucking evil empire at least it would hopefully be with people who are a little more intelligent instead of the pool of fucking stupid rednecks I have to deal with now. And if that doesn't work I am going to spend the first week off (unless I get labor work I'm trying for) finding another job. At this point I don't give a shit what. Going to go to the career center downtown and see what they have. As long as I can maintain the income I make now - or should say have been making since I seem to be losing it. I have four more days to work until the zero hours start. Whoopdeefuckingdoo. I wonder if I can even manage that. I need the money but it is just so damn hard. Guess I'm just going to have to suck it up and bend over and take it for a few more days and then god willing find something better.
So that is enough rant for the moment. I am seeing fucking red. I guess I am going to just swallow a few more pills and just try to go numb. I don't want anything else to do with this day. I just want to sleep. So that is what I'm going to try to do. Sleep so I can get up early and see what I can get done. I am beyond fucking exhausted...mentally, emotionally, physically. And the last thing I want to do is break even more than I already have. Thanks life.
Fuck you Day 3
Rocky Horror
Last night I went with my roommate to meet some of his friends to go see The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Tennessee Theater. I should mention that I also FINALLY got a haircut yesterday evening. And it looks really good. It is what I wanted and I got complimented on it by other friends after the show at Rodger's. Anyway...
I had never met any of my roommate's friends. He introduced me by my male name rather than the nickname he met me by to friend number one we met on the street who would take us to the rest of the group. We got to the restaurant and met the rest of the group and I was again introduced by my male name. Things seemed to be going well. Except for one hitch...the woman sitting across from me kept referring to me with female pronouns. The rest of the group was using male pronouns. Having never met these people before, I wasn't sure how to handle this situation exactly. So I let it slide. I am definitely still not used to correcting people. Especially people I don't know. I need to work on this.
Later when we got to the theater, one of the guys bought me a beer since I had no cash and it was a cash only bar. He said, "and whatever SHE wants." Strike two. We get into the auditorium and he has never been there and asks where the restroom is. I offer to show him (I had to go too) and he seemed just a bit weirded out when I followed him into the men's room. Oh well. Maybe he got the point then.
I sent my roommate (who was sitting next to me) a text saying, "I think I am confusing your friends. Getting mixed pronouns and not sure what to do about it." He responded that the first friend we met on the street apparently bitched out the woman sitting across from me at the table at dinner over the female pronouns. Interesting.
So while it seems that I am passing more and more these days, I am still confusing some. I had a woman this last week who I met with other friends down in Atlanta make a comment on my short hair (I was introduced by my male name). She said I would look really good with long hair. I told her I am trans. She said, "Male to female?" And I wasn't exactly sure what to do with that. Though I took it as a compliment and explained that she had it backwards. She didn't care one way or another she just thought I was a cool person.
I think my "tell" is my mouth. I have very feminine lips and a beauty mark on the left side. Nothing I can do about that. Otherwise my hair and everything else says "man". The only other thing I could think is my voice. Not sure.
I feel like a sort of odd social experiment these days. Every time I go out (except to work) I wonder who will pick what. Who will choose which set of pronouns even though I give a male name and present as such. It is an interesting feeling. But at the end of the day I am just me. A man born into a female body doing his best to be true to himself despite his given limitations.
Side note: the show was kind of a flop. The projector bulbs fucked up twice and though there was a shadow cast, their timing was pretty off. Otherwise it was just fun to be around a bunch of goofy people screaming random shit at a screen and throwing various objects all over the place at the appointed time. Hurling toilet paper in an auditorium is a definite win in my book.
Day 3
I had never met any of my roommate's friends. He introduced me by my male name rather than the nickname he met me by to friend number one we met on the street who would take us to the rest of the group. We got to the restaurant and met the rest of the group and I was again introduced by my male name. Things seemed to be going well. Except for one hitch...the woman sitting across from me kept referring to me with female pronouns. The rest of the group was using male pronouns. Having never met these people before, I wasn't sure how to handle this situation exactly. So I let it slide. I am definitely still not used to correcting people. Especially people I don't know. I need to work on this.
Later when we got to the theater, one of the guys bought me a beer since I had no cash and it was a cash only bar. He said, "and whatever SHE wants." Strike two. We get into the auditorium and he has never been there and asks where the restroom is. I offer to show him (I had to go too) and he seemed just a bit weirded out when I followed him into the men's room. Oh well. Maybe he got the point then.
I sent my roommate (who was sitting next to me) a text saying, "I think I am confusing your friends. Getting mixed pronouns and not sure what to do about it." He responded that the first friend we met on the street apparently bitched out the woman sitting across from me at the table at dinner over the female pronouns. Interesting.
So while it seems that I am passing more and more these days, I am still confusing some. I had a woman this last week who I met with other friends down in Atlanta make a comment on my short hair (I was introduced by my male name). She said I would look really good with long hair. I told her I am trans. She said, "Male to female?" And I wasn't exactly sure what to do with that. Though I took it as a compliment and explained that she had it backwards. She didn't care one way or another she just thought I was a cool person.
I think my "tell" is my mouth. I have very feminine lips and a beauty mark on the left side. Nothing I can do about that. Otherwise my hair and everything else says "man". The only other thing I could think is my voice. Not sure.
I feel like a sort of odd social experiment these days. Every time I go out (except to work) I wonder who will pick what. Who will choose which set of pronouns even though I give a male name and present as such. It is an interesting feeling. But at the end of the day I am just me. A man born into a female body doing his best to be true to himself despite his given limitations.
Side note: the show was kind of a flop. The projector bulbs fucked up twice and though there was a shadow cast, their timing was pretty off. Otherwise it was just fun to be around a bunch of goofy people screaming random shit at a screen and throwing various objects all over the place at the appointed time. Hurling toilet paper in an auditorium is a definite win in my book.
Day 3
10/24/09
Today
is a day I asked to spend with you. And I was turned down. So what happens? I dream about you. Not good dreams, but not nightmares. Concerning dreams. And towards the end one of your children was at risk of death. But she used her awesome intelligence and saved the day. It was horrible. When I woke up the first thing I wanted to do was call you. Call you to see of you are ok. Call you just to hear your voice for real because I heard it all night in my sleep.
It has been three weeks and some now I guess since I last saw you. I don't know the exact time. I would have to check the date on the speeding ticket I got on the way home from your house. But it feels like a lifetime. And to see your face all night in my sleep hurt. Since I can't see it in person. And I spent some time last night thinking about you while I was at work.
I was called outside to push buggies. While out lining up carts to put on the cart mule, I happened to look up and see a young couple sitting in their car. They were kissing. Not making out grotesquely but just sharing a loving, smiling kiss. And my heart sank. My stomach turned. And from that moment on all I could think about was the last distinct memory of kissing you. It's odd because it was not our last kiss. You were sitting in your car and had just let me out in my driveway. I was planning to come over (the last time I saw you) and you said, "Wait, maybe you should kiss me to make sure." We had spent the day with no physical contact. And I walked back over to your open window and leaned in. Put my hand on the back of your head and kissed you. And it felt amazing. All of the passion was there. The sparks. And for me the love. And something was very obviously there for you too.
The longer I thought about that kiss, the deeper my thoughts went. I started to wonder what it would be like to kiss you again. If I would ever kiss you again. I wondered if the opportunity arose if I would even want to kiss you. And if I did, would it feel anywhere near the same. I wondered if you would ever want to kiss me again. I thought about our first kiss at the bar the night we met. And I thought about so many of the kisses over the last 9 months. All the ones I could remember. I stared at my phone doing my best not to send you a text and realized that there are still pictures you have sent me saved there. So I looked at those. And I hurt. But it wasn't the sharp ugly pain. It was an extremely heavy ache. Which is what I feel as I am writing this.
Right now I wish I was with you. I wish I was on your couch with you pressed up against me, your body fitting perfectly with mine, your hair in my face with the TV on and my arms wrapped around your waist. I wish that you would turn your head towards me and shift your body and I would raise up on one arm a little and that we would kiss. That you would look into my eyes in just that way you do and move your mouth up to meet mine.
Maybe tonight in my dreams.
Day 2 Continues
It has been three weeks and some now I guess since I last saw you. I don't know the exact time. I would have to check the date on the speeding ticket I got on the way home from your house. But it feels like a lifetime. And to see your face all night in my sleep hurt. Since I can't see it in person. And I spent some time last night thinking about you while I was at work.
I was called outside to push buggies. While out lining up carts to put on the cart mule, I happened to look up and see a young couple sitting in their car. They were kissing. Not making out grotesquely but just sharing a loving, smiling kiss. And my heart sank. My stomach turned. And from that moment on all I could think about was the last distinct memory of kissing you. It's odd because it was not our last kiss. You were sitting in your car and had just let me out in my driveway. I was planning to come over (the last time I saw you) and you said, "Wait, maybe you should kiss me to make sure." We had spent the day with no physical contact. And I walked back over to your open window and leaned in. Put my hand on the back of your head and kissed you. And it felt amazing. All of the passion was there. The sparks. And for me the love. And something was very obviously there for you too.
The longer I thought about that kiss, the deeper my thoughts went. I started to wonder what it would be like to kiss you again. If I would ever kiss you again. I wondered if the opportunity arose if I would even want to kiss you. And if I did, would it feel anywhere near the same. I wondered if you would ever want to kiss me again. I thought about our first kiss at the bar the night we met. And I thought about so many of the kisses over the last 9 months. All the ones I could remember. I stared at my phone doing my best not to send you a text and realized that there are still pictures you have sent me saved there. So I looked at those. And I hurt. But it wasn't the sharp ugly pain. It was an extremely heavy ache. Which is what I feel as I am writing this.
Right now I wish I was with you. I wish I was on your couch with you pressed up against me, your body fitting perfectly with mine, your hair in my face with the TV on and my arms wrapped around your waist. I wish that you would turn your head towards me and shift your body and I would raise up on one arm a little and that we would kiss. That you would look into my eyes in just that way you do and move your mouth up to meet mine.
Maybe tonight in my dreams.
Day 2 Continues
Simple Things
Today (well I guess this is meant to be about yesterday too since it is after midnight) I am grateful for simple things in life. A warm shower. Clean sheets. Gas in my car. The undying love of the dog who is currently laying against my side, her nose at my elbow. A roof over my head. A job. A not shitty day at said job. A day off today. Decent food to eat. Things I seem to take for granted and overlook. I could continue this list with many more things but most are obvious.
I think right now the best thing for me is to focus on small, simple things. To take each day in small increments and break everything down into manageable pieces. Simple pieces. Pieces I can handle. The world has felt entirely too big and horribly overwhelming for quite some time now. And I think that is because I've looked too far ahead. I've played the "what if" game too much. I've taken things that were already simple and complicated them to the point of confusion and even pain. So it is back to basics.
I am proud of myself today for showering after work. For putting sheets on my bed. For at least a week now it seems I have been coming home dirty and falling into a bed with no sheets. In literal essence wallowing in my own filth and denying myself simple basic needs. Depression is to blame. When I get depressed I lose the desire and motivation to do simple things like keep myself and my surroundings clean. I just don't care. My hair is entirely too long as well and though I've been saying for weeks that I need a haircut I haven't actually gone to get one. I will remedy this some time this afternoon. I think that will help me to feel better about myself. And it is something simple. Maybe I will even get the laundry I washed a week ago folded and put away. Who knows. All I know is now it is down to one simple small step at a time. Simplicity in action and simplicity in thought. I think I can handle it.
Day 2
I think right now the best thing for me is to focus on small, simple things. To take each day in small increments and break everything down into manageable pieces. Simple pieces. Pieces I can handle. The world has felt entirely too big and horribly overwhelming for quite some time now. And I think that is because I've looked too far ahead. I've played the "what if" game too much. I've taken things that were already simple and complicated them to the point of confusion and even pain. So it is back to basics.
I am proud of myself today for showering after work. For putting sheets on my bed. For at least a week now it seems I have been coming home dirty and falling into a bed with no sheets. In literal essence wallowing in my own filth and denying myself simple basic needs. Depression is to blame. When I get depressed I lose the desire and motivation to do simple things like keep myself and my surroundings clean. I just don't care. My hair is entirely too long as well and though I've been saying for weeks that I need a haircut I haven't actually gone to get one. I will remedy this some time this afternoon. I think that will help me to feel better about myself. And it is something simple. Maybe I will even get the laundry I washed a week ago folded and put away. Who knows. All I know is now it is down to one simple small step at a time. Simplicity in action and simplicity in thought. I think I can handle it.
Day 2
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