Mope mope mope

Okay I just can't cheer up.

Partially, I know it's that I'm missing Lee.

I don't think it's just a clingy thing, though. I'm not really a clingy person.

I think it's that, during this holiday, I've had almost constant social interaction. There have been only a few moments of quiet and introversion - I have been forced to engage and chat and be sociable in general. It doesn't come very naturally to me, after a lifetime of hiding at the fringes because people thought I was 'weird' when I did try to engage. I watched people. I grew up as an introverted, calm, silent person. I didn't talk unless necessary. I have never learned the point in small talk. I don't believe in flattery unless a compliment is honest or true. I don't believe in lying, even if someone may not like the truth.

Anyway, yes, two weeks of constant people. Trying to be true to myself, trying not to get upset at old mates messing my name and gender pronouns up. Trying not to go crazy.

And now I'm back in my empty flat.

It's got nothing in it but bad memories and a few good memories only the good ones make me feel even emptier.

I'm all alone.

This has never been a problem before.

I seem to actually be lonely.

This has never happened before.

And I can't let myself think, because then I get more depressed. I keep drifting onto topics that hurt - everything here links back to a memory of this flat when there are other people in it.

And lately I've been having a lot more trouble with myself.

My body is betraying me, and it hurts, and I can't wear my binder without it hurting, and I can't wear my packer, and.. I just generally feel shit. My body is laughing at me. And I wake up and it's all still the same and my appointment to see a psychologist isn't until the 29th of September. And.. I don't know if I will be able to get it moved up.

I need this to be sorted. This is taking so, so long.

I feel like I'll never be free of this.. This.. I dunnoh. It's not that I want to be free of my body - I don't mind it as a whole. It works, I'm not too fat, could do with being more guy-shaped and fuzzy, but the base body is fine with me. But then there are the parts that aren't right.

And right now, they're taunting me.

And I hate it.

I hate them.

I hate myself.

Gotta carry on though, right?

If I could get served around here, I'd buy some beer so that I could drink enough to fall asleep. But no-one will serve me as I don't have ID.

I wish there was another way to force my brain to shut the fuck up.

One that doesn't kill too many braincells.

...I might suck it up and get my hair cut tomorrow...

...If I feel a bit better. Which probably won't happen, but I can hope.

Return!

I should post something, about my holiday.

The problem is, spending time with her was SO GOOD. Waking up next to her was SO RIGHT. That now, I feel empty, lonely, and depressed. Not exactly flooded with words for this screen to regurgitate at me.

I have new binders - they're from Underworks and they're 997s. They're really awesome - I can't believe how much flatter they make me. I feel great in them.

I'm sort of dreading returning to work. I wonder how many stupid questions I'll get asked.

I had a bad day yesterday in the market.

I'm a bit bum, basically.

When I've cheered up, I'll post pics and a proper account of my fun.

Waves?

Sometimes I feel great, like, I'm finally on my way to having a life, to being confidant and happy and secure. I hate my binder but I love it - I can walk around outside in (admittedly layered) fitting clothing and be myself. I get called GAY or QUEER sometimes if the pissheads are out. As insulting as they intend to be it makes my fucking day. And I carefully lock my doors when I return home.

But every now and then, I get these waves of blackness in my head.

I just sit here and wonder.

Am I EVER going to get this sorted? How much longer do I have to.. To do this, this life that's not quite mine.

I'm sick of being called a 'good girl' at work.

It hurts. It's like a fucking little knife in my chest and they say it, so, often.

I generally try and pass it off, shrug it away like so much in my life - I was bullied at school; I've never really cared what other people say to me or about me, it was only being touched I couldn't stand back then.

But these days.

There is something that words can break into, and it hurts and it makes me wonder how long, and that makes it seem like I'll never ever get there. Like I'll be in limbo the rest of my life (however short it will end up) always waiting for a letter or a phone call.

I hate this feeling.

I hate my stupid chromosomes.

I don't wish I wasn't me. I just wish I could LOOK and be TAKEN as me NOW. Not be me, with parts that shouldn't. Fucking. Be. There.

I wish I had known this years ago, when it would have been so much better to transition. College or something, the end of school, late teens. Give me a chance, I keep thinking, let me go back and leave myself a note so that in one time-line at least, I get to be happy from the start of this supposed age of freedom..

Please, universe, can't you just shiver a bit, speed up, get me there now, send me back, anything?

The butcher calls me Sir.

My friends call me Ethan (or Sol).

My niece calls me Ethan.

My parents are getting a heck of a lot better at calling me Ethan thanks to my niece.

But I want it done, sorted, or at least I wast some, reassurance that it WILL happen, not this waiting and agonising and being out everywhere except work.

It's so horrible that I'm seriously beginning to think I have to tell the remaining family because if THEY call me by that name, today, I will be so, fucking, down, and it's just... Not right.

I don't DO extremes of emotion. But lately I do. And it's strange.

I'm worried that, being a calm, slow, controlled person, and I hear all this stuff about T making guys less emotional.. What'll happen to me?

Please let there be some good news soon, please, please, please?

Things and Dysphoria?

So. So much has happened.

I finally kicked my boyfriend out. I couldn't take it any more.

It went okay.

I feel really good lately, with all my friends calling me Ethan and my niece too. My family are even slowly picking it up from her. My niece is a difficult problem.. Well not a problem, but a bit of a conundrum. I'm not going to talk about it all again, it's in my August YouTube video.

I'm getting really.. Attached to my friend. And I don't want to.. But I do.. But... Gosh.

That's a story for another time.

But last night I had what I have to say is my worst ever dysphoric moment that didn't involve genitals. I was on Skype, mooostly topless. Whilst I want them gone, my chest isn't as much of a big deal for me - it's my lower parts that are the worst problem. Anyhow, I just, looked at my wrist, because it itched. And I don't know why but for the last month or two, the veins in my wrist and the back of my hand have been pretty prominent - it pleases me so much. And in the last few weeks, my wrists have thickened out a little due to the extra exercise I've been doing on my arms. And I dunnoh, I looked and thought hey, look at that, it's me. But, then, I had tits, and I'm Ethan and he and boy and.. I got.. I dunnoh I felt really down and disconnected for a long while and had to cover myself up (wrists included).

But that disconnection feeling hasn't happened to me for months.. And it's horrid. And it makes me wonder just how much worse this is going to get before I get T and it kicks in and starts making a difference.