I find myself so frustrated lately, and I do promise that I will concentrate on lighter things shortly, having all these worries floating through my head right now like:
Is my younger brother really moving backwards in acceptance in my transition? Will my mother continue sabotaging me, trying to make it harder so that I give up? Is my older brother really healthy for my trans and gay friends to be around will he accept me? Will my sister cut me off from my neice and nephews? How far will my step fathers rage go? Did I really screw up my schooling beyond any hope to fix it? How many years before my student loans debt is gone? How much longer after that will I ever have credit? Will I be fifty before I can ever hope to get a mortgage for a home? Will I be in the closet at work for the rest of my life? Will I still hate myself when I start visibly changing more? Will I be ugly? Can I trust anyone to talk to... Its been so long since I've hung around with any lgbt friends, I miss the acceptance and the use of gay in any positive sense of the word. The transgender day of remembrance was painful this year, I am stuck hiding and quiet. I keep trying to get things that I have always wanted, that I used to want, because it fit in my minds picture of what my cozy dream home would hold. As if one could collect enough pieces to complete the puzzle and solve life. I find myself having a hard time seeing into a future anymore though, I go by old pictures and old lists, pretending that they are still there. All I see when I try to look to my future is a short strip of the road left. I think of all the obstacles and how I can ever live with one of them continuing negatively and it feels like It is just a matter of time before the road runs out.
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No lies, the weekend was wonderful, it has been a long time since I didn’t hate myself every single day and had to struggle with wanting a way out over dealing with so many evil fuckers. Today I had to take care of some particularly frustrating things that tend to piss me off. A big chunk would be the constant struggle for our Quiltbag (lgbt) campus group’s fight for our funding assured to us seven years ago. Months after starting the process of explaining every dollar of our budget and where it goes and in which order it will go to things, we are still being told to jump through more hoops in hopes of getting any funding. I am a peace loving hippy, but the rage and hatred they manage to get out of me is not easily abandoned. Never have I wished people to die violently as much as I have them. I spare no applause for the new variety of ways they seem find to rape us every year. We started so strong with some lgbt in the students union executive when our group was first created and it has just been downhill from there, soon we will have no support in any way from them. Already having events has been crushed this year, first our bar nights(only queer bar scene in the city) then any other on campus events, all our resources have been lost, and now any funding. We are finding no way to rebuild what we had in the very beginning seven years ago, at least with any support of our campus's students union(which is typically where our group on a campus would get funding).
Yup, so full of Rage that it’s not funny. No, seriously, I'm a Wiccan hippy. My murderous rage is not funny it feels like my soul is being tainted by this hatred. Beyond these last few years I had never wished ill upon anyone. So, this will be my first attempt to type up what may have been the scariest day of my life. I was at a friend/acquaintances place when I came across one of my mother’s status updates that freaked me out. It was a coax to a friend of the family to come home, that everyone was getting worried that they were missing. I started texting my mom right away, having some anxiety that they might be taking off out of town and I might not have another opportunity to see them. I started calling and texting. Something felt wrong and I found out that my step father was actually driving around town in hopes to track him down. As embarrassing as it was to really bug my step father about coming with him I kept texting him. Tea club dissipated and instead of catching a ride home I felt a need to walk. I walked straight to the mall nearby. I was watching for the red car that my friend was supposed to be in. I was feeling sick and couldn’t pass a red car without making sure it was at least empty. Was he with friends hiding out so that he wouldn’t have to deal? Taking off right out of town? Or was he just sitting in the car with the weight of his problems?
I felt stupid, people probably think that I’m looking for unlocked cars, but I continue to the mall, but I don’t feel right, I can’t distract myself at all. I feel like I’m going to see him soon, run right into him. I would give him a solid punch to the arm for scaring people. I feel so embarrassed that I still feel sick and cant distract myself, I had stuff I should pick up but I can't. Every time I stop for a minute I feel like I’m going to throw up, I had to be outside. I keep walking, Timmies, everyone loves Timmies. No luck, I keep checking the parking lot. I walked over to the far corner of the lot where the semi's park and I hear it. “Oh my god! Someone call 911!” I ran over right away. In my mind it hit me that it was a red car, but it still felt like it couldn't be my friend. I got around to the drivers side fast as they opened the door and reached in to pull out my friend. There was blood everywhere. They kept saying his name over and over, now all of them freaking out and calling 911. They were sobbing and talking to the dispatcher while I checked him over. A few tears came to me, this was my friend, feeling like this was the only way out or at least the least painful way. The whole thing was what you would expect in a horror movie. He was covered in blood along with half the car. Thick gashes up both of his arms, deep cuts spread wide open as if someone started to use him for dissection. With throat slit and multiple arteries hit, there was blood all over the car. His arms were too much of a mess to try to start getting him clean. The best we could hope for is keeping him conscious and stopping the bleeding. We lucked out that everyone found him when we did. Most of the cuts were clotting and he managed to keep conscious. I kept track of what I could, watching his breathing, checking his pulse, and checking his skin for changes, what I could remember about my first aid training. His sister came over to watch him and I kept an eye on everything to make sure there were no changes. Once the paramedics arrived I reassured his family that I felt he would be fine and was doing good, and asked if I could catch a ride with them to the hospital, explaining finally who I was. Once I was at the hospital I just broke down. I have lost too many people I love, and almost lost him too. So many times he had tried to talk to me in the past months. I would talk to him then, but outside then I stayed away. Through ups and downs with his spouse, I felt I would only complicate his life. We had first met when he was around 14, I suppose I was 9, he had started working for my step father and was on his own already. Though I was quiet and shy he was nice to me. He became a part of our family(which tends to take in people with no family) in no time at all and he treated me better than anyone I knew. In fact, when some of my peers started taunting me when I was with him he shut them down. He started talking to me whenever he was stressed or trying to figure out life, not saying much to most of his peers. I was quiet but very observant because of it and was able to give him pretty good advice when he needed it. He was definitely considered to be fresh meat even at 17 and had quite a bit of attention. He tended to loose his shirt at parties and women tried to get into his pants all the time. I'm unsure of when but eventually I noticed him too. It was a bit odd for me that he could be so pretty. I suppose it was through having an intimacy with him of sorts that I developed my first guy interest. Don't get me wrong though, he was one of the few I could trust and never peeved out on me. My siblings and step father would try to bug me about him to see if I ever fancied him like the other girls, but it never worked on me. No one really knew that I adored him so much. He must have been about 19 when he started dating a new girl that he really ended up sticking with, this was when we just stopped talking regularly. It had been depressing to loose touch and have to be like strangers when I saw him after that. It had only been the beginning of this last summer when we had some good chats. After he tried to end his life I would wake up every day and just start feeling worse and worse until I saw him. Over those next two weeks I went early to see him and stayed late in the evenings until I had to run off to work. Its not that I thought something bad was going to happen that caused the anxiety though. It was just that between what had happened and almost loosing him it was like my heart couldn't take not being near them. As if I couldn't really function anywhere else, when they were in the room I finally could relax. They fulfilled my selfish requests and insisted I was always welcome. Over time I was able to calm the anxiety more and let them resume their life more. One day in the hospital I heard him try to recall anything from the day and he told everyone that at this one point he had felt so comforted and soothed by whoever it was talking to him. To my thrill he described when I was talking with him and he asked everyone who it had been. I kept quiet and was happy that I had actually gotten through to him, I had told him that I wanted him to hold on because I couldn't stand to loose him again. I'm happy that I was able to be there for him. As horrific as it was to see someone I love so much almost die in front of me, at least I was forced to show I really cared and we managed to reconnect. Over the past few months I have enjoyed hanging out with him and getting to know his kids. One of these days you will die. Someone I love, and hate greatly. I will never shed tears for you. After all your violence and your hate I will fight showing relief when you die. It is not my fault for hating you so much, I fought this feeling through many years. I just cannot forget, and thus, can never forgive you. I prayed often when younger that the gods would show mercy on my mother and kill you. I prayed that she would find the strength to leave you. You are a person full of hate and violence. I know a great deal of that is the only thing that you know. I know your life was full of violence before your family came to be. I had years of memories, not all terrible. You were a father to me occasionally, between drinks. But I cannot forget. Thus, I can never forgive. When the day comes you die, I will fight the relief. The violence will end with you.
~A warning that this gets detailed and very violent from here on. This is where Connors, Whit and my birth father (though highly unlikely to ever read this) specifically need to stop reading if you ever get to this point, because I know these things will honestly make you physically ill. If my sister or brother(again quite unlikely) ever read this, it is up to you whether you want continue, I am sorry however if you ever do even get this far, this will put the pieces together for you as well and its hard understanding what was going on. I love you guys.~ If you wish to continue onto part II, the just click the Read more button right....below................Here......... One of these days you will die. Someone I love, and hate greatly. I will never shed tears for you. After all your violence and your hate I will fight showing relief when you die. It is not my fault for hating you so much, I fought this feeling through many years. I just cannot forget, and thus, can never forgive you. I prayed often when younger that the gods would show mercy on my mother and kill you. I prayed that she would find the strength to leave you. You are a person full of hate and violence. I know a great deal of that is the only thing that you know. I know your life was full of violence before your family came to be. I had years of memories, not all terrible. You were a father to me occasionally, between drinks. But I cannot forget. Thus, I can never forgive. When the day comes you die, I will fight the relief. The violence will end with you.
If I must not speak ill of the dead, then I will speak of the violence now and (hopefully) be done with it. How would I ever tell anyone then? To not worry about the tears and sorrow, that there is one less abuser in the world. How would I ever tell my sisters or brother, my nieces and nephews? They will all see me coldly not grieving. I will just lie and tell them I’ve lost too much over the years to shed any tears for the dead. When the abuse started my mother let her love of him and fears of my little brother losing his father hold her there. She somehow felt that a screaming alcoholic rapist was still a father. Even before the drink he would yell and scream at us every day. I was not use to it and it affected me most. My younger brother pretends that it never bugged him, but he grew up with hate in him and it twisted him for many years. He never learned how to treat people; it took him until he was nearly 17 to make a friend for himself. When our father wanted to yell at you, you cannot escape. If you feared him and tried to hide, we would kick down doors to scream at you. Worthless little fucks like us need to listen. Don’t look too far away from where he is but don’t make eye contact. Either will cause him to fly into a fit of rage. He would drink and fuck anything around. I believe that all of the kids caught him at least once. My sisters friends dangerously looked up to him, I still don’t know if he ever did one of them too. My mother wrecked his chances when she would catch him hanging out with them. ~A warning that this gets detailed and very violent from here on and so you know when I refer to my ‘father’ from here on in, it does not mean my birth father for my mother did not ever stay with him. It refers to the man that has had a deal of time in our family and was given right to be father figure. You cannot undo what you will read and know if you do read the rest of this blog post. Most of my friends I have resisted telling because I feel that once known that no one can look at him without hatred, that it makes my siblings look uncaring and ignorant, and because the hatred it can cause in a person could cause someone to seek out ending our fathers life. If someone did do that, it would be because they couldn’t stand to know such a person would be allowed to live, and because of such, I wouldn’t want them to go to jail for it. This is where Connors, Whit and my birth father (though highly unlikely to ever read this) specifically need to stop reading if you ever get to this point, because I know these things will honestly make you physically ill. If my sister or brother(again quite unlikely) ever read this, it is up to you whether you want continue, I am sorry however if you ever do even get this far, this will put the pieces together for you as well and its hard understanding what was going on. I love you guys. To help with curiosity, In a nutshell, my ‘father’ is a very bad person and my mother has taken the brunt of it.~ If you wish to continue, the just click the Read more button right.............below.........................Here......... So I hear that this whole rape thing is a problem. So I decided to look online to see if I could find some advice, some preventative information, that would help out. I found some persons interesting list of Tips to help end Rape. I hope you find it useful.
Ten rape prevention tips: 1. Don’t put drugs in women’s drinks. 2. When you see a woman walking by herself, leave her alone. 3. If you pull over to help a woman whose car has broken down, remember not to rape her. 4. If you are in an elevator and a woman gets in, don’t rape her. 5. When you encounter a woman who is asleep, the safest course of action is to not rape her. 6. Never creep into a woman’s home through an unlocked door or window, or spring out at her from between parked cars, or rape her. 7. Remember, people go to the laundry room to do their laundry. Do not attempt to molest someone who is alone in a laundry room. 8. Use the Buddy System! If it is inconvenient for you to stop yourself from raping women, ask a trusted friend to accompany you at all times. 9. Carry a rape whistle. If you find that you are about to rape someone, blow the whistle until someone comes to stop you. 10. Don’t forget: Honesty is the best policy. When asking a woman out on a date, don’t pretend that you are interested in her as a person; tell her straight up that you expect to be raping her later. If you don’t communicate your intentions, the woman may take it as a sign that you do not plan to rape her. (Rape prevention tips Posted by Leigh Hofheimer) Key part: When in doubt, DON'T rape. We know we are in a sick world when we would rather blame the victim and ignore it. Rapists end up going free and it is shrugged off as a lesson in life. What is the lesson exactly though? That it is only a matter of time? I wish my mom, my nana, my neice, my sisters, my friends could be safe. I wish that every rape was treated seriously. That way maybe it wouldn't be just a matter of time for them. This list reminds me that I am not going insane, the world has screwed up views that need to change. No one asks to be raped, from those who have experienced it, living after such an experience is often described as a fate far worse than death. Like your very soul has been violated and abused, leaving a sick filth left that you cant seem to remove. I figure that this may just cause people to start any sort of debate on societies views of sexuality and gender, but I am always up for that fight. Online that is, in person I may get sick of it and potentially push you into traffic while you tell me that anyone was asking for it. Cause you would be asking for it. I have seen the pain, and felt a great deal of it myself, when many fantastic women and men I know have tried to deal with being victims of such violence. I was looking at some 'slutwalk' photos and saw a sign that remind me of a few friends fears. I can relate, by 12yrs I was very aware of rape and molestation and it saved me quite a few times. I was lucky that I managed to say all the right things and they took the bluff and left, but it was never guaranteed that it would work with the next one. It failed to work for one of my best friends and they were attacked repeatedly, while others looked the other way, because they didn't want to listen. They didn't stop, they kept adding victims, and I just kept praying for their death. Praying for a gun and meeting them in a dark alley. At 12, I could only see the darkest parts of the world and was disgusted by people, my world was only black and grey. I was outraged that people would know what these people where and did nothing, people with far more power than me to do something about it. I was outraged that my parents would allow them to keep going on in life and not be locked away to keep them from attacking again. For the ones I faced I just got to be more disturbed and hid more. That doesn't seem right. Anyway, here is the signs message: "I'm scared to ride the bus. I'm scared by myself. I'm scared at night. I hate men. I think they are violent and out to get me. I'm scared to walk alone. I'm scared to dress nice. I'm scared of being in relationships. I hate to be touched by men. I cry when I feel threatened. The biggest fear I have is to be raped. I feel like I can't trust anyone of the male gender. I am paranoid! I am the product of a domestically violent father and the culture that excused him." Don't think that just because society likes to sweep it under the rug that it ever fixes anything. No one, no matter the genders involved should be allowed to do these things to another person, no excuses should ever be made. Have managed to kick that habit for long enough now to consider it gone for a good long while. Yay me! I still can have a Batman like voice when I want to, but the extensive lung capacity frightens me, how can you breathe when there is so much air in your lungs! O,o The credit really should go to my friend coming back into town and my fear that they would start bugging me about it. I
So I just finished accompanying my good friend for his Prince Albert piercing, for those that don’t know what that is, it is a piercing that goes through the outer shaft of the cock, glides nicely in the inner shaft and then comes out the tip. It was very interesting seeing it done as I am quite a fan of piercings myself. I'm in a great mood today due to my great company lately and playing dungeons and dragons which has always put me in good spirits. Lately I have been keeping myself busy being a whore on Ebay, collecting different anime cosplay items (usually jewelry). I also picked up a sweet mechanical pocket watch that I cannot seem to get enough of. I don’t partake in cosplay but I do enjoy tossing on a piece of jewelry that reminds me of a good series. For fun I have some of the easy to get items like Fruits Baskets, Kyo’s bracelet, and Inuyasha’s Shikon jewel necklace. Truthfully my niece is guaranteed to try to steal the necklace since she has fallen in love with the anime Inuyasha. The next pieces that I am getting in include Dr.Who’s 10th doctor sonic screwdriver, Samurai Champloo’s Mugen Earrings and Bleach’s Kisukes Hat. Already I’m laughing at the idea of me facing my next blackout with only the sonic screwdriver and its constant buzzing sounds while I use it as a flashlight. The next items I will be trying to hunt down will be some lime green All Stars and the blue sweater that Misha Collins wore in supernatural when he played himself. Admittingly, I quite like the character Castiel and Dean Winchester from the show and enjoy Misha Collin’s random tweets. I have watched some supernatural, lots of my wonderful Studio Ghibli Collection (41 discs), Once upon a time, and Adventure time with Finn and Jake. It’s my holidays right now so I will be back on tomorrow to write, and get some good drawings done. Cheers.
A few weeks ago I had the scariest time of my life; it felt like one of my worst nightmares was coming true. Today I feel pretty lucky, it’s just past world AIDS day and my brother just joined me to watch some ‘I love you Phillip Morris’ while his computer buffered. Full gay sex scene and both our reactions is of similar comfort of seeing Jim Carrey vigorously top some guy with a mustache. Next on the agenda is to watch ‘but I’m a cheerleader’, Netflix has my love for its LGBT choices because they are hard to come by at any local video store. I am avoiding Angels in America and RENT, but ILYPM was worth checking out because of my undying love of Ewan McGregor. Of course all loading times are filled with the beautiful voice of Jay Brannan(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AV5XzKjz2Y). It’s been a nice day overall.
Sometimes it is difficult to face the problem of the future. Being in my later years of university I often find myself lost. Being in university means there is expectations. Everyone assumes that they are following a path that will lead to getting that career. In actuality this sets us up for disappointment because even getting through school doesn’t mean we will get what we want. I ask myself sometimes how far I think that I will be able to go before I find myself stuck trying to figure out what to do with my life all over again.
It can be scary thinking about my goals. Everything feels like its half luck anyway. The part of me that feels that my happiness lies within simpler things has been stepping in lately. I want a home with a big yard, 2-3 dogs, 2 cats, and a quad that I can take down to the corner store. I want to keep learning about various topics of interest, to finish reading Mr.P’s literature books that he gave and suggested to me, learn my martial arts, and be able to play some musical instruments with some competence. It’s simpler than becoming a University Professor. I feel like my life is lacking now because I’m following the latter and am unsure of how long before I find myself able to find the former. Part of it is that I’m scared of loosing what I have in friends and goals if I back away from school. I have spent a decent amount of time this last year pushing people away into acquaintance status. I wonder how well I will fair one day being separated from their paths in life, turning our random hanging into something that has to be set up. It feels like gone are the days when I had a handful of friends that I felt would last over distance. |
Kris
I am a Bi+Trans geeky student who is all about Gaming, Music, Drawing, Writing, Anime, Comic books, and Web comics. Categories
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