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. 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......... |
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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