Exit Planet Dust, part ɳ

I don't know what number I'm up to in this series, whatever.

I had my first laser and electro sessions in years today. I've officially started my hair removal process, and I'm extatic, despite being incredibly tired and sore. But this post isn't about that.

I was terrified to move out, but I did it anyway. I don't remember much about my emotions during the searching process up until signing the lease on a place, other than fear and the occasional spark of excitement. I do remember feeling a lot of pressure to do this, which pushed me through it when I wasn't completely sure, or ready.

Since then... I feel like a completely different person. Or rather, I feel like a cocoon, and will some inevitable day turn into a different person. That metaphor fell apart fast. Anyway, I feel as if I can see the horizon, and it's incredible motivation. Suddenly all the little bits feel like meaningful contributions, and things make sense.

I've gotten more confident, I can mostly take care of myself (to at least prevent my death), I'm still learning how to do money but I have help, I've had weird and amazing experiences I wouldn't have if I'd stayed at home. It all begins at moving out. 2016, despite being pretty terrible globally, was pretty amazing in my own bubble. There was a lot of pain and confusion, but I see those for what they are: hard truths and learning experiences.

I'm excited to see the future. For once it seems like something worth putting effort into.

Self-medication

The way I got into the headspace of starting HRT again was to basically revert back to the early days. Trans 101, I suppose. I did all of the same things that I did back then, to remind myself of how I felt. It helped a lot, and reminded me why I started in the first place. One of the best things I gained during during transition was a large group of friends, which I'm slowly recovering.

Last night I went out to have dinner with a friend and some other people. I was quite anxious about it, and worried I wouldn't fit in since I'm pretty masculine. I debated not going, but knew I would regret that choice. This was going to be good for me, I need more friends and it would be good to do something that didn't involve my housemate.

I pushed myself, got ready and braved the night, and ended up having a great time. We talked about Overwatch, the MCU, shitty movies and other geek stuff. Despite it wearing me out extremely fast, I loved it. It was well needed, and I didn't even mind returning home to a dark empty flat. I just played WoW, talked shit at my guildies and called it a night.

This is a major thing for me. I actually did something good for myself that was social.

The first time I saw a transgirl

Highschool was super confusing, and kinda numbing. I'd known I was at least bi for a few years and was a closeted crossdresser since then, out to very few. By this point I had made out with a guy, gone to a gay bar, and some sexual stuff.

I was at a pre-party with friends, getting drunk before a friend's birthday where a ton of people were going to be. I was tipsy and told my friends I liked wearing skirts, to which they said I should wear one for the night. And fishnet stockings. Sooooooooo... obviously... being the naturally timid and scared boy I was.... I did. I was rather drunk by this point, but it was incredible, freeing, terrifying and kinda liberating slash erotic

As if that wasn't pushing my adrenaline, I saw her. She went to our school right? I knew her, but she was different before. My friend said she had changed genders, and internally my heart did a backflip. That's a thing? You can do that? Could I...?

I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to know her and ask her what the deal was cos I want in. I didn't, I was scared. But at least I knew I wasn't alone, and was surprised that I had even felt alone with this feeling.

Abandon ship

I gave up updating this place. For a while I thought it was because no one read it, but that didn't stop me from writing like 100+ posts. So why did I leave? It has nothing to do with the previous post, or who it's about.

It was about myself. I'd lost all hope and faith in myself. I'm not the person I want to be, and instead I crashed and burned out spinning my tyres. This place was meant to be my place to articulate my thoughts better than my diary, to post the refined thoughts so I could come back and re-read it in clarity. Nothing was happening in my life, so there was nothing to post.

I have a fire lit underneath me again. I feel.... things, again. I want things, again. I have a small light I can follow, and if that doesn't pan out I have backups. I'm basically starting my transition again, except I'm already out to most people in my life, I have tits from my last round of HRT and I have girls clothes. But in terms of confidence and self-discovery, I'm back to where I was in 2008 (not a good place). But I know relearning is faster and easier than learning new things, so I have an advantage from where I was. So maybe it's like I'm in square 1.5?

Years ago I met a transgirl who was just starting out, and I'd been transitioning for a while so I gave her advice. That advice was the bullet or the pill, and for a while I felt as if the bullet was inevitable. I'm leaning towards the pill now.

Btw, no, not The Pills. I'm still on them and I still hate them.

Panel

A while ago I was on a panel at a convention in my city. It was amazing. I didn't write about it earlier because the entire thing, while amazing and fun, was completely exhausting and I haven't had the mental energy to really think about it until recently.

The panel was for queer geeks, and it was apparently the first of its kind in Australia. It was pretty amazing, and really scary, to be up on stage not only in front of what turned out to be 60 people, but I was sitting next to some rather amazing people who had done some great things. It was great to hear them talk about things, and see the crowd react well.

I didn't say much, mostly because I didn't have much to say. Towards the end though, someone asked a question about queer representation in media, and I suddenly had a lot to say. I said I'm trans, and that there's basically nothing in terms of relatable characters/stories out there, and mentioned a little flash game I'd played a while ago that was about someone's transition. Someone in the audience raised their hand for the microphone and he said that he'd played it to better understand his friend's lifestyle and I was completely blown away. I just looked at him and said that was completely amazing and this is why we need more things of that nature, and everyone on stage nodded with me and I saw people in the audience really taking on what I had just said.

It was... intense, and amazing. I was speaking in public and not making a dick of myself.

As nerve racking as it was, and even though my anxiety is completely opposing to this, I love the idea of doing this more often. I think I want to make a career within pop culture. Somehow...

Defeat

I got some pretty badass dread falls last week. They're hanging up in my room, making me feel uncomfortable and just generally being imposing. But the cool thing is that they felt imposing and scary because of how you put them on, rather than how they make you look when they're on.

So today I took the plunge and tried to make my hair ready to put them in and it was a complete disaster that made me feel like shit and made me want to just hide in my room forever. I'm trying to tell myself it's because I was missing something to keep my hair more stable, but I don't think that's true. I'm just terrible at doing stuff to my own hair. My hair used to be blue, and I loved it. But now it's green and I have no idea what I'm doing wrong when I re-dye it, nor do I have anyone to help me or to even talk to about it.

I need help with this but I don't have anyone to call, or talk to, or to visit, or anything. It's just... me. I don't even have anyone to vent to.

Tomorrow I'm going to try again, but I don't like my chances... but I guess this is just about practice. The problem is I hate being shit at things, and have a lot of trouble pushing myself to do things I'm bad at.

Let's meet

Actually, let's not.

I've been talking to someone lately, and it progressed far enough to warrant meeting in person. This is great, I thought, this guy seems decent. We had a lot in common, in terms of kink.

So I asked where he'd like to meet, and he said my house. Um, no, that's not how this works, dude. Why not a cafe? Cafes are nice (and neutral and you're less likely turn me into a statistic), let's go to a cafe. Then, the bombshell: that's too public.

He does not want to be seen in public with me. He says he doesn't want people to know he's bi and kinky. After getting more info, it was clear he was referring to the fact I'm trans.

Dammit, this isn't fair. You can't have so much in common with me, and then be like this.

One strange thing about this is that I can definitely feel The Pills working. My normal reaction to this happening (he is the fourth person to do this) is to sulk for a few days in bed and maybe cry. Not crying over them, really, just crying because it's another layer of icing on the Shit Cake that is being transgender. But today, no tears, very little bed.

I can almost physically feel my thoughts bumping up against a wall, but not that type of Wall either. Maybe it's a new type of Wall, one that's keeping me from accessing the bad thoughts, but my brain is a creature of habit, and doesn't yet understand that there's now a Wall in the way, so it keeps going for them.

The result is me being very confused about my own headspace. Like I said, I can almost feel what's happening in my head now, because something about it has changed. I know what I would normally be feeling, and this latest one has been the worst of them all, so I should be a wreck. But I'm not. I've had a vent to some people, had a minor sulk, and resumed my day. It's not that I haven't felt the hurt, or sadness from this, but now it seems I can put it in it's place a lot better.

Better living through chemistry, indeed.

Bottom heavy pt2

A few weeks ago I noticed the platform on my boots was coming off, so I stopped wearing them and vowed to get them repaired. And I kept that promise, even if I waited almost a month.

I felt so naked without them. I just wish I did this sooner, it was so easy. But I procrastinate a lot, which is one of the many things I'm trying to fix about myself.

Also, It's funny this happened now, because it's been almost a year since I first got them.

Community - Self worth and contribution

There is an interesting word I sometimes associate with the trans community. Without further explaination, it sounds like I'm here out of some obligation, or pressure to perform. That word is debt.

I owe a lot to the trans community in my city. It's been my safety net in many ways, it's helped guide me and give me advice and has always been there. The awesome thing about it, is that if someone who I usually turn to for advice or help is unavailable, I can ask someone else. More and more over the last year and a half, I've found that people have been asking me for help, which has been well documented in this blog.

These people are part of who I am, and where I'm going. They helped shape me. And so, when I became stable enough to be able to be in that sort of position to others, I jumped at it. And I'm glad I did. It's been rather rewarding. But this isn't what today's post is about. Today's post is about someone else's debt.

I was contacted earlier this week by a good friend, and said someone she knew had something to offer me. I won't say what, but to say this is going to be a help is to undermine and insult what this really is. This is monumental, and somewhat life changing. I met up with that person today, who told me that she's doing this because she feels like she owes something to this community, and wanted to repay it in a way via this amazing gift to some lucky person. Although, I find out it's not "luck". This is where my brain trips over and breaks its leg, however.

I have... earned this. People have noticed the effort and time I've been putting into this community. The energy I put in, out of this weird sense of debt. It's a feedback loop as well, because the more I give the more I get. I was talking about this concept to mummy, and I said that I almost felt like I'd need to add this to the pile of debt I have, but not in a bad way.

I've been given validation, in a way. A sign to say "You're doing things right". So now I can continue to do the things I am doing, do them better, and maybe do more things. And not because I'm getting noticed, or any sort of rewards that might come along, but... I owe a debt to this community. One that I'll gladly pay off multiples times over.

Two years, pt 2

Today marks 2 years on hormones for me. Naturally, this is a time to look back and see what I've learned, and how I've grown. Thinking about it, today is actually more important to me than my birthday. It's been a long journey, part of which is chronicled right here, in this blog. But the real meat of it is documented somewhere that has closed down now, so that timeline is lost for good. I don't mind, really. I remember the important parts, and a lot of it is written down here.

I've learned so much. I've gained some responsibility. I've grown. I've learned a lot about self-acceptance. And I like to think that I've been sticking to the lessons I wrote about last year, and have helped guide me. I am in a healthy relationship, I have a wonderful family in my trans group, and another family to look forward to getting to know. I've made a lot of progress in terms of transition, some more trivial than other parts. I've seen that the world is not as bad as it seems to transition in, while seeing some of the worst and coming back for more. I've learned that you have to start somewhere if you want to get anywhere. I've learned how to create a silver lining, and to understand the root of some of my own issues, and I've learned how to forgive.

I've learned about D/s, and what I want from it, and how beautiful it can be when it works well.

And to celebrate, I'm going to go to whatever government building I have to in order to legally change my name. It's been a little overdue. After it comes through, I'm thinking I'll have a little fire at my house to throw some old things into.

I'm a little nervous, but mostly excited.

Two years, pt 1

Seriously, this is my third (or technically fourth) post in one day.

I'm a day late, I was out most of yesterday, but yesterday marked two years ago that I met mummy. I don't really know what to write here, because last time I wrote something about this I had to start from scratch. But this time, I have over a year of writing to fill it all in for me. And it's been a looooong year. I'll fill that in next week though, for now, all I have to say today is that I love you Serina, red hair and all.

The big sister

I got a message out of the blue the other night. It was from someone I hadn't seen in a very long time, and they said they had a new transgirl for me to meet and talk to, because she had a heap of questions.

First thing: they came to me. Me. Ylatch. Me. I was the first choice, too.

Second thing: she's a really amazing person. I can't even describe it really. I've only been talking to her for a few days, but I already feel a weird big sister vibe with her. She's really brave, and smart, and really really open about everything. It's great to finally meet someone like this, it's been so long.

She's been asking me questions, some really personal, and I've been talking to her about what to expect from transition, and hormones, and reactions, and everything. It's amazing that I'm in this position.

People like this remind me of why I wanted to do the intro-night for my transgroup: I had a lot of support, but before that I didn't have anyone. I want to give something back to this amazing community, while also providing something that I feel I didn't have when I needed it most.

And you know what? It feels fucking great to be in this position. To help people. To be someone people can turn to for any sort of guidance. It feels like I'm slowly finding my place, in a way.

Removing the ceiling

I did it.

I quit my job. I feel pretty good about it, and the way I did it. And I'm glad I decided to go one more day, because today was terrible. Absaolutely horrible. And it left a nice seed in my mind that tells me I left for the right reasons.

I left on good terms with my boss, and pretty much everyone. I said bye to who I wanted to, sans one person, but it's ok. None of them were friends, they don't know me, or the reasons I left. Which is the way I want it.

This job made me feel like I had reached all I could right now, in terms of transition. I couldn't progress the way I wanted, I couldn't do anything overtly permanent. And now it's.... over. I can change my name. I can do what I want with my hair. I can wear what I want all the time. I can... be me

Work

It's come to a point where I just can't stay at the job I have now. I don't work that often, 5 hours every two weeks, but it still takes away too much energy and gets in the way of a big part of my life: transitioning.

I'm working this tomorrow, hopefully for the last time. I'm not telling my mother until after it's done, because she won't stop me from quitting and she'll get angry. So I'll tell her when I'm done.

I'm really scared though. Serina has been so helpful and supportive of everything lately, but I'm not going to see her all weekend because her and E are going to a kink event (one that I can't go to cos of work) so I kinda feel a little lost. I don't really know what I'm doing, how to approach my boss about it, or how to say it. All I know is that in 48 hours time I won't have to worry about going back again. I can't really talk to Serina either, because I have serious issues with the phone.

So I just have to hope I do ok by myself.

Pride

I had a meeting with my transgroup tonight, most of the committee was there and we had a very good talk about how the group is going, and what we want to do. The first time we had a meeting like this we had arguments and misunderstandings. This time we had one minor issue that got solved almost instantly, and the rest was listening and learning and talking like civil human adults, which is a hard thing to acomplish among a group of young trans people from extremely different backgrounds who are going through an extremely hard time in their lives.

This is what I'm proud of. We're moving forward, we're progressing, we're putting ourselves aside and thinking that's best for the group. I feel really lucky to be a part of this.

The real B

Post 101.

*: When I say family I mean extended family, my mother already knows.

Finally christmas is over. What a nightmare. In the week leading up to it I had a bout of immense depression every day, fearing my family because I'm not out to them. I broke down at my psych appointment, and closed right up and refused to open again. She tried to put my fear into a focused direction, and face it in a practice run with her, probably in an effort to show me it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. That just made things worse, and all I wanted to do was go home and lie in bed and never ever leave.

That night I thought about quitting transitioning, suicide, running away, and realised those were less terrifying than coming out to my family and I haven't really changed my mind either.

What I keep coming back to is that nothing will change. I came out to my mother over two years ago and nothing has changed. She still treats me like a guy, still refers to me as male, still calls me my male name. The only thing that's changed is I dress like a girl in front of her now, which I guess is something... but after two years?

I've been told that I'm just hiding myself from them, which I guess is true. But if nothing has changed with my mother after two years, it's not going to with the rest.

I'm not really sure what to do about this anymore. I hear it's nice in Queensland though.

The inclusive isolating community

Serina and myself were out shopping in an op-shop, and we happened to see another trans-girl, who was looking at us, almost like she really wanted to say hi.

We really wanted to say hi to her as well. But we couldn't. It's just not done. Which is heartbreaking, and quite conflicting to what is spread around the community. We're meant to be a big family, and support each other so no one feels alone when it's so easy to feel that way.

And yet, the 3 of us exchange knowing looks, and go about our day, trying to not look at each other again.

No other community is like this, because no other community's desire is to blend in. Trans people want to be invisible, and just live their lives. But most bizarrely, the only place we want to be approached for being trans is at a support group, or with friends. In specific locations. At specific times. I see it partially stemming from a concept I posted about a while ago, no trans person wants to be "that trans person". We don't want to be singled out for our trans status, even if it's by another trans person in a safe (public) place. There's no other common ground, nor is it an appropriate place to approach anyone (in a clothes store).

There are some who just don't want to be part of the community at all, and stare daggers at any trans person who dares exist in the same dimension as them, which is sad, but I can see where they're coming from. But the other day when we saw this girl was different.

It's such a conflicting coexistance. It's almost like being part of Fight Club.

What I want for christmas

Mum has been hassling me about christmas. It's a complicated issue with this family, but it boils down to her pressing me that I should want X when I really just want Y.

In our extended family, we do a non-anonymous Kris Kringle. We all pick a name out of a hat and that's who we buy for, because our family is so large. I'm buying for my grandmother, and my uncle Vin is buying for me. Mum has been telling me for a few weeks now that I shouldn't just give my uncle a list of DVDs or one big thing, because "it's boring" to do your shopping in one place. So she's talked me into trying to think of things that aren't just movies or music, and I keep coming up blank. There isn't anything I want that isn't like that, nothing that would keep me in the closet anyway.

I saw my psych today, and she cheered me up. She finally got it into my head that I'm allowed to want what I want for christmas, and tough shit for mum if she doesn't want me to want it.

Amazingly, since I've gotten over this little hump, I've thought of things that aren't just in one shop. Go figure.

I'm going to ask my grandmother what she wants.

So that's my extended family sorted out, now for my actual mother...

She's asked me for a list of stuff, and again, I keep coming up short. I don't know what I want her to buy me. There's only one thing I can think of that I really want for christmas, and that' a name-change form. I want my real name to be what I've been going by for the last 2 years. I have to think when I introduce myself as my birth-name, and be careful not to say my chosen-name.

I want my name for christmas.

Binging and quitting (Motivation 3)

I can't do moderation. I just can't. If I let myself have even a little bit of junk food, I'll just keep eating it and eating it.

With this in mind, my diet has been to basically cold-turkey every food I love, because everything I love to eat is terrible for you. People kept saying that it shouldn't happen like this, but I can't do it any other way. I can't have just a little bit every now and then. I need it all the time, or never.

It's been about a month since I started doing this , and I set out mostly what I wanted to: To fit back into my lolita outfit.

About a week ago I got really really depressed about it, all I wanted to do was to eat something that tasted good. So I looked up how much your mood should change on a diet, and every single result I got was that if dieting makes you miserable you're being too hard on yourself and too strict. But, once again, that was the only way I could do this. So that night I weighed up things in my head:

Would I be happier eating what I liked, and be chubby
Or
Would I be happier being thinner and not eating what I liked

So yeah, I went with the chubby food-loving side.

It's not all bad, though. The night after I decided that, I went to McDonald's, just cos I wanted SOMETHING unhealthy. I ate it, and guess what? I still didn't like the taste of it.

So I reconsiddered what I wanted, and how I was going to achieve it.

It's taken a few days to think it through, but I think I'm going to continue with what I was doing, but giving myself a break, and trying moderation. I don't think it's going to have a good result, but trying is better than just resigning myself to a weight I'm unhappy with, right?

Motivation pt2: Life without caffeine

I'm not sure if that's the correct spelling of caffeine, but it doesn't look right no matter what.

Anyway, after my terrible realisation and about 3 days of self loathing, my feelings about it weren't going away. So you know what I did? I did something about it.

I'm losing weight, and fast it seems. My psych has already seen a difference, though she may just be saying it. I'm already to the point where I fit into my lolita outfit quite comfortably again.

What am I doing to lose weight? I've cut back on a lot of things, and cut out a few things almost entirely. I'm trying to eat better food, and generally lower quantities. No more coke or soft drink every day. In fact it's been a week since I had coke, and before that it was 5 days that I'd had any.

For the first week it was utter hell. I had a migraine every single night, and my stress levels went through the roof. The headaches have gone for the most part, but the stress thing  is still a bit of an issue. I'm coping as well as I can though, and Serina has been a huge help at keeping me level-headed and in a healthy area of the spectrum. By now I'm pretty sure I would have either just eaten loads of junk every day in an effort to cheer myself up, or completely starved myself in an effort to just make some sort of progress.

One thing I don't like is how people react to me losing weight. They ask how much I weigh (I don't know) and ask how I'm losing the weight, and what my eating habits used to be like when I tell them. Then they say "Ohhhhh, that's really bad for you". I know! That's why I've stopped!

One thing I'm struggling with is the guilt. Sometimes I can't tell the difference between a treat and me gorging myself on sugar. I'm pretty much only eating junk food on saturdays, which is the day I work. And I think I'm only doing that because of the stress work gives me, so if I don't work I just don't eat junk food.

Well, at any rate, this seems to be working. I feel lighter, less clogged, I sleep a lot better, however my energy levels have gone way down. I was under the impression they'd go up, but oh well.