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.

Perfect

I spend a lot of time waiting. The right moment, the right time, the right person, the right place... but it's dumb. I'm spending a lot of time thinking of later and I waste the now.

I've had a rough week. I went through another pretty bad body image episode, and I feel like I'm getting better. But it doesn't solve the problem. I don't like my body how it is, and I want to lose weight. I was successful at it for a while, and then I stopped because I hate the process and I missed the things I'd been missing out on (comfort food and energy drinks mostly). Now I realise I know how to lose weight, and I just need to keep going and start exercising again... except it's raid night so I can't, except I had junk food today so it's already a write-off, except I'm feeling shit, except whatever else.

It's not just with exercise, it's with a lot of things. Part of it is not knowing how to start some things, but mostly I'm just waiting for the universe to tell me it's time, when it should be the opposite. I want to do things, so fuck you get out of my way it's time to do it. That's how I want to be, instead of how I am now.

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.

Something fancy

Just like last time, I wanted to make a note of the fact I had a blood test and didn't puke or feel dizzy, despite having a small anxiety attack in the waiting room before-hand. So here it is, yay.

But that's only part of today's story. I'm still feeling that fire, so I went to my doctor and talked to him about starting HRT again. Since I was forced to stop last time because I'd never seen a psychiatrist who cleared me for hormones, I went in thinking fuck it, I'll just bite the extremely slow moving bullet and get a referral and just have to wait the 9 or so months. So I laid it out for my doctor, and he said "Ah I see. Well it says here you were on progynova, so I'll write you another script for that and get your blood tested in a month to see how that goes."

Wait, what?

It turns out having a paper trail is actually handy. He didn't question it beyond what I took and how it felt when I was on it. So here I am, back on hormones, wondering if it was this easy all along. Then I'm reminded, no, it really wasn't. Part of it is being ready, and I wasn't until recently.

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.

Lines and limits

Today I was tested.

One of the people who let me down a while ago was over, and we played, and it was fun. I checked with my potential Master, and he said sure fine have fun. After it was over, and she went home, and I got online, I told him that we would like to make it a regular thing, and he said he had problems with that. In short, he doesn't like open poly type deals, just within his circle, his family. Which I can respect, and understand the appeal of.

He also understands my perspective, and we pretty much agreed that this wasn't going to work, and that was that. No hard feelings, no anger, he just said "it's beset to be open and honest".

I've never had this happen before. All previous breakups of any kind have been a complete mess of tears and confusion. I was looking forward to pursuing this with him, but this is a real and valid reason a relationship can't work. I enjoy (at least the idea of) playing and having sex with multiple people, and he doesn't agree with that.

I never thought I'd draw a line in the sand and stick to it. I was tempted to pretend this part of me didn't exist, but maybe I'm growing up or something, because after 20 minutes of really thinking about it I realised I couldn't do that.

Savour

I'm writing this with the total awareness that it's not even been a week.

Things have gotten interesting. I'm currently under consideration by a Dom, which is a nice feeling. He has some rules in place already, and while they barely impact me at the moment, I'm taking them seriously, to show him I'm genuine, and want this, and understand what this is.

Right now, it's a morsel of it all, which is normal and fine and cool. But it tastes oh so sweet.

Wanting isn't evil

I have trouble expressing what I want, especially when it comes to sex. I dealt with a lot of assholes when I was younger, who either disregarded what I wanted or ignored it. So I'm a bit hesitant to say what I want, because I'm not used to it mattering, or having someone use it against me. So when it comes to most of my life, I hide what I want. I pretend I don't want it.

This likely has a lot to do with my self worth, and even my weird passive aggressiveness with feeling ignored. It makes sense in my head: if I tell someone I want something from them, they will intentionally not give it to me to make me suffer, or set me up for a bigger fall later by agreeing and backing out later. Again, I can understand, in my head, how 99% of people won't do this with that motivation in mind. In my warped mind, by showing minimal interest I'll get what I want, because showing enough interest to do it, but not enough for people to hurt me from it, will get me what I want.

It's hard to remember when it happens though. It's so hard to remind myself they're not doing this to hurt me, and being hurt is just a result of it, not the intention.

I've been getting in practice with saying what I want, and it's rather freeing. I've been talking to a boy who's coming over monday, and we've both been saying what turns us on, what we like. I almost fell into my usual trap with him, and started to be really blase with him. But I was talking to someone about him, and their boytoy, and I realised that he wants this too. I didn't want to come on too strong, nor did I want to show I really wanted this, but I showed it to him today, and was received with massive positivity.

I feel good. I can't wait for monday.

Accept

My mental state is somewhat positive lately. I have a playdate on monday, and I've just generally been feeling good about myself.

This is, of course, after contrast to how I've been feeling lately. And For how bad I felt, it didn't last as long as it usually does. I was going kinda crazy, because I wanted some kink in my life again, and I wondered what I was doing wrong. So instead of sulking and complaining, I asked Serina what I was doing wrong, because she knows more about the community than I do.

So at least now I have a direction. It felt nice to just accept I was feeling shit about it, that I was doing something wrong, but didn't know what.

Want and Confidence

On new years my friend dyed my hair black and blue. I never thought I'd have the confidence to dye my hair, I always thought I'd regret it and miss my brown hair. But I love it, and I love wearing it. It makes me feel better about existing in the world.

Years ago I got the idea to dye my hair, but I chickened out. What will everyone think? What will they say? Now, I don't really care.

I've also done something else that I've wanted for a while, and got my nipples pierced. The actual getting was awful, but made better by a wonderful piercer and Serina getting me lunch. Afterwards, though... the high I felt was intense. I was so proud of myself.

It barely even registered that I was topless in front of a stranger. Actually about 4 strangers, the piercer's boy was there and two students came in while I was taking a break and lounging around topless, they didn't react so neither did I. Maybe body confidence comes from accepting your own body, rather than changing it to what you want it to be...

Confidence is a really nice thing. It's kinda nice to be in a position where I can appreciate my own confidence, because I come from a place where I didn't have any.

How far are you willing to go?

I thought that as long as I got what I wanted in the end, and as long as no one got hurt, it wouldn't matter what lengths I took. Doesn't matter if I'm used, or hurt, or made colder.

I don't think I can actually push myself that far. Maybe I'm too soft for this kind of attitude.

That same someone seems determined to remind me of the worst that people can be. Aside from his looks and kinks, there is nothing good about him. Perhaps nothing good can come from interacting with him.

He did a lot of things that didn't bother me enough to leave, until last night. He takes pride in never apologising, even when he really really should. He believes he is never wrong, when he is frequently. The only misunderstandings are of the people around him. If he never admits fault, there can be no trust. Thus, there can be no play between us, because that shit is dangerous.

I have low self esteem, not a death wish. Maybe I'll go throw myself at someone else.

Made of glass

I went to a kink event last night with Serina, E and L, and had a great time. Since I'm exhausted and the words aren't coming, I'll blog about it later. But something happened last night at one point.

E and L were playing, so I sat on a couch near someone and tried to strike up conversation with someone, and didn't get a very good reception, which was kinda disappointing. On top of sitting in a low chair in a corset, I guess I had a look on my face that told Serina I was freaking out.

She kept looking over at me and mouthing the words "are you ok?" and I kept saying I'm fine. This kept up for a while, and I got really frustrated at her. It kinda felt like before, when she treated me like glass. After the last couple of months, this event was pretty awesome. I wasn't overstimulated at any point, not anxious, or scared, or anything. I was just having fun.

So to have her look over at me, worried I wasn't handling things... it made me kinda sad. Like maybe I hadn't changed as much as I thought. Eventually she came over to make sure I was ok, and I kinda snapped at her.

After a minute the guilt of that kinda washed over me. She was just looking out for me, and after some of the other times we've been at kink events, anyone would have been keeping an eye on me.

Three years

Last month was the 3 year anniversary of coming out to my mother, and it's about 3 years since I first went to my psych.

3 years ago I was... basically a child. Too scared to go out into the world for anything, too scared to do anything that wasn't video games. Today with my psych, I realised that I've basically become a person in the last 3 years.

It's really scary to think about how I was before, but maybe this is why I'm enjoying life so much right now, because I'm only just experiencing it. It also seems to be a snowball effect, because I've made a lot of progress in the last 6 months alone. That's most likely momentum propelling me forwards at new speeds.

But... where did this person come from? Sometimes I feel like a new consciousness inhabiting a body; the memories of the old consciousness are there, but it's all so fuzzy and blurry it's like watching someone else go through these awful things.

I think I like being a person.

Trust

These last few weeks have damaged my trust of people. Too many people have made promises they couldn't, or simply didn't, keep. I've basically quarantined myself from most of my friends, today being an exception because of TDOR, because being around some of them makes me sad and angry. I'm positive it will pass soon. But the damage to my trust has already been done.

Serina (ex-mummy) has re-entered my life with her typical clumsy crash, taking a coffee table out as she entered, and I'm rather happy she did. It's been nice reconnecting with her, but she's not immune to my trust issues. Because of recent events, and our history together, I'm keeping her at arm's length for a while, just like I am with everyone.

As for where we are, we are just friends. Although "just" doesn't really come into it. We work better as friends, as we've proven many times in many ways, so we're staying friends. Best friends, it seems.

Who do you want to be?

I grew up sheltered, as I've discussed. I remember wanting to go out, finally doing so, and it being a nightmare because I was so anxious and unsure of myself. I was always up for spontaneity though, even in the thick of my anxiety, but rarely found myself in a situation where I could follow through.

I always hated it. I hated wanting to do things that were out of my reach. I wanted to be able to handle being in new places with new people and not keep fighting off a panic attack, or feel a mountain sized amount of discomfort that transcended reality. I kept pushing and pushing, and try to move into this person I wanted to be. Felt I should be. Maybe it's out of some kind of self loathing, to want to move away from this person so desperately. Maybe it's out of some kind of love for myself, to move to who I want to be.

Looking back, my Night in Hell was an act of desperation. I still don't regret doing it, but I think I wasn't ready for it. It was the most vividly I felt the need to get the fuck away from myself, and it blew up in my face, and just reminded me where I'm from.

So, how did this fragile and damaged human being end up at an abandoned church for an industrial rave at 2am, an hour and a half out of the city with someone she met 3 hours beforehand?

Last week I met this woman who invited me to a party last night, and I went. I knew no one there, but I got talking to a few people, one of which was the author of a children's book, another was trying to find someone to go on an adventure with. Ignoring the fact my entire body already hurt because I helped trim a massive tree that afternoon, I raised my hand and went off with this girl who's name I didn't even know, to go to a place I didn't know the location of, to have an experience I'd never had before.

We stopped off in the city for supplies, some of which somehow made it back to my bedroom, and took the trek to Craigieburn. We found the church easily, and before we went in I reminded her I'd never been to one of these things before, and she understood not to abandon me.

Again, like my Night in Hell, this thump thump music permeated the air. Unlike that night, we were immediately greeted by someone extremely friendly and welcomed us into their pocket of the world. Huh, these people are human Was what ran through my head. Almost all fear left me, and I went inside to see something I'm having trouble describing. Half a dozen people all solo slam dancing around, one guy literally pressing his head against a speaker that towered over him, and the music that was being pumped out by a solo DJ at the front was varying and insanity-inspiring, but also somehow beautiful in it's own way. It was rather appropriate we were in a dilapidated church: Satanic symbols flashed around the walls while the flock was being entranced by this lone figure at the front, spewing out his message.

I hugged my new friend and screamed into her ear "Thank you for bringing me here".

Big Fish little fish

Have you ever seen someone from across the room, and how they carry themselves, and thought I need to be friends with this person?

I see them a lot. Yesterday, I got up the courage and decided to introduce myself to the latest one, to not only be met with a smile, but an invitation to their picnic blanket and 3 hours talking to them and their friends. My small little world suddenly got a lot bigger.

I'd been feeling somewhat limited and sheltered lately. I was soaring because of The Pills, and slowly the momentum wore off. Strangely, there wasn't a crash, but a slow stop. As great as my trans group is (and I seriously love them all) I've been feeling the need to branch out. I've been growing, not necessarily away or past them, but I want more in my life than just the queer/trans community.

This is actually a big step for me. For so long, I felt swamped with what little I had going on. Slowly but surely, I felt myself becoming a bigger and bigger fish.

The people I met are extremely open minded and some seem to be very arty, which is fucking great for me. I've needed something to get my creative juices flowing, expand my mind and learn some new things. I'm going to one of their galleries in the next month, and I'm so incredibly excited I think I might pop.

Out and about

It was national coming out day in America yesterday, and a friend of mine is talking about coming out to her parents as trans. Surprisingly, this got me thinking about coming out to my mother, but mostly, my mentality around that time.

I keep a diary, and I reread it sometimes, and the entries around that time are weird, and kinda distorted. Not that I need to read my old diary to know what I was feeling, I remember it. You don't forget something like this. This is the kind of thing not many people do, inform your parents that you're not really male, or female, and expose yourself after hiding for so long. I remember right before it, I was terrified. The only other terror that tops it in my life is when I was in hospital when I was 13.

I was at tafe studying multimedia. I didn't really want to do that, but I enjoyed it and I was good at it and couldn't think of anything else to do with my life. I met some good friends there, one of which I still talk to almost every day. But this is the time when my depression was at it's absolute lowest.

I was part of a forum for trans people (not Laura's Playground thank god) and it was a pretty relaxed place in one way, but really intense in the other. Everyone was really eager to show off their battle scars, tell everyone about their suicide attempts and DIY orchies and just wallow in self destruction. I stayed there to learn what I could, a lot of people had different perspectives and attitudes and threw them around liberally. But I hated the place because just as people were eager to show off how damaged they were, others showed how perfect they seemed. Posting timelines and stories and other things, and I was extremely jealous of their progress.

One day, in a usual Help me come out thread, someone posted a short story of their life as most people did. But unlike the others, this person resonated with me, and said something I still remember, 4 years later: it's either the bullet or the pill. It's a twisted form of motivation, sure, but it worked. You get to a place where you're at rock bottom, nothing else matters. You move forward, or you just don't.

Offline, my life wasn't very good. I was depressed, and didn't know what to do. I had no motivation to do anything. I felt like I was just living for someone else, because this wasn't the life I wanted or cared about. Eventually, I settled on the fact that I was mostly numb. Sex didn't feel good. Getting drunk didn't do anything except make me sick the next day.

I was having an exceptionally bad day one day, I felt absolutely horrible about myself and everything, and looking back on it now, I went home from tafe that day knowing I would either be out to my mother by the end of the night, or I would kill myself. I told no one else this plan, though. Some people knew about me already, which was good, but wasn't enough. I needed to progress.

I had no safety net, though. No job, no money. I couldn't leave if she reacted badly, I couldn't call for help. I had nowhere to go. The only safety net I had in my mind was, essentially, suicide.

I felt Walled off that whole night, before I told her. I'd spent so long hiding any aspect of myself from her, more than just being trans, and I was about to expose everything. I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff, staring down it. She could tell something was on my mind, but I kept deflecting her questions. I wasn't ready.

I went into my room and got on the laptop to get my mind off it and maybe get some confidence up. Then out of the blue, it hit me. I told my friends what I was about to do, and I went to talk to my mother.

"I need to tell you something"

We sat down in the loungeroom, and I told her everything: I'm a girl, I like guys and girls, I've had sex with both and I'm really depressed.

She asked questions, I answered them. It was all over in less than an hour, but it felt like days. The chatroom I was in had exploded at the news of what I was doing, and then it exploded again when I said I was back, and that it went well. It was really comforting to see these people care about me so much. Then I told my best friend, and he was so excited for me. I was actually happy that night, for the first time in a long time. I felt like I could think again. I felt a massive weight lift off me. I... felt.

So what did coming out do for me? It let me move in a direction I actually wanted. It let me feel comfortable in my own house. It made me feel like I didn't have to hide myself from the world. It set me free.

The headaches have returned

In a mindframe similar to my new weekly ritual, I've started to lose weight. Or try to, anyway. I suppose this is just another aspect of me moving forward, since I've wanted to do this for a long time, but felt like the world didn't want me to.

So, the first thing I did was stopped drinking coke every day, a habit that creeped in again. Just like last time, I've started to get a headache at the loss of caffeine in my system. Also on the chopping block is chocolate, and most really sugary things in general. I've done this enough to know that the cravings are temporary, and today is one of the last days I should be feeling the intense cravings.

Since it's getting into warmer weather, I'm going to start going for walks and then move up from there. Hopefully I'll start feeling better about my body in a few months.

Rituals, or Healthy Body Healthy Mind

In my last relationship, the state of my body was pretty much irrelevant. It's nice in some ways, if I didn't feel up to shaving something (even my face) then it didn't matter. But I wanted it to matter, I wanted her to care. Like most things though, it wasn't met with much interest, so I just let it slide until I didn't care about it anymore either.

The last month, though, I've had a desire to care about my body. Every week, I put aside an hour or two, and shave everything below the neck, and lay in bed, naked and wet and tired, and just absorb the feeling. It's a hard thing to grasp, to feel positive about my own body beyond "it's just barely good enough" but ever since I started this, I've felt... sexy.

I've even gotten to the point where I've taken some new photos of myself for FetLife, and all have been met with positivity. Again, like my previous revelation, I'm not putting them up to gain validation from others. This is me flaunting newfound confidence.

The interesting thing is that this is all in my head, but that doesn't make it a bad thing. All I'm doing is shaving some hair. I'm not losing weight, or fixing my female voice, or even dressing differently. It's just... hair. Yet it's removal is making me feel good about myself, and my physical body. It's a strange new feeling to care about your own body in some way.

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.