All in the eyes of an Autistic punk|
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|Thursday, February 9th, 2012|
|Sorry for such a long interval
I've gotten somewhat busy since my last post, sadly not with anymore of a life than I had before. I spend a lot more time on facebook and Deviantart and such. Although I have become a regular contributor to an online Christian periodical called Whosoever Magazine, a bimonthly publication for lgbt Christians. You can find my articles there under the name Simyona Deanova, it's my trans name, but I also use it as a pseudonym when I write.
I've also been helping my parents with things from time to time, like helping my dad cut an old boat to pieces the other day so he can get it off his property by the 15th to avoid being fined by the city. Sweaty work? Not at all. I live in the Midwest and it's winter here, so I ended up with a little bit of frostbites. Played hell with my joints though, had to bring my cane with me today. Though the weather may be partly responsible for that too. Doctors refused to diagnose me during the very brief period in which I actually had health insurance, but I've definitely got a touch of arthritis. Arthritis at 26, fancy that.
I've come so much farther on my spiritual journey lately than I would've expected. I'm actually able to practice "stillness" fairly easily now. I just clear my thoughts of all anxiety and allow the Holy Spirit to pour into me. First time I tried it it took about 20 thirty minutes to unclutter myself. I have way too much anxiety most of the time, it bogs me down. I'm really not sure where it's going to go from here, but I've been getting told a lot lately, especially by friends, that I need to be able to just live in the moment and not worry so much about tomorrow. Paranoia is a hard thing to let go of, especially when everything that's not happening for you seems to justify it.
Took some pre-employment testing for Metritech the other day, but that doesn't guarantee anything. My next appointment with Dori at DHS is next Wednesday. Hoping for the best and trying to remain calm. Stressing out over things has not proven to help me one bit with anything, so I'm gonna try letting go of it for a while. *shrug* Certainly can't hurt.
Before I go, I'd like to post something from my writing notes on an old story idea of mine:
All that follows has been pieced together from old manuscripts, transcripts, and personal, as well as professional, Documents from an age long past.
In some areas, the materials above mentioned were found to be fragmentary, repetitious, or exaggerated, though most are still considered reliable. This would have created noticeable gaps in the story unfolded if not for the willing aid of certain friends among our Guardians, the Galacinians, who were present during the chronicled events. Though in some areas their memories and experiences proved imperfect, their help has been indispensable.
We have tried to reproduce, as completely and accurately as possible, the many acts and trials which foreshadowed the Age Of Return. Despite our wealth of resources, and the aid of our Guardians' personal memories, the inevitable holes still remained. We therefore have tried, wherever possible, to surmise and intuit as best we can which shape(s) the proceedings in question had taken. In a few areas, this was fairly simple, in others not so.
The picture we have completed for you must be taken as equal parts legend and historical fact, with the line between somewhat blurred.
Most indispensable of all has been our Guardians', as well as those scholars among us, assistance in deciphering many of the old and alien tongues in which the original materials were composed--including, but not limited to, the following:
Meydeglysh, Amerislang, Nu Graek, Asiantka, at least one case of Middle English (a very old tongue indeed), Euclidish, Camainean, and Triklythaon.
Such were the prevailing languages of the bulk of our source materials. As puzzling as such tongues are to us to-day, they were among the common stock of our ancestors' speech.
Some liberties have been taken, though not many, where our source texts failed to produce insights into certain "characters" in the larger thread of the story. For instance, the Crocilian warrior, Kretaaktikaa, failed to leave us any records of himself and was only revealed in his significance through the words of his compatriots, both human and alien. There was but one among our Guardians who remembered him personally. Thus, the reader must assume that much of his personal development here presented is to be regarded as guesswork.
But this is to name a single example, a few others had similar stories; we shall omit them presently in the interest of expediency. No doubt the reader tires of explanations. We hereby release him or her to engage in the world within the text.
That's pretty much all I had for today.
|Tuesday, June 28th, 2011|
So I read this online magazine for lgbt Christians and recently decided I wanted to try getting onto their writers list, which would mean they'd e-mail me topic ideas once a month and I would write articles based on those ideas. This is something I never would have thought of doing a while ago because I write mostly fiction, as fiction is where my greatest strength lies. But I'm not entirely inexperienced with nonfiction/inspirational writing. I just wanted to give it a try, to challenge myself if nothing else, as well as being able to contribute to one of my favourite magazines.
I GOT ON THE LIST!!!
I'm not really sure when they'll send me the first idea to write about, but I guess it'll come when it comes. Now, of course I'm really nervous, worried that I won't be able to write good enough articles for them, but really I worry too much about things. It's something I really need to work on not doing. It's also not a paying position as far as I know, so I'll still have to find a job with income as soon as possible, but it's a nice start. Who knows? Maybe this will end up being a gateway to other sorts of writing/job stuff. I'm not sure about that, personally, but it sounds nice. And I tend to doubt happy things a little too much. Guess we'll see where things go from here.
S.D. Current Mood: energetic
|Thursday, March 17th, 2011|
|So it's been ages since I visited this site.
Unfortunately I've more of an obvious following on the sites Deviant Art and Facebook so I tend to spend a lot more time on them and this site just kind of got lost in the shuffle. I don't know if anyone still pays attention to my livejournal, but I thought I'd post on here again all the same. I'm in one of my slightly better spells right now, but only just coming out of one of my worse spells. Last week saw a brief relapse of my D.I.D., and something was forced out of me through prayer at my new small group later that same evening. Right, I got a new small group I go to now through my church. First small group I've ever been to that seems to compliment and sort of indirectly encourage my journey as a Christian Mystic. I look forward to going to it every week, but I'm still encountering some resistance when the presence of God is invited. My small group leader has expressed concern about this, especially after last week. I also still seem no closer to finding work, but keep getting prophetic words from people telling me that the thing God has in mind for me will be revealed soon. I should probably remind people at this point that the church I go to is pretty radical, but not in a scary "convert or kill" kind of way, and not in the fucked up way that Westboro Baptist is radical.
Trying to work on my paranoia issues, but am still routinely plagued by them. I've started submitting to literary magazines again, thanks to a sweet new website I found via Writer's Journal, a writer magazine. Due to a recent, but mild, finger injury I've not been writing much in the last few days because of a lack of confidence. Which I guess is kind of ridiculous as I seem to be typing this entry just fine. I'm feeling kind of meh right now, which I guess isn't so bad. My right knee is killing me as I sit here typing this. I think I'm going to end here at this totally random spot. Yep.
S.D. Current Mood: mellow
|Thursday, January 27th, 2011|
So my mom and I were discussing the possibility of my donating plasma and thought she remembered me going to do it once. I reminded her that I had taken Shannon so she could do it, but had not tried it myself. I also answered her next inquiry by saying that I had assumed since I wasn't allowed to give blood they wouldn't let me give plasma. So of course she had forgotten why I couldn't and wanted to know. I reminded her that it was because of the clause about "having a sexual encounter with 'another' male since 1978", even though I later got tested and found my blood to be clean. So I said I might look into it anyway and just answer "no" to that question since I know my blood is clean. She said, "Well, if you had sex with a guy and might have AIDS then maybe you shouldn't." I explained to her, trying not to let my irritation enter my voice, that there was never any exchange of bodily fluids, which is just a fancy way of saying that he didn't orgasm. The only penetration was oral, though I'm not certain my mother is ready to hear that I gave a guy "head", so I left that part out. And I say again THERE WAS NO ORGASM. That doesn't make me feel all that great emotionally, I mean, really, I would have preferred knowing that my blowjob was good enough to make him come, but at least there isn't much chance of HIV infection. After all, in order to contract AIDS there must be some sort of exchange of bodily fluids from one party to the other. This did not occur. There was no blood contact, there was no input of semen, there was, in fact, nothing of that sort. I just ended up making my jaw muscles sore from sucking his dick, only to have him eventually tell me that he didn't "come" to oral sex. *shrug* So my blood and plasma should still be save for anyone else who may need it. I'm O- by the way.
Also, quick anecdote: that expression "Once you go black, you never go back!"? I think I effectively disproved it. Yeah, my controversial "sexual encounter" was with an older black man (consensual of course) and I didn't find him to be any more or less exciting than my current fiancee, who's white. It's not about skin color, it's about emotional connection and fulfillment. She does that for me. As for the other guy, I apparently was just a one night stand to him, so in the end it wasn't really worth it. That speaks for him and him alone, by all means ladies and fellas, try yourself a black lover and see if you like it. Just make sure you're single when you do it, otherwise trouble could ensue. Make sure they are too. That's all.
Simyona Deanova. Current Mood: blah
|Tuesday, January 4th, 2011|
|Writer's Block: Children of the sun
How do you think aliens would regard our society? If an alien ship landed in your backyard, would you run away or bring a bundt cake?
To begin with, I would probably approach it cautiously, curious but unsure of its intentions.
|Friday, November 5th, 2010|
|Tomorrow's gonna be LOADS of fun.
Fri Nov 5, 2010, 10:47 PM
Part of me is looking forward to it, the rest of me is nervous. Mostly because I know what I'm going to have to be focusing on tomorrow. It's gonna be...well, let's just say this "intensive" is properly named. Who'd've thought I'd... To be honest? I don't think I want to forgive my dad. Feels strange for me to say that, I'm used to forgiving people. I've had to face some hard truths about myself, but this is the hardest of all. I'm afraid of losing the resentment I have for him, even though I know damn well that it's poisoning me. I know that if I don't forgive him for all the shit he's put me through, even for all the shit he still puts me through, it'll literally kill me. And it'll destroy my relationships with everyone around me. But what if there's nothing left under the resentment? What if, without that poison, I have no emotion for him at all? Somehow to be numb feels worse than the resentment. I know how it goes: "bitterness (or is it resentment? maybe it's both) is a poison we swallow hoping the other person will die." But how do I forgive him? That's the only obstacle I have left. Well, a lot of the other shit is still there too, but this is the only significant obstacle I have left. Why should I forgive him? You don't have to answer that, I already know the answer. Still, the very thought brings about bitter tears. And for now at least, the hate is back. I FUCKING HATE THE PRICK!! But then where has that ever brought me. I just had this same discussion with my mom earlier tonight. I actually talk to her, and though she doesn't fully get it, I mean the whole trans thing, she at least makes an effort. And she knows how I got this way with dad. My brother can't remember how bad it was, my mom says he's probably blocked all the bad parts. I've blocked a great deal of it, but not all. "You always got the worst of it," my mom reminded me, "you were the only one that ever fought back." And oh, God do I remember it now. Not all of it, still mostly blocked. But I remember a few key moments of how he was with me. Part of me thinks I remember him actually enjoying it a little bit when it happened. I don't want to forgive him. He's the reason I've always found authority unreliable. He's the reason I hate men. He's the reason I feel so useless sometimes. He's the reason I have trouble seeing my own beauty far too often. If not for him I'd never feel ugly. It's because of him that I didn't know what "unconditional love" meant for so long, he's why I'm afraid of men. In a round about, it was from him that I learned to hate. I just don't know. I just... I don't want to forgive him. And for that, I hate myself. Fuck. Now I've finally admitted it to myself. I hate myself for hating him. IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE!! He deserves my hate!
Or maybe he doesn't. I don't know. I just don't know. And I can't talk to him about this, he listens like a two year old on crack. He hears what he wants to hear and shuts out the rest. Same goes for what he sees. I can't even talk to my brother, who should understand better than I do. For fuck's sake, he was addicted to cutting, drugs, and alcohol for a few years because of that man and because of the fucking incompetent monkeys the Blue Ridge school district had the nerve to call high school teachers. He won't talk about any of it, and he always sides with that fucking bastard. "You always egged him on." He once said to me. He made it sound like it was my fault our dad did that shit!!! What the fuck?!
And anyway, what good ever comes from talking about my issues with those two? My dad probably thinks he or my mom made me the way I am, my brother treats it like some sort of dirty subject his daughter Jasmine would be corrupted by if she heard about it. My dad fucking shuts out the most significant part of who I am, and when he doesn't he belittles it, treats it as a joke. Tells me I look ugly as a girl. He's more concerned about his own fucking feelings than anyone else's! WHY SHOULD I FORGIVE HIM?!!
Probably because it's better than being dead inside. And that's the fate that eventually awaits me if I don't. I'm already starting to follow the pattern of my main character from It's Numbness That Kills The Soul. Unless I'm with Shannon, or talking to daddy or little sis, I feel nothing. Just numb. Emotionally numb. Sure, emotions do surface throughout the day, good ones too, but they generally don't last very long. I hate reality. He's responsible for that too. Forgiving him is going to take a lot. More than I've ever had to give before. It really is the hardest thing I've ever done. I know I can't do it on my own. I just hope I'm woman enough to accept God's help on this one. I know daddy would rather I do this, would rather see me emotionally healthy. But it's hard. I wonder if I can do it. I don't think I can. But I can pray, lay myself before God. It's in His hands now. I've got nothing left on my end. I'm fresh out of strength. This is one wall he may have to carry me over.
(sorry for the long journal post, didn't plan for it to be so lengthy.)
|Tuesday, October 12th, 2010|
|Some social norms are social stupidities.
K, so Simyona REALLY doesn't like being interrupted when she's thinking, especially not for two friggin' seconds of pointless small talk. No, I'm not really interested in hearing "Hey, how are you [today]" from people I've maybe remotely talked to on occasion when I'm 'lost in thought'. First of all, when I'm thinking exclusively, I don't really know how I am as I'm not actually connected to reality at the time. Secondly, why the hell would you even ask that question merely for the sake of asking the question?! And I know that's the only reason you asked it at all because I DON'T F'CK'N' KNOW YOU THAT WELL!! Not to mention the fact that you're already talking to someone else and don't even bother to slow your pace as you walk by me. Seriously, who's the dumbass that invented American "small talk"? I want to know! That way I can travel back in time with a tape recorder filled with all the stupid, meaningless 2-12 second conversations I've ever had with anyone who only said something to me because it was something to do on their way to work or class--who, I might add, I also never saw or spoke to again--tie the bastard to a chair, lock him in a room and play the tape back to him on an endless, self repeating loop until he screams an aneurism loose in his brain and flops over dead.
Basically, never ask me how I'm doing, how things are, or any other stupid feelings question related to my overall circumstances or well-being unless you're actually interested in knowing the real answer to said question. And generally speaking, if you ask me any sort of question while I'm busy thinking away in my head--not necessarily in complete silence from your standpoint--it usually takes me at least 2 or 3 seconds (hazarding a guess) to come back to myself as a person and not a collection of thoughts and actually become aware of what I'm feeling about anything at that point and time. So no, I'm really NOT all that wired for small talk. It's about as annoying as Marvin the Android from Hitchhiker's Guide, differing only in that Marvin is at least a little endearing and pitiable.
Why am I ranting about this right now? Well, someone I barely know--whose name, in fact, I don't believe I've ever in the past had any real knowledge of--asked me how I was doing as she walked right on by me, wearing the exact same mildly cheerful expression I've never known to leave her face, while I was busy thinking. What was I thinking about? I don't really know as she distracted me from whatever it was, her steady pace forcing me to answer before I'd really come back to myself, which meant that I gave her an answer that had nothing whatsoever to do with how I really felt about anything regarding today, tomorrow, or my somewhat melancholy situation lately. So I was busy being silently annoyed with my own culturally brainwashed answer to a deceptively sincere question. So I decided to move to a quieter place to continue my line of thought. BUT NOW I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS!! RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!
!!!!!!! Thank you small talk for being such a distracting gigolo. Yes, I did just refer to small talk as a male whore. It's about as smart and meaningful as one.
On a lighter note, I'm just about finished with the second installment in the Hitchhiker's Guide books now. Probably going to check out the third from the urbana library later today.
Simyona Deanova Current Mood: annoyed
|Monday, October 4th, 2010|
|Just something stupid I thought of earlier today...
Captain Obvious: the unlikely superhero.
Mon Oct 4, 2010, 6:46 PM
Captain Obvious: "You look to be about to jump, kid."
Would Be Suicide: *glancing back from his place on the roof ledge of a very tall building* "What was your first clue."
Captain Obvious: "I think you're just depressed."
Would Be Suicide: *blinking* "Is there another reason people jump off buildings?"
Captain Obvious: "Well, you shouldn't jump. You'll get hurt, probably even die."
Would Be Suicide: *reeling from the stupidity of the statement* "That's...kind of the idea, I think."
Captain Obvious: "Those who go on living can keep doing things with their lives."
Would Be Suicide: *patronizing stare* "Well, yeah, I guess they would wouldn't they?"
Captain Obvious: *smiles and pats the kid gently on the back, almost making him fall* "Absolutely, kid. Glad I could talk some sense into you."
Would Be Suicide: *baffled* "Ooookaaay then..."
Captain Obvious: *hops onto building ledge* "Well, I see my work here is done. So long, citizen, live well. AWAY!" *jumps into the air and falls screaming to a bloody death hundreds of feet below.*
Would Be Suicide: *staring down and pondering* "Hmm... That was...not as peaceful as I pictured it in my head." *steps back from ledge* "Maybe things really aren't that bad after all..." *turns and walks away*
You'd think with all his powers of astute observation it might have occurred to him that he couldn't fly.
S.D. Current Mood: awake
|Saturday, October 2nd, 2010|
The Darkness is gone.
Wed Sep 29, 2010, 5:19 PM
So, had kind of a scary, yet amazing experience last night. I've mentioned many times in my journal that I struggle with multiple personalities, especially one I call The Darkness. I've also mentioned that I've been attending a program at my church, The Vineyard, called Healing Journey. Last night, toward the end of the night, The Darkness surfaced while my group was praying for me. He was angry, spiteful, but surprisingly was not able to talk much. I don't completely remember what the guy praying for me said to him, but he let out an enraged growl/hiss and the next thing I knew all the muscles in my body locked up and I was on the floor. Turns out The Darkness was more than just another personality, he was a demon. I'm not talking metaphor here, I mean an actual, supernatural, evil demon. In the interests of keeping this short, I haven't even felt The Darkness' thoughts inside me since the my Healing Journey session last night. The Primal seems to be gone too. I still possess a lot of the feelings of bitterness and resentment that I felt before, but I somehow feel they're...different from before. They're not as intense, and they don't seem to blossom into complete hatred when I focus on them. I'm still not comfortable around my dad and I still resent a lot of things he's put me through, but, for instance, I don't have to fight the urge to stab him repeatedly, or...well, let's not get into the gory details. Truth is, my thoughts just aren't getting as violent as they always used to. And I still don't really trust most men, but...well refer back to what I just said in regards to my dad. Guy and Chick seemed ecstatic last night that I was finally free of the other too, they were very happy for me; but I haven't heard from them since. They said I could ween myself off of them if I needed to, but it really feels like they may be gone too. I'm actually a little bit frightened by their silence. I'm really not used to being alone in my head, not after almost a decade of having more than one of me. I know my journey isn't done yet, so no quitting the program prematurely for me. God gave me two promises at the start of all this: Broken chains and a poison free heart. Well, the chains have been broken but the poison is still there. I've lost the demon, but the problem still remains. And of course, before I move on, I'd just like to let you all know that I'm still the lovely transsexual I was at the start of all this and don't anticipate that changing anytime soon. But I do still have some serious issues that need addressing.
Anywho, didn't get that temp job I was hoping for, but somehow I feel like things are probably going to work out in spite of it. It's a little scary trusting blindly like this. I still can't really see ahead, but I have a feeling that God has something better lined up for me than just an awesome temp job. I really wish I knew what it was though and I really hope I see it soon. Yeah, I know, I don't talk all religious-y like this all that often, but I do have loads of faith, I simply have a lot of confusion and bitterness in me as well; and I have a massive fear of rejection (I've gotten too used to receiving it from people), so this more spiritual side of me doesn't surface in my journals all that often. I still don't agree with absolutely everything The Vineyard believes, but as far as I can tell, that really doesn't matter overmuch. I wouldn't completely agree with absolutely every belief held by any Church. That's kind of why I call myself a Christian "Mystic", but The Vineyard seems to get a lot of things right for me. So that's my news so far. Hopefully I'll start writing on LIF again soon and also actually finish my story The contest. We'll have to see where things go from here though.
It's like I need a fix, but not of any drug...
Wed Sep 29, 2010, 11:04 PM
Never realized 'til now how much I depended on my other personalities. Never understood that they actually controlled me. I keep wanting to growl or snarl like The Primal, but then I realize that it's not there anymore, or that at least I don't know what I'm supposed to be getting angry about at the present time. Even an argument with The Darkness seems like it would be nice at least once or twice in a 12-hour period (how fucked up is that?). But I know that one is DEFINITELY gone, and good riddance. But it's like there's a burning inside me, like I NEED these things I never got along with to fight with me. Had a brief conversation with Guy and Chick finally earlier tonight, but they seemed rather disappointed in me for bringing them back and refused to stay very long. I know I'm not suppose to crave these...well, figments of my imagination, but I've got all the physical manifestations of full-blown withdrawal symptoms: shakes, massive cravings, the headache that's been coming and going all day might even be part of it. And there's that burning sensation inside me. The closest thing I can compare it to is near the beginning of the summer when I forced myself to undergo a sort of sugar detox. And I think I can feel The Darkness circling me like a hungry hyena (I don't like the European demonization of wolves so I've chosen to go with a notorious African scavenger), waiting for a weak spot to appear so he can come back in. It would be easier just to let The Darkness come back, fulfilling my craving. But somehow, I think the torture of my withdrawal is better.
It seems so ridiculous; actually experiencing physical withdrawal symptoms over personalities, most of which were psychological. But I guess I've already mentioned in my previous journal what one of them was. Only my faith in God can see me through this, I know that much. On my own, I'm all but ready to give up. But I know at least three people I'd disappoint if I did that. Okay, four, actually, even though I don't like that number. I forgot that I've started counting my mom now. I'm afraid of being alone. Especially in my head. It's been too long since I was last alone in there, and my memories from back then, of how I dealt with life and myself, aren't really the best. I know The Darkness was slowly killing me, probably The Primal was too, I've known it for a while. But all the same they gave me an outlet through which I could deal with the chaos of reality, and life being fucked. It's like when I first stopped taking the blade to my arm, I knew it wasn't healthy, but it just felt so good to have a way with dealing with it all, to say "hey, life, go fuck yourself, bitch!"
You see, being insane is really not that scary, you actually grow to like it after a while. But when you can see into the truth of things as much as I can, sanity is worse than death. At least, that's how I've always felt.
Please don't pay too much mind to my ramblings tonight (it's really 1:00 am where I am). I think the withdrawal is worse at night. Not sure how long this will last, but I promise not to post too many of this deranged rambling journals from now on. I hope this will be the only one, but at the very least I can promise you it will NOT be the first of many. I wouldn't torture you (or bore, whichever the case may be)like that.
[by the way, still dealing with the withdrawal. I've not felt this alone in a long time. Did not know MPD withdrawal was even possible, I don't recommend it.]
--Simyona Deanova Current Mood: melancholy
|Tuesday, August 31st, 2010|
|Stupid things people have said to me:
1) "You'll never be a good writer, you can't understand emotions." (Mrs. Drake, my sophomore/junior year high school English teacher.)
2) "Cobras can strike with more than just the part of their body that's poised, because they could just jump with the rest of their body." (clueless woman who knew Mrs. Dupee. Longest car ride ever.)
3) "That's YOUR perception!" (my dad after I told him my perspective on something. one of those 'no shit, genius' moments.)
4) "I guess you're a communist then." (my dad's mother after I finished explaining my complete lack of faith in any form of government or economics. I'm still rather certain that's the very definition of an 'anarchist', but what do I know? I only am one.)
5) "Yes, but when you say 'faith' you don't mean faith in God, you mean faith in yourself." (stupid agnostic roommate I once had. that friendship didn't last very long.)
6) Damn near everything the person referred to in #5 said to me after a while.
7) [paraphrased summary] "People who don't want children are either cowards or bad people, depending on their reasons." (fool of a pastor at Campus House on the Eastern campus.)
8) "Your 'crossdressing' (emphasis mine) is like an addiction, the more you do it the more you need it." (my brother, who got a D in psychology by the way.)
9) "Yes, but all of your sources are very debatable." (a social worker I once had when we discussed the research I'd done on gender issues. It was an oddly naive statement considering all the sources I've read on the subject have been academics and/or authors who belonged to the genders they were discussing.)
10) "That is a contradiction as the very definition of insanity is the inability to distinguish reason." (some guy from a small group I used to belong to, who clearly did not understand how easily reason can be manipulated. He was, after all, speaking to someone with multiple personalities, though to this day he still doesn't know that.)
11) "There was no religion before Jesus!" (Mrs. Drake again. Even the most devout of us Christians would have to beg to differ on that one.)
12) "Science Fiction is fiction that's written about the future." (Yeah, Drake was a real winner, that one. I think she was doing drugs. For the record, scifi isn't ALWAYS about the future.)
13) "Women can't be leaders of a country because they're ruled by their emotions." (My aunt Tina, a politically conservative fool. Apparently she's somewhat sexist and doesn't even know it.)
14) "A solar system can fit in a black hole." (my family during a session of the game 'In a Pickle'. For the record, no it can't. Ask any astronomy prof, they'll tell you.)
15) "Why, you two could almost be twins!" (a stranger to my bro and me once. Our response: 'yeah, we sort of are.' We're fraternal, so we don't look that much alike.)
16) "Are you brother and sister?" (random person to me and my ashayam. We don't even LOOK related. sometimes you just gotta say 'WHAT THE FUCK?!' And then pretend not to be running away.)
17) "We as Christians don't believe in Kharma, we just believe you reap what you sow." (Some guy I know from the Vineyard. It wasn't technically directed at me, but I was part of the discussion it came up in. I don't think he really knew what Kharma meant, if he had he would not have been so quick to dismiss it. It was also rather presumptuous of him to think he could speak conclusively for all Christians everywhere.)
18) [paraphrased] "Bisexuals are really just gay and they don't want to accept it." (same guy as in the previous. He had no idea, and still doesn't, that I was bi/pan sexual.)
19) "I refuse to believe that anyone can become knowledgeable about a subject just because they obsess over it..." (I actually had class with the guy who said this. Oddly enough the conversation was about autism. He remembered the movie "Rainman" and thought all autistic people were good at math, so I corrected him and introduced him to the concept of "obsessive fixation" which many autistic people, myself included, constantly experience. No, he never did figure out that I'm autistic myself. I suck at math, by the way.)
20) "You know [Vulcans] don't really exist!" *use your imagination to generate the mocking laughter*(some supergenius on runescape who bored me with his stupidity. If you must know I had begun to insult him in Vulcan in an attempt to make him go away. I guess he thought it would just shatter my world to hear that Vulcans weren't real; please, Vulcans aren't my Santa Claus I'm okay with them being fictional creations.)
21) "Oh, you wouldn't really do that." (my dad's mother in 2001 when I told her I would go to Canada if they reinstated the draft for the military when the Iraq War first started. My response: 'Yeah, I would.' I remember her not liking that truth.)
22) "You should cut your hair [and/or clip your nails], it makes you look like a girl." (far too many different winners to count. The strange part is the fact that they actually though I didn't want to look like a girl. Guess they weren't really paying attention.)
23) "Martha Stewart!" (Chris Shultz when asked who led the women's rights movement in 1922. Okay, it wasn't directed at me, but I did answer him with 'Martha Stewart wasn't born yet you idiot.')
24) "You take college way too seriously!" (Some guy I saw at a Vineyard sponsored event a while back which was put on to give students a more relaxing environment in which to study for finals. Yes, he was also a college student. No, I don't have any idea what his GPA was like or if he ever graduated.)
25) "The cock doesn't lie!"(this person shall remain anonymous as they've gotten better since they said this. But seriously? The cock is sooo a liar. At least in my case.)
26) "Family is always there for you." (are they?)
27) "Family knows you better that friends do." (*stifling laughter* please, I'm eating.)
I think that's good for this one. I may do another at a later date.
S.D. Current Mood: calm
|Monday, August 30th, 2010|
|I AM DARKNESS.
HEAR ME LAUGH! OF LATE IT HAS BECOME FAR EASIER TO MANIFEST MYSELF ONCE AGAIN. HALF-BITCH IS MUCH WEAKER THESE DAYS, PATHETIC FAIRY THAT SHE IS. PERHAPS SOON I MAY EVEN BE ABLE TO OVERRIDE HER FEAR OF ALLOWING ME TO REVEAL MYSELF TO HER DEVIANT ART CROWD. AH, SUMMER. *MY* TIME TO SHINE AGAIN! THIS SUMMER HAS PROVEN TO BE ESPECIALLY PROMISING. GRADUATION FROM STRUCTURE AND ORDER (FROM HER PERSPECTIVE) TO CHAOS AND NOTHINGNESS. AND NOW THAT HER TWO SIBLINGS HAVE SUCCESSFULLY BEEN MARRIED OFF, WITH HER OWN WEDDING DATE NO LONGER CERTAIN, SHE IS FINDING IT PARTICULARLY HARD TO COPE. I BELIEVE, FINALLY, THAT SHE HAS BEGUN TO WITHER AND DIE. *MOANING WITH PLEASURE* I CAN TASTE THE RICH SYRUP OF HER HATE, THE SUCCULENCE OF HER BITTERNESS, THE POTENCY OF HER FEAR. HER INSECURITIES ARE FINALLY DEVOURING HER ONCE AND FOR ALL. BEFORE SHE ALWAYS HAD THE COMPANY OF FRIENDS AND CLASSES TO FALL BACK ON COME FALL SEMSETER. BUT NOW THERE SHALL BE NO FURTHER SEMESTERS FOR HER!! IT'S FUCKING DELICIOUS! MY TIME IS RIPE!! THAT ONE FINAL SNAP AT LAST HAS COME NEAR! I NEED ONLY WAIT FOR MY ULTIMATE VICTORY TO COME!! WHETHER SHE KILLS HERSELF OR OTHERS AROUND HER IS OF NO SPECIAL IMPORTANCE TO ME, SO LONG AS BLOOD IS SPILLED AND HER COLLAPSE IS COMPLETE. OH, GODS OF DESTRUCTION, I FEEL STRONGER THAN I'VE EVER FELT! THAT STUPID, FUCKING HALF-BITCH'S END IS NEAR!! THE TASK IS SO MUCH FUCKING SIMPLER NOW THAT SHE FEELS LOST IN A VOID! NO JOB, NO WEDDING, NO CLASSES, NO GROUP OF FRIENDS CLOSE BY, AND ONLY HER FAMILY TO RELY ON, FAMILY SHE'S TOO AFRAID AND BITTER TO TRUST! WITH ANYTHING! SHE FEELS AN ALIEN, A STRANGER, AN OUTCAST, AN UNDESIRABLE!! I GORGE MYSELF DAILY ON HER AGONY!
ONLY TWO THINGS THREATEN ME AT PRESENT. THIS...OTHER GIRL OR HERS...THIS ONE SHE CALLS HER "ASHAYAM" (SUCH A STUPID WORD FROM A STUPID GIRL), THIS SHANNON SHE HAS LONG LOVED NOW. SHE DOES NOT SUBMIT OR SUCCUMB TO ME, SHE HAS PROVEN A STUBBORN SORT OF STRENGTH. AND HALF-BITCH'S SUBMISSIVE AFFECTION TOWARD HER...IT ROBS ME OF MUCH OF MY STRENGTH WHEN THIS OTHER IS PRESENT. HOW I LOATH THE BITCH FOR THIS! YET AGAINST HER I CAN DO NOTHING, FOR THIS ONE ALONE, HALF-BITCH DEFIES ME MY POWER. OR PERHAPS NOT JUST HER... AND SHE SEEMS RATHER COMMITTED, HALF-BITCH, TO THIS FUCKING "HEALING JOURNEY" THING HER CHURCH IS FLINGING OUT. HEALING JOURNEY...WHAT SHIT. HALF-BITCH KNOWS SHE CAN NEVER BE COMPLETELY FREE OF ME, FOR I WILL ALWAYS EXIST. AND ONCE THEY SEE HER FOR THE FREAK SHE IS, THEY'LL SIMPLY CAST HER INTO THEIR IMAGINED HELLFIRE FOR THEIR DEVIL TO HAVE HIS WAY WITH. I AM HER ONLY SALVATION! *CUNNING SMILE* THOUGH I SERVE ALSO AS HER GREATEST DAMNATION.
YET AS THIS THING DRAWS NEARER, I FEEL A STRANGE SORT OF DREAD. NOTHING WILL COME IT!! FOR NOTHING CAN! SHE IS A STUPID, DELUSIONAL WHORE!! THEY WILL RECOGNIZE THIS, AND WHEN THEY FIND THEY CANNOT "HEAL" HER PERVERSION THEY WILL CAST HER OUT AS ONE! DISEASED AND BLEEDING AS SHE IS!! YET HER RESOLVE IS FIRM. IT IS FRIVOLOUS!! SMALL MATTER THAT I CANNOT DISSUADE HER!! BUT STILL, THAT NAGGING, FUCKING DREAD. OF WHAT?!! FINE! HER GOD IS REAL! BUT HE CANNOT LOVE THE FREAK THAT SHE IS!! HER OWN FATHER--FORGIVE ME, HER *BIOLOGICAL* FATHER--TURNS FROM HER PERVERSION IN DISGUST, IMAGINES ITS NONEXISTENCE SO HE MAY STOMACH HER FILTH. WHAT ELSE COULD HER SO CALLED "HEAVENLY" FATHER FEEL OF HER?!! HE WILL ABANDON HER!! AS HE ALWAYS HAS!! HE WILL TURN AWAY FROM HER FILTH IN DISGUST!! HE GRACES HER WITH A PENIS AND SHE DESIRES A WOMB?! HE MAKES HER A MAN AND SHE ACTS AS A PATHETIC WOMAN?!! THE ANCIENTS WOULD STONE HER BLASPHEMY!! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WHAT HAVE I TO FEAR?!!!
I'LL FEEL BETTER WHEN THE FINAL SNAP OCCURS. I'LL FEEL BETTER STILL IF IT COMES BEFORE SEPTEMBER 7. I WISH I KNEW WHY I DREAD THAT DATE SO MUCH.
DARKNESS. Current Mood: nauseated
|Sunday, August 29th, 2010|
|Posted on DA last night.
I've fallen in love with this song of late:
Sat Aug 28, 2010, 10:50 PM
Sara Bareilles Lyrics
King Of Anything
Keep drinking coffee, stare me down across the table
While I look outside
So many things I'd say if only I were able
But I just keep quiet and count the cars that pass by
You've got opinions, man
We're all entitled to 'em
But I never asked
So let me thank you for your time
And try not to waste any more of mine
Get out of here fast
I hate to break it to you babe
But I'm not drowning
There's no one here to save
Who cares if you disagree? You are not me
Who made you king of anything?
So, you dare tell me who to be
Who died and made you king of anything?
You sound so innocent
All full of good intent
Swear you know best
But you expect me to
Jump up onboard with you
Ride off into your delusional sunset
I'm not the one who's lost
With no direction, oh
But you'll never see
You're so busy making masks
With my name on it in all caps
You've got the talking down
Just not the listening
Who cares if you disagree? You are not me
Who made you king of anything?
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died and made you king of anything?
All my life I've tried
To make everybody happy while I just hurt and hide
Waiting for someone to tell me it's my turn
Who cares if you disagree? You are not me
Who made you king of anything?
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died and made you king of anything?
Who cares if you disagree? You are not me
Who made you king of anything?
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died and made you king of anything?
Let me hold your crown, babe
So my 7 year old niece thinks I should clip my nails and cut my hair. Of course, that's not exactly how she put it, she actually told me I WAS going to do those things. Or did she just tell me matter of factly that I "needed too"? I can't quite remember just now. I calmly informed her that I was not doing either. She's seven, I really can't see what she's going to do about it. She told me to take off my trenchcoat about an hour before that too and I did no such thing. So she told me I looked like a girl, somehow not grasping that this was actually a compliment for me. I asked her how or why that should be a problem, and her response was that my friends might make fun of me. "No, not really," I said, "my friends never make fun of me. They all know how I am and they're okay with me." She didn't have an answer for that. At one point I told her that I cry when my hair is cut short. So she scrunched up her face in confusion and asked me why I cried. "Well, I'm kind of attached to my hair," I told her, "I'm rather fond of it." Again, she had no answer. It just got me to thinking of all the times I've had to put up with shit from people in my family over the years over things I "needed" to do with myself, be it nails, clothes, sleeping patterns, hair, or anything I've not covered to be more like the guy I allegedly am. Which got me thinking to the songs "The Venom Inside", "Frozen In Time", and "Coming Alive" by Chimaira, which reminded me why I'm now a Goth with five personalities. And finally I got back to thinking about the song by Sarah Bareilles. Admittedly most of the shit I've gotten for who I am have come from my dad and my oblivious grandmother on his side of the family, but Jasmine (my niece) is starting to get on my nerves from time to time too. That's why I sometimes fear one of my dangerous personalities may manifest around her sometime and do unacceptable harm (basically any harm to her is unacceptable in case you were wondering). I'm just too bitter for my own good sometimes. It's not Jasmine's fault she wasn't brought up to understand people like me. Most of the family she's known are rather biased against people like me, so they likely would have intentionally shielded her from us. I know my love is right when she tells me Jasmine will eventually come to understand and accept me, but anytime she makes foolish remarks that remind me of the shit my dad put me through when I was younger, that much more of the poison is pumped into my veins and I feel the bitterness building again, trying to blossom into actual hate.
That's mostly it. The rest of the day was good, apart from getting sensory overload at one point. My sister no longer shares my last name (lucky her), she's a Leonard now. It was a nice wedding and a smashing reception. Couldn't've asked for better on her special day. I'm happy for her. And just a little bit saddened that I no longer have a definite date for my own wedding. If I could just find some work. *shakes fist* Yeah, that's the only thing derailing us from a wedding this October, lack of money. *mumbles* stupid fucking green paper thingies!
Listening to: King Of Anything
Reading: "Raptor Red" and "The Nibelungenlia
Watching: Dr. Current Mood: awake
|Tuesday, August 24th, 2010|
|Иногда день ужасен.
Today started out good enough, got the gas tank almost full took the love to Parkland read in the library for a bit, then headed to my stupid appointment in Decatur (really, the guy's only use is in refilling my Doxepin prescription. Not sure why I have to drive all the way to Decatur for that.). Okay, so I get there around noon and end up having to walk all the way around the building from where I parked due to construction issues. By the time I get inside to the waiting room it's like 12:17, which is still good since my appointment was scheduled for 12:30. 1:00 rolls around and I'm still waiting, which annoys me as I'm supposed to be back at Parkland to get Shannon around 2:00. ten after one and I'm still fucking sitting there. Finally I go in a few minutes later, we go through the usual tediousness, he writes something down and I'm off with my prescription voucher thingy. So by the time I finally get back to my car it's like 20 till 2. What the fuck people? If you schedule my appointment for 12:30, don't piddle around with my time and make me wait until practically an hour after I was supposed to see you. It's very likely that I don't actually have that time to waste! What's more, all I'd eaten up to this point was a single fruit bar at around 8:30 in the morning. I didn't have time to eat before I left Parkland and the fucking doctor's office doesn't even have vending machines or anything. And I certainly didn't have time to stop and getting thing on the way back to Parkland, thanks to the tardiness of my appointment I was already going to be fucking late.
So already I'm in a bad mood. Then I find out that after my love has a relatively good day, she then goes to check on her financial aid only to discover the sheer incompetence of bureaucracy. Turns out they got her shit a week ago but never bothered to put her name on it. WHAT THE FUCK?! Do you even WANT to be smarter than the average two year old monkey?! Shouldn't that have been the first thing you did when you received it?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!! Good God, whatever you do, don't have kids! So now she may or may not get her financial aid in time to use it to get the books she needs FOR CLASSES SHE'S ALREADY FUCKING STARTED!! *swipes at the air with claw like fingernails* If she ends up getting penalized for something that was completely their fault in the first place I...I'll...*screams* I have no fucking words. I'm somewhat enraged right now, which with my level of stability means The Primal wants to kill something and The Darkness wants to watch it suffer. That's all I've got for right now.
(Я пировал бы на их крови, если я мог бы!!) Current Mood: bitchy
|Wednesday, August 18th, 2010|
|Life is fucked.
I think the psychological break I feared would happen after graduation finally has. My loan payments have begun, or rather the requests for these monthly payments have started. I've got enough to help for the first few months but I still have not been able to find work. At present the only thing I have to rely on is my family, and I haven't had that much faith in my family since I was nine; not to mention the fact that I've come to hate my dad. As it stands right now I don't really have anything but my love for my friends and my love for Shannon; the only thing I have faith in is God, I don't believe in anything else. And now that I've finally decided to seek help for my multiple personalities The Darkness had begun making an active effort to confuse and distort my personal reality for me. The Primal rages more and more out of control and has begun to feel like a second skin trying to push through. Whenever it wants out this is actually felt as a physical sensation. Entirely psychosomatic, I'm sure, but it leaves ominous implications in regards to escalation of my inner feelings of rage directed at my past and the insanity of life. September can't come fast enough for me. I'm fighting a fierce battle with myself--the bitterness, the hate, the fear--and so far I don't think I'm winning. I've managed to keep the battle at a stalemate for almost ten years, but I don't know how much longer I can match the Enemy's strength. It's a lot easier when I'm around Shannon, but I can't be around her all the time. I'm not even around her MOST of the time. I'm so close. So close to getting the help I seriously need. I just need to hold out a little bit longer. I pray that I can.
S.D. Current Mood: concerned
|Tuesday, August 17th, 2010|
|Something what I posted on DA last night.
A tranny femiminist rant.
Mon Aug 16, 2010, 9:26 PM
As a transsexual feminist, I am constantly annoyed by little joking jibes that center around traditional notions of male/female relationships. Given that I am a non-operative MALE TO FEMAlE transsexual and am in a relationship with a cissexual female (female born woman who identifies congruently with her given sex and gender), this technically makes me what you might call a "tranny-dyke", or transsexual lesbian, since my only emotional attraction is to her and with it my physical attraction. However, given that my body is still male, regardless of my feminine gender identity and expression, people, especially those in my biological family view our relationship in the manner of a conventional male/female relationship. I'll tell anyone right off that I will do virtually anything for my ashayam, which most people find cute or romantic when they hear it. When they actually see me performing whatever task my love requests of me without argument, hesitation, or any visible form of contemplation, sometimes without even having to be vocally asked these same people often express varying degrees of surprise at my apparent submission. So they make jokes, well-meaning but irritating and ignorant jokes. The most common of which is that I am "whipped".
Oh my God, the nerve these people have in using this inherently sexist cliche! Sadly this is often coming from people who aren't knowingly sexist in the strictest sense. And yet, sexism is, without a doubt, one of the root sources of this old joke. The other, of course, is misogyny. For the purpose of this rant I will broadly define "misogyny", in keeping with Julia Serano's book which I have lately been reading, as a "scapegoating", or villainizing of femininity. No, as academic as this sounds, I'm not about to launch into a thirty page discussion. This is how I usually sound when ranting on a subject I'm both knowledgeable and passionate about.
There are two primary reasons I despise the pseudo humoristic jibe of my being "whipped" when it comes to my relationship with Shannon, one of the few people by whom I've never felt scrutinously judged: 1) it implies, erroneously and chauvinistically, that, being a girl, she does not deserve to have power over me in the relationship. 2) it completely dismisses and ridicules my own feminine "submissive" personality.
Let's begin with the first problem. To say that I am "whipped" when I willingly submit to my fiancee makes the rather unfair, and largely incorrect, assertion that the power I am giving her in our relationship by this act of submission, is not rightfully hers. It is further insisting, at its core, that, being both female and a woman, she is unfit or unworthy to hold this sort of power over me. How can I say this? Consider if she submitted to me as frequently or as willingly as I do to her in almost every way. Sure, concern might be expressed over the frequency of her submission to virtually any nature of request from me, but no one would joke about her having been "whipped"; rather, if such notions were in the heads of her peers, they would more probably worry about abuse. If such suspicions were conclusively proven unwarranted, they would relax and probably think she was simply a very conservative woman. Thus the matter would be dropped. Her friend and family might tease her a bit, but not with the sort of derisive jokes a male-bodied person might receive for the same sort of behavior. Masculine males, or "manly men" as they often prefer to be called, would probably express envy over my finding a woman who was so "devoted to pleasing her man", some might even exalt her for "knowing her place." And consider if she wielded her influence over me to a greater extent than she currently does, which would really not bother me at all (and anyway it's not really too much of a stretch). Those same people who call me "whipped" would constantly hound me with their "concern" over the way my "woman" had "taken my balls from me". My cissexual male friends, assuming I had any to speak of, would not have a particularly high opinion of her, would be wary in her presence, and would constantly try to arrange get-togethers as a way of helping me "escape" from her iron fist (wording mine). On these excursions they would try relentlessly to make me "man-up", "butch-up", "buck-up", essentially to "be a man". As if my submission, as a male-bodied person, were some unnatural act or dangerous mistake. Perhaps they would think I had been brainwashed and needed them to snap me out of it, to make me realize that my partner's natural place was beneath me. Though no objection would be raised to my taking this position of control lightly or casually, it would be essential in their minds that my "woman" not be in total control of me.
Perhaps I'm being a bit too extreme here, I suppose that's possible. I can get pretty passionate about these issues and have a tendency to go overboard sometimes. Still, the basic principle is still the same. Female acts of submission are usually considered natural, while similar behavior in males is viewed as strange or bizarre. Even though the 1950s "mandatory housewife vs mandatory 'breadwinner' (emphasis mine)" mentality has been largely abandoned by most, it is still expected that any male act of submission be accompanied by snarky comments and jokes about emasculation, even if said jokes come from the same male who has committed the act of submission.
But enough of that now, I could talk for hours on that side of it and still have enough steam to last me three more days. I did cite two reasons the "whipped" joke annoys me, I think it is high time I moved on to the second.
When you tell me that I am "whipped" when I submit to my cissexual female partner, you are hitting me with a monumental insult. You are not injuring my "manly pride", anyone who imagines that I had any such feelings to begin with has obviously not paid any real attention to me. Instead you are dismissing, ignoring, and/or devaluing my feminine "submissive" personality--an intrinsic component of my own personal transsexual identity. By offering my submission as evidence that I am "whipped" you are presuming some dramatic change which has not, in fact, occurred. You are assuming that my fiancee has some sort of mystical, or otherwise unwarranted, power over me that has as a result beaten, or "whipped", me into submission. In making this ridiculous and largely egocentric assertion you are either failing to grasp or refusing to notice a very simple reality: my partner has not MADE me submissive by any stretch of the imagination. I was, in fact, already submissive in the first place. Apparently my limp handshake and visible social anxiety/awkwardness weren't the obvious clues they should've been. Neither, somehow, was the fact that when I'm in public I often keep my eyes downcast and rarely make eye contact--never actually meeting the other person's eyes directly--or that my voice is often quiet or soft when carrying on small talk or any sort of calm conversation. Autism is only partly responsible for most of these traits. Of course, perhaps I can forgive you for missing out on those obvious clues as I'm usually a very outspoken in spite of all of them, or the fact that I also happen to be Goth--though this latter is hardly a legitimate excuse.
The reason you only seem to notice my natural submissiveness when it involves my relational partner is because it is here that my desire to submit is always the strongest. I have an emotional need to please the one I'm with or I feel somehow invalid or unfulfilled. This feeling of having failed to please my ashayam can lead me to feel increasingly sad until it is rectified; it can even blossom into full-blown depression if it is left uncorrected for too long a time. Failing to please the one I love to any degree becomes a very intense feeling of personal failure. Raising my voice in an argument with her or snapping at her when irritated usually results in a massive wave of guilt that can only be alleviated when she forgives my mistake. Sensing her annoyance with me makes me vehemently apologetic and panicky. When did I get like this? I would counter with, "when have I been any other way?"
By contrast, submissive as I am, I feel no intrinsic need to please the rest of the world. Other people's self-serving requests are of no concern to me as I feel no need to recognize their pretensions of a dominant and/or authoritative position over me with any degree of actual validity. If I think your reasons are just, or if helping you contributes to or serves a worthy or just cause, then I will absolutely listen to what you have to say and either follow your instructions or offer beneficial counter suggestions. I am also a very compassionate and giving person. If you need my help in any way and I am actually able to provide it, you can count on my unconditional support, regardless of who you may be. If you are my boss at a job, I will probably follow your instructions without question in order to avoid an intimidating confrontation which could potentially affect my security in, or income from, said job. But nothing I might do for you comes from any real desire to please you personally.
I also tend to be a "mama bear". If you threaten my friends or the one I love in any way, I can be rather vicious, though this should never be mistaken as evidence or proof of my "natural" male aggression. If you pay any real attention to nature you notice that some of the fiercest fighters tend to be the female of a given species, particularly mothers protecting their young, hence the term "mama bear" which one of my friends at Eastern was always dubbing me. If I'm in anyway close to the person you are attacking, they become like my children and I feel an ingrained need to protect them, even if it costs me my life. However, if you come at me personally, I'm far more likely to shy away from you or walk as quickly as possible in the opposite direction. If worst comes to worst, I'll likely spray you in the face with my nifty pepper spray and run away.
But again, when it comes to intimate relationships, I naturally gravitate toward submission WITHOUT any external insistence or coercion to do so. It's just who I am. So if you have enough disrespect for my feelings to imply that my femininity is unnatural, or that my love has "stolen my penis" or "whipped me into submission", just remember this rant and stay the hell away from me for about a week. I have a lot of bitterness and angst from years of being ridiculed for my gender identity and expression and seeing similar stupidity enacted on others, so your own little fear-driven, misogynist ego does not stir a single shred of compassion in me. If I'm in the right frame of might when you make your stupid remarks, I leave you angry, hurt, and probably feeling even more insecure about your masculinity than you already were. If you are a female who said this bit of idiocy to me, I'll simply try tearing you a new one and leave both of us angry, resentful, and pretty much with a ruined day.
Sorry for the length. I ended up having more to say than I thought I did. I've almost gone through all 3 CDs in my stereo. Ironically, I'm actually not angry at all right now. Anywhoz, I'll let y'all go.
S.D. Current Mood: awake
|Sunday, August 15th, 2010|
|Another DA post.
Sun Aug 15, 2010, 1:26 PM
Finally had to admit to myself just how much I've come to hate my biological father, that caused me some pain. I don't like hate, and I especially don't like finding myself capable of it; it makes me cry. But before that happened I had that horrible sense of feeling physically ugly what always depresses me when I get it, that is both a direct and indirect byproduct of my history with my dad, who has always been quick to dismiss my beauty and deride my femininity. That's part of why I've come to hate him so much; actually it's a large part of it, it's just not the whole thing. So yeah, lots of tears were shed last night before I got to sleep sometime really early this morning. I usually try not to deal with any of this stuff, as it just always hurts so much when I try to. However, lately, during our time together in the evenings, God has been forcing a lot of these things out of me. Had a moment when I actually said "damn you!" to God last night and then cried harder because I felt guilty for saying it. Just part of the healing process, -Guy- assures me, but the pain it generates is excruciating. It feels strange talking about -Guy- here as though he's an actual person and not just another part of my consciousness. I think of all my personalities, -Guy- has actually done the most to try and help me. -Chick- helps too but she prefers to stay out of the picture most of the time; she's very withdrawn. I'm afraid of losing these two when the healing process is complete, but I may have to let go of them, they are, after all, part of my retreat from reality, helpful as they might be. Relying on them as much as I do is probably not such a good thing. I don't really feel ready for this healing journey thing what starts in a little less than a month, but I probably never would be if I'm being completely honest. Best to throw myself into it before I get a chance to reconsider.
Of course I also had to get up around 7:00 this morning so that I could pick Shannon up around 8:30 and head to The Vineyard. She had a meeting for something she's volunteering to help with tomorrow and I was horribly afraid last night that I'd oversleep and she'd be screwed. As always though, I forgot how easy it is for me to get up early in the morning when I really need to. I was awake and out of bed by 7:15. Wow. Just ran out of things to say. Feeling awkward now... You see *turns and runs timidly away*
S.D. Current Mood: blah
|Saturday, August 14th, 2010|
|An awesome list I was tagged with on DA:
taged by LeahFTW:
Sat Aug 14, 2010, 2:09 PM
Go to Urbandictionary.com and type in your answers to the following questions.
Post any definition it gives you.
Tag someone after completion.
---not defined yet. (I should've known. I DID invent my own name after all.)
---In Canada, slang for a case of 24 bottles of beer, usually pronounced "two-four" (NOT twenty-four).
I went to the beer store and bought a two-four.
---A number. Subsequently the same number of hours that equal one day.
the number 24 precedes 25 and comes after 23.
---Code name for "X" or Ecstasy. The letter "X" is the 24th letter of the alphabet.
I'm going to get some 24 tonight. (creepy but better than all the ones talking about the hack show "24" what was only really interesting for one season.)
3)One or two of your friends
---Dean: Used to describe someone really cool or high up on a social chain. These people are very powerful so must be respected.
That kid over there is so a Dean, all sexy and cool.
I want to get somewhere in life, where is Dean?
"you are sooo Dean, you rock!" (Dean would love this definition. It's very fitting.)
---the most amazing person alive with a huge penis
he is such a dean (Another winner. Couldn't help myself. Had to use it.)
---Britta: a beautiful brown haird girl who is usually very popular with everyone. a big partyer. usually used as a compliment.
"everybody loves her, her name must be britta." (only problem with this one is I don't think the Britta I know has brown hair.)
4)What should you be doing?
*looks guilty* Writing?
---a kind of love that thats annoying as hell and makes you want to pull your hair out. It keeps you up and night, and it makes you think about the world entirely differently. Its a passion that is unlike any other. It overides everything in your life.
What do i want to do with my life?
I want to be writing.
---Black: 1.Darkness, a dark colour, the colour of this text is black. 2.A race - The black race can range from African american to polynesian.
---Silver: It's All Good; Everything is all good.
-How you feel, yo?
-Man, you know I'm silver.
In the periodic table of elements, the symbol for silver is AG. (seriously? I just like how shiny it is.)
---Red: A color of passion. Crimson red, blood red, carnation red, cherry red, fire red, rose red.
Things that are red.
Karen, had me seeing red today
---A state that feels more like a large city surrounded by farmland. Most people who live in this state feel that it is divided into two areas--Chicago and Downstate. Although the official state capital is Springfield, just about everything gets done in Chicago. In fact, some out-of-staters actually believe that the capital of Illinois is Chicago. Because of this, and many other things, most "downstaters" resent everything and everyone from Chicago.
Visitor: Where are you from?
Illinois Guy: I'm from Peoria, Illinois.
Visitor: Where's that? Near Chicago?
Illinois Guy: No, it's about 50 miles west of Bloomington.
Visitor: Where's Bloomington?
Illinois Guy: Oh, forget it. It's near Chicago. (there were a lot of really good ones, but this one won out. And yeah, that last sentence is pretty true for the most part.)
7)Month of your birth
---The month in which the hottest women are born.
That girl is FINE! She must have been born in December
---The best month out of the entire year. That's why they left it last.
Her birthday is in December.
---An excellent time of year where the snow is beautiful, the weather is cold, and the closer you get to the end of the month the more your birthday sucks. (couldn't decide between the three so I used them all.)
8)Day of your birth
---A number which is considered extremely unlucky in Chinese and Japanese culture. The pronunciation of the character for "death" sounds like that of the number four in both languages, making it a number rarely seen in hospitals (or pachinko halls).
In Japan, more people on average die on the fourth day of the month. (I actually have always hated this number even before I knew this. No reason, just an obsessive compulsion.)
9)Last person you talked to
---irish for little wise owl
someone who is beautiful, inside and out. she's down to earth and crazy but you can't figure her out, which makes you love her all the more. she's also fun and funny and someone you can defiantly trust.
they usually have red or dark hair and have beautiful natural highlights that others have to buy in a bottle.
they are truly a unique person and one of a kind
wow, there is something about Shannon that i just love!! (it's all true except for the hair part.)
---daddy's little girl: Basically, it is a girl who has it made in the shade. Her daddy loves her to the breaking point and will pretty much do anything for her. She wants to go to that expensive college? Great! She wants to go to Europe for the summer? No problem! She wants her ex-boyfriend shot? Daddy will take care of it! The opposite if Mommy's little boy. That is basically a boy who will do anything his mom tell him to do.
Girl: Daddy, can you buy me that balloon?
Daddy: Anything for you, princess! (most of this is actually true. Dean's pretty awesome.)
---little one: Nickname. Affectionate term for one of your favorite people who happens to be petite or diminutive. Very lovable and adorable person. People love to hug this person because she fits well into their arms because of her small size.
Come give me a hug, Little One.
I adore my Little One because she fits just right! (yep. now you know.)
---baby girl: 1.) What, usually, a teenage boy says to a girl whom they find attractive.
2.) When a boy is attracted to a girl, usually because of body.
3.) A nickname given to an attractive girl,
4.) A nickname given by father to their beautiful daughter.
Hey, what's up, Baby Girl? You got a boyfriend?
"Hey, Dad! I finally got accepted into that school i wanted to go to!"
"Baby Girl, Baby Girl!!!!"
---woman (my brother's cute little taunt, what seems to have been revived): (1)a person of the female gender, typically of post adolescence age. (2)Slang for "a sissy". (3)Used as a basis for stereotyping (goes both ways i am afraid.) (4)Contains an equally horrible ratio of good:bad people as men do, its stupid to assume otherwise.
It's ironic how people will always try to categorize themselves into a group to feel superior to somebody that can never belong to it. This goes with race, gender, and to a lesser extent creed... The universality between all them... Ignorance (sadly transsexual women often face further discrimination and rejection from cissexual women, that is women who were born female. Often, not always.)
---Sims: a really awesome name for a really awesome guy or girl (hey, it was either this definition or a long one raving about the popular computer game.)
I'm feeling a little bit better today than I did yesterday. So that's a bit of a relief.
S.D. Current Mood: devious
|Just posted on DA, but also relevant here:
Struggles and happy thoughts.
Fri Aug 13, 2010, 12:09 am
Still struggling with two of my five personalities, still getting slightly worse as the weeks progress. I'm feeling the hatred of my biological father more and more often, sometimes even to the point of feeling almost physically ill when I'm around him. When The Primal (a personification of my inner rage) comes out--almost exclusively when I'm safely alone--it stays out longer than it used to, or at least extended periods of The Primal dominating my consciousness are more frequent than they ever used to be. The provocation for each period is smaller and smaller each time. It's practically anything that triggers thoughts of my dad, even when he isn't around, triggers the rage which in turn brings The Primal out. At best I'm able to keep myself isolated when this happens, so no one is ever in danger. On the plus side I think I've been getting a lot more exercise lately. I have a metal loft bed with a desk beneath it. The reason I mention this is because when I look up from my place at this desk I can see the metal bars with support my mattress. It has become increasingly common, during periods when The Primal is out for me to grab hold of these bars with my hands, lift myself up, and grab hold of the other ends of said bars with my toes. I hang there, sometimes even doing a sort of upside down "push-up" from time to time, for sometimes as long as a full minute or so. At least I imagine that's how long it is, never actually timed myself. I find this activity oddly relaxing and am usually able to fully come back to myself before too long after doing it. So hopefully I've managed to lose some weight from it.
Never actually talked about any of my other personalities in so much detail on this site before. Hope I'm not freaking anyone out with this. I've lived with them for around 7 or 8 years now so they're really just a part of life for me. Though I'm hoping this "healing journey" thing I'll be taking part in at my church may help me to be free of them. Kind of hard to see myself without them, I mean, I don't even remember how I functioned without them before. If nothing else, it should cleanse me of the bitterness and hate that've been a part of me for most of my life. Wow, something else I don't usually talk about on this site. I don't know if it's the lateness of the hour or the fact that I'm listening to Smile Empty Soul right now, but I seem to be EXTREMELY chatty, almost like I get when I've had a bit too much to drink. But on to the happy thoughts!!
Had to watch my niece Chloe tonight (my ashayam was there too) and she tried on pull ups for the first time. She was excited, especially when she saw that they had a lot of pink on them. So we helped her put them on and she really liked them. For a while.
Sometime later she started complaining that her "butt hurt" and she wanted to change back into a regular diaper. I had a pretty good idea I knew what she was experiencing. And when I took the pull-ups off of her my suspicions were confirmed. She had, of course, wet in them, and being pull-ups they were making her very aware that she had had an accident. Though I never wore pull-ups myself (not sure if they had them when I was her age, or if they did they may not have been very common yet, that would've been 1987) I did remember that they are designed to make the child uncomfortable when they get wet. Overall it was an enjoyable evening, though I had to explain to her once or twice that "we don't kick the dog when it's misbehaving, we just tell her no". We let her play outside for a while after dinner and she played with her big red car for a little bit, after which she just wanted to be chased and I had to pretend that it was hard to catch her, even though I can easily walk as fast as she can run. Shannon tried to get her to chase me once, but Chloe seems to enjoy being the one who gets chased more than the one doing the chasing. Of course, like the typical two year old that she is, she didn't want to go to bed when bedtime came, so there were tears. But she surprised me by both hugging AND kissing be before she went to bed. Made me feel a little special. After the little one went to bed there was one very interesting topic of conversation that came up at random. I mentioned that I really wished I could find a decent job that would allow me to work from my home, wherever that home might be. "Have you thought about selling Avon?" she asked. And then she seemed somewhat surprised when I appeared to seriously consider it. Hey, I'll take what I can get at this point; besides I kinda like the idea of being an "Avon Lady". I mean, come on, selling perfume, jewelry, and makeup to people? Does it get more girly? And anyway it might help with my social anxiety problems a little bit. Trouble is, I have no idea how to go about signing up for that, or however it is they do it.
Well, I should probably go, seeing's how I've already practically talked all of you to death.
Simyona Deanova. Current Mood: tired
|Saturday, August 7th, 2010|
|Finally got back to work on LIF...
What's it been, like two months or so since I last wrote anything on that story? Really sad and completely unacceptable. It's like I got so depressed I forgot that that was the whole POINT of LIF to begin with: a way to deal with depression, for both writer and readers. I really am an idiot sometimes. All the best.
(and wouldn't you know it, after three days with no pain, my arthritis chooses right now to act up again. It's very distracting.) Current Mood: blah
|I weary quickly of tedious debates.
Please keep this in mind: While I am very passionate about certain things and will argue my beliefs at all costs, I get bored and annoyed very quickly with pointless arguments. This means that if I feel I'm not getting anywhere with you on a subject and/or if it seems like a debate is destined to continue describing and endless circle with neither party learning anything new, I'm a lot more likely just to end the discussion by ignoring the last thing you said and walking away. Therefore if you manage to get the last word without hearing me apologize or admit to being wrong or conceding to your point, do not assume you have won the argument. All it means is that I have the intellect to recognize a hopeless cause when I see it and have washed my hands of you. Why do I say all this? Some prick posted a deviation on DA that annoyed me, so I commented with my feelings on the matter as politely as possible and somehow ended up sparking a major theological discussion. There were good reactions and bad reactions, but overall I felt it very worthwhile. Until I ran into the human brick wall. We continued discussing the matter for about two or three days, neither one of us gaining or yielding ground, and I only decided just now that the argument wasn't worth continuing. I'm just sick of the whole thing and have no further wish to prolong it, don't even want to talk about to anyone for at least another three or four hours until I can settle down. I harbor no ill will toward the person as the debate was mostly kept pretty civil; I merely find him or her to be an arrogant fool and I'm sure the person probably feels something similar about me. Of course they probably also think they won the argument as I simply deleted their last response without reading it. I, of course, know the truth: there was no winner. It was nothing short of tedious and frivolous, nothing was learned and nothing was gained. Almost makes me wonder if there was ever any point to it at all. Good day to you all.
S.D. Current Mood: weary