axeslade: (tosh bs)
The person I am during them is such a different person. This person HATES EVERYTHING and is, in general, an inconsiderate wanker.

And I hate this person. I want to kick them in the metaphorical balls and tell them to GTFO.

Which makes the Sneaky (self) Hate Sprial continue for even longer.

Fuck this shit. Hi, blackberry merlot (half a teeny tiny tea cup, so just enough for me to get warm and tingly enough to forget that right now I FUCKING HATE MYSELF).
axeslade: (stephen fry)
Tomorrow, I'm going to talk to my Policy prof about this project. Not due until the week of the 26th, but with everything else going on (in life and in my head), I'm totally stumped and panicky and I want to do well. Since I don't work I'll have time to talk to her (unlike Thursdays when I only have fifteen minutes between that class and work), so hopefully I can figure something out so I can breathe a little bit.

Unrelated: Right now, one of the few things helping me hang on is the music from Strictly Ballroom. God, movie, why so underrated?
axeslade: (Default)
I should not be surprised at the amount of paperwork there is to do before a psych eval, but urrrgh. Something about 'describe your average diet'--um. Well, some days it's calimari pasta, some days it's Hamburger Helper. THERE IS NO AVERAGE IN MY LIFE. *headdesk*

Also, I have to remember to call to confirm the appointment. Will do that...Tuesday.
axeslade: (stephen fry)
So, after a meeting with the nurse practioner (who agrees that I definitely have manic highs; I just write instead of spending gobs of cash on junk or going on a bender), I just need to fill out some paperwork and I'll be getting cheap/free Wellbutrin to see how that works--it would be for the depressive swings not the manic, but...yes.

Still nervous, obviously, but having someone agree that what's going right now is not normal or healthy was very nice.

I need a Stephen Fry icon for posts like this...

ETA: I should have an appointment with an actual psychiatrist at 8:30 on November 10th (will need to find out where the building is...)

ETA #2: Looking at the form I have to fill out, of course they ask for my gender. Urgh. Form for anti-depressants making me slightly depressed! That's my life.

ETA #3: *points up* Haters gonna hate
axeslade: (queen of wands future will eat me)
Watching Stephen Fry's The Secret Life of the Manic Depressive...I don't completely recognise myself in these people, but I see bits and that's...kind of hard.

But at the same time, I think it'll make it easier in some ways to talk about my various episodes (this is not to say I think for sure that I'm bipolar--although according to Dr. Google it and ADHD are often related or mistaken for each other). Just watching this and listening to various peoples' episodes I am reminded of some of mine. 'Oh, yeah, I had a moment like that. Yeah, I had a few months where I did this', etc. (Example: I definitely had a major depressive episode during my senior year...but, at the same time, writing a 400+ page novel in 60 days while also doing a show sounds a bit manic and that happened at the same time. Oh, and I remember having serious suicidal thoughts during that time, and had a bit of a snap two days after the show ended. Urrrf).

...tomorrow is going to be a really interesting day.

ETA: Oh, hey, girl whose depression kills her ability to write and how she's not herself when it's gone etc. Um. Goddamn.
axeslade: (Default)
Made an appointment for tomorrow (8:15--almost 3 hours before I'd have to be on campus normally, urrrgh) for depression screening.

Nervous, but too sick to really feel it. However, catching up with another friend and doing the 'yeah, well, I would be doing this but I can't get up the energy, etc' and him going 'yeeeah, that sounds like depression all right' is making me feel...well, hopeful that this apathy is something I can do something about.

ETA: Not sure what it says that, while listening to I Am The Doctor, I'm trying to tell myself 'WTF do I have to be depressed about? I didn't have to kill my entire race to try and save the universe from the Daleks. Hell, even Eleven manages to be pretty cheery, and look and what he went through as Ten and in the finale of this season!'

...dudes, I don't even.
axeslade: (lucas silveria)
So apparently Lucas Silveria of the Cliks has been on T for a year, which explains why his voice sounded very different in the last live vid I saw.

This is just a post to say that I am happy for him, but crushed personally which is ridiculous but...Lucas is one of the few moderately famous transmen I know of who was not on T (due to fear of fucking up his voice/having to take time off to relearn how to sing) and said things like 'I don't need a handlebar mustache to prove I'm a man'. And that was kind of empowering for this little genderfucker.

I completely understand that even if it wasn't in his plan originally, our dysphoria can shift and surgeries/hormones we hadn't planned originally can become necessary for our sanity. And I hope that was it; not for 'passing' in society but to be happy with himself. He seemed happy in his '1 year on T!' tweet today. And I'm sure he still believes you don't need a mustache/T/a 'normal' cock to be a man. It'll just take awhile for me to integrate this into my reality. And, while his new voice is very sexy, I did love his old one. *blasts Snakehouse*
axeslade: (queen of wands future will eat me)
So for a variety of reasons, I had a total freakout to my mom on the phone. Second time in less than two weeks.

A lot of stuff was talked about. But the thing that I'm posting about is the important one, and I'm posting so I can't chicken out of it: due to THINGS, I'm finally going to Student Health Services on Tuesday to see about getting on anti-depressants. Hopefully just short term. I just need something to get me out of the thing that's been going on in my head for the last year that I can't quite name.

Blllleeegh. *goes back to watching Covert Affairs finale*
axeslade: (utena/anthy)
First: Why do I not have the Jack/Ianto snog icon on this account? BAH.

Second: Pondering auction fic...and realising another thing I have in common with Jack in many ways--wanting to protect the people I love from me, from having to love me and deal with my messed up self. Yeah, I'm not immortal. But it's hard to deny that even before the immortality Jack was pretty fucked up.

But Jack, and myself...well. We want to protect people from ourselves--but that doesn't stop us wanting them. I've read many posts on how Jack's great fault and great salvation is his love. And, yeah, I can totally get that.

I've said many times how I wouldn't care nearly as much if I get gay/trans bashed were I not now with Girl. How, yes, I do try to chase her away sometimes for her own good (and I have to stop doing that. I have to trust that she has informed consent, etc. MAH ISSUES!)

And, well, again...even if she doesn't look as good in a suit (though she looks damn good in red)...Girl really is my Ianto sometimes. From The Sin Eaters

Years of trying and trying and sometimes succeeding....being himself. Being hated, being lonely. No one good enough, not able to mend, not able to stop the pain.
"Jack!"
Ianto was holding his hand. He kissed him. "You okay?"
"Yeah. C'mere, you." He gave Ianto a massive hug. He needed him. Sometimes more than he'd like to admit.


We've had our moments like that, and I am so grateful for them.
axeslade: (lily allen)
Kind of tangentally related to that last post: I realised this before I went over to check Shakesville after lunch but...for the first time probably since July, I'm feeling...good.

I had a meltdown on the phone with my mother yesterday. I'd known this meltdown was in the works for awhile, but really just needed someone to trigger it (this is not an insult to my mother--she knows, as I do, that I can really only fall apart around her and occasionally Girl without feeling horrible about it later).

There's a lot of things that built up to form the mass of unhappy in my head. And not all of them are gone (they probably never will be, and I accept that). But enough of it is cleared out that I can function again without feeling like I'm going to break (believe me, you did NOT want to be in my head these last two weeks. Woooh boy).

So tonight, after reading/school work (providing I get done at a reasonable hour), I'm going to start on my auction fic. It might be a few days late, but I'm sure my recipent will understand.

Tomorrow, providing schedules work, K and I will go to the bank to get transfers done.

By Friday, I should be able to purchase tickets for Christmas.

All will be well, this too shall pass, blah blah blah.
axeslade: (queen of wands future will eat me)
Oh, hai depression, anxiety and pain. Please, take over my life for another week+. I don't need it!

lolsob.
axeslade: (YU+ME bw)
Dear brain,
I know why you come up with these terrible dreams/nightmares about Girl and me fighting+breaking up. I do. But I'm seriously sick of them. I already wake up with a touch of heartbreak most mornings because of the whole LDR thing, I don't need this too. If you have to enforce some psychic trauma on me, how about more NE dreams?
No love at all,
axeslade: (chambermaid)
I had a whole bunch of my issues triggered earlier, so I'm having a long moment. Which is why I'm listening to a lot of Ani D.

My I.Q.

When I was four years old
They tried to test my I.Q.
They showed me a picture of 3 oranges and a pear
They said, which one is different?
It does not belong
They taught me different is wrong
But when I was 13 years old
I woke up one morning
Thighs covered in blood
Like a war
Like a warning
That I live in a breakable takeable body
An ever-increasingly valuable body
That a woman had come in the night to replace me
Deface me


Don't mind Adelai, sie's crazy tonight.
axeslade: (chambermaid)
I have a feeling tonight is going to be the night of my really horrible PMS breakdown. It happens most months anymore. One incredibly bad night emotionally+one incredibly bad night pain wise (sometimes these are the same night!), and then just bleh until ragging.

Fuck you uterus.

Yeah, I really think I'm going to get on finding a therapist and getting on T, because I cannot keep doing this.

On the plus side, we have a teapot now, so in awhile K and I are going to make Golden Honey Darjeeling. OM NOM.
axeslade: (k.d. lang)
Naaargh. Fantasizing about dressing up as Captain Jack (sans coat) around Girl--not what I need right now, psyche, thanks, no matter how delicious and fun it is.

*headdesk*
axeslade: (tosh bs)
Since I've figured out that talk therapy does fuck all for my problems (4 years in high school, plus sessions in middle school and I'm still...this--and yes, I have grown as a person thanks to that therapy, but....) and adding hormones (particularly female) into my body is something I'm wary of...I'm seriously considering going to the health center on campus and going through the depression screening and maybe getting on meds.

This, again, brought on by murderous PMS that is making me see the world through a haze of gray and a chat with a friend who said anti depressants helped her similar PMS/PMDD more than birth control.

And yes, the song is apt at moments like this, though definitely not all the time.
axeslade: (clyde hiding)
If I had to pick just one song to use to warn potential playmates about what they're getting into with me, it would probably be I Go To Extremes.

The St. Paul Pioneer Press believes that the song chronicles the highs and lows of a "manic-depressive". However, according to Joel, the song is an apology that is directed to his then wife, Christie Brinkley.Joel was apologizing for his erratic personality.

Both interpretations....yeeeah.

And yes, this thought is brought about by PMS and a restrained freak out I had a few days ago.
axeslade: (Default)
I cannot believe that I just realised that my anxiety concerning public restrooms probably came from my highly medicalised childhood.

Explanation: I had a lot of hormone problems when I was young (before I'd even entered kindergarten). Think of one of the ways they test for hormone levels. And then consider that I was on hormone blockers from the age of 4/5-10.

Yeah. I always knew that was related to my fear of blood draws and needles, but for some reason...yeah. Not so weird all of a sudden (combined with my gender stuff) that I hate public restrooms

Gargh.
axeslade: (Default)
So. Continuing on with my body issues today.

I've been thinking--a big part of my issues with my body shape isn't society (though that plays a part, of course) or peers (hell, Girl likes this body).

What it is really is this: I learned a lot of my gender presentation from David Bowie and Rocky Horror.






...yeah, those bodies aren't mine. Nor should they be. I recognise on a logical level, that unless I take T and grow almost a foot, those bodies will not be mine. But on a purely emotional level...I learned both feminity and masculinity from men like this. RHPS and Bowie's music were some of the few things that helped me survive middle school because they made me feel less alone. In a sense, these men are who I want to be (um, without the killing and removing of brains and cocaine use). So when the hormones start flooding, I find myself holding up their image next to my own and just pouting a bit.

Sigh. Yeah, cry moar emo-boi.
axeslade: (queen of wands future will eat me)
So yesterday, before the pain set in, was a 'bad gender day'.

The best way I can sum this up...sigh. There is none.

I was having a total 'boy day' (air quotes because, man, these labels are not all-inclusive of the feelings they represent). Boy clothes, yay! Seeing a boy in the mirror, yay!

...um, painters still not quite out, even tho they seemed like it before. Not yay.

Then I watched some Eddie Izzard. I watched Believe: The Eddie Izzard Story (can be watched for free at http://www.epixhd.com/ after you request an invite code) and then his Live At Wembley special.

And...I just...man.

Eddie Izzard is funny, right? Funny and awesome and all that. So why was I sad? Because he's gorgeous in drag and seems so free and easy and accepts himself so well. There's no shame. There's some self-deprecating humour, but you know.

And I...I can't quite get there, not all the time. And it's hard being in my skin sometimes. And yes, I know Eddie Izzard haz ISSUES, we all do. I'm just saying. I was hormonal like woah again, so hearing his father talk about how he didn't care what his son wore as long as he didn't get beat up, and Eddie prancing onto the stage looking so light...when not long ago my mother said something along the lines of how she'll never refer to me as [chosen name] no matter what...yeah. So, bad gender day and pain day.

I'd like to think these aren't ill omens for the future of Prop 8 related stuff on appeals, but just my body and mind being made of fucking fail.

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A most peculiar mademoiselle

January 2011

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