It hurts the most to feel good

Months ago, I lost the control I’ve had over my emotions, the control I’ve had over my emotions for years, and it feels like being hit head on by a freight train. Everything hurts, everything, good things, bad things, just being around people right now, hurts. About a year ago now, my happiness built up, and weakened my self control, and I can’t shutout everything like I’d had to, for most of my life. Happiness, became the steel knife in my windpipe, I function, but everyday hurts like hell. Happiness cut me open, it cut me out of my cocoon, and now I can’t stop feeling. Happiness feels like a virus, it festers in me, it helps to draw in all the pain, I’ve always been able to shut out, it wraps itself in it. For most of my life, every time I hurt, every time I felt alone, every time I wanted to cry, every time I wanted to reach out, every time I wanted to even feel, I was able to cancel it out with my internalized anger. But still, my mind struggles in vein to shutout feeling. It truly hurts the worst, to feel good.

You need to smile more

I woke up Friday morning, early like 9am, anywhere on the clock from 5am to 9am just should not exist. The whole reason for getting out of bed early, after an already long week, was to humor one of my therapists, and speak to the psych nurse, about being put on meds. I make it to my appointment, she starts out by asking what gets in the way of my being able to enjoy life. So I tell, I deal with crap on a constant basis, I’m still waiting for my surgery, I have problems opening up to people because I have a really hard time excepting how bad I really feel, I’d rather go on pretending I don’t feel at all, and when I’m around people it usually goes poorly, like being abandoned by a so called friend, when she was afraid something was going to happen to us, and I just feel like no one’s really there, I’m surrounded by people that tell me I need to go to the hospital, or just can’t take it when I try to open up to them, and I’m even trying still to get over bad therapists.

She just kept going on about how the pills would help. I said I know plenty of people in the same situation, who pills do absolutely nothing for, they may make your body feel more relaxed, but do nothing for your mind, when you’re dealing with real crap. She had nothing to say to that, but they can help carry you through. I’ve had no problem carrying myself through. After her talk about pills, she asks me if I was looking for medical intervention for my transition, if I’m transitioning.(she had my whole bleeping file sitting next to her) But I tell her, I’ve been on estrogen for 2 years, 2 months and 2 days, and I don’t call it transitioning, other than my voice and surgery, which would be nice, I’m already myself, and my voice doesn’t really bother me that much. I could not believe she couldn’t tell I was already on estrogen. She asked a couple more stupid questions, before asking how I’d like to be seen. I stared at her. So she goes “I mean some people like to be seen a certain way, do you see yourself as a woman or someplace in between. You seem very much like a woman your mannerisms are very feminine, I just want to make sure” My only answer was I see myself as a woman.

A good bit of the rest of the visit, she went over how I should go to Ingersoll, how I should see Dr. Gromko, blah blah blah. She even brought up how she didn’t agree with the standards. But then told me that in the DSM they’re changing it from G.I.D, to gender dysphoria. Doesn’t that make you feel better? So I tell her no, it just gives it a new name, for something that shouldn’t be in the DSM to begin with. So there was some trans this, and cis that, filler from her, and more blah blah. (I hate gender therapists.) Before I left, she made on last hard sell about the meds. She told me, I was so anxious, even a blind man could see that.

Later that afternoon, I asked my mom, when she was going to go visit my grandma, because she had just had mastectomy done, to remove a large tumor the day before. And my mom had planned to go that day, I just really wanted to know when “I don’t know when I’m going. When are you going? Don’t ask stupid questions.” are you still going today? “I DON‘T KNOW!!!”*super bitch mode activated* I might go today I might go tomorrow when are you going? don't ask stupid questions" I say when are you going to stop being a bitch? She got really upset at that point and mumbled about being called a bitch. Hahahahahaahha

Later we’re finally at my grandma’s, we go out to dinner at five guys, on the drive over, I’m already near crying because I’d been feeling really crappy recently. When we finally make it there, I’m the first to walk up to the doors. And I’m reaching for the handle, and out the other door, comes this group of girls, so one of the girls held the door, for the rest. As I walk through the other door, my grandma followed behind me, and she points to me and says to the girls, he should have held the door for you. I yelled at her, who the hell are you talking to? She didn’t say anything, but everyone was staring at me. We ordered and sat down, I didn’t get anything because everything had beef in it. At the table I ask her, why should I have held the door for her? She has two hands. “I don’t know” ughhhh I really wanted her to stop, and think about it. Did she really expect me to gentleman, when I’m not a man?

When we left and I got back in my mom’s Jeep, I put on my sunglasses, and tear’d up for a few seconds. But mostly, I just enjoyed the crappy ride back to my grandparents. I sat there on the floor, for a while then I started to cry. My grandma says “he looks tried” I stopped crying, a few minutes later she says “you need to smile more” I went into the bathroom and bawled. I was in the for a while, when I got out, and sat back on the floor, and started at the wall, my grandma says “he looks like he’s already falling asleep.” “You really need to smile more” (I hate it when people say I need to smile.) The whole time back at my grandma’s, I wanted to cut myself so bad. At one point I even thought about reaching into the box of tools, that my grandpa had sitting there on the front room floor, and grabbing anything sharp, and doing it right there, in front of them. On the ride back home, my heart was beating like crazy, I was crying with my glasses on. And even with all the crying I did that evening, no one noticed. hurrrrrrrrrrr

This one’s for my pussy of a father

The worthless coward who kick, hit, punch whatever you name it when I was little, The looser who always made it clear he loved my brother more, and treated him specially. The piece of human garbage that made my childhood miserable, who teased and harassed me, who made me feel like the most cherished child that ever existed. The coward who when I was old enough looked into his eyes and saw what he was the one who was afraid of me.

My one day in the sun

An enticing taste of the sweetness of things that could be, always makes the difficult more bitter. There are so many road blocks in everyone’s life, that I find myself feeling guilty for ruminating over the most minor of things, but I’m happy for the ability to do so. There is no hell like the shackles of one’s own mind. But if you can find freedom in yourself, no one can take that away. People may beat you, they may starve you, force you into back breaking servitude, but no one can over own you, unless you let them.

In retrospect my life had never been that difficult, but I’ve found that my strength has come at a huge cost. But are walls to cover pain and hurt truly strength? Or are they mere stubbornness, from my driven sense of resentment? My poetic killing of my true self is not the root of my resentment, it’s the friends, that where never friends, my parents that should have been in jail, or at the very least never been allowed to have kids, but at the end of the day I find the most in myself. Sometimes change can be difficult to bare no matter how much I want to deny it, to relinquish some of my protection to do so is never an easy thing.

One of my favorite recent messages

Greetings,
I started dating a super hot girl about a month ago and just came out to her about my interest in a bi mmf with her. I have long had this interest and have played with others. We went to a gay club in Seattle last weekend and she is absolutely infatuated with drag queens. I actually prefer very feminine guys like yourself. She is SUPER hott and I am very friendly. We are both clean. Let me know if you'd be up for meeting and I can shoot you some pixs of her.

Johnathan
PS: You can call or text me any time at 206-794-9838. We'd really like to meet very soon like before the end of the week...

I ran out of Anti motivation

People imply to me all the time “oh you must have had some motivation if your decided to “transition” ” No not really, I just stopped fighting myself just a little bit one day, I eased up on my own reigns just enough to get a little joy out of existing. I ran out of excuses, yeah I did take a risk I didn’t really think of it at the time, I’ve always had a F you attitude about everything. And at the beginning fully and truly expressing who it is that I am, was the biggest F you I could have given. Throughout my entire life I’ve been watching over my own shoulder to be sure I never acted in anyway like a girl, it always caused problems for me. So over the years I sat there watching everything I said and did, being sure everything was male enough, I worked so hard to keep it up all the time, it was hard to focus on anything else, to enjoy anything, or to even care. I’ve never been one to blame others for my own stuff, but I’d become very angry at everyone, for who I had to work at being everyday to avoid being teased, harassed and , and even a few times beaten, even the crap I had to deal with at home. I remember far back as preschool wanting to change my name, even before that I wanted to have a baby, and as even as a kid you learn very quickly if you’re different you don’t fit in. As a kid I was told by my mom why it would never happen, I had my next door neighbor go out of his way to teach me how to act like a guy, simply because he was afraid of what the people at school thought of him, because they knew we where “friends” at home( I was the only other kid for several blocks and he was five or six years older)

So for the better part of my life I’ve watched everything slip by me, because I was to afraid to stand up for myself. I never enjoyed being a kid because I always felt like a watchful adult. Even know being 21 years old, it’s hard to let go, yeah I feel the greatest I’ve ever felt in my entire life, but I’m angry, tired, and bitter

Motivation

Where is my motivation? The good part of me has no motivation, no drive It’s to young, it just goes with the flow like a small child. The angry part of me has no real motivation either, It’s driven by the ever going conflict in my head and is fueled by nothing but to prove that I’m not a worthless fucking loser