Sunday, June 20, 2010

June 20th

Today (or yesterday now) was Father's Day. I didn't call. I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to talk to a man that hates me. He hasn't been the father that I needed him to be these last few weeks. For I short time, I thought he would be my ally in this. I thought I could convince him that I am not insane. I thought he would be able to understand the truth of my situation and the truths of this faultily gendered universe. He seemed receptive to new ideas. He seemed like he wanted to learn as much as he could. But now I feel like things are worse off with him than when we first talked about my identity as masculine. I don't know what to do.
I feel guilty. But I also feel like this might show him that I feel just as invisible and neglected when he doesn't call me by my name. I feel like there is no room for me. I feel like I am being squeezed out of existence. And the only thing I am doing is being true to myself.
How do I say these things without hurting them more? And when do I stop worrying about that and start taking care of myself? I am floundering in my financial situation right now, and I am afraid to ask for help because I don't want them to feel like they own me anymore. I need help. I am about to reach out to my grandmother. I hope that she will be the one. I don't want to lose her. I want to get in touch with others in my family. I want them to see me. Maybe they can help me reach my family. I don't want to feel this way. I want my blood to matter in some way. I want to know that I belong somewhere in my family.
I feel bad about not calling my father today because a very close friend of mine doesn't have the choice. His father is dead. And I am scared that this situation will reach the point where I will not feel anything when my father dies.
It was also my brother's birthday. He's 27 now.

Mom, I am proud of you for trying to lose weight. I am proud of you for realizing that you are worth it enough to take care of yourself. I am proud of you for being strong every day of your life. I am proud of you for not caring about what the world thinks of you. I am proud of you because you kick ass at what you do, and you know this, and you aren't afraid to admit it. I am proud of you for reaching outside of your comfort zone. I wish you could feel these same things for me.

Dad, I don't know how to reach you. I feel like you set yourself up on an island sometimes. Like father, like son, I suppose. I have found a way to leave my island. I am opening myself up to the world after years and years of being a castaway. Please don't turn me away. Please don't force me back into isolation. I am proud of you for trying, and the only thing I want is for you to keep trying. I feel like you are giving up on me when you stop listening to me. I love you.

Brother, I miss you. Happy Birthday.

Observations: Almost 15 weeks

I feel more in control of myself, both mind and body. Because of the way my brain works, this can't be the case all the time. I don't shut down as often, but when I do, the whole thing seems more intense. And maybe that means that part of me is becoming more real as well. If this is the case, then I should be better able to deal with it.
But I can feel the difference inside of me. I feel less like I am looking at the world from under the surface--less like I am grasping to break the tension above. Maybe that's not really true. I know these feelings are still there. Sometimes I am so disconnected from other people. I know there is nothing I can do about that. But I can choose to fight. And I'm getting stronger. I'm getting better at breaking my own shell. I am realizing that I do have the control that I've always desired. I just need to learn how to access it.
I was playing drums today. My hands are better at doing what I want them to do. And I see something different when I watch myself playing in the mirror, and I happy. Like said, I feel more real. My body and brain are feeling less like separate entities. Now the struggle is connecting the whole of myself with the world out there. People sometimes fail to realize the paradox of becoming closed-off/shutting down/having a meltdown/whatever. I guess I just can't deal with the world on its terms. I can't take all of the shit that keeps coming at me. It really is just too much to process. But I don't choose this, at least most of the time. I want to be out there with everyone else. I don't want to be locked in. But I still need to figure out how to handle myself when those things happen. And I do feel like I'm getting better. I feel like I have one fewer disconnect on my plate. And now I can start to focus on the other big one. Maybe improvement in one has bolstered my ability to deal with the other. It's exciting to know that I am gaining control--that it is possible to gain control.
I feel at home in this skin of mine, for the most part. I don't feel like I am hidden behind my eyes. The rest of my face is starting to tell the story. My smile is genuine. I am a real person. I feel real. How can anyone say that I am doing the wrong thing?