At Least We Have Cute Puppies

I'm coming closer to figuring out the problem. Here's one more piece of it: I feel like everyone else I knew from college is starting that whole real life thing. I'm not moving forward at all, and when it comes down to it, I'm nothing more than a cashier. I don't want this to be my life story.

I want to go back to school because I am not happy.

I'm worried that I'll be wrong again. And I'm worried that I'll never be right.

If my body would allow me, I'd probably be crying every day.

At least some things can be constant, like the way it feels when I'm fighting against the weight. And I am in control. Maybe that's what's happening right now. I'm pushing and pulling and causing myself all this pain--deliberately breaking myself down so I can come back stronger the next time.

But I worry about there even being a next time. Fatigue is starting to overcome me. And it hasn't even been a year.

I can't imagine living the rest of my life like this. I'd rather die.
Something is wrong.

Now I'm going to go watch a cute puppy or two.

Still November, Right?

It's not depression unless you've got no reason to be upset. Over and over again, I am forced to face the fact that my life is and will probably never be what it was supposed to be. I'm already a failure. And now that this is where I am, it seems impossible to get out. My life isn't what I want it to be. No matter how happy I can be with the person I have become, the rest of my life has fallen to shit, and I'm going nowhere. And I'm not any closer to saving up enough money to change that. I'm banking on getting into graduate school because I know I won't have to worry about money during that time. I'm praying that I get that position because I'll make more money working 20 hours a week for four months than I will in an entire year at GNC. But if that doesn't work out, well, I don't know where I will be.

The credit card payment is supposed to come out of my account tomorrow, and I'm not going to have enough money to pay it. If it takes the money anyway and overdraws my account, that's the best thing that can happen right now. And I'll be slammed with fees until I can deposit my paycheck after work on Wednesday. If the money doesn't clear...I'm back up to paying 400 dollars a month with nearly 30 percent interest. If the latter situation plays out, I'll have to leave. I don't even know how I feel about it. There are things I don't want to deal with if I go home, but there is a part of me that misses being able to be closer to my family. I would miss everyone here, and Jon would break up with me, but I don't really feel like I have a lot of friends here. I don't even think I have a few, really. Knowing that living expenses would be taken care of at home is a plus, but should that be enough? Should I risk everything now in order to prevent having to risk it for the next ten years of my life?

You have no idea how many times I've considered selling drugs or sex for money. I have people telling me stories about how they used to have five cars and had so much money coming in that they could just give one away. Then I always have to stop and think about how ridiculous it is that I'm even at this point. This wasn't what was supposed to happen, and this isn't what they told me would happen. It almost makes me regret going to college at all...almost.

I could have been in medical school right now. Instead, I've been living on a little less than 2 dollars for about five days now, and I still have to wait until Wednesday night. I haven't actually gone grocery shopping in months. My bed is still just an old mattress on the floor. I'm still in the same place, barely scraping by, and I can't live like this any more. I've been trying to make the best of it, but the effort is just one more thing that takes its toll on me.

"Just get another job."
I already want to cry every single morning I have to wake up and go do this. I'd probably--definitely--want to put a bullet in my brain if I had to do it twice as much.

Yes, a lot of people have it a hell of a lot worse than I do, and maybe they are better people than I am for being able to handle more than I can. I won't argue with it. I just don't want to get to the point where I feel like it's not worth trying anymore, and I'm so close already. I can feel it creeping up on me, almost breathing on me. What is there to keep that feeling at bay? I have nothing tangible to help me through this, and every time I rely on hopes and dreams, I end up in a far worse position.

Moving home would be giving up. But I might have no other choice. I'm just another one of those people who got lost in everything I guess. And I have this terrible feeling that I'm never going to get out of this and that this really is as good as it gets. But maybe I do deserve it, with all that I could have and probably should have done. I'm afraid that it's already too late.

I'm just afraid.
And I'm worried that there's no point in even wanting anything now. I don't want to shut down again. I feel like things haven't been right in such a long time. It's hard to imagine that I could have felt fine a few days ago. Maybe I don't know how to live in what everyone calls the real world, but that's really funny to me.

I may not understand a lot of things about how this society works, but if it ever ceased to work, I'd be able to survive just fine. Most of the real world is absolutely fake, and I'm tired of dealing with it. I hate knowing that that's probably how I'm going to feel for the rest of my life. I just lost my train of thought completely.

I need a plan. I feel like I need help making one. But I don't know if I actually trust that many people for that kind of help. As usual, I'm my own worst enemy. Bleh. This ship is sinking for sure.

Just Another Tuesday

There is value in writing something every day, no matter how insignificant your observations may seem. Those little details, like the fact that it rained today or that I actually took the time to talk to a girl I thought I wouldn't be able to stand. Let's just say I was wrong. I've learned over and over again that first impressions are almost always wrong, even if you're great at reading people. Anyway, one of these days, I'm not going to remember these details, and maybe having them in a little place like this or in a notebook stashed away in a green box in the corner of my room will be the most important thing in the world to me. Our memories really are our greatest treasures. We turn to them when we have lost loved ones--when we have lost anything, really. I strive to remember because forgetting means you have to start over.

And about the pageant. As I expected, I am completely over it and ready to take on the challenge of preparing for nationals in a few months. Bouncing back seems to be my specialty. In order to be a success, you've got to first be a failure. And sometimes, you're both at once. It depends on where you're standing.

It's one of those days where I'm not sure where I'm going but I don't mind at all.

I requested a day off next week to go get my fingerprints done. This is finally going to happen. It's funny that I don't feel more excited about it. It's been so long that it's not that big of a deal anymore. It's just something that needs to be done to avoid awkwardness and inconvenience. I don't need the validation. I think the most exciting part is that I will get to do this with at least one other trans person, and this is a big step for her. I want to see this happen for her more than anything, really. It's always exciting to talk to people who are about to embark on a journey similar to yours. And you want to tell them everything and prepare them for all the challenges they might face, but it's almost like being a parent in a way. You can't tell them everything. Some things they'll need to experience for themselves in order to really understand. I've come to accept this as part of my own life in general, another facet of growing up of which I was unaware several years ago.

There's no one else here right now, and I'm happy to sit in silence. It's something I don't get enough of these days.

I was supposed to be getting a puppy for Christmas, but that's not happening because the girl gave it away to someone else (a relative) after she had already promised it to Jon for me. Oh well. I'm a little sad because I was looking forward to having a cute little animal waiting for me every day. I squeal around tiny, cute things.

I need to design fliers, but I'm exhausted. I just want to sleep. Still feel like it's too early for that, though. Same old. I suppose if I pass out I can just wake up early and start on them.

This is getting silly, so I'm out until I have something slightly more interesting to say.

In Between

It's kind of ridiculous that it's all over now, and it's even more ridiculous because I don't even WANT to be sad. I just want to get over it and get on with things. I'm not mad. Maybe a little peeved about things here or there, but let's face it, Skyler had the better package tonight and was spot on. And I really am happy for him, and I'm happy for myself too because I'm still going to nationals, I still got to try out this idea (though perhaps it wasn't the best time for a test run...), and I still wound up learning a lot about myself. It's amazing how much you can learn about how you're presenting yourself to the rest of the world just by looking at the way you walk, the way you smile, etc.
And it's also incredibly frustrating.
I want to pick a place to start talking about all the things that happened tonight and the nights leading up to the pageant. I could say so much about how I didn't have enough time with working so much and how it was so difficult to get dancers, etc. But those are just excuses. And maybe I could also talk about how I should have switched my idea when I knew we would only have three days to practice a pretty complicated routine.
And perhaps it was a little TOO outside of the box. I'm not sure. But there are two things that piss me off. One of the comments on my sheet for presentation was "not good as a boy". On a similar note, there were comments in another category suggesting that I was not walking in a masculine way. Or not doing something in a masculine way. Oh, and did I mention I got knocked points for using the word queer? I guess that makes three things. Am I the only one that has an issue with the pageantry system deciding how to define masculinity? I mean, it is their pageant and they have enough crazy rules the way it is, but this just seems like something that's detrimental in general.
The whole thing's just got my head spinning tonight. And I'm just...sad. There's no way of getting around it. And it's more annoying than anything else because my brain is fully capable of moving past this and not dwelling on shit, but it refuses to. And even when I wanted to have a good cry a little earlier, I couldn't. It's almost impossible for me to cry when I need to, yet sometimes I find that tears well up in my eyes instantly depending on the trigger (usually something random and pointless).
I know what I can do well. And I know what I like to do. And tonight has me thinking that this pageant thing really isn't for me. I do get annoyed that I have to say words in a particular order and do this and that. It's a lot of jumping through hoops, and I hate feeling that winning a title like this is the only way to spread my name. I'm sure it's not true, but that's the way it seems to have been working.
Here's the problem I'm having. I'm a performer. That's clearly what I like to do, and it's what I do best. I know how to keep people entertained and push boundaries and keep coming up with new things. I'm also pretty good at designing outfits, apparently. But they don't like the way I walk. I just thought of something...
Maybe the modeling portions are so difficult for me because I honestly don't feel like I'm in character when I am doing it. I don't feel like I'm performing, and maybe if I did, I would do better. I just don't feel like I have the same confidence. There's also that part of me that keeps wondering how my walking in the shape of a T or a triangle is relevant to anything or how it can be construed as entertainment. And I know the answers to my own questions. It's not about that, not all of it. When I do stuff like this, I realize that I feel like I'm doing it for somebody else. With Mr. Cattivo, I felt like I was doing it for me. I did things how I wanted to, and I was allowed to be a lot more creative with it.
Maybe it's just learning that this isn't what I do. I can't sleep. It's almost five in the morning, and I'm already running on barely any sleep from the night before the pageant, but I can't get the thoughts out of my head. My brain always feels like it needs to resolve everything before it can move on, which is why I am so annoyed. I don't want to think about this right now. I honestly want to go upstairs, take a hot bath, read a book, come back down here and cuddle with my sleeping boyfriend.
I asked him if he thought I should keep doing this, and I could tell it was a difficult question for him to answer. There's no getting around the fact that I want to be great at what I do. I want people to know who I am. I want to perform in more places and all that jazz. And I sometimes feel like this is the only way to do it. Again, the brain knows that really isn't true, though it certainly doesn't hurt.
Maybe I'd rather spend my time, money, and energy working on something for me, and by that I mean something for the audience to really enjoy without having to worry about the minute details that usually escape them anyway. If this is how I feel, and I know this is what I do best, why am I still sad? It makes no sense to me.
I'm an entertainer. I'm more comfortable doing that than anything else. But that doesn't mean I don't want to get better at the other things, and maybe a lot of that right now is because it's a new challenge. The other things are hard for me, and ironically enough, I sucked the most on talent because I was so bent on sticking with this original idea I had in my head. I wasn't really on tonight at all, and pretty much everything that could go wrong...did. I knew what had happened as soon as I stepped off stage. But should the fact that it's a challenge matter that much if that's one of the only things keeping me in it?
It should be as easy as saying it's not for me. Kind of like basketball.
But why isn't it? Maybe I should start asking myself why I really wanted this in the first place. Did I really need the validation that badly? And did it backfire completely? Maybe. Not sure. My confidence is shot right now, but I've learned to bounce back. Maybe it's because I put so much time and energy into this, and I don't have much to show for it at the moment.
BUUUUT I still get to go to nationals. And I can change things up. I can learn how to model better, stop saying ummmm all the time, and figure out a way to make the lights work better for me instead of hurting me because you couldn't see my face. But how much more is that going to require from me, and can I even do that now knowing the way I feel.
I'm trying to think back to what I told them in the interview. They asked me how important it was for me to win the crown tonight. I told them that, although that would be nice and everyone enters with the goal of winning, it wasn't everything for me. I come out of each one better than the last, and maybe that's why I've stuck with doing it. I like pushing myself, but sometimes I can't stand not being able to do it my way. A lot of my life is based upon rules and rigid thinking and all that good stuff, and I don't want it to apply to my performance. Maybe I enjoy it so much because I can do whatever the hell I want.
It's a lot for me to think about right now, and I just want something else to go in its place. Again, I'm an annoying kind of sad that just won't leave.
I'm not going to think about drag for...I was going to say at least a week, but I have a show in two. It never stops.
I wouldn't have it any other way.

Oh, and the tuxedo that I have isn't supposed to button, fyi. lol

The whole night has me thinking. There weren't too many people there, and it really didn't seem like people were having that great of a time. Do I really want to spend all of my energy doing this when I could be putting it towards making sure people do have a good time and actually want to come back and see me?

Random good thing: I look great in white. :)

Maybe I should start saying some positive things here. And maybe I should stop saying maybe. It must be getting pretty tiring about now.
Maybe.

EsQ wants me to make a pair of pants like mine, though. I mean, that's a positive thing, right?

I want to keep writing to bleed this issue dry, but I don't think that's going to be happening any time soon, or maybe I feel like it's close enough to say that I want to start that bath water.

I'm caught exactly in between "I give up" and "bring it on".

Working

I'm starting to understand so many of the things that my parents used to talk about, and as much as I hate to admit that they were right...well, they were. I'm depressed about it, maybe for real this time, though the weather may have something to do with that as well. I absolutely hate my job, and every day that I wake up, I think about what would happen if I just decided not to show up. It's not that I mind the people I work with. No, I actually like them a lot, and I'd love to pursue friendships with them outside of our little store. But what I actually have to do is so unbelievably stressful that it feels like I have no time to do anything for myself when I leave work because I am too busy trying to cleanse myself of the frustration that's built up over the past eight hours. And this makes me feel even worse about myself, and it only adds to the stress that accumulates when I realize that everything is piling up again. I thought that feeling was supposed to go away after I graduated college. After four months of living like this, I realize just how much I'd rather be back in school. Maybe it's the desire to have that part of my youth returned to me, but I feel that it's more along the line that I have no patience for rude, ignorant, obnoxious, pretentious, insert-your-favorite-adjective-here people. If I'm not getting yelled at by someone who needs piss cleansers so he can pass a drug test, I'm being talked down to by some corporate moron who knows absolutely nothing about health or fitness. I wish I could tell these people like it is. And there are some people I wish I could throw in front of a bus, like the man who decided to make fun of one of the St. Jude's cancer kids whose pictures we have on the counter this month. I thought it would be fun to try to teach people about working out and staying healthy until I realized that I work downtown, and you don't get nice suburban families coming in to your store. You get real people. And maybe that's what scares me the most. Drug dealers, crazy people (like...REAL crazy people), homeless people, stuck up rich people...never any families. People don't want to listen to me. They could care less what I have to say. They want to be right. They want their QCarbo or their inositol. They want to show me in every way that they can that there is indeed a difference between us. They need so badly to believe that they are better than I am. I deal with it so much that I guess I'm starting to believe it.

I'm starting to get the feeling that I'll never have the kind of stable life that I've always wanted. Maybe that's what I'm just supposed to have wanted. Even so, I know I'd be less stressed out knowing that I'd have enough money and not having to scrape everything together at the last minute. I wonder if going back to school is even going to help me at all. It may not, but I KNOW that I can't get anywhere with what I have now, and that's depressing as hell. It makes me wonder why I even went to college. I went because I believed it's what I had to do. I wanted it, yes. But that's because I wanted to be smart and important and all of that. I'm neither right now, so a lot of good that did me, huh?

I hate being made to feel like a loser. I want a normal job. I want these next few months to be over. I want things to make even a little sense right now. I want them to be clear. And I can't even prioritize. That's how bad it's gotten. I have no idea what should be the most important thing.

This was a really circuitous way of coming to the conclusion that I can't do everything that I want to do for the rest of my life. Some things are going to have to stay memories, and that makes me really sad. I don't want to give things up. But I know that I have to. Over the years, more and more things have led me to believe that growing up is letting go. And you have to keep letting go of things the older you get. And then there's nothing left. It's pretty morbid, but it's fairly accurate, even in a purely physical sense.

I feel like I have so much more that I could give. I could be doing something more useful with my time. I want to do something better. I want to do something for people who will actually appreciate what it is that I am doing. I just wish I felt less alone in trying to figure out the next step. I am fairly certain that I want to go back to school. But how do I know that I'm not just saying that because things are so miserable right now? What if I am, but what if that's okay? What if that's the only reason anybody chooses to do anything? Not to attain happiness but to avoid misery?
It's something I haven't had to think about in a while.

Even though I feel like I have too much going on right now, I want something more. I want that stability. I want my own place and my puppy and my license. The latter is mainly because I'm tired of it taking 3 hours to do something that should take 40 minutes at most and because I absolutely hate being dependent on other people. I want to want people in my life because they make me happy and because I value their companionship, not because I need them.

Did I mention that I want November to be over?

I didn't even have a costume for Halloween this year. I didn't get to give out candy. I had to work, and the only children I saw in costume were the daycare kids we drove by as they were walking down the street in the morning. I'm losing the things that are important to me, and I hate the way that feels. Why is it always that my job destroys my life? Maybe that means I'm in the wrong job. How do I know what the right one is? I feel like I'm going to fuck up a hell of a lot more in the near future trying to figure that out. And then I won't be young anymore.

I must seem like a miserable fuck, but really I just need to get these things out because they are constantly on my mind. I'm generally a pretty chipper person, but that gets tiring when all of these other things are weighing on me. I don't want to put up with this shit at my job for much longer, but I need to find a better one first. And that hasn't happened. I keep applying and applying, but I get nothing. I may be made a manager soon, and that may make things a little better. If I got paid more than minimum wage to deal with these fuckers every day, maybe I'd be okay with it.

Agitated. Confused. Trying to get over it.