Sunday, December 30, 2012

The End is Near

A friend of mine is having a slight mental breakdown because she is turning twenty soon, and her life doesn't resemble what she had planned for herself. She told me of how she wanted to be married and have children by 25. She thought she would be engaged by now. I remember when I first went away to college, thinking I'd come back home to marry the boy I dated in high school and immediately start having kids, though the last part always worried me a bit. I never thought about the details. I never thought about how I would get there. I just knew that's where I wanted to be without knowing why. She's looking around her, since all of her friends seem to be my age or even older, and we're both noticing the same thing. None of us are where we thought we would be, especially in terms of our romantic relationships. Most of my friends who are getting married are at least 26 or 27. The whole conversation doesn't even seem as important to me as it once did. I used to worry about the exact same thing. I wasn't where I wanted to be. I was alone. And I felt like my life was just passing me by.

And this wasn't even that long ago. I'm sure the drugs helped a bit, but something else has changed since my coming back here. I can't figure out exactly what yet. I feel more responsible for my own life. I feel more grounded. I feel less pressured to jump into something, even if I know I want to do it eventually. I'm taking my time getting to where I want to go because there are things that need to be done now. I want to take care of the present person that I am without completely throwing my future away. I now recognize that I don't have to sacrifice one for the other.

I'm going to be 25 soon. I feel a disconnect from the number just as I used to feel a disconnect from the gender I was assigned at birth. It doesn't seem to fit. But unlike my gender, my age doesn't affect very many things I do in my daily life. It just doesn't matter. I hear so many people my age complain that they can feel their bodies getting older, starting to break down. I don't feel that way at all. I feel like I'm always getting stronger. Maybe I'm losing more hair. But I can live with that. And then, when I have the money, I can change that too, if I decide. I somehow feel more grownup than when I left Pittsburgh, even though I live in my parents' house and frequently get mistaken for a high school student.

I'm starting to believe that I can make important decisions for myself. I'm taking the risks associated with making those decisions. I'm living with the consequences. I'm not asking for advice as often when I already know what I should do. I'm taking responsibility, it seems. But I still can't seem to keep my room clean. I have a few theories about why that is the case now. It's a different reason than before, and it involves not wanting to go upstairs at certain times. As a side note, Christmas by myself was interesting. And it really didn't bother me. Everyone expects me to be upset about it. You're supposed to spend Christmas with your family. But Christmas happened a day early for me, so I didn't really miss out on anything. I almost started to get upset just because people thought I was supposed to be.

Time to watch football again.

Monday, December 17, 2012

Unnecessarily Bored

The good news is that I am not feeling shitty about life anymore. The bad news is that I'm pretty sure my body isn't absorbing the nutrients it should be. The weight loss plus a few other not-fun things worry me, which is why I'll be talking to my doctor this Thursday about starting to taper off these medications. I don't want to be dependent on them, and I don't want them to get in my way of doing what I want to do. But I also know that I really did need a little help getting to an okay place. I feel like I might be there, but I worry that something serious will happen if I stop altogether. I wish I had health insurance. That's also not helping my situation.

It's my day off today, and it's been so long since I've had more than a few hours to myself that I don't know what to do. I feel restless yet lethargic. And I'm watching a show about snow monkeys.

I am not sick. But I am sweating, and I have been tired for quite a while now. And it's not a normal kind of tired. Ordinarily I would say it's due to my working 60 hour weeks, but this is a different feeling. Again, it's probably time to stop all these drugs.

New show: How they make light bulbs.

When I have a day like this, and I know I have so many things to do, it seems like they're all in a pile on the floor. I'm told to find something, but I don't know what I'm looking for, so I just keep sifting through the same crap over and over again.


Monday, December 3, 2012


I've been writing on paper for much of the past few weeks. Dozens upon dozens of pages. I needed to say things I didn't want anyone else to hear. But there are some highlights that are worth mentioning. Life is changing, and I'm still scared, but there is so much more to my life than fear or anger or depression.

November 3: "I don't want to kill myself. But I don't know how long I can safely say that. Even now, I am becoming frighteningly detached from all emotion surrounding suicide, especially my own. I want to believe that life has meaning. That MY life has meaning. But I'm just going to fade out like the rest of the world. And no one will care about my existence, so why should I? If life is all about the pleasure of the present moment, and there is no pleasure to be had, wouldn't it make more sense not to feel at all? If this is the way things will be forever, why not just stop it before more pain results? Why does it seem so logical? I would never have allowed myself to entertain this kind of thinking before. But now it's a part of who I am and I cannot prevent it. I am afraid of myself."

November 9: "I feel disgusting. In so many ways. And I have no idea why. Something about existence just sickens me. I feel like I'm doing it all wrong--this life thing...I want to breathe air and not pain. I don't want to feel this in my stomach every second of the day."


November 13: "I do not feel like the person who wrote the last two entries. I feel more like my old self, but not entirely. I feel capable. I feel that what I have learned will be useful. Today, I have hope...Something about life feels beautiful right now, and I'm happy with that. I don't even need to try to explain it. The rain against the window and the soft scratching of the pen in my hand an even how the whole world seems to encompass no more than the hundred square feet of this room. It's all beautiful and right and perfect."

November 15: "I am so scared. But it doesn't hurt like it usually does. I wonder. Is it the hope or the medication or does it matter at all? I'm thinking it doesn't really matter why I feel good; I need to enjoy it while it lasts. Sometimes things just are. As a scientist, that's hard for me to live with. As a nutcase, it's even harder."

December 1: "I LOVE WHO I AM. No reason. It was just there. I can't even explain. It just exists, and I know that means this treatment is working--that I'm getting to that point of being okay."

December 2: "I am still afraid to look back at my last few months of writing. I'm not far removed enough to feel comfortable reading about my thoughts of despair and suicide. I fear that reading about them will cause them to resurface. I'm still moderately afraid that this is only temporary and that I'll never really be able to escape feeling miserable in the long run. But even if that is true, I'm trying to enjoy it while it lasts."

December 2, again: "I'm going to get my name changed soon. And my tattoo, probably before the year is over. I'll be able to see those words every day for the rest of my life, and this particular idea for my first--maybe only--tattoo. I always think back to how it changed my life the first time. And then kept on doing it afterwards. It sounds so simple, but it is one of the most meaningful things I've ever heard. It also serves to remind me that even the best of things will fade, including relationships. Will is no longer a part of my life, but the memories stay with me. They were good once. That's what I hold onto. It's hard to let go of pain, but I'm learning. I feel like I'm starting all over, and that used to upset me. It paralyzed me. But life is full of that same process. And this won't be the last time I say hello or goodbye. I will enjoy this for as long as I can. Because no matter what happens, I will miss it. I will miss you."

END OF NOTEBOOK from August 14, 2010 to December 2, 2012.