Turning Points

I'm at a turning point in my life. Actually, I most likely passed that point some time ago, but I hadn't realized it until just recently. I feel that I have fully transitioned from "growing up" to "grown up" because, for the first time in my life, I do not yearn to achieve a future state. I find myself clinging to the past more tightly than ever. Perhaps my being fearful of losing the people, places, and things that remind me of my youth is just another manifestation of a fear that I've known my entire life, which is the fear of losing my youth itself, of course.

It's a ridiculous fear. It happens to everyone. We get old. It terrifies me for two reasons now, instead of just the one that I remember being on my mind all the time. I never want to lose my ability to do anything. When I work towards a goal, I am fighting for my ability to preserve myself long into the future, though ultimately, I know this is a battle I must lose when the time comes. I don't think I have quite come to terms with that yet. But I guess that's just being 25. The other reason has only begun to haunt me more recently. I don't want to be old and alone, with no one to take care of me or even be my friend, should I ever need either one of those.

Side note: I'm ready to meet the love of my life, but I'm not ready to fall in the love of my life, if that makes any sense.

But there are other things to keep me occupied right now. And really, life isn't so bad. In the moments of pain, it really does feel like there is no way out. And I really do feel that miserable sometimes. But maybe everyone does, and even if not, a great deal of people I know and a great many more that I do not have been in my place. Much weaker people than I have made it through much harder times.

I am learning to accept the idea that I may not have all that I want, but I certainly have all that I need.
And I am working towards the things that I want, though the process is much slower than I would like it to be.

I just added therapist to the list of things I need when I get money from my new job. Shoes and driving lessons are also on that list. Not things that I want. Things that I need. Also, that therapist better be able to give me something to deal with these focus issues. I definitely just stared off into space to think about something else again. That's just not like me. And when I get so distracted that I don't even want to finish swallowing the gulp of water that is in my mouth, I know something is wrong. But then again, I blame my surroundings more than anything. We've already been through that experiment.

I don't know why it came into my head, but I'm going to write it down anyway: I need to escape. I assume that actually has more to do with this little rut I've gotten myself into than the actual place, but I have had problems separating the two.

Final thoughts. My mother always told me that I would know when I met the right person. And I did. It is hard to think that anything could ever be like that again.

making room

i am sad that i cannot be there with you. but i am happy there is someone who can be.

anyway, today is my father's birthday.
i wonder when in my life i will finally start to think of my parents as old. i just don't see it.

there's a blizzard happening too. but it doesn't mean what it used to. blizzards used to me no responsibilities for at least a few days. maybe even a week. now it just means the bottoms of all my pants get wet and everyone drives like an idiot.

i wonder what the hell i am going to do. not just about my life. about everything. and i wonder this all the time.

i'm not sure if i'm sober or drunk or somewhere in between.

some things never lose their potency, no matter how much time has passed. love's memories have no half-life.
but my how things have changed.

i wonder what they think when they think of me. all of them.
i wonder if it's the same as what i think. what we used to think.

this is the year that i turn 25. and that is slightly terrifying. quarter century. almost old.
already old, in the eyes of some.

i can tell i'm not thinking in a way that makes a lot of sense right now. i can't get much out along one line of thought because by the time i do, i've already skidded past at least a dozen others. if only there were a ticker tape attached to my brain.

i wanted to call tonight one big sigh in the middle of my life. but it's not so bad. it's not great. but i'm sitting in a comfortable place, and i'm doing something that i want to do. i'm not sure i'm happy. but i'm really not so miserable at the moment. my arm might be kind of itchy, and my glasses are annoying me. but i'm really not mad at anyone. i am kind of sad, but there is nothing i can do about that sadness but let it happen. and i knew it was going to. it might hang around forever. i'm quite sure this sadness makes up a little piece of who i am, but that thought itself might be the reason it is so hard for me to find anything other than sadness when i visit these memories. happiness needs to find its way in. but it can only do that if i make enough room. happiness doesn't take up as much space. that's why it comes with a feeling of such lightness.

and everything is just okay.
and that's okay.

goodnight.

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.

Highlights

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."

AFTER MY DOCTOR'S APPOINTMENT

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.

Welcome to Now

With all of the goals I've set for myself to accomplish before the start of 2013, and after just having completed an eLearning on time management, I find it funny that I would disregard certain things I have learned in order to do this--to write. Writing is clearly one of the highest priorities in my life, and it is a long term goal of mine to leave a piece of myself behind, virtually and otherwise. Words aren't meaningless to me. Even when I feel like I don't have any and even when they are lost inside my head, they mean everything. Even when they are not spoken, they mean everything.

Side note: A Deaf man came in, and they called me to the floor to help him. I felt useful once again, but I also noticed how much I had forgotten. I didn't remember the sign for Christmas until I got home. That's probably something I should have thought about as the holidays started to get closer, and I of course feel silly because it is rather easy. I also felt pretty bad because he asked if we had any Wii U systems, and I don't believe we are getting any until after Christmas, which is what Nintendo always does. Then he asked me about when the new X Box was coming out. We can only hope that it is next year. By the way, I still HATE those controllers. Side note to the side note: Working in the warehouse is actually kind of fun on days when there is a lot to be sorted. I am very efficient, and I now know how to delegate tasks when I have other things to do and no one else is busy. I think someone actually told me to slow down at one point. And for once, I was able to listen and just try to enjoy the side conversations while managing my work. And it wasn't that tough.

I don't even know how to get back on track from that. I'm not sure there ever is a track when I write these things, and that might be the nice part about them. I'm not writing about misery and wanting to kill myself either, which is also pretty nice. My feelings of sadness and regret are much less intense, and I'm not obsessing over them as before. These are good signs. The little things are good signs. Like being able to start conversations or smile at strangers. Like not having to worry about getting overstimulated at work with all of the TV's on and all the people rushing about (fingers crossed).

I like knowing that people trust me and take me seriously at work. They think what I have to say is important. I like knowing that I'm actually good at what I do, and I think that's because I have to really try to understand another person. I don't take it for granted. I'm a conscious observer of unconscious cues, and that really matters. When you have to spend your life playing catch up, sometimes you end up surpassing the people you're trying to catch up to. I love watching people interact. I love to observe and to analyze. I've always been a scientist.

A combination of things helped to increase our department's performance by quite a bit in just one week. I think one of the biggest things was resolving a conflict that involved some coworkers by pulling someone aside and having a chat. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing. It's amazing what getting along can do to boost your job performance. Since my supervisor has been out for over a week, the computer supervisor has been filling in somewhat, but it's also made me feel like it's time to take what charge I can. It may not seem important to some people, but I like being involved in what I do to the fullest extent. I can't help but care.

Alright. Now I'm going to go on a rant again, and it's something everyone has heard me say already, but seriously...What the hell is with people buying their kids 400 dollar iPods for Christmas IN ADDITION TO A SHITLOAD OF OTHER THINGS? This isn't always a bad thing. Maybe the kid has earned it. But so many of these are purchased for kids under the age of 8. Do you know what I had when I was 8? Fucking legos. And I loved it. Legos, crayons, and books. Lots of books. And when you tell me you won't buy the protection plan when you buy your six-your-old an iPod touch that's less than half an inch thick and has a glass screen, I will judge you. And when you tell me that you'll just buy another one if it breaks, it makes me want to scream. Appreciate what you have. Really stop and think about what saying that to someone like me means. I don't make that much money in a week, sometimes two depending on the schedule. And there are people who are far worse off than I am. A lesson in humility is something I believe many people these days need, and it's not just the kids. I am now reminded of the time when some guy reporting on alligator wranglers in Florida remarked that they ONLY make 25 dollars an hour. The report was on Fox News, if you hadn't already guessed. That's all that's ever on in here. It's why I don't often go upstairs at night. I think I'm done with the ranting paragraph now.

I don't think I've got anything else right now. I'm just excited that I can see a little bit further into the future, and I don't feel as pressured to make a decision. I know what I want out of life. Things might distract me from that from time to time, but I always come back to the same place.

It's about that time where so much stuff starts floating around that I can't come up with anything else, so bye for now.

Solution

One step forward, two steps back. If that's the way it works, my creative solution is to face the opposite direction so I can get there faster.

Fact

I don't want to make a decision based upon the fact that I'm in a shitty place in my life. I want to know that I would make the same decision if I were in a better place.

Why I'm Probably Not Doing Medical School

I've recently started rethinking my decision to rethink my career plans, but the more thinking I do, the less feasible the idea seems. I spent nearly twenty years of my life in school, always preparing for something and always making sacrifices for the future. Well, the future that I planned for never really came. And there's no guarantee that it well next time either. Medical school, from what countless doctors and medical students have told me, requires even more such sacrifices. You leave school with more debt and the prospect of at least five to ten more years of little to no sleep or social life. And you have little time to pursue other interests until you are older. I don't want to wait twenty years to be able to do the things I like to do because I may never get there. Going back to school because I don't know what else to do is a stupid idea. Going to medical school because I'm a smart person and that's what everyone else thinks that smart people do is stupid. I don't want to grow to hate people or to live with the harsh reality that doctors just don't have time to treat their patients the way they really deserve to be treated. I'm interested in the biological sciences and am fascinated by how things work, particularly the human body. I'm also interested in helping people live healthier lives, etc. And helping people in general. But is it worth it? I keep asking my self if medical school and the chance to be a doctor are truly worth it. And my gut just tells me...no. And I feel like a part of me has known this my whole life. I don't want to live for someone else anymore, and the sad truth is that doctors spend so much of their lives going through the machine that they become a part of it. I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want to lose my humanity. So many reasons not to do it, and not really that many to do it that can't be satisfied in some other way.

I've also decided that going back to school is really stupid if I am not entirely sure that I'm going to be pursuing a lifetime of research, etc. If I am to go back to school, I want it to have some relationship to what I will be doing. I've heard even more stories about people who go through graduate school and wind up in the same position that I am now, so what would be the point in driving myself further into debt?

So, I have no idea what to do yet again. I want to believe that this phase of not knowing will end at some point, but there's no way I can be sure, which is actually pretty funny now that I read back over it.

Going to DC made me realize that I do love seeing new places and meeting new people, especially in the queer community. Maybe it's time to reconsider where I'm truly needed and appreciated.

I keep crying over all of this. I am trying so hard to enjoy just being where I am and doing things that I'll never get to do again. But it's almost impossible when you want so much more from your life. I don't want to be waiting to die, and I have days where I feel like that is all I am doing. I come home and don't know what to do with myself and just wait to fall asleep, sometimes literally pacing. I can't concentrate on anything that I do need to do, and everything just makes me anxious or frustrated. All I want to do is following the schedule of make money and sleep.

Personal training is looking more and more likely because I enjoy working out like nothing else. It's one of the only things that has been constant in this entire psychological journey of mine, and I think it's one of the only reasons I'm still here. And I like being in charge of my own money. And I know that I take a different approach than most people to what is healthy.

And then I keep thinking about counseling again, after another conversation with a friend, after two more conversations of being able to take people from the pit of despair back into a state of comfort. I wish I had someone to walk me through this. I wish I could just know. I want to know when I will know. I want to know if any of these doubts are unfounded.

I don't want to feel like a failure. It's been drilled into my head that success means reaching the top. I know I'm smart. Really, really smart. And part of that sucks because people expect you to want to do what smart people always do, and they also expect that smart people just don't do anything else.

If I'm going to make a difference in this world, it isn't going to be through being a medical doctor. It's not going to be in some lab. It's going to be with real people, being a real person. I keep thinking back to what she said to me. And I just didn't understand it before. I took it as an insult, as a smart person might be expected to.

"You'll never be great. But you will excel at doing ordinary things."

And maybe that is some sort of greatness in itself.

Maybe going back to school isn't the answer. And if it is, there's always time for that. There isn't always time for a lot of the things I want to do in this world, however.

I don't need to be like everyone else. I thought that meant not being like every other doctor. Maybe it means that I don't need to be like every other smart person. I keep feeling like I'm wasting my intelligence by not going to medical school. Like I'm disrespecting the gifts that have been given to me. But there are other uses for intelligence. And I have much more to offer than my skills of logic and memorization. And maybe those aren't even the most important things that I can offer. But they will probably help me in offering what I can.

This is crazy. I never thought I would end up here. And I know I have said that before. But even if only slightly, the realization that I don't HAVE TO do anything has taken some weight off of my shoulders. What if there were no more schooling to be had? What if I just considered this to be living? What if I just started moving forward now, planning for the things I really what and consider important instead of planning for more sacrifices? It seems insane. It seems to go against everything I've been taught. But as I have learned so many times before, much of what I had been taught goes against the very nature of humanity itself.

I don't want to live without my dreams because those are the things that make life worth living. I honestly feel that my experiences in the queer community have helped me and those I've met more than any of my scientific or health-related endeavors. I know I have reached people, and I continue to get messages from people who want to thank me for just being me. And that feels amazing. I don't know if this is supposed to mean something yet, but it probably does.

So, if I am not going back to school...Well, start over. I'm not in any hurry to go back if there isn't something driving me (other than the pressure of time and not having money or not knowing what else to do). So now the planning for a real life can begin. I don't want to feel like I have to run back to school to escape my own life. Going back to school would be just like going back to Pittsburgh. It would be safe and familiar but it probably wouldn't help me at all. It might only put everything I'm dealing with right now on pause until I'm a little older. And that, as it turns out, isn't such a good thing. Because now I feel like a child in an adult body, and everyone else is leaving me behind. I've felt like that most of my life, and I know that's because I really am a little bit developmentally behind, at least in some areas. And that sucks to have to admit, and I'm embarrassed by it because it's just something that a lot of people will never understand. Mostly because I can pretend to be normal.

I knew there must have been some reason that damned Good Charlotte song kept coming up on shuffle. The universe does provide me with at least a few beautiful coincidences to keep me smiling.

Maybe my goal in life should be to keep doing things that make me smile.

I can't believe I am actually considering this, but teaching came up as a possibility. I think there are more than a few teachers in my family, and I absolutely love kids. And my presence would definitely mean something. I am just getting a lot of things flashing through my head right now. Maybe this is something, maybe nothing. But there is time. I need to calm down and keep reminding myself of this fact because not knowing it makes me feel like I need to do everything right now, and having that feeling shuts down my entire body.

I'm sure I will cry just as much when I finally figure all of this out.

On Journeys...and some other stuff

I think I am in the process of learning that whatever is happening in this present moment is important. More specifically, I am learning that life--or any part of it--should not be treated as a means to an end...since, really, that means you are just preparing for death. I definitely grew up always looking ahead to something, feeling like I would finally arrive at "where I am supposed to be" right on schedule. What seems to be making this part of my life tolerable is this knowledge that what I am doing now is important, not because it is aimed at attaining the next step in the journey but because it is an important part of that journey itself. This part of my life does matter, and I've probably had such a difficult time with all of it because I don't believe I've ever lived without believing that what I was doing was all just to get somewhere else. Maybe things will be different if I start doing things to be here instead, metaphorically speaking.

I need to remember it, so I might as well say it again. No part of your life is simply a means to an end. Even a simple shower, which most people would say is aimed at getting you clean and ready to go out the door in the morning, can be an experience. What if it were just something nice that you could enjoy, without having to worry about what comes next? Why does it matter what comes next? Why would it matter if you were to treat every stage of your life like it means something and is where you are supposed to be? I've spent so long dreaming of the future. I've spent so long being depressed over not having that future, when I haven't even gotten through the present or taken the time to understand what I need to be doing in it. This whole thought process is what I need to be doing.

And there is no next step, at least no clearly defined next step like there had always been. I'm sure my peers had this figured out a few months after graduation...or maybe they still don't because they are still going through steps. Still jumping through hoops to get to where everyone has told them they want to be.

My trip to DC was incredible, and I learned exactly what I needed to learn from it. It was a test, and I think my friends knew that as well. It was so easy to talk with people there. It felt like living, if that makes any sense. I got to see the power of real friendship again, and I miss that. I got to see people going out of their way to be a friend to people that really needed it. I got to be a part of a community that was ready to accept me without hesitation. I got to be a part of a drag show with hundreds of lesbians in the crowd, with a few in the front row literally screaming and grabbing over the railing at me. I got to watch a video of my performance for the first time in so many months without feeling like I let myself down. I hadn't felt such a tremendous surge of positive energy about performing or even going anywhere/doing anything in so fucking long. I felt like I could handle the whole process of moving and starting my life. I felt like I could tackle anything, even something I've been afraid of for the past two years, something that I didn't think I'd ever be able to do.

And now I'm questioning things yet again. I just want to be sure. I had a talk with Aidan about why I didn't go to medical school. There are a few reasons I've only recently discovered, one being that I didn't want to admit that I wasn't ready for that level of maturity at the time. But I've honestly been terrified that I wouldn't be able to do it and live a full life outside of my career. I want to still be able to do all of the things that I enjoy, and I've again learned that that might be possible. I don't have to do it the way everyone else does it, and that is interesting. I have also been afraid that I just won't be good at it. Or that I won't be capable of handling something like that. But maybe not knowing is worse. I know that this just pushes my decision back again, but maybe it's worth thinking about. Maybe it would also allow me to do all of the other things I enjoy without struggling so much. I'm not done thinking about it. That's another thing I've had to learn the hard way--that you can't always find an answer. I want to be able to go to sleep knowing that things are solved, but that's not possible, and it's kept me awake for over twenty years. It probably won't stop, but I think it might be getting better.

Ken Las Vegas said he looks forward to the day when he can meet me in person. That was probably one of the best compliments ever, and it makes me feel like I am doing something right, finally. I keep wondering if I'll ever be able to have that kind of effect on people or if I already have. I'm positive there are people I greatly admire who have no idea how important they have been in my life. I've never even met some of them. I hope they know somehow.

The dynamics of any work environment are also extremely interesting. In a few months, I've gone from a know-nothing to someone who can be trusted with quite a bit of responsibility. I am taken seriously, and I am also invited out to join a group of co-workers for drinks, parties, etc. I managed to successfully integrate (I first chose the word infiltrate since it seems like there is some deception going on whenever I successfully accomplish a social goal) into both environments. I belong. And it's crazy. I very rarely get to feel like that. There were years in drumline where I never really felt that way, but then again, some people were trying to make that happen. So maybe that wasn't my fault. I'll never really know.

I don't feel ecstatic about everything in my life. I'm not manic right now. I don't feel like I can conquer the world, but I might be able to do the things I want to do. And maybe not feeling like shit and not feeling terrific, being somewhere in between, is being normal. I feel like I'm seeing things as they are without passing judgment. The essence of mindfulness. I guess it can be learned.

Best Feeling Ever

"Wait...I don't have to care about this anymore!"

Now

I've come to the conclusion that I've lost my home and most of my friends. Every few days, something happens to make me feel that I shouldn't go back to Pittsburgh. I feel like people are forcing me out--being cruel to me on purpose just to make sure I don't come back. If that's not what I'm supposed to do, then I'm completely lost again. I have nothing, not even something to work towards. It seems so ironic since I just had an amazing conversation with a group of old friends that really made me feel like going back was the right choice. Now I feel as if I've taken a giant leap backwards. I wasn't going to mention it, but if I don't end up going back, it won't matter very much. A friend of mine told me that more people than I assume/know think that I am manipulative and self-serving, and that because she believes where there is smoke, there is fire, this is true. I could list a hundred things that could disprove that, but I know that all it takes is one or two for anyone to believe otherwise. I'm trying to convince myself that the people who matter the most know the real me and actually care to be around me. That's not very many people these days, apparently. If my former friends are trying to make me hate myself as much as possible and send me back to the hospital, they're certainly doing a good job. I'm going to lose Pittsburgh to this--to people who only call when they want something from me or to yell at me. To people who just want to see me fail miserably. To people who are going to push me to my limit until I break down completely (again), and then belittle me for being weak or selfish for not just sucking it up. I don't want to end up going back to Pittsburgh to be just as lonely or even more lonely than I am now. I'd love to know where I went wrong and why apologizing for the things I have done wrong is not good enough for some people. And if it's not good enough, just tell me that, and leave me alone. I don't like being strung along. I don't care for people pretending to care about me. I'd rather just know you don't. But then maybe you wouldn't be able to get what you wanted out of me. How am I supposed to believe anything else if your actions don't say anything else, and you refuse to talk to me? I'm really struggling to figure people out here.

Do people think I am manipulative because of the way I think? I'm not trying to guilt anyone into feeling a particular way about something simply because I mention that I don't give a fuck what happened yesterday and that I'm always willing to start anew with someone. My life circumstances have brought me to the conclusion that everyone is deserving of another chance if that is what they truly desire. God gives you infinite chances, or so I was taught in grade school...as long as you are sorry. So as long as someone's willing to try, I don't care what you've done to me. I won't forget it, and it make take time to rebuild things, but I'll never hold it against you. Maybe it's that I try to talk to my friends for advice about the matter and they end up telling the whole world somehow. Not that this makes it right, but I know the "other side" or whatever does the same thing. For me, I just need to know the right thing to do. I'm never very sure about how to deal with relationship/social problems that arise. I keep fucking them up somehow, and I do wish I knew how to fix it.

Maybe some of it has to do with money? I don't know. I can't tell you how many times I've given all I had to other people, just in this year alone. It may not have been much in the eyes of others, but it's happened, and I've had to start all over again with trying to save. Maybe the fact that I can't drive? I just don't know. How am I manipulating people? About what is it that I am being so selfish?

I'll admit that I was being a bit selfish at the end of last year. I couldn't afford not to be. I chose to do what was best for me, even though it was going to hurt other people. But I couldn't survive any longer by pleasing other people, and I mean that literally. I was on the verge of heading right back into the psych ward, and you know what, I still am thanks to all that's transpired since the last time. But I did what I needed to do, and I don't regret it. If I have anything going for me at all, it's that I have the balls to say that. I have the balls to put this out there for everyone to see, half crying over here hoping that at least one person who used to care about me understands that I am a real human being. And what's happening to me is real.

It's hard to know whether or not I'm doing the right thing these days. So many people are so upset with me. So many people want me to believe that I am wrong. The trouble is that I'm sure this happens to people who actually are doing the wrong thing, but they react in the same way as someone who knows he is doing the right thing. So I want to know which it is. And if I am not, what am I doing wrong? I certainly can't fix it if I don't know what it is. (My friend didn't mention what about me was so bad either, so maybe she didn't know why the others were saying this anyway. Or maybe she didn't have the heart to tell me when I was already so upset, and failing at hiding it.)

I told my mother earlier tonight that it's hard to keep caring about anything when things like this keep happening. She mentioned that maybe I needed to come back here because she needed a friend. I agreed with her that it was the right decision to leave Pittsburgh when I did, but I also believed that it would be the right decision to return as soon as I could. Not knowing if that's the case is killing me. Thinking that it may not be is killing me. It felt so good to walk around Oakland that day. It felt right. I hadn't felt like a place belonged to me in a long time. But without the people that matter the most to me, it's just a place. And I'd be alone. In that case, I might as well just stick with the memories. What's a home without a future? A graveyard.

She said it was lonely at the top. Well, it's also lonely at the bottom. I don't know where I am anymore. I don't know where I am supposed to be. Some people will give me the obvious answer that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now, but it all feels so wrong. I feel so out of place. I feel like a drifter in my own life--like I have no control. And it makes it that much harder to keep doing the things I enjoy when I have this overwhelming feeling that absolutely nothing I do matters or will make any difference for me or anyone else in the long run.

I've cried more in the last year or so than I had in all of college. How am I supposed to know if I am getting any better? I don't want to be miserable and lonely for the rest of my life. And I don't want to believe that it's my fault, which is what so many people seem to be telling me--or rather, everyone except me, and I'm finding out about it later.

I can't please anyone it seems. I can't even make myself happy. And now I know that I'm going to have a horrible day at work tomorrow and be intensely awkward, and there's nothing I can do about it. Why? Partly because this will be on my mind and partly because I will be up all night thinking about it. I seem to be worse at functioning in the real world when I am tired.

My mom ended up asking me if I had thought of any other places I'd like to go. She said that I might figure something out when I visit Boston. And DC. I guess I could go anywhere, but I'm terrified, and she knows all too well how a change like that would affect me.

I've been trying to fight being where I am, looking up new apartment listings in Pittsburgh every single night since I've been home. I was putting everything into Pittsburgh. Every ounce of energy I had. And now, my motivation may be gone. It may not have been real. I don't even know what I meant by that, which leads me to believe that I'm getting into one of those states again, where continuing to type is better than facing the alternative of sitting here in silence and letting my thoughts wander into even worse places. Getting the words out seems to take away some of their potency. They can't hurt me when they are this far away, perhaps.

I know just living shouldn't be this painful. I know it.

If I am supposed to be here, I want to know why. And I want to know what I'm supposed to be doing.

If I stop looking towards moving back and start focusing on my life as it is here and now, in this shithole town with no one around, will things get better? Or will they get worse?

I really do wonder what it's like not to worry about everything.

I'm fighting the urge to go for a walk at this hour since I know I have to be up for work, but I need something to distract me.

Why can't I just move forward from all of this? Man, I really hope all of this bitchy writing pays off someday.

Have and Have Not

Everyone grows up differently, and even the term "growing up" means different things for different people. I might not consider myself entirely grown up, and that might not change. It's so easy to start thinking about the things I never got to experience--about the things I will never get another chance to experience. It's somewhat disturbing that it's that much easier to think about what you don't have than what you do. I'm pretty sure you all knew that, but I needed a way to explain how I got to where I am right now. I'm working on this thing, you see, where once I acknowledge the negative thoughts going through my head, I do a search for a corresponding positive one. While it would be nice to know how certain things feel, in some cases, that's impossible. Rather than agonize over the decision of whether I would change my circumstances in a hypothetical alternate dimension, I'm just going to look at what is and what has been, without passing judgment or looking for answer.

1. I will never know what it's like to be a teenager driving a car. I've never experienced the freedom that comes with being able to pick up and leave whenever you want to, of being in control of your own transportation in all circumstances. I've never known what it's like to sit behind the wheel of a car and drive alone into the darkness with the radio turned up all the way. I don't know what it's like to pull up to a girl's house in my own car and wait for her as she walks down the driveway. Most people's teenage years are centered around this and the independence that comes along with taking that next step toward self-sufficiency. I missed this. I missed a lot of things in high school. But, to be fair, I'm not sure I was all that interested at the time, and I think I only now realize what I was missing. (Believe me, there were plenty of other reasons to be miserable in high school.)

HOWEVER, I do know what it's like to walk ten miles, twenty miles, or more in a single day. There's a certain satisfaction that comes with completing a journey, however small, and having to walk everywhere has made me realize the real value of many things. If I'm going to go somewhere, it will take time and energy, so it needs to be worth it. Plus, I know what it's like to walk down an empty road with my favorite song playing behind me and the sun rising in front of me, with everything I need to survive (for a given period of time) strapped to my back. That's freeing in so many ways. I have learned to value my body so much more because if I were not physically capable of doing these things, I wouldn't have been able to experience much of what I have, and that goes beyond just walking a few miles to the grocery store at 2 or 3 in the morning. '

2. Childhood experiences: I've never been to summer camp. I've never been to a family reunion. I never got to drive a power wheels car. I never got to play football or baseball competitively. I've never seen Bambi, along with a host of other children's movies, and I've probably never played half of the playground games typical of kids in my generation. I didn't really play at recess. I just walked around by myself. I never really knew what it was like to play with other kids after school. I actually didn't know that was normal until I saw that everyone else was doing it, and then I started to get lonely. But I suppose I never really started interacting with other people on a consistent basis until seventh grade or so, and my first experiences were definitely awkward. It took me years to get it right, and I still fuck up. Because I never really had friends, there are a lot of things I didn't get to do when I was little--a lot of memories I wish I could have but don't and never will. I guess that's what children are for, but the way things are looking for me now, I doubt that will ever happen. (That's another brain crisis in itself.)

HOWEVER, I spent my summers playing with my brother, swimming in our pool, pretending I was the one who was going to save the day, pretending that people loved me because of my weirdness. But I would never let anyone know that. I remember nights when I would sneak out past midnight to go swimming. Not many twelve year olds can appreciate every sound the water makes when there's nothing in the air but the stillness of the night. I played sports...a lot. I did things, rather than being the type of kid who just had things. Because of a lonely childhood and an inhuman attention span, I'm actually really good at a lot of things. I've just realized this in the last few years: My random skills along with my dedication to practicing new skills are extremely valuable assets in the real world. And by real world, I mean the one that matters, not the one that includes your job, unless of course, you do something that matters for a living. I remember summers at the beach and how the only thing that mattered was how far I could travel on one wave...and maybe if I could beat my brother. I remember a childhood where my parents didn't force me to be a girly girl (most of the time). I was sad a lot, sometimes lost. But my childhood was one that taught me the important things in life, even when I didn't want it to. I never had the chance to be ignorant or naive, but I stop being allowed to have a childhood altogether when my brother was arrested seven years ago. High school turned into bullshit, and I started to see through everything. I started to value other people, and I began to question things so much more. This was a shitty thing to happen, but it opened my eyes to the way the world really works.

3. I'll never know what it feels like to run out the hole at Heinz Field with a snare drum. And I'll never know how it feels to march off that field for the last time while playing the fight songs. My drumline experience turned sour near the end. HOWEVER, while I may not have hundreds of friends from it, I know there are least a dozen people I could call right now, some of whom might even profess to hate me, who would be there for me if I needed them. My college experience was molded around my involvement in the drumline, and I'm thankful that I really know what it means to be Crew. And I'm hopeful that I can share that with someone else someday. And, let's be real, I became a kick-ass cymbal player. I do wish I could have appreciated that more in the early years, but I was working so hard to prove other people wrong that I failed to see what I had right in front of me. I now live my life similarly to how I approach playing cymbals: I'm going to change your mind by showing you something you've never seen before, and it's going to be AMAZING.

Doing all this has put me in a funny sort of mood. I kind of feel like taking that walk right now. Nostalgia can be scary. I'm not sad, but I am wondering about a lot of people from my past at the moment. I'm wishing I could be in touch with a few specific people, but for now, I have myself. And that should be, and is currently, enough.

Knots

I'm having a hard time trying not to compare myself to other people lately, particularly friends from college. So many of them already have their lives established, and while things may not be perfect for them, they're starting to improve. My situation, however, is just getting worse. It's hard not to feel like I'm missing out or like I have somehow failed to grow up. I mean, I'm living in my parents' house without a job right now, and I can't even drive to the bar when I do manage to go out. For some reason, I've been struggling with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness for the past week or so. Everything just seems pointless. Since I know this is all in my head, I'm just driven further into panic mode because I think that I'm falling back into a severe depression. I wouldn't be able to tell you if that were true. I'm not sure what level of misery is justifed given the circumstances. I'm not where I want to be, and what's worse is that I have no idea where I do want to be. Even worse than that is this thought that keeps occurring at the most inopportune times--the thought that I may never know the answer. I suppose I might be afraid to make a decision (any decision) because I'm worried about being even more miserable than I am now. That's kind of stupid. I'm worried that I have no real human connections anymore. Since I've been away from Pittsburgh, I've started to notice people's attitudes change. It seems like I just matter less to people I thought really cared about me. And once again, I've gotten close to a few people that now want nothing to do with me. I'm getting tired of getting hurt, and I just keep wanting to invest less and less in personal relationships. This is also pretty stupid since I'm lonely as all hell. It's been so long since I've had a really meaningful, thought-provking conversation with someone. Maybe that's my fault for not having felt comfortable enough to do it. I wonder if I'll ever have that kind of connection with someone again. I wonder if I'll let myself have it again, and I wonder if people will be patient enough to let that happen. The odds definitely aren't in my favor. I feel so strange. I know I'm a capable person. I know I'm not stupid. But I also know that I'm not doing a very good job of managing my life. I wouldn't be in this position if I knew what I were doing. And I just don't see a way out of it that allows me to keep my sanity and feel good about what I'm doing--or at least feel confident that good things will come. I don't want this to be as good as it gets. I don't want to live like this for the rest of my life. I want to be self-sufficient, but I don't want to be alone. I want to have an emotional life outside of myself, if that makes any sense. Sometimes I feel like a fraud because there are a lot of people who look up to me, and they think I have my shit together, when I know that I don't. But I guess that's what being a good role model is all about. Maybe it's better that they don't know how miserable things can be. Granted, I'm not living in complete misery. I'm not unhappy with who I am or the things that I am doing. I am unhappy with the things I am not doing and do not have. There are things missing, and the emptiness is something I can feel in a physical sense. Fucked if I know what they are or where to find them. I don't really enjoy discussing this with people because it always turns into a discussion about the options I have available. I know my options, and reminding me of things I already know and am trying not to think about just makes me even nuttier. The problem I have is in the process of making the decision. What is preventing me from completing that process? Why can't I just pick a goal and go for it like I've always done? Well, maybe that's because it didn't work out the last time. Doing that is what landed me where I am now. Maybe I don't want to make the same mistake again. How do I know that I won't? Shit. That might be it. I don't even know. Sometimes I just need an excuse to get my mind going on something and my fingers moving. I couldn't sleep at all last night, and I feel like I'm going to throw up and wish I could cry. If only I could separate these physical reactions from the mental processes. It's hard to focus on anything when your body is doing the screaming for your brain. And maybe I'm just whining. I don't know. Definitely not going to kill myself. Should I just be happy with what I've got? Should I just accept that this may very well be as good as it gets and not worry about it? I don't know. I've never been an expert at navigating this kind of crap. I feel like it's something new every time. I don't have a library of experiential references or anything like that. I can't give a decent answer when someone asks me what's wrong. If things are too complicated I usually just say that I don't know. Or I'll tell them nothing is wrong because it's easier than trying to translate what is going on in my head. I feel like I am doing something wrong. I don't know what that is, though. I don't want you to tell me what the answer is or give me multiple choice options. I want to know how to answer the question for myself. I want to know the formula, the secret, the trick. I want to be able to do this whenever I have to in the future. I want to know if I did the right thing. It's still bugging me. I really do want to believe that things are going to be fine. I don't really look forward to things. I just constantly worry about getting through them. And I know this is not right. And my own family has enough shit to deal with right now. And I'm trying to deal with all of that extra shit too. Not working. I have a few other thoughts I don't feel like sharing because they might bother some people. I think they'd come across the wrong way, so I'm not even going to attempt to defend what I've been thinking. I really hope to write something happy here soon. This is getting a little old for me. I'm pretty sure that's why people have stopped reading/commenting, but then again, this is mostly for my sake anyway. Later.

My Silver Key

"Calm, lasting beauty comes only in dream, and this solace the world had thrown away when in its worship of the real it threw away the secrets of childhood and innocence."

I could take it in a million directions, the line for which I made the mad dash to the drawer across the room in search of a suitable highlighter. Sometimes I feel like I am watching the world throw away the things I think it should hold most valuable. At other times, I know that the general concept of "the world" isn't real in itself, but I still get smacked in the face by friends I have lost to the pervading ennui.

The point of the story, or one of the many, rather, is that our division between what is real and what is not real is an arbitrary one, for all images--those within our heads and without--are filtered by the same human vessel. Our perception of the world of dreams and imagination is just as valid as our perception of what we consider to be the real world. But people lose this. They grow up and leave behind the key to their dreams, and they realize what a shitty place reality has come to be. But the problem is that their dream worlds have wasted away from lack of use by the time that they even realize this, so neither world contains anything useful for them. I vow to fight against becoming such an empty shell.

It's not about figuring out which things matter and which things don't. An old teacher of mine used to say that perception is more important than reality, and he mentioned this in reference to the start of various international conflicts, commenting that both sides will believe themselves to be in the right. There is never going to be a sole reality, and maybe that itself is the unifying factor of reality, however we choose to define it in the first place.

So...I decide what my reality is going to be, and I decide what matters and what does not, simply by choosing to believe in this or that, choosing to acknowledge this or that, etc. We are all designed to create our own version of the "meaning of life".

Realization

"It gets better" does not mean "it gets easier."

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.

Non-Back-to-School Blues

I realized today just how quickly a place can lose that feeling of home. I had to go to Oakland today for a job interview, which actually went so poorly that I don't even want to mention it right now, and I spent a fair amount of time sitting in the Rainbow office with the new president and vice president and running various errands. I kept looking at the guys playing football on the lawn, the girls walking around in flip flops and carrying purses full of books, the confused freshmen, and everyone else who had that feeling of security because they knew they were in a place that was entirely theirs. I don't have that anymore, and I already miss it. The place still belongs to me in a way, since I did spend so much time there and have known the feeling. But it's not the same. For a split second, I wanted to run back to the bus. I wanted to get away because I didn't want to confront those feelings. In a way, I don't belong there anymore. My time is over. Forever. And that's just one of those words that you never really understand the meaning of until you have to live it.

I'm becoming a shadow. I keep thinking of Dead Poets' Society and how I'm going to be just like the boys in those old photographs in the beginning of the movie. And I'm in between the point of recognition and the point of deciding not to be terribly depressed about the transience of my existence.

I'm on the road to seizing the day, but I'm not prepared for it just yet. But maybe that doesn't matter so much. Maybe I'll never figure out where I'm supposed to be going, but I should probably keep trying because maybe that's all there is.

I'm worried about the same things that everyone else is. I'm worried I'll never really be happy, but am I happy knowing that I'm doing everything I can to try to make myself happy? Does that even make sense? If it does, then I don't think I am because I don't know if I am doing everything I can. What am I missing? This is the question I've been trying to figure out for the last five months.

I'm worried that I'm not good enough or capable enough to do anything. I'm worried that I'm not stable enough to do many of the things that I am interested in doing. I'm worried that this will last forever. I'm worried about everyone else continuing to move forward while I stay exactly where I am. I'm worried that I made the wrong choice. I worry a lot. In fact, I don't remember a time in my life when I didn't worry. I've been anxious, neurotic, twitchy, nervous, etc. my whole life. It's helped me get a lot done over the years, but lately, it's been more of a burden than anything. I find myself worrying so much that I can't even begin to focus on completing a task. I become non-functional. And then because of my anxiety, I am less able to tolerate frustration, and because of my frustration and inability to deal with my own emotions like a normal person, I shut down or freak out. While things haven't been making me go absolutely off the wall lately, I worry that I am hiding myself away. I worry that I'm just avoiding the situations that even might make me a little anxious. And that's starting to catch up to me. I feel like I've put myself up against a wall and everything I've got going on in my life is charging right toward me.

It's roughly three in the morning. I'm still hungry. I'm almost tired. I read an interesting quote on DeJuan Blair's twitter this afternoon: "Just because you miss somebody doesn't mean that they should be in your life." And there's just way too much to say about that, for better or worse.

I'm starting to just feel sad a lot of the time. Summer is almost over. Those things are connected in more ways than one.

I wish I had enough money to just pick a direction and go with it. I have an idea. I think I know what I want to do, at least for now, and that's good enough for me. There's only one problem: I need a little bit of money to do it. I want to take my ACSM CPT exam, but I would need to get the books to prepare for it. And the test itself costs almost 300 dollars to take. This would cost me more than I make in an entire month.

I can't sleep because I think too much. And because I'm hungry. I'm starting to feel disconnected again. But it's strange that there are so many things that do make me happy in my life. I'm just having a hard time really digging my feet into that happiness. I think of happiness like grains of sand, and right now, something is making it feel like solid stone. I'm just not able to penetrate the surface, even though I know it's there.

I was in an office for the second portion of my interview today. I did much better on that than the first, and the one thing that I noticed was that it was quiet. I haven't been in a room that quiet for a very, very long time. And I hadn't realized it until just then. It made me want to stay, which is probably why I did better on that part of the interview. I know I'm not going to get the job because I'm sure I seemed completely incompetent. Maybe it's a sign. Or maybe it means absolutely nothing.

I might be ready to try to sleep again. I need to find time to make a fuckload of lists tomorrow.

The first Pitt game is this Saturday, and I probably won't be able to afford the tickets. I'm hoping some band friends can score me some tickets for the next game, but I really wanted to go to the first one. I've been struggling with a lot of feelings in this area lately. I thought everything had come to a nice point of resolution until I heard some news about band camp this year. I'm going back and forth on what I need to do and what my role should be. It's something I think about a lot. I wish I could be there on Monday as well, but I know better. It's just not the right time.

Maybe I feel guilty about so many things that I am thinking about because I don't like when things are left unresolved.

Maybe I should just go back upstairs and watch Ducktales.

Happy September

Tears

My college friends are back in school, and I suppose my own reality is finally starting to catch up to me. It really makes me want to cry, along with a few other things at the moment, but that's the main focus of my frustration these days. I am becoming further and further removed from the only thing I've ever known how to do well. I hate my job, and I suck at it, and I'm constantly worried about getting fired. This isn't where I thought I would be. And I know this isn't where I want to be. But the scariest part of it is now I'm not sure how to get back to a place where I DO want to be, especially since I have no idea where that place is. I'm worried that I will be lost forever. I'm worried that this is what my whole life will be. I'm worried about never making it. I don't know if I have long term goals anymore, and I feel like I have very little motivation because of it. I don't know what I'm doing. And I wish someone could help me. But now there's no one. It's all up to me and has been since the day I graduated, and we can all see what a wonderful mess I've made of my life. I seriously feel like a failure, and I'm not entirely sure why. I don't think it's because of any outside pressure to be or do anything, not anymore. Maybe it's because I'm just not happy. I want something more. I want stability that I may never have. I'm struggling to see the point in anything I'm doing, and it shows in everything that I'm doing.

I want to feel caught up. I want to feel like I'm in control of everything, even for just a little. I think I know why today might have been particularly terrible for me. I was washing the outside of the windows today, soap dripping in my eyes, when I realized how fucking pathetic I turned out to be. Later on, I found out that I actually fucked up washing the windows and left grotesque streak marks on almost every one, and my manager had to wash all of the windows again. The most menial, mindless task you can do...and I still manage to get it wrong.

I have a job interview on Thursday, and I already feel like I am going to fail. And that means I probably will. And I'll be stuck at GNC until they have no choice but to fire me because I'm a terrible salesperson. If you want me to explain something to you, I'm pretty good at that. But I'm not good at selling things because I'm not good at lying. I'm not good at all of the pointless formalities that go along with being a salesperson, and I really do have a lot of respect for people that understand all of that. I knew this job was going to be difficult because of that. I'm never sure how or when to approach a person, how long I have to wait before saying something else, where I should stand in relation to them, what tone of voice or posture I should use. I face similar problems when meeting and talking to new people outside of work, but I feel like that's alright. Maybe it's more acceptable for me to be awkward than it is for me to suck at what I do for a living. I suppose I worry that I'll suck at whatever I try to do next. And I am so drained from constantly thinking about interacting with people while at work that there really isn't time for me anymore. I can't do the things I want to do or have committed myself to doing, and that's really stressing me out too.

I don't know how to make things change anymore. I wasn't prepared for this. I keep thinking that college really was a waste of my time because I can't even get a job doing what I spent five years preparing to do. And in two months, I'll have to start paying off my loans. Add that to my credit card bill, and that's already going to be more than I make in one month. I thought I would be able to start paying rent again. Not being able to pay that or get my own place is one of the worst things for me. It makes me feel so helpless. It makes me feel like I'm just mooching off of people. I wonder what I would do if I weren't here. Where would I be? I'm starting to think that all of those people who told me I couldn't take care of myself are right. I suppose when it rains, it pours.

I haven't talked to my parents in so long, and I feel so disconnected. I feel terrible about it. I need help. I wish I could just take out a loan and get a place to live already. But no one would give me one, and I wouldn't be able to make the payments anyway. What the hell can I do? I really need money. I really need my life to not suck so much.

I started thinking about my number for Mr. Cattivo last night and got really depressed afterwards. I'm freaking out about not having what I need. I need to sit down one of these days and write everything out again. I seemed to do much better when I did that. But I can't stay focused. I'm having the same problems I did last fall. Is this shit ever going to stop? What can I do to make it stop?

I'm going to be stuck for a long time, and I don't know if I can survive it. I need to mail and write letters that I should have mailed and written a long time ago. I feel like I'm losing touch with a lot of people, even people I see all the time. And I know it's me. I'm retreating again. I'm running away without going anywhere. And sometimes I don't even realize it. I'm not freaking out as much. But it's not like anything good has been put in its place. Sometimes I feel like there's nothing. And I don't want to strain what seems like it is the one good thing I have going for me.

I don't know what else to write about but I'm having another one of those days where I feel like I should just keep going. I need to clean my room. That's a simple task with a clearly defined goal, and it's going to make me feel better after I do it. Maybe that's a start.

I don't know if I need to be by myself right now. I wish I were better at figuring that out and communicating it to others. And I wish it wouldn't happen so inconveniently.

I don't want to be a loser for the rest of my life. But I feel like I am just going to be another one of those statistics about trans people.

I need direction. I need to be in purposeful motion. I've been in this rut for almost a year now. I felt so close to getting out, but now I might be worse off than I was before. If nothing else, I'm realizing that it's just going to get more and more difficult to get out of it the longer I wait. And that just makes me feel like I'm being forced into making a decision about what I want to do for the rest of my life because I just don't have the luxury of taking the time I need to figure it out. That whole last part makes me want to cry. I know how people get into this shit now. I'm beginning to understand what it means to never be able to have what you always dreamed of having--never be able to do what you dreamed of doing. I'm beginning to understand why people give in and give up. I've never been one to just give up. But it's like any other bad habit: The more you do it, the easier it gets. I gave up on myself last October. I just couldn't take it anymore. And I've never just given up like that before. But it was easier than letting myself get hurt every single day. And maybe it was the right thing to do. I've met people I never would have otherwise. But maybe it hurt me as well. And maybe there's no point in saying if it was the right thing or not because good and bad things would have happened either way. And that's the way everything goes, I guess.

I don't feel like I'm ever going to be able to wrap my head around my own existence. That sounds fun in some ways, but I'd at least like to know I've got a handle on myself. For some reason, my brain started singing "I'm a Little Teapot."

It's so hard to work in a place where I really don't know if I can talk about my life without feeling like a freak show. It's not that I'm certain that I'm being perceived that way, but I fear that's all that people in the straight world are going to see. That's a pretty common fear, yes. I almost said that I wish it didn't bother me, but fuck that. It does bother me. It should bother me. It bothers me as much as the principal who told me it was my fault that other kids treated me the way they did because of the way I looked and acted. It's not my fault that other people are closed-minded. It's not my fault that they can't see what I have seen. And that's not a bad thing. Nobody else has the experience that I have. Sometimes, people just don't know. But it just gets so tiring after a while. I understand what you meant about feeling burnt out with activism. But I can still feel that in me. I get fired up when I hear about certain injustices. And I don't know what that means for what I'll be doing for the rest of my life, but I suspect that it will play a very large role whether I plan on it or not.

If I'm an asshole, it's not because I'm trans. It's because I'm an asshole. Don't make it about anything that it's not. My failures are not related to my trans identity. And many of my successes aren't. I guess that depends on what successes we're talking about, but I think you get the point. This fact of my life is not relevant when talking about sucking at my job or being late, etc, etc.

Maybe I'll start feeling connected now that all of my younger friends are back in town. Maybe that will help. I'm going to start repeating myself soon. Or maybe I can at least find something else to talk about. I just started thinking about how my contacts are in the case with the solution that requires you to wait six hours before putting your lenses back in your eyes. It hasn't been six hours. This really frustrates me right now.

I just remembered that I'm going to have to start paying for a bus pass. That's another 90 dollars a month. I'm going to be working at this fucking job that I can't even stand, and I won't have a fucking penny to show for it. I really can't take this. Not at all.

Various Points

What the fuck am I? And that’s a question that has nothing to do with my gender identity whatsoever. My friend pointed something out to me last night that I probably already knew, but it’s quite different when someone else can say it, has noticed it, and hasn’t been fooled by your trying to hide it. Graduation didn’t alleviate any of my stress or solve my problems. It only magnified them because it terrified me. No longer subject to strict deadlines or specific goals, I’m floundering out here in what most people would consider the “real world”. Not having something around which my life can be structured is really getting me down, and it’s making me much less productive than I’m comfortable admitting. I’ve been looking for external sources to provide me with enough stability to manage my life and the issues associated with it, but he is right in that I really should have an internal source. But I’ve just gone without so many of the things I am used to and “need” that I’m not sure how to get back to the point of having an internal reserve. I’m always fighting to keep my tank above empty, and I do indeed remember times when that wasn’t the case, and it makes me feel like crap to know that I have let myself get to this point. I have let myself become dependent and have sought out relationships in which that is an acceptable form of behavior. I know that I need to be able to survive on my own, but perhaps that isn’t enough. I need to be able to thrive on my own, and that isn’t happening. That’s far from happening. I know I need help, but I am never able to express myself this way when I have to speak to another person, so I feel like I’m never really getting the message across when I talk to my therapist. I want her to know everything, and I know that isn’t possible, and the things that I do pick sometimes aren’t the right ones.
Learning the difference between being aggressive and assertive…
This is tough for me. I used to be a much more aggressive person, and I was very proud of the fact that I believed I was right, would say so in less than tactful ways, and it didn’t matter how anyone else felt about something because as long as I knew I was right, that was all that mattered. Truth was valued above all else, even the people with whom I was closest. I still value the truth. I still value the right thing and doing the best that I can, but I have a different appreciation and respect for the feelings of other human beings these days. But I think that when I realized how my aggressive behavior was affecting the people around me, I shot so far in the other direction—became so passive—that I almost never said what I needed to say. And people began to take advantage of that, and I let them because I thought I was being a nice person. I was irritated when no one listened to me, but why would they? I didn’t have enough confidence in myself to get others to have confidence in me. And I let that go on and on. Over the past two years, I’ve gotten much better at being assertive when I need to be, but I haven’t been perfect, and I know there have been really important times when I have failed, and I have let myself and others down. And people find it hard to trust me because of these mistakes, I assume. I know that I’m getting there. But it’s slow, and it’s painful, and I could use a little feedback every once in a while. But I don’t have that. I don’t have that other person, and it all goes back to the dependency thing now that I think about it. I need not to need that.
It’s hard to drag myself out of bed when I don’t technically have to be anywhere. That seems like it fits more with what I was talking about originally, but I don’t feel like moving it. This is just how things happened, and my writing is going to stay true to that.
I want to write letters. But it’s hard to write them by hand. But I don’t want people to feel bad because I’ve typed them out. I’m not saying that I would do that all the time, but I feel like I can be much more personal this way, paradoxically. I spend less time thinking about the writing of the words when they come out so quickly, and my thoughts just flow better. And it might be easier on the eyes anyway. My handwriting does deteriorate pretty rapidly when I get so far into a letter.
I wonder if my parents are disappointed in me for not going to school any longer. I mean, I probably will do more in the future, but I don’t think that has to be right now, but it seems like everyone else thinks that. I don’t know what my life is going to be. I know I’m going to be letting a lot of people down. What am I now? I’m a stage performer. And I’m broke. I have two degrees in ridiculous disciplines, and I have not been able to use those skills at all in a way that employers would find marketable. I’m not in med school, grad school, or working some snooty academic job.
Should I be?

Boring Shit

I finally gained access to my grades from this past semester, and they weren't that great. Actually, they pretty much sucked, and by that I mean I got a few B+'s, an A+, and a D+. I've never done that poorly in school, and I don't give a shit. I graduated with over a 3.8 even with that hideous blemish on my transcript, and now I have two degrees that aren't really doing much for me right now, are they? I also managed to sort out the problem with the reimbursements from the Pitt show, which means I should have a sizable check coming my way next week, which will probably go to pay bills that should have been paid a long time ago, meaning I will still have absolutely no money.
I haven't really had a break from drag in weeks, and I really don't mind. I don't do much otherwise, aside from going to the gym and playing with my band once a week. When I go to practice, I am with my friends, and I feel like I'm doing something productive and being social at the same time. It just sucks when I have to come home and be alone again. Everyone else that was there tonight went to be with someone else afterwards. I'm getting stuck on that sentence--on that thought. I just want to cry. I'm a huge sap. What can I say?
Being by myself hasn't been all bad. It's obvious that I just need that sometimes. But I want to be able to choose it. I don't work well when that's my default. And there is a great bit of difference between being alone and being lonely. And I feel like I am lonely all the time or close to it. And it's not even overwhelming a majority of the time. It's just something that's always there. Just something that makes me sigh a little bit. Knowing that things aren't going to change any time soon isn't helping. Knowing that I don't stand a chance is definitely not helping.
Maybe it's living with other people when I'm alone that I am not good at. I mean, even when I lived with housemates before, I was with someone, and I had that connection. I wasn't really alone. We were together almost every night anyway. It's so weird, but I feel so much less trapped when I'm with another person. I don't know why I choose to keep writing about this because it means that I'm choosing to subject you to it again. I suppose this is just my way of processing, and I feel like the people who actually care enough to read this are the people to whom I need to communicate these thoughts anyway. If other people happen to read it, I'm fine with that. I do have my secrets, but I'm not afraid of the repercussions of revealing myself in this way. And I have been doing a lot better since I've been writing more. But no one wants to talk about it anymore. At the end of the day, I'm in my bed alone. And I wake up alone. And sometimes there's just no motivation to leave. I was supposed to get up early today again, and I didn't. I keep wondering how much of this being alone thing is my fault. I feel like I will know when I can be with someone pretty quickly, and I finally got to that point a few weeks ago (or maybe it actually has been much longer, as one of my friends believes), but now I am kicking myself every time I start letting my mind wander down that path. But I also feel that I'm terrible at hiding my emotions for an extending period of time, and I probably slip up a lot, and everyone notices, and then I look really dumb. But I look dumb a lot of the time, so maybe not.

I cleaned the bathroom today, and I actually felt really good while doing it. Part of it is having some clearly defined task and seeing it through to completion. But I think that reminded me of what it felt like to clean my own bathroom back at Dawson. I felt like I was home again for a little while, and it was extraordinarily calming. I get weird when cleaning because I like knowing that it's okay if I move or touch something that isn't mine. I think I have a really hard time accomplishing a cleaning task when that isn't the case. There is the possibility that I can move to a place that doesn't have any rent, which would mean I would feel much less guilty about my situation, but I fear that I would have the same issues, and this would be living with a person I just met and several people that I don't really know. That's going to take a lot, but I will be meeting them soon and hanging out with them. And it would be in an area that's much closer to everywhere that I need to be at any point in my current life. It's something I have to think about. And I guess I should probably see the place first. Maybe I just need to have control over something in my life. Maybe I just need to make that choice because having that ability would feel great. I don't know. I really don't know what I need right now in terms of a living situation, at least not entirely.

It makes sense. I don't entirely know what I am doing with my life right now. The problem is that I think I need to sort out the other matters before I'll really know that. And I don't know how long that is going to take. I really hope someplace just fucking calls me back about a job already. This is getting to be kind of absurd. I need to find something before the summer is over.

I just started thinking about how fast I was typing. I used to marvel at the way my mom could type. It seemed so fast, and I didn't understand how anyone could do it without looking at the keys. It took me a lot longer to be able to do that confidently, and I still occasionally look down to check myself, even though I probably don't have to. But it was just something that very slowly developed into what it is now--my typing ability. I probably type much faster than my mom at this point. I can generally move pretty quickly, no matter what it is that I'm doing, so that only makes sense.

I need to make some decisions. I hate that.

I don't know how it got to be this late. I'm freaking out about tomorrow because I need to run through a number with someone. I actually need to be awake early tomorrow. I should sleep then, it seems. Sorry this wasn't much of an interesting post. I'll think of something fun for next time.