it’s 5:42 am
as the title suggests I’m writing this or beginning it at 5:42 am. This is more of a test than what can be considered the first entry of hopefully many if we take into account I may get bored(?…)
but I’ll preface by saying where I am in the universe right now, and what I want. I start classes in about 2 days now in my 3rd year, still on my psychology major path but hoping to switch into Nursing. Nursing’s a cool field. I have a lot of relatives in the psychiatric nursing path and maybe it can be the best of both worlds for me so I have to get on that..
i’m 5 months on testosterone down to the day, almost. I like to switch between capitalization and lowercase in the middle of sentences, let me preface that before someone reading points it out and thinks it’s odd. Testosterone’s changed me in a lot of ways I didn’t think were possible.. I grew a bit which is huge news for me. I’ve also stabilized in mood a lot which is probably the best part about being on it other than me masculinizing myself in real time. I feel more confident speaking now too because of my voice.
Other than that life is boring but not bad. Dreary but not hopelessly soul crushing and depressing. I live with someone on my mind everyday, I eat 2 meals. I sleep a lot more than I should - I play games. I fall into thinking patterns I can’t get out of. Then the cycle begins anew! i’ve had it worse so I’ll relish in the peace I have now that I’ve been wanting for so long. Although a part of my brain that’s so wired on chaos and negativity wants it back. Who am I as a person without instability really? I’ve come to figure out I have a lot of questions I need to ask myself, a lot of self-realization left to do that I’ve been on the task of doing for quite a bit now. I’ve changed a lot, actually; let me use the word settled, in the past year. grew into my own skin and ripped it apart to allow the me nestled inside that always existed but was never allowed to flourish. And it’s nice. It’s nice to not fake (- but even then it was real. Two things can coexist including your ego states. Who am I to say those me’s weren’t real? Who am I to deny them that plausibility and realness?) aspects of yourself so you’re liked more. It’s nice to just not care if the whole world hates you because it’s not like the world was ever going to be fair anyway.
I don’t like who I am still but I’m figuring it out. The air’s clear so I get to do that now. My mind secretly wishes for chaos because it’s all I know - I’ve never not lived it - so I have an excuse to live in ignorance; worrying about nonissues. Then I won’t have to go through the discomfort and pain of stabilizing yourself as a “person”: something I’ve never identified with and probably never will. Stabilized myself identity wise doesn’t sound right either, because while I have one it is subject to change. Everything changes. The internet gives everyone a fake sense of belonging and identity. Labels, what have you. Ego farming is so easy here. What you show, what you are, what you want to be. What you suppress to fit in with others even if it doesn’t define you. If it’s not the real you and through bullshittery, it becomes a part of you. Congrats, you’re a fake human being! Just like everyone, I became another faceless being in the crowd: a knitted quilt of remnants of my “real” self and my “not so real” self mixed with labels that seemed too constricting or way too loose. Exacerbating personality traits like a stock character. To be an entertainer at the expense of everything I ever was as a person and my own wellbeing. Give up your authenticity to become liked. What a miserable way to live and it only took losing everything for me to realize. But what becomes a part of you never truly leaves, so the fake becomes real. And you have to learn to live with that, and fall back into the abyss of self-realization - unlearn shame, to pull the remnants of who you really are. And that’s terrifying. I’ve always been pretty scared of this idea of “identity” that the world cares about so much. But I’m making something of myself and picking up the pieces and I feel more ”me” now than I ever have.
… so what’s the word I do use here? To exist, finally. Without caring about others’ opinions of me, what they say think or do or my own self-destruction digging a hole near impossible to get out of. The instability I grew to latch onto for stability. It’s lonely all the way at the bottom.
I had to die to exist in the real world and I think everyone should die too.