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zanderism · 7 years

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Usually I don’t post about my transition or anything unless it’s an important occasion, so here goes. Bear with me.

TL;DR– My gender therapist appointment is tomorrow. Yikes.

I’ve been out of the closet and I’ve been very active in the LGBT+ community since the seventh grade, but as a transgender man, I’ve only been out for two years (July 2015). This is such a nerve-wracking time in my life. I hope I can properly put it into words in a way that makes sense. I didn’t think I’d be here, in the early hours of the day, writing about just how gay I am. We all do things on a whim sometimes. That being said, here’s a huge, gay timeline of how I came out.

If you had asked me years ago if I could ever see myself in the position I’m in currently, I’d have told you no. Let me describe my life during my childhood, and the drastic change in morality, mentality, and maturity. Years before I began my transition to male, I had no idea what the term “transgender” was, or what it meant. This was around 6th grade, when a new chapter of my life had already began and I started making new friends (nearly all of which I still are very close to) and began learning things on my own.

Please note– when I entered middle school, I was very uneducated, and socially inept; I was an insensitive child to others who were not like me. I was a hard-headed Christian girl– I’d even go as far as to say the homophobic type. Needless to say, my mother was the same way. I learned directly and religiously from her, and if God didn’t approve, that’s how it had to be. I used to be a very, very shitty person. I threw around slurs that didn’t belong to me, and forced an ideology on other children and people who didn’t deserve it. I used to be on the same spectrum I despise today. While it is something I cannot take back, it is something I do think about a lot as a man who has faced persecution for things I cannot control, and has allowed me to see things from a perspective that showed me that what I did and how I acted was very, very wrong, and to put it bluntly, ignorant. I wish I could go back in time and apologize to those people I wronged, and show them I’ve educated myself since.

Around this time of being right with Jesus, even if I was doing it wrong, I met a girl– we’ll call her B, as to keep her involved but indirectly. She was Christian like me, and we found solace in our way of relating through worship. We’d spend the night at each other’s houses and relish in the company. Her father helped me learn to play drums; if it hadn’t been for him I would probably not have ever gotten started in music. Her brother and I often traded Pokemon cards, and played together. She and I were inseparable. At the same time, I met another girl– if you’re a long-time viewer of this half-dead blog, you can probably remember her (She’ll be C). She and I also became very close, and we still are to this day. She helped me view the world in a much different perspective, and helped me become a lot more open-minded, considerate, and mindful. She was probably one of the greatest people who could have ever came into my life at the time. From there I began learning things like what the LGBT+ acronym stood for, and what the letters meant, and what life was like for people in the community. It was a very interesting experience and a very eye-opening time of my life for me. Later on down the road, I began feeling very, very confused, and became very conflicted with the way I felt about her. I caught feelings for her, and that statement itself took eons for me to accept about myself. It kept me up at night, and it made me question if this was okay or not– in my home life, in my religion, and in my head.

I finally took the courage to tell my friend(s) the truth in hopes of finding reassurance and affirmation. I told C first; bluntly and openly. I remember the surroundings– It was in the office at our middle school during lunch time. “I think I’m bisexual.” She simply looked at me, smiled at me, and gave me a hug, and was on her merry way back to class. The first sign of acceptance from ANYONE close to me was from her, and I’ll never forget that moment of my life.

The next step was telling B– the truly scary part. I knew how she felt about gay people, let alone bisexual people. When I told her I was bisexual she was very confused. She didn’t think there were some “middle ground”, or that one could feel attraction to both men and women. Later on in our friendship she claimed I wasn’t really bisexual, and that I only did it for attention because “everyone else was doing it”. I was hurt by this, even more so because I knew what drove her to say that– her devotion to the scripture. I realize that the Bible says literally nothing about LGBT+ people in it now, but back then I was horrified. All the fellow Christian people I became close to felt the same way. It really made me think, “Wow. Do I really sound like this? Is this how I treat people?” I could only imagine how my mother and father would react when they found out I felt attraction to another girl, let alone my little sister. I had never felt so alone in my life.

I met other girls who were openly bisexual later on, many of which expressed their attraction to me. I remember being mid-conversation with B, and one of my older friends who felt comfortable being openly LGBT+ walked by me, said hello, and in front of God and everyone in that room with us, kissed me on the mouth. I didn’t express that I wanted her to, or ever show interest in her the way she showed interest in me; she simply just kissed me and walked away like it was nothing. I didn’t mind it, but I didn’t expect it.

B simply grimaced and walked away. Eventually, she stopped being my friend. I later found out it was because I was bi.

That was the line for me. That was the point in my life when I told myself, “Something has to give. Something has to change.” I had to do better, not just for myself, but for my friends and the people who loved me. I openly expressed my feelings for C often, humorously to no avail (which was definitely for the best. It would have been weird.). This “crush” ended after five years. I was okay with seeing other men, and being honest about what happened and being honest about my sexuality. After all the “that’s kinda hot” replies and “threesome?” jokes– and to my own amazement, actual offers– I eventually stopped feeling sorry about being myself. I was out to my friends, my boyfriends, and later on, girlfriends; I was content in myself enough to trust others with my sexuality.

My boyfriend at the time (who currently deeply resents me, one of the reasons being that I began my transition (I don’t feel any sympathy)) and I were talking about my identity and my (at the time) feelings for my friend. He felt like we were at a crossroads, and that it was one or the other. This wasn’t a face-to-face conversation, it was over Messenger. My entire family was home and in the room with me– which I didn’t mind, because they’re my family, and even if I was still closeted I wasn’t suspicious that they knew. My sister had her friend over as well; she was spending the night. Little did I know, my mother had peered over my shoulder, and was reading my messages. She walked in front of me to tell me goodnight, and she bent over and pretended to kiss me goodnight while looking at my screen. I jerked my iPad back, and she jerked it out of my hands. She then looked up at me with a disdain I’ve never seen in her before, and she questioned when I was going to tell her. I immediately broke down and told her the truth. “I’m tired of hiding who I am,” I cried. “I’m bisexual, Mom. I like girls and boys. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was scared.” I felt like a killer giving a testimony to a jury that had plenty of evidence to consider me a guilty man (girl?). My dad turned around in his computer chair and watched my mom’s reaction. He said, “I don’t think this is an appropriate time to talk about this.” She shook her head and said, “We will discuss this tomorrow.” With that, she gave me my iPad back, and went to bed. I cried in front of everyone in that room for God knows how long. My sister and her friend later on confided in me that they didn’t feel any different about me, and in fact had respect for me for having the courage to be myself. As reassuring as their message was, I couldn’t help but feel sick to my stomach—my mother forced me to come out in front of everybody in the house.

I dreaded going to sleep that night. I didn’t want to get up and face the next day. I was absolutely petrified of what my mom was going to say, or do.

She pulled me into her room. We sat down on her bed. She was so, so angry at me. She told me she didn’t understand it. She told me that Jesus didn’t permit this sort of “behavior”. She said she was disappointed in me, and she really was, for a really long time. She said she loved me, but couldn’t support my “decision”. In other words, “love the sinner, but hate the sin”. I wondered for a long time why that was, and I always figured it was because of religion. In truth, we have a lot of LGBT folks in our family, particularly women. Her sister was a lesbian, and I found out later on that my Nana (her mom; bless her soul) fell out with her over the same thing. I have several gay cousins, and my other cousin’s wife is bisexual. There were so many of us in her life already; it made me wonder how much prejudice could come from someone who had others like me in her life already. I thought about how she may have felt towards them, and how I would have been any different.

It was like this for years. This homophobia from my mom chased me from one house to the next. When my parents finally separated, my mom moved to her own house, and my dad eventually shared a trailer with a very charitable man (who, in turn, happened to be gay too. May irony never escape us.), and he did work for his trailer when he needed it in exchange for extra money. My mawmaw had to come live with us for a while as well, and she’s always accepted me since day one. My sister began to pick up on the things my mom would say and how she would treat me differently. My mother and I fought very, very often about the same exact things—me being bisexual, the differences between my sister and I, and religion. She would hardly ever let my girl friends (note: not significant others) come over to spend the night. She called me out whenever I called a girl attractive or expressed an attraction to another girl. I remember being so depressed over this I couldn’t get out of bed, and wouldn’t see my family and friends for days at a time unless it was my sister and my mom coming upstairs to prepare for bed. I remember telling my mom how I felt about the way she treated me, crying in bed with her sitting on the opposite side. Believe me, I’ve heard just about every trope in the world from not only her, but lots of other people, ranging from “You’re going to hell” to “You just haven’t found the right man yet”, but the worst possible one I ever heard came directly from my mother: “Maybe God will change you, in time.”

I wish I could properly detail my mother’s shitty tendencies during that time. It was an awful time for all of us. I was brainwashed into thinking I hated my father, when I had just been playing into what my mother would tell me. It was absolutely sickening. It took me literal months to realize that my dad had been supporting me all this time. He had never once shown any sort of prejudice against me for being who I am, and he held my hand whenever my mom berated me, even if I didn’t want him to. I told myself he wasn’t good, and that he was doing it to win me over, but his heart was genuine and I hate that it took me so long to welcome him back into my life. I found myself constantly coming to him about the things my mother would say, or act, or do; I began to trust him all over again. Through him I learned more about accepting myself, and taking care of myself, even when it was hard to tune out my mother.

My mental health was at its worst state it’s ever been in. I had no energy, I couldn’t sleep at night, my grades dropped, and I was constantly depressed and anxious. At the time, my mother’s homophobia was just the tip of the iceberg of what was happening in my life, so I don’t necessarily blame my mother’s ignorance solely for how I felt. It was just a role in how I felt; a factor in my life alongside the bigger picture of what was happening. Eventually, I moved out because I got sick of her attitude, and her abusive nature towards me just because I happened to be bisexual. I confessed to my mom and dad both that my mental health had been lacking and I felt miserable because of the situation at hand as well as my mom’s homophobia, and my dad helped me pack and move that night.

After I moved out, I started being more positive and feeling a lot better than I ever did before—I was sleeping and eating better, I didn’t stay in bed for days at a time, I felt much more confident than I did before, and I was free to express myself any way I wanted to without persecution on a day to day basis. My father allowed me to be my own person again. He was always there for me, and he still is today, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am for him and his continuous love and support.

I never did have a girlfriend in middle school because I was way too scared to express that openly, but it wasn’t until high school that I began experimenting. My first girlfriend was quite the experience—she was much taller than me, much prettier than I was, and had long blonde hair. She had texted me out of the blue telling me how beautiful she thought I was, and she expressed her interest in me. We began flirting, and we eventually started dating. We were together for four months, and she eventually grew tired of me and left me for one of my friends. It hurt like crazy—I had never felt as strongly for any man as I did for her. I had never trusted a person the way I trusted her. I let her see the side of me I couldn’t show anybody else. I felt I could relate to her the most, as she came from a very religious family that condemned LGBT+ people, too. It got to the point where her mother actually hated me, but that’s beside the point.

It was after her that I began to really sit down and evaluate myself and how I could have done things differently—and what differentiated the way I felt for her and the way I felt for other men. I didn’t understand why I felt stronger for women than I did for men. Did I develop a preference? Maybe it was because I had JUST gotten out of a relationship with my first girlfriend that had me feeling the way I did, but from that point on I knew in my gut I was gay somehow. I had only dated men in the past, and I felt like it made my identity invalid because I had never experienced a relationship with a member of the same gender; I came to find out that wasn’t the truth at all, and that my experiences as a bi girl with more men than women in her past were just as valid as if it were the other way around. Eventually I would come out as a lesbian after being with other girls, and finding myself to be more comfortable around them than men, even if I found them attractive. I connected with other LGBT+ boys and girls in my school, and it became a very supportive and accepting environment aside from the occasional straight boy throwing slurs at me or harassing me—even then, I had an outpouring of support from my friends, the LGBT+ community in my school, and my family.

It was also after her that I began to reevaluate my relationship with Christianity. I didn’t feel comfortable labeling myself as a Christian after the whole she-bang with my homophobic mother who used our religion to bash me into hating myself. I stopped calling myself a Christian, and I had stopped praying long before this. On my own time I became an atheist, out of comfort for me. I don’t believe in God, but I’m not the one to bash people for being Christian, or shove that belief in anyone’s faces. I have in the past, and regret doing so; I was so resentful that my mother did this that I made no difference between her and every Christian person I met, and I hate that I was so confrontational and reactionary then. I have many regrets in this life, and this is probably one of the biggest ones.

Throughout school, I learned so much about how wondrous the LGBT+ community was for me, and how it treated me so kindly and warmly. It was very reaffirming and to a huge extent, welcoming. I learned about other identities like pansexuality, demisexuality, and asexuality, and so many more. During this time I joined an app called Vent and learned about nonbinary identities— gender identities that aren’t strictly male or female. Here is where I met and dated a nonbinary person despite identifying as a lesbian. This raised a huge red flag: lesbians dated women, and my partner did not identify as female, but presented female. What did this mean if I felt comfortable dating people outside the gender binary, AND women? I concluded I was pansexual at this point (if I had a dollar for every time I either debated changing my sexuality, or changed my sexuality as a whole throughout this timeline, I’d be a billionaire.) not only out of respect for my partner but as it was a more fitting label for me. I was hesitant on being with men, and I still am to this day if they aren’t like me, but was comfortable enough in my identity to know I still found men attractive.

As aforementioned, I joined Vent as a way to express myself without anyone in my life finding out (update: they did anyway). I met lots of amazing people there and I still use the app on a semi-regular basis. I brought this back up to mention someone very important in my life—we’ll call her R. She’s genderfluid, and she doesn’t live in my state. She and I have known each other for two years, and she’s currently my closest friend. We dated for seven months and despite the distance we’ve still made time for each other; she helped me through some of the biggest moments in my life. Not all, but some of the biggest defining moments. She knew me before I began transitioning, and she helped me and supported me through and through (C did as well, and I’ve known C much longer, but despite us being as close as we are, we don’t talk or see each other as often as we used to. C and R are two of the best people I’ve ever met). She’s funny, and very cute, and super radical. She’s wonderful company and I brag about her to just about anybody I come across.

I remember going back to my mom’s after the horror show she put me through. I was borderline ready to disown her and keep her out of my life entirely. I was very, very avoidant and skittish; my mother made me extremely nervous. When I was finally comfortable around my mother again, I began making sense of what happened and why, and where it resonated from. What I didn’t expect was my mother pulling my sister and me into the kitchen, sitting us down, and giving us a thorough talk. I felt like I had been played, and I felt like she was mocking me. She admitted her attraction to another woman, and that was her way of apologizing to me for the way she treated me. I was flabbergasted, and not in a positive way. I was angry, and so, so confused (if I could choose a default feeling when describing how I felt about my mom it would be confused). I felt like she was downplaying the entire situation and belittling me. She HAD to have been joking; I was in denial for a very long time. Her and her girlfriend got engaged yesterday. I didn’t forgive her for what felt like eons. If I think about it hard enough, it was a half-assed apology, and I sometimes still get angry over it.

I was living with my dad at the time I began addressing my gender. I remember being on Facebook and watching this video of women becoming drag kings, and people expressing their pride in their own identities. I have this hat my cousin gave me, and I had it on my computer desk at the time. I remember slipping it on and folding my hair up into it, and taking my glasses off. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; my long hair was already annoying as is, so it was nice to get it out of the way anyway. I looked much more masculine without my long hair, and I felt more comfortable looking masculine but didn’t think of it as anything more than a superstition. It wasn’t long till I decided to cut off all my hair, and I haven’t regretted it since. My dad cried when I cut my hair off; he couldn’t stand to watch it happen. It hurt me that I made him cry, but it was so liberating to literally have all that weight off my shoulders.

I identified as genderfluid for a short period of time, and preferred they/them pronouns primarily. I don’t exactly like to talk about this period of my life, particularly for me because it was the only time my father showed any sort of prejudice against my identity. It makes me uncomfortable to think about, and doesn’t really have any significance in who I am. It’s not that I find it’s an invalid identity, because of course it’s valid, and real. I support any and all people of any identity, be it genderfluid or cisgender. I just don’t consider it important in terms of my transition or the timeline of me coming out.

I came out as trans to my dad in one of the most generic ways possible. It was in the McDonald’s drive-thru picking up dinner. I was talking to him about how my mom was seeing a woman after being so abusive to me in the past about me being gay. I asked him, “Will you refer to me as your son?” He just looked at me through the rear-view mirror and nodded and asked me what I wanted to order. It was the easiest thing that I faced involving coming to terms with my identity. He respected me when I told him my name: Zander Tobias. He’s called me Z ever since. I came straight home and told my mom I was transgender and I was NOT about to take any shit from her about it. I didn’t expect her to be so open and accepting about it. I was under the impression that she learned her lesson about being intolerant. She’s supported me ever since, and has never once misgendered me or misnamed me. It took her little to no time at all to memorize my name and my pronouns. She’s been very good to me in terms of my gender identity, and has since changed her ways about my sexual orientation. She respects me 100%, even if it took her a long time to learn from her mistakes.

It’s now been two years since I came out as transgender. I truly never thought I’d be here making this. I’m glad I didn’t give up years ago, and I’m glad I’m here with all my wonderful friends and family. I have my brothers, my sisters, my mom and stepmom, and my dad and stepmom, as well as a whole bunch of step-grandparents and biological grandparents who love me, cherish me, and support me for who I am. I couldn’t be more proud and appreciative I am of my genuine, loving family.

What does this have to do with my gender therapy?? Good question, Z!

My family would never have permitted me to do this years ago. In fact, if it weren’t for my stepmom (on my Dad’s side), I never would have been able to have a gender therapist appointment in the first place. Hormones would have been out of the question had it been years ago and it came down to my mom. My transition is so, so, so important to me, and my family realizes this, and cherishes me throughout the process. I would have never made it this far. It goes to show how lucky a guy can be, and how fortunate someone like me is for having such a wonderful family like mine.

I wanted to do this to give thanks and show my importance to the people who make a difference in my life, and the people who have helped me in my transition, before and well after—even people like B.

To any friends who may read this one day, thank you for everything you have ever done for me. Whether you’ve supported me through my darkest times, called me out on my pretentious bullshit, or showed me that it does get better eventually, you have made such an incredible impact on my life. I couldn’t have done it without you. I love you so much.

To R and C, I cherish you completely. Thank you for picking me up when I was down and showing me that I’m valid, and loving me for who I am. You are incredible people, and I hope that you never forget just how much you mean to me. I love y’all endlessly, and I hope that we stay as close as we are in the future. My life would be so, so boring and incomplete without you. You guys mean the world to me.

To my family who may read this, thank you, too. Especially my mom. You’ve learned so, so much for me, and grown into such beautiful supportive people. You do everything you humanly can to make sure I feel safe, comfortable, and loved at home. I cannot possibly tell you how much I love you, appreciate you, and cherish you for doing the things you do for me. You help me feel better about myself each and every day. I could not ask for a better family. Thank you so much.

Finally, to B, and to people like her. I hope you find your peace, and I hope that one day you meet someone that changes your perspective entirely, so that you may embrace diversity regardless of religion, gender identity, or sexual orientation. Thanks for being a friend, even if it was for a short time. I’m okay, and I hope you are as well.

ANYWAY… if you read all the way to the bottom, you’re a champ! Congrats! This was a hell of a rollercoaster to type out let alone get off my chest. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you at least enjoyed it a little bit; and if not that’s okay too. (Feel free to ask me any questions if you feel like it, or if I need to clear anything up.)

I hope tomorrow goes smoothly. Wish me good luck!

#transition #transgender #trans man #personal #me #family #abuse #homophobia #shut up zander #long post #tldr

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homo-sapiens-agenda · 6 years

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Good (very early) morning, my lovelies!

Before we get into this, I’d like to quickly address why I always post so late/early at night. Simply put, it’s because that’s when I have time to post. I know that sounds obvious and stupid, but I felt like it’s something that should be addressed up front. Once school starts back up again, my schedule may change, so I will be adjusting according to that in the future. Until then, though, late night/early morning is when I post.

Now that that’s been said, let’s talk about something that’s been on my mind a lot recently: acceptance. I’m not just talking acceptance of the LGBT+ community, I’m talking about acceptance WITHIN the community. We need to work on accepting and respecting what labels each of us use, or don’t use, to define ourselves. Personally, I choose to define my sexual orientation as bisexual, but I also have a tendency to be generally more attracted to the opposite sex. I am unquestionably attracted to members of my same sex, too, but I am attracted to members of the opposite sex more often than those of the same sex. (Disclaimer: I recognize that there are more than two genders, and I also recognize that there are groups that would prefer to not be referred to as a separate gender.) But, I have also been told by a few individuals that because I’m more attracted to members of the opposite sex than those of the same sex that I identify as, then I’m not truly bisexual. I’ve also been told that if I truly feel that I have the ability to be attracted to all genders, sexes, people, etc., then I should stop identifying myself as bisexual and start telling people that I’m pansexual. If I do that, though, am I really defining who I am, or am I letting someone else define me? Personally, I’m a big believer that bisexual covers all genders in it’s definition. I mean, the colors of the flag all represent something: the blue, obviously the masculine attraction (for lack of a better term); the pink, the feminine attraction; and the purple, the attraction to the non-binary members of society. So when somebody tells me to identify as pansexual, I ask them why when bisexual is already a way of defining that way. And again, when somebody asks me if I’m truly bisexual when I tell them I’m oftentimes more attracted to men than others, it truly offends me that they don’t seem to have respect for the way I’ve chosen to define myself. I’ve also noticed that members of the transgender community don’t always receive the respect they deserve from the other members of the LGBT+ community, and I believe that so much of that grows from an initial ignorance of what they already are going through. As much as many of us would like to believe that we have a pretty decent idea of what the members of our community go through, sometimes we forget to take a moment to actually ask each other what they are feeling within the community. As I understand it, sometimes people will exclude transgender men or women from another aspect of the lesbian or gay parts of the acronym because they are transgender. Why do we do that, though? I’m not saying it’s all of us that do it, and I’m not trying to call out any individuals, I just want to understand why some people carry resentment or hate towards people who just want to be accepted like them. We need to learn to and get better at respecting and accepting each other so that we can influence those outside the community to respect and accept us, too.

Thank you so much, my lovelies. I love you all, and I’m sorry I’m so long-winded. I just want to make others understand, and writing through things helps me understand some things, too. So, just remember that you are loved, you are accepted, and we just need to remember to respect how everyone chooses to label, or not label, themselves.

Goodnight, my lovelies. Sleep tight and sweet dreams to you all.

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felix-oni · 7 years

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The Marriage Equality Debate, and Me

So, it's been awhile since I last wrote anything on here, which is disappointing because I LOVE to write. So, I decided that I need to start actually using this account for it's intended purpose - putting my thoughts and ideas out into the world. I did do my 'coming out' story on here, which was cool, I guess, but I want to do more than that. Right now I'm feeling less than amazing due to current debate going on in my country of citizenship - Australia. I'm quite a political person - mostly because of the fact that I am always trying to make the world a better place for the less-fortunate or other minority groups. I volunteer for my local MP whom is a lovely lady and a member of the Australian Labor Party. I enjoy volunteering for her, it allows me to do my bit to help change happen for the better and also meet new like-minded friends. I'm also a part of the student run LGBTIQA+ group at my local Uni, who not only organises events and such to raise money and awareness of the rights (or lack thereof) of those people, but also have a weekly chat/therapy session for those that need it. I have needed it these past couple of months, not only did my marriage end (for a lot of reasons, but I ended it in my side due to my finally admitting my sexuality) and I end up in the psych ward for a couple of weeks (long story, another time) but I also found myself too terrified to talk to certain loved ones because I knew what they would say about my way of dealing with everything happening in my life. I still have suicidal thoughts at least once a day, I miss talking to certain loved ones aforementioned, I miss my puppy that I had to re-home for his benefit and as much as I hate to say it, I miss my marriage. Not because I still want to be with him, but because I was with him for a third of my entire life so far (7.5 years) and I miss the feeling of always having a best friend to talk to, to cry or laugh with, at ridiculous hours like 4am after a long, amazing night of playing video games. I miss knowing that I was relied on and I could rely on someone of my own. That feeling is a big part of why I am fighting so hard for Marriage Equality right now. I'm still legally married myself as I need to save up to file for divorce, which I can't do until after a year of separation, anyway. I know what it feels like to be married. The feeling you get when you stand up in front of your closest friends and family to promise each other that you will be there through the good AND bad. Signing that piece of paper. That truly amazing feeling of being loved, unconditionally, and loving them back. But also, the feeling of knowing that if either one of us ever got sick or the worst happened, I would not only have a say in their treatment/funeral, etc, but I would be THE voice. I, the one that they had told everything to. The one they had shared all their hopes and fears and secrets with, who knows them better than anyone else in the world, would have the deciding voice to make sure their rights and mine as their wife, would be upheld by the law and I would not be pushed aside like I meant nothing. Although my first marriage didn't work out, I want my right to marry the one I love to remain. If I find a lovely lady and fall in love and we want to get married and spend the rest of our lives together, I want to be able to legally do that. Even more importantly, I want my gay and lesbian, bisexual, transgender and gender-fluid friends to be able to have that right as well. I don't want my friends to ever have to worry about if they will be heard if their partner is sick or dying. I don't want their estranged families to take over any treatment or funeral plans just because they are blood. I want my friends to have the right that all heterosexual people in Australia have right now. Because to deny that fundamental human right to someone just because they happened to be born with attraction and love for the same sex, is just wrong. Especially the conservative people who say about the religious side of things, just because you believe something, it doesn't mean everybody else has to. You may be on a diet, but that doesn't mean you should be allowed to stop me from eating a chocolate chip cookie. Take a tip from Tiny Tina (Borderlands 2) "Real Badasses Eat Chocolate Chip Cookies!" and maybe apply that sort of thinking to the Marriage Equality debate, "Real Badasses Let Everyone Have Their Human Rights!" Thank you and goodnight. Much love, Belle. ❤️💛💚💙💜

#lgbtiaq #family #friends #love #marriageequality #marriage #peaceofmind #humanrights #video games #borderlands2 #tinytina #rainbow #pride

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vee-blackwell · 7 years

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i got a bout of depression that hit tonight from not being distracted enough to avoid getting in my own head and i think i had too many bad thoughts about who i am VS family acceptance

my queer things, my interest things, my (lack of) set goals.

it hurt a lot to try and explain transgender things to my gramma while watching I Am Jazz, when talking about nonbinary people using “they/them” pronouns, she essentially said that if you dont use he/him or she/her then you have no gender “so you’re just nothing” which was just too close to home (literally) for me to hear as someone who doesnt feel anywhere close to any definition of gender, and am definitely not enough % to feel comfortable going on the male side of the binary.

that’s the hard part of that. it seems like it would be easier to tell her i’m bisexual or something (another term that doesnt really match me, but explaining asexuality or the differences between pansexual and bisexual self-identities is another thing thats hard to do with an 86 year old woman). but then what if it changes how she asks me about anyone i hang out with or makes weird assumptions about my relationships?

but at the same time, in watching this show with her, where she’s trying her best to be open-minded and learn about transgender people via watching I Am Jazz, she starts asking me to explain things in the show. not in a negative way, again, shes trying to understand which is more than i could hope for other 80+ year old grandparents. but then she asks me how i know so much about transgender people and issues they face when its things she doesnt expect people i know in real life, close to me, to have dealt with yet. and i have to play the “Educated Ally” instead of the “Depressed, Closeted Transperson” and hope she doesnt go from asking about my friends that are out to wondering about me. because it just makes me fearful of being in another time period of living in an abusive and unsupportive / negligent household where i never feel safe and im constantly arguing with my family. and i dont need that, or even to feel like im risking getting to that point again

i at least want to feel like i wouldnt be kicked out of the house and become homeless, or stop getting money from my family if i came out at all... but how many other transpeople had the same thoughts and were totally wrong? my mom who watched some of the show with us today almost immediately misgendered one of the transgirls on the show, talking about how **she (i dont want to misgender even by quoting my mom) clearly didnt have hormone blockers as long as Jazz because **her voice had changed. and it’s like, alright, she uses a feminine name, looks like any other normal high school girl, and has been working to try and get her voice to pass better, and it’s still so easy for ignorant people like my mom to pick up on that one thing they feel doesn’t fit right and just misgender someone immediately. and it’s worrisome. because i know how easy it is for “the average adult” around my mom’s age to miss the point entirely on how someone works to transition and making their own personal choices

...

im just queer and tired and fearful. my mind screaming at me “do SOMEthing” every time i wake up is like the echo of a broken record player that’s playing somewhere i can barely hear it. so i do something. i get a food. i grab a game. i grab my phone for games. i grab a video, or a game tutorial, or ANOTHER computer game, or i go on social media sites. and i do all these empty “SOMEthings” to mute the bad thoughts like the ones above. the ones that both overwhelm me into submission and also make me numb to any emotions.

i get bored of the phone game, the magickarp jump cooldown timers are all that’s left.

i get bored of harvest moon, after realizing that i was 1 floor away from the bottom of the mines last time i get frustrated. do i go back for it again and make the long boring trek, or do i go back to grinding cooking recipes so i can finally make that god damn tempura meal? each day passes as quickly or as stagnantly as i please thanks to my emulator. freeze time and do my daily farm chores, use the inventory item dupe glitch to keep stocked every gift item i need to give everyone, show everyone on the local islands my pets for bonus friendship points, unfreeze time so that the one fisherman character will finally show up to talk to and i give him his daily gift and show him my dog, i go fishing with frozen or unfrozen time as i choose. the day is done. time for the next one.

i get bored of the computer games that both tantalize me into playing them because i love them and want the mental stimulation, yet the other screens beckon to me stronger, and i sit on the 3 blue hellsites, toggling between them in mixed intervals.

i get bored of neopets, because it is after midnight and its the 3rd day in the row i forgot to do my dailies. god DAMMIT i’m never going to get trudy’s shitty 30 day bonus spin for those 100k neopoints if i keep this up. i go onto the help boards, and bump up the lottery board. copy and paste my old post, add the moneybag emoticon and congrats the winners. short list gives the UNs. long list gets generalized. the regular group of lottery players and bumpers congratulate and recognize each other, making the odd chat message about their lives. this is as far as i chat on the neoboards now because i have no social energy otherwise to talk to other neopets friends about how life is still depressing, and trying to speak around the child filters and character limits.

i go to my mom’s room, its hard to predict if she’ll be home at 5 pm or 8 pm or 11 pm or gone to her shitty boyfriend’s house. it had been GTA V. then crash bandicoot warped (ps3 port). and now skyrim with the DLC. i play it as i spend my life, there are markers telling me where i should go for quests to progress, yet i wander aimless around the world finding something more interesting to explore until i finally remember what i meant to do. my mom comes home, and i ask if she wants me to get out so she can sleep. she says its fine, and leaves the lamp on shining on her bed. it becomes after midnight, my gramma scolds me for staying in there when my mom is sleeping. while i agree, my hyperfocus is hard to break, and it still takes me more time than it should to simply save and quit in the middle of my doing nothing of importance in the game that i play for the middle of my doing nothing of important in my life.

i eat wherever i spend my activity. TV tray by my bed at all times now, my propel bottle sways like a top heavy asshole everytime its moved. the tissue box takes up space for food, but everytime i move it on my bed its either in the way or not close enough to use when i need it. my nose is still almost ready to bleed from the dry summer air. im still dehydrated because i lack the ability to remember to drink the juice, milk, or propel bottles within arms reach.

it’s 3 am, or probably later. i ask joey if it’s time to sleep. i take my melatonin, we both brush our teeth and say goodnight. am i lying to him again this night, and apologizing and saying i’ll do it for real? this could happen twice before the guilt takes over and i either cave and do it for real, or stay awake focused on my daily nothingness distractions.

on the days its 5 am or later, my mom wakes for work. we talk about the cat. we always talk about the cat. sometimes she says her work is shit and that shes in pain. things that are obvious. she leaves for work and says goodnight to me in the hopes i go to sleep soon.

i sleep. around 11 am to 1 pm is around the time i get woken for my medications. anxiety, depression, birth control pill (1 daily for 3 weeks at a time). i have to eat and drink with it, so its something simple. on bad days i fall back asleep for over an hour. like a sloth, i drag the tray of food to me, resting the plate or bowl on my bed to eat as i stay laying down. sitting up means i feel more obligated to stay awake after this. i finish the food, drink, and my pills, and shove the tray back against my closet, and lie back down in bed forcing myself to sleep.

it becomes anywhere from 3 pm to 5 pm, on bad days its 6 and later. i lay in bed after waking up maybe two or three other times from sweating, or tossing and turning with bad dreams or being awake enough that i could get up, but unmotivated or too depressed to get up and have to be awake for that much more time. i crawl to the computer first, turning off my nightly music and going online on steam. just so whoever cares knows im awake. i go adjust the thermostat as both i need as well as what wont freeze my gramma to death (or at least to complaining for hours). i say that i dont know what i want for food. she offers a suggestion, and i say sure. i return to my room until food is brought to me, and i grab juice or milk to have with my meal. it probably gets cold if it was meant to be eaten hot.

i get a food. i grab a game. i grab my phone for games. i grab a video, or a game tutorial, or ANOTHER computer game, or i go on social media sites. and i do all these empty “SOMEthings” to mute the bad thoughts like the ones above. the ones that both overwhelm me into submission and also make me numb to any emotions. the pattern repeats.

...

this has been Vee Life Simulator. sorry. no refunds.

#vee's pathetic little life #i'm too tired to tag much #it's just depression talk so #you know. avoid it if you want #long post #text heavy

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canaryatlaw · 7 years

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Tired (lol) but today was good. Not terribly eventful, but good. I woke up around noon I think and wound up going with my mom to take my sister to her boyfriend's house (my mom thinks they're just friends) so I could pick up bagels on the way back (because being NY means bagels are necessary). On the way back I got into a bit of an argument with my mom because I was trying to make a point about how on social issues you can't just take the church's stance at face value, you have to actually study the Bible to see if there's actual scriptural support for it, as the Bible has been hailed to support many social issues in the past (I was using interracial marriage in this example) that we now believe the Bible does not support at all, and that I contend this applies to the church's teaching on transgender people. This is, to me at least, a logical argument. But then she started getting pissy and saying it was a psychological condition that was demonic and I was trying to tell her about the studies that tested the brain matter and she was all "well I don't trust studies" and I was so much like UGH YOU DONT LISTEN and basically got really irritated, but I mean there wasn't like there was anything else I could really do, I know she isn't going to listen. At least I got my bagels. A little while after getting back to the house I had to leave and go to my doctors appointment that's like halfway across the island (the long way) and a solid hour drive, so I took an assortment of highways and whatever the gps told me to do. He had moved since I last saw him in June (and had moved between then and the time I saw him before that) so I wasn't familiar with this location. I found it in basically a shopping center, which is kind of an odd place for a doctor's office, but I guess it worked well enough. The office was fairly deserted and I got in to see him pretty much immediately, he's always good like that. They did the vitals and tested my lungs as always (he's a pulmonologist but he deals with more than just lung issues as these things are often interconnected) then went to his office and talked. I like him a lot, he's a really chill guy and he practically saved my life back in 2013 when I was "dying" of asthmatic bronchitis and nobody could figure out what was wrong (I say practically and put dying in quotes because I'm aware I probably would not have actually died from having it gone untreated, but believe me, at the time I was in a ridiculous amount of pain both physically and mentally and his help was sorely needed). So I'm a fan of his, lol. We talked about sleep issues and acid reflux, and he ended up recommending some natural stuff to help with both of them. I'm automatically reticent when discussing natural remedies because my mom has always been so into them and most of them have failed miserably, but I trust him so I'll give it a try. Didn't hit all that much traffic on the way back thankfully and made it in just over an hour. Hung out with the family for a bit, had some corn on the cob that my mom had cooked on the grill, before going to pick up my sister and go to Taco Bell because I've been randomly craving it (the craving was probably better than the reality). So then we went home. During my drive there I checked the ACLU internship page just to see if they had changed anything and now I'm kicking myself for not checking it sooner because it has been changed, and now instead of having to send all your stuff to an email address, they want you to mail a hard copy of all of it to them. So that would make sense as to why nobody was answering my emails to the account it told me to send it to at the time. I was so frustrated because they say right on the page to apply asap and the positions are filled as qualified candidates apply, so they could have all their fall internship spots filled already and it wasn't even my fucking fault because I was just following directions, so I was pretty irritated over it. So when I got home I went on my laptop and got all my application materials, emailed them to myself and then brought them up on the desktop and printed them, along with a little note explaining the situation in a hopefully respectful way that also doesn't make me look bad because I don't want them thinking I'm the lazy one here when I applied in the beginning of July. Sigh. But I gave it all to my dad and he's gonna overnight it to them tomorrow, so they should have it by Wednesday at least. And I mean if I don't get it it's by no means the end of the world, I've prepared myself for this situation and there's plenty of other stuff I can occupy my time with. And it's nice to know there was an actual reason they weren't responding, not just because they think you suck lol. So I spent the rest of the night watching Batman TAS episodes (which are SO entertaining, let me tell you) and doing various internet things like updating the company tumblr, talking to my friends in the twitter group chat, and voting for Caity Lotz approximately a bajillion times in the latest internet battle of badass female characters. Not bad, overall. And that pretty much wraps things up! Tomorrow I'm having lunch with my friends from high school (the only ones I still hang out with) then we'll see what else, we might end up going out for a family dinner, we'll see what everyone wants to do. And I think that's it for now. Goodnight my darlings. Sweet dreams.

#daily journal #August 2017

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