Susan's Place Transgender Resources

duality seems to be part of my life, and sometimes i can't even sort it all out very well.
it's in the way i think, the way i see. the way i listen or understand.
the world is two or three, things moving sideways rather than in a straight line.
i often find myself on the other side not knowing how i ended up there.
some days it scares me. other days, i love it.
most days, it's just the way it is, and i can only go with whatever my head wants to make up that that day, hour, minute.

we have talked a little about darkness, and i want to talk about it more.
talk without thinking, as soon as i start thinking, the words lose their meaning, and i'm left all alone in my own darkness again.

[do you need any trigger warnings? this gets dark.]

people use to talk about two sides of the same coin.
there's darkness and light, as an example.
male an female for another.

i have problems understanding how male and female work.
my understanding seems incomplete, or i seem incomplete.
it's impossible to figure it out, one day i know for sure, the next, every concept of gender has completely escaped my mental grasp.

but this was supposed to be about darkness and the two sides of that coin.
because the darkness is that different to me, or within me.
light on one side. the light seems simple, easy to deal with when i don't feel like rejecting it.
the darkness is different. it seems to have two sides to it. or maybe more.

i have been struggling with depression and anxiety for a while.
not this while, but the last year while. and the year before that.
the years before that again, were only lost to depression.
this is supposed to be relatable to gender in some way, but i'm not sure i'm able to do that.
my genders mix too much, i'm only rarely sure of what i am.

there was a long time when i didn't understand the depression at all.
it's a really weird thing, to live in a world where color doesn't make any impression.
or maybe it does, but that only enhances the darkness.
something has been wrong most of my life. i couldn't relate to people in a meaningful way.
i couldn't find that motivation to do anything at all.
all the things that people told me about motivating factors, made no sense.
the reasons are hidden in darkness.

i was once again, this last weekend, reminded of how some of that darkness came to be.
i react quite badly to abuse, and to love. and i have no idea if this is a reaction to abuse, or something that's always been inside me.
maybe the cause doesn't even matter, the darkness has always been there as far as i can remember.

i cried a lot as a child. but i can only remember rare occasion when i cried out of sadness or despair.
i cried when i was scared. and i cried when i was angry.
something seems to have been different about me as a child, i never rebelled, rarely got angry.
or so it would seem, but i cried a lot when i was angry.
that feeling of rage might have been too overwhelming for me.
or i might have missed out on learning how to deal with it in a normal way because negative emotions weren't permitted for me.
i was most definitely afraid of being beaten up, losing the little affection my parents ever gave me, or the opportunity to ever meet friends again.
they had the power to lock me in the house, to abuse emotionally so severely that i didn't even dare try to run away.
so i never learned to deal with rage, or maybe i never really had a normal reaction anyway.

i got angry with my parents a lot, which of course means i cried a lot.
crying was the only way i could release anger and frustration in a safe way.
i was quite terrified of the impulse to destroy.
i never wanted to just scream. i wanted to burn the house down, but didn't because it was my only "home".
i wanted to break everything that could be broken by my hands, or feet.
maybe i was afraid of expressing anger because i didn't know if i could stop destroying if i ever were to begin.

i'm thinking that depression came about because i had too much anger and nowhere to direct it.
so i turned rather self destructive instead. and fled reality by reading fiction.
books had worlds where i could be whatever i wanted to be. preferably a pirate or fighter pilot, but medicine man or warrior worked too.
i really just flipped that coin of darkness, and instead of being angry with the abusers, i became angry of my self, who couldn't stand up against them.
killing myself also seemed like a much better option than killing my sister's parents. i love my siblings after all, and always have.
i never acted on those feelings. i only felt them, and let them destroy me.

the gender stuff in all this would be how a whole side of me was never allowed to express itself in childhood.
the boy was never nurtured, and i think he'd be much better at dealing with anger than this girl who ended up unable to react with anything other than wanting to kill and destroy. not like i understood this much back then, and i may still be wrong about it.

when i high school, bad things happened because i tried to be a good girl and failed to realize i was doing it wrong.
my image of a woman is on one side the mother bear who protects with her own life if needed, and on the other side an ideal that doesn't really exist.
and then when bad things happened, sexual abuse by someone i thought i could trust, i tried to take it like a man.
that's not how a woman deals with thing, probably. i don't know though, because i'm no good at talking to women about women stuff, so there are things i have no idea how are supposed to work.

but i try to take it like a man, and not being a man, i fail hard. quite an obvious result, don't you think?
but then again, i also am a man, so failing at it really only made matters worse.
understanding how much of a man i really am when i just grew up a little, didn't really make things better though.
there's something lacking to my manliness, sides of me that i don't understand.
a very debilitating anxiety grew out from failing my responsibilities as a... man.
it's kind of hilarious after having tried so hard to become a perfect woman, but that's what happened.

all this leads to a darkness that wishes to destroy me, and it wishes to destroy the world.
it took time to sort out, a really long time.
when i looked at myself, trying to figure out my feelings, i find a girl who's been left behind. at different ages.
they all have different feelings about what's going on, and what went on back then.
acknowledging them and allowing them to rest, telling them that i would take care of everything for them, was one key to getting out of depression.
another one was to find that guy who's been trying all my life to fix things without ever succeeding.
he really needed some comfort too.

i think he's the one who's been holding me back when i wanted to do stupid things.
he has a calmness about him that the female side doesn't know how to find.

i kind of learned how to switch modes. it works about the same as turning on or off a light switch.
except that light switches are much more tangible, and thus easier to use.
the light is something that the feminine, happy, and fabulous me loves. "she" can enjoy it in a way that the less feminine side doesn't feel a need to.
but "he" doesn't like the dark much either, so he totally likes enjoying the light with her.

but this last weekend, darkness was triggered again, rather unexpectedly.
it's a highly destructive darkness, perfectly feminine in its nature, directed at a neighbor who violated my younger brothers.
of course the manlier side of me is angry too, but he doesn't feel that strong a need to torture people half to death for the rest of eternity.
for a few days, i've been struggling to pull myself out of that darkness. and failing.
my rage burns hot, and it's kind of difficult to not burn innocent bystanders.
i'm really glad i have that other side to me, who can pull me away from that dark bottomless pit, put rage on a chair and tell her to stay.
the calm is kind of cold, it can go ice cold if need be. that's another great way to (frost) burn other people though.
but it's easier to control, a cold person can still pretend love and affection when it's needed.

i really like the balanced and happy me better.
feeling the love i have for my family is much better than just knowing it exists somewhere in there and i'd regret later if i disregard that knowledge now.

well. i think i feel a little better having written this.
would be funny if anyone read the whole thing through. there's no real need to do that, the need was for me to write it down.
i've found that giving my darkness some room to be, makes it easier to deal with than trying to shut it in a tiny box and pretend it's not there.

I read it.. Gladly..
Some things reminded me of childhood years, yet in a different way from my experiences.

I'm glad you shared..

I read this also.  You are not alone.

In many ways what you had to say reminded me of me.  Except when I was little I DID randomly scream - rather a lot.  And yes depression has been woven through my life.  I also have a male side and a female side.  It is a bit of a surprise since I am MAAB that the female side is alot stronger.  However, two years into therapy, I see that the female side had scraps of nurturing while the male side had none.  Then there is what I call a wall of fiery anger deep inside, and he is protecting the most damaged little boy (or baby) part.  Suffering emotional abuse at an early age leaves horrible scars...

All I can offer is cyber hugs! :icon_hug:


Erin

i wasn't really looking for hugs, but thanks erin.

i'm only writing to reveal myself to myself, and let friends have a glimpse of it.
troubles seem to become smaller just by letting someone else know they exist.

Quote from: Taka on November 12, 2014, 09:22:41 AM
troubles seem to become smaller just by letting someone else know they exist.

Yes they do!  Write away!


Erin

Ouch.

I am reminded of ativan.  I see parallels.

And my duality has changed.  If female is milk and male chocolate, I became chocolate milk, sometimes more chocolate, sometimes more milk, but blended.

The anger, pain, books, feelings, I identify with much.

You help me taka.

Struggling today, reading a spec page over and over, retaining nothing.  Just one of those days, I need to stay in the now, I still fear the enormous power of my female body and component, the male is less in control.  Less chocolate, more milk.

I pull on your great strength.  I am sure we all do, and you my dear are free to pull on mine, Satinjoy is full of compassion and light.  Only fear shuts that Down.

I read it.  Thank you for telling it.

Blessings

Satinjoy

I don't know if it  helps, but I think I have some vague idea of what you're going through.  If listening helps, I'll listen.  I'm probably 5000+ km from you, but I'll try to be there in spirit (as you have been for me.)

+ + +

If reading what someone else feels helps, here's what your words call up in me:

I know how being male is supposed to make you tough and invulnerable to all the c*** that the world (and family :( ) can throw at you.  It never worked for me, maybe because I couldn't make myself be the John Wayne nobody-can-hurt-me tough-guy male.  And I've realized, I don't want to, either.  I take anti-depressants to dull the pain enough to function, to do my work and be there for my kids, but I'd rather feel the pain than not.  If that makes me a girl (as everyone around me told me when I was a kid), then I'll be a girl.  To me, being invulnerable isn't any different from being dead.  And if I wanted to be dead, there are quicker and less painful ways to get there.

I hope this doesn't make you feel less understood.

this isn't so much about being understood, as understanding myself, admitting to myself, and offering you an opportunity to know me better.
i'm sure there's been enough darkness in your life too, asche. it really sounds like it. and even if the darkness amd reasons are different from mine, it's still something to struggle with. i hope writing your own feelings to me, will also help you deal with your own darkness.
i'm sure that by sharing, we'll start to see colors between intersections of darkness. maybe even specks of pure white light here and there.
it's human nature to share knowledge and experience, and i have a feeling that one of the reasons why darkness grows so deep, is that we don't share this experience. mayne out of fear of rejection, maybe because we don't want to burden others. but knowledge is supposed to be shared, it has to be shared, in order for humanity to progress. that's how science developed, and that's how our experiences of gender, social norms, light, dark, happiness, and struggles, will be processed in a good and constuctive way, which in turn will lead to a more open society where colors are appreciated and nobody needs to fear another's judgement.
or at least i hope that will happen if we can just start to open our closed doors so other people can see that we aren't all too different.

looks like i forgot how to be dark again...

satinjoy.
it's funny how you are reminded of ativan. we aren't really all that similar, but i do feel like there's a kind of commonality, something shared that makes sense even before it was identified. it's not wrong of you to see those parallels, and i find it fascinating that you also see some of this that i have known since the first time i exchanged words with that person.

it's also nice to know there's other people out there who like books. did you want to become a pirate though..?
i'm also sorry that books weren't quite enough for you. fiction and fantasy are my only addictions, you seem to not have been this lucky.
i think i probably lack that addiction gene. lucky me, one thing that never went wrong.

Thank you for sharing that Taka. I know what it's like living with darkness and I think I understand your darkness a little bit better now.

I also lost myself in books, except I broke through the pages and ended up living in my own story and I've never really gone back to the "real" world. Which was actually more of a nightmare.

i think you'll have to explain the difference between the real world and the one you're living in now, cerys...
i'm not too sure i live in the real world either, people tell me it's not as great as the one i see.
and then at other times, i hear the world is much better than what i see.
kind of depends a little on my moods.

reality is either overrated or underrated. seems it depends on the viewpoint.
i like reality because it's an unwritten story. it's impossible to know what happens next.
some things can be predicted, just like how a story usually flows.
but reality has a ways of breaking all predictions and throwing one surprise after another at you.
i think how i deal with the surprises determines whether i live in heaven or hell.
reality itself, with no feelings or hopes or desperation attached, is too weird to really understand.
it can be a wonder or a nightmare.

i had to meet my current boss before i could start to see the wonders of the world.
he's something of a philosopher, more of a spiritual being than an actual physical person.
some would perhaps call it a shaman. definitely not a typical war chief, he even insists on calling me a colleague rather than underling or minion.
his views have open new paths for me, and i can see unlimited possibilities where i could only see death before.

my reality is created inside my head. but that's also what makes people so interesting.
getting new friends opens new worlds to me.
a fascinating thing.

I'm not sure, obviously the world I inhabit is real, I would imagine the other world to be a cold hard place filled with logic and where everything is as it seems. I live in a world where I've met dragons and even my goddess, I asked her for something and she gave it to me, I'm just waiting to see what I have to do in return.

that logical world seems rather fake to me. maybe that's because i grew up in a society where the spirit world is just another part of the real world.
not believing seems like the crazier option, though it also has a very dark shadow side to it.
i wouldn't be me if the world were nothing but cold logic.

I write stories as well, and I've lost track of where the stories end and I begin.

i'd love to read more of your stories.
i often think i have too much grasp on reality.
i know where stories end and i begin. what a boring way of life.
i couldn't even manage to suppress bad memories or develop any disorders. outside some more general depression and anxiety ofc.
still... i also daydream too much, and easily lose track of who i am presenting as, or even who i am in a timeline related sense.

i have some characters whose stories i want to write, but i have no idea where to start.
maybe i should start writing all the half truths about myself. wonder if anyone would read them.

I want to comment but can't because I don't understand it and won't pretend that I do, it wouldn't be fair to you in any event. This did bring to mind fleeting thoughts of unrelated things equally as confusing, The Three Faces of Eve for one and my youngest son who I haven't seen in years is another. He is bipolar and refuses treatment, has been arrested for assault twice I see according to an online detective agency. He suffers from muscular dystrophy and is angry, seems that he made a home with a lesbian, she kicked her girlfriend out and they had a baby together. He hates me and his mother for no reason, we always loved him. I see his baby and little boy pictures in the family photo montage on the wall and I cry for him, I miss my little boy, dangerous as he is it is for the best!

I'm glad you wrote it, one because you say you felt better and two because I to put rage on hold (I don't gender it) but I still put it on hold, and it is terryfting to think about drastick vengfull deeds, and to not want to act on the thoughts. And become scared of a possibility that no matter howw much you don't want to in some way you might.

I smiled reading this (I hope I don't seem un-caring) but it was nice to know that I'm not the only person frightened of acting on their angry thoughts.

hating for no reason rarely happens. he probably just has reasons that don't make sense to you.
my mother says i have no reason to be angry with her for anything, because she always loved me so much and did everything in my best interest. she even regrets some bad mistakes that she made.
but that doesn't make my reason to be angry disappear.
sometimes, these things happen because parents fail to find a way to communicate properly, and the child isn't able to show the parents the right way to get through to them. communication is a really difficult thing, and there's still a danger of me failing with my daughter. though it's a lot easier when she doesn't have any disorder that makes communication even more difficult than it already is with kids.

one thing to keep in mind when dealing with kids, is that a single event of bullying in kindergarten can result in the kid dropping out of high school due to depression, anxiety, lack of trust in people, or whatever other negative effects that may have had. children are most vulnerable when they are young, and one single mistake can ruin the relationship between parent and child.

that doesn't mean you did anything wrong. children have a tendency to interpret events their own way, and the parent's intentions don't always come across at all. your son could be angry just because of some misunderstanding that wasn't cleared up soon enough.

the reason i'm angry with my mother isn't that she made mistakes, but rather that she never told me they were mistakes. so i thought she meant it.
there are other thing too though, like her being an impossible person to talk to. that's not a mistake on her part, it's pure abuse even though she doesn't understand it herself. love doesn't justify her lack of will to communicate with me or that she never even tried to understand me. never allowed me to be myself, but instead imposed her own ideals on me.

anyway... uhh...
i'm not meaning to criticize you. just telling you that there may be some perspective that you aren't seeing because you aren't your son.
reasons are often things that matter to one but not the other, things we fail to see. or just a moment when we forgot to listen.

I know what the hatred is about. He is angry because I got upset at him for destroying the walls and doors, splitting door jambs with his feet. He is angry because I called the police and forcibly made him move out when he threw my desktop computer and fax machine on the floor and shook his mother like a rag doll and yelled at her to F--- herself. He has explosive anger episodes over nothing threatening a police officer with a baseball bat as the officer pointed his 9mm handgun at his head in self defense. He can be sweet one minute and become a modern day demon possession case the next. I love him because he's my youngest son, but he's a dangerous menace to everyone. He's angry because he doesn't understand why I get upset at being awakened at 3AM and have to change a flat tire for him on the Interstate. He's angry because I found his crack pipe.

I was a little irritated about what you said, but I'm glad you did because it gave me a chance to mentally review all the reasons he isn't here anymore and come to think of it I don't miss any of that!

well, that's good then.
he's apparently angry at you for a whole lot of the wrong reason then.
i have no trust in parents at all, and that's why i wrote what i wrote. i'll always ask what the parent did wrong before blaming the child.
but knowing what you meant, even i can see that the problem lies with your son's thoughts about what is acceptable behavior.
it's sad though, that he doesn't have any will or doesn't see any reason to improve.

my youngest brother has a lot of somewhat similar problems with anger, but he ay least can blame it on our mother selling him to the devil despite his tries to resist. she managed to incite a sort of anger inside him that can easily create a lot of trouble for him later in life. but he's at least somewhat calm and doesn't make a point of destroying things.

Taka, I read your story and I got chills down my spine.

When I was a child, I knew I was different from others. Not just my intersex birth condition but something about my personality, I was not able to "click" with children my age as easily as others managed to.
I became friends with a bright young boy who stood out from all the rest, he was well-liked by everyone and very nice to me. He came over to my house and brought a ton of superhero costumes over so we could play dress-ups.

He zoomed around the house in a Superman outfit, I did in a Spiderman outfit, then later on, the Red Power Ranger. I was avid fan of the Power Rangers in the old days, the red Power Ranger was to me, a hero, someone I wanted to be. Someone worthy who could help others in time of need.

I was insecure from a young age. I wore a kitty tail and as you know from that story, I was ultimately told to stop wearing it - when I didn't, they took it away from me. It wasn't just the tail, I would drink milk from a bowl like a kitten. At one stage, I would only talk to my parents in cat meows, nuzzles or hisses. Later on, I would run around the backyard, taking delight in being Ash Ketchum (rather than Misty!) and finding imaginary creatures lurking behind every tree or stone. I collected all the figurines and the VHS back in the day. A few years later, I got into Sailor Moon, while I still loved Poke'mon, I collected all the Sailor Moon wands, the dolls and even wanted to grow my hair out long like Sailor Moon's. Long story short, I realized long hair is a lot of maintenance and my teenage self wasn't patient enough to wait for the hair to grow, much less put effort into maintaining it.

When I was older, I discovered the joys of cosplay, I could buy costumes and wigs online and dress up as my favorite anime character at the conventions or just around the house. Most amusing thing is all I dressed up as were male characters, this was years before I would come out as transgender to my family. Pretending to be an anime character gave me a thrill, it gave me a day to escape myself and my miserable life where I was unhappy. But at the end of the day, I still had myself to come back to so I knew cosplay wasn't going to solve my problems I had with myself. Day-dreaming was another activity I found myself slipping into without being conscious of it. I would always be scolded in class or at home for being "away with the fairies" and I would always be confused because I would be hanging with Pikachu, not fairies - duh! But of course, at Susans, now there are plenty of fairies to play with! :)

Upon discovering anime, I realized there were people who could create their own original characters. I had always been fascinated with stories but it never occurred to me that I could write my own stories about my own unique worlds or characters. I began to visually act out scenes for my stories when I would go to bed at night. There was a common theme - main character gets beaten up and he gets back up again... the basis of survival, if you will. I would pretend to feel their pain and their struggle, be it flashbacks of traumatic memories, being physically hit, raped or being a victim of emotional abuse, it was sort of "punishment" I could not put life into my characters unless I felt I could understand their pain and suffering on a personal level. The imagination can be a wild thing and now, having personal experiences with rape and other kinds of abuse, I am able to construct my characters to be that much more realistic than before.

I held anger in my adolescence. It was a type of anger that still settles within me right now but for a different purpose - back then, I was angry at the world and myself... now I am more or less angry about gender stereotypes and the lack of equality yet I have accepted I am trans. I no longer angst about being trans (thank god). I have struggled with suicidal thoughts and at one point, even entertained homicidal thoughts... no thanks to anti-depressants! I would have dreams of murdering people but they would almost always look faceless like mannequins, it was as if my subconscious knew that if they had a face, a name, a family, the overwhelming guilt would be too much and I wouldn't be able to express my anger properly in the dream state. Drawing and writing stories became my outlet for my anger and frustration, nowadays, sewing is a hobby I enjoy and the hum of the machine calms me more than I ever thought it could.

I have been told when I was a child to stop crying because I was embarrassing (my parents) at the time. It was one moment but it stayed with me forever. I have not cried since, I cry more freely in my dreams though, it is the only place where I can truly express myself. Emotions have always been a fiddly thing for me to control, a slippery fish that always gets away. Sometimes, I wonder whether I should stop catching fish that cannot be caught and just let the fish be. My lack of romantic and sexual attraction to others has made me turn away on the values of love, sex and family. Those values are of no interest to me at all, never have been for years and most likely will not change in the future but don't quote me on that! The future can be unpredictable as always.

All I feel on a daily basis is depression, anxiety, anger, hyperactivity and default... which can be a combination of the former. I now laugh at myself because once upon a time or quite recently, I proudly claimed to be empathetic to others or that I was an empath. I can relate to a certain extent but everyone is different and I can't possibly be able to empathize with everyone and that's okay!

I can relate... sorta. If my rambling nonsense made any sense  ;D

you're making a whole lot of sense, jacey.

my daughter's a cute kitten sometimes, but rarely takes it as far as you did. i haven't seen her try to eat like a cat in a long while now.
doesn't matter to me though, i've always treated younger member of my family like cats. which also means i've sometimes talked to them in the wrong language and gotten puzzled looks in return.

i'm a very empathic person. it mostly means that i mirror other people's emotions well enough that family almost makes me go crazy just by being there. i need a whole lot of time without people around me in order to be able to deal with people in a sensible manner. my family unfortunately can't seem to understand that when i withdraw, it's because i'm about to turn all the negativity they send out right back on them. i'm much more comfortable around people who are relaxed and happy.

my empathy can turn off though. it's really weird when it happens and makes me feel kind of lost. a moment ago i knew how to relate to people, and then suddenly, i'll have to rely on memory to know what's the right thing to do. i fear that the state will last whenever it happens, while also longing for it and considering forcing myself into it when my feelings become too much for me. empathy isn't worth much when i haven't learned how to use it to show sympathyand all it does is hurt me with other people's loads of negative feelings.

my own homicidal thoughts are kind of... dark, twisted, weird in all kinds of ways. i have killed people in my dreams, and it was fun. they all had faces, and that may have been a reason for it being so much fun. but those are just dreams. it gets a whole lot weirder when i see some guy i kind of like, and start imagining ways to kill him. i don't think that's very normal. it's either a broken form of love, or a birth defect. i can't tell which it is, i've been like this since early enough that i can't tell where on my timeline of life it is placed, before or after love for parents turned into wishing them dead so i could mourn their loss. feels like a chicken or egg question. but it's mostly connected to sexuality it seems, which is probably the main reason why i avoid dating. the first and last boyfriend was really good at making me want to kill him, and i found the impulse much more difficult to control after i got a child. a girl could be possible though, or at least that type of role in a relationship. i see absolutely bo value in hurting someone weaker than me unless they try to dominate.

maybe tmi, but i hope not.

Quote from: EchelonHunt on November 13, 2014, 10:56:22 AM
Drawing and writing stories became my outlet for my anger and frustration, nowadays, sewing is a hobby I enjoy and the hum of the machine calms me more than I ever thought it could.

I don't draw, but I do write stories; lately, I've been doing it obsessively.  I also sew (I need to post some pictures of my latest creations.)

Quote from: EchelonHunt on November 13, 2014, 10:56:22 AM
I have been told when I was a child to stop crying because I was embarrassing (my parents) at the time. It was one moment but it stayed with me forever. I have not cried since,...

When and where i grew  up, boys weren't allowed to cry; if you did, everyone made fun of you ("crybaby!").  So I learned not to cry.  Now, I wish I could un-learn that, but I don't know how.  It's like I amputated part of myself.

It's one of the things I hate about being male -- you keep being forced to amputate parts of your self.  If you do it right, you don't mind marching into certain death like the Light Brigade (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charge_of_the_Light_Brigade), because you've killed off most of your self already, so it's not much of a loss if the little that is left gets killed, too.

I'm trying to go AWOL from manhood, but I fear it's too late, I'm not sure there's enough me left to go anywhere.

Quote from: Taka on November 13, 2014, 11:50:41 AM
i've been like this since early enough that i can't tell where on my timeline of life it is placed, before or after love for parents turned into wishing them dead so i could mourn their loss.

I can relate to this, only in my case, it wasn't so much wishing them dead as feeling like they were already dead.  My mother especially, sometime between when I was 7 and when I was 15 I started to feel like there wasn't anyone there, just some simple-minded AI program, like the "eliza" program.  I think it made me feel like I didn't exist, because once severe depression wasn't my normal state, I noticed that every time I visited, I would be almost suicidally depressed for weeks.  And when she died, I felt nothing at all.  On some level, for me she'd been dead for decades.

I've noticed that when love or connection turns sour in me, it doesn't turn into anger or wanting to kill someone.  It turns into me wanting to walk away, never to return.  I struggled for years in my marriage, but at some point, it was just dead for me.  "All over but the shouting" is how I expressed it to myself (uncharacteristically verbal.)  The same with people and places -- at some point, it's over, it's dead for me, and I just walk away.

i've read some science that says people only become more like themselves the older they get. which would explain why lying about one's personality or gender identity becomes increasingly more painful with time.
it's difficult to unlearn things that you feel like your life has depended on, but my own experience is that the more fake i peel off, the more of the real me suddenly reveals itself. i've found sides of myself that i never knew existed until i started this excavation.
like a treasure hunt...
i believe you're still hidden in there, asche. i'm hoping to see more of you soon, your personality is a little fuzzy to me, almost like you're making an effort to hide it. that's not necessary to do here, but i understand how difficult it can be to become a person again after having made too much effort to become a robot. isn't that what you become when everything of your own personality is hidden away...?

i hope i'm not offending, i'm just telling my thoughts so you can prove me wrong if you see reason to.

Trigger warning.



Rage is kindled.   The wrath of a fairy father

For yours, for mine.

A child bullied to insanity, me.   Primed for alcohol, doomed from the start.
A stillborn child, buried in secret while the wife lost her mind, only to be revealed years later, and a wife's grief as she was given the opportunity to mourn our son.
A daughter molested, carrying the secret for years, only to be revealed when I told her mine, that I was more than male.
Children and family driven out of their home overnight, a midnight move, into the safety of an attic a hundred miles away, deep in stealth.  Children in grade school, taught that the world is not safe for the interracial, that hate extends to babies.
Driven out again by a preditor of sex, the women losing their minds, two hospitalized, the rest never to be the same.  High school girls learning it is unsafe to be pretty.  Unsafe to be alone.  Unsafe to be alive.  The father runs a thousand miles, hiding them one more time.

The mighty rage of the fairy Satinjoy.  The burning fire of diamond trans, the wrath of a father, nonbinary warrior, the only stability a family knew, other than their God.  They will not lose their Dad.

The beard will stay.

So what was my foolish, self serving tirade about?

We are the strongest people I am aware of.  The integrity is deep, the instinct to protect fierce, the understanding of others astounding.  So as a group we endure together.

I am criticised for making hard choices for family, forcing myself to accept a face I did not want, but that I have so much respect for.

I would not sacrifice a second of my past, for it has shaped the transgendered person I now own.

For my critics, those who or may not feel I don't go full time because I don't have the balls...what would you say to my damaged daughters?

Hard choices.  The rage does nothing for me, it is useless unless it creates the courage to stay alive, to help others, and to light a fire of light that fills a soul and let's them know their inestimable worth in the family of trans.

So be it, darkness shall not be my path.  It is not my way, but I would not dream of criticizing another's darkness.  It can be a blanket, a safe place to heal, and this fairy would fight for you like my own.

Thank you for reminding me why I choose this presentation, when I have spent thousands and years of anguish to buy the body I can no longer resist.

For those who commented on Taka s thread, and for Taka, your courage and your character are beyond words.

How shameful those who snub us are.  How pitiful the ones who bring pain.  They know nothing of what they do, they cannot see the unseen, they are doomed to see only themselves, they will never know the great value we carry, if we only allow ourselves to know this, to know how much we help those around us, lives touching lives, giving others the courage to come out, carry on, and live another day.

The fairy lights a candle in the forest.


Blessings

Satinjoy

Quote from: Satinjoy on November 13, 2014, 04:45:43 PM
For my critics, those who or may not feel I don't go full time because I don't have the balls

NO one has ever said this, period. We HAVE shown concern for YOUR mental health. I am not very happy with that statement.

I know that.  I know, when I crashed last time you were spot on, I was in trouble.

Yet, it is how I felt...

Not fighting with you Jessica, not at all.


But, it still is the pressure and subtext I sometimes feel.

I hope you understand.  I appear to be a bit damaged on this point. 

Quote from: Satinjoy on November 13, 2014, 04:56:28 PM
I appear to be a bit damaged on this point.

Just saying statements like that will not get you any sympathy or assistance in the future. You might be cautious throwing things like that out there.  :(

Sorry for the trigger.  Let's let this go now.

Quote from: Jessica Merriman on November 13, 2014, 05:03:57 PM
Just saying statements like that will not get you any sympathy or assistance in the future.

Can we please not talk to one another this way?

I won't speak for Satinjoy, who I assume is able to speak for hirself, but it's a tone that makes me feel like I have to edit who I am here, lest I get a similar response.  I've already had something here that felt like a dope-slap, which has left me feeling somewhat wary even now.

Sorry, I won't express my opinions any more.

Quote from: Asche on November 13, 2014, 05:55:26 PM
Can we please not talk to one another this way?

I won't speak for Satinjoy, who I assume is able to speak for hirself, but it's a tone that makes me feel like I have to edit who I am here, lest I get a similar response.  I've already had something here that felt like a dope-slap, which has left me feeling somewhat wary even now.

Yeah it doesn't take a rocket scientist to recognize a pattern.

Quote from: Satinjoy on November 13, 2014, 03:22:29 PM
Trigger warning.



Rage is kindled.   The wrath of a fairy father

For yours, for mine.

A child bullied to insanity, me.   Primed for alcohol, doomed from the start.
A stillborn child, buried in secret while the wife lost her mind, only to be revealed years later, and a wife's grief as she was given the opportunity to mourn our son.
A daughter molested, carrying the secret for years, only to be revealed when I told her mine, that I was more than male.
Children and family driven out of their home overnight, a midnight move, into the safety of an attic a hundred miles away, deep in stealth.  Children in grade school, taught that the world is not safe for the interracial, that hate extends to babies.
Driven out again by a preditor of sex, the women losing their minds, two hospitalized, the rest never to be the same.  High school girls learning it is unsafe to be pretty.  Unsafe to be alone.  Unsafe to be alive.  The father runs a thousand miles, hiding them one more time.

The mighty rage of the fairy Satinjoy.  The burning fire of diamond trans, the wrath of a father, nonbinary warrior, the only stability a family knew, other than their God.  They will not lose their Dad.

The beard will stay.

Satinjoy,
You are magnificent, and I honor and love you.
Julie

Quote from: Taka on November 13, 2014, 02:01:54 PM
i hope i'm not offending, i'm just telling my thoughts so you can prove me wrong if you see reason to.

I'm not easily offended, except by deliberate or callous mistreatment of others.  I do get frightened (spooked) easily, though.

Quote from: Taka on November 13, 2014, 02:01:54 PM
i believe you're still hidden in there, asche. i'm hoping to see more of you soon, your personality is a little fuzzy to me, almost like you're making an effort to hide it. that's not necessary to do here, but i understand how difficult it can be to become a person again after having made too much effort to become a robot. isn't that what you become when everything of your own personality is hidden away...?

I don't think I'm making a conscious effort to hide myself.  But after all these years of trying to be what I think others want me to be, I don't know who the "me" is that I would be/would have been if I'd just let myself be.  I'm not so much a robot as a failed attempt to be some mish-mash of characters from morally uplifting tales.

Unfortunately, I learned at a very early age that who and what I was was just wrong, that the one thing I could count on was that whatever I did or said or thought based on my own judgement or feelings was guarranteed to be wrong and would be taken as (further) evidence of my turpitude.  I was expected to suppress anything and everything that came from inside me and paper it over with stuff that people told me to do, to think, to feel.  My mother was particularly good at impressing this upon me in a loving way, but I got it from just about everyone.  It's really only been since my divorce 10 years ago that I've consciously resolved to be who I am (whoever the h. that is), and if people hate me or even kill me for it, so be it.

Quote from: Asche on November 13, 2014, 02:01:48 PM
I can relate to this, only in my case, it wasn't so much wishing them dead as feeling like they were already dead.  My mother especially, sometime between when I was 7 and when I was 15 I started to feel like there wasn't anyone there, just some simple-minded AI program, like the "eliza" program.  I think it made me feel like I didn't exist, because once severe depression wasn't my normal state, I noticed that every time I visited, I would be almost suicidally depressed for weeks.  And when she died, I felt nothing at all.  On some level, for me she'd been dead for decades.

I've noticed that when love or connection turns sour in me, it doesn't turn into anger or wanting to kill someone.  It turns into me wanting to walk away, never to return.  I struggled for years in my marriage, but at some point, it was just dead for me.  "All over but the shouting" is how I expressed it to myself (uncharacteristically verbal.)  The same with people and places -- at some point, it's over, it's dead for me, and I just walk away.

Hmm, My parents are both dead, my marriage has ended.  But as I walk away, it is to walk forward.  I'm no longer afraid to by real, to be authentic.  When we open our souls we are never wrong. That someone, anyone would tell you so is beyond evil.  You are remarkable and I am grateful to know you.  Asche, you have made the declaration, once I did that the rest was easier.  I am no longer contained, like Satinjoy my heart is available to be broken. 

This afternoon I thought I might be banned from Susan's for a while, seems it won't happen now, but I would rather be banished than to tolerate what I perceive is injustice.  You demonstrate that sort of moxie all the time.  Thank you for your courage.

Julie

i would like to remind people that this is not a thread to go looking for support.
that's not my intention at all, and i think it's no one else's either.
threats of actively withholding support because of someone's honesty about their own feelings, seems absurd to me. i do hope i won't see that again.

another thing to remember about honesty, is that a person's experience of something is real, even if it's the complete opposite of what someone else intended when they caused that experience. we are having a dialogue where we actually throw a whole lot of feelings and possibly wrong fears or assumptions out, even at each other. it makes me happy to get honest feelings in return, they help me correct my thinking about my friends here, clear up misunderstandings before they settle.
it's a good thing to do, but it cannot be done by telling people that they got it wrong, it can only be done by telling your own side of the story.
(thank you shantel, for being so nice about my near-attack on you)

Quote from: Asche on November 13, 2014, 06:24:20 PM
I'm not easily offended, except by deliberate or callous mistreatment of others.  I do get frightened (spooked) easily, though.
I don't think I'm making a conscious effort to hide myself.  But after all these years of trying to be what I think others want me to be, I don't know who the "me" is that I would be/would have been if I'd just let myself be.  I'm not so much a robot as a failed attempt to be some mish-mash of characters from morally uplifting tales.

a robot with too many programmers? maybe that wasn't the right word for what i meant, i hope you still understand it though, because i can't find a different word for this act where you only do what others told you to, and try to not even have your own emotions or opinions about it.
what you describe here, is the fuzziness i feel about you. if the effort were conscious, you'd probably do a much better job of masking the true self, and i'd have a clear, but wrong, picture of who you are. i'm hoping that you'll find more of yourself rather than give up on trying, because the little i have seen of you has been very interesting.

QuoteUnfortunately, I learned at a very early age that who and what I was was just wrong, that the one thing I could count on was that whatever I did or said or thought based on my own judgement or feelings was guarranteed to be wrong and would be taken as (further) evidence of my turpitude.  I was expected to suppress anything and everything that came from inside me and paper it over with stuff that people told me to do, to think, to feel.  My mother was particularly good at impressing this upon me in a loving way, but I got it from just about everyone.  It's really only been since my divorce 10 years ago that I've consciously resolved to be who I am (whoever the h. that is), and if people hate me or even kill me for it, so be it.

people have tried their best to mold me too, into something very different from me.
done with loving intentions, it has still damaged me. i grew up trying hard not to be wrong, when what people said was wrong actually was the right me to be.
it has taken me a long time to find something that feels like me and not someone else's expectations.
maybe i'm lucky that i'm still young. i never rebelled in my teenage years, but i've been doing a whole lot of that since i was around 23. that's when i found the first real life friend whom i could talk to about anything at all, and who even supported me in being me. never got all the way to trans, but the rest of me was covered, even the boyishness.

Quote from: Taka on November 14, 2014, 01:22:27 AM
maybe i'm lucky that i'm still young. i never rebelled in my teenage years, but i've been doing a whole lot of that since i was around 23. that's when i found the first real life friend whom i could talk to about anything at all, and who even supported me in being me. never got all the way to trans, but the rest of me was covered, even the boyishness.

I can relate, having been the "good" child who never rebelled up until I turned 18 and started throwing away the female labels in desperation to  try figuring out who I truly am. I began to rebel in the years to come, to the point I quickly realized alcohol is a very tempting poison that changes me into someone very pitiful - it also made me vulnerable to other's coercion to do acts that I would not consent to in a million years if I were sober.  I did stupid things like mix anti-depressants and alcohol in the attempt to make the pain go away, I ended up having violent seizures and landing in the ER for the night. To protect myself and my mind from further damage, only just three months ago, I decided to quit alcohol entirely. I haven't looked back since, only to reflect on the fact that I may have well been a borderline alcoholic, I just didn't realize it.

Now at 25, I am still figuring out who I am :laugh: but for the most part, I believe I have most of it figured out. If it changes, it changes. Identity can be fluid, I think?

Throwing this out there: Would identity be considered a different component from one's personality or are they closely linked? That question has always intrigued me.

i never tried to drown myself in alcohol. maybe a couple tries, but it didn't have any effect on anything, other than maybe making things worse. so i stopped trying to do that after very few tries. which means i can enjoy alcohol, responsibly. getting drunk isn't the main point of it at all.
smoking was equally impossible. they say it calms the nerves, and that's kind of true. but not true enough to be worth it at all, except at some rare party.
i won't even try drugs, the one time i got some lighter stuff, i decided i didn't like it at all. nothing gets to mess with my head that way.

identity and personality feel very different, but at the same time so closely linked that it can be really difficult to know which aspect belongs to which.
likes and dislikes seem to belong to personality. i don't hate or love dresses because i am this or that identity. i just like what i like.
how i view and relate to the world and other people seems to have more to do with identity. some parts of identity are chosen consciously, identifying with a group because of something we have in common that is more important than the differences. but it's still decided by a part of me that isn't the same as my personality, i think.
we'd probably end up in a chicken/egg circle trying to define this.

identity can be fluid. or fluidity can be part of identity. it's up the the person to decide which it is for them.
the most important discovery i have made, is that people can change, and that perfectly ok even if it's me.
if i change, i change. there's no point in worrying about that now, right now i have to be the person i am now.
let the future worry about itself.

BBig time trigger warning now (ftp://big%20time%20trigger%20warning%20now)

Quote from: JulieBlair on November 13, 2014, 06:33:48 PM
I would rather be banished than to tolerate what I perceive is injustice.  Julie

First, I am livid.  Look out.

JulieBlair if you get your ass out of this forum I wil have a complete and total meltdown of rage.  Tell me where the f..k you are going to find another decades sober nonbinary alcoholic that speaks the exact same language you do.  Your contribution here is beyond description and your contribution to me is essential, and that it exists publically like this is so freaking important that we need to be fully cognizant of just what kind of influence we have in a community with a 70% death rate.  And a 97% disaster rate in AA.

So be smart and don't f-- up.

Now, I have to say this.   Get right off the thread if you have anger or vulnerabiltiy issues, skip to the next post, I am impossibly furious.




It is the height of evil or of folly to use a persons emotional instability or rage to manipulate them.  One of my closest friends is gone because they were manipulated by their own anger to utterly self destruct, and the damage to the section is unspeakable.  I am so ragefully angry about this that it is all I can do to breathe and be.  I am not accusing anyone, but if anyone feels accused, then feel it.  But the manipulation and the vulnerabiltiy was obvious, some may not have intentionally done it, that is easily forgiven,  but some did play the game, and I wont ever forget that.

They are gone, my close friend that stopped me from annihilation,  its over for them, the forum is fu...ked for it because we lost both a sage but more importantly a suicide intercessor.   I am seeing red, if you saw my aura its blood red and shot through with flashes of sparks. 

You screw with someones head for 50 years and some day instead of running away you will come to know a person whos face becomes contorted with flaming rage and is unrecognizable from the moment before they triggered.  Beat them, r--pe them, mess with their minds, and then wonder why the f--k they  lash out when someone touches that spot again.  Well gee, what a big whipping surprize.

So we tell stories of survival and of building self esteem to get through the flipping day, so we can build enough of our shattered minds back up to go out and dare the world.

Pity?  Help? Oh poor me, oh feel sorry for me?  Screw it.  I dont want it, I want my warrior side, I want the notmale protection in me to stand guard and take the necessary actions to protect the brutally mindraped Satinjoy from further abuse.

Wrath?   This is wrath.

And stripping away the layers to find the self aint easy, but my dear Asche you are going to do it, and with that PTSD hypervigilance that I also share,  you still can do it.  And this section is a good place to start.

I was a bloody runner all my life, you see that, we confronted the one we did know, the predator, and had no police support, we confronted that one until by godd....mn poor little kids wound up in a feaking ward, one high up in a tree ready to jump and we got there first, the other cutting her wrists..... the wife screaming on the bathroom for because we chose to face our demon instead of running away, and now we have to forgive that son of a bitch and we actually did it?

I will not run from my home again, and like it or not, this forum is home.  And I am beyond livid that the one who continues to hold my mind together is gone from here, and if they read this, itll take weeks or months to get them calmed down again through the love of the fairy.  They hold me together, I hold them together. 

You think its easy to have a womans body and face you wanted all your life and have some son of a bitch take indellible marker and draw a ->-bleeped-<-..g beard on you that can never be washed off until your loved ones die?  Or wash it and leave them to face the ->-bleeped-<-s of this world undefended?  Do you have any ->-bleeped-<-ing idea how it feels to have full hormonal transition and accute body gender dysphoria and be forced to have half your face remain male?

And heres the thing, and this is for Asche, when you have had to do all this crap to cope, you don't even know what is you and what isnt.  I get this, my dysphoria clouds, the family needs cloud, the half century of abuse clouds, how do you break through all that to find the authentic core of your gender?

The mirror of truth.

Son of a bitch the fairy got loose again. 

Do not use a persons vulnerabilities to control them or attack them or manipulate them, it is evil.  Think first, then speak.

As to Jessica, understand this, I do not in any way think  that was her intent. Understand that, I wont tolerate an attack on her  by anyone here for stepping on the landmine of the volatility of Satinjoy's out of control female emotions.   But unfortunately for everyone now, the pin fell out of the satinjoy grenade, and it blew sky high.

I cant even see straight, I am so pissed.  At the past, at me for posting this, at being a ->-bleeped-<-..g emotional liability to the forum.  I know exacty what beam is high enough, how much rope, where to step off..... what tree is big enough, road long enough, car fast enough.

Thoughts never to be acted upon, but why the f...k do I have those places picked out and am aware of them.

Son of a bi---tch.

Jayce its a great question and I'll look at it when i calm down again, Id like to think about it.

You know you talked me into staying on forum, right?

Well my mother taught me that if I didn't have anything nice to say, to not say anything at all, so I'm keeping my mouth shut. But rest assured there is plenty I could say, I'm just not saying it, mainly because I've seen what happens. If you read this and it feels like an attack, ask yourself why. And if you do goddess please think before typing an answer in haste.

I pretty much lived in my own head until I was 17, at which point I started rebelling and never really stopped, there have been times when I've gone deep down the rabbit hole of substance abuse, but it always come back after scaring myself. If something stops being fun I just stop. Skateboarding is probably my drug of choice these days, but I'm not sure if it's less or more socially acceptable.

Quote from: Taka on November 14, 2014, 01:22:27 AM
a robot with too many programmers? maybe that wasn't the right word for what i meant, i hope you still understand it though, because i can't find a different word for this act where you only do what others told you to, and try to not even have your own emotions or opinions about it.
what you describe here, is the fuzziness i feel about you. if the effort were conscious, you'd probably do a much better job of masking the true self, and i'd have a clear, but wrong, picture of who you are.

Maybe I should have emphasized the "not very good at it" part.

Having kids has given me a whole new perspective on my growing up.  After seeing them and how they grow, I've realized that my whole family -- both parents' sides -- are the kind of people who aren't very good at being molded into something else.  We are what we are, and you either take us as we are, or you might as well move along and spare yourself a lot of frustration.

When I was growing up, everyone had the idea that children are a blank slate and can be turned into whatever you want to turn them into, you just have to beat on them long enough.  I call it the "if the screw doesn't fit, get a bigger hammer" approach, and we got hammered a lot.  It left me convinced that "everything I do is wrong" (cf. the song "Go Down, Hannah"), but it didn't actually turn me into a Good Collegiate Boy (Collegiate = the school's name.)  It did leave me with a life-long loathing for the state I grew up in and alienation from pretty much everything and everyone associated with my growing up.

The plus side is that, when my sons came along, I was sensitive to the possibility that the conventional child-rearing "wisdom" might be wrong.  There have been plenty of times when we'd get some advice from an "expert" and I'd look at my kids and realize, nope, this is not going to work, it's just going to be a train wreck.  But where my parents in that situation would assume that the experts knew better than they and would keep following the advice even when it was obvious it wasn't working, I never assume that the experts know best.  (The hardest times have been when it was obvious the experts didn't have a clue and I knew I didn't, either.  All I could do was to hold them and try to show them I loved them and then try stuff almost at random.)

I wish I could say I've managed to make their growing up easier or less demoralizing than mine, but at least I think they have the sense that I'm on their side.

I have lived days on end in a hell of man's making, killing people who I never met and never knew, picking my buddies brains off my face, rolling him and others up in their ponchos and loading them aboard choppers to be sent back home to their horrified parents amid the jeers and insults of protesting mobs. That was my in former lifetime, and now wishing for a quieter, more peaceful existence I sought to change my life from who I was to who I am. I have come to the place where I expect calmness and tranquility, I espouse serenity over drama. I can't help anyone achieve that in their own lives but I can encourage them to exercise self control. Many saw Rodney King as just another oversized, inebriated, drugged black man who took a brutal beating from the police, but out of that came the most poignant question of our time, "Can't we just all get along?" I'm asking the members of this forum that same pregnant question, each has to answer that within their own selves. I'll not condemn the moderators, they're not perfect either but they do what they feel is expedient at the moment and act as an extension of Susan's will in order to keep the site from becoming a war zone. Let's all exercise love, joy, peace and kindness and above all self control!

I relate to what Asche has said. I was tough on my two boys because my dad was tough on me and it seemed to work. However I found out that once I acquiesced to the idea they they were their own distinctly different and unique little human beings and took my foot off the backs of their necks before I crushed their spirits, they became who they were destined to become in spite of me.

my weird experience is that my mother guided me with an iron hand through childhood and adolescense. not because that's what happened to her, but because she blames her parents for having caused her a lot of misery by not forcing her to do things that she didn't really want todo back then. and for not locking jer in her room when she wanted to go out to party or meet a boyfriend.
she tried to do all the things to me that she thinks she needed when she was young.
she even still compares me to her, and that is one thing that infuriates me, she doesn't try to relate ti me as a completely different person even when i tell her i am not like her.

but... i still can't keep blaming her for my own misery. the misery in childhood, yes. but any current misery is mine to hold or throw away. can't blame her for my own mistakes as an adult. i blame her a lot for the things she does to my younger siblings though, i do feel like i have a right to protect them when i want to.

Taka in relation to two sides of the coin... or was it three. Our whole world is filled with polarizations. Either dark or light. One side of the coin or the other. Male or female. This or that. I mean we can't experience light and dark at the same time. We can't see both sides of the coin at the same time unless you have a mirror. But you are only seeing an image and not the actually both sides at the same time. Male or female, most people experience one or the other. This is where we come in. This is what I believe gives us so much trouble and strife. We can experience one or the other or both at the same time. Feeling male or female is not as confusing as feeling both at the same time. Oh yeah feeling female while trying to be male is not the easiest thing to pull off. Vice versa with feeling male and trying to be female I assume. But that can be rectified trough medicine. It's when you feel both at the same time that we are actually experiencing seeing both sides of the coin at the same time. Which is physically impossible. Kind of like taking us out of a 3 demensional world and throwing us into a whole different meaning of existance.

It's not really that bad and does have advantages to it but feeling both or experiencing both sets of characteristics physchologically, emotionally and or physically is sort of a conflict between two oppsites. It does make things harder in our lives. Oh yeah, getting bullied, called names, being left out and so on. But In my opinion we are lucky (even though it don't seem much like it) that we have a great sense of empathy for people of both genders. That when we talk with people of the oposite physical gender as our physical gender, we can truly understand what they feel and can identify with the emotions they are experiencing. So yeah, we see the third side of the coin which is nothing more than seeing both sides at the same time. Feels physically impossible and surreal. But it is there. Has been there all along. I think most people have differing levels of this but refuse to see themselves as anything but physical male or physical female due to body parts. But what most people in the world fail to recognize is that body parts isn't what makes a human being a person. That all comes from within due to personalities, you can have good and bad. Emotions, you can choose to hide them away or display them openly. And many other variables.

Anyway. I am who I am. I have tried to be my percieved birth gender. Failed miserably. Then was stuck with it for four years. I really don't think full transition is right for me either. Just for me though. It feels like I need to make and find a way for both to exist in harmony regardless of the outside, which that is kind of not really normal male or female either. For me it used to feel like a conflict inside. Either, Or. Now, even though the female is more prevailant in thought processes, emotions and so on, the male is still in the background. Until needed, which I hope that part is not ever needed again. So I guess I may have found the perfect balance between both. So seeing both sides of the coin is more normal. I just had to look through more female eyes than male. But still both though. It really is hard to make sense of it because it is seemingly physically impossible, but mentally though anything is possible.

yeah, that is a little bit righter. thank you jess.

i was really just having to write the feeling while it was there. it's too late when it disappears, even if that's when i can explain it best.
kind of like that feeling needs its own voice too.

What happened to my two to three sided gender fluid f-nieces and m-nephews?  :icon_ballbounce: Come home kids, time for dinner!

Quote from: Shantel on November 14, 2014, 07:09:45 PM
What happened to my two to three sided gender fluid f-nieces and m-nephews?  :icon_ballbounce: Come home kids, time for dinner!

Wathcha cookin' Aunti Shan? You can alway adopt me. I can be an m-niece or an f-nephew. ;)

Sorry for the outburst post, will clean it up and I apologize to the Christians and spiritual folk for the offensive profanity.

Snapped.  That's the trouble with long term abuse.

Will edit but need a computer.

Best to all.

Quote from: Satinjoy on November 15, 2014, 05:15:32 AM
Sorry for the outburst post, will clean it up and I apologize to the Christians and spiritual folk for the offensive profanity.

Snapped.  That's the trouble with long term abuse.

Will edit but need a computer.

Best to all.

Speaking only for myself (should always be assumed), but I don't see what was offensive about the outburst, and I consider myself "spiritual folk" and was raised a Christian.

It might be shocking to those who believe that expressing any negative emotion means you are an agent of Satan or something, but I'm not one of those.  Anger is a normal and, in many cases, the only appropriate response to certain experiences.  And it's better to let it out in a post in a forum where most of the readers (the regular ones, at least) can understand where such anger comes from.  Better than the way a lot of people do it: by making innocent people suffer.

And you did include a trigger warning.

Speaking only for myself, I'd rather people didn't delete or sanitize stuff that's been posted.  A couple of times I've read posts and then gone back and they weren't there any more, and it makes me feel like I've been gaslighted.  Like: did I read that or did I just imagine it?  Am I losing my marbles (even more than I already knew)?

Thank you

Jess42, consider the adoption finale, I have the papers here.

Made a nice beef stew, good for several days with lots of chunks of beef, potatoes, carrots, onion, green beans, canned tomatoes from my garden, two bay leaves, salt, pepper, a bottle of stout Guinness, garlic powder and Worcestershire sauce, made a rue to thicken the gravy, it's delicious, so everyone pull up a seat at the big table and enjoy.

Satinjoy, no gas lighting honey, be a big girl and settle down now and take your place at the table beside Grandma Julie, we all love you!

I need to be quiet for a while, and need also to be here.  Too emotional, could be hormonal, just feels off somehow.

I appreciate everyone's patience.

dear satinjoy.
i appreciate you.
to me, it's not a question of being patient. you're a friend and i love you because of who you are, angry outbursts included.
you wouldn't be you if you didn't do the things that you do.

The first extreme rage, after being beaten up.daily from the third grade by the farm boys, came in a stairwell after yet another is it he or she laugh at sj episode.  The boy wound up on the floor, I impending the air and had my shoes where they would crush his skull.  At the last second, I had just enough restraint to mis.  Then I ran away.

I was very effeminate.  Everywhere I went they called me ->-bleeped-<-got and laughed at me publically.

On a sports bus they had both the wrestling team and.football in a duel match.  One of the players publically started in, and while forcing me sideways started stroking my arm.  He got a knuckle sandwich, but not before the physical she in me responded automatically, while the he just wanted to die, in direct conflict with each other.  This is the first I have spoken of it.

I foughted being trans until my mind shattered, long before coming here, I came here after a year of therapy and nine months of hormones, to the mtf section.

Never let myself get too mad, not since the stairs.

Used to get blind drunk so the physical she could take over and get screwed.

It's been a little rough.

No worse than for any of us..

Satinjoy