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Hitaru
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Posts posted by Hitaru
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67 days.
Almost a week in antidepressants and I think it's going well. If their goal was to make me feel neutral (but not empty), that's exactly how I'm feeling. Neat!
I finished my second smut piece! (since I wrote my first text years ago, but this one's the first in the present period.) It's none of the ones I was already working on, but an unhinged "fanfic" set in a certain world full of... bureaucracy.
Humiliation play and document stamping. 2.5k words voluntarily crunched in less than 48 hours. I know, I'm amazing.
And I also need to touch some grass. But in all honesty, it's a good piece, regardless of the sheer absurdity of it. I'm writing more serious ones as well, so letting the bullshit flow now and then is both good practice and very relaxing. I'm so glad I took it up. Writing kinda comes naturally to me.
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64 days.
3rd day of antidepressants. They're making me nauseous. Bleh.
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63 days.
So, who has two thumbs and has been prescribed antidepressants? Yes, this girl! Let's see how they go. I've been told multiple times I'll feel a bit shitty at the beginning, but it's not like I'm being expected anywhere at the moment. Bottoms up!
The paper I was told to be missing for my change approval was a mental health referral. Being trans was an illness back in 2007, the year the law was passed (and may as well become again if things keep going this way) so I need to prove to the government that I'm not crazy. Not in a way that "obstructs" transness. Somehow, since transness is not an illness and the "disqualifying conditions" are not mentioned. Right.
Because I was already screened for mental health as a condition to begin the (mandatory, remember) hormone treatment, keeping it for 2 years should have been proof enough. That's how it usually works and what I had expected at the beginning.
And then the judge insisted I needed even more documents and they were the final authority to believe it or not, without even meeting me, after going through several doctors and bureaucrats.
The shrink got so mad when I asked for a mental health referral for the sex change. All offended in her professional dignity. Yeah, like, your drama. How compelling. Of course you can say "No one can ask me to do anything like that" and go home with a clean conscience. Because sister, they are asking it, for me.
The weirdo with the skirt and the pee-pee, remember? The social outcast and potential moral nightmare. The family values breaker so and so. Must be nice not being legally questioned your existence and sanity, huh? I missed that part tho, I was hidden at my mothers house, wasting my youth away with games, escaping from reality and feeling like a monster.
To her credit, after her cis guilt outburst she agreed to do a clinical, aseptic assessment of my symptoms and syndromes (or rather, lack of them) and see if the judge can take a hint.
I've been also directed to LGBT-friendly legal services to help me address what was probably ill intention or gross ignorance from the folks involved in the process. This is supposed to be a fairly simple paper shuffling, the hard part being the waits and the cruelty of it all. I was just randomly picked as a target for day ruining, with months and months of pointless wait as icing of the cake.
After the judge wrote the note ruling the denial, 3 months after my request, they took a whole month to sign it and make it official. The text is two lines and half long. They could have signed it right then and forward it but they took a month, and only after I insisted. That's how casually dehumanizing it is. I can't change my name until this is sorted out. Imagine being nameless for a month. Imagine being it for your whole life until now.
But, I got my chill pills now, so things are moving forward. Societal collapse is approaching and it has to meet me in my best shape.
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62 days, two months mark! :3
Leaving now for my social security mental health appointment. It can go badly, so I'm writing the celebratory post first and tomorrow I'll handle whatever sour mistreatment may (or may not) come my way.
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60 days. Two months in 13 hours.
Feeling stuck indeed, but at least I've been clearing my room at snails pace, with the idea of moving out soon-ish. Also writing a lot! Almost finished my first text.
I may need to travel to my hometown soon for a birthday party (and if I'm lucky, sort my papers out). I'm absolutely leaving the laptop here, to test how it would feel to leave it for the whole summer with my friends here once my flatmates depart. My mother still has one so I'll need to ask her to put a password and the basic stuff. She'll be grumpy about it but I think I'm allowed to set my own conditions to handle a 20 year long addiction.
Still, not ideal. I'm softening to the idea of spending holidays at home and I don't believe it'll do good to me. Beach and gentler weather, yes, but also the dreadful atmosphere of the past, the chance of random encounters with unpleasant people while I'm still in boymode and the even scarier prospect of surrendering myself to try to study my next thing there (which, while I still have a clear head free from specific deadlines, I don't think it would work. Again.)
Goddess, please help me pick whatever I wanna do next at once. The whole purpose was to take a "simpler" path of employment (far away from academics, the constant need to hear and come up with bullshit written and spoken in an obscenely obscure language), to be able to free mental space and creativity to eventually pour it into post-work endeavors.
So why am I doubting so much? What is it that I wanna do? [And no girl, "half lewd model half smut writer" and leading a life of careless debauchery is not a reasonable option. No matter how appealing in some alternate universe free of patriarchy. Unless grossly pressed for cash that is. And, huh, I wouldn't journal that part if it actually happened]
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58 days.
Went to therapy yesterday and the cravings later were insane. It's ok now. They pass. I'm still salty about needing to make future life decisions based on not being left alone with a computer. Like how inconvenient would be to go back to my mother's place for the summer. At least I'm eating and sleeping, that's been my mantra for the last couple months. I'm also feeling prettier lately.
My last rant seems to have invoked the gods of bureaucracy and the judge has deigned to forward their note explaining why they were rejecting my application to legal girlhood. I'm missing a paper I believe I'm not, but the old usual, see me rolling, they gatekeepin'. So I'll find my way to send them the stupid thing.
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55 days.
I spent some days at my friends place and my health got better (sun, socialization and consistent meals most of it). At some point my friend sat down with me and told me that, while he was seeing a lot of progress he shouldn't become the enabler of a new status quo, since I still have issues to fix in my life. So even tho he wasn't kicking me out I immediately packed my things and went back to my place. I've made minor progress with life decisions but I won't stop.
But man, I could really use those antidepressants. My evaluation is in a week, it can't arrive soon enough.
As an added problem, a judge denied my sex change with no explanation given and no intention to clarify. That actually isn't as important as it sounds but since I didn't change my name beforehand, they denied my name change as well. And that IS a real bother if I wanna apply to more stuff. Shit's draining. What else do they want? Been State-mandated medicated for years, I have my papers in order, I have a public doctor saying I'm not whatever danger to society they may believe I am. My p-word doesn't work, thank you very much (no regrets!), so yeah, I'm at worst a completely harmless weirdo. Just leave me be, man. Me being the utterly ruined "guy" from the beginning of my journal, business as usual. Bitch says turns out I'm a gal and suddenly I'm everyone's problem. The hell. If the fash rise even more and I'm forced to go back, I'm becoming the worst nuisance I can manage. I'll throw car batteries into water wells for sport. Should have let me wear those skirts, pal.
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50 days.
I can write a minimum of 100-150 words each day for works I have already started and need to be thought over. It's not unusual for me to write around 500. I can do better but it's a good start and I'm in no rush to pressure myself. 250 words is a book page average. 50k words is a 200 page novel. My longest writing so far has around 5k and it's not finished yet, I guess it'll be around 8k. I'm sticking to short stories at the moment but I would love to write a long one someday. Who knows. No expectations.
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48 days.
Life is so short. And lately, I've been ok with that.
Someone gave me a writing prompt that I've absolutely loved and it has motivated me to start taking reading seriously. Gotta learn my deal before making my own.
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45 days, second detox halfway done.
Feels like so little and a lot at the same time. I think the "so little" part comes from believing I will relapse the moment I lay my hands on a computer again. And to be honest with myself, that's still how it is. In his last video, @Cam Adairmentions how urges are fueled by doubt and that's the current situation. I'm doubting about games in the context of doubting everything else in my life, but I still don't have anything else to oppose games with (or rather, a bunch of things piled together to be equally strong). But I'll get there eventually if I keep going. I just need to... keep going.
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On 4/20/2022 at 2:03 AM, goodvibes said:
way to go on both we're definitely better off for having tried maybe the therapy will prove useful, congrats!
I've been in therapy since last October and it's been a very literal life saver.
BUT, I also have plenty of experience with botched therapists and I know how draining and disheartening can be to meet someone who doesn't work for you (or is a plain abuser). You need a certain amount of self awareness to use your intuition and that can be too much to ask while depressed or during a crisis. It's not easy, at all. But I'm glad I hit the target this time.
43 days. I've been more consistent with my hormone regime along with eating and tiddy hurts again. Growth. Literally!
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40 days!
I tried to apply for a job offer today but had an anxiety attack. I'll try again after some more therapy. At least the offer was a bit shady (no salary or references from the employer) so I may have dodged a bullet there.
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I took the offer and had a semi-decent stay, I'm back at my place now. Bad stuff happened but I want to focus on the good: I'm very happy about being able to feel hunger and eat more consistently now. I feel like I'll be able to handle two meals a day on my own soon, and that would be honestly great. Some day I'll be fluffy and people will love to cuddle me. You'll see, you'll see...
About to reach 39 days (a new day is counted at midday spanish time. It's 8:55 here now)
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Five weeks (and a day in a couple hours). Cravings still very there. I may travel back to my mother's for the holidays but I'm not particularly enthusiastic about the idea. A couple of friends are offering the ride so I should probably just take it, to keep me distracted if anything.
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My quest to get medication begins today. It'll take me a month in the best case scenario. "Touch wood", a Spanish saying goes. Fingers crossed, in both languages. Which medication, by the way? Not even the doc is sure. Antidepressants would be nice but so would be something for the attention deficit disorder. Any medication will do me some good.
After the appointment, the withdrawal symptoms spiked. I'm safe now since the laptop is hidden, but I should make a contingency plan for future triggers.
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I'm not ok. But at least I've come this far.
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After Sunday my mental health crashed. I wrote a su*cide plan after a very nasty nightmare, but the sections about "What do I feel I need to finish before committing" ended up being a detailed description of what I feel lacking in my life, long held regrets, etc. My therapist thinks all that info (things and people in my life, present and past) may be useful later on, so I'm only getting rid of the "logistical parts" and perhaps I can use the rest to put my priorities and thoughts in order. No promises, it'll take time.
I'll do my best to link the idea of fixing my current life with recovery and moving on, instead of wrapping up and calling quits. The bad kind of quitting, not our kind of quitting. 28 days, speaking of that. This time it feels like I've really worked for every single one of these days, not just letting them pile up. I'm in a very dark place right now, but steady as she goes.
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Having withdrawal thoughts, so it really was a good idea choosing not to know where my laptop is. They hurt but I will manage.
My first writings are going great (so far I've written 7.373 words in 10 days, excluding revisions), I'm more optimistic in the search of a new education path and my head feels a bit clearer each day. Looking forward to reaching the month.
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3 weeks now. Good work, me! 🌟
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A couple of friends were moving yesterday and they called on a whole bunch of queers to help carry plant pots and assorted millennial utilities. I was among that bunch of queers, we had pizzas and chilled afterwards and it was really fun and all the "found family fanfic" gimmick.
QuoteOf course, I'm being sarcastic about it because, as a bullied nerd, stuff like this is what I always wanted and I'm terrified of losing it. It's bound to happen even if I don't screw up since time and circumstance inevitably change but, well. Let's make most of it!
It is hard to find friends as an adult, but I guess one of the unintentional perks of being with the weirdos is connection through mutual recognition. It's not easy to find time to meet in person, but if you have a good disposition and keep the hot takes on Twitter to a respectable degree, at the very least you'll always have some 'little gay people on your phone' to talk to.
I have also confirmed that I'm actually not antisocial ("Congratulations!", says the clapping penguin in the background) and the huge drops in my emotional state after having good times (the 'social hangovers') are dopamine imbalances related to neurodivergence. As long as I plan my recoveries, I think I have a lot of room to improve my energy levels and have meaningful experiences. Bring on those shiny new spoons.
So in order to nurture that budding sense of community (and avoid spending too much time at home sulking) I'm making a list of spaces and activities I can go. There's enough to keep me busy until summer and probably beyond, so that's great news.
And, more urgent to the healing of my perhaps misguided sense of worth - and my wallet-, I've been feeling more capable of daring to seek employment. I was too ambitious with my last hair experiments and had to shave my head a second time (first one was weeks before starting HRT). For a trans woman this is huge and yeah I'll have to deal with it for an amount of time I'm making my best effort not to consider. But perhaps looking like a boy again has advantages. It would be an ideal time to mingle with the normies and get some shitty job until my name change arrives. Like upholding the Masquerade, without the racist and mentalist parts. Working online is also an option. I'll write down any advances in this front of my life as soon as they happen.
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Been dabbling in some writing the past couple days. It may go as fast as it arrived but it's nice to feel some initiative coming back. Or being born at all. I've been more hungry lately even tho I don't always act on it and still skip meals, and today was the first day I took my whole daily hormone dosage since a solid couple months.
It's frustrating and having all this time to think is not exactly fun for my mental health at the moment, but things seem to be looking up.
I'm fully aware this small progress would vanish the instant I had access to my old video games, but it's way too early to think about that.
14 days now.
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Checked in with the public addiction health service today. I had already went once in my hometown a bajillion years ago so we had a fun time changing my name and gender from the automated files. I had to explain it was possible to do so in our current neo-feudal legal framework of regional laws, so I guess my field of study isn't that bad despite me being disillusioned with it lately.
We even had to change the addiction itself, since it was registered as 'gambling' (same word in Spanish for both). Back then gaming addiction wasn't yet a thing (and folks in this forum such as yours truly helped made it official, remember? Good times). The social worker made interesting remarks, like the average time between the development of a pathological addiction and seeking help ranging from 10-15 years from the former to the later (which would also be consistent here I think).
The rest of the interview, aside from the perfunctory questions about my behavior, was chit chatting about trans stuff. It always comes down to that. And they call us obsessed geez. She was particularly astonished when I told her to make her life easier by limiting herself to ask name and pronouns when meeting a person she can't outright read by appearance. As if I had just unfolded some dark mistery to her. Cis people are funny, almost cute (?)
Again, I don't want to jinx it and I've told her the same, but perhaps... just maybe, I am making true progress this time. She told me the cycle of relapse and quitting felt rewarding to the brain. Something in the brain, sometimes subconsciously, is assuming relapse will eventually happen. That comes with its own set of learned behaviors that must be retrained so a true commitment can happen. To her credit, that info was worth the mild annoyance at the well intentioned but out of place encouragement to eat more and present myself more femme, regardless of how I feel about both things. So yeah, been here and there lately, hope it brings back good things.
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I'm not saying I would detransition for an afternoon of video games. But oh boy, right now I would give it a think.
11 days in.
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On 3/18/2022 at 8:01 PM, goodvibes said:
I feel the same way, I would actually miss a lot of meals at times when I was gaming but now that is quite rare apparently!
So glad to hear. The amount of issues you can fix through nourishment, hygiene and sleep is absurd. It sounds like another trap of the "hyper efficient culture" consumer society. I used to look down at it. It's not. It fcking works.
Keep it up ❤️
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Captain Taru's Log: Out of the Fog
in Daily Journals
Posted
68 days.
Landlady is showing the flat tomorrow and I was able to clean up my room in preparation. Had to take some ADHD meds for it but at least it's done. I shouldn't be ashamed of medication either. It just makes me frustrated being unable to be like the rest. Oh well. Clean room.