Friday 12 February 2016

Mirror Image

Alright. So I feel like the last several posts have been a little hokey, particularly my most recent, I wrote in at 3am because I wanted to say something but I feel like it didn't come together all that well. Also, most of my last few haven't been quite the topics I used to write about, or as personal as I used to get. That has been for a few reasons. One is that I have been doing well lately, and the personal issues I used to write about are becoming fewer. Another is that I've become more self aware as I've travelled further down this path of self discovery and a little self conscious (very little, I'll get into this). Both of those reasons for my change in style are the same reasons I'm writing this one. So for those of you new to my blog, or that haven't read my earlier posts, prepare yourself.

I'm not sure if I have ever mentioned how impossible is it for me to actually see myself. To really realize I am one of the people in the world just like all of the other people I see on a regular basis. I see other people doing... whatever.. and it registers with me. I'm able to place them in the "plot" of real life as easily as people place the main character of a movie as part of the plot of the film. I can see a father, say, taking care of his kids in the mall. I associate the feelings he has for his kids to him, or how his kids feel about him, and even what other onlookers may or may not think or feel about the father. They are all connected with each other through time and space and thought. However when I consider myself, I simply cannot see the same things.

I'm not sure where this came from, or how long I've been this way and I've put a lot of thought into it. Is it from spending so much time alone, or in my own head? Is it because I am transgender and have always had a discontent toward my physical being, and what better way to remove that discontent than to just remove myself from life, so to speak? One thought I usually return to is all of those many years ago when I denied myself the act of physical suicide I wanted to do so badly I replaced it with a mental suicide. If you tell yourself over and over that you should be dead, that you don't really belong in the world, that everything and everyone would be better off without your presence then it becomes easier to tell yourself nothing about you matters. You just as well be dead, so why not act like it?

All I have been able to come up with are the effects it has had on me, some good I guess, and some bad. Some of the good is how I can speak my mind so freely and how I don't mind taking risks when it comes to the point of getting to a place I want to be or getting something I want. It is exactly how I was able to begin this blog. I know I was very personal but at the same time I felt more like I was writing about someone else entirely. What people may have thought about the person they were reading about meant nothing to me. Why should it? I'm already dead, what else can you do to me?

One of the worst effects is I have no inclination or ability to think my actions or words affect anyone in my life. This concept, I think, is the base of the results of my past and everything else stems from it. How do I say what I like to whoever I like? Because I truly feel and believe that what I say does not matter. I believe I have said before, "out of sight, out of mind. In the truest sense.". This is the reason why I think that way. If I go to a friends house, for example. We talk, about whatever, they seem to be engaged in the conversation most of the time but the second I leave I completely and utterly assume that my friends just had their last thought about me until I say hello again and I don't often say hello.

I guess that sounds like I could be judging them but that is the exact opposite of what I'm thinking, I'm judging myself. Of what importance is my friendship? Why would someone waste precious mental energy thinking anything about me once I'm gone? It seems to be total fiction to imagine someone thinking "I wonder what Rebecca is doing right now.". I completely feel the same way about my own actual death. I don't assume, I know (true or not, I'm not looking for pity) that when I die, no one would notice the difference.

I'm not even sure anymore if this is a good or bad way of thinking of ones self, it has become so baked into the cake of "Rebecca" that to not feel like this seems, not impossible but simply not who I am. I have been told on occasion by a few people that they think fairly highly of me. It's something I cannot believe but if I try to imagine a reason, my total lack of self awareness is what I come up with. Mainly because it is the one thing that seems constant in my life. Though I guess it is not hard to see how this leads to a serious drought of relationship, platonic or romantic, and an easy shedding of the ones I have at any given time.

What lead me to writing this post is an experience I had a few weeks ago. I don't remember why but I was in my bathroom looking in the mirror when suddenly I seen me. Every other time when looking in a mirror or at a picture of myself I feel like I'm just looking at a painting, or a movie clip. What I'm seeing is not the person behind the eyes doing the seeing. This time, for whatever reason I seen that person, I connected that image in the mirror to my thoughts. I was utterly shocked, I can't explain the initial feeling, real bewilderment is the best I can do. That moment of wonder turned to fear. I was suddenly terrified to be in the world around me, I almost panicked. It didn't take long though and both of those feelings turned into arousal. Seeing the person in the mirror as actually me started to turn me on, intensely, more that I have been in recent memory. I could hardly help but start masturbating right there and then. All sort of pleasant thoughts started going through my head at that point, the overwhelming thought being "Holy fuck, it's about time!" relating to my finally being, not just a woman, but the woman I wanted to be when I was a teen, the woman I have always longed to be. I finally felt relief, and realization of that longing. The emotional and physical being that I fervently shoved out of existence because no matter how much I wanted or felt I should be that way, it was unattainable, forever out of reach.

The unfortunate thing is that feeling left as quickly as it struck me. I returned to my impenetrable bubble of unawareness. The one thing I was left with is the knowledge of that feeling being there, of it being possible for me to feel that way again. And yes "again". I have always known it was a state of being that I once had, back when I barely knew the difference of who I was and who I was supposed to be, for lack of better words. It was the slow realization that I was not who I was supposed to be that led to being unconcerned with who I am now.

I guess that's the only happy ending to this story. I have a hard time seeing myself in the mirror still, or of thinking anything I do or say matters to anyone even myself. The later being a long journey that starts at the former. My purpose of sharing this experience is because I don't want anyone to think transitioning eventually becomes all roses. I am doing very well these days, well enough that my therapist and I have plans to dwindle down my sessions to finally zero. At the same time, I still have issues I have to deal with. The point now is I am capable of dealing with them. I think that is the goal in transitioning, rather than aiming for some sort of nirvana, aim to be able to take care of yourself.

Monday 1 February 2016

My Crowdfunding Page

So guess what everyone? I am getting breast augmentation! So I'm about to do something I don't do very often, ask for help. I'm getting close to having all the money I need but I'm turning to crowdfunding to ask for some help getting there. The link below will take you to my Gofundme page. I appreciate any support and I understand not being able to donate, but if you can at the least, please share the link, even that is a huge help. Thanks!

https://www.gofundme.com/transontherock