Facebookless

I deactivated my facebook the other day. This is day 3. It’s weird and then not weird. It’s weird because I usually go there when I’m bored but it’s not weird because it never cures my boredom.

Also, I’ve been thinking about asking to be on a stimulant. I’m not really feeling the desired effects of the wellbutrin. Sooooo…..

I don’t see the point

I know this can sound melodramatic but when you’re by yourself doing the same old thing you have time to think. What is the point? What is the point of staying alive if you want to die? You may get a great job, have a nice house, have a nice family. You may not. And even if you knew you’d have a family, is it worth staying around for? I don’t think I would. If someone told me the exact moment I would feel happy it would help but it wouldn’t stop me from considering suicide, and here’s why: When someone tells a person “You just have to make it through highschool” or “It’ll only take a couple years” it sounds like a small chunk of time. But in every year there are 12 months; 365 days; 8,760 hours; 525,600 minutes (cheers to Rent); 31,536,000 seconds and I feel every one of them. Most of them I feel by myself. So you take that and multiply it by two or four or ten and add in ruminative bad memories, ceaseless guilt, unexpressed anger, worthlessness, hopelessness, anxiety. In my case, you add in gender issues and family issues, too. Feeling some of that stuff every now and then throughout a year is one thing. Dealing with most of that stuff almost all the time is something different. Every moment is a battle. Any one of those battles could be your last. Every person is not a warrior, every person has a limit. There’s a lot of criticism about depression and depressed people. Some of those include: Think positively, be grateful for what you have, smile, you don’t have it that bad, have faith, and personal anecdotes with the moral of the story being “I did it, you can too” or “You’re just weak”. All of those are bollocks. And it’s pretty arrogant to think that persons with depression haven’t thought of those already.

Another thing that’s difficult to deal with is loss of trust. Feeling like you can’t trust anybody makes you isolate yourself. If you’re familiar with prisons or war tactics, you know isolation is a form of torture. It’s not that I enjoy torturing myself, but being lonely has no affect on whether or not you trust people.

Guilt is another thing I deal with. I mentioned it before but I’ll tell you what I meant. My life on most counts is not that bad. I have all the necessities and a little more. But I’m still sad. I feel guilty for being sad. The result? I beat myself up over it, my self-esteem decreases, and now I’m even more sad. Every time I’m reminded of what I have, I go through that cycle like a ritual. You do that enough times and you start to feel worthless. Imagine all the things you’ve seen at yard sales or on a street vendor’s cart. Now I can expand on what it means to feel worthless. It’s worse than looking down while you walk home watching your feet kick up dust. Keep imagining those items. You are worth less to me than a tv. You are worth less to me than a bedding set. You are worth less to me than that lamp. I would rather have Russian nesting dolls than spend time or energy on you. I would trade you for a dollar. I would trade you for a penny. The yard sale hosts don’t want you. At the end of the day you are the only thing left. The hosts offered to pay someone to take you. They refused. That is what it feels like to be worthless. Any smile or kind act is done out of pity. Your main goal when interacting with people is not to be a nuisance. You apologize for small things, you apologize for things that aren’t your fault. You apologize for existing, and the apology is sincere even if it’s not directed at anyone in particular.

Ruminating memories is like having the worst day of your life filmed on camera. The time when you felt the most alone or seething anger or inconsolable anxiety, the time you felt the most humiliation, the time you felt most stupid, the time you felt worthless. The footage is transfered to a chip that is inserted into your brain. You have no control over when you see the footage and you don’t know how long it will play.

I want to talk about gender too. It’s not a big deal in and of itself. It is a sizable deal but not everything. What makes it impossible to ignore is that every morning your clothes don’t fit how they should. Every time you look in a mirror you can’t really see yourself. You go to the dentist and they give you a pink toothbrush. You are grouped with girls in a classroom competition. You have to sing in class but you’re frustrated because even though your voice is pretty low, it’s not low enough so you have to sing an octave higher. You are offered the chance to play the lead drum in your ensemble performance because it would be great to have a female drummer. Women engage in phatic discussion with you, indicating that you are undeniably one of them. Male friends and acquaintances greet you with a hug instead of a handshake. Then there’s the whole boob thing. On the other side of things, there’s stares in the bathroom, assumptions that you know or do certain things on the sole basis that you’re a girl. Then there’s the “Hey, girl!” and the list goes on. My point is that it’s not just an isolated thing. You are dealing with mind-body dissonance there are very few times in a day that you are not reminded of it.

Back to my original question. What is the point? What is the point of dealing with all this? What if one day I wake up and I’m happy for the rest of my life? Is that what I’m fighting for? And then what after that? I go to school, get a job, have some friends, but how long do I have to wait? How many battles do I have to fight? What is the point of being alive if you’re not living?

Day whatever on Wellbutrin

Day 16, I think. I upped my dose Monday. I don’t remember what I did but I remember feeling productive. Today I got my homework done for next week. I mean it took me 8 hours between tv and ddr but I wanted to do it and I did. I’ve have these kinds of days before so I’m not ready to say it’s the medicine only because it’s only been two days.

Anything else to share? Less tics I think. Still depressed. My mom cooked for me so at least I’m eating more than $1 burritos/hot pockets and candy corn. So that’s good. Been “working out”. Earned some money (actually turned in my timesheet). Idk. I’m typing with one hand and I’m sleepy so…that’s it I guess.

Lonely

I think I’m lonely because there’s no one like me around me. Once in a while I’ll come upon something on Tumblr or hear about some group or read a good blog post but they’re never around me. I need some like-minded friends.

Day …9 on Wellbutrin, aka Bored to Death

Monday, I upped my dose to 150mg. I don’t really notice any differences in my mood or focus. I haven’t felt anything since the first day. Second day was back to normal, and nothing since then. I don’t like taking pills.

Get Lost

I have reached a point where I’m tired of being alone but don’t feel like being around people either. Tomorrow starts February which means I’ve been pretty much alone for 8 solid months not counting the once or twice a month that I hang out with someone who’s not a member of my nuclear family. I don’t see that changing any time soon. I’ve been trying to stay on top of my homework and stuff and so far I’ve been successful but by the time I finish, it’s already dark or about to be dark. I love nighttime but not as much as daytime, of course. But I don’t like nighttime in the city. Things go wrong. Since it gets dark so early I rarely get out of my apartment. Maybe my feelings are a mix of loneliness and cabin fever. Plus I don’t want to spend money. If I go out, I will spend money on food or, God forbid, a trinket that will hold my attention for a day or a week and then become decoration on a desk, table, or the floor. Anyway, the next time I have a break I think I’m gonna get lost on the bus. Just pick a line and see how far it goes. And hopefully I make it back before it gets dark.

Stream of Consciousness Pt. 1

You know that feeling when you think someone’s mad at you and you’re not sure if it’s self-deprecation or if you should be trying to evaluate every word and action of the event in question? I think I should move to Japan. From what I’ve learned in my linguistics class, they’re my kind of people. Everything is spoken with the addressee’s perception in mind. That goes for men and women. Gray areas are cool. Caring what someone thinks and feels is a mark of maturity, not spinelessness. I heard from someone else that when you buy clothes, regardless of which section you buy it from, someone is willing to help you find it in your size. I’m sure it’s not perfect; nothing is. For example, I do not like to be touched. On the subways, people take up every inch of room. People literally fall out when the doors open. Tomorrow I up my dosage for wellbutrin. Meh… I read something that articulated everything I am currently feeling about life. Well not everything but what it did articulate was spot on. The internet at this school is crap. I feel like an alien, like I’m not made for this world. I can’t force myself to change even though I try hard to blend in or bend myself to fit. I am playing a really long game of twister. It feels like cramming for a test all the time. The information is all sitting on top of my brain but never sinks in. I feel everything deeply and sincerely, even when it’s not mine to feel but have a high threshold. Maybe I’m breaking down because I’m near capacity or over it, even. Not breaking down like in the movies, more like a car. First the light in the backseat won’t turn on, then only one windshield wiper works, the air conditioner blows hot air, the windows won’t roll down, you have to jimmy the lock and pump the breaks, the seat won’t readjust, the belts are loose, the engine is hot, the oil leaks. Before you know it you’re climbing in through the window, using hand signals to turn, and then it stops. That’s how I feel. Last but not least, I’ve been trying to figure out how I think, not in terms of learning style but in terms of thinking and processing. I believe it’s a combination of words, pictures, words as pictures, feelings, and colors.

Day 1 on Wellbutrin

No improvement with concentration but my mood was more even. I’m not sure but I think it’s helped with anxiety a little too. No side effects to speak of, either. I heard in a review that it makes getting up in the morning easier so I’m hoping for that tomorrow but I’m also going to sleep early. The past couple of nights I’ve had to knock myself out to get to sleep (by holding my breath, thus cutting off the oxygen to my brain. Not by punching myself in the face). The only sucky thing about this is that I have to eat breakfast now so I’m not taking the pill on an empty stomach. I wouldn’t mind eating breakfast if it didn’t mean that I have to make breakfast, which means I have to wake up earlier, which is why I’m going to sleep 3-4 hours ahead of my usual time. I’m actually kind of tired though so hopefully everything will work out.

Peace. Also if you read this, we should talk. I don’t really talk to anyone because I feel like a nuisance but I figure if you care enough to read this, I don’t annoy you as much as I think.

On masculinity in FTMs

So, I’m back, but only briefly. I just saw this vid of a guy explaining what transgender meant. He goes on to say “I was never female, I was born in the wrong body. That’s that. There’s nothing feminine about me.” And I remembered someone talking about gender policing among the trans community. They were expressing that if someone wants to begin hormones but doesn’t fit the I’ve-never-touched-a-doll-in-my-life-I-used-to-rip-dresses-off-of-my-body-as-a-baby stereotype then they are punished with lack of support. Obviously I am opposed to this bullying but the macho description to me is hilarious. Maybe just to me. If you go on Youtube and look at some intro vids of ftms, you might find the humor in it as well.

Trying not to jinx it.

Just had my quarterly butt shot (depo provera) and for the first time in 2.75 months, I’m not leaking. A lot of people stop leaking after a year. The shot before this last one was my one year mark. I am hoping that this is the straw that breaks my womb’s back but I’m not declaring anything because I don’t want to jinx it.

Starting the tabs tomorrow. I’m trying to remember everything I have to do and make a list so in case this stuff is awesome, I know what to do with my new focusing abilities. So far I have take out the trash, find a pill box, and getting a birthday present. And also homework. I feel like I’m missing a ton of stuff though. I am reorganizing my schedule and stuff. Oh yeah! Work. I have so much to catch up on. Between trying to get back into the swing of things, my low energy levels, and last weeks events, I haven’t been working.

I went to church today because someone invited me but I can’t stand the pulpit bullying, even if the intent is pure. The band and singers were amazing, though. They sounded professional.

The end. I am off to finish learning Listen on the piano.