Anxiety

I haven’t updated in a while now, but since last I wrote here, I got my apartment to myself again. R moved in with his girlfriend on trial during the second week in March – he planned to stay there about three weeks, then come back for a couple of weeks before staying there a few more weeks – so they could see if it worked for them to live together. During the first weekend in April he came and picked up his things, apparently it worked between them and they decided to properly move in together right away – fine by me.

Today it ended between them. So R wrote to me and asked about coming back here in the beginning of May.

And I’ve spent the whole day after that near an anxiety attack. And every time I really think about having somebody else living here right now, I end up shaking.

Reason: I’m quite comfortable right now, with the apartment (that I’ve given a thorough cleaning), with my work placement (that’s going really well and I love), with my social situation (that’s pretty chill and completely on my own terms at the moment), with my personal projects (baking for my up-coming birthday, cosplay planning and making, costume making, other small stuff in the process of being created) – I’m not at a place right now where I want (or can handle) constant interaction with somebody else, I need to be able to be in my own world, my own space, without the presence of other human beings. Otherwise everything else – including my mind – will end up suffering. Because I can’t handle that right now. And I really don’t want to end up backtracking my well-being.

So I did one of the hardest things for me to do: I put myself first. I told R that I don’t think I can handle him moving back here right now. That I need to think about myself for the time being.

It took me many hours to send him my response, because I have trouble with putting myself first. I feel guilty and like I’m doing something wrong, even though I’m not.

He’ll get to store his stuff here, and I told him I’ll tell him if the situation changes.

It’s now the middle of the night (give or take a few hours, depending on your definition of “middle of the night”) and I can’t muster up the energy to get tired enough for sleep. My anxiety levels are too high, and I feel really bad about basically being part of R being homeless again. But I need to think about myself, about my own mental health, put myself first for once.

There’s nothing wrong with that, right? I’m not being too selfish, am I?

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Stop having sex on my sofa!

Seriously? Again? In the middle of the day, with me in the room? Sure, I’m in my bed area, the shelves between us, headset on and watching stuff on my computer. But, really? Come on! Show some fucking respect! You told me yesterday that her being here wouldn’t disturb me or inflict on my day and space. You really think I’m comfortable moving around in my own apartment when you’re on the sofa bed having sex!?

Come on! I might like sitting in my little space with my computer, but that doesn’t mean I like not being able to leave the area whenever I feel like it – because I’m scared to let you know I actually can hear you!

I don’t like confrontation. Especially these kinds of confrontations! Just stop having sex in my apartment! Save that until you’re at her place! Please!

You’ve been together for a day or two. You can’t wait until the weekend to have sex? Or at least wait until you’re somewhere alone?

I’m glad I have early plans tomorrow. That’ll help me a lot in not letting her stay one more night. I need proper sleep tonight, after all.

So, how about you two stop having sex on my sofa bed and get dressed? So I actually can move around my own apartment freely?

Sexy times…

R’s girlfriend spent the night again. Well, I allowed her to do that (it is my apartment, and I’m letting R live here for free, so it is my decision only).

She went home yesterday as planned, but wanted to spent today with R (and see my cats again), because it’s her birthday today. I don’t see a problem with that, as long as she doesn’t stay too late since I need to get up early Tuesday. I’ll just ignore them and keep doing whatever I want to do (again; my apartment). Since she lives a couple hours away (or something like that), she asked if she could come back during the evening/night and sleep here again. Okay. That’s fine. I’ll just deal with not sleeping as well as usual one more night – I have trouble sleeping properly with strangers in the same room.

I live in a one-bedroom-apartment (with a small kitchen, hallway and a bathroom). The only thing separating my bed from the rest of the room is bookshelves – I’ve put them so I get an almost-bedroom and a livingroom around/outside it. R is sleeping on the sofa bed on the other side of the bigger bookshelves, so not really more than a couple of meters between us.

I regretted being kind a bit after going to bed and trying to fall asleep.

They started having sex. And this time I’m sure about it. Amongst the breathing and quiet moans, I heard things like “Can I come?” and “Is it good for you?”. I had to listen to her having four or five orgasms – not something I like listening to!

I don’t know what exactly they did. If it was just hands, oral, or full out penetrations. But that really doesn’t matter! Who the hell does something like that? I think it’s pretty respectless to have sex in somebody else’s apartment, on their sofa bed, in the same room as the one letting you stay over! Am I alone in thinking that?

And I’m too fucking chicken to make them aware of me still being awake. And too fucking chicken to tell R that I don’t want them doing that in my apartment – especially when I’m still at home. Doesn’t matter if they think I’m asleep.

It would be different if I was the one staying over at their place. Then I would have to accept them doing whatever they want. Since it would be their place. Not mine. But now it is my apartment they’re having sex in. With me almost right next to them.

Right now they’re laying on the sofa bed, still under the covers, talking. Naked. Yes, I know that they’re naked. They’ve showed enough of themselves for me to be sure about that. And they weren’t really discrete when undressing last night either.

Hopefully they’ll respect that I need to get up early tomorrow. I have work again and I start earlier than last week. I don’t want to have to remind them when it’s starting to get late. I want them to respect me enough to actually realise when it’s getting time for her to leave.

But I guess I’ll just have to wait and see…

Moving out?

So, my temporary roommate (let’s call him R) went out and spent some time with a group of people yesterday evening/night. When he got back, he had a friend with him – he asked if it was okay before bringing her. Apparently she’d missed her bus and couldn’t get home. They spent the night whispering and, I think, did some mild sexual stuff. Can’t say for sure, wasn’t really like I checked or saw them, it just sounded like it on her breathing from time to time.

(And who does that shit with someone else in the room? It feels so disrespectful.)

Today they’re apparently a couple – they decided to try it out, since they clicked and seemed to fit together. Whatever makes them happy. R will be spending some weekends at her place during the following weeks, and if everything works out he will be moving in with her instead.

If they work out, that would mean I get my apartment to myself again. And earlier than expected, since that would remove the need for R to find his own place. But time will show if they work together or not, in the meantime I’ll just keep on as if R will stay here until he finds an apartment (or until it stops working for me to have him here).

Happenings

There’s been a lot happening these last few months.

A couple of weeks before Christmas I had a conversation with a stranger at the bus stop near my apartment – a stranger that turned out knowing a friend of mine here, and somebody from my small hometown too. He is an older man, around 50 years  old, that’d become homeless that day. The person he’d been staying with wanted to be alone again – they’re still friends, just not able to live together anymore.

We ended up talking on the bus. In the end I offered him my sofa bed, so he didn’t have to live outside and hope to get a bed at the homeless shelter every night. He’s been staying here since then, while looking for his own place.

It’s going quite well – we’re pretty alike in some aspects, which helps I guess. Some times I miss my space (I have a pretty small apartment after all), but overall it works. I think it has a lot to do with him being very respectful of it actually being my place, and helping out with buying food and other things. He often tells me how grateful he is for being allowed to stay here.

During the first month, he told me he loves me. That threw me some. But he made it clear that he doesn’t expect anything back – no answer, no reciprocation, nothing. Which is good, ’cause I would not be comfortable saying it back. Because I can’t say it’s true, and I don’t believe in saying “I love you” without really meaning it – and knowing that I mean it. I actually have a hard time with love, I’m not sure I know how it feels to really love somebody (but I’ll probably write a proper post about that subject later – I started writing about it on paper a few weeks back).

Aside from getting a temporary roommate, I’ve been looking for work placement. Found a place that was willing to take me on, so I started earlier this week. Part time. But if it works out, it’ll expand to full time after a while. I’m placed at a school where I’m helping where needed in the hallways, class rooms and the school’s youth club. I’ve helped out in a few sewing classes, and from next week I’ll probably have a few sewing classes where I’ll be the “permanent” help.

Yesterday, I had my first meeting with the surgeon that will do my breast reduction. I’ll probably get a time for the first operation some time during the following three months – and I say first operation because there might be a second one, if there’s something that needs to be adjusted after the first one.

I’ve been on the hormone treatment six months, by the way. So there’s been some changes for me. I’ve gotten more body hair – pretty much everywhere – including more stubble (I’ve shaved a few times already). It’s not really going on a beard yet, but I can see that it’ll get there in the not so distant future. I’ve gained about 8 kilo, and my breasts have shrunk somewhat. One big downside is that I’ve gotten a lot of annoying acne, on the face and shoulders.

Oh yeah! My voice keeps changing, and breaking. My friends notice it more than I do, but it’s nice that it’s happening.

Well, that’s all I want to write about right now…

Boring life?

I live a pretty boring life. Most of my life I live through reading. I read almost all the time. It’s a great way to experience different things, without having to do anything. Without having to spend money I don’t have. Without becoming a victim for my social anxiety. Without having to really live.

But it’s a terrible way to live life. Because I don’t really experience anything. I don’t do anything. I don’t live. I hide away and ignore.

I don’t want to live a boring life. I have a lot of things I want to do. The thing I want to do soon, is travel to London and stay there 3-4 weeks. And I want to do this alone – or at least mostly alone, wouldn’t complain if someone I know is there only a few days too – because I want to enjoy it my way. By walking around and do nothing. By being able to make up my mind as I go. And at the same time, live, experience and make to most out of the trip. If possible I’d like to do this next year. But I don’t really think I’ll be able to do that, since I don’t have an income that allows for me to save money.

So, I live a boring life. But my life hasn’t really been boring, if you see to things I’ve been through (though I haven’t been through anything if you compare to others, but I try to not compare myself or my life with others). I’ve lived through being bullied, being sexually taken advantage of by my uncle, depression, moving far away by myself several times, being practically homeless, lost one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, coming out as transgender, and in over the years I’ve found a great community, rekindled a dwindled friendship, made great new friends, become stronger and developed as a person. And I’m currently working on my transition.

I might not have lived through big events or changes, or had an eventful life if you compare to some or if you look at the lives people live in books and movies. But I’ve been through both good and bad stuff, and if I were to write it all down, I might see that I’ve had an eventful life – even if it’s been smaller events. And I’m young still. So I’ll probably live through a lot more good and bad stuff.

My life feels boring, it feels like nothing ever happens and like I don’t even live sometimes, but if I really think about it? My life’s not really boring, it might be in a slump at the moment, but that’ll change. I’ll just have to do my best and work through it in the meantime. And look forward to the time when I actually can do the things I really want to do.

Until then, I need to learn to enjoy the lazy days and to let go of the pressure to find a job and to do this and that. Even as unemployed, I have the right to not think about it all the time. I have the right to do things, no matter how small, without feeling guilty or stressed over it. And it’s also alright for me not to have the energy to do things, or to not have the money to do things. I have my reading. And I have friends who understand my situation. I can live a boring life at the moment.

I just need to understand that boring isn’t necessary bad. And a day spent reading, doesn’t equal boring either. It is what I make it. And if I want to make my boring life less boring through reading, then that is what I’ll do.

Hormone treatment

Soo… It’s been a few (about four) months since my last entry here. I’ve been meaning to write more, but life got in the way and time flew away.

Since I last wrote I’ve started hormone treatment and gotten two testosterone shots. I got the first shot seven weeks ago and the second one last week. I’ll be getting the third one in five weeks, and after that it’ll be every twelfth week.

I’m not a fan of shots, but for this I’ll happily get them for the rest of my life ^_^

It hasn’t happened much yet, but some things have happened. Firstly, I feel like I’m constantly eating. It’s not that I’m hungry a lot more than before, it’s more like I’m constantly craving something to chew on. I’ve gained some kilos these weeks (about 5 kg, I think). This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, since I can stand gaining weight and it’s only good for me if I start eating more.

Secondly, I haven’t had my period since the first shot. I had it when I got the shot and since that period ended, I haven’t gotten it again. This doesn’t mean I won’t be getting it again – it might just have become really irregular – but I can always hope. I was warned that it could become irregular, but I was also warned that it probably wouldn’t disappear until after a few shots and/or months. Guess I’m lucky (:

Knock on wood!!!

Aside from this, I haven’t really noticed any other changes. Well, the hair above my lip have darkened a bit at the edges, I guess…

That’s really all I have to write about right now, so I’ll just end it here.

Until the next entry, then! Have a nice day/week/month/etc (:

Plans to move?

I feel like moving again. And I’m only lived in this apartment for a little over a year (moved here last Mars), and I already want to move again. I’ve lived in and around this town for close to six years and I like it. But the people I treasure the most don’t live here. They don’t even live close to this town. Well, I guess that’s a matter of perspective, really. But when I don’t have money or opportunity to visit them often, or for them to visit me, then it’s the same as they not living close by. And really. The closest one lives about two hours away – maybe not that far, if I had a car and/or money to visit.

I’m thinking about moving about 3-4 hours away from here. I’ll get further away from some friends and from my family and closer to a few other friends. It would be nice to try at least. And it would mean moving to a big city, which definitely would be an experiemce since I’m from the countryside. Though I plan to find a place that isn’t in the centre of the city, but more on the outside where it gives more of an illusion of not being a big city.

I probably won’t move soon – you need money and planning when moving – but I’m hoping to maybe move in about a year or so. Well, the future will show what happens!

All body sizes can come with troubles!

It’s hard to stop your thoughts as they appear, and not all thoughts are good or kind in nature. And some thoughts are of course about other people.

It’s hard not to look at people as they pass, or you pass them. And while looking, you might find thoughts popping into your head – thoughts about these people. I get thoughts like “Look at how thin/skinny/fat s/he is”. “Look at those tattoos/piercings/clothes/that hair” etc. I don’t really think it’s anything wrong about these thoughts, whether they’re of the positive or negative kind. It’s just thoughts, and most people gets them. And I don’t follow up these thoughts with things like “S/he should build some muschles/eat something/gain weight/lose weight” or things like that – but even if I would think like that, it’s still just thoughts.

But I know how it feels when people complain about your body – I’m skinny and weak. I’ve grown up hearing about how I should eat more and gain weight, how I’m anorexic (which I’m not and never have been – and if you want me really pissed at you, this is the insult to use) and how I’m too weak for this and that. I have had (still somewhat have) trouble with food. But the kind of trouble that comes from me being picky and not really liking to eat – and I really don’t like to cook, escpecially for just me. But I do eat, and I can eat a lot if I feel like it. I also eat a lot of snacks, drink soda and eat junk food. Sure, I can go days without really eating mroe than a sandwich or something, but I also have days when I nibble at snacks or other stuff all day. I can have periods where I only eat junk food or fatty foods (I really don’t care about calories, fat and the likes in food, by the way), but this doesn’t necessary mean I get any closer to gaining weight. I have a hard time gaining weight, no matter what I eat or how much of it. I went a few weeks (a few years ago) eating nothing but candy and junk food, and I lost weight.

Today I fluctuate between 51-55 kilos (and I’m 175 cm tall), so I’m definitely underweight. But I don’t dislike my weight or my looks, and I think that’s what’s most important – no matter what you weight or how you look. Sure, your health’s important too, but it’s not up to other people to decide when your weight’s affecting your health, they don’t know your body as well as you do.

But as I said, I fluctuate between 51–55 kilos today. This is underweight and it’s not unusual for me to hear about how I should gain more weight. What people don’t seem to understand is that it’s easier said than done. People always complain about how hard it is to lose weight, while it’s so easy to gain it. They talk about how easy it is for thin people and how hard it is for fat people. Well, thin people have there problems too. It’s not a picnic to be underweight either, and it’s not fun to have to listen to people talk and “joke” about my body size or how I should eat butter to gain weight. Like it’s that easy.

It might not be easy for fat people to lose weight, and they might have a health issue that makes it harder and whatever. I don’t really care about the reasons. I don’t care if they’re fat, thin or something between, it’s up to every individual to decide for themselves how they want to look and if they’re happy or not with their looks. This includes me!

And it’s not easy to gain weight, I can’t gain weight by “eating butter” or something like that. For me, it is hard to gain weight. It’s far easier to lose weight, even if I eat all the time and if I just sit on my ass all day, just as it is when I eat and train, don’t eat and train, don’t eat and just sit around, you name it. It’s taken me about 15 years to gain 10 kilos – and the last 4-5 kilos I mostly gained because of my anti-depressive medication. When I was 14 years old, I weighed about 45 kilos, today I’m 28 years old.

It’s not necessarily easy to gain weight. It can be a damn hard struggle, and not only to gain it, but also to keep it!

That’s all from me today. Now I’m gonna go eat some cake and be lazy in front of my TV.

Not fair

I believe I’m in denial (partly, at least) about having to go to the gynecologist on Tuesday. I don’t think about it, and pretend it’s not going to happen. But whenever I consciously think about it, I get anxious and have the feeling of oncoming panic in my chest, throat and head. I really, really don’t want to go there. I don’t want anyone to touch my genitals – I got enough of that shit as a child! But I don’t have a choice. And that sucks! Big time!

I mean. why do I have to? Why do transguys have to visit the gynecologist, when other guys don’t have to? It should at least be optional – as it is for females! But no, we have to! At least where I live, I can’t speak for the rest of the world, but quite frankly, I don’t care about the rest of the world right now.

I’m panicking and just want it to be Wednesday now. That way, I’ll already be done with it, and hopefully will never have to do it again!

(originally posted at my old, and misbehaving, blog and was posted on May 16, 2015)

Not everything is common knowledge