So yeah, yesterday was a pretty tough day for me (as indicated by my previous post). I have this tendency to approach almost every situation and think, “Okay, now what are all the ways this can go wrong and will I be able to handle it?” Then dozens of scenarios play out in my head as well as back up plans, comebacks, retorts, etc.
This way of thinking and approaching things is not only making me miserable but it’s also making Reid’s life hell and that needs to stop. I can’t appreciate anything for what it is without being incredibly paranoid about all the ways I could ruin it which then most times becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. In short, I bring this on myself.

I haven’t been researching therapists like I probably should, I still think that the money could be invested somewhere else but that’s only because I think of myself as a lost cause, I’ve been this way too long to change. Maybe this is true, maybe it isn’t that remains to be seen but I can still try my damnedest!

So instead of thinking of all the ways my life can go wrong in the near future I’m trying to concentrate on anything positive that could come from this, little or big.

Reid and I talked last night and we both agreed that our time together is going to be drastically reduced, despite the fact that is something we do not want in the least since our time together is already so small.

BUT

Maybe that will give me more time to pursue my crafting again. I tend to put down projects when he’s home because I don’t want to be distracted when he’s home.

Maybe I will be able to be more productive around the house. Again, all housework seems to cease when we are home together because why waste time doing dishes when we could be co-oping LEGO: Lord of the Rings? As it is right now our house has never been more clean or organized (thanks mainly to the puppy) but the upstairs (the humans only zone) is a MESS! I’m thinking about doing a shame post and putting a picture of just how bad the bedroom is and then take a picture once it’s cleaned and organized.

I will definitely have more time to build the shelves I’ve been planning for a while. I think they will be pretty and great for organizing all my books and comics. It will also clear up even more space in our living room if I can consolidate everything to just one wall instead of 5 random bookcases that take up odd amounts of space all over the place.

Maybe when we actually do get time together it will be more meaningful. Maybe it will motivate Reid to actually want to get out and do more things together instead of just sitting on the couch. (This is probably reaching a bit, he’s a huge homebody).

I’ll have more time to read which is something I miss.

I could also finally take up electric bass. I’ve been wanting to learn that for a few years now, and Reid’s brother has left me a standing offer on lessons. I guess now on the nights when Reid is gone me and G can play guitar together.

In all likelihood I will probably pick up another job for the nights and weekends. At least I would be making more money. I already work around 50hrs a week but I would rather work more than spend all my time alone wishing things could be different.

This is probably a fail of an approach but it’s the best I can muster right now. I’m still scared. I’m still sad. And trust me, I know things could always be worse so let’s not even get into that. I KNOW what worse is. Been there, many times. There are real reasons why people make fun of me and call me Walking Murphy’s Law and to “Watch out! Meg’s coming!” It’s hurtful yes but sometimes I’m more than just a disaster waiting to happen.

Maybe if I start believing that, other people will too.

Howdy!
I’ve been wanting to change this username for a very, very long time and I’m getting very close to be able to doing just that without spending ten bucks!
So, consider me the street vagrant at the moment holding out a dixie cup in hopes of a few coins… errrr points!

I’m in a ranty/complaining mood and since I don’t really feel like being broken up with today I’ll just vent here. That’s what this place is for sometimes, right?

Anyways, Reid is planning on switching jobs soon. Right now he works for a popular chain restaurant. He’s been there for a little over 2 years. As most everyone knows, restaurants are usually busiest during dinner time and weekends. Right now, Reid has gained enough seniority and respect from the operating partners that a few months ago he was able to basically say, “Hey guys, I never get to see my girlfriend because she works 7am-5pm Monday-Friday. Could I have Friday night and all of Saturday off so we can actually see each other?” The operating partner he has now is awesome and granted his request as long as he was available to work all day Sunday (typically he works open to close on Sundays). It’s been nice because before we never, ever got to see each other except for some nights when I would force myself to stay awake long enough to tell him goodnight when he got home (I’m a recovering insomniac, I need my sleep).
The operating partner he has now is leaving soon because she is pregnant. They’ve already sent another guy up here for the past few days to scope the place out. Rumor is he will likely be the new operating partner once the one in place now goes on maternity leave.
This new guy is a huge asshole. Much like Allen (the operating partner who first hired Reid on. He is one angry, angry man who made life hell for everybody. Don’t believe me? When they shipped Allen up north to another branch, half the staff walked out and quit that day right in the middle of their shift. HALF the restaurant). This new guy doesn’t sound any better than Allen. Apparently he has already thrown a few bitch fits, including ripping up one of the checkbook things because it had a small tear in the front and started screaming, “How dare you bring me this piece of crap!” to the server.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want Reid to work under those conditions again. It was awful.

But selfishly, I don’t want him to change jobs either. He has two very good prospects lined up that he is almost guaranteed a job thanks to his connections. Both are very upscale places. Both places are only open after 5 on weekdays and for lunch and dinner on weekends. Basically, I will probably never get to see Reid except for maybe an evening or two a week. That means no more day trips, no more going out and doing fun things (I work for 10hrs a day, I’m too tired to do stuff after work).

I’m devastated. Just completely devastated. He’s been wanting to change jobs for a while because corporate for his chain is just looney toons and unbearable (but it’s like that everywhere). There’s no way he will be able to go in as a noob to these places and be like, “Oh yeah, I don’t work Friday nights or Saturdays.” Just no way. He’s mad at me for being “negative”. I’m not being negative, I’m being a realist. I’m under no disillusion. Why is it so bad to know the truth of the situation? Would he rather me be all rainbows and unicorns that poop skittles until proven wrong and THEN devastated? Why not already start that process now and get it over with.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I already don’t see the point in working like we do when we never get to spend time together. I don’t want fancy things, I don’t want to move to a nicer place. I don’t want tons of vacations every year. I just want to spend time with him. That’s what keeps me going. But going into this new phase knowing that all I’m working for is nothing now is just hard. I’m going to be working my 40+ hours a week to come home to a Reid-less house since the places he wants to work open at 5 (which is a half hour before i even get off work). I’ll spend my weekends alone. That’s just the way it will be. I already spend half of my weekend alone. Really it feels like I get one day off a week because Sundays don’t really count to me since I don’t get to see Reid and I spend all of that day working on other things to keep me distracted.

So yeah, I guess I’m done now. I just don’t feel motivated to do much of anything anymore because it all seems pointless. I’m so jealous of his parents. They get to work together (and I work for them so I work with them. I see them more than I get to see their son whom I live with). I’ve already been struggling with how little I get to see him. Knowing that that meager time I get with him is quickly running out too just has me close to giving up on everything. Long distance would be better than this. We’ve already been through that too. Hell, at one point we could only write letters to each other (I was at BMT). At least we actually got to talk to each other every day. We don’t even get that now. I can’t talk or text him when he is at work and most times he comes home at night and I’ve already gone to bed.

Sorry, I’m just incredibly upset.

It would have been better if you had died. Really, it would have. I would be able to live with myself if you had killed yourself or if you had died in an accident or something. I would probably still love you if you had died all those years ago.
Before you showed yourself to be the liar you are.
Before you blamed my mother (your wife) for your adulterous ways because *gasp* she had the audacity to have brain cancer.
Before you left your wife after she had her left frontal lobe removed and dumped her on your 16 year old who had to bathe, feed, clean, and teach her how to do normal things again.
Before you threatened me. Before you beat me.
Before you threatened my sister, my dog, my friends. Before you tried to kill my dog.
Before I found out how much you hate me for just being alive. It’s not my fault I’m alive at all. Technically, it’s almost all your fault.

I’m so jealous of people who had their dad’s die when they still loved them. I’ll never love you again. Never. I’ll never want *you* ever again. I’ll want the dad I deserved to have, the one you never were and never will be.

It’s not fair. All I wanted was love. All I wanted was to spend time with you. Why do you think I bought you those bottle rockets? (*hint* it’s because I got such a kick when my friends and I played with one I wanted to share that experience with you) And what did you do? You put them in the back of your closet and never looked at them again.
But I did.

I remember the rockets. I remember the fishing rod that I have yet to ever use because I was waiting to go fishing with you. I’ve been waiting 13 years now. That’s all you were ever good for. Teaching me patience. Because someone has to have a lot of patience to wait for something that isn’t coming but chooses to believe differently. If you had died I could probably still look at the model plane set I wanted to do with you, and never opened because it was going to be “our” thing with a little bit of happiness and think, “Oh man, he would have loved this.”

But the truth is, you wouldn’t have. You never enjoyed anything with me even after I tried my best to do anything that might interest you.
Softball
Basketball
I did those things because I saw your high school pictures, and I wanted to be just like you, even though I had been born with girl parts.

It hurts to know that every, “I love you” was a lie. That all those years I waited just to get a few minutes with you once you were back for a few hours before work pulled you away again. All that wasted time. All that heartache wasted on you.

You remember that time my sister and I came out running and screaming and jumping up and down in our flannel PJ’s when we saw your truck pull up a few days early?
No, you don’t, because it wasn’t you, it was just the bug man. That was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life at that time (I mean, I was only 7).

But you didn’t come home. And you never will.

It’s not fair. I never wanted to hate you, but who could love you after all those years of abuse and misery? How do you even live with yourself? I couldn’t if I were you. I would have killed myself a long time ago before anyone had the chance to hate me like you’re hated now.

And I don’t know why you think it’s worth it. I don’t know how you see any outcome other than more pain. More lost time. I’ve wasted so much of your time already. I’m just waiting for you to wake up out of your fugue and realize what you’re doing. What you’re asking. Who you are asking it of. I just let people down. I can’t change even to spite my own self. I’m afraid of what we’ll find. I’m afraid that I’ll get a label I can’t live with. I’m afraid that I’ll be merciful, and spare you all.

Or would it be just me?

Wednesday night I went and saw the Deftones with my ex-fiance’s sister. It’s funny because ever since her brother and I broke up, we still go see concerts together at least once a year. We went and saw Chevelle a few months after I got dumped, then I took her to see Mute Math, and then the next year we saw Chevelle again (her all time favourite band). We have a lot of fun together but I haven’t really kept in much contact with anyone in E’s family since we broke up. I didn’t know what the proper protocol was for an ex who was engaged to be married. Did his family still want me around? I didn’t know so I assumed they didn’t. If their son didn’t want me around, then it figures that they might not as well. L (his sister) and I got a little drunk before the concert (pregamed in the parking garage because we’re classy as fuck like that). The concert was amazing. I got to rub Chino’s head when he jumped down in the crowd (I have to say for being an hour and a half late to get to the show we got an amazing spot with a great view). I felt like such a creeper just gently rubbing his head but his hair felt so nice! Since the concert was about 2 hours out of town I decided to get a hotel room (I’ve made that drive many times after a concert and every time I regretted it because I would almost all asleep at the wheel or get home and not get enough rest before work/class). To my amazement the concert was over before 11 (I think the opening band didn’t play at all because Deftones went on at 8:45 and the show started at 8. I’ve never heard of a 2 band show’s opener playing for only 20min so we figured they were no-show).

It was really great getting to spend time with L. I told her that I just wanted her to know I didn’t harbor any ill feelings towards her and her family and brother. Quite the opposite. I really miss his mom (although R’s mom is just the bomb. I am so happy that hopefully one day she will be my real legal mother-in-law, because she treats me like a daughter already and it’s just awesome). I missed hanging out with L too. She and I were pals. She hated my guts at first because I was E’s first relationship so she thought I was stealing him away but then she realized I was awesome (I mean come on, I am awesome!). She started to tear up when I told her that and asked if she could pass that along to E. Apparently he is still torn up about dumping me (I did tell her that he broke off our engagement and dumped me in a Target parking lot, she got pissed, I laughed). I will admit, for a while I was COMPLETELY devastated that he dumped me, and for a couple of years afterwards I would’ve been lying if I said I wouldn’t take him back in a heart beat. Now it doesn’t bother me. I am ultimately so much more happy and free with Reid. He has shown me happiness in ways that I would have NEVER had with E. I just wouldn’t. He wasn’t capable of it, and that’s okay. He’s not a bad guy. Even Reid has gotten over his hatred of him (he realized that maybe he wasn’t a monster but just made a lot of mistakes).
Like I said, I was E’s first girlfriend, much less fiance. He made a lot of mistakes because he didn’t know better. And I didn’t know enough to realize that I honestly deserved better. But I do now. I have what I deserve. I have everything I wanted and more.

There was a funny bit, L came out and said that she hates E’s new girlfriend. I confessed to her that through some stealthy stalking I was able to track this girl down and since everything of hers is public on Facebook I saw pics, read status’ and immediately thought, “Man, if E still had his Facebook he would realize that this girl is EVERYTHING he has said he did not want in a girl.” L said that exact same thing before I even told her I knew E had a girlfriend, much less had found her profile and thought the EXACT same thing as her. I even told Reid about her. She’s definitely a Klingon (and sort of looks like one too). L said that E told her the only reason he could see himself marrying her is that she would make him mad enough one day to just do it to shut her up.

I’m so glad I’m not with him anymore.

The last picture is my favourite. That one was taken during Change in the House of Flies. They also played Digital Bath, You’ve Seen the Butcher, Rocket Skates, Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away), and My Own Summer (Shove It). In short, it was one of the most fun and satisfying shows I have been to in a long time. They played most of my favourites. I will definitely see them again if I get the opportunity.

I made a pulse this morning about how I sometimes forget how bad my gender dysmorphia is, and by that I mean, I’m always forgetting that I am, biologically and anatomically female.

You see, I’ve never, ever thought of myself as female. In fact, some of my first thoughts I remember having were how I wish I had been born a boy. If I had been born a boy then it would be okay for me to play with G.I. Joe’s over Barbies and play sports instead of having tea parties. As I have mentioned numerous times before, I was raised in a cult. A reformed evangelical christian cult, but a cult all the same. I was raised to believe that men were superior to women, and that a patriarchal/complementarian society is what God really intended for his people. Girls were expected to dress modestly so as not to cause men to stumble (because controlling a man’s lustful thoughts is totally our responsibility as females…), girls cooked and cleaned and learned how to run a home but not much else besides that.
Girls didn’t go to college.
Girls didn’t have careers or jobs, their career was motherhood, their workplace the home.
Girls stayed at home until a man came along and married them. Then their submission was to the husband where up until you said, “I do” you submitted to your father.
But even before my family got sucked into this subculture I still struggled with my gender. Even when I was in public school (for all of 2 years, then I was home schooled until I graduated) I still wished I could be on the boy’s team instead of the girls. My best friend was a boy (he even ended up being my first boyfriend when we got back in touch during senior year of high school after losing touch for 10 years. He never knew about any of these feelings).

All these things made me really depressed. I wanted to do all the things the boys could do. The boys got to go out on father/son camping trips. There was nothing like that for girls. Boys got to play sports (I was forbidden more than once from coming near other people’s children for fear my “rebellion” towards my assigned gender roles might rub off on them). I was accused of being a homosexual when I was 12. I didn’t know what homosexuality was until much much later. When I was 12 I donated my hair. I had 17 inches cut off at the ponytail, and then more shorn off until I had a nice pixie cut. That was the happiest I ever was with myself. I looked like how I felt. I looked like a boy. I was mistaken for a boy more times than I can count. My parents and grandparents on more than one occasion had to explain that I was a girl, not a boy even though I wore overalls and hiking boots ever day. Even though I was starting pitcher for the boys softball team. Even though I did all the things girls weren’t supposed to want to do in God’s so-called perfect world. I didn’t start developing at all in a biological sense until I was 17 (I stopped playing sports when my mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor. After I stopped playing I finally put on enough body fat to have a period and start developing breasts.) I was 85lbs when I was 17 years old even though I ate like the world was ending, my metabolism was just that high. I thought of myself (and still do sometimes) in male pronouns he/his/him. I wanted to change my name for the longest time to Aryn because it was more male sounding but also a girl’s name sometimes. I liked names that could go both ways because I could go both ways. In my mind’s eye, I still think of myself as looking more masculine. It still catches me off guard when people say I look pretty or beautiful because I don’t think of myself that way. I always thought people saw me the way I see myself in my mind.

I loved being androgynous, I miss it sometimes. It’s hard to hide the fact that I don’t feel comfortable looking feminine when you have longish hair (it’s down between my shoulder blades right now and I hate it. The ONLY reason my hair isn’t just a few inches long anymore is because I’ve been growing it out for when I get married. Whenever that may be. I just want to be able to do my hair nicely for my wedding and then afterwards I’m going straight back to shorn. Hell, I might even pull a Sinead O’Connor).

This is the first time I’ve ever openly spoken about this to anyone other than my boyfriend. He has known me since my “butch” days (I put italics because I don’t really like that word to describe myself but oh well it’s the only word people know).

So how do I deal with it?

Most times I don’t actively think about it unless I’m shopping for clothes. I still feel out of place in the women’s aisles. I’d rather shop in the men’s section. I even lamented such to Reid the other day who said he would be happy to buy me “boy clothes” if that would make me feel better. I’m more or less okay with my gender at this point but I still struggle with feeling like I’m in the wrong body sometimes. Reid teased me a few years ago that the only reason I am not transitioning to male is because I have like the perfect female body (105lbs, 32D boobs, hourglass figure, flat stomach, etc) and that the man inside of me knows this and is content (that would explain why I am constantly groping myself so I think he has a good point). I’ve never been attracted to females (well not until recently. I consider myself “heteroflexible”; I’m straight with exceptions) and I don’t think I would be even if I did transition, I would still want to be with another male. I’m learning not to be ashamed of my body like I was raised to be. Reid is supportive either way. He loves it when I dress to the nines in heels makeup and all (which usually only happens once or twice a year). And he loves me when I’m in my men’s cargo shorts, flip flops and baggy shirt. He said he would support me if I decided I did want to transition (which I don’t really want to anymore, I did when I was a teen I just didn’t know it was possible). He loves me for me, and not because of my gender. Sometimes I enjoy being a female because that means I can get away with murder (like telling my managers to suck my balls. Not funny coming from a dude, hilarious when coming from a petite female). I’ll never be a girly girl. I do have some “girly” interests (knitting, baking, reading Wincest fan fiction… just google it) but I don’t think that I like them because I am biologically female, I just like them because I do and there’s nothing wrong with that.

This is something I’ve been wanting to write about for years but only found the courage to do so today (started with just a pulse and that just wasn’t enough; I wanted to get this out, all of it). I’ve always wondered how it might change how people perceive me, if they would think any less of me. But at this point, I really don’t care what or how people think of me or if this shatters all their pre-conceived notions of me. That’s really their problem and not mine.

I realize that this could make some people who really, REALLY struggle with gender dysmorphia mad or tell me that I don’t really have it. Just because I don’t want to transition doesn’t mean I don’t struggle with my gender identity. I am just content at this point with what I was born with instead of pursuing changing my body on the outside to how I feel on the inside. Doesn’t mean that some days I’m not tempted to throw down the money for chest binders and packers and an entirely new wardrobe and haircut/glasses/top surgery/ bottom surgery/thewholeshebang.

I’m just learning to be content. In all things. At all times. Even in this.

Tonight, I will be out of town for the Deftones concert. I asked Reid to leave a note to remind me to bring my lunch and a change of clothes since I will be spending the night in a hotel and coming home tomorrow morning.
This is what I found on the door.

*Reid discovers he can search Internet Explorer using the speech interface with Kinect*

R: “Xbox, Bing, ‘boobs.’”

*boobs appear all over TV*

Me: “You know I love you, but sometimes, I think you’re a pervert.”

*Reid places hand on my shoulder with a sincere concerned look in his eyes*

R: “Well, if it helps, I think you’re a pervert all of the time.”

Burn!