Pardon The Mess

I’ve written so many blog posts that never get published. I write them, re-read them a few days later and then delete them. I have a very real tendency to bash myself, to be so hard on myself that it makes me cringe. I don’t really know where that comes from, parents or self-loathing. I think the origins aren’t so important, it’s the present I am working on. I have the exact same ability to be good or bad, a mix of both or even neutral as anyone else, I’m only human. I have found so many lost or hidden emotions since coming out, since starting HRT. In learning to deal with them, to allow for the process to do it’s thing, I have also discovered that there is a time to let go of control. I have hammered down my emotions and reactions over the years so much that I’m still not able to communicate my feelings or needs to other people. I was essentially overdosed on my own brand of lithium. Waking up from the life I knew was a shock and it took me a while not to panic at every emerging nuanced emotion.

I was told by a friend I met not long ago that by using the words like “just”, I am diminishing myself. I do this a lot, minimizing pain or angst or anger, my own feelings. I’m trying to lessen the verbal blows for others, and the thing is I end up hurting myself. I need to be more like Pam Beesly on Beach Games, I need to say the things that need to be said even if it might be embarrassing. I am striving to be better at communicating needs and feelings, as well as doing this without minimizing them. I’ve rarely had that courage, to be honest with others with my thoughts.

Being positive for myself is so much more work than being positive for others. I have friends in real life and on twitter, FB that I try to always be positive and uplifting for. Not because I think they need it, but because they deserve positivity. I want them to come away from screaming at the void of social media knowing that not only were they heard, but the void answered back and it was lovely. I don’t know why it’s so much harder to be this person for myself. Part of it is the “deserving” part, like I said, I am hard on myself. I don’t know how much time I have left on this earth, but I want to go out happy and at peace with myself.

Why can’t we do the right things for ourselves? Why do we believe that suffering is the way we show love or that we show devotion? Wouldn’t it be a better world if we said what we meant without malice and trusted each other enough to speak our thoughts? I don’t have the answers, I have only the questions.

I would love to write a blog entry now about something cosmetics, something clothing, something transgender. But here I am at 2am, unable to sleep because I have a very cute but annoying puppy that needs to go out and she barks so much that I wake up. Instead of writing useful articles that you can use for guidance, I am writing about the things I overthink at 2am. 

I’m a work in progress, pardon the mess.

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