1. Some days I fail so hard at being an adult.

    But dammit this trip would be so much easier to plan for if I could figure out how to get what I want, which is 45 minutes in which someone who knows what the hell the’re doing sits me down and talks me through transition shit and especially coming out strategies and makes this nebulous future a little less nebulous but dammit I am not an emergency and I know there’s somebody else who needs that fucking 45 minutes more.

    And I spent most of a 12-hour shift quietly freaking out because I don’t know if I can do this and I fail so hard at adulthood, good grief.

  2. tw: suicide

    Why do people seem to think there’s only one reason? This one, single thing that can be sussed out and taken care of and then, voila, they’re a fucking hero and they’ve fixed you? That if you can’t think of that one single reason you’re obviously not trying hard enough, and if you haven’t fixed yourself you obviously aren’t working hard enough?

    Read More

  3. So I have reached the point in cleaning out my book collection where I put everything back, either into boxes or on my shelf depending on whether or not I’m likely to want/need it in the next 3-6 months. [Actually managed to part with 21 books. Still have multiple translations of the Odyssey, the Iliad, Dante’s Inferno, and the Bible. Still have both a translation and the Latin of the Aeneid and Metamorphosis.]

    We have now reached the point where I have to decide how to organize the ones I’m boxing back up.

    Logically, i.e. by what variety of book [history/zoology/fantasy/mainstream YA/etc] and size

    Or by their importance to me, so if I wind up leaving this house with what will fit in a sedan and can only take a few boxes, I have a box of what I can’t stand to loose.

    Yes, I am whining. No, I don’t care. I hate staring at the books on my floor and trying to make this decision.

  4. I love how I can spell out the fact that I’m trans and homoromantic-ish [insofar as I have a romantic orientation], and people will still address me as if I’m hetero and cis if I go on to talk about topics that matter to me because I’m asexual.

    Presumably because if I’m so deluded as to think my sexual orientation exists, then I must also be “just confused” about my gender. People are real assholes, you know that?

    And I really hate the fact that some days this gets to me hard.

  5. I’m tired of people acting as though I have just demanded something/should ask for something when I tell them I’m having a hard time. Especially when I’m telling them what’s going on because they’re demanding to know why I’m not totally functional.

    I hate that I’m afraid to ask for help because my mother has told me constantly I need to stop fishing for sympathy when I answer a question on my emotional state with any honesty whatsoever. And telling me to stop giving her attitude when I just say “I’m fine.”

    No, mother, I am not crying because we are out of fucking tea. I’m crying because I am overwhelmed and that was the thing that happened just before I lost control of the dam and it’s really none of your business why. You’ve proved you don’t believe me when I try to tell you multiple times.

    Am I ever just going to be able to say “I’m having a hard time right now” without being asked what I expect them to do about it?

  6. Well, that went well.

    [tw: suicide]

    Finally did tell my dad about the fact that I think about killing myself and have foryears, and named two ways I’ve considered doing it.

    Got told I needed to “think positive” and exercise more. Not even to fucking talk to him, exercise more.

    Fuck. I know I’m not fucking strong enough to deal with the consequences of dropping the “I’m not your fucking daughter” bombshell right now — because I’m running out of resources as it is, and saying that could loose me the roof over my head on top of everything else — but a part of me wants to so bad. Because then whatever happens will have happened, and that wouldn’t be looming in my future.

    But I won’t.

  7. Parents,

    Please stop getting mad at my little brother for playing with his hair and then looking at me like I just beamed down from the Enterprise when I say it’s not a gendered habit and not a big deal even if it is.

    Fuck.

    Please listen to me when I say these things. I just want both your boys to feel remotely safe having nervous habits in your house.

    Hell, eventually I’d like to feel remotely safe telling you you’ve got more than one son.

  8. I want somebody else to have already written my current writing project.

    So I can read it.

    And stop feeling as though the only stories about trans people I’m ever going to find are either about being trans or something I wrote.

    … how lazy does that make me sound?

    [Yes, I know I’m not the only person on the planet writing about trans people having adventures but sometimes it feels that way.]

About me

I'm another genderqueer asexual trans guy who lurks on tumblr often enough to get one. You'll see a lot about writing, some about sexuality and gender, and a lot about the publishing industry here, with occasional asides into fandom, mythology, and whatever else happens to strike my fancy. Tamora Pierce's work and the Arthurian Legends are probably my two biggest fandoms just now.

I'm kind of shy and it may take me a little while to answer/warm up to you, but I really do encourage any questions/errant thoughts/call outs you may want to put in my ask. I try to keep this a relatively safe space, so if you need any trigger warnings, let me know.

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