I spent most of last night crying, not a good thing to do when delivering newspapers.
I don't know if it's the hormones or just me. I've been known to cry in the past.
I found an old friend online and we were catching up. I mentioned that I don't have any more family. Her response was "you will always be a part of our family." I haven't seen her in 20 years and I doubt she knows what those words meant to me. I was a different person back then, and I'm not talking about coming to terms with being trans.
Somewhere along the line I learned that I wasn't invincible. Back then I thought I was and I was willing to take on the world not realizing that the daggers in my heart and in my back were still there, weakening me with their poison. Instead of being happy that there was someone who still held me in high regard, all I could think about was my fear. I wasn't invincible back then, no, I made myself untouchable. There is a big difference between the two. I placed brick by brick in a wall of my own design to keep from being hurt and now that I look around, I see that I made myself a prison.
I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of being alone. I'm simply tired. I don't know why people chose to hurt me so, but I wonder if I have hurt myself more. I can't undo the things that were done to me, and I am beginning to doubt if I can undo the things that I've done to myself. I want to be loved, but I fear being destroyed.
It took but a moment, or maybe it took a lifetime to be violated, to have my humanity turned into materialism. I was a posession to be used. I was a tool, and at times I was a weapon. But when do I get to be a person?
I shall sleep. It is my escape. The void shall take me, if only for a moment. I saw a sunset this morning, I don't know if people still take notice of such things anymore. It was beautiful and I realized that there is still a God, but it also made me realize that I am separated from humanity and enjoy such wonders alone. Perhaps in my dreams I shall see that sunset again, perhaps in my dream I will find a friend. Unfortunately, when I wake, the nightmare shall remain.
Comments
It is okay to cry
I was told when my dad died to suck it up men don't cry. I was thirteen, for over twenty some years I never cried. when my step dad died I had a large smile on my face. It got worse when I came home from Nam i was even colder. To me if someone was crying especially a male I wold belittle them.
Once I was out of rehab for alcohol abuse I was aware of my feelings.
I cry a lot, its good for release of tension.
Men don't cry they die from stress and heart attacks women cry and they bury their husbands. When I am stressed I cry. When I am hurt I cry.
I'm not bothered by what others may think. crying is a release for me.
You are doing okay, "keep on truckin"
Jill Micayla
Be kinder than necessary,Because everyone you meet
Is fighting some kind of battle.
Long before I figured out I was trans
I cried all the time. When my brother died I couldn't stop, it was probably not my safest driving time. I would go hide somewhere and let it out, even if I was at work.
I still cry when I get depressed enough (which is frequently), and I am not on hormones (spiro is more of a anti hormone I think).
My own view is crying lets some of the poison out. It is needed. It is one of the ways women have it better than men, they are allowed. I think it is a lot healthier in the long run, it doesn't matter if you are man or woman, or in between like me.
If you trust someone, and really think it is possible to trust them enough, it is OK to let people into your heart. I have a family I am very close to, we are both transitioning. She is ahead of me (I'm not quite at the point where I have a new name or am referred to as she). She also knows me well, and she was a friend long before we knew the other is trans. We are family. Everyone needs family.
Friends are good. I don't know if you can truly trust the person you were describing, but if you can then open your heart.
If we were physically closer I think we would hang out. I find I have a new hobby, shopping (as in clothes and accessories). Maybe someday I'll be able to do it without being nervous someone will say something that will ruin my day. It is the chance we have to take.
I cried easily, I cried often...
...and I hated myself for it.
Whether it was a screaming, crying rage, or simply sadness, nothing deterred me. My parents lectured--I still cried. I was spanked for it--I kept doing it. One Christmas present was returned for every outburst--I still did it. Other kids insulted me, tried to trip me, called me "crybaby", "sissy" and "faggot." They'd make harassing phone calls (I'm not joking!) and I still did it. For the life of me, I could not be the stoic, emotionless type--my emotions were always very close to the surface, and still are.
When I transitioned, it was like an enormous weight was lifted from me. I could cry and people would be sympathetic, not derisive. The only downside is that it increased my self-doubt: during the occasional periods in which I doubt the legitimacy of my transition, I wonder if in fact I transitioned simply because I would have societal permission to be emotional.
And every single day since my mother died eight months ago, I've cried, if only for a minute or so (I can chalk a large portion of that up to the hormones, I suppose, but not all of it). It can be very frustrating, and I've wished for it to end many times, but it's more tolerable than having to hold it all in. I doubt I would have lasted very long if I did.
Livin' A Ragtime Life,
Rachel
Friends
You are never alone with friends like that HUGS KATIE XOXOXO RICHIE2
crying
Please read Tragedy Of The Spirit (Revised) http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14291/tragedy-spirit-revised She went through stuff that almost broke her, but she prevailed, like I know you will.
May Your Light Forever Shine