glowingpear: (bream)
it's hard for me to admit this, but the truth is, I am currently "pre-suicidal."

that means, thoughts of suicide keep entering my mind and make me bawl my eyes out in a panic every time that they do.

a positive thing is, that due to the sudden and random nature of these thoughts, it's clear to me that the depression I'm experience is clinical. which means that it's not that my life is horrible. my life is okay and in many ways really great. I just had a lover staying with me for a week, but whenever she wasn't around, or even when she was, thoughts of suicide would pop into my head. Which doesn't make any sense. She's so lovely and I was so happy that she was here and we had pretty good time together, but thoughts of suicide were randomly spliced in there.

what's completely shattering about this being a clinical depression is that my personal narrative isn't true. my personal narrative that the reason I've been depressed throughout my life is that my father abused me, and that I'm transgender. After transitioning, everything would be fine.

Things did improve, and to some extent, hugely. In some ways my life has been unimaginably fantastic in comparison to where I was during my dark teenage years. And the darkness that lingered, I always attributed to me needing to workout all the fucked up things that had happened to me. Me needing to build up enough self esteem, to be empowered to be the best me I could be. Now I think that I've had clinical depression all along, which was triggered by awful things that happened to me.

the most horrifying part has to do with my narrative of my mother's life. I used to think that her depression had to do with my father abusing me and her feeling guilty for not having stopped that, and her feeling blame for my subsequent depression. I tend not to believe anything my father says, but one thing that he had told me is that my mother's depression was clinical. I never believed that until now. If that is true, as well as the other thing he said, that it's genetic, am I a mirror of my mother?

My mother didn't survive. She killed herself. Her depression ate her alive but she fought it for years and years. Almost a decade. Her medications didn't work. They tried everything. I am horrified at the thought that I'm doomed to the same fate. To make matters worse, I don't have a husband to support me. No one is really supporting me. My grandparents occasionally with a little money. I'm living in a foreign country, I don't have any really close friends. Being not a very social person does that, i guess.

But sometimes, I believe that I'm stronger than my depression. It's a problem and there must be a way to deal with it.

I'm happy to say that I DON'T WANT TO DIE. I WANT TO LIVE. I want to be happy and make the most out of life. It's the depression that keeps trying to throw me off the cliff. It's like a devil. I need to figure out how to fight off the depression, to stay inspired, to have enough physical and mental energy.
glowingpear: (Default)
muscles aching from growing pains. crying every day because of stress. almost there.
glowingpear: (Default)
1 film down, 1 to go. yesterday was my last day of hormones, and I can already see my body changing back. My breasts are shrinking and my face is becoming more masculine. It's quite distressing. I will try not to leave the house for the next week. and my girlfriend is stressing out too which really makes things worse. But in good news, someone may rent my room which means an extra 400 euros which would allow me to breathe easier.
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As hard as it's been, I've had an incredible life so far and it looks like it will only get better. Only 15 days until we depart Germany and off to the BKK. I keep telling everyone how bizarre it feels that this day is actually coming. It's always been something like death, something off in the distant future that will one day come, but it's rapidly approaching. November has just whizzed by. I've been banging away at getting all my work done before I go. Finished a big English correction job this evening, am nearly finished with a film I've been working on for the past 3 years (just waiting for the last 3 subtitle languages, importing them into Encore, and proofreading the PAL and NTSC version). Will start another film perhaps tomorrow, but it shouldn't take very long, minor sound fixes.

I'm incredibly nervous and scattered. Very excited. Afraid of recovery. Feeling very privileged. I can't tell you how much this will change me. And it's not what you think. Just the fact that I can spend the money that I earn will completely change my life. I've lived in this city for 3 years now, to the day, and there's still so much I don't know about it because I haven't been able to afford to go anywhere. Just the fact that I can try new restaurants! Next year, my financial year is already looking good as well. Potentially 4 tours plus a well paying club gig. They all look all but guaranteed at the moment, but I'm not holding my breath. I might even earn enough money next year to pay taxes! A first in about 10 years, unbelievable. And there's all these places I want to travel to! Being able to afford interesting ingredient to cook with! On the trans side, I can finally change all my fucking papers. No more "Mr" for me. Less drugs! No more testie blockers and half the estrogen. Spinach, orange juice, banana's here I come! Swimming! I can wear skirts in public without the fear of something popping out!

The past, I don't know how many years of my life have basically all been focused on this. This is my goal. It's hard for me to imagine what life will be like afterwards. I need new goals to aspire to! Wait, I already have some, now it's time to achieve them! Time to finally write some music and record my own record!

I do have plans to write a zine about the past 3 years of my life (+ transitioning). I have such a huge list of things to do and it looks like I can actually start doing them! Brewing beer! My fucking electronics!

Life is really shaping up. I think I'm the happiest I've ever been and things will only get better.
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yesterday my sister notifies me that my grandma will probably soon die and that I should come home for xmas. Great. Thanks for telling me 2 weeks before xmas when plane tickets are incredibly cheap, particularly international ones.

so, what is it? visit grandma before she dies and use up a significant portion of my surgery fund, or save my surgery fund and don't visit a dying relative who I'm not close to?

it's all a bit complicated. I'll start with that i'm not close to my grandma, and never have been. She's a super capitalist, and the richest person in my family. She co-owns a company that is probably worth at least a million. probably more. But I really don't know anymore. She also has repeatedly given me lots of money. Christmas is between $200 and $500. High school graduation was $1500.

But we've never been close. Even pretransition. And I've only seen her a few times post transition, and it's weird. I guess that would be twice. Once at my mother's funeral. The other time last xmas.

At my mothers funeral, no one talked to me much (it was all family). The people that did talk to me, some told me that it wasn't my fault, but I could sense that they actually believed it was. Considering all the negative propaganda my father had been feeding everyone about me, it's easy to see why I was so ignored. But this shying away continued the last time I saw my grandma. We didn't exchange much more than a small paragraph of dialog. As for my other relatives, some went as far as to disinvite me to another family gathering that I'd been going to since I was born. Some would just laugh at me when they looked at me. They weren't all cold or distant though, but it's hard not to group them all together. After that gathering, I felt my family was dead to me. Even some of the relatives I felt that were closer to me, have discluded me from family emails. Everyone blames me. It was that fucking transsexual.

(Only one family member has really reached out to me and I know she doesn't blame me. She's the youngest of that older generation, those of my grandparents age. She's the other oddball in our family, who has experienced this exiling even more than me. It's because she's not as conservative as the rest of them.)

My grandma is also very racist. She openly refers to african americans as "niggers." In fact, she was about half the reason I was (much more) racist when I was younger, having learned it from her. She's also talks badly of Chinese people, but for some unknown reason, seems to get along with white people, despite having been in an internment camp.

However, despite being racist, my grandma is generally very nice. This duality has been the cause of a lot of confusion in my later youth, polarizing racists as bad people, but then having a very nice but racist grandma. Later, I've just laughed about it, since all my arguing has taken me nowhere, and it's just very bizarre to hear this elderly asian woman, with the mouth of a redneck in the context of the bay area. If she wasn't japanese (racially), she would hate the japs too.

So where does this leave me?

Oh wait, there's an evil, selfish side to this too. In fact, a lot of this is about questioning selfishness, and identifying what is selfish.

So the "evil" side of me says, be nice to her and see her before she dies and maybe you'll get some inheritance money, even to pay for surgery!!! On the otherside of the same wavelength, she made have already decided that I now fall in her "nigger" catagory, especially, according to my father, having been the cause of his wifes death. My own selfish perverseness. (None of my family has bothered researching, trying to understand the situation of me/transpeople, except for my dead mother. Oh wait, my dads sister did a bit, enough to lecture me about how i shouldn't get surgery. can't forget that.)

Also, not to evil, but still on the selfish side, I do want to interview my grandma about family history. I don't know anything about her side of the family. Her parents, or anything like that. I think she has a brother or something, but I really don't know. That's a quarter of my family history about to be lost. Very selfish, I know.

Why am I not thinking about needing to see my grandma before she dies for the right reasons?

1. We're not close.
2. I don't think she cares about me so much anymore.
3. I'm afraid of crippling my surgery fund, because I have no forseeable saveable income in the near future.

and maybe 4. She's my father's mother. I HATE my father. I can't stress that enough. I don't ever plan on speaking to him again. He's the one who should be dying. He's also close with his mother. She's also his employer. And there's a little thought in me that says, if I don't go, my father will be so angry at me and I'll never hear the end of it. But what does that mean if I theorhetically never want to talk to my father again? I guess it means that I know that I probably will, and the next time we do talk, I'm going to hear specifically that before walking away from him.

its hard to be having these uncomfortable feelings. it's all so fucking complicated.
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Maybe writing about why I'm depressed will make me feel better.

This depression hasn't been very severe, just light and looming for the past few weeks. Thinking about it, there are a number of reasons.

Today we went to the flea market where I had found lots of germanium transistors before, hoping to buy a bunch more and hopefully carbon comp resistors as well but the guy wasn't there. I was also suposed to meet a friend of mine touring through town this evening, but the show ended up being insanely early, and I got there too late, and even being in the industry, I failed to wiggle my way backstage. Fucking lame.

Yesterday I decided to take a workshop where we made autonomous noise machines. Sounds great, right? Well it wasn't. It was more expensive than normal, very little was explained, even how to make it. We basically looked at this "prototype" and tried to duplicate it, but it didn't even really work. The only thing I got from it was experience soldering SMD parts.

A few days ago my aunt sent me some money as an early christmas present. Super nice. However I opened up a bit and mentioned to her that I'm planning on having surgery Dec 2010. I've never really contemplated whether she's a conservative or liberal person until now, but now I'm realizing she's just like everyone else on my fathers side of the family. She's telling me what a bad idea surgery is, and all the reasons why I shouldn't have it. Well, that's ok, but I went on to explain that I've researched it thoroughly and am willing to take the risk, etc. She writes back that she doesn't want me to use any of the money for surgery, and threw in some masked homophobic comments about how I don't need surgery if I sleep with women, blah blah. This one pissed me off, and I knew if I wrote back, it wouldn't be polite, so I didn't. The lesson is: keep the family in the dark. I cut them off for a reason.

A week or more further back, when my mood swung downward, I received an email from my new boss telling me that there's not enough work to actually hire me. I was planning on going to the US for 2 months to build guitar pedals for a friend of mine, and if it had actually worked out, it would have bailed me out of so many holes. 1) Needing to retrieve my bank cards from the US, 2) earning much needed money for living and 3) for saving for surgery, 4) I need to transfer my existing US money to someone who can send it to the surgeon when the time comes, 5) bringing lots of my belongings to Berlin, etc etc. I even spent money here thinking that I would be earning money in the US in the coming months, because I wanted to do something nice with my girlfriend before leaving her for 2 months. So no trip to the US, no work, scrambling to make money.

Before that I'd been searching for work here, and 3 leads looked good, but nothing has come of them. On to searching more.

And perhaps lastly, about 6 months ago a friend of mine molested or raped someone, depending on your definition of molestation and rape. The victim is saying rape, so I will as well. The victim didn't want to press charges, but wanted my friend to understand what he did and "make it right" or something like that. When I found out about this, I felt strong enough to be able to support my friend and guide him through this process (being ultra critical of course). However, over time I just started feeling sicker and sicker with what he had done and not strong enough to deal with him in person. And I feel really guilty about that. Because I feel like I need to be there talking to him, so he can hear my critical opinions and learn and understand from it. But sometimes I think if I were around him, I'd want to beat the crap out of him for what he did. Without getting into the whole story, he had touched and kissed me inappropriately in the past, and I hadn't done anything about it except be more distant from him which caused him to back off. It eats me inside that I didn't take this as a clue toward what he would later do. There are several other behaviors of his as well that haunt me, signs I tell myself I should have seen. The thing is, that I haven't really communicated with him in the past 6 months. But other people have been working with him, people I trust, that say he's doing everything right (not drinking alcohol, went to AA, not partying, is in therapy, is attending these peer groups made specificly to reform his behavior) and they're feeling fine with him. But for me, who hasn't had contact with him, to hear random people talk about how they hung out with him and the things he's doing these days makes me feel sick. This bouncing back to normality, doesn't sit well with me. Biking home tonight, I ran into a friend of his, who says she just hung out with him today. I don't think she knows. This really bothers me. I don't know what I should do. My plan is to form a womens group around his "recovery" to make demands for him to follow, to ensure he comprehends what he did, and that he won't do it again, because right now his "support" group is all men, and women's voices certainly need to be heard in this process. Maybe that process will make me feel better.

One more thing. I've lived here nearly 2 years and my german is still awful. I'm still in school learning, but it's fucking depressing how bad I am. I know I'm bad at languages, and way better in math, but fuck, it's embarassing how bad my german is. And I'm trying!


Aug. 26th, 2009 12:15 am
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one small but wonderful thing about living in a place completely geographically different than where you grew up is having insects you've never seen before fly into your room at night.
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my roommate situation feels like it's getting worse. Even though the one roommate that I really hated moved out, so many problems/compromises feel like my fault and people are mad at me because of it.

1. My former housemate that moved out was totally shitty to me, and therefore I hated her and wanted her to leave. However I tried to be as nice as I could, hoping that she would change. Some of my other housemates are paranoid that I or some of the other housemates have or will have equally hostile feelings toward them and not show them. Between me and my former shitty housemate it was clear. But now my  behavior has been construed as dishonest.

2. We are a women/lesbian/trans household of 8. Somehow in my head (I thought a housemate had told me this previously) that "trans" in this case meant transwomen. Because I somehow don't quite understand why a transman identifying as a man would want to live in a womens household or vice versa. As we're looking for a new housemate to replace the one that left, and a transman wanted to interview, we learned that one or two of us understood this as no transmen, but some of the others that "trans is trans, regardless if you're a man or woman." I considered how I felt about this and realized that every time I've lived with men (TRANS MEN INCLUDED) I've either been abused, humiliated, strangled, threatened or chased out of my house, and that THAT is what's underneath this feeling of uneasiness surrounding men. When I expressed to my household that didn't want to live with men, but was willing to meet this guy and possibly make an exception, the reaction of one of them was along the lines of "I don't want to live in a place that discriminates against transmen, and maybe I should move out." I'm fine with transmen, I just don't want to live with men period. I don't want to live in paranoia and fear. I want to feel safe in my home. Obviously not every man in the world will do one or any of these aforementioned horrible things to me, in fact I imagine most that my household would approve living with wouldn't. But the fear is still there.

3. In the past year I've started having heart and or lung problems. About a year ago I had what felt like half a heart attack. I didn't have health insurance and had to see these "free doctors" that were very reluctant to help me because I'm American (and therefore RICH!) and I didn't seek all the help that I actually needed. I haven't had that serious of a heart related attack since. I had a breathing attack about 1.5 months ago. As I was laying down to sleep, my throat started closing and I had a very hard time breathing. I was extremely panicked and my girlfriend was as well. It only lasted what felt like 10 minutes but maybe it was 5 before i had some menthol stuff to inhale and my breathing became better. I have health insurance now and saw a ear nose throat doctor, but she told me to see a pnemologist and gave me some tablets that should help if I have another attack. She also said that there are three factors that could possibly be contributing to this attack: stress, smoke and or allergies. During the period that I had the breathing attack, I had no stress which boils it down to smoke and or allergies.

Half the people where I live smoke (4) and we have an enormous living room where people have been smoking. But when 3 or 4 people are smoking there, I can't  be in the room because its too much. So as a household we're currently trying to find a solution to that. People seem to think it's a really good idea to put the kitchen in the living room, and turn the kitchen into a smoking room (the room next to my bedroom). Which means I would have to move. I don't know why people think this is an option because

4. A few months ago I denied a woman in a wheelchair from living here because I wouldn't give up my room (most convienient access for her) because after thinking about it long and hard, I realized that I would want to move out if I couldn't live in my room. I LOVE MY ROOM.

So if I won't move out of my room because so that someone in a wheelchair can't move it (something I felt shitty about) what give everyone the idea that I will move because people want to build a smoking room?

I suggested (partially to just make the others who suggested that I move out of  my room, or the household understand what its like when people suggest that their living situation is compromised) that we cut one of the two largest bedrooms and form a smoking room (these two rooms are each nearly twice as large as most of the other bedrooms). This really pissed off one of my housemates who says that I'm using my health issues in an unfair way to "get what i want (?)". I'm trying to understand where that last part is coming from.

So there are the 4 points (that I can think of) that make me an asshole and my housemates unhappy with me. The fact that I hated my former housemate who continued to act like a bitch to me right after my mother killed herself, that I don't want to live with transmen because I've been REPEATEDLY attacked EVERY time that I've lived with a man, that I had a breathing attack to the point where I thought I might die and I still have to wait 2 fucking months until my appointment with the pneumologist, and that I wouldn't change rooms to let a woman in a wheelchair have mine because I love my room too much and wouldn't be happy in any of the others.

I am the asshole. I am the drama queen. I am the problem.

More and more I'm starting to believe these ideas. Why have I had problems with 4 of the 5 households I've lived in? All signs point to something being wrong with me.


May. 9th, 2009 12:17 pm
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it appears there's another shift coming. just as I was feeling happy and comfortable.
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Sabrina suggested that I should hang out with Kim MORE or LESS. She was unsure. Last night after Kim was gawking at Nicolette, and I once again felt crushed, am thinking that the "more" option is possibly just destructive toward me. But at the same time, Kim is depressed and I would like to be able to support her. If I do keep hanging out with her I want to say "GOD Kim, you like EVERYONE except me," in a half serious but half  "i know there's nothing either of us can do about that" sort of way. I do think she's young and obvious to a lot of things. I'm older and should be hardened.

A debate going on in my head asks whether when people turn their heads when I walk by, are they thinking I'm trans or am I attractive. Since I went to that trans group in the north tuesday night and no one there (the other trans people) had any idea that I was trans, i'm leaning toward attractive. And from the girls fighting heartbreak list, "accept every compliment with a thank you rather than a nah. Transgenial is coming up next weekend, and this weekend there's a handful of festivals. I shouldn't build anything up though, no expectations. Expectations/hopefullness = disappointment.


Jun. 18th, 2008 09:57 am
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I have a habit of looking down at my gut and thinking I'm too fat. But the other day I was standing naked by my bathtub where there's a huge mirror, and looking at the profile of my figure, I can't believe my body actually looks really great. I've never looked this good in my life, and I'm must say I'm quite happy. Holy SHIT! I just got on the scale, and I'm the lightest I've been in over 15 years! I guess poverty is good for something. 143 lbs, I cannot fucking believe it. Maybe I should start wearing clothing so other people notice and someone actually becomes interested in me (hey i can be shallow for a little while, i deserve it.)
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In my adamant antidepression fight, i read websites about "curing heartbreak." For some reason, fizzygirl's suggestions made me smile. And I did invite a friend over for lunch (my best friend here in Berlin). We ate and chatted awhile and ended up watching the film "the diving bell and the butterfly," a film we've been meaning to watch for months now. It wasn't what I expected it to be at all, but I must say that at my stage in depression recovery/fighting, it was perfect. To sympathize with someone that is in a worse off situation than yourself has been really helpful to appreciate what I do have.

Tonight I watched my first (nonamerican) football game, and even in a bar with loads of Germans. Friday, I was questioning someone why so many queers were into football (it was just so counter intuitive to me) and she said I should check it out, so I did. And yea, it was kinda fun. More so listening to the reactions to good and bad plays from the crowd.  We were luckily in a place that's usually a laid back little music venue and not so hooligan oriented, which tamed my fears of off the leash rabid testosterone. It's surprised me how many people are into football here. Even people that lean fairly far left here watch it. The nationalism scares the shit out of me. I suppose it's different since most of these countries are in the EU and it would be somewhat more comparable if US teams were divided by state rather than population density. Not so horrible. But just imagining that many american flags, cheering on the US is a nauseating thought. With Germany as well, it's fairly nauseating and frightening in a different way. (I'd be interested in reading about the relationship between nationalism and fascism). It's one thing to say "we're the Unicorns are we'll destroy you Hippopotomi!" and another to claim superiority by country. I think I'll have to check out a Turkish one as well, just to balance out the idea of football from a Berlin perspective.
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I did end up emailing Maya and we're talking things through. What a fucking rollercoaster. I do feel good about how I am dealing with depression. I do feel like I have the upper hand, despite how crippling it can be. Onward and onward!
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what does that question mean anyway? I've always thought of it as "what does my life mean?" or "why do humans exist?" or "what is our ultimate purpose (in life)?" This morning I've thought of it in a different way by thinking of it with the definition that life is every living thing.

"Meaning" is a reduction. What is the meaning of this piece of art? A implies B which evokes C in the context of D. Perhaps "good art" cannot be reduced. And in someways I believe it's naive to think that "life" can be reduced to a meaning. But maybe it can, I won't say that it can't. I just find it unlikely. Rather than finding a "meaning," we can understand more about life through studying it. Looking at all examples of life and comparing. Perhaps life can be reduced to DNA, 4 polypeptide chained together in every possible configuration, seemingly at random. Genome mapping is the search for the meaning of life. Looking at myself and my interest in evolutionary biology, perhaps ultimately I too am searching for the meaning of life. But i think it's more of a search for my place in this world. How do I fit in? What does it mean to be a transsexual? How should I proceed with my life? What are my goals?

I've been quite depressed for at least a month now. I want it to go away. I want to be happy and enjoy life instead of wasting it being depressed. What is it, in the prospect of achieving a goal (in this instance being with someone you're attracted to) providing more joy than actually succeeding? Is it ideal to somehow suspend myself within this state desire and potentials and never experiencing the goal? In some spamy email that i've received at several times, it says to do yourself a favor and to love fully with your whole heart. Is that what a romantic does? For the first time in ages, I kinda feel like I've opened myself up in that way for Kim. We know that's a dead end, but when I'm around her I still can't help but melt. My heartbeats faster and I become nervous. I would like to still be friends, but its hard when I have these feelings.

Finding my answers may lie in long walks and time alone dedicated just to thinking. What about Maya and Elisa? How can I get over that? I was listening to Elliott Smith tonight and heard the line "nobody broke your heart. You broke your own because you couldn't finish what you started." Yes, exactly. Maya or Elisa didn't break my heart. I broke my own because mentally I hadn't fully severed my "more than friends" attachment to Maya. I have a right to be insulted that Maya didn't tell me about their relationship. It feels sneaky and hurtful. I would have hurt anyway if she had told me, but at least that way it's all out in the open. I think I need to write to Maya. Actually wrap things up. Is that the right thing to do? I'm somewhat afraid it will all hurt more. Maybe it will but will actually bring closure for me. And maybe I can move on. Kim is another story.
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(what is bipolar?)
sabrina and i drank a bottle of wine in the park after school today. she was fired yesterday for no good reason and I've continued to be depressed (but trying to stay up) and we deserved it. and i've been feeling rather good ever since but see the fall lurking behind me. i can be happy. i can be depressed. i can be both at the same time.


Jun. 8th, 2008 10:56 pm
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goddamnit. fuck love and fuck trying to date people. fuck that shit.

love fully and whole heartedly? that shit is dangerous! time to give that shit up and find happiness else where.

i'm tired of feeling worthless. i'm tired of being broken hearted. i'm becoming an atheist nun.
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I just had a strange dream about my sister dying.. hm.

I've been feeling a lot better the past few days, and perhaps it does have to do with the dates I've been on. One supposed actual date, and the other just hanging out with a person I have a huge crush on. Both went well.

Thinking about Maya more, when she was here she had put on this make one night. She never wears make up and looks like a clown when she does. This time with bright blue eye shadow and overly fem lipstick. Thinking about when she did that now, I realize how lonely she was. And I'm realizing we react different when lonely. I become sad/depressed. She becomes restless and aggressive. I think she was acting horribly because she was lonely and desperate for affection. Which I can understand. She just has a funny way of showing it and at the time I didn't have any idea that that's what that meant. Realizing that, the Italy trip makes sense. I wish we were both in a position where we could be friends now. But there's always later I guess.
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No, not my mother this time. I've been really confused as to why I'm sad about Maya and Elisa being together. I had left both of them, but somehow them being together still stings. Since Maya ended up being posessive, jealous, manipulative, et cetera, I was happy to have her out of  my life, but on the other hand now I'm realizing that I lost her. There were so many good things about her and I miss them, they're gone from my life now. To see her having moved on, it's a clear sign that those things are really gone and I'm sad about that. When we were still lovers, I had the best of both worlds.

I do miss the good things we shared Maya. Thank you for them. Good bye and good luck.
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i rescued a pigeon last week at some point and it was getting better and better until one morning it had a seizure or something else awful. I knew it would die so I put it out of it's misery. When I fell back asleep I dreamed about trying to save my mom.

It's odd that in the seemingly most idyllic situations I often feel alone.

Why am I simultaneously lonely and wanting to be alone?
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I was doing better for a few days. The TGEU conference was/is great. But I somehow always manage to isolate myself. My training as an American perhaps plays a role here. The standoffishness, the refusal of eye contact. The fear? Is that where this all stems from? Lack of confidence?

Crushing is really counter productive. Crush hard. Crushed hard. I've done this since I was a little kid, perhaps all my life. It only hurts me, over and over and over. Why do I handle this different than everyone else? I thought I was getting better about this. Is my sense of attraction subconsciously purposely putting me at odds with love? Why is my self esteem so easily punctured when others don't reciprocate my interest?

I do know I'm worth it.

I need stratagies for staying on top.
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