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About Blackangel

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    Advanced Member
  • Birthday 01/15/1982

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  • Gender
  • Location
    Missouri USA
  • Interests
    Writing, Video Games, My Pets, Collecting Various Items, Movies, Music, Learning Foreign Languages, and a lot more

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  1. Here we go again. I know everyone goes thru this, but it seems to be happening more and more frequently for me. I'm sitting here wondering if I'm making the right choice to transition. Or if I should just quit transition and go on through life as the gender I was born. I watch TV and videos on YouTube, and I see these men on there, and I think to myself "Shouldn't I be like that? Wouldn't that make everyone happier? Adrianne wanted to marry a man. Not a half and half freak." I know I'm possibly using a term there about myself that may offend some of you, but that's about me only. Not anyone else here. Whether I'm trans or cis I would never use derogatory terms, as I would support the LGBTQ+ community either way. But Adrianne would be happier with a man...…..right? Would I be happier to just let my beard grow, quit shaving my legs, and acknowledge that I have a penis? It would be easier. I think. Wouldn't that make it better? Simpler? Yeah I've had a legal name change, and the orchiectomy. But so what? A lot of men get orchiectomies, for a variety of reasons. And a name can always be changed back. Only this time I can pick what I want. I always liked the name Tristan. Am I lying to myself? Am I living in a fantasy land? Or am I drunk/stoned even though I haven't touched any form of intoxicant? Some days I just don't think I can take this. I think that by stopping transition that things would be how they are supposed to be. I mean for example Adrianne is straight. She wanted a man. Instead she got, well, you know. I hate myself. I feel like a freak of nature. Like I need to take my head out of my butt, and move on. I just don't know if having it up there is right, or taking it out is right.
  2. This started about 2 weeks ago I would guess. I have been completely out of it. Lethargic to the point of not being able to hardly form a thought in my head. I go to bed tired, I'm out quick, I wake up tired, I spend the day tired, then repeat. I think I'm having the same problem I had when I was younger. I think I'm sleeping, but I'm not resting. When I was younger, if I slept at all I didn't really rest. But I also had extreme insomnia. I would go for up to 2 weeks with only getting micro sleeps. 15-20 minutes here and there. But now I'm having no desire to get up, due to being absolutely exhausted when I wake up. I don't even have the energy to play with my babies. I've fallen asleep at my computer more times than I can count over the last week I know. I would try coffee or something, but caffeine has a reverse effect on me. It relaxes me instead of energizing me. And energy drinks could be lethal for me. They make my heart race way too fast, and my body starts shaking as if I'm having a seizure. So all I can do is sit and sleep. But it does no good. I'm even starting to nod off right now.
  3. My wife picked up a lot of stuff at the store yesterday that we were thinking of trying. We got some eggs, ice cream, bread, soup, yogurt, and shredded cheese for me. I made some toast last night and almost died. It lodged at the top of my throat and I couldn't spit it out, and every breath I took sucked it back and blocked my airway. Adrianne had to beat my back and finally she beat it out of my throat and I was able to spit it out and breathe. I was done eating after that last night, and gave the rest of my toast to the dogs. I had already eaten about 6 pieces, but that one was one that brought me to a panic. Needless to say, I didn't sleep last night. One of my biggest fears is suffocation. I would rather take a bullet than suffocate in any way. I guess that's why I won't go in water past my chest.
  4. Over the next several weeks the dentist will follow up with pulling everything, then I'm getting a full set of dentures. But until then, there's still not much I can eat. The left side of my mouth had the teeth pulled long ago, so I can gum up super extremely soft stuff like canned fruit. I thought about getting some yogurt, but since that stuffs a narcotic for me, I want to stay away from it. Once I get started eating it, I go nuts. I'll eat a gallon of it if someone doesn't stop me. I ate some fruit last night, but I just feel like I need something more. Canned fruit and broth just won't cut it. Emma - I tried some leftover pasta yesterday, and it didn't go well. And no offense intended to your cooking, but I've never liked white sauce. If it's not a red sauce, then I usually don't like it.
  5. I had a lot of fun yesterday(3-25-19) afternoon. I got 7, that's right, 7 teeth pulled. I now literally have no teeth on bottom. The only thing I can think of to eat is thin soup. My wife bought a lot of chicken and stars today. What I'm looking for is something more substantial. I would love to be able to eat some biscuits or crackers, pretty much anything. The soup is ok for a while but the body does need more solids than that can offer. But I'm worried that since I'm currently unable to chew, that it's going to be just the brothy soup.
  6. If you read my blog My First 18 you'll get and idea why I refuse to trust.
  7. I feel a bit strange, weird, different (whatever you want to call it) when I come here. I'm more misanthropic than you can know. I absolutely despise the human race. But here at this forum it's different. I've grown to care a great deal for the people here. I feel for the first time in my life that I have an extended family of people who care for me as well. But I don't know how to process it. Also I'm sitting here waiting for it to all come crashing down, like everything else in my life has. While I care, I still can't trust. I refuse to trust anyone , online or IRL. The idea of someone caring for me scares the hell out of me. It's a total alien thought. Little green men from Mars seems more plausible. The biggest thing of all? Where do I go when it all does eventually crash down around me? Do I just use the rubble to reinforce the wall I already have up? Do I use it as ammunition against anyone who dares to get close to that wall? Do I become a hermit, move into a different room of the house and never leave again unless I have to? One thing is that part about trust. It's not that I don't trust people. It's that I WON'T trust people. I refuse to do it. There's no reason to do it. Because every person will eventually stab you in the back to make themselves feel better. It's happened with every person I've known in my life, so at 37 years old there's no reason whatsoever to think otherwise. Even professional relationships crash and burn. My former therapist was the most recent one to prove that one. My hatred for people goes far. I could be sitting in my garage, drinking a soda, listening to music, and all of a sudden see a person get slammed into by a speeding driver. I would think nothing of it. I would throw a bucket of gas on a burning person, and a bucket of water on a drowning person if they were someone that had ever wronged me. But if I was to see someone else do the same, it wouldn't phase me a bit. All people are equal in that instance. I'm not specifically going after Synagogues, or blacks, or republicans, or corporate executives. You wrong me, and your days are numbered. And I know things that should only be known by people in the CIA, FBI, ATF, and higher level police. Lethal things that should never be known by the general public. I actually make my own home made cyanide. I put a couple drops of it in hollow point bullets then seal it with a couple drops of wax from a burning candle. I've been called evil by many, and if not spot on, it's not far off. I have my rats. I have my dogs. I have my birds. They are the only ones that I've known who love unconditionally. That's probably why I value their life above human life. Yet still, I care about each and every one of you here. I love you all. Platonically of course. I would never harm anyone here intentionally. I would defend you all as fiercely as I possibly could. Which is why I feel so screwed up in my head. How do I process this insanity and confusion? Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"-- here I opened wide the door; -- Darkness there and nothing more
  8. If it was my dog, I would sell my soul to save her. There's nothing I wouldn't part with to save her life.
  9. There's a couple more stories about his case on the ACLU website. Due to his being railroaded by the insurance he wasn't able to save his best friend and companion. His bulldog needed surgery, and since he couldn't pay he had to watch him die. That's just cruel. If I was him I would look into suing that insurance company.
  10. Dashir Moore is a man living in Colorado. He moved there from Atlanta because he was under the impression that Colorado was a very open place to the transgender community. He found nothing but discrimination. https://www.aclu.org/blog/lgbt-rights/transgender-rights/i-moved-colorado-freedom-transgender-man-instead-i-found
  11. I got the same message and thought I had done something to get myself banned. I was starting to get really confused because I couldn't think of anything I had done that would warrant a ban.
  12. I had thought Brazil would be a beautiful country to visit, but with a creature like this in office, even the natural beauty of things such as the Amazon will become hideously ugly. It's sad to say that, but there's no other way to put it. Disease spreads quickly and infects everything around it in some way. 😢
  13. I have written many poems, and a few short stories. I've even finished 2 full length novels. Nothing is polished, but they're written. I'm revamping a major chunk of one novel. Aside from the poetry, I have it uploaded to a page within my site. If you're interested I can PM you the link. The stuff I write isn't really for children, so it isn't something I can give a link to publicly.
  14. Depression or sadness? Well there's a huge difference between the two. Sadness sucks. Maybe your favorite team lost the championship. Maybe your family said your meatloaf sucked. Maybe you're just having an off day. It's ok to cry. Let it out. Don't let anyone laugh at you for crying. Depression is beyond. Depression is an emotional disorder. The sufferers feel those things all day every day. They have no hope for tomorrow. They have no hope for today. They don't have the ability to get out of bed and carry themselves. They don't eat. They don't sleep. They want to be alone all the time. I know these things, because I suffer from depression. One will pass. The other will not without help from someone. Be they friend, family, professional, or somewhere else. But there is one thing you are required to forget about thinking. You don't have the right to kill yourself. Just because you have the ability doesn't mean you should exercise that ability. Ian Malcomb said it best in Jurassic Park: "Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should." Your death solves nothing. It doesn't end the pain. It just passes it on to the next in line. Which is several people. Your parents, siblings, children, and extended family. Your friends will inherit your pain as well. Is that really what you want to do to all of them? My grandmother committed suicide before I was born. The result was that I never got to meet her. Nor did any of my cousins. I understand the pain gets overwhelming at times. I really do. I've attempted suicide more times than I care to try to count, in more ways than I care to admit. And when your attempt isn't successful, you feel like a total failure at life. You think "If I can't even kill myself right, I am nothing but a complete failure at everything." It's hell. Your mind stays in that hell for a long time. If you're thinking that I'm just blowing smoke up your butt right now then ask yourself this one question. If you're truly suicidal, why are you still here? Were you going to do it yesterday but got sidetracked? Or an hour ago? I'll tell you why you're still here. Because you want help. Because (depending on your personal beliefs) you don't want to face possible eternal damnation for taking that away from your god's decision of when. Because you want be loved, and you want to love. Everyone, no matter how successful, or happy they seem, has room for improvement. That's because there's not a living soul on this planet that is perfect. Obviously there's people who think they are, but if you're that narcissistic then you have more room for improvement than anyone else. Granted, every person everywhere will have the thought of suicide at least once in their life. It's natural. But over 99% of people don't do it. In the grand scheme of over 7 billion people it's actually rather rare. Don't try to make it common. You don't have that right. As a last note to anyone thinking about doing it, think about this... THE ONES YOU LEAVE BEHIND WILL SUFFER MORE THAN YOU.
  15. Some years ago, before I met my wife, I was homeless. I spent 3 years on the street with nowhere to go. I lived in an old abandoned feed mill. My egg donor and female DNA match only lived a few blocks from me, but neither would take me in. During that time I was alone. Virtually. Where I was staying there was an old pile of sawdust and grain. It was about 6 feet high and probably about 12 feet wide. There was a colony of rats living in it. I would say close to 100 there. I knew that they would tear me up if I tried to dominate them, but I also knew they would do the same if I submitted to them too much. The patriarch of the colony defended his colony fiercely at first. I never attacked, but I didn't back down either. Eventually we grew to trust each other. After that we became friends. I named him Star, because he was black with a white star on his belly. Over time I gained the confidence of the whole colony. My home at the time was a sleeping bag and a duffle bag that had clothes in it for a pillow. I would often wake up with rats sleeping either on top of me, or even in the sleeping bag with me. There was once I woke up to a female giving birth on my sleeping bag. While I was living there it was hard to find food at first. Normally I would end up stealing what I could from grocery stores. Not a good idea, I know, but when you're starving you don't have many options. Then I got to thinking. When I was 16 I worked at Pizza Hut. I remembered that at the end of the night, we always threw a ton of pizza in the trash. Stuff that people who dined in didn't finish, or pizza that just never got picked up. So I started dumpster diving there. It was a gold mine. I never had to steal food again. A lot of it was water logged due to throwing cups of ice and stuff in the trash. I always passed on that. But the dry stuff I took with me. I got burnt out on pizza REAL quick, but hey I had to eat. It also gave the rats a better meal too. Granted rats are scavengers, and will even resort to cannibalism if they have to, but we had some good meals together. Water was never hard to come by. Every building has an outdoor water spigot, and a couple 2 liter bottles kept me hydrated. Granted I wouldn't have minded a soda once in a while, but that just wasn't in the cards at the time. So I found a steady supply of food and water. Over the years my spirits got lower and lower. I had less and less will to go on. Star was always there to keep me going, but he didn't have magical powers to make everything ok. He always followed me around like a puppy. When I would leave the mill, I would either put him on my shoulder and take him with me, or he would sit there at the door waiting for me looking so sad that I was gone. And when I got back he would go absolutely nuts. He was so sweet. But one day, I decided that I was done. I couldn't live like that anymore. I decided it was time to die. So I climbed up the stairs to the top floor which was about 5 stories up. There was an old window there that was busted out. I looked out of it and decided that a head first dive would do the trick. I started to climb up into the window when I felt this small tug on my pants leg. I turned around thinking I was caught on something. I was caught sure enough, but not how I was thinking. It was Star. He had followed me up the stairs. I tried to move him away so he didn't go with me. I started climbing up again, and again I felt that tug. He had me again. Somehow he knew what I was going to do, and he was determined to stop me. His heart was bigger than any I had ever encountered. He was the first one that loved me unconditionally. He fought me to stop me from killing myself. I couldn't believe it. A wild rat loved me that much. I sat down with him and he climbed up on my shoulder. I started crying. If he loved me that much, there was no way I could do that to him. From then on everywhere I went, he went. Not just because I wanted him with me, but because he wouldn't let me out of his sight. Even if I just stepped around the door to pee, he was right there with me. I'm crying right now as I'm writing this. If it wasn't for Star I wouldn't be here right now. To this day, no breathing creature holds as much of a place in my heart as a rat. I have 4 little guys here with me. I have an emotional need for them. It's all in thanks to Star. I wish rats lived longer or were immortal so I could have him here with me. But unfortunately he's gone. And I'm the only one that even knew he existed. Maybe, if I'm lucky enough, I'll see him again. On the other side. I just hope he's patient, because while I'm eager to see him again, I'm not eager enough to go for a permanent visit.
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