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  1. Good afternoon/Morning/Evening everyone. It's been a long while since my last blog entry but I didnt have much of anything I felt that needed to be said at the time. But I did actually promise to share the colorings I'd been doing of Mandalas. So first off, as promised, here are the photo. This one was done 90% by Ren. This one by myself. This one by Ren himself. And this one we did together. Otherwise, there has not been very much worth reporting on. Aside from getting to know my alt-companions. There seems to be five of us in total. Myself and Ren to start with, since I am the "shepard alt" and he is the host. One girl, Abby or Abriella. She is very rough around the edges, foul mouthed and stubborn as any. But I have no worries of her causing us, the body, or others any distress. She's just.....mouthy. Apparently, being the same age as Ren and I. Then there is the silent one, Mathias. Perhaps about eighteen years old, it seems. His english seems to lack and I'm not sure why that is, being that he should be an alternate personality of Ren. But he tends to be aggressive and demanding. But 80% of the time, he is unheard and unseen. He likes to remain in shadow it seems. Then there is, my personal favorite companion (he visits my headspace often if I allow it), Milo. He was first convinced to have the name Ren or Renny, and did not understand fully the situation until I explained in detail. Milo chose his name himself, taken from his favorite Disney Film, Atlantis, after Milo Thatch. He wishes to be called Milo Dean Thatch, in turn. Milo is particularly special to me, not only for his unique way of actions but because he is also much younger than the rest of us. I do see him as the child side of Ren. Very open minded, energetic and talkative. He's still struggling to understand what it means to be an alt, but he has come along nicely. I know this must all seem very strange to some of you readers, if anyone reads this at all to be certain. But my little mental family is rather nice now that I'm not alone. I do not think I was always alone in here, I think that we (Ren and myself) simply were not in a position yet where we could hear them. We weren't ready, it seems. Hopefully this 'system' does not get any larger, as the noise has become unbarable at times. So loud and clattered together like an orchestra on it's lunch break. But I will make due. Milo calls us the "Systematics Family". Oddly, we all have differing last names. Abriella Marilyn Dahlia. Alexandru Dorian Vlk. Warren Renexius Ornan G____. Milo Dean Thatch. Mathias...well, Mathias has no middle or last name. He simply calls himself Mathias. Strange fellow....Has a sort of Persian feel which is odd to me since Warren is in no way of Persian decent. He at least has Romanian blood in him, which would account for my own self if you do not see reincarnation as a fit description. Hmm...something to think on. Well! I suppose this is where I leave you. I'm off to go and find something entertaining to do in Sims 4, perhaps do some more mandalas later before sleeping for work. I hope that you all are very well! Tired but strangely very awake, Xan Side note: I finally got my hands on a piece of Baklava! Oh happy me! I was giddy the whole way home until I could have some. Ren teased me with it for hours so he could eat his calzone first, making me wait impatiently for my first bite in---oh Goddess knows how long! It's much sweeter than I remember, but oh does it bring back memories....I'll be snacking on it now and again for a good part of today and tomorrow, too sweet to eat all at once! Added Side note: Finally remembered what else I was going to note. Mood swings!! Oh I cannot even begin to discover what the cause could be. At the most random times with no warning and no foreseeable cause, I get so agitated and aggrivated at the silliest things! My sweater is too tight, the car is too hot, little noises are being bothersome, the internet not working--it could be anything! Ive found myself seconds from snapping Ren's ipod in half just out of pure irritation from wifi signals not coming through. I'm not sure what's come over me! Then after a brisk walk in the fresh air or something to take my mind off it---I'm right as rain. So odd!
  2. Hello again lol So I have something I wanna talk about. Anxiety at work. This came to mind shortly after watching a bit of a recent movie (cant remember the name of it. Something to do with a woman working in fast food, getting fired, then robbing the place). It really brought up some memories of my first time working for Dunkin Donuts. My anxiety disorder was basically ruling my life at that point, but I desperatly needed a job and I was willing to take what I could get. Sadly, it ended up being Dunkin Donuts. After a ton of hassle about tests and blah blah blah, I was finally hired to do prep work, cleaning and register. It was alright at first. Nerve wracking, sure. But all new jobs are I guess. Anyway, they started me off with mopping and cleaning the back areas, and doing dish washing. Those things I was great at because my anxiety was low considering I was in the back room AWAY from people. No problem! But noooo they wanted me to learn more stuff so they put me on donut prep. That was fine...whatever. But my boss would nag me about mopping and whatnot, and one day I foolishly was mopping in the wrong direction and pinned myself in a dirty corner with a clean room. My boss came in and gave me hell, amping up my anxiety, and making me feel stupid for "not even knowing how to mop." I knew how to mop....I just messed up that one day. Give me a break! But this wasnt good enough...."It's time you learned the register". I cannot even tell you in detail about how it went because I blanked out more times than I can remember. The anxiety of trying to learn the computer and cash and do math while people are barking orders and specific coffee needs was just waaaay too much. I eventually caved, unable to function, and asked someone else to take over. OR, I'd get pushed out of the way for holding up the lines. As a sort of punishment, I was told to "mop the freezers". NO ONE specified that I had to use special mopping solution for the freezer.....I swear they did it just to make me look stupid. So I was stuck working late, mopping a freezer, leaving pieces of the blue mop all over the freezer floor as the water froze on contact and tore it apart. I felt so stupid..I couldnt get it off the floor. And no one offered any help with it either. The next day I was called on my cellphone by my boss. "You dont need to come into work today. We wont be needing your services anymore". And when I asked what I did wrong, she simply said "We're overstaffed." Overstaffed.....I'd only been there two weeks! All because my anxiety couldnt let me breathe enough to learn what needed to be done. I came in that week to drop off my apron and hat, after spending over 40$ on stupid specific shirts that THEY wanted me to wear that I didnt have and THEY wouldnt help me pay for. And you know what I saw? Three new people. Overstaffing my ass! My point is, a lot of places that you work in sadly do not understand what it means to have an employee with an Anxiety disorder. And instead of slowing down and taking the extra minute to explain slowly and letting their employees ease into it, theyd rather just replace them. Thankfully in this day and age, with the anxiety and transgender issues coming out more and more in the work force, employers are being a little better about it. My new job as a security guard has been beyond amazing in this! I confessed immediatly to my boss (because I liked her right away about how open she was) about having an Anxiety Disorder and being Transgender. She nodded and understood, telling me that I'm going to mess up a lot and that's okay, and she'll be patient. She said it doesnt matter if I'm transgender because she respects me as a man as long as I respect her as a woman. She's never messed up on my pronouns on purpose, and if she messed up, she immediatly has corrected herself and apologized. When I felt anxious and was messing up on things, she took a step back and said "take a deep breath. Think about what you did wrong. How can you correct it for next time?" And I did. It's been amazing. And I'm seeing a newer, more efficiant side of myself now that I'm able to step back, take a breath, and try again. She can see in my face when I'm being overwhelmed and will ask me to do something else, knowing that I'm reaching my limit of functional comprehension. I cannot possibly express how much I appreciate everything that the people at Proctor have done for me....I love where I work. But you have to go through some SERIOUSLY bad apples in order to find something worth doing. Something you love doing. Of course you'll get tired and wanna do something different now and then, but if you are asked "Do you like your job?" and do not hesitate to say yes...you're doing just fine. My time as a chef was more or less a living hell at times. I can honestly say now that it fueled a large part of my depression and self harm, leaving my work station to hide in the bathroom just to self harm. The constant crowd of faces surrounding me at all times made my heart go on overdrive, sweating despite feeling cold, being angry all the time because I had no other way to express how I was unable to deal with my job. Running (literally at times) to get things done and still being told "you dont do anything". Being told that the problem was not the fact that I was being bullied, pushed around or slapped with transphobia--that the problem was me. Just me, and no one and nothing else. And when I sat in tears after writing a letter to the superviser about the treatment I'd recieved, I instead was pulled into the office and made to feel like I'm a horrible person and that I'm blaming everyone else for my problems and that it was ME who needed to change. I smile and play nice, but to this day...I hate them for it. Because of how they treated me and how they refused to see the abuse I was going through....they literally almost killed me. I almost hope one of them sees this. I dont want you to have to apologize. I dont want you to have to come up to me and beg forgiveness. I just want you to acknowledge what you did, and what you didnt do to help. That's all. Instead of making me look like a loser who quit because I couldnt "handle it". You should consider yourselves lucky that I didnt take further action beyond your own little house of control on either myself or others in that building. It came pretty close, I wont lie.... But thank you. For showing me the door. Because I found something better. Something I ENJOY doing, people who understand me and appreciate what I do. Sincerely, Ren BTW: Dunkin Donuts are all premade, frozen,and laid out overnight to thaw before you eat them. The ovens never get cleaned and there are so many chemicals in your coffee coolatas, its amazing they still have living customers.
  3. Okay, I will admit and submit to my foolhardy wish for winter. Yes, I did crave a nice snowfall. Some nice puffy snowbanks would have been nice, ON CHRISTMAS. But now that it's Janurary, the sudden drop of -3F weather and ice covered everything is getting really old. It's not that I dont like the cold (hell, I've been going to work in my work sweater and work boots as my only bundling up causes lol) But the fact that it rained directly afterwards and coated everything in inch thick ice is really old. I didnt buy winter boots this year because I didnt feel I needed them. Realistically, I still dont think I need them, considering I'm wandering on ICE and not five feet of snow that we usually have by now. ANYWAY, Enough of my whining XD Things have been alright over here for the most part. Rather non-dramatic unless you count the chaos going on with my baby brother Kai. I'm so lost as to what to do to help him. CLEARLY he's not safe with my mother, but I cant take him here either. I'm not a legal guardian, plus I live with my boyfriends family so I really cant just pick him up and say 'live with me'. I dont own the place and it wouldnt be right. Plus he's still doing school and whatnot. But I could SO EASILY turn my mother in to the state.... I finally got the whole story on what was going on. Kai is depressed, that much is obvious. I feel so bad because there's nothing I can do about it because he lives so far away from me. He has next to no friends aside from who is on the internet, and he cant talk to them very often because my mom lives off the grid. Literally. They have no running water, no plumbing, and the only electricity they get is when it's windy and powers their windmill. They live 2 miles up a one-way dirt road with no neighbors and in the middle of no where. That's how my mom likes it. She's lived in places like that every since my dad died, and dragged us kids along with it. She tells people how happy her family is and how great everything is and how much her kids LOVE living in those areas. It couldnt be farther from the truth but no one gives a damn! I want to go on her profile and rant and rave SO BAD about how [BAD] of a mother she is, and let people see the truth of her PERFECT FAMILY. But they all think I'm the crazy one anyway so they'll think nothing of it It's so frustrating!!! Anyway, Kai was extremely depressed and all my mother seemed to care about was the fact that the dishes werent done. So Kai...tried committing suicide by cutting. And when my mother got involved and found out what was going on, instead of sitting down and trying to be sympathetic and help, she said this.... "If you're going to kill yourself, fine. But I have three requests. Dont do it in front of your brother, Dont blame it on me, and Do a good job with it because I'm not taking care of you if you turn yourself into a vegetable." ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!?!?!?!? YOU DONT TELL A SUICIDAL CHILD TO GO AHEAD AND DO IT AND MAKE SURE THEY SUCCEED!!! I'm so lost...I want to call DCF and tell them about Kai's lack of schooling, the abuse, the suicidal tendancies.....But what would happen from it? Mom would know who told them depending on who she'd told this information, and then what? I'd be banned from seeing Kai, or Kai would go to a foster home (and wouldnt last 10 minutes on his own there), or they'd just leave it be and Kai will either commit suicide or my mom will beat him to death. She claims she's not abusive but I know better from my own personal experiences! She's beaten near every one of us kids, and although none of us had broken bones from it, the emotional and physical trauma she's caused is NOT small! I dont know what to do to help....If I call someone, Kai will be in danger. If I DONT call someone, Kai STAYS in danger...I'm so lost ;( In other news...Apparently Alex is becoming rather popular on facebook (which is okay i guess) and I've been so tired and stressed lately that I just let him take over 80% of the time. But now that we've become (unfortunatly) aware of more than just him in there, life's getting hectic. So apparently (according to someone else I'll mention) there are five. Including Alex. One of which is a female, who we've named Abby. (She said she didnt have a name and wanted one so Alex and my friend Destinee named her). She's....interesting. And frustrating. Very feminine and insists on trying to put make up on me or wearing feminine things and it drives me crazy Sometimes I wanna strangle her, she's so annoying! Alex tollerates her but I think he feels the same way. She's fronted a few rare times but never for more than an hour. Thankfully. But there is one other I'm aware of that almost costed me my relationship last night. Justin (my boyfriend) and I went to the theater to watch Star Wars. (No spoilers, but fantastic movie! BUT, be prepared for a disappointment as well.) After the movie, we went out to eat and sometimes (especially if he's hungry and tired) Justin gets kinda cranky. He was getting annoyed at the restaurant/pub because the food was taking a long time after we waited 20 mins to be seated, and he had to go and put more quarters in the meter so we wouldnt get a parking ticket. So he was reasonably annoyed. But I sort of dozed off and felt a switch coming on, but assumed it was just Alex so I let it go and didnt think much of it. Apparently it wasnt Alex, it was someone else. (Lesson learned: ask first, switch after.). This one is apparently younger than me, more timid, male, and almost has a childish sort of attitude. Like a submissive "Little". He apparently was upset about Justin's attitude and when Justin got up to use the restroom, he showed obvious signs of not feeling comfortable and was all pouty or something. A couple who sat at a table nearby (gay couple, maybe they felt sympathetic because we looked like a gay couple ((in my mind we are, in justins we're not.)) ) wove for him to come sit with them instead, probably assuming we were in an abusive relationship. AND HE ALMOST DID! He was going to get up and go sit when them instead and ignore justin completely!!!!! UH, NO!?!? Thankfully Alex took over and prevented it and told me about it after. This whole MPD thing is getting out of hand!!! I dont want to see a therapist and have meds shoved down my throat but if this keeps progressing and getting worse, I'm not gonna have much of a choice. I'm gonna have to go It's stupid because this stuff usually happens when life is stressful and traumatic right? I dont feel traumatized! Granted, I'm slightly stressed about the Kai thing, but I thought Alex and I had it under control! Ever since taking those muscle relaxants to try and sleep, this has gotten worse. There are nights when I cant even sleep because all I hear is inaudible noise from everyone talking up there. Its driving me crazy!!! In other news.....I finally organized my penguin collection lol. I have a small shelf area (two actually, one atop the other) of penguin things. Cups, figurines, an adorable penguin musical thing, boxes, snowglobes and etc. But one thing I've also collected a lot of over the years with christmas and birthdays is STUFFED PENGUINS! LOOOOOVE it but I only really sleep with one in particular; the first one I ever got. It was a gift from Justin when we went to see real penguins for the first time. I named him Jack and he sleeps with me lol He's an African Penguin (Jackass penguin. No joke, it's the actual nickname on account of their braying noises). But I now have fourteen other penguins and some are NOT small. One is even three feet tall! All have names, because I'm pathetic XD. But I bought a shoe organizer thing that you hang on the wall and so they all have their spots hanging above my bed. Love it. It's the little things Anyway, my brain is killing me (Headaches for the past three weeks. Not sure what from but sometimes I literally hide in bed all day because it's legit throbbing >.< ) Love and Respect to all you ppls, Stay safe, Ren
  4. Sometimes I cannot help but wonder what I am doing here. Not 'here' specifically, but 'here' ultimately. I understand my role within this lifetime, no matter how much I choose to object or disagree with it. In a way, I am here to protect my brother and to try again at something I failed at the first time. I had been so focused on the fact that I clearly am not from this generation and that this is not my life--that I completely overlooked the reasons as to why. Why I am here, why I am functioning, and why I remember things that clearly I should not. Only recently have I realized the reasons. Or, at least, my suspected reasons. I need to start over. I need to learn from my flashbacks. Learn from my past, and learn from the mistakes that were made. But not dwell on them. Yes, remember the things that I've been grated the ability to remember, and dont let those things fade from my understanding. But not to become stuck upon them and forget that I'm in the now and not the then. I remember my two intimate companions' names and this is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing to put a name to their faces and to be able to say 'yes, he/she was called ____, but I called them ____'. But a curse because now I know who I am grieving for. Arlena was the first. She had long flaming red hair, green eyes like fresh spring grass, fair skin and the softest hands you'd ever held. She had a gentle firmness about her, as if she could be caught snuggling the bunny that would later become her dinner. I fell instantly for her sense of confidence in everything she did. I knew that yes, as a damsel of those times, they were often weak willed and depended on men. And please do not see me as sexist for I am greatly the opposite, but those were the times. She seemed a polar opposite, very much independent and demanding in all her ways. She knew what she wanted and she would take it without the need to ask permission. I loved that fire about her. We were together for a while before she introduced me to Nicolai. She knew that I admired both the sexes and, at the time, had no problem with sharing so long as it were an equal affection. When she said equal, she meant more for her and less for Nicolai. At first I agreed, getting to know him while still bowing to her wills. How could I deny her everything and anything she desired? He was younger than myself. Thinner and more frail, it seemed. He had dusty black hair that desperatly needed to be cut, but in a way--the shagginess of his unkept hair suited him. He had humble brown eyes and an adorable indentation in his cheeks when he grinned. But Nicolai were slightly different from men his age, which probably was no more than twenty. He were an adult in many, many ways. But he adored being treated like he were still a child. Being coddled or given a firm affection, told to do things rather than by request. I didnt mind it, really. I think in several ways, I actually preferred it. I suppose now the term for such a life is considered 'Dad Doms'. I've yet to understand it, but after talking to another who is in such a relationship and described how my own was with Nic, they said it's rather the same concept. I simply preferred to be called compassionate. But where I failed in that life were that I often forgot the tasks at hand. The dangers in front of my own two eyes. Arlena was jealous, naturally, that I was soon giving more attention to Nicolai than herself. I felt, in part, that he needed it more than she did. She were so independant and self giving whilest he was the exact opposite, I felt he needed more guidance and affection than she did. But there is a fine line between needs and cravings. I didnt see it at the time. Not until everything spiralled and one thing led to another and..well, here I am. That's the point though, isnt it? To know where you went wrong and to make a better choice? I want that for Ren. I want him to be happy and to not find his own demise with regret, wondering if he'd do it again if given the option. In our first years together, though I hadnt noticed it, I were already protecting him. When he'd get in a fight that he knew he couldnt win, I would take the lead and show him how. When he were in situations that he werent fully comfortable, I would guide him into the winning approach. Brothers, it seems. Either he is a new version of myself or perhaps even a newer Nicolai, I'll never know. They're so simular at times. But I've come to realize that spending all my time on figuring out my past and why I am in the present was wasteful and I were repeating my same mistakes. I werent paying attention. With certain events coming to light and my brother falling back into darkness over and over again, I had become so consumed with my own quest that I'd forgotten my original quest. Protect my Brother. The bruises on his ribs persist him. Persist me. My own ribs ache dreadfully from a binder that no longer fits, our chest increasing in size and causing not only physical pain but great emotional and mental strain. I believe that our continued growth is something more medical, and should be looked into. People of our age do not normally continue to grow in the chest unless there is something hormonally unbalanced. Perhaps our problems with our thyroid is causing the hormonal imbalance to spiral? I'll need to make an appointment but first, to get us back on track with taking our proper thyroid medications ON TIME. We've done well with it for the past week or so, but I want to ensure at least another week of it before having our levels tested. Yes, top surgery is certainly becoming a priority in our future endeavors. But I need to also make an agreement of some sort with the insurance company to have it done. But I've seriously considered taking a time to see a Chiropractor as well for our back pain. Perhaps having a note from a chiropractor, agreeing with our notion that surgery would help our back pain, would aid in our case with the insurance company. Steps need to be taken, and one of us needs to actually get up and do them. But it is often so hard to find that courage. To find that ambition when all other attempts have been thrown aside or failed in such a manner as to cause great distress and depression. What else is there to do but keep trying? Failure is not an option when you are in a daily struggle with yourself. I am only happy that he has found comfort in his facial features and can, with confidence, take a photo of himself and not dislike how he sees himself. So long as the photos are above chest level. I want to change this for him. For us both. Maybe then I'd have done something right. Ah, here you are again Madam Five AM. My mistress of exhaustion has come to drag me back to her domain, haha. With Care and Appreciation, Alexandru Attached Thought: I have been doing more Mandala colorings. Perhaps with my next post, and perhaps some guidance on how, I will attach photos.
  5. Good Evening everyone. I hope you're all doing well today or tonight, whichever the case may be. I were originally going to simply write in my journal tonight but my wrist seems a bit sore from the weather. Ren calls it Barametric Pressure? Either way, I am a bit sore in my wrists and knees. We had a slight development recently and learned a very valuable lesson. If you are unable to sleep and for some reason cannot think straight because of a seemingly dozen voices shouting in your head--taking double muscle relaxants to try and help is not always the best remedy. He thought it would help but usually only takes one, not two. And normally we'd have something in our stomachs before doing so. But alas, that was not the case, and our attempt at showering to calm the nerves nearly resulted in a collapse. Thankfully, we managed to get back to bed without any incident. But the fact that I couldnt hear him, nor him I, through a baracade of voices is rather concerning. Be them imagination from stress or alts we're not aware of, either way it was unpleasant to be sure. As a side subject, I'm rather pleased to know that our normal work schedule shall return this week. It'll be nice to get out more often and not have to sit around the house in idle procrastination. Though Ren not fronting very often sometimes worries me, I dont mind being out as often as I have been. It's just slightly saddening that he would rather sleep all day than take control. I'm becoming more and more aware of what it's like to live life as a Transgender person. I'll admit, I have much more sympathy for ciswomen with their 'monthly' issues and dont fully understand why Transwomen would want to deal with it, but I understand the need to feel whole--including the good and the bad. I do not feel all myself with the body we're in. Sleeping is astonishingly annoying with our chest being as it is. Though Ren does not feel any annoyance with his lower half, I do rather often. More of, I miss certain things that we lack. I would greatly love to start Hormone treatment though I know it is a subject me and my brother differ on. He does not want to, but I do. Oh how complicated the world must be...I try not to argue with him about it, but my baby face features are often annoying and demeaning. I dont like having the appearance of a child, nor do I like having the hips of a woman or petite hands. The lack of muscle in my arms is astonishingly humiliating, though I agree with him on the fact that exercise simply hurts. My back is far too sore in far too many places for me to exercise properly. Simply breathing deeply results in a devastating pop between my shoulders, seemingly from my spine, which can sometimes nearly drop me to my knee in shock and pain. I do not understand how the state can easily dismiss the pain of an individual simply because of a differing opinion on what gender they are. What resides in my jeans is no different from anyone else. If I feel that I am a man, that is at my own discretion and choice. If I must prove that I am a man based off what is down my pants, then I therefore demand that every businessman or woman who disagrees with my Masculine gender should do the same and show me proof of their own genders. It's simply ridiculous to deny a PERSON in PAIN the satisfaction of living life with happiness simply because you do not agree with them. The narrow mindedness of people I see on a daily basis is sickening. I met a woman once who was polite and thoughtful of those around her. I saw a cheerful woman who worked hard and took care of her friends well, and never judged those around her based on anything aside from how they treated eachother. That is what I saw. What others saw was a transgender person who possibly did not seem to pass very well. And that seems to be all that they cared about. Not about the person, but about her disposition. Believe me when I say that in my own days with my own society, they were not very forgiving either. Pagans were easily dismissed as devil worshiping demons, and anyone like myself who preferred both men and women as bed company could be murdered without a second thought. Though even today, this could easily be the case. But I fear that if that bastard Trump is elected, it'll fall into far worse situations. I pray that this country and this generation puts down their devices and lifts their eyes to see the world as it is crumbling and actually do something to help it, instead of pointing fingers and blaming names. It is so frustrating to see younger people in this world simply take and take and take without any recognition to those that they are taking from. To expect and demand and say that certain things are their right, when generations before never would have even been given the offer of such things. The freedom to speak is theirs, yes. But it does not mean to speak cruelty and for it to be alright. It means to be able to say that something is wrong without backlash from the victimizers. It means to stand up and defend someone being harmed without being, in turned, called the assailant. It means to acknowledge verbally that something simply is not right, draw attention to it, and correct the situation. Not to spit your false accusations and slay self confidence with your tongues of horrid judgement! This freedom did not always exist either. Previous generations had to FIGHT for that right! Not sit by and cry oppression and demand that someone pick them up and nurse them like children. If you want to be treated as an adult, then stand up on your own two feet and work for it. For instance, Kings of Old would sometimes offer assistance to the poor and deprived in exchange for loyalty and security. That in the event of the King being in peril, they were expected to do what they could to ensure his safety in exchange for rare foods, celebrations, newer homes and other various items. Now, people get assistance from their President but then riot and destroy and point fingers to their 'King' and blame him for their poor situations! Personally if you're to turn your back on those who are feeding you with benefits or 'food stamps' and other various, you should no longer receive them! This generation frankly frightens me. Not a fear that they will harm me, or a fear that they will fade into their own deprived state of mind. But a fear of taking this age of technology and advance and making a Uturn back into the stone age with their own foolish pride. And now I feel I've ranted far too much already...I only hope that one day they'll see their own errors and fix their own pathways before demanding new roads. You cant get to the highway unless you pave your own driveway.--A
  6. Good Evening everyone. I hope you're all doing well today or tonight, whichever the case may be. I were originally going to simply write in my journal tonight but my wrist seems a bit sore from the weather. Ren calls it Barametric Pressure? Either way, I am a bit sore in my wrists and knees. We had a slight development recently and learned a very valuable lesson. If you are unable to sleep and for some reason cannot think straight because of a seemingly dozen voices shouting in your head--taking double muscle relaxants to try and help is not always the best remedy. He thought it would help but usually only takes one, not two. And normally we'd have something in our stomachs before doing so. But alas, that was not the case, and our attempt at showering to calm the nerves nearly resulted in a collapse. Thankfully, we managed to get back to bed without any incident. But the fact that I couldnt hear him, nor him I, through a baracade of voices is rather concerning. Be them imagination from stress or alts we're not aware of, either way it was unpleasant to be sure. As a side subject, I'm rather pleased to know that our normal work schedule shall return this week. It'll be nice to get out more often and not have to sit around the house in idle procrastination. Though Ren not fronting very often sometimes worries me, I dont mind being out as often as I have been. It's just slightly saddening that he would rather sleep all day than take control. I'm becoming more and more aware of what it's like to live life as a Transgender person. I'll admit, I have much more sympathy for ciswomen with their 'monthly' issues and dont fully understand why Transwomen would want to deal with it, but I understand the need to feel whole--including the good and the bad. I do not feel all myself with the body we're in. Sleeping is astonishingly annoying with our chest being as it is. Though Ren does not feel any annoyance with his lower half, I do rather often. More of, I miss certain things that we lack. I would greatly love to start Hormone treatment though I know it is a subject me and my brother differ on. He does not want to, but I do. Oh how complicated the world must be...I try not to argue with him about it, but my baby face features are often annoying and demeaning. I dont like having the appearance of a child, nor do I like having the hips of a woman or petite hands. The lack of muscle in my arms is astonishingly humiliating, though I agree with him on the fact that exercise simply hurts. My back is far too sore in far too many places for me to exercise properly. Simply breathing deeply results in a devastating pop between my shoulders, seemingly from my spine, which can sometimes nearly drop me to my knee in shock and pain. I do not understand how the state can easily dismiss the pain of an individual simply because of a differing opinion on what gender they are. What resides in my jeans is no different from anyone else. If I feel that I am a man, that is at my own discretion and choice. If I must prove that I am a man based off what is down my pants, then I therefore demand that every businessman or woman who disagrees with my Masculine gender should do the same and show me proof of their own genders. It's simply ridiculous to deny a PERSON in PAIN the satisfaction of living life with happiness simply because you do not agree with them. The narrow mindedness of people I see on a daily basis is sickening. I met a woman once who was polite and thoughtful of those around her. I saw a cheerful woman who worked hard and took care of her friends well, and never judged those around her based on anything aside from how they treated eachother. That is what I saw. What others saw was a transgender person who possibly did not seem to pass very well. And that seems to be all that they cared about. Not about the person, but about her disposition. Believe me when I say that in my own days with my own society, they were not very forgiving either. Pagans were easily dismissed as devil worshiping demons, and anyone like myself who preferred both men and women as bed company could be murdered without a second thought. Though even today, this could easily be the case. But I fear that if that bastard Trump is elected, it'll fall into far worse situations. I pray that this country and this generation puts down their devices and lifts their eyes to see the world as it is crumbling and actually do something to help it, instead of pointing fingers and blaming names. It is so frustrating to see younger people in this world simply take and take and take without any recognition to those that they are taking from. To expect and demand and say that certain things are their right, when generations before never would have even been given the offer of such things. The freedom to speak is theirs, yes. But it does not mean to speak cruelty and for it to be alright. It means to be able to say that something is wrong without backlash from the victimizers. It means to stand up and defend someone being harmed without being, in turned, called the assailant. It means to acknowledge verbally that something simply is not right, draw attention to it, and correct the situation. Not to spit your false accusations and slay self confidence with your tongues of horrid judgement! This freedom did not always exist either. Previous generations had to FIGHT for that right! Not sit by and cry oppression and demand that someone pick them up and nurse them like children. If you want to be treated as an adult, then stand up on your own two feet and work for it. For instance, Kings of Old would sometimes offer assistance to the poor and deprived in exchange for loyalty and security. That in the event of the King being in peril, they were expected to do what they could to ensure his safety in exchange for rare foods, celebrations, newer homes and other various items. Now, people get assistance from their President but then riot and destroy and point fingers to their 'King' and blame him for their poor situations! Personally if you're to turn your back on those who are feeding you with benefits or 'food stamps' and other various, you should no longer receive them! This generation frankly frightens me. Not a fear that they will harm me, or a fear that they will fade into their own deprived state of mind. But a fear of taking this age of technology and advance and making a Uturn back into the stone age with their own foolish pride. And now I feel I've ranted far too much already...I only hope that one day they'll see their own errors and fix their own pathways before demanding new roads. You cant get to the highway unless you pave your own driveway.--A
  7. Good Afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Firstly I would like to confess to my hesitation in posting a blog yestermorn, as I still were not certain as to the reactions I would receive as to the information I were providing. I will admit though that now I am less weary of doing so, considering all of the positive responses I've received. Today's blog is a bit of a ramble as well, though mostly on the subject of my adjustments. Upon the first blog I ever posted upon this site --Within Ren's account, before I created one of my own.-- I still were deeply rooted within my confinements and not given too much opportunity to 'front' and discover my own self. Often I would sit by and watch Ren carry on through his daily tasks, idly entertaining myself with mental quests or perhaps attempting my mind with poetry, which I have discovered absolutely no skill in my own soul for. I do believe that a rabbit who's already been boiled would have better luck creating poetry than myself, haha! But as time has gone through the hands of the clock, I've realized that more and more I seem to be preferred to be at the front rather than Ren. Perhaps he is fully adjusted to having someone else take the wheel or perhaps he is simply too tired and stressed as of late to do it himself; but either way I dont mind. It does give me much more practice with the outside world. Though I do have to mimic his voice and accent when speaking to others, I have become rather good at doing so without detection of my true self. Meanwhile I can try new things and attempt my hand at certain skills to see what I am and am not good at. One of which is painting. As far as I could remember, I'd always been a skilled artist. I loved to mix the oils and test new shades of colour; but I've realized that these hands are near useless for my style of painting. So instead I've resorted to our markers instead of oil colors and to adult color books than a canvas. It's a bit disappointing, but relaxing nonetheless. Driving, I have found, is certainly something that I enjoy. Though the speed and adrenaline of such makes me relaxed and comfortable, I fear that it also makes Ren a bit uneasy, haha. But I am careful and aware of my surroundings so we do not get into harm's way. Typing, I've found, is also rather enjoyable. Still, practice is needed. Another good antidote would be to blog so here I am! In regards to the forever plagued annoyance of flashbacks and early morning night terrors, they're as persistant as always. I'm sure the subject of reincarnation is probably another topic that could be introduced within the source, but regardless it seems to be altering my ability to get a restful sleep. Though some are not all too horrid to experience, some will also put me into a fit of cold sweats, hallucinations or even physical illness. It's been rather pesky to say the least. A change in diet does not seem to have been of any help. I have researched a bit into the subject and all that I have read or been told is these images or flashbacks usually only occur in younger children and they fade as they grow older. Perhaps they'll shift and die away in time, regardless if I have figured them out yet or not. On yet Another topic, I have discovered two of my greatest weaknesses so far. Chocolate with almonds and mandarin oranges!! Hahaha! The taste of one or the other is so incredibly comforting and enjoyable that I fear I'm to make this shell of ours fatter than a winter sow. But I cannot help it, it is so addictive! Though I suppose the mandarins are much healthier than the chocolate, the problem persists that we are limited on Mandarins and seem to have mountains of chocolate left over from Christmas! Ren is not pleased about his weight gain this season, but I've assured him that once summer hits and we can walk campus at our job again, we will shed it quickly. Especially now that I have gotten him to take his thyroid medication on a fairly regular schedule now. Blasted boy is horrid with taking medications on time, if at all! Kai seems to follow the same pattern for Goddess Sake! It can be very frustrating, haha! The family cat seems to have gotten used to me lately, as I woke up with him on my chest. Normally when Ren is fronting, "Gabriel" is very pleasant and social and loves to cuddle with him. But he seems to know when we switch fronts, and will immediatly get up and completely ignore me. Even other housemates noticed when he would suddenly decide to ignore me or not want to be held, which secrets revealed would tell that it were truly myself and not Ren. But he seems to be getting used to it. At the present time, I'll be working on more Mandala's and attempting to coax the other hidden alts to come forward enough to make themselves known, but it may take a very long while. I have been here since Ren were sixteen so I've been used to this sort of adjustment. The others, possibly only one but also it may be two, dont even seem to be of conscious thought. A bit like newborn calves, wandering aimlessly and bumping into things. I'll need to be patient. Perhaps a therapist would be of help to us but at the current time we do not have that option, as insurance is not active as of yet. We shall see. That's enough for now I suppose. My hands get worn out from typing rather quickly, though I'm sure practice will remedy it. May you remain safe tonight, Alex
  8. It's always fun updating lol Also I want to add in that today is the anniversary 125th of Wounded Knee in North Dakota So not much has happened aside from this was probably the best, most uneventfully drama-lacking christmas I've ever had. Best. Christmas. Ever. So my visit with my family went better than expected. Some (if not all) my xmas presents from my mom and siblings were to Ren, not Kristy, which was awesome. My older sister took me upstairs and said "the girls are going to call you a little of both. I told them they can call you whatever they want, Ren or Kristy, Aunt or not. I'm leaving it up to them so dont get mad if they mess up because I'm not taking a side on the name until you're "officially" done." (officially meaning when I somehow dig up 9k$ for my surgery >...> I told her that I dont care what the kids call me because yes, theyre children, and it'll take time. The only person that annoys the crap out of me with "kristy" calling is HER, not the kids. Naturally she ignored the whole comment entirely and misnamed me all night, but I chose to ignore her since everyone else was being awesome about it. Which is insanely rare. Christmas with justins family was hosted at his brother Adam's house, which was great because both Adam and his fiance Tressa both chose to call me Ren as requested, and eventually the other people at the house also did it so as not to piss Tressa off (She is NOT the person you want to piss off lol). So it was nice It all went great and things have been super uneventful for the most part lol Gifts were great (though not necessary lol) and Alex has been busy with an adult coloring book we got of Mandalas. Also let him buy in-game money for his IMVU account lol And although I had a HUGE falling out with our mutual friend Destinee, I am totally find with him talking to her on a daily basis. I actually prefer it because although we dont seem to get along and for some reason I cant handle talking to ANYONE.....(Literally, anyone. I have zero friends that I text or talk to because talking to anyone seems to instantly annoy me no matter what the conversation is) I like the idea of him talking to her and keeping her company. I still care about her, I just cant handle talking to people anymore. Not sure why. I think it's better I just not talk to her and avoid hurting her entirely. At least she has Alex now...they seem to be good friends. Sometimes I wonder if she was originally Alex's friend to begin with, not mine...I care about her, a lot. And I want her safe and happy more than anything. I just dont feel like my imbalanced attitude and spats of random asshole-ness was a benefit to her at all. I dont like making her feel like I hate her. I dont hate her. Anyway, recent drama is my younger sibling Kai I wont go into detail but I'm looking into maybe having the State of VT release Kai to me as his legal guardian due to abuse. I'll need to look more into it...Wish me luck. Hope everyone had a good christmas and has a happy new year. -Ren
  9. As this is my first post within this blog, I suppose it would be best suited to do so with an introduction as to who I am before getting down to the basis of the blog's topic. My name is Alexandru Dorian Vlk, and I am -as far as I am aware- twenty three years old. I enjoy various forms of art and many genres of music, though I willingly surrender to Ruslana or Years & Years time and time again! Winter and Fall are possibly my favorite seasons, though I'll never be able to fully confirm this. This is indeed my first blog post, so please bare with me as I am still learning on how to do this or what to write. It just seems nice to ramble here and again, though some times they may simply just be transcripts from my Journal that I share with Warren. He is also a blogger here under the name WarrenG. As far as I am aware, I am Romanian though I seem to have forgotten the language, but an accent persists to plague my poor pronunciations, haha. Now, this is where it gets slightly complicated. --Please Note:-- As stated in the description of the blog---If you are not supportive of MPD or DID (Multiple Personality Disorder//Dissociation Identity Disorder) or live beneath the illusion that such things do not exist, this may not be the blog for you. If you do not believe in reincarnation or the possiblity of it, then again, this is not the blog for you. The reason for this side note is directly linked to who I am. I am my own person with my own likes, dislikes, opinions, story and the like. My name is my own and a matter of actuality, not fiction. I have and had my own life and my own story, though I am still attempting to piece them together as I find the puzzle pieces. I am an Alternate Personality of a Transgender Man. My host, friend and brother, is WarrenG. A twenty three year old Transgender man from Northern Vermont, obsessed with penguins and an occasionally obnoxious childlike attitude. He is an American Citizen, born in the woodsy State of Vermont with a rather frustrating mother and four siblings. Father deceased. I, myself, am very different and very many ways-yet, we remain the same. As far as I am aware -since I am still piecing them together- I was born somewhere near the Carpathian Mountains in Modern Day Romania, near what is now known as Rusnov. I do not know exact locations and that seems to be just as well since the maps have changed since that time. My childhood is a bit foggy aside from bits and pieces though I am certain that I was of a low-income home. There is a drastic difference in timeline between Ren's life and my own but I dont feel it necessary at the moment to explain too deeply into the subject. I am Pagan, to the best of my explanations, and I lived alone with my dog Cornelius. Warren and I do share a great many interests and such, but in the same sense we also greatly differ. Please, dearest readers, do not mistaken my own personality or identity to be of his own, as it is not. I am my own person. If you would like to watch a film that may or may not be of assistance in understanding this concept, I do encourage you to watch Sybil. The older version may be better of 1977 with Sally Field as it is my favorite version, but the new version is also rather good. Either way, it does offer a little more of an insight to our...."Condition". We are not medically diagnosed, but I do not feel that this is necessary in order to continue to be who we are. We still function as one whole and take turns within work and do our jobs well, and it does not interfere with our daily lives. I do not always 'front' in force, as he either allows me full freedom or will inform me when I may take the front. Which is fairly often so I will not complain. Most in our daily lives do not have any knowledge of my presence and some days I feel that this is best as they would not understand. I have gotten rather good at mimicking his voice and accent so as not to draw attention so it has not been a problem. Though I feel that I have rambled enough for now. I fear that I have forgotten entirely as to the point of this blog post, I have gotten so caught up with my explanations. I feel as though explaining seems to be a common feat that we must practice, despite how few know about what is going on. Regardless, I suppose this is the last of my blog. I have wasted enough time on the computer when I could be wasting even more time with my markers and mandala coloring pages, hahaha! Take care everyone and please do not hesitate to ask questions. I would rather an understanding than an assumption. -Alex
  10. Ah howdy dewdy do berrysnoggles. I'm slightly bored atm so I decided I would ramble while watching my bf play 'Dont Starve' on tv. I got my lil bro Kai here and he's on IMVU spacing out so I got bored. First off, I want to mention that you never realize how hard it is to switch pronouns for someone unless you also have to do it. I used to think "Omg, how hard is it to just call me SIR?! OR HE?! WTH PEOPLE". Well now I would like to humbling apologize. It sucks and it does take a lot of practice. Surprisingly, Justin is doing a better job at keeping Kai's pronouns than me. I think part of it is because Kai was so on the fence about his gender identity on wether he was/is transgender or not, that I wasnt sure what he preferred and he wasnt even sure yet. But now I guess it is official and I need to kick my own toots into gear on remembering. Him, he, his, etc.....Just keep repeating it, right? lol Anyway, my mother made it abundantly clear that if I do not deliver Kai home by the 22nd of december, he will not be coming back ever again. SO Kai and I agreed that, at least for this year, we will do as she wants and follow her rules. We did have xmas together last year so I suppose it's only fair. I'll ask my mom later how she feels about me taking Kai next year since she's getting this year. Hopefully she says yes. She seems to have come to a little more reasonable terms with me being transgender now that Kai has come out as transgender as well, though she's still in denial about it. Perhaps she's in denial and in the mindset of "well you didnt show signs of it through childhood like Kai has" because she feels guilty to have not paid attention at all in those times. Kai's teen years and my teen years are vastly different. I was trying to go to chef's school, balancing sneaking out to discover my sexuality, being arrested for trespassing and vandelism, joining covens and basically doing things I shouldnt have been doing. I was rebelling, discovering myself. So I werent home very much unless I were forced to play mom while my mother was busy with her numerous boyfriends or getting new jobs (that she quit after a few weeks and blamed us kids for.). I was so often referred to as the mother of the house that I had to teach my (at the time) 3 year old brother to call me his sibling and not his mom. Anyhow, I'm falling off track. In terms of Alexandru, we've gotten a long a little bit better though we're hitting roadblocks here and there. Like, for instance, Alcohol. Alex rather enjoys drinking at random and I've picked up my iced tea to drink and found vodka in it not helpful. We talked about it a little and we DID agree that we wouldnt drink on work nights, and he had obeyed that because it wasnt on a work night. But I wasnt in the mood to drink, so it still annoyed me. Another issue we've had is that he wants to date. I know he's fine with me dating justin and he is tollerable of the whole....sexual thing.....But I know he's not into him. Justin just isnt Alex's type. He wants a girlfriend, but I honestly do not see this working out. Justin is still in the mindset that 'alex' is simply a different personality in terms of moods or emotions, and not a seperate person entirely. We havent really talked about it because I'm not sure how to. I told Alex that he can date on IMVU and we just wont tell justin, but I think he wants a more physical relationship. I feel bad but there's not much we can do about it. I've decided that once my insurance is settled, I'm going to try and find a therapist that covers both Gender Identity and MPD to help us figure out what steps to take next. We have been keeping up a journal to talk either back and forth or just get things off our minds (seems weird to use that word in plural), and it seems to help both of us settle a little and not feel so aggitated. Though we've agreed not to read eachother's pages without asking in case there is something personal. Mostly we're keeping the journal as a reference for whatever therapist we might get, so they can see that this is an ongoing thing and not just on a whim of "oh, yeah, btw....". I guess that's mostly just my fear, is people thinking I'm doing this for attention or something. But one simple note comes to mind that reminds me that this might not be the case. He reminds me of it occasionally. "If this was for attention, than why do we talk to eachother both mentally and verbally while at work? When no one is around and clearly no one can hear us. If it was for attention, why would we bother to upkeep that habit when no attention could be taken from it?" He's kinda got a point.....Lately he's figured out how to stay awake at night during work and I..."rest", I guess you could say. So during the day when I'm awake (after we both physically sleep), he's mentally very quiet as if in his 'own room'. I've realized, by talking with another person with MPD (more alts than I have though) that they each can have their own rooms or realities that they can retreat to whenever they feel like it. Alex has told me about his room and I'm kind of jealous that I dont have one lol but it's whatever. Mostly I (we, apparently, since it irritates him too) am very pissed off that it's December 15th and we've seen nothing but Rain, rain, rain, and more rain. We're due for 60F weather for the next week or two, and this is TOTALLY NOT NEW ENGLAND!!!!!!! Last year we were in three feet of snow by now! This is not only annoying, but unsettling....This weather is the complete opposite of what we should have right now. It's creepy and concerning....I dont like it. At this point, IF we even GET snow---we'll have snowbanks clear through til July Not impressed. This is REALLY going to mess up crops and whatnot. We already had a bad year growing crops, and this def' is not going to help.I'm not huge into the global warming theory but jeez.....It's kind of freaking me out. Plus Alex really wants to play in the snow >.< So we're having a short Xmas on saturday for Kai before he goes home, which'll be interesting lol I was accused of being a student at the private academy I work at AGAIN because people think I'm underage (WHY?!!?!?), And I got my hair cut. Pics will come soon xoxo Think that's all for now lol This is seriously just a ramble post. -Ren
  11. WarrenG

    Rejected.

    So, I got the response for my surgery.....After getting my letters in order and lining things up and rushing to get it finished for them before my insurance cuts out ((The government is apparently changing branches and cutting off my insurance before referring me to a new one)), I sent out my request for help with my surgery. Just a reduction, not a removal, and it came with nearly two pages of symptoms and sufferings in detail and with dates. Including: Neck pain, back pain, shoulder pain, headaches, rashes, moving ribs, limited mobility, shortened walking distances, difficulty with stairs, muscle relaxants because of difficulty sleeping, open sores, and more. I got my letter in the mail just before Halloween began. The response?No.Just plain and simple, no. Unless I have tumors or cancer of some sort of abnormality that cannot be altered with medicine, basically...they wont touch it. They gave the option of Estrogen treatment which might do I have no idea what to help, which sounds honestly stupid to begin with. In honesty, I'd rather off myself than take estrogen.Wtf is the point in even trying....Every time I turn around, I get shot down and stomped on. I cant keep taking this stress and dealing with being lifted up only so they can drop me from a higher height.Maybe I should just go back to being Kristy and make everyone else happy...Life would be easier I guess. Not better, or happier, certainly not any more comfortable. But it seems like that's the only thing I'm allowed to do......So tired of having my heart broke.... Tired of my family hating me. Tired of the drama where I live for being who I am. Getting a lecture for a haircut. Or them trying to convince me to wear feminine things....Figures, I was just starting to be happy too. First time I've been properly gendered on the first try with a stranger, earlier in the day with my neighbor. "Hi, who are you?" she asked. "Nice to meet you, I'm Ren" I reply. And without hesitation, she asked my neighbor (mama)'s mother "Is this your grandson?". I grinned and nodded a little "Something like that. Technically Anne Marie is my neighbor but I consider her my Mama". Grandson......yeah, I kinda like that.But then......then this happens....I'm just....So done. I posted this on a transregulars Facebook group I'm in (love these guys, super supportive and most are my age) So, recent events have prompted me to start sharing this around again....As some of you have seen already, my insurance has turned me down in my request for a top surgery. I have since talked to my doctor and surgeon, and they said that an appeal will not get far because they will simply give me the same reasons for the first rejection since nothing has changed. If two pages of agonizing symptoms didnt change their minds in the first place, it wont in a second try. Besides that fact, my insurance is cutting out in Janurary due to company changes in government, so an appeal would take too long before it would be too late. Unless I find other means of assistance with this, I'll have to pay out of pocket. The surgeon has been wonderfully helpful and understanding, but he cannot change how the fees work and cannot offer a payment plan for understandable reasons. Nevertheless, I need to somehow come up with the funds to pay for it myself. Even if you guys cannot spare a few (which I totally understand, we're all struggling and money is tight as it is.) Please feel free to pass this around. I HATE doing this and I feel like I'm begging, but in a way I guess I'm not too far from the willingness of begging on my knees. The pain I'm dealing with is beyond what I can express. My ribs are shifting, my already-damaged back is getting worse from the weight, my shoulder is being offset, I cannot sleep at night because theyre limiting my breathing and hurting my back in every position, and even binding is becoming something I dread for its ineffectiveness and unbarable agony. I'm running out of options....I'm not sure what else to do.... -War https://www.gofundme.com/givewarrenahand We'll see if it goes anywhere......Halloween post in next blog. Seemingly slipping again, Warren
  12. I was super excited for this time of year at one point, but now I'm realizing more and more that I'm dreading it deep down inside. Nothing I recieve will be for 'Ren' or 'Warren', but all for 'Kristy'. It hurts and it makes me want to avoid christmas altogether. I've been fighting constantly with my mother just to get visitation with my lil sibling Kai for christmas, as was promised. It has turned into chaos to get her to let her come over, and to be honest shes pissing me off. Finally, after Kai crying and basically begging my mom to let them come over, it's been settled and I'm picking Kai up on friday the 11th. I have plans for christmas with her but do not want to say here on the off chance that my mother might have access, though I have no freaking clue how she would. But she's evil and manipulative so I wouldnt doubt it if she did. Just to 'keep tabs' on me. Yes, I'm slightly paranoid right now. Otherwise, work has been great and whatnot. I have 90% of my xmas shopping done and (shockingly) wrapped which is nice. My xmas cards are 80% done aside from mailing them out or handing them out as most dont need to be put in the mail. Which is kind of nice. And I'm still not entirely pleased with the extra blog on my tgg account (alex ) but I guess I should just let it go, since he didnt really have anywhere else to post and isnt very tech savvy. It still seems really really weird to consider myself one of multiple. Just months ago, he were simply a figment of my imagination. A constant and obnoxious voice in the back of my head that I would argue with until it reduced me to frustrated tears. But he's certainly real...no matter how I wish it wasnt true, and I could just be some normal transgender dope. But I guess it could be worse....some people with MPD have destructive alts or child or "littles" alts. Thankfully, as far as I know, its just Alex and he's both mature and non-destructive. Though I wasnt pleased to wake up from a hangover Thanks a lot. >:( I'm still trying to process the whole thing....I half wonder sometimes if its just a secret side of myself attempting for attention but if it was, then why do we have full conversations and talk back and forth constantly when I'm at work, where no one else is around? If it was for attention, then who would I be doing it for if we're alone? We.....such a weird feeling to say 'we' instead of 'me'. But somehow, it feels more suiting. I just sucks that I have to keep quiet about it around everyone offline. Granted, my boyfriend knows but from what I told him, he assumes that is just a switch of personality, not a switch of person. He sees it as my mind blocking out something and forcing an emotion instead, kind of like being bipolar. He's never met Alex. Not officially. Alex is very very good at surpressing his accent and emotions enough and pretend to be me that no one notices. Aside from downing a drink that I normally would never be able to finish. >.> Again, thanks for that.... Basically life is really confusing right now. I'm not sure what is me and what is him or what is imagination and just...It's hard when I do not have a full validation that it's real or not. I've considered seeing a therapist but there arent any in my area who will take my insurance. I cant afford another bill Thankfully we've met another person who has MPD (a MUCH bigger system than alex and I. They have over 12 alts 0.0 holy sh--) and it's nice because it gives him someone to talk to that I trust him doing that with. And it gives me someone to ask advice from. Right now, I still am very very very VERY hesitant on talking to anyone offline about this. Only you guys and a few who have paid attention in my transregulars group on FB actually know about him. I can probably count them all on one hand (aside from you guys on TGGuide). Still is very weird to me...... As a sidenote, I told him he could pick my next haircut. And he hasnt let me forget >.< So, pics upcoming when I get it cut next week. Wish me luck.... -Ren P.S. PROJECTS: Front Lawn: (no snow yet, poo!) CREAM CHEESE/CHOCOLATE CHIP FILLED MONKEY BREAD (IN EACH BITE) XMAS SNOWMEN I MADE FOR KAIRI & MACKENZIE (NIECES) AND JORDAN (BABY BROTHER)
  13. I never thought I would be here...at this impass of live. That moment when the fairy tales seem to take life and not in their usual good manner. The moment when a step-parent becomes the wicked witch or that menacing warlock. I never thought I'd be a part of it... Joey is his name. On first impression, I knew I didnt like him. His eyes told of selfishness and laziness. His posture spoke of sexism and over-tried alpha tendancies. His breath rank of an unrecognizable stench that turned my stomach, and his lack of manners towards the opposite sex was appaulling. He's a pig...but even pigs are better suited. The first moment I laid eyes on him, I had driven into the driveway to visit my family. I'd missed the wedding, so this was the first in which we'd laid eyes on eachother. I was not greeted, and I was not acknowledged. He simply looked up at my vehicle, seemed to sigh with annoyance, and wandered off to whatever he was doing. A simple 'hows it goin?' and 'not too bad' was exchanged as I approached the house, and that was it. He followed me in like an executioner to his post. It were not until my mother introduced us that he actually seemed to look at me. None too pleasantly, might I add. I was introduced as her daughter, her Kristy....I corrected that I were her son, Warren, and attempted to shake his hand. I got a hug instead, and it were not willing. I were not permitted a handshake it seemed. When I voiced that hugging strangers made me uncomfortable, he said 'you'll have to get used to it. I married your mother'. His eyes is what told his story. The eyes are often called the windows to the soul and he does not have a glamorous or spectacular soul by any means. In fact, I would hardly even shutter if the dear Hannibal Lector happened upon him and asked to dine on his overbloated, beer infested cadaver. I would, I do believe, incline to his request and simply wave in acceptance while I watch him carry him away. He's not a bad man, perhaps. Just a bad egg... He brings out a side of me that I have kept submerged for years. The Dominance side of me that sometimes concerns me and terrifies my soul, but I were often informed that it were another personality of myself. A more formal, gruesome side of my personality. I often thought of him as perhaps an imaginary friend, taunting me when I were too weak to stand up for myself. His name changed now and again...First it was Ben. Then Alex. Then one instance, he even called himself Dorian. I'm not sure what he calls himself now, but I can feel him reaching the surface once more. This....Joey....brings him back from the darkness in which he once slumbered. Even now, as I'm typing, I can feel his influence. Even in the way I write things, I feel that there is a shift in personality. A sinister switch...It began long ago, as most stories do, with my childhood. The childhood in which blood and gore were of no stranger to me. Slaughtering animals and lifestock for food, a odd fascination with their pieces being seperated so that we may dine on their once-lively muscle tissue. My...'brother', I guess you could call him, evolved through the years. Becoming more aware, more violent, but more able to mask himself in my own personality. "Influence, my dear.....the whole world runs upon influence. It is the only way that the good may triumph whilest the bad secretly are the marionettes to the puppets. You, dear boy, will thrive off my influence. I'll guide and protect you. And when the time comes, you will take the bench, and I shall orchestrate." I remember the words perfectly. At the time I thought it were simply my imagination running wild. But in the years to follow, I've learned that it were actually he himself. My brother..my other soul..the drum in my ears when things got too chaotic. The force behind my fists and the growl within my screams. Joey....that aweful lump of a man...he has brought my brother the life that he had once had in my teenage years, while catering to my vampiric Dom side by night. In secret, fleeing to the only family who accepted me. A clan of outcasts, vampire enthusiastics. I had quickly become one of them. I became a Dom as easily as one would crack an egg. Maybe a few pieces fell when the shell broke free, but the yolk took over these pieces as if they were nothing. Moving them out of the way as it pleased. I felt free...HE felt free. But I left the coven and decided to 'grow up' when mother moved us away. He has been silent since, perhaps worn out over his profound freedom. But this horrible....stepfather of mine...has brought him back. I almost worry about his intentions. He dislikes me. That much is clear. Joey, that is. Alex, as I will call him until he reveals his true name, adores me. We're one, afterall. But Joey....dear pathetic Joey...he makes my stomach cramp with disgust. He annoys me with his very presence. He treats my siblings like butlers or cattle, pushing them around and bending them to do his will but with no more of a reward than the common dog. Perhaps a scrap of affection, maybe he will throw old bones to them, but in the end--to him, theyre still just dogs. His real prize is my mother, who I fear is growing more and more sour with every passing day of their newfound marriage. It sickens me...I never had a good childhood, that much is clear as day. But watching my siblings relive some of the horrors that I learned to push through makes me furious. He treats them like dust, glaring at them until the day he can wipe them away. Joey did not marry my family, he married my mother. And only my mother. He's just waiting for the day when he can push his influence into my poor, naive little autistic brother's head to gain him over to his side. To mold him into himself, as no man has ever held the bond of fatherhood over him as he now can. The rest will move out, he is sure. Or, by all means, he will push them out. And so far is succeeding. What drives me mad the most is my mother's blindness. Her own bitterness and sour disposition seems to surface with his presence as well, though she hardly notices. She's more cruel and unforgiving to my siblings as she had been before. She will boast on her facebook about her perfect family, and how wonderful everything is and how much her sweet children adore her new loving husband. But as I once heard someone say---The beautiful portrait that you display on your wall....it hides the most hideous stain in the wallpaper. I wish to be rid of him....My little brother, as he now wishes me to call him, is coming into his own. Not the autistic one, Jordan. But my---dare I say it----favorite sibling. Kai, my dear Kai...What I would give just to see his happiness...He's been so tormented in this world, and by family the most. He is like me, and perhaps that is why I adore him so much and wish for his happiness. It's a happiness I was rarely granted. At first I were jealous of the attention he recieved for being transgender. The affections he were granted that I were denied. The opportunities my mother has given him that I still am shunned for. But now I see it....my inner brother has reminded me of it several times when I become jealous. "Kai is living the life that you had always dreamt of. Though it may be cruel.....help them achieve it. Help them become the young man that you missed out on being. You get to flourish as a man, but they get to blossom as a boy. Help him, and perhaps you'll even discover yourself." There's a bittersweet truth in it. And as much as I fear any advice from Alex, I think he may be onto something. Parents mold their children to live the lives they always wanted. Perhaps, in a way, if the child is willing and as wanting as yourself---is it really so bad? Perhaps not, if the situation calls for it. But one thing is certain. Joey needs to go. -Warren.......and Alex. Note: Perhaps my therapist was right. Perhaps DID isnt so impossible of a diagnosis....but he's not a disease. I'm starting to enjoy his company.
  14. I have a mental dilemma that has been plaguing my mind a little bit. Okay, a lot. It's sort of frustrating. It may be wrong of me and it may be slightly weird, but first of all, I'm Pansexual. No surprise there, I know. But if I can have a favorite 'type' of relationship, it would be guyXguy relationships. It's so cute! Something about it just really comforts me and its something I've always wanted, being that I'm, you know, Transmale. Some people associate me being Transgender with simply my want for a yaoi or gay relationship, but that's hardly the problem. Those people seriously need to research what transgender means >..> I'm not sure why, but something about two guys in love really just hits a string in my heart and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy I always wanted to feel what it was like to be in that situation and to be happy. It's all I thought about. And finding a boyfriend was no big deal for me because, at the time, I was presenting as female. The funny part was, as a woman, I never felt attractive. I never felt pretty or anything of the sort, and I disbelieved everyone who claimed that I was a beautiful girl. But now that I can be me, a man, and have full confidence in the fact that I'm not a bad looking guy either I'll admit, I kind of like me. Male me is sort of sexy sometimes.....Never said that before about myself, but now I feel like I can. Even more so if I ever get rid of these disgusting bulges on my chest. But looking back at old pictures of myself, I can now look at them and finally realize.....I was pretty. I was really pretty, actually. I mean, if I'd met someone who looked the way I did back then, shy and adorable yet really mysteriously attractive--I would have asked her out. Which sort of confuses me too because no one ever did lol But I can say now-----I see it now. I see what they were all complimenting....I was pretty. But I like me for me now lol so we're good. So now that I'm finally presenting male, part of my brain is like YES! FINALLY! I CAN HAVE A REAL GAY RELATIONSHIP! But on the other hand....my boyfriend doesnt see us as a gay couple. He refuses to, I think, because he does not like being considered gay because he knows whats truely in my jeans. Which saddens me a little....I know I cant blame him for it though. He will always see me as the girl he started dating 5 years ago, who slowly came into her own and became Warren. He cannot be blamed....he's always known me as a girl. That and before we started to date, he was very homophobic. I blame his mother, who is even more so. You cannot blame the student for how the teacher taught. But in our relationship, I rarely get that fuzzy feeling I got when watching gay couples out and about doing things like shopping or talking or cuddling. It's a different kind of comfortable, but not the same because----I dont know. Maybe it's my chest that ruins the thought. Or maybe it's his resistance? Maybe its just the knowledge that I'm not a 'real man'. It sort of bugs me sometimes....He wants to read some of my books but in a lot of the books that involve romance, it's a gay couple. So I'm nervous on letting him even peek at them because I fear his rejection and that typical curled nose expression he gives when approached with the topic of homosexuality. I dont know, just wanted to get my thoughts out a little bit. Gonna go back to my Sims game and have my total 'dawwwwwww' moments in my little dreamworlds. Mostly I just like building houses 0.o Your ever-confusing Friend, War BTW: Old pics of me
  15. So after some prompting from the boyfriend (Really wasnt in the mood due to the news in the previous blog) I decided to get off my butt and dress up for halloween. I had to work this halloween which is fine because I love to see all the costumes and knew it would cheer me up somehow. He let me use him as my first victim before getting myself ready. Here's the Results: Justin as a skeleton thingie (first time Ive ever face painted someone) And me, A zombie Police officer, intended in reference to Walking Dead style. Though someone accused me of making a joke for Police Brutality, in which case I was wishing to demonstrate Police Brutality on his dumbass. Zombie Ren So, yeah. Halloween. Plus I think I got flirted with. The (obviously gay) gas station attendant that I see all the time (its where I have to refuel the company Jeep) complimented me on my costume and even did a whole lean-back-smile-and-nod with a "mmmmmhmmmm, damn" comment. Said it was the best costume he'd seen all night and gave me pieces of his personal stash of candy 0.o Well, okay lol thank you? Anyways, yeah. If it's not bloody, its not fun. Warren
  16. So, after three weeks of healing, I went back for another session of what I thought would be torture. It turned out to be torture/torment/agony x10. Oh my lard I hurt soooooo soo bad, I went into shock twice and almost passed out a few times. It was probably the worst pain I'd ever felt, surpassing my several bones I've broken and even when I sliced open my palm on a hubcap. The guy (Tim) gave me two options. 1)suck it up, grin and bare it and let him finish it 100% and he'll try to be quick and save me some pain. 2) puss out and do half, come back in another 3 weeks, and pay another 300$ for the session. I dont have another 300$ so I took a pain pill and told him to just do it. By the end of it, I was shaking from head to toe, almost throwing up, dizzy and in such agony that I felt my throat closing up from wanting to cry. Me being a manly man (lol) I refused myself the tears and just dealt with it. Even him touching the surface to wipe it clean of loose ink made me flinch away and cringe, and at some points I would have my opposite shoulder pressed against the wall as if trying to escape while he was working, because I just could not stay leaned towards him anymore. My body was begging for him to stop, and that little voice in my head went 'no, please stop! stop it, I cant take any more!' every time he leaned down to start tattooing. Anyway, the pictures: (better ones soon. These ones suck because it's slimy with ointment, blood, oozing ink and swollen to hell) In the end----totally worth the pain. As soon as he was done, I felt so much better and proud of the work that I forgot the pain. Sort of like childbirth I suppose. After the pain is gone and you hold your child, you forget that you're torn up and bleeding. (so glad that children are not for me lol) Tattoo Aside, I had other situations. Firstly, I saw my family before going to the tattoo shop. My mother has decided to marry a guy I never met (cant remember if I told you guys that. She dated him in highschool until my grandmother slept with him and broke them up, and they just got back together then 3 weeks later got married.) so I figured it'd be good to make an appearance since I didnt go to the wedding. (faked that I had to work. I really wanted no part of it.) Any my impressions of my new 'stepfather'? He's a douche. I cant stand him, he's so full of himself and makes my younger siblings work and clean house and cook meals while they dont do shit. I only wanted a handshake, he made me hug him. >:( Dont like. Aside from all that and being misgendered and deadnamed by my 19 yr old brother the whole time (because he's a dick and I sort of expected it from him), my mother (who I thought had turned a new leaf) continued to do the same thing. She not once said my chosen name. And when someone stopped by and she was talking to them from their truck, she pointed at me and said "yeah that's my daughter'. F*** my life....Seriously left in a horrid mood. So much for my family changing for the better...... Here's the f***ed up part. At the tattoo shop, I couldnt wear my binder and t-shirt because of where he was doing the tattoo. So I'm sitting there in my bra and undershirt, boobs very noticable and unavoidable. Yet NOT ONCE did Tim misgender me. Well, okay, one time. But it doesnt count because he IMMEDIATLY corrected himself and apologized. He's so amazing and always has been with me, and has another FTM friend so he's not trans-retarded and treats me with the utmost respect. Here's the other part. One of his friends came in, who doesnt know me. He walked in as we were talking about my trans issues. One of the topics in the subject came up about showering. Tim mentioned that I must get annoyed in the shower due to my feminine parts, but I admited that I not only get annoyed, I'm disgusted, furious, sick to my stomach---I dont even look down. I avoid all visuals of my chest as possible. His friend caught on to how much my transgender issues hurt me, and Tim went quiet because he felt really bad. And then a miracle happened. His buddy started to talk between the two of us, totally casual and friendly and whatnot (though I caught him staring at my boobs XD I cant complain, they ARE kinda huge) and he only misgendered me one time, and like Tim did, he quickly corrected himself immediatly once he realized he did it. NO PROBLEMS. NO QUESTIONS ASKED, NO JUDGEMENT, NO CONFUSION. Just point blank "This is warren, HE is getting a tat done" then "oh, cool, nice to meet you dude. HIS tat looks awesome". WHY THE HELL CAN STRANGERS GET IT, BUT MY FAMILY CANT?! I understand that theyve known me longer and its hard to get out of habits, but THEYRE NOT EVEN TRYING. This total stranger who I met for a mass of 5 minutes had MORE RESPECT for me than my family, and he connected to the pain I had with the transgender issues more than my own family. Like they literally dont give a shit how bad it makes me feel, or the depression I deal with from it. I seriously dont know what to do.... ON ANOTHER, HAPPIER NOTE: My doctor is writing me a 'letter of nessesity' to give to my surgeon who will send it to insurance, and then I'll find out if they'll approve my top surgery. They agreed that both surgeon and doctor would LEAVE OUT the transgender part, and place it down as simply a 'medically beneficial breast reduction', noting my daily pain, limits to daily life, rashes, bruising, sores, headaches, back pain, neck pain, shoulder pain, back popping, rib pain, etc. So maybe the insurance will look at it and go 'wow, ouch, this chick needs this done' instead of 'pffft, she thinks shes a dude. Rule this as cosmetic and deny." So.....here's hoping. Pray for me, wish me luck, light a candle, whatever it is you guys do. In a long healing process and sober from self harm for about 2 months, Warren
  17. WarrenG

    Friend Issues

    So, I'm kind of at a loss and need some advice or something, though I'm sure others here have way bigger issues than I do right now.I have a friend whom I have been friends with for just over a year. In the beginning, we were great friends and she helped me out a lot with my transition and acceptance and etc. But ever since my downward spiral, it's gotten.....weird.Originally, we'd planned that I would fly out to her state and hang out for a week (mind you, I'm on the east coast and shes all the way on the west). I admitted that I werent completely comfortable flying (due to anxiety and claustrophobia and never having flown before) so I'd probably have my boyfriend come with me. She expressed that she didnt like the idea, would feel like a third wheel, and I would not be allowed to stay at her house and would need to find my own transportation and hotel. Ouch. During this time, I hit a horrible depression and was deep deep into self harm and whatnot, and I just could not handle drama so I told her I needed to step away. At which point I had deactivated my facebook. THE NEXT DAY she's messaging almost all my friends to 'go check on me' and making them think that I had killed myself. WTF!? I woke up to 30 messages from frantic people thinking I was dead. Geez, thanks. That helps the stress level squint emoticon She's constantly reminding me that she's still planning for me to come out west, Or she will come to my state instead which I'm not comfortable with. Everyone I talk to about my issues with her say she sounds like a jealous girlfriend. Meanwhile she always complains that she misses 'the old you' (meaning texting every day, happy, jolly, fake-love and happiness 24/7 which was all an act to make her think i was fine) and that I dont seem to care about her things anymore. And let's be honest here, I'm SICK AND TIRED of CONSTANTLY hearing 'im fat. I'm ugly. No one wants me. No guy will ever date me. I'm stupid. I'm fugly'. And there are only so many times I can say "no you're not, dont say that" before I just dont fucking care to respond anymore. I know that's sort of asshole-ish of me but ffs....it gets really really old. Every single time we talk, to me, it feels like we're fighting. But she insists we're not fighting, we're 'talking'. >.> omfg......I make a post complaining about drama and that I was going to bed, and she sends a message going 'didnt realize I was causing the drama.....". BI***, DID I SAY YOUR NAME?! DID I TAG YOU IN IT!? NO! SUCK IT UP, ITS NOT ABOUT YOU. And when I mention that the constant self pity and whining and crap gets old and that's why I dont respond much anymore (because she gets pissy when I go quiet and so she leaves the convo) she then throws my depression-inflicted complaints back in my face. I cannot help but feel slightly depressed, stressed and aggrivated after ever convo we have. I just......I dont know what to do. I've tried to break it off but she goes bonkers and cries and tells everyone I hate her and goes into a depressive funk until her sister messages me and begs me to talk to her because she starts "crying every night". Idk wtf to do....she still calls me her brother and crap and idk how to confront the situation. On top of that--when I asked her "just to be clear...you only think of me as a brother right?" and she responds with "um........yes". Which to me doesnt sound convincing. Which she follows up with "Can I ask a question? Do you think I'd be good girlfriend material?" o.e like.....what? What in the what---I just--cant---process.....Halp...... I've been warned that she's a stalker in the making but I know she's not. She is not a stalker by any means, and is 100000% incapable of harming me or anyone, and I'm NOT worried about her ever being anything situational. Dont get me wrong, I love her. Love her like crazy as a sister, and I care about her. But I just cannot take the stress anymore....I dont know what to do. In the back of my mind I know that she is 100% straight and KNOWS that I'm female from the waist down, so I shouldnt worry about her having a hidden crush on me or something. But some days I really legit' wonder if that's true or not. I dont want to hurt her feelings, anymore than I already have. But it seems like I'm hurting her ever single time we talk. She does this "acting" thing where she will act out a non-existant part in a tv show. The 'character' has a name, background, etc. Which normally would be harmless. I mean, hell, I 'act' when I'm thinking up scenes for my books but it's only facial expressions, talking to myself in-character and whatnot. She's legit throwing herself around the livingroom as if in a fight scene and actually getting hurt doing it. She's messaged several times about having cut her foot on something or banged her arm or hit her head on something while "acting". Frankly I'm concerned, but she sees no harm in it. I want her to see a therapist and talk to someone but she refuses. I dont know what to do, guys.... Frustrated and At wit's end, Warren
  18. Good afternoon/morning/evening/Saturday? TGG friends, Yes, It's me again. No I havent died and no, nothing super dramatic has happened. I've just taken a lot of time to sort myself out and try and get my head straight. You'll be glad to know that I have been 'clean' or 'sober' of self harm for several weeks, and I am so far really loving my job. So far, I have not had a single day of dreading a workday aside from merely just being exhausted, getting used to 3rd shift. But it's getting easier. Speaking of, this'll be short since I'm on my way back to sleep. I've decided to cease communication (temporarily, I think.....) with a dear friend/sister of mine I met a year ago due to added stress and frustration. Seemed like every single time we talked, we fought. And I really just couldnt deal with it anymore. I've gotten a bit better with the silence and feel slightly better, though not 100% yet. But at least it's something. On another note, the cutting. I forced myself to stay away from it in attempts to keep that section of my bicep clean of open wounds...because I was going to cut myself off from it for good. How you might ask? Well, the pictures will explain. "We are not defined by how hard we fall" It took about four hours to do the outlining, and I go back in a few weeks to do the shadowing and detail work. My dear cousin and awesome tattoo artist Tim in Montpilier VT did everything freehand for me to make sure it were unique and custom, and I thank him greatly for it. It were insanely painful to deal with at times, especially around the top of the shoulder and back of the armpit area. But with something like this to look at every time I want to cut into that area, I know it'll stop me. Why would I destroy something I worked so hard for? Something I went through so much pain to accomplish? It's the theory anyway, and I'm staking a lot on that theory. Besides, the bf will strangle me if I cut up this tattoo. By the time it's done, it would have costed me about 800$ including tip. Out of my surgery funds I've saved myself. 800$ is not 10,000$, which is what I need for my surgery. So why not use it for something that might help me? Hurts to use my hard saved money that was reserved for my surgery, but I dont see myself getting it any time soon.....if at all. But....yeah. So now you all know what I've been up to. All my thoughts with you, Warren
  19. So, my therapist had me do a project. Well, ex-therapist. I quit her, but I never did the project. Decided to do it tonight. She wanted me to write about how I felt with my 'conditions.' Here ya go. These Things "Imagine a desert. No beginning and no ending. Nothing in sight but sand and an occasional breeze. It’s humid and agonizingly hot, every breeze that wanders through only seems to increase the heat. Every direction in which you wander only seems to send you in the same looping circles, though you cannot tell because there are no markers and no footprints. Nothing to occupy you while you wander aimlessly and afraid. You feel no thirst in this desert. No hunger in your belly. But instead of these things, you instead suffer such an overwhelming sense of failure that nothing seems worthwhile. Every step you take is agony. Your feet burn from the sand, yet you cannot bare to stand in one spot for too long, fearing you may scream from the pain. Yet it doesn’t matter, because every scream that escapes your lips is silent. Every wail and cry is unheard in this vast and seemingly empty desert of sand and dune. No one can hear your grief. No one can comfort your fear. Ghosts only occupy your mind, though they whisk away as nothing but sand with empty and concerned eyes. There seems to comfort from this burning hell, and nothing seems to comfort and relieve you. It is as if you’re burning apart from the inside out, turning hollow and dark. You think you see shadows of guests in your own personal hell, but alas, they only turn away and disappear into the dunes. Mirages, simply put there to make you hope before making you weep. There seems to be no escape, yet you’re not even sure how you got there to begin with. All you can do is wander, and wait, and hope that someone somewhere will rescue you. These things are Depression. Imagine that you are within a room. It is a tiny room, to be honest. This tiny room has only four walls of a bland grey, the floor covered in broken and cracked tiles of unidentified color. Should you know this color? Have you forgotten this color? The ceiling is low against you. So low that it actually forces you to remain laid down upon that floor, curled up in an uncomfortable position, struggling to find relief from this frustrating situation. No position seems to help, and every part of your body hurts from the attempts to find one. Not only can you find no comfort, but from places unknown, noise vibrates through these walls. These grey, oddly crowding walls. Are they shrinking? Have they gotten shorter? Perhaps you should have noticed this. Have you gone crazy? These noises make no sense. They jumble together like spilt scrabble pieces, making no sense but reaching you nevertheless. Screams inaudible. Nails upon chalk, a pounding like hundreds of hammers against your little walls. Wailing for unknown ailments, furious yelling as though angry creatures stalk for you. Should you remain quiet? Or are they here to help you? No, you remain quiet. Perhaps it is best. The noises never dull. They never quit, and they never quiet. Unyielding and demanding, these sounds pester and frighten you in your little box. You need something—anything—to lock out those taunting walls and frightening noises. Anything to make it stop, even if just for a moment to offer you repreave. Yet…you dare not move. You dare not breathe. They might hear you. They might tear apart your walls and discover you. Every scream seems to be your name. Every angry cuss feels as though it were directed at you. Every wail seems to be of your cause, filling you with despair. And among these things, the whispers can be heard. Are they mocking you? Perhaps. Are they rumors of your existence, spoken either kindly or of ill will? You’ll never know. Are they perhaps just comments of your agony, or broken and weak attributes? Can they see you in that box? Or perhaps they are nothing at all. Perhaps you’ve simply lost your mind. Is this all a game that you’re failing? Regardless, they persist. Should you listen? It hurts to hear their sounds. But what if it is something important? Maybe you should know these things. If only it were all silent, you could perhaps breathe. The tiny confinement limits your air, cutting away your ability to think clearly with all the noise and that agonizing sense of dry drowning. You want to escape. You want to flee as far and as fast as you can. But instead, you have to wait for someone to open your box and let you out. These things are Anxiety. Your day begins as it always does. You don’t remember when exactly you fell asleep the night before. Or what woke you up today, for that matter. Regardless, here you are. You stare at the ceiling in a sense of hopeless ambition, feeling as though you’re sinking. You almost hope you do, actually. To sink down so far that you will never have to come out. Yet, you do. You somehow insist on getting up, beginning to dress yourself. What will you wear? Will you conform to society’s demands, or will you do what makes you feel normal? Let us assume for a moment that society rules today. You wear what they demand, a sense of aching in your chest as you slip into the clothes that they deem appropriate. You feel ridiculous and hideous, yet you endure it. Perhaps you wander to the bathroom and paint on a face that is not yours? Wearing a mask with bold lettering stating “I’m fine”. Perhaps you will do something with your hair. You’re not entirely sure what to do with it, because everything you attempt seems odd and unfamiliar. As if you’re modeling yourself in someone else’s image. Someone you are not, yet….someone you are. They say you are. They insist you are. With a heavy sigh and a broken heart, you wander from your room. Will you work today? Will you go to school today? It all blends together regardless. It feels as though all eyes are on you. Every detail of yourself seems flawed and obvious, and everyone is whispering about it. You are desperate to hide, even if for a moment. This isn’t you….This isn’t who you are…but its only for today. Right….? No, let us instead chose that you decide to be yourself. You set aside those things, and you avoid that mask. It has been put away for now, and you can use your authentic smile and enjoy today. You dress as you wish, and do your hair as you please. Yes, this looks right. This looks pleasing for once. Is that a smile I see? Yes, I think it is, actually. Perhaps today will be fine Perhaps today you will enjoy being out of that bed. But wait…they’re still looking at you. Are they looking even more? I cannot tell, to be honest. But…but wait. Those things you don’t like. They’re hidden, aren’t they? Those things that you wish you could remove yourself, but know it will end you for certain. They cannot be seen can they? But it feels as though everyone sees them. Everyone seems to point, even if not physically. They whisper, they talk, then they giggle. Do they know this is really you? Or do they think this is a mask? Do you blend in, or do you stick out like some freakishly abnormal thumb? Perhaps you will be the mask again tomorrow. Perhaps it is safer. But wait…the mask hurts. But doesn’t this hurt? Nothing seems right. These things are Dysphoria. Today you are happy. Today you have had no cause of alarm, and you’ve found a rather enjoyable time either playing games or spending time with friends. Your smile is priceless, your joy unavoidable. It seems contagious, as if you have gotten the laughing virus and no one is immune to your illness. You find a smile on the faces of others enjoyable, and you thrive on these things. You giggle and you jump around, having a blast and perhaps even singing without shame. You dance as if your mother will be embarrassed, and you have no shame. But wait…what is this? Where did this darkness come from? Your smile disappears. Your chest aches and you can feel your heart sinking. As if it were a literal disease, your heart sinks into your stomach like the titanic and disappears. You look around, and everyone is still smiling. Why wont they stop smiling? All you can think is “stop smiling at me!”. You want it to stop, and its making you furious. What is this feeling? Where has it come from? Nothing had upset you that you can remember. You were so happy five minutes ago. What changed? People will ask you what they did wrong. You have no answer for them, yet somehow it is annoying that they ask. They will ask you ‘are you angry at me?’ and you will struggle to figure that out. Are you angry with them? But weren’t you just happy with them? Did they do something wrong to you, or have they done something that somehow impacted your emotion? You cant even put words to it. It is as if someone has taken your happy. They have taken that little spark in your eyes and put it in a box, and they’re holding it hostage. Perhaps it will come back. You want people to give it back to you, and you want them to understand that they did nothing wrong. But you wish they’d stop asking you what is wrong. You don’t know what is wrong, and it is frustrating to try and figure it out. But wait, what is this emotion now? Are these new things? These things are Bipolar. You have your desk, and it is your own. Your own design, your own order, your own creation. Things are just as you please, and nothing can damage that. You know how things are to be done, and how things will work, and these things make life pleasant. You enjoy your things and your desk, your creations and your order. Yes, your order. The patterns in which you place things, making them as your mind has decided ‘yes, this is right’. You will not understand this order, but you will obey this order. You may try to explain it to others around you, but this is a language that they do not understand. You walk away, pleased with this order. But wait, you come back. Someone has altered your design. They have changed your order. These things are not in their places. Your mind falters like a car out of control, screaming tires and smoke. No, no, no, no! This must be corrected! They have changed things! What has been changed? You cannot decide. No, no, this must not be. These things make your head ache, your heart beat rapidly, your hands sweat and your fingers shake. No, this must not be! You scramble to fix these things. People point and laugh. This is amusing to them. They will alter them later simply to watch you panic once more, though they hardly understand the pain your head feels at this moment. These things must not be so. Your order must persist. Your design must be as it was. Your stomach is in knots, as if this alter of design will cause you harm. As if this change of pace will bring forth a sense of dread unknown to man and misunderstood by all who witness it. Wait…yes…yes, this is better. This is your order. Yes, you have fixed this disaster. You have brought peace to this chaos. You’ve done it! You’ve brought back your order, your design, you have recreated the life in which they have destroyed. Yes, you can breathe now. You can breathe. You can relax. All is well, and all shall remain well. So long as the order is kept… These things are Over Compulsive Disorder. There are more of these things. Perhaps we will speak of these things later. These things have made me tired. Warren G." Also my Mom called me Ren. Kind of a big deal, but I'm still cautious about it. It's not like her to cooperate so well....
  20. WarrenG

    Family Drama

    So, my mother doesnt call me, and that is completely fine with me! I do not have contact with my older sister either. And when my younger sibling (Changed their name to Kai apparently which is fine with me. Theyre pretty sure theyre FTM as well but I'm respectful at the fact that they've decided not to make perminate choices on the matter until they are POSITIVE theyre transgender. I GREATLY respect them for that!!) has asked me if they can come down to hang out again at some point. I told them that I have no problem with that, but when I come to pick them up, I'll meet them at the end of the driveway. I want nothing to do with my mother. And I've decided that if my mother refuses to call me Warren OR Ren, I'll no longer call her Mom. I'll call her Alene, either she likes it or not. So today, there was a post on a friend's page about Trump. I was not aware she was friends with my older sister....until this happened. Me, feeling bad it was on my friends' post, Messaged her apologizing for what was said on her post. To my relief, she responded with "Its OK Amanda is the 1 to b apologizing. Well don't sweat it I'm home n can get to my computer she's about to get hers." Which was kinda nice I think. Warren UPDATE: She removed the Post, then Posted this:
  21. WarrenG

    "Stay Frosty"

    So I wanted to dye my hair and so something I've never done. I was curious what colors to do and etc, then I saw a message from a good friend you know who you are! But you said something that caught my attention. "Stay Frosty". I love jack frost!!!!!!!!! Even the old legends So blue it is!!! This required some bleaching which I've never done. But, here's how it went! Opinions welcome lol before: after bleach: after: Not sure how I feel about it yet lol If I'm still not 100% thrilled with it, I had planned ahead and bought my usual black dye to fix it at a later time. I think next time I'll just stick to my black hairdye, much less hassle and OMG THE STAINS IN MY BATHTUB!!! Took another 2 hrs of scrubbing to get internet privileges back..... Your bud, Warren
  22. WarrenG

    Brief Update

    Not much to update until my consultation aside from someone accusing me of having HIV for being trans and refusing to allow me to serve them a drink because they "werent sure of transgenderism is contagious as it seems to be spreading like HIV and filth". Yay me. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RK_jvDoBll0 my new video Warren Also, going to dye my hair. Not sure what color. Past colors in below photos: Open to suggestions
  23. Hey guys...I know, right? Been a long time...I havent felt like blogging lately. I even skipped out on my youtube videos because I felt like...I dont know. Like they're not going anywhere. Not doing any good I guess? I'm at a loss I'm back into that feeling like....nothing I do, does any good. All my waiting for surgery and help is wasted. All my optimism and hoping is falsified. I'm really....really at a loss you guys. I broke my cut-free streak again. I couldnt help it...I've tried so long and so hard to stay away from the blades but it just...got to me. Again. Dont get me wrong, I love my new job! I do, I really really do! But being misgendered all the time...it hurts. Probably more than it should, but it hurts regardless. I feel like I'm doing nothing with my life. That I'm just sitting here wasting away. I dont enjoy doing anything anymore. My intentions with youtube and blogging was to help others thrive and 'be okay' but how the hell am I supposed to do that when I cant do it myself? When every attempt I make seems to just....disappoint? Not even disappoint other people but disappoint myself. I've started to avoid the FTM top-surgery group I'm in. It's just so....sooooooo so so SOOOO depressing to see all these people posting their post-op photos and how happy and proud they are...and I'm stuck where I am. I'm sitting here suffering, mentally and physically, in my female body. I can deal with not having bottom surgery. F***, I'd be okay if my bust size was like.....a B. Or even a C, maybe. Because I'd be able to hide them better. But this? A 44DDD? It's unbarable! The binding has started to really really take it's toll... And nothing I do seems to help. It makes me want to cry every time I squeeze into it again because it hurts. It hurts so bad and it limits my breathing so much, and my back feels like it's about to collapse every time I remove it because it's compressed the muscles and whatnot for so long during the day. Not even to mention the heat and sweating and unbarable dehydration I keep fighting because of wearing it! I just....I cant take it! It's driving me crazy... I have my consultation on the 1st of September. I'm so close but so very far...I've already told my boyfriend. "Justin...if they tell me no, and insurance wont touch it...you'll need to keep an eye on me. Because I cant promise that I'll take it well." And its the truth...I know I wont. I can promise that I wont. This is so amazingly frustrating and painful and mentally disabling that if they tell me no...if they say we wont pay for it, you cant have it done, you'll have to deal with it and keep binding...I dont know how much longer I will last. This has literally become a do or die situation. I just...I cant... I dont know what to do... Warren
  24. Recently I was invited to perform at a spoken word event for young black people in South Eastern CT. The title and theme of the event is : In My Skin. I was invited because though I am new to the Spoken word scene, I caught the eye of a fellow performer whom wanted to share my story. We'd performed two months ago at a school event and she enjoyed my piece as much as I enjoyed hers. The event is not for another month and I'm nervous about getting up in front of strangers to share either of the two pieces. the first is about being a mixed race kid raised in a white suburb and how that didn't matter to me until I learned how to be black. the second piece is about what it's like to be a gay black/white trans male and about the stereotypes I fall into.. I have a month to practice. The first piece aptly called "How to be Black." is radical if only for what it says.( My pride in being the best of both cultures, white and black.) The second named, 'In My Skin.' is about how being black doesn't really matter to other trans people, bu being trans matters to other black men. It's about catching the cold shoulder. It's about being gay and getting passed over for dates. it's not all negative. it's actually a little funny so far, and I wrote it just for the event. I'll share them when I'm done. Three more weeks until my Endo visit. August 18th can't get here soon enough.
  25. WarrenG

    Update on Life

    So I realized last night that I hadnt really updated you guys lately. I dont blog NEARLY as much as I used to, but hopefully I can bring it back up at some point So, so far I am LOVING my new job. The people here are SUPER supportive and understanding, and are well aware of me being transgender. They're totally cool with it, and even said that when it comes time for my surgery, as long as I give them a heads up before hand (which I totally would anyway) I can take the 2 weeks off to heal. My boss has been really cool about it and I love coming to work As for my youtube, I am still attempting to keep up with it lol I have my new one (probably the shortest vid I've ever done!) and another one coming up at some point in the week. My upload times are scattered now with my new job, since I usually dont get home until around 4am on tuesday so getting up early on wednesday to film and upload is near impossible. I'm so tired! Either way, I'm doing what I can with what I have. Unfortunately my camera on my computer is nearly impossible to use as it freezes and the framerate lags like no other, so I'm reduced to using my ipod to film. Which can be a pain sometimes and looks sooooo unprofessional but....whatever. Use what I got. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3Da5exjrQ8] In reference to the top surgery, I DID find a surgeon! The hospital I were originally supposed to go with continues to be stubborn in saying "one year of HRT" is their "policy" and they refuse to deviate from it. So I told them I'd take my business elsewhere. I found another guy who does the top surgeries, and have talked to two people who have also gone to him and said he was great. Only bad review I found about him was about a girl getting lip injections and she sounded whiny and demanding so I didnt take it to heart. He does not require HRT or a year's worth of Gender Therapy (which is great because I called to set up an appointment with one of the gender therapist. The list goes on until next year!!!). Originally my appointment were supposed to be for August 18th but they had to reschedule for September 1st because the surgery consultant is on vacation.Which is longer to wait but I'll just have to deal with it. So far it's looking like the insurance WILL cover the surgery since I am in pain and discomfort which disrupts my daily life, but until I see the surgeon and get all the info, I cannot be sure. Fingers crossed that they'll cover it!! The back pain has been horrible lately I'm now at a 44DDD and my binders hurt to wear, on top of the fact that they dont really seem to do much to hide my "issues" anymore....It's super depressing. While working bar I do get the occassional "mister" or "buddy" or "guy" and "he". But I still get the she, her, miss, etc....There's not much I can do about it. I did mention to my boss out of a joke that it's a pain because sometimes you just cannot correct them without seeming rude, and she patted me on the back and said to give it time. I'm just a super impatient person. Being back on my Zoloft has helped a little bit, but I'm thinking of increasing the dosage (Yes, my doc said I could. She said to finish this week on 25mg then go to my 50mg that I have stashed away from a previous dose). So we'll see how that goes. I have resisted self harm for about a month now, and although I've had nights when I certainly were ready to break that stride, I have so far stayed away from it. I'm hoping to keep staying cut-free, and keeping myself busy at work seems to help. It's nice because a lot of my job, I'm either super busy or on my own out in the woods, which helps. Seclusion sometimes helps the anxiety. Anyways, stay awesome! Warren
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