Blackangel

Religion is a major factor in this. Almost every religion on earth, all that have come and gone and all that are still here, have placed men above women. It is/was the men that matter, whereas women were sold to the highest bidder and the spoils of war. Women were often married off by their fathers in a bid to elevate the status of the family. She had no say in the matter. Let's not forget a dowry. The groom-to-be had to pay the father for the girl. I have looked for a valid reason to satisfy my own curiosity, but every path I have gone down has led straight back to religion. Personally I think religion is a disease that people refuse to move away from. Have your beliefs, worship your god, but try to stay away from claiming any titles unless it is culturally significant. Jews are one example. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- @ScottishDeeDee "I may seek approval and acceptance by women, but I know that while I want that, I would settle for polite tolerance by men." Why would you do that to yourself? You should never settle to make someone else happy. Screw them. Your mission in life is not to make them happy. It is to make you happy. It is to protect your children and make sure they grow up happy and healthy. We both know men are not that special. Stupid, willfully ignorant, and a-holes, YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT. But that doesn't mean you have to bow to their will. It's those reasons and many more that make me hate men. That may sound weird coming from a transgender woman who was AMAB. But it may also make sense to some. What I'm trying to say, is that if you have to settle in any situation, then the person isn't worthy of you. Kick them to the curb, and only associate with those who are worthy to be in your presence. I know that sounds narcissistic, but it's not meant that way. The only time I can see settling is at work or in the military, where you have those with a higher position of power or a higher rank. Then you have no real choice.

I don’t know what the purpose of this post is. Maybe none. I don’t know who, what, or where I am anymore. I look in the mirror for help, but there is no one looking back at me. I don’t know how to make sense of what’s going through my head nonstop. A little further. Stop. Turn around. Stop. Full steam ahead. Stop. Where the hell do I go if none of those directions are fulfilling? Who am I? I wish by the Gods I could answer that. Am I the same loser I always was from my first memory until this very moment? Am I something more? Am I something less? Does it matter? Do I matter? Would anyone even understand if I tried telling them? What am I? Am I still a joke? A punching bag? The world’s whipping child? A whiny brat who can’t make up their own pathetic mind? Does this inane rambling matter to anyone, myself included? By the very definition of “inane”, the answer is a solid NO. So apparently there is no point. I wish I could think of a replacement that would be an improvement over me. But even with my value circling the drain, it’s hard to find someone who is masochistic enough to be willing to step into my shoes. ”All that I loved, I loved alone.” - Edgar Allen Poe

When it comes to race, my maternal grandfather had a "kill em all" attitude. He was born in 1923 and was the most harsh racist I have ever seen. Picture that on an impressionable child. When i started school at 4, I had never heard the word "black" once in my life. It was as if it was a word from a language that no one in my family spoke. This was when kindergarten was still half days for the kids. The teacher was teaching us about colors one day. She would hold up a crayon, and ask a random student to name the color. When she got to me she held up a black crayon and asked me to identify the color. I said it was N-word. She was appalled. She grabbed me by the collar and took me straight to the principals office. By this time I was crying, because I didn't know why I was in trouble. Something important to note, is that the principal was a black woman. I sat there for a few minutes crying while the teacher went back to class to do some damage control. When the principal called me in I was terrified. She sat me down and asked me if I knew how much trouble I was in and why I would talk like that.This is where I got confused. She asked me why I would call a crayon a N-word. This confused me even more. She could see the confusion. She started asking me about my home life, and how I knew that word. I explained to her how I knew the word. I told her the truth. That everything I saw that was black had that word attached to it in some way. She realized that I had been taught wrong and that it wasn't entirely my fault. She then started explaining to me what it actually meant and how bad a word it was. I started crying even harder at that point because I thought I was in so much trouble. She was kind and understanding though. She came around the desk, gave me a tissue, and told me I wasn't in any trouble. That was the first time I heard the word black, instead of the other word. When hate is the first lesson of the day, and for 18 years, it becomes instinct. There's a song by a rapper on YouTube that makes a LOT of good points. I can't post it here, because it's extremely vulgar. But I think a lot of people should see it. If anyone wants to, PM me and I'll give you the link.

I've given a bit of insight in other blog entries to my upbringing. Well being taught racism from the moment I was born was a large part of it. Specifically towards black people. You all know the words that were common. Until a couple months ago, those words came out of my mouth more casually than "Hello" comes out of yours. I'm not even close to exaggerating. I learned it for 18 years. I unsuccessfully fought it for the next 20. Then something happened. I collect skulls. This will be relevant in a moment. I have an ad on Craigslist looking for skulls to buy or trade for. I've gotten a few good ones that way. Well one day I got a reply to that ad. A woman, I'll call her Lauren (not her real name) was just saying that she thought it was neat that I collect, and that she has always liked skulls too. We got to talking back and forth a lot. Gossip mostly. She is mixed race. Her father is white and her mother is black. I don't know how she did it, but Lauren broke that racism. I can only guess that the Great Goddess sent her for that very purpose. Within a couple weeks of talking to her through text, I was over it. I even put Black Lives Matter on the back of my car, and ordered a few car window flags for the movement. Previously I would have added the word "don't" to that. Adrianne is still shocked, and so am I. Neither of us can figure out how she did it, but we're both over the moon that someone was finally able to pull my head out of my ass and end it. We're still great friends. We hit it off almost instantly. We text daily, and if the weather was willing to cooperate, I would be heading over to her place right now, this very moment. Lauren was a savior that brought me a chance at redemption. She ended the hate one racist felt. I just wish every racist could meet their own Lauren. I was lucky. Not all are.

All I really know at this point is that the man downstairs has the red carpet rolled out for me, so to speak.

@ScottishDeeDee Your opinion matters more than you know. If I was a goddess, I would change the past. I would grant people a do-over for their most serious transgressions. But that's not possible, as I'm not a goddess, and none of the Gods will allow me to do that. I don't know where to go when I think of this. Do I go up? Do I go down? Do I go left? Do I go right? Is it black? Is it white? Is it gray? Is it some other color of the rainbow? At the time of the incident, I was mixed with a million different feelings. Something told me to stop. That I was going to kill him. Something else told me to keep going until I killed him. That that was what a "real man" does with f**s. Something asked me why I was doing it when I was no different from him. It reminded me that I was bi. I didn't know what transgender was at the time, but it reminded me that I was supposed to have been a girl. And something reminded me that I was as useless as nipples on a bull. Something inside me hoped that someone bigger and stronger than me would come up on the scene, see what was going on, save him, and beat my ass. I don't know what I could do as a penance. Mainly because I don't know if there is anything that would in any way matter in comparison. I hate myself, and always will. But that's my cross to bear, as they say. If anyone believes in prayer, then please send him your prayers. I don't know his name, only his face, so I can't tell you who to send them to by name. All I can call him is Him.

I would never be able to do that. I couldn't go in front of people and tell them what I did. I don't have the courage to do that. I think a lot of the reason is the shame. The shame may be exactly the reason to do it, but I still don't think I could. Whether it was at a school, religious institute (church, synagogue, mosque, etc.) or conference of some sort, I just don't think I could put myself out there. I can think of 3 things it would take to get me to do it. And that's being generous. 1) An act of god. 2) A cattle prod 3) A hell of a lot of encouragement and support. I would probably need a bucket with me so that I would have somewhere to throw up while telling the story. Gods forgive me, when I think of this, I just want to die.

I don't think I am the one that needs to forgive anything. I am the one that needs to ask for forgiveness. I wouldn't be able to forgive him if the tables were turned. He has every right to hate me. If he wishes me anything other than ill will, I would be beyond shocked. I truly believe that I deserve the same beating, for the same reason, that I did to him. I'm not eagerly looking for it, and I wouldn't enjoy it. But you don't always enjoy what you get. And this is something he never for any reason whatsoever should have gotten. Say what you want, but I will never be able to stop hating myself for having done this. I was a stupid, cruel, hateful piece of trash. And part of it was because I refused to admit who and what I am. When I think about that night, not only do I start crying, but I want to throw up. I have thought many times, that if I thought I could take the pain, I would rip out my own eye in a small bit of penance. It's the least I could do. Maybe, having to live with the knowledge of what I did until the day I die, (whether that be tomorrow or 50 years from now) is my punishment.

I have found a site to volunteer with. It's as a chatroom monitor for LGBTQ teens. If I'm accepted, training should start soon. It still doesn't make up for what I've done, but at least it's doing something good instead of something harmful.

I just want to ask everyone not to hate me after reading this. I know any respect I have gotten will be gone, and I will lose friends, but the time has come for me to get this off my chest. When I was a kid, I was taught hate. I was taught that if someone wasn't a straight, white, cis, Christian, that they were to be hated and treated cruelly. Since that was all I knew from the cradle, that's what I believed. I was dealing with a lot of feelings that I refused to acknowledge. I'm bisexual and trans. If I had come out back then, it would have gotten me killed. If I wanted to live I had to keep those thoughts to myself and ignore them. So I was closeted for a very long time. And the self loathing was almost to nuclear levels. Here's where I'll lose friends. I was out one night and committed a hate crime. It was a gay bashing. I came across a gay man. I attacked him simply for being gay. I beat him and almost killed him. We didn't know each other, so he couldn't really give a description of who did it. As such I never faced any criminal charges. But I did, and still do have a lifetime of shame, and hating myself for what I did to him. I'm not going to offer a reason or excuse for what I did, because there is none. There is no excuse for doing something like that. And there is no reason for it. I only mentioned being taught the hate, to try to give a look into just how screwed up I was. And I still am. I don't like looking myself in the mirror, simply because I remember what I did. In all honesty, I deserve someone doing the same to me, for the same reason. Put me in his shoes, so to speak. I did run into him at the store a number of years later. It turned out he had to have an eye removed due to my worthlessness. He was scared at first when he saw me, but I reassured him he was in no danger. I told him I only wanted to apologize for what I did. I knew that no words could make up for what I did to him, but wanted him to know how much I regret what I had done. He just looked at me for a few seconds. Then he said he appreciated the apology, but still wasn't at a place where he could accept it or forgive me. I told him that I doubted he ever would reach that place. I gave him my name, address, phone number, and email. I told him that if he ever wanted to contact me for any reason that I would always answer. And that if he decided he wanted to press charges, that I wouldn't fight it. I would plead guilty and take the punishment I deserved. He said he appreciated that, but not to hold my breath. We walked away from each other at that point. I know trying to apologize was a step in the right direction, but I didn't feel any better. I still felt like the scum of the earth. I know for doing what I did, I am and always will be absolutely despicable. This isn't a "woe is me" post. I don't deserve any sympathy or pity. Give that to him. I just needed to get that off my chest. Some of you will be asking, why didn't I just turn myself in? I did talk to a cop about that. His exact words will forever be etched into my mind. He said: "So what? You beat a f**. F him." Prejudice plays a role in the legal system on whether or not the cops do anything, apparently. But that is the end of this post. If that gets me expelled from this site, I understand. I hope it won't, but I won't be surprised if it does. And to the friends that I have lost, and all the respect that I have lost, I understand that too. Maybe, if I'm not banned, someday I can earn your friendship back. Even if there's an asterisk by it.

I speak my mind. I always have. That has upset a lot of people too. I don't sugarcoat or beat around the bush. I hate it when people do that. I don't want people to do that with me, so why would I do it with them. I don't care if it's going to hurt my feelings. The only way I can grow and improve is with the unaltered truth. If I try to sing a song, and sound like I'm going through a garbage disposal ass first, then for the love of the Gods, tell me. But if you want me to sugarcoat something, it's not gonna happen. I don't care if I hurt your feelings. If you ask me if those jeans make you look fat, and they do, then I'll tell you that Yes, they make you look fat. If you don't want the unapologetic truth, then I'm probably the wrong one to come to. It doesn't matter who it is. I'll tell the queen what I think of her without tact. The good, the bad, and the ugly. If that gets me in the tower, then so be it. But being that I'm American, it would most likely get me deported and banned from the country. But hey, as long as I got to see a few sites, and visit my homeland (heritage wise), I would be fine with that. There's plenty of other places in the world to visit, and millions of other things to see. So what do you do when you want someone to "let you down easy" as they say? You ask your mother. If your mother is no longer in the picture, you ask a wall. What do you do when you want someone to give it to you straight, no matter how that will affect you and the relationship between you? You can come to me if you're brave enough. Like I said, there will be no tact. I know here at this forum, I have to watch my language. And I respect that. The third Satanic rule of the earth says When in another's lair, show him respect or else do not go there. Being that I do not own this website and forum, that constitutes me being in someone else's lair. Hence, their rules. If I don't like their rules then I can go elsewhere. They're not going to change anything for me, or make any special exemptions for me. Why the in the name of the Gods would they? I'm not anyone special. The thing people don't like about me is, as already stated, that I don't care if I hurt your feelings. If you ask me a question, you get an honest answer. If you ask me an asinine question, then you will get an asinine answer. A woman got in my face at Walmart one day. It was apparent that she was anti-trans. She finally asked me why I would wear women's clothing. I was done with her at that point. I looked at her and very loudly said "Because my F-ing klan hood is dirty!" I don't have a klan hood as I'm not an inbred racist. But she wanted to act like an idiot, so I treated her like one. There were other events in that whole situation, but nothing that I think I can get into here, as I'm a violent person. If anyone is curious PM me, and I'll send you my Reddit post. So do I care, that I may insult you with honesty? Not one damn bit. You asked for honesty, you get honesty. If you don't want honesty, DON'T INVOLVE ME.

I agree as well. But I know Chump is going to try to overturn it, and reinstate discrimination laws, with his "mine is bigger" attitude. Since he's the current sitting president. But that's why we have a system of checks and balances. So no one part of government has absolute control. One single part of government having absolute control is called communism and/or dictatorship. While we currently have a dictator, we'll be free in November.

God trying to educate a bigot is like pushing a Cadillac through a straw. "I do not want her to be in this world." So you would prefer her dead? So she doesn't have to live in a world of people who are, as you put it "deluded", as we are? That's more than selfish. It says that as long as you get what you want, then nothing and no one else matters. If he matters so little to you, then you should just leave, and never return. Find another job in another country. You think being transgender is a choice? Then by that logic you chose to be cis. You chose to be straight. Me personally, I chose to wear a white shirt. I chose to collect various items. I chose to let my hair grow long. Did you choose to have feet? Did you choose your race/ethnicity? Did you choose your eye color? I'm pretty sure the answers there are "NO". Something else that has no solid proof is a deity. Are you part of any religion? Can you show me rock solid proof that your deity exists? "Just because you believe it, that doesn't make it real." Sucks when your own ideals are turned back at you, and you have no way to refute it, huh? We are people. The same as anyone else. More so than some. We just want to live our lives. We're not monsters. A couple t-shirts I have would sum that up really well: "Keep calm. It's a Pitbull, not a freakin' monster." "I can see the hate in your eyes." You judge before you learn. If you learn at all. No one wakes up one day and decides "Today I'm going to be trans. Tomorrow I think I might be a fish." While we're talking about animals, did you know that there are several kinds of animals that can sporadically change sex? So supposed biology, and everything it thinks it knows, is not necessarily written in stone. There ARE more than two genders. You may not like it, but there are. And from your words, you don't care about your son. You care about your public image. I would say what I think of you, but you're not worth the time.

You might think I'm exaggerating. You might think I'm fantasizing. But this isn't a fantasy. Nor is it an exaggeration. This is Hell on earth. When I was in my junior year, I started noticing people in the town I went to school in acting strange when they saw me. I at first thought they realized that I would just as soon stomp them than look at them. I thought they would finally back off and leave me the * alone. I was more than off. Apparently, someone in school had gotten the bright idea to start spreading rumors that I had an assault rifle and said I was going to open fire at graduation and set up bombs at prom. Excuse me? What? Ok lets get one thing straight. I'm not a lunatic. I can act like I am in jest, but I'm not. Give me a little credit here. If I had inclinations to do something like that, how stupid would I have to be to announce it first? I may not be the president of Mensa, but my IQ is still bigger than my shoe size. Second, I had no idea how to even build a simple pipe bomb. My experience with explosives was Black Cats. Third, where the hell am I getting this assault rifle they want so badly for me to use? The bullying had been nuclear since I moved into the district, but I was the one getting suspended for it. Which caused the beatings at home to become worse, which in turn caused me to be even meaner at school. But that's irrelevant to this. The night of prom, I thought it was still 2 weeks away. I was at a place that I volunteered at. I'm standing there behind the register, and I see someone coming down the stairs into the store. I go to say hello, and it turns out to be a cop. Now this store is not the type of place you will find a cop. It's a hippie type place that isn't really favored by the local law force. So I'm taken aback a bit by seeing him. He comes up to me and asks if I'm Jared. I was like "Uhh....yeah." He then proceeds to ask me what my plans are that night. I told him I was picking up my girlfriend and a couple friends and we were going to go out to a local dance hall called Good Time. After that we were all going home and going to bed as it would be 1:00 in the morning. He asked if I had any other plans. I asked him if he had * in his ears, and that I had just told him my plans. Then I asked him why the hell he cared. That was when I found out about the bomb threat. I know in a small town things can get boring, but is this really what it has to resort to for entertainment? He then said he peeked in my truck and saw some bullets in the console. I was like "your point?". He asked if he could search my truck. I asked for his warrant. He didn't have one. I told him bring a warrant and he could search it all day. He asked me why I said no. I told him it was because I was through letting the cops harass me ever second of the day. I literally couldn't go anywhere at the time without one of them tailing me. And Gods forbid I get within 20 miles of anywhere that sold guns or ammo. I eventually started taking wild courses through neighborhoods, and off roads to lose them so I could get a few moments peace. If they had been up my butt any further, they would have been sticking out my nose. The reason there were bullets in my truck was because it was close to deer season and I had been at the range with my rifle. I had no idea where prom was even being held, but was warned that if I was seen near there I would be detained. FOR WHAT? DRIVING? If I fart are you going to arrest me for chemical warfare? I laughed in his face and told him he couldn't arrest me for being in the vicinity. Being in the vicinity of Auschwitz does not mean I'm Adolf Hitler. By that point I was beyond livid. I called someone up to relieve me, and I went in the back to try to settle down. One guy bought me a bottle of tea, and talked me down. I'm not going to lie, I wanted so bad to deck that cop. After I was able to talk without screaming I explained what was going on. He was white as a sheet when I finished. He offered to go on record on my behalf, but I told him it wouldn't do any good. In a small minded town, anyone different, with different beliefs, is a target. And it doesn't matter how many people go to bat for them. They're all going to strike out whether they hit the ball or not. From what I heard, parents from kids in every grade were calling the school wanting to know if it was safe to send their kids in. My supposed "aunt" was the secretary in the office, but she didn't help the situation. When they asked if she knew me, she admitted that she had known me my whole life and that she was my aunt. But she also volunteered that I was a weird and disturbed child. Thanks. That was halfway into the year. That was also when I dropped out. I heard that at what would have been my graduation there were undercover cops there. Obviously nothing happened, or I wouldn't be typing this. I honestly did consider making a speech about bullying there, and then putting a bullet in my own head after letting them know that they drove me to it. Once again, obviously that didn't happen either. Here's the kicker that makes me sick to this day. After I dropped out, I vowed to never go back to that town for any reason, and I have kept that vow. But when nothing happened at graduation, a new rumor formed. I never specified what graduation I was going to shoot up or which prom I was going to bomb. So for the last 20 years there have been undercover cops at every school function. Specifically graduation and prom. And they move prom every year so I have a harder time finding it. I would love to let loose with a lot of words that aren't allowed, because I feel like it would help me blow off some steam. But I would rather be allowed here in somewhat decent standing, as opposed to five minutes of posting a hundred vulgarities and being banned. This is part of why it was easy to be clinically diagnosed a sociopath. Because after treatment of this caliber, human life has grown to mean absolutely nothing to me. I won't go into detail about what actions I would take in certain situations, but rest assured, the diagnosis is spot on. I'm more misanthropic than anyone can know. I've gone numb anymore. I'm willing to offer my thoughts, and I mean what I say or I wouldn't say it. But those words are invalidated when applied to myself. I've become a cutter, just to feel something. Anything. I love seeing the blood well up and start running down. I have all kinds of scars on my arm. Sometimes I even rub salt in the wound. When you've got nothing, and never had a chance, you take what you can get. And all too often, it's still nothing. You can only fall so far, before there's nowhere left to go. Times up.

I just found out as of last night that it would cost more to fix the van than it's worth, so I'm extra screwed. I'm stuck at home now, permanently until I get something. But that's not going to happen anytime soon, because I'm flat broke and these things are EXPENSIVE. I got lucky finding the one that I have/had. But lightning doesn't strike twice as they say, so it looks like I better start taking extra time to get anywhere because I'm going to have to sit down to let the pain subside ever 5 steps. I. Hate. This. Life.

I HATE MY VAN!!!! The worthless hunk if junk has screwed me for the last time. I was leaving the doctors office, and the sliding door, on the passenger side with the ramp, CAME OFF THE EXPLETIVE DELETED TRACK!!!! My anxiety and stress are through the roof now. I wish I had a mannequin or something so I would have someone to strangle.

I have to rave about my Lady. She is the love of my life. Non-human that is. I was online several years ago, and just looking at pets available for adoption, when I came across her picture. It was love at first sight. I immediately grabbed Adrianne and we went to the Humane Society to meet her. It was obvious that it was love at first sight for her too. Adrianne and I both knew she was coming home with us. But she had to meet the chihuahuas to make sure they would get along OK. For some reason, I was the one that went home to pick them up. Adrianne told me later, that when I left to get them, Lady was so sad to see me go. And when I got back the light in her eyes was brighter than ever. Even though she's a pitbull, she got along great with the chihuahuas, and still does to this day. Clover, our youngest chihuahua is very possessive of her. I think that's absolutely hilarious. But ever since we brought her home, she and I have been inseparable. Any time I'm having any kind of problem, she's there for me. All I have to do is hold her, and everything is right in the world. It doesn't matter what the problem is. She makes it right. And when she wants attention from me, she makes it known. She'll come up, and push her head under my hand or leg in an attempt to get me to pet her or move so she can climb up with me on my recliner. All I need is her to make everything OK again. I made the video below about her last year. She's my heart and soul.

Every day I get lower and lower in spirits. Life is increasingly less valuable to me. I don’t know what to do. I know suicide does nothing but pass the pain on. I don’t want to do that to her, but I’m wearing down so much that I’m starting to lose the will to go on. Star stopped me long ago, but he’s no longer here. I feel like I have absolutely nothing left to live for. Love is an illusion anymore, it seems. The more I think, the less I have to find happiness in. I’m not materialistic. I have what is a requirement to sustain life physically. Shelter, food, water, clothing. But that’s not what is missing. My own parents hated me. Adrianne’s parents hate me. My neighbors look at me in disgust and I don’t even know their names. I’ve literally never had a friend. I look at life and it holds nothing. There is nothing. It may pass the pain on, but at least mine would end. That clip sums it up exactly.

I'm watching Family Guy on Hulu right now. In the episode the guys are texting. Joe texts a video of a guy in a wheelchair going up a ramp real fast, doing a backflip, and landing it. I looked at my chair, which is a powerchair, and thought, "There's no way this could do it. This thing's too heavy. Then I realized what the situation I'm in is. I'm in a wheelchair because I can't walk. I'm 38 years old and have been in a wheelchair for 2 years now. I'm 38 and in a wheelchair. I have Myotonic Muscular Dystrophy type 1. Within 3-4 years I won't be able to walk at all in any capacity. My body is deteriorating. Not just my body, but my cognitive faculties as well. I didn't get in a car accident and break both my legs. This isn't temporary. I'll never get out of this chair. Some people may think that it's nice that I have something to carry me around. I would trade them this chair for the ability to walk in a heartbeat. 3 steps and I pass out. Too much exertion. I never saw my life coming to this end. I never in a million years would have seen myself being confined to a wheelchair by the time I was in my mid 30's. MMD type 1 is a terminal disease. It has taken years off my life. Obviously I don't know how many. I've discussed it with Adrianne. If it comes earlier than expected, she will come here and make a post to let everyone know. I hate this life that I'm forced to live. I can't take care of myself fully. I have to have help. Adrianne went on a cruise with her parents a few years ago, and she had some family of ours (friends that are now family) come over every day to check on me. I was in my 30's and had to have a babysitter. I'm a full grown adult, and had a babysitter. You have no idea how humiliating that was. I felt like an invalid. Like I was being told that I could never last if I didn't have someone here. My egg donor was back in here reminding me how worthless and useless I am. I heard that all day every day. My sperm donor was back beating me. I was defeated. I still am. I'm not a person. Even the federal government says so. I'm a nonperson. I just got the news before most people. I just want a little dignity. But that's not going to happen.

UPDATE- I just realized that I left out one very important part in the section about rat behavior and mentality. "Rats will however, give you a very light nibble from time to time. This is what's known as a rat kiss. It's the same as when a dog licks you. It's a sign of affection, and nothing to be afraid of. "

Monica - She didn't suddenly change her mind. She has always said she supports me, and still says that. But at the same time her eyes have told a different story. As for the hostility, that would be her parents. When I came out, they went from verbal abuse, to threats of physical attacks, as well as stealing from me. To them I have no worth or value. As for other couples, we know none. We're alone in a sea of intolerance and my life preserver is deflating while her life boat is sailing away. RachelB- I'll think on that. If you want to mention something and let me know what she thinks later, go for it. If not, that's fine too.

Even though she tells me otherwise, I can see in my wife's eyes that she wants out so she can find a "real man". I think the only reason she stays with me is because of my disability. She feels like she has to take care of me or something. I wish I didn't have to put her through this, and that I could give her what she wants. Sometimes I feel like I should de-transition and go back to being him. Give her what she needs. She needs a man. I don't want to lose her, so if I have to take the blow then fine. I just don't know where to go on this. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her and make her happy. Even if it means I'm miserable. She is more important. And if the only thing that could make her happy is leaving me, I wouldn't be here for long afterwards. I have always felt nothing but self loathing. But now with what I'm putting her through, it's multiplied exponentially. Sometimes, I think I should just CTB so she is free to find what she wants. I don't even know what to do anymore. I don't know where to turn. I would see a therapist, but there are no LGBTQ+ friendly therapists within 2 hours of me. I'm just empty. I feel numb. Soul less. Broken. Lost. Where do I send my mind from here before it's as broken as my heart is?

UPDATE - I have done a little looking into it, and I’m switching the bedding from sawdust. I’m using fleece blankets as bedding now. As said, they will move the blankets around however they want, but at the same time as lining their cage, it gives them something extra to tear up. And if they choose not to shred it then you can just toss it in with your laundry. Also the blankets are much cheaper than traditional bedding, and safer for small animals such as rodents.

I lost all faith in humans a long time ago. My faith in humanity has been dead longer than trilobites.