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the thing that should not be

Jan. 13th, 2012 | 03:34 am
location: beneath human
disposition: disappointeddisappointed

It's the little things, I guess.

Today, I had an appointment for a consultation with the breast surgeon for removing the lump.

Click the cut link to read the details of that visit.
in madness you dwellCollapse )

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too much time on my hands

Jan. 6th, 2012 | 05:22 pm
location: out of work
disposition: confusedconfused

I was let go from my job today. It wasn't a layoff but I wasn't told specifically why.

Challenge Stage.

I'll be ok... because I have to be, right?

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Jan. 4th, 2012 | 11:05 pm
location: outta my head
disposition: draineddrained

So... yeah, now I need breast surgery.

Click the link to read about my doctor's visit.

lump sat alone in a boggy marshCollapse )

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Dec. 29th, 2011 | 04:48 am
location: the path

Day 30.

It is said that time heals all wounds. The truth of this resides in your definition of wound. I have been wounded many times and only recently realized how many were self inflicted. I have sometimes picked at the scabs of these wounds and have deep scars to show for them. Though these memories are painful, I have healed. From wounds, one heals.

This is something different entirely. Lost limbs and organs do not heal. A part of me is missing. I will get through this... I just don't know how, yet. I will learn to walk again. I will adapt, somehow. But so long as I remain separated from this part of me, I know that I will never again be whole.

So many times we behaved as children. Each of us so often needed parenting. What I am feeling now must be similar to the way a parent feels when a child has run away from home. It should not be surprising then that on day 30, I still call out aloud... for minutes, for hours sometimes. I know that I cannot be heard but sometimes struggle to believe it. Please come home. If you need time and space now, I will be patient. You don't have to come home to the relationship we had but you can come home. You don't have to run away.

I understand now how our relationship worked... and how it didn't. The therapist said over and over that we fed each others' issues. That we had to work on our own stuff. We seemed to take turns with depression and with willingness to participate.

(click the link to expand the rest of the entry)

fox on the runCollapse )

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Dec. 20th, 2011 | 10:57 pm
location: the mirror
disposition: guiltyguilty

It doesn't really count as an epiphany if someone had to explain it for me to get it.... and someone did. I have been accused of guilt tripping many times, I just never understood what it meant or agreed that I was doing it.

But I have been... a lot, with everyone, and for a long time. I know, I already said that about insecurity, being demanding, and dependency so I think these things all come bundled together with me.

guiltyCollapse )

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blue christmas

Dec. 17th, 2011 | 04:41 pm
location: the present
disposition: contemplativecontemplative

I feel like I'm in It's A Wonderful Life except that it happened a little differently.

I wasn't about to knowingly jump off of a bridge to my death. I was just being a difficult person to be around every day. When I was visited by the ghost of Christmas past, present, and future, I didn't see all of the positive impacts I had made in my life... I saw the negative ones.

I wish that somehow it could end similarly--that I could wake up, realize the cost of my actions, and change my terrible fate.

I guess in the end I do still have to realize the cost of my actions, change, and talk myself out of jumping off a bridge.

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gimme shelter

Dec. 16th, 2011 | 10:16 pm
location: where no one else is
disposition: lonelylonely

I don't have any friends. I can't borrow any. I have forgotten how to make new ones... if I ever really knew.

I need to be less needy. I know that but I hurt. Is it wrong to need a friend? I need someone to hold me but no one can, no one could, and no one would.

For the past few months, I could sleep so well. I had an arm around me pulling me close like a teddy bear. I felt so warm, so safe, and secure. This was three weeks ago, so the feelings were wrong: I was not safe or secure. I need to be held like that again more than anything even if it doesn't really mean that.

I'm pretty sure that being a girl makes all of this hurt a little worse.
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test for echo

Dec. 16th, 2011 | 09:14 pm
location: hell
disposition: crushedcrushed

Ok, so that last entry is a bit much to read. It's more of a ramble than even my normal posts so here's a shorter version.

I am feeling the worst I have ever felt in my life because I have lost a relationship with someone who meant more to me than I ever knew anyone could. It's also worse because it took this to wake me up to how horrible I have treated everyone for a long time... leaving the only people who may have ever loved me in the wake of my destruction. I wasted second chances and only now truly learned what I've been doing to everyone. I hurt more each day. This is my hell and I deserve this.

I cannot suicide because it would hurt the person I've hurt most even more. This is the only thing keeping me alive now. I beg for reconsideration, forgiveness, and another chance. I push... further away. I reach... and it drifts further. I try to be good but every word is dubbed manipulation. I finally see the commitment and dedication I've longer for.... but it's a commitment to leave. Cruel words come back at me. When I express my apologies and correction... they come across as more obstacles and there is Anger. Struggling to find the smallest flicker of hope, I wonder if the anger may cover feelings that are still there. I'm told no - that there are no feelings and no more chances.

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empty spaces

Dec. 16th, 2011 | 05:41 am
location: hell
disposition: crushedcrushed

"Life is what happens when you make other plans."

Sorry for the interuption--I'm back. When I look back on these old posts, I like the author. The reason that seems strange to me is that I didn't like myself all that much at the time... or now.

Is it that life only gets worse... or I only get worse... or everything is the same and nostalgia makes old things look better... is grass greener somewhere...

The scariest possibility to me is that I like myself less as I know myself more. In perhaps only this one way, I am not alone.

shatteredCollapse )

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just checking in

Nov. 4th, 2008 | 04:54 pm
disposition: contemplativecontemplative

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high piled books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And feel that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.
- John Keats, 1870

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big eyes

Feb. 6th, 2008 | 03:47 pm
disposition: blahblah

And then there's this...

Free Image Hosting at ImageShack.us

stolen from here

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eyes without a face

Jan. 28th, 2008 | 04:01 pm
location: inside the mask behind a mask
disposition: depresseddiscouraged



Christina Ricci has a big forehead...


...and is still very attractive.
Christina Ricci never ever gets mistaken for male despite having such a large forehead. If you covered up the rest of her face and looked only to her forehead, you would still easily identify the owner as female. Why? The shape of the skull.

Note the flatness of the average female forehead:

male female skull comparison
  My forehead is large enough that I've been accused of having a receding hairline. My hairline hasn't moved--or at least not much. I just have a prominent forehead with the male marking hair pattern.  

  female face

Human female hairlines tend to look more rounded.
male face

Male hairline more usually have higher peaks on the sides.

  Solution: Cosmetic Surgery or more specifically, Facial Feminization Surgery

Risks: Infection, Nerve Damage, Over Correction, Under Correction, Hematoma

Cost: $5,000-10,000 plus six to eight weeks of being unable to work in public

I will never be short or have small feet so I imagine that some people will always be suspect that I may be transgendered. For what's left of everything else, it really comes down to my voice... and my forehead.

I'm considering just buying a grinding wheel... but I guess I will be researching plastic surgeons.


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Writer's Block: Do You Believe?

Dec. 20th, 2007 | 03:56 pm
location: highway to hell
disposition: nostalgicnostalgic

When did you stop believing in Santa Claus and why?
I don't remember ever believing. I remember being a greedy little kid who pretended to believe so that I could tell people what I wanted under the guise of, "I hope Santa brings me..." .

I remember watching my parents unload presence from the car from my bedroom window. I remember the places I wasn't supposed to go in the house... as if there was something in them that made those places off limits only in the months of November and December.

Later, I learned how to blackmail siblings. I started with the basic, "I'll tell you what you're getting if you tell me what I'm getting." This was a lie of course, but we call it a "ruse" when we think we're being clever. The key is to make them so curious about what they're getting that they're willing to tell you first and risk the ruse.

It was then import to disrupt the exchange so that before the unsuspecting sibling could even say, "You lied to me, you lying liar!" I would launch into tattle-tell mode exclaiming, "What! I can't believe you really told me! I didn't think you were goign to really tell me! Mom is going to be so pissed that you told me that you'll be lucky if you still get a present at all!"

After a little begging a pleading not to tell, the blackmail was in place so that for the next six to eight weeks, any information the sibling collected was now accessible. This lead to me to questions like, "Where is mom hiding my present?" followed by, "Tell me or I'll tell mom that you told me what I was getting."

I would then wait until I had the house to myself before exercising the practiced art of removing scotch tape without tearing the paper and then neatly replacing it... just to make sure. You never know when they'll lie to you after all.

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