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Tired of Fighting

I haven’t written anything for over two months now and believe me I have tried but in recent times things have gotten so much that I can’t express myself. I can’t get things off my chest and easy my own troubles by sharing them with whichever anonymous readers wish to read my posts. Everything has been bottled up inside because I have had no choice, I have had to keep my problems to myself. Life has been a real struggle as of late. My Boss and good friend got fired and I haven’t been able to speak to him since then. The one guy at work that was keeping me grounded has gone, whereas being at work is certainly preferable to the toxic environment of the family house, I say house because it isn’t a home to me anymore. Being at work with no one to ground me or to turn to and confide in or calm me down when someone sets of one of my triggers is leaving me living in a perpetually stressful state. When I am stressed I can’t write, I can’t draw, I can’t sing, I am trapped and have no way out. There are so many days that pass and I wish, and I pray that I can just be a normal person. Don’t get me wrong I am glad that I discovered myself and who I am, but not a day goes by when I don’t wish I was born with body and soul matching. There isn’t more than a week that passes by without contemplating suicide. I hate having to fight so hard for what other’s take for granted. I am tired of fighting and I don’t know how much fight I have left in me. I wish I could wave a magic wand and be the man I am supposed to be, unfortunately this is the real world and not one of the many games I play to try and escape reality. As it is I have been waiting for over a year for a referral to the Gender Clinic, I found out recently that I was sent the paperwork to fill in, but they were sent to my old address where the bitch house mate didn’t forward my mail but instead destroyed it. I could already be halfway to HRT and surgery by now but I’m not. I turn thirty this year, how depressing is that? The older you get the harder the transition, I would sooner take my own life than spend the rest of it living as something I am not. Well I guess we shall see what happens. If no more blog entries appear here or the domain vanishes, you know what’s happened. I just hope I have the strength to carry on.

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So Another really shitty year has been and gone. Not as shit as 2013 but still pretty awful, I had some good times too though like usual they were short lived and overshadowed by the negatives. Here I am hoping that I will have a better year this year. Having come out to my family at long last I have lifted that great weight off my shoulders, though I do wonder if I made the right choice. At the end of the day, fuck it, I have a right to be happy and if that means my parents don’t like who I am then tough,  I have had enough of hiding.

The obligatory resolutions

1. Loose weight, if I don’t I’ll be dead by the time I’m 40.

2. Get further down the road to full transition.

3. Sign up with a GP that will take me seriously

4. Don’t neglect my spiritual/religious side.

5. Make time for me, I’ve moved back home and trying to make any time for myself is near impossible, but if I don’t I might just breakdown from all the stress I have to deal with from my family.

Lets see how many of these I can keep this year.

Why?

Not much a title but it pretty much sums up my post, a series of questions beginning why to which there is not answer, at least no satisfactory answer.

Why is it that only a month after coming out to my parents and them promising to support me in my choices that things have gone exactly back to how they were. No use of my identified name or male pronouns, being called a daughter instead of a son. It’s like nothing happened, that this huge step in my life is non existent. It took me a very long time to muster up the courage to come out to them and nothing has changed, the fact things have gone back to how things were makes it hurt all the more. They said they wanted me to be happy so why are they causing me more pain? I try to talk to them about it but they don’t want to know, they have no time for me. Am I really that much of a disgrace or embarrassment?

Why is it that people like me, trans* people have to fight tooth and nail to have a normal life, the normal life that everyone else takes for granted. Four doctors now and not one of them is taking me seriously. I’ve been packing and binding for two years, wearing male others longer than that, what else do I have to do to make the doctors take me seriously. Why do I have to fight to have a ‘normal’ life. I am so tired of fighting but I can’t give up. I have a right to be happy, and I can’t be happy when my mind and body are so mismatched. Why can’t a doctor take me seriously for once in my damned life, it’s got to the point where I would rather die than live out the rest of my days as female. So again I ask, Why?

So last Saturday I finally came out to my parents. I will be honest I was expecting them to rant and rave and disown me. To my surprise they are being really supportive and shit, a huge weight has benefited from my shoulders. I feel so much better about myself now that I can be  myself and no longer live a double life. I don’t have to hide any more and that is certainly a liberating experience. Once I had the conversation with the parents I decided to change my name on the social media sites I use and come out there too. I have had nothing but overwhelming support from my friends and I am so glad they are all there for me, it’s great to know that while this is a very personal journey I have people who will support me on my way.

The next stage now will be to legally change my name and find a doctor who will take my seriously. Along with that I need to make sure I look after my other half too, my transition is just as big a journey for him as it is for me as he will have to take a long hard look at us both and how people see him. It’s not going to be easy for him, I just hope I don’t loose him. I love him to bits and would be lost without him.

Okay so let’s see how bad I’m doing.

1. I think I am still looking weight, I don’t know where my scales are as since I moved back in with my parents in February I am still living out of cardboard boxes. Oh I finally joined a gym…..

2. I had quit cigars completely but stress has me smoking again.

3. Still barely drinking, doing really well here.

4. Still at a grinding halt with the NHS with regards to the medical side of things, but names have been changed on some of my work paperwork. Deed Poll next but I need to sit down and talk to my parents. I am not looking forward to it.

5. Nope, still failing with my spiritual side, living out of boxes is not conducive to being in the right frame of mind to do anything spiritual. I am hoping to sort this out.

6. Still not allowed time to myself, I need me time or I am going to crack.

At 11pm upon this day, 4th August, 100 years ago The United Kingdom declared war upon Germany, and so began The Great War, four and a quarter years of blood shed and massive loss of life, the beginning of a new era in European history. In Britain alone over a million men gave their lives so that we might be free, and while the First World War may have passed from living memory it’s legacy remains.

I am grateful for those men that laid down their lives so I might enjoy the freedoms I have, and it sickens me to see so many of the younger generation turn around and not give a shit about the past. However amongst the ignorant masses there is still hope, there are still some youngsters who do understand and pay their respects in their own ways to those who have gone before us. You would think we would learn from the lessons of the past, but it would seem we cannot. The Great War was supposed to be a war to end all wars, but even 100 years on we are still embroiled in combat of one sort or another, will humanity ever learn?

Nine Years

Nine years have passed since the London Tube Bombings, and yet while I am thankful I made it through unscathed, I still feel guilty for surviving. Why did I make it and not someone else more deserving? It still haunts me, I think it always will. Though while I have moved on for the most part, there is still some fragment of me refusing to let go of the past. What doesn’t kills us makes us stronger… but scars run deep and some never fully heal.

Why is it that now everyone knows about 9/11 and will pause, a moment’s silence to remember those who died in the tragedy and help to those who survived but those that died and those that survived the subsequent terror strikes in London, Madrid and other places are all but forgotten? Damn it I was there and I refuse to let people to forget, was anything learned from what happened? I wish I knew.

Eurovision 2014

That time of the year has been and gone again and now won’t be back until 2015 where it will be hosted in Austria.

This year I ma aged to watch the broadcasts of the semis and the final, and anyone who has me on face book will have noticed my Terry  Wogan style commentary on the acts in my status messages. Some great acts and some bloody awful ones (like twin twin from France, even my French relatives hated them). It still really upsets me that the voting is still very much political in some instances and it’s upsetting that some backward and bigoted nations were calling for Eurovision to be cancelled because of one of the entries. Eurovision should only ever be about the music, yea like fuck had that will happen any time soon.

I loved the Russian entry it was a beautiful and moving song, it was just at the wrong time and in the wrong place, a song of peace sung against the political backdrop of Putin being a complete moron. So sad that the girls who sung got booed by the audience, and booed again when they got votes. They really didn’t deserve that, it’s not their fault Putin is a prat. On the other side of the coin, Russia,  Belarus and a few other nations had no right to call for Eurovision to be cancelled or boycotted or censored because Conchita Wurst was performing. Eurovision is supposed to be about the music you prats.

I’m really glad Conchita won, Rise Like A Phoenix, is a beautiful song. I would paste the song lyrics here but I can’t copy paste properly on this Kindle. I won’t be surprised if the song becomes a LGBT anthem, especially amongst the the trans* community. People like Conchita Wurst are an inspiration, to often society chokes and conceals people like this because they go against the norm. We need more people to be an inspiration to others but it’s difficult when you are fighting every step of the way. Well shit I got a lot of hassle and ridicule from my parents for calling up and voting for Austria, and had to deal with all the derogatory comments they made. I hate their double standards. It’s not okay for the likes of Putin to slang off Conchita but perfectly fine for them to call her ‘it’ ‘unnatural’ and ‘abomination’. It’s sickening, makes me sick to the stomach, makes me wonder how they will react to me when I come out eventually. Just hope that one day I will have the courage to do that, and not give a rodent’s rectum about what they think of me anymore.

Okay well I’m going vastly off topic now, so I will stop typing before I ramble off even further from Eurovision. I hope one day we can live in a harmonious world where people are not judged by their gender and sexuality, I doubt I will see that in my lifetime though, doesn’t mean I can’t hope.

 

 

Hmm where to start, well the beginning is probably the best place, so here goes. On Friday 2nd May a number of heathens, members of the Kith of Yggdrasil, descended upon the British Museum. It was a Kith outing to the Vikings: Life and Legend exhibition and to a talk given by Professor Neil Price about Magic, Sorcery and the Viking Mind. The talk was free and well worth going to. If you can find you tube videos of it or if the British Museum staff have put it up on the website yet, watch it. It is so interesting and certainly calls into question some of the stereotypes we have of the Vikings.

The talk lasted 40 minutes but I find myself wishing it was longer, Professor Price has obviously researched his subject well and put all the loose ends and snippets of insight we have into Viking beliefs and made sense of it all. Turns out that there is a distinct link between sex and magic as well as between violence and magic, can’t help but chuckle at that. It would also seem that there are a lot of contradictions. Vikings are supposedly one of the most homophobic civilisations to have existed, magic was supposedly the woman’s domain too. However we find that Odin is the master of magic and we find records of male magic users. To be a male magic user was to be ergi, that is unmanly, cowardly, and all sorts of things not stereotypically male, (or as one of the group pointed out…. possibly gay…. and ergi, he thought, roughly meant cock sucker) though we find in the eddas and sagas a lot of incidents of this, Thor dressing up as a bride for a start, not to mention there was a very nice statue on display in the exhibition of Odin, wearing a dress. I wouldn’t be surprised if ergi was just applied to those individuals who didn’t fit the gender binary, this is of course just me speculating.

So the exhibition itself, wonderful items on display, I really enjoyed it. Just a shame that we were being crammed in like sardines. I hate crowds at the best of times, so being hemmed in so closely did not do my nerves any good at all and when you have selfish people pressed up against the glass of the displays so no one else can see it’s infuriating. Why don’t people have any manners or respect for other human beings, also managed to pick a ‘fight’ with some Americans… I’m sorry but if someone who knows nothing about Heathenry or Loki starts slagging him and his followers off I am going to get involved, thankfully these ladies were wonderful people to talk to so it turned into a discussion more than a fight. I am going to have to try and go again so I can spend more time looking at the items and  perhaps go earlier to evade the crowds.

Once we all made it out of the exhibition we had a small sumble outside by the replica longboat… let’s just say the boat also got doused with mead. Had a fun day out and ended up first in Atlantis Bookshop and then a pub called The Plough. I think I need to go on Kith outings more often.

Belostra 2014

Belostra was a funny one this year. Last year it clashed with the London Marathon this year it clashed with Easter, oh and it rained yet again. That didn’t really put a damper on the fest though. On the whole it was a great fest, missed out on seeing a good friend but his wife had just had another baby and there is always next time to catch up with him.

I think the festival was too short though it’s amazing how fast twelve hours fly. A thoroughly enjoyable and tiring twelve hours but I wouldn’t change a thing. Well perhaps one thing, have my other half there with me, but hey ho it’s not a perfect world.

Despite being busy running around like a blue arsed fly I found sometime to chat to one of my good friends and mentor of sorts. Told him I was transitioning and he reacted better than I thought, though to be fair I didn’t know how he would react. He said he would help me however he could and be there for me, as he had already seen one of his friends through transition and knew how hard it was on her. He also reminded me of something he said to me many years ago. “A big change is going to happen in your life, but not the sort you would expect.” Funny that, he said he’d also notice changes in my personality and such. He said I’m more bouncy and aggressive than I used to be, and that I’m not as ‘female’ as I used to be. Hell he even started going into the numerology of my chosen name which was interesting to say the least. I am glad I told him, it’s another weight off my mind, still have other people to tell and it is gradually getting easier, the hardest of all will be telling my parents. Still.Not ready for that conversation.