I threw a wrench in it (but I’m proud)

I’m learning more what’s Forbiddden.

Can’t talk about the queer, can’t talk about the crazy.

What’s almost worse is the flat affect I get when I talk about anecdotes: One of the bus drivers, turns out, is just a big an Elvis fan as I am. I put myself under all sorts of shields when I told my aunt that one silly thing.

At home with the immediate family, I am used to pretty much everything I say in that sense, small talk, tastes, opinions, anecdotes, get skewered for being wrong, stupid, bad.

(I said all this in group, the question was where are we at, is group helping. I mean two people were on my side, but then the last person to share was closed mouthed as anything. We both do that.. and this time I didn’t, and they still did, and I felt like my sacrifice was for naught, like I was betrayed, haha)

Okay, but anyway. The wrench.

I emailed my aunt about a photo on facebook, asked her to take it down, pre transition, whatever. She emailed me back, hasn’t been on facebook for over a year, but she’ll try to take it down, etc.

But she called me by my birthname. In email. Emailing me, typing out my birthname. This is weird and concerning, to me. It’s been four years, she’s seen me as I am now, -feminine I am not- and she wrote it down in an email. I didn’t even care in an it’s about me, *dysphoriaaaa!* way. I mean I did, but to myself, it was just a twinge of ‘eeecch’ – as it goes, you know. I was outwardly concerned about her, so I called up dad, and mentioned it. That’s the wrench: I brought up the queer, more specifically the trans. I knew it’d be awkward, I knew it’d bring things to a stop and there would be a ‘smell’ for awhile from, danno, rainbow farts =D

But I was worried about my aunt, because, and dad said so too, it was ‘disconcerting’, that she did that.

Now What?

I have read a bit into Bear’s book, (go me!) and came across ‘glitter family’.

I miss them.. and here, when the veil is thinnest, (they’re not dead, just gone), I want to reach out to all those who have passed through my life, old friends that I wanted to call family.

But I know that’s really not a good idea.

…….

One of the bars here is holding a halloween party. Takes an hour to walk down there. I’m debating on whether I should go, and try. But, ‘and then what?’ is the question. I don’t have a drinking problem, per se. I’m not an alcoholic.

…but I am a former psychotic. And alcohol makes me feel like I’m losing it.

It’s really hard for me to feel safe anywhere, and alcohol just magnifies that sense tenfold. it’s like my core flickers wildly, and my shields are pulled outwards like cobwebs. As my insides roar, it’s hard to keep my tongue in my mouth, to keep ‘seated’ in a sense. I feel like I have to work hard to stay here.

Smoking, I can’t breathe, and that sends my anxiety everywhere. Smoking something else *ahem* if I smoke to much of it, I really feel like I’m close to losing it, and I have to sit there, and work hard to keep myself whole. Painkillers, I hate taking them. They do it too.

Anyway.

‘Just get a soda!’ you say. Ah, but there’s the rub – I actually do have a soda problem. I’m trying to quit, it’s been five days. I’m dying.

so, now what? It’s a ‘tradition’/stereotype, that queers have met in bars.. and for 20 somethings to drink. And, now what?? I’m socially graceless in general. If I have no ‘habitat’ in which to pretend to know what I’m doing.. now what?