This is the only section of my original entry for today that I still believe is true. I believe it is the only passage that authentically conveys what is in my heart.
It's now been a good 13 hours since I left Big Pink. That's right, I ended up going, had a blast. People liked my dancing again, that's always nice to hear. TV Lounge was nice too, the music was better, but its a great place to sit down and let my mind slip away. It was in doing that I realized that very same sadness you see in quotes.
Sometimes I read my past entries, and I notice what I've lost about myself.
I used to be a more poetic person, a more verbose person, before this job stripped all of that out of me. I used to be someone worth knowing.
I think that day, the day of my first call-off, was the day that ruined it all. I wasn't in a great situation regardless, yeah, I know. But I had it under control, yknow? I had the ease of what I knew, I had the stability, moderation of an empathetic center. Sure, there were problems, but I had a great illusion that things would get better if I just stayed the course, y'know?
It was that day that ruined it for me. That feeling will never come back.
Its like God rolled over my foot with his truck full of spite that day. Ever since then, my stride has been a bit off. I forgot how to talk to people, how to belive in myself. My capacity to love was forever harmed. It sounds like a bunch of bullshit, yeah. I guess maybe it is... but I had this cemented as fact in the testimony of my own friends, my own family.
My family keeps telling me they were just being nice, that they didn't want to force themselves onto my life. But they all knew that I wasn't in good place. That I was in danger, and that I had to let go somehow.
And then the worst thing happens, y'know? I saw one of the angels. Those giants I talked about a few months ago. And I wasnt myself, yknow. I really made an ass of myself to such a great person. I was absorbed into that psychosis, that need to talk to someone, anyone else, that I didn't see how much of a creep I am. I got addicted to social media just so I could try to make sure my friends might remember me.
And for me to try to be candid, to tell someone so far beyond my station, that I'm caught in something so caustic, so detrimental... I should have never said anything. I barely know anyone, y'know? How could I know anything? This is what I meant, by that quote at the beginning.
I have a problem with parasociality. I'm blessed enough to not believe I have any connection with, y'know, internet people are actors or anything like that, no.
I have a more embarrasing problem.
Its acquaintances I meet in the real world.
I keep thinking that just because I have a nice conversation with somebody one time, or just because I used to hang out with somebody a few years ago, that it means we're actually "friends." I feel like I don't really know what a friend is, I guess. I keep expecting something that maybe shouldn't happen. I always take what people say so literally, y'know. It's like there's something wrong with me. I take everything so personally, and it's just... I'm so caught in my own mind. I keep thinking everybody likes the same jokes or the same stuff. I think about this project I've been working on, and there's a phrase I wrote for one song that won't leave my head.
"You're such an 'artist.'"
It's emblematic of that doubt I feel towards myself these days. Hepburn is such a bizarre, gross concept for an album. It's not something somebody who looks and sounds like me should have any business attempting to direct. You know, its like I thought I could say "This is an album about sexual violence and exploitation, inspired by vintage porno magazines and psychological horror films," and not expect my peers to be set aside. That's such a weirdo freak idea of what an interesting project should be.
I feel like im not even recognizing myself today, I don't know. I used to be able to relax, but ever since that day, months ago... I haven't really rested my shoulders, not even once.
I feel very ashamed of myself, is basically what I'm saying. The version of Gabriel that existed before the call-off might have been more creative, more poetic about something like this. I don't know if I can be that person anymore. The version of myself that all of my friends came to love just isn't there anymore. Now im just, creepy. Too pushy, too persistent. Never lets things go, takes everything too seriously.
That's not someone you'd want to see again. I'm learning to understand that it's my responsibility to own up to my faults.
I keep thinking that I'm a friendly girl, that I'm not doing anything bad, right? I keep trying to reach out to the people I care about. I keep thinking I can still be friends with everyone.
I think my problem is, I need to be comfortable with losing a sort of youthful camaraderie I've been chasing. The good days are over, y'know? And I'm teaching myself to accept that. To understand that it's okay.
I think about my favorite childhood movie, the Incredibles. That whole movie is about Bob being unable to move on from his glory days, being unable to accept that his current life is what he should feel grateful for. That it's okay that the past is gone. The problem is that the resolution of that hard truth is that he has a family he's built with Helen, a beautiful family of incredible people. With them he finds his spark to do what he loves again, together.
And look at me, right? I didn't learn the lesson of a kids movie. I keep missing my friends, as if we don't all have full time jobs, full schedules, no breaks. Everybody I know is working class, y'know? None of us have the time or money to live the kind of life I've been faking, even if it was unintentional on my part. I guess part of why I'm so mad is that, I don't have people like that in my corner anymore. I don't have anybody who sees me at eye level like they see each other. Im surrounded by Titans who shift the world with their hands, and I'm desperately trying to simulate a feeling of kinship with something so far beyond me.
I guess the first step is, enough with the flashes of indulgence. Enough with that ache in my heart. It's time to think less about myself, and focus more on being at peace.
I might go into work tommorow with nothing special. No eyeliner, no colorful pants, no jacket. I'll wear a normal bra, no fingernail paint. No music, no blog.
I'll message the families in the morning when I wake up, and once at night. I'll wake up early, eat breakfast.
I may not do this every day, y'know. Every now and again I might be myself again, but not tommorow. Tommorow I learn to respect the station I have been given as an individual. Tommorow, I will not complain.
I think part of that might mean shuttering the blog again, even if just for a little while. I keep using it as a window into my mind for an audience I cannot see. I realize that it is not natural to want to bear my soul like this every week. It's unbecoming of somebody who seeks a stable income, a reliable sense of community and kinship, you know? I have to understand what boundaries are again. I was a better person before I ever took the plunge, before I decided to be myself. The highs of exploring my transition and meeting new people have been unmatched, there are feelings I've held onto that are irreplaceable. But I need to come to terms with the fact that this, really, was just a season. Its time to settle down now.
I will not be detransitioning, in case any of these messages give that impression. In my mind, being transgender is an immutable element of my continued survival. To quit something like that would be tantamount to a kind of psychological death. I wouldn't go that far just to feel normal, you know? I've all but come out to all my coworkers, because it is really not something I think I should try to hide.
I think I will end my entry here for today. Who knows how I will feel tommorow. Im learning more about myself every day, and what I have learned is that I am a very fickle, very emotional transgender woman. I am learning to believe that this is okay.
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