10/17/26 - Everybody's Talking At Me
In this entry, I'll be discussing some very sensitive, difficult topics. Be advised, friends. I tell you these things with dignity, and in confidence.
I've been feeling like a kid again. The fear, the uncertainty, it's returned. Let me be clear about it, none of my typical prose.
Right now, as I type this, I'm watching my favorite movie. Midnight Cowboy, 1969, Schlesinger.
A gay movie, like they don't make anymore. I guess that one's got the feeling of it, what I'm stewing about, y'know.
When I grew up, I didn't believe I'd ever have an ear to let it out to. Today I have dozens, maybe hundreds. I'm not used to it, y'know.
I'd like to believe that all these people, these friends, these comrades, these lovers, y'know... I'd never in my wildest dreams think I'd have anyone who looked at me the way they look at me.
My parents love me the most, more than anyone, yeah, but they used to be real religious, y'know. They used to be so down on the gay folks, y'know, so it wasn't easy figuring myself out around 'em, y'know.
I keep using that crutch, when I'm thinking, so I'll try to stop saying "y'know" so much.
That's not the point of this. Let me be honest. I hope I can trust you guys, cause I'm not used to bearing my soul in a manner so plain, but I'll tell you anyways.
Its my belief, my suspicion, that I suffer from some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder, of the paranoid variety. As long as I remember, I've intermittently suffered from extreme bouts of fear and paranoid delusions that immobilize me from being able to act or speak. It's debilitating. The peaks of the freak-outs typically involve a hyper fixated fear of being kidnapped, murdered, or possibly even sexually assaulted. It makes it very hard to feel comfortable on my own. Typically worst when I'm trying to sleep, right, but sometimes I get em during the day, and that's... that's just as bad, if still rare.
Recently it triggered at the same time I was experiencing some acute food poisoning and constipation, resulting in some of the most difficult times I've ever had to persevere through. My friends and family helped me greatly, but, I fear that I will need professional help. Psychiatric assistance, I fear.
This has always been my greatest secret, my biggest shame, and my greatest burden. I am in constant fear that I have done horrible things that I don't remember, or that I am secretly a disgusting, inhuman creature wearing the clothes of a human being. I am constantly in fear that somebody is behind me, or watching through a window. I have gotten very good at compartmentalizing this illness, but lately it has worsened as a result of an emotional imbalance. This imbalance, I think, is caused by my dependency on social validation gained through humor. I can't turn it off, because then the fear comes back.
My last relationship did not help with this. They took advantage of me, in more ways than you may even be thinking of, and thus they actually worsened my experience with this issue.
I'll cut to the chase. I'm very afraid that I may be taken advantage of again. Whether by a new partner, or by a more violent offender in am internment setting... it's hard to shake these irrational fears. I've had healthy and fulfilling sex, so I don't know why I'm still thinking it won't happen. It's just something I can't shake.
Y'know, I've spent my whole life afraid of that. Don't tell my Mom I said this, but I've been made aware that she has long believed that I have been victimized, as a child, in a capacity I either can't readily remember or choose to not talk about. Why she feels this way, I can't say, but I understand. I think she believes it's why I'm transgender, why I didn't seem to pursue relationships in High School, etc.
She might be right, possibly. These fears, they started when I was very young. I remember in that old house, on the East Side, I remember having a fear of man being in my room, at night, waiting for me to close my eyes... it was not my parents, neither of them. Maybe it was a church member? Maybe a relative? Maybe it never happened? It's not something I care to dwell on. Since then, I have never felt safe being alone. Ever.
But I typically am, anyways. All my years in school, I'd be home before anyone else, at home. There'd be days where I came home from school and I'd sit on the couch for an bour and a half, unable to move or talk, sweating and shivering in immense fear and anguish. It was the most painful part of my everyday routine. I'd sometimes cry, sometimes pray. But I couldn't close my eyes, couldn't move.
It stopped for a bit, in college. I reasoned that on campus, my stalkers couldn't find me in the big residence halls. My suitemates were awake and active, they would help me, I thought. I never felt truly alone as long as I was in a dense area like Cass Corridor, in Detroit.
But it's come back, ever since moving into the neighborhood I'm in now. I need an area with more people, more noise from the neighbors. Otherwise, I will be victimized. I will be taken, or killed.
You may be thinking, you seem normal around me? That's because you're a peer. When I'm with you, I'm not alone. And I won't be hurt. That's how the crazy stuff works.
I never act on this illness. Because I know it's not "me," I figured it out really out. But in Middle School, I used to stab myself in the leg and fingers, and constantly pray and repent to God whenever I experienced an intrusive thought, because I believed it was proof I had a demonic spirit. I also felt this was about my wanting to be a girl. I've wanted to be a girl for quite literally as long as I can possibly remember, so, you can imagine how recent my self-love was discovered.
I'm a bit of an extrovert, right, and I love to joke around and socialize, and flirt and sing out loud to others and do speeches, yeah. I also like to make all my art and writings and songs, and thus I like to write on my little blog for my friends to see, y'know. It's a bit vain, yes, but I like to be open about who I am, and what I am feeling. It feels better than carrying it all by myself. I've never liked the idea of a diary, because I've always thought, if nobody else can read it, it may as well just stay in my head anyways. I want to find people who will listen, I always was thinking shit like that. And I was right, but it was annoying.
I'll level with you. There's this new girl I've been talking to, one I'm thinking of seeing again real soon, and I like her alot. Maybe I'm being too romantically minded, fixating so much on her when I only been round her the one time, but I think she likes me, too. And I just hope... that this problem I've got, this paralysis, I deal with... I hope it'll be okay. I hope she can understand it, and I hope it won't be too much of a nuisance in being around her. I hope she's somebody I can feel safe with, so I won't have to be afraid. I guess I'm scared of being with somebody who makes me feel afraid, again. I can't go back to that, but I think she's different. I want to believe that she's different. I don't need her to be perfect, I just hope she respects me as much as she loves me. That's not always something you'll find, being a lady in love. I'll do better than my best to do right by her, even if she doesn't like me that way, not just cause it's the right thing to do, but because it's the example by which I'd like to be treated.
It's been difficult to work on music, because to make good songs I need to have a clear, open, and eager mind when opening my computer, and I don't have that right now. As long I don't know how she feels, as long as I don't know how she'll react to seeing me struggle with this... my mind won't be clear.
But I do have hope. I do believe that things will be okay, for me. I know Manal and her kids, and Remas and her daughter, and Ibrahim and his kids and wife will all be okay. God's on their side. Because they're okay, I'm okay. And really... no matter what happens, I'm worth it. I'll be okay. I'm gonna live a long, long time.
Everybody's talkin' at me
I don't hear a word they're sayin'
Only the echoes of my mind
People stoppin', starin'
I can't see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes
I'm goin' where the sun keeps shinin'
Through the pourin' rain
Goin' where the weather suits my clothes
Bankin' off of the northeast winds
Sailin' on a summer breeze
And skippin' over the ocean like a stone
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