This month is like a brain and body crawl through pollen boot camp, and as another 20 days are slipping by already without seriously addressing goals and objectives, I've pretty much given up and settled for basic survival mode.
I generally stay off the health/med/spoonie forums when I'm like this, no sense jumping in or tangling or generally trying not to win contests. April is the month from hell for some of us, so let's just let this one go with f(x) where the function of aspienado is = an inverse ratio of pollen to airway (multiplied by fibromyalgia of the rib cage and sternum plus + sensation overload divided by / energy) minus - sleep lost squared.
Or something like that.
f(A)=pollen/airway({fibro+overload}/energy) - sleep lost squared.
The editor in here sux.
I'm sure I could complicate that equation with depression, but I'm too tired to care. I'm in 'hiding out' mode in general, avoiding talking to people. Well, I couldn't even talk in real life for about 2 weeks, and trying to still nearly sends me into coughing fits. Worst. Allergy. Season. Ever.
Imagine me actually wanting to talk on a phone to a real live person this month. I've actually been in the mood to talk on the phone, and there's just almost no way I can. I need a small amount of comfort, a real human voice on the other end of my tech. I doubt anyone wants to hear me struggling with trying not to cough.
I'm too tired to cry, thank goodness, because that makes anything remotely airway exponentially worse. I'm too tired to watch TV. I can barely concentrate on reading. I've been steadily plowing my way through acres of cobblestone, sand, and forests on minecraft just to be busy doing something. In multiplayer I'm at least watching a chat and sometimes responding with filling a request for a store item. The barest of human contact.
This kind of month is perfect for sliding off into random whatever catches my interest, so I've been following Bunny Bennett's vlogs about transitioning. I'm not gender dysphoric because I've always felt so disconnected anyway via asexuality and weird synesthesia and generally prefer androgyny because it's just easier and I'm lazy (and allergic to make up and salon products, but I digress), but I've known a number of people for years who are, and I've heard much the same thing from all of them. When I retailed in lingerie, I often helped men shop for everything from support hosiery and shapewear (some jobs are hell on varicose veins and hernias) to everything frilly and all kinds of bras, and I never felt uncomfortable because I've never felt sexually biased in the first place. I never cared whether I was girl or boy. I can easily pass for either one.
But I am dysphoric. I've been very upset since I was a very small child that I am human. I was angry with God for years for forcing me to be born into a human body instead of a dog or a horse. I went out of my way to mimic being dogs and horses, and daydreamed about being a horse well into puberty. I'm definitely in the wrong body. I feel clumsy and awkward and like this is all wrong.
So I totally get transgender. The male/female thing not feeling right probably has the same sort of roots, because everything in the brain is chemical and hormonal. I know mine are all wrong, because I can feel it. Nothing fits right, I don't fit right, I'm uncomfortable like this, and it's been a really big deal having to hide how I really feel and try, if not to actually fit in, at least pretend to want to. And I don't even want to. And I suck at pretending.
I have no idea if this is relatable to people who feel compelled to change their bodies to be more animal or go out of their way to paint or laser animal spots or markings all over their bodies. I could care less how THIS body looks, and I see no reason to spend my time mimicking another body in this one. I'm so disconnected from this body that I simply just live in it, the same way you live in an apartment. Yeah, it's mine, and yeah, I take care of it and keep it cleaned up and I'm kind of picky about a few things, but I'm not going to miss it in my next life. Which hopefully is on another planet or nebula or dimension or something.
When I'm like this I'm not easy to be around, so I don't bother people. I'm just tired, and that makes me feel more impatient. It's already hard understanding convos most of the time anyway because of the asperger's, so I've learned just let it go. Trying to get a grip on my head and steer it when it's like this is about as dumb as trying to ride an ostrich, so howdy Pinky blog, you're my buddy right now.
I would love to have a real convo about feeling dysphoric with someone besides my psychologist, and I bet I'd be able to get a hilarious live stream hangout going over it, but even if someone volunteered right now to babysit me through tech setup, I would be such a drag to work with my brain flat like this that the fun part wouldn't last very long for me. I get these really cool ideas, and I keep saying I need staff, I need a team, and I've yet to find anyone 1- willing to embarrass themselves to death in public with me, 2- go through the popularity stoning I've been through over the years, 3- deal well with public instead of starting fights, and 4- actually help with the real work.
Several people have suggested vlogging (bless your hearts). I vlogged one year, around 2008 I think, and people actually watched the vids. I kept them fairly short because I don't sit still that long and I bore myself to death just talking (I'm not a natural talker), but it was a bad year going on worse, and I just wiped them out. But I have absolutely no qualms about how I look in public, and as long as I'm not expected to pretend anything or have to sit still too long, I imagine I could do just fine, except I hit all the wrong buttons like a super klutz. I do that in minecraft, too, basically throw wool at zombies, like I'm making knitting buddies or something.
This is long, and I wound up skyping, so maybe I'll just post it. I haven't even proofed it yet, no telling what you'll get. Here, click this and go look at food. You're welcome.
