the last day of the first month of the year. . . *_______*
I feel bad again for missing an entry last night, but it was another bad one again. at least I have 29/31 entries for the month. that's much more consistent than I have ever journaled before. honestly, I think it's just withdrawal from my mood stabilizers and the side effect of t that I still have not resolved. I keep banging my head against the wall out of frustration. I wish I was being metaphorical.
it snowed a lot today. I did not have work today, and will not tomorrow, which is good. it is supposed snow into tomorrow, as well. I'll cross the bridge of getting to work on tuesday once I get there (dear god.) we went to trader joe's today, which was really fun, although it was snowing a lot. we got a lot, but most importantly, blueberry pomegranate green tea and chocolate covered frozen bananas. grocery shopping for two is always easier than for one. it's also easier when your girlfriend knows how to really cook stuff.
I dyed my hair dark green and it actually stained all my skin really bad. hopefully, it'll wash out better tomorrow. I finished sister outsider (did I already say that?) and I started guns, germs and steel AND overthrow. both make me hate the united states even more. what a disgusting amalgamation of violent imperialism, extraction of resources, and global terrorism.
I'm really stoned and I just had an audio tree happen. it goes lavender burning, the air that I breathe, buttercup, ego, class of 2013, happy, dan the dancer, and wandering star. I just had a weird memory journey, they all itched these parts of my brain.
it was a cold one today. work was alright, it was my last day of training our new coworker. I was really tired, but it's okay. I've been sleeping a lot more lately. I took a nap earlier, and I have to go to sleep pretty soon. I'm suffering through a terrible side effect of testosterone. but it's alright, I get to see my doctor in a week. I'm hoping my withdrawal from my medication won't be too bad this weekend. I forgot to call my doctor and ask for a refill until the last minute, which was too late, anyways. I'm off until tuesday starting at 12pm tomorrow, so it'll be alright.
today was strange. k gave me a croissant as I walked in because she knows I like them. (?) she always tries to start conversations with me, about anything, if I have a second of free time. (??) today, as I was leaving to end my shift, she went, "oh, hey, jo," as if she was going to tell me to do one more thing before I clocked out. so I went, "yeah what's up?" and she said, "thanks for being yourself. you're great." she looked at me. I didn't know what to do?! (??????????) as I was waiting for the lightrail, she came to the back of the house to do. . .I don't even know. she was just looking at a shelf that had like two things on it. she strikes a conversation with me about a desk (and if I wanted one) and about her workspace, and we talked about mica and coding.
when people are really kind, especially all of a sudden, it's a bit jarring for me. I said I think her attitude towards me has changed a little bit a while back, but now I'm starting to think that I don't know. . .she wants to be friends? like actual irl friends? we've been working together for over a year, but suddenly we're just like pals. and it's making my head spin because I also feel guilty that I'm attracted to her. because she's older than me and is someone I work with, and it's all overall weird. like, I don't want to have these complex emotions about my fucking job.
I was just thinking about how the pandemic is probably seriously messing up the way I interpret and understand people's tones and actions towards me. I have always struggled with social cues, but it was way worse when I was younger. I just always second guess my initial reactions to social situations. but also it's probably making me starved for something interesting to happen to me, in some fucked up way. so maybe I'm just making all this shit up in my head to feel special.
I can't really tell what is real and what isn't a lot of the times. when I'm having serious bouts of body dysmorphia, I try on so many pieces of my clothing, trying to desperately understand what it really looks like. what does my body look like? why can't I focus my eyes really well? and even if I do, briefly, it's just a for a fleeting second. then I'm left wondering if I've ever felt that exact emotion before
I'm thinking about this line from sister outsider: "And I began to recognize a source of power within myself that comes from the knowledge that while it is most desirable not to be afraid, learning to put fear into a perspective gave me great strength." it keeps reverberating in my stream of conciousness. is it what I needed to hear right now
I'm currently listening to The Idler Wheel Is Wiser than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More than Ropes Will Ever Do. that album is special to me in the way that I didn't know I knew it so well until I knew instinctively which song was going to come up, and knew most of the words to album. that last part is important because I never really memorize words to songs, it's hard for me to. fiona apple and mitski lyrics are imprinted on my brain because I just listen to them that much.
last night was good, we took bagel bite to the vet. it was all good, he was very well behaved. he cried a bit on the way there, but he was quiet and calm the whole ride back. he came home and everything was back to normal. I keep expecting him to be difficult in some manner, which was something I was prepared for, in all honesty. but no, he's just pretty chill. he is simply very sweet and calm. he makes me way less nervous a lot of the times.
the doctor said he was very 'long' and 'handsome,' 'a very big boy.' I wasn't expecting bagel bite to be so large when I adopted him, honestly. but he is a full grown cat at three years old. I think he's like a teenager in cat years, maybe. I don't really know. but yeah, he is like the length of my torso. his face is also like. . .sculpted? it's very classically beautiful, and I'm not just saying this because I love him so so much. the vet said he weighs thirteen pounds, which is fine, but he shouldn't gain anymore weight. I have adjusted his diet, and he has whined a little, because he gets a little less than he usually does, but hey man. it's for your own good, you pesky kitty!
work was all fun and games. literally. my shift was k. I don't know if she senses that I go out of my way to interact with her more often, but she has definitely gotten way more playful with me, and talks to me a lot more. my initial crush has evened itself out, which is good, but it's still weird for me. I still feel a strange tension, probably all from me. today I ran the trash much earlier than I was supposed to, and was gone for thirty or so minutes. I came back, and later on she asked me to go run it. I said I already had, and she said she told me I shouldn't have. I asked, where did you think I had gone to for half an hour? she shrugged and laughed and said, you're jo, I trust you.
real bad body day today. :( . . .I watched spirited away for the second time, and didn't fall asleep. it was alright. I want to be alone more than ever. I don't remember any times I've actually been proud of myself. I want to be forgotten. if that's what it takes to finally stop bothering and wasting people's time. I don't know how to be okay with myself anymore. please, please, please, I just want to leave this body and disintegrate. what a waste.
I feel guilty about not writing an entry last night, but to be fair, it was a pretty bad night. this entry may be long, which is alright, but I hate proofreading, but I also hate catching mistakes in my entries after I've posted them. I think I need to write now, I think writing my thoughts out has always been one of the most stable and effective ways of processing and accepting my feelings, what has happened to me, and how to move forward. I'm trying so fucking hard to take care of myself. I'm choking my self with two hands, and with a magical pair of second hands, I hold my body as it shakes violent. I'm grounding myself either way. before I ascend into the sky, or descend into the nothingness.
last night I just cried a whole lot. I used to cry a lot when I first came to baltimore, but after some time, some medications, and some patience, I stopped crying as often. I think I cry a normal amount now. and sometimes you just have to sob for hours on end. I no longer want to joke about my aching shame and fears and the ways I try to cope with them. I probably will again, but I suppose I'm just trying to force myself to finally take them seriously. to take myself seriously, so that I can actually tend to my pain.
it started with noah. (eating disorder warning.) he talked to me about how when I was gone he lost a lot of hair from not eating. I knew he had always struggled with his body image, since we were children. children. adults would poke and prod him about his body, because he wasn't a thin child. he was fat. I don't really care to comment or consider the "dangers of being overweight," because I'm talking about my brother, who was then, a fucking child. sure, adults could feign interest in trying to better his health (even though he did not have anything wrong with his body) but they were so fucking cruel.
and as a child myself, I didn't really know how to protect him from those comments. I know, I know, I was just a fucking kid, too. but I think so often, I could've shielded him better. I should have. we grew into teenagers, and he was losing weight, some of which was probably due to puberty. but then he became obsessed. and I didn't really know what to say or do. I struggled with my own body image, constantly wondering if I was too fat, but it's in that way that people who were raised as women tend to feel about their eating habits (which are often turned into disordered patterns due to pressure and misconceptions) and their growing bodies. I was too wrapped up in myself.
he would work out constantly. constantly. it all he would really do besides school. it became so strange that our own father, who never paid attention to much of anything regarding us, unless it was a pressing matter, would ask him, "are you sure you need to work out this much?" he said it made him feel good to be so fit, so strong. that is when I started to think that maybe it was all fine. but then he started calorie counting, and that is when my mind broke, that is when I felt so fucking compelled to protect him from the whole fucking fucked world that destroyed him as a child. I left for college, and I tried to think he was getting better.
then I fucking left home and didn't talk to him for a year and half. I try to accept that I had to do what I did. my father wanted me to go to some form of conversion therapy, I was so fucking close to killing myself. I had pinpointed all the locations in my hometown where I could do it. I have the same points in baltimore, too, but I don't think about that stuff as often now. I was in so much pain, and he knew I was. he would console me and support me, and fucking lovelovelove me. all he did was love me. and he confided in me, he called me his best friend. I didn't even know he thought of me so highly, but I never bothered to ask. I was too terrified of going and living at home, everything was just one big sore, that ached and pulsed with fear.
if I could go back in time, if I could go back and take myself and my brother out of the home we grew up in, brought those children into my apartment, I would. I would feed them, and I would hold them, and make them laugh. I would love them so tenderly, my brother and I. I would let them know that all the talk they hear about their bond as siblings is true. nothing will prepare you for the loss of your sibling. the loss my brother felt was temporary, but I imagine it must've been painful. it was intentional on my side, but let me fucking note, that I sobbed every fucking day for five months. and there was not a single day that my heart wasn't heavy, there wasn't a single day ten different things didn't remind me of him.
of my brother, the only family, 'blood' family that I really have. everyone else has disowned me, everyone else does not wish to know me. any ways, the jocelyn they knew and recognized is gone, and she's really gone for good. I don't mean it in a bitter way, I am just not her anymore. I was jo and jocelyn at the same time, and now I am just jo. but I love jocelyn. she was amazing, I really was. I did not know how I survived all that time. I could not do it again. but that is fair. I should not ever have to do it again.
I am so happy we speak now. one day I will see him in real life again, and I will hold him in my arms, and I know we will cry. we will cry and cry and cry, and I will tell him that he is the most beautiful version of himself that he could ever be. and I will always be eternally grateful for his kind patience, his strength, and his belief in me. all I want is for him to know that I love him just as much as he loves me. he is one of the only reasons I have not decided to die yet. I have not held him again yet, and if I can manage, I would like to again.
it started with noah, and then it spiraled into a lot of other stuff. I got really stoned, and I did not green out or anything. I just realized I had a wall of emotion to break through. but it was terrible. it was awful, terrible, and exhuasting. I could not stop crying because every time I did, every time I stopped, I thought about myself, and how selfish and self-centered I am. how often I talk about my own problems, and how often I do not dedicate the same amount of attention to others, others I love, as I do myself. how I am a monstrous being who walks around sucking everyone dry of their sympathy, leeching off their kindness. I cry too often, I am too externally emotional. I must learn to keep it all inside me. I would feel better, I would be less ashamed.
if only, right? haha.
with a clear head, I cannot really answer if I truly believe those things anymore. parts of them, yes, but maybe not the entirety of everything I panicked about last night. I was stuck in a ball on the floor, and wednesday kept asking are you okay? are you okay? are you okay? and I told her god fuck no I am the most self-centered person in the world, all I fucking do it try to get pity points from people who care about me. all I do is talk about my problems. and she looked over at me, I looked up at her briefly. "you never talk about your problems, in fact," she frowned. "all you do avoid talking about your problems. so much so, that that is what's wrong."
I've been reading wretched of the earth, and I've been listening to the audiobook version of sister outsider. I like both, wretched of the earth in a little harder for me to get through. the prefaces are so goddamn long, but I'm almost done with sartre's preface, which means I'm also ready to get to the actual book. sister outsider is a really good book, too. I think I'm going to try and find a pdf of it so I can take some physical notes of passages I really enjoyed. lorde presents ideas of self-image in a way I never really let myself think about. . .to think of myself as an important person is something I never allowed myself to feel. but I think it is time I accept that I am. at least, to some people. the people who I love.
wednesday went to go meet a friend, but a friend she once had a thing with. I am okay with this, obviously, I did not ever think I was going to have an issue with that. and I do not, specifically with the person she's seeing. back when they were a thing, I was seeing him, too. but I was so jealous of their thing. why couldn't I have something like that, I thought. why'd I have to let some thirty year old creep get me real high and then fuck me for hours on end to feel special? I ached for a sweet, soft relationship the both of them seemed to have.
eventually, it ended, specifically when we closed our relationship again. but as you do when you are insecure about your body, you compare your body to the bodies of the people your partner has been with. and I often noted that this person was smaller than me, possibly, prettier, in a different sense. for a long time, hearing their name brought up just made me realize that I hated thinking about how there was a more attractive person out there who wanted my girlfriend, and my girlfriend wanted them, too. which is strange, obviously, considering that I am not monogamous.
I suppose I am nonmongamous, but not in practice (lol.) I have obvious self image and insecurity issues to get through before I try again. just speaking for me, personally, and I suppose wednesday has her separate issues with nonmonogamy, as well. the last time I tried it, I let people fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, but I never was in my own body, a lot of the time. haha, stupidly enough, there is an exact passage in midnight cowboy that deals with this issue. with joe's own issue with having sex. something about no one ever seeming to realize that joe buck occupied the body they were having sex with.
but I was thinking, whilst I was showering earlier, lathering my skin with soap, pinpointing the location I was going to inject testosterone in today, why do I feel this way? if I were in their position, the friend, how would I feel? I would wonder what the girlfriend (me) thought of me, if she was jealous. and I, as the girlfriend now, am. or was, I think. but not in a real way, in a self-projection manner. that I so badly want to escape. because it follows me around everywhere, all the time.
I traced my stomach, and my chest, and my hips. what is so dangerous about the body that I occupy? desirability used to kill me. to be fuckable, to be sexy, to be hot. to many people, at different times in my life. but whywhywhywhywhy. I either use my body to make myself feel better by proving to myself that others want to have sex with me, knowing full well that it'll make me feel worse, or I hide away for months, hoping that I won't catch a glimpse of my body in the mirror, where I will stand, crying, sobbing, tearing my hair out for hours on end.
today I felt like letting that go, at least for a little while. I looked down, and I thought, this is just a body. you are in your own body. a normal body, even though you often feel too fat, or are ashamed of your scarring, or even now, are feeling like a complete freak. a freak with a little t dick. you are aware of all the parts of your body, especially of the ones you hate, but why don't you let that go for now? no one is really noticing most of the time, except for you. let your guard down, wash your body, inject your testosterone, and eat some food, without thinking about how fat you are getting, y'know? just do that once, at least this once.
I cry so much thinking about how hard it is to take care myself. now, I'm taking care of bagel bite, too. which is proving to be much easier than taking care of myself. he is asleep besides me, he is purring under my hand. today I will take him to the vet, and good news! he pooped out the yarn painlessly. a stupid little kitty, my bagel bite. every day I look at him and I think, you have changed my life so much. the joy you've brought me is a kind I have never felt before.
I shaved all my purple hair off, and now I have a bluegreen buzzcut. it was too cold to do right now, but that's alright. spring is coming, and I got a lot of hats to wear. I'll be patient.
I can't feel my tongue. . .
I ate too much pineapple. I'm so fucking exhuasted. I keep getting too high all the time. I've taken edibles in a row for a series of days and now everything is all the same. I'm so fucking sad. I'm so fucking sad. I'm so fucking sad. what's the point of it all? what's the point anymore. . .how angsty. when will I learn to shut up?
I've decided to apply as a transfer student to johns hopkins. just for fun. just to see if I'll even get in. that would be real funny I think. wednesday said that my high school grades don't matter because I got straight a's for my single year at college. I don't know if I believe her. I don't even know why I'm seriously entertaining it. their film program is miniscule, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to afford it. the jhu students I've worked with were all real nice, and the post grads ones I met through him, including him, were obnoxious. but I feel like I'm already obnoxious, anyways.
my therapist emphasizes to me that I'm going through a second puberty (puberty 2, if you will) and that all this strange emotion will eventually dissolve. bottom growth is going strong, my voice is just barely starting to crack all over the place, and my desire to fuck people is ongoing. don't know why, but I keep gravitating towards butches, and towards other boygirlgirlboysboyboygirlgirls. lol. that's to assume that both of those categories don't already overlap.
there's this guy who I know who I feel like I would have a thing with if we were around each other in real life. he's real nice. I think he just broke up with his boyfriend. he's gorgeous, in that way greasy skaters are. it's funny when we first met, we were both at school, and we both knew each other as cis girls. I had him star in my final, about two girls who struggle with their sexualities & ideas of preformed femininity. I know. my whole life is satire.
I imagine visiting him in san francisco. I've been there before, a few times, visiting my family in california every other year. my favorite part of san francisco are the winds and the sea lions. I know I've only seen the extreme tourist-y part of san francisco. he sent photos of the sky in san francisco this september. dark red ash, the sunrays no where to be seen, except for the bright red burning eye in the sky. 'welcome to the apocalypse,' he wrote.
welcome to the apocalypse, indeed. I struggle with feeling like I'm not doing enough, or if I should just resign at this point. but I think giving up and not doing anything with myself is the worst thing I could do. living among the absurdity and the horrifying mess that our world has always been can be real fucked up. sometimes I tell myself this when I feel bad for having gay feelings. I would kiss him on top of a hill, before pushing him down on his skateboard, cus like baltimore, san fran has really steep hills. at least, I think. from what I remember.
wednesday's not doing amazing. I'm going to try harder to be a better girlfriend. I try not to put myself down and say, "I'm a bad girlfriend," at least not out loud, to her. I do not think that is fair of me to do to her. I just try really hard, and I feel like I am a really bad girlfriend a lot of the time. especially now, since I keep having these dumb fucking outbursts. I know my frustration affects her, sometimes, I feel like she thinks she's making it worst. she's not, though.
wednesday is the love of my life. every morning we wake up together, if I'm off, and we just roll around, kissing, and laughing. at night, she holds me snuggly as my big spoon, or I hold unto her tightly, from the back, when she's my little spoon. she carries me around and spins me and holds me close and goes out of her way to do a million little things she knows will make my day a little brighter.
I love you, wednesday.
I'm tired. I had today off and I also have tomorrow off. worked on my site for a while. proud of the progress, I think. I'm teetering on nothingness again. I feel so hopeless. it's about time I give it up. I don't know why I pretend I'm doing any better. I'm so incredibly sad.
I roll over in bed, I can feel your body's heat next to mine. you hold me from behind. I turn around and face you. smiling, we get closer. you open your mouth the kiss me. I can hear the faint tremble in your voice when you ask me, how long have you wanted me for?
a fine day. my hands hurt so bad. I lotion them often, but apparently not often enough. my fingers are cracked and bleeding. god. I forget about this part of the wintertime, quite literally every year. it was freezing cold today. and it was an alright day at work. I put the order away, trained the new girl. she's just fine. she is a bit condescending, but so are most people I train. it's pretty obvious that most times I'm younger than them, and I've trained mostly grad students. so I guess they're like 'why do you have to go over this with me I'm obviously not stupid' and I have to be like 'ok dude this is my job I'm so sorry I'm telling you what to do but also it's not as easy at is seems, sometimes.' I don't care as much as I used to, though.
bagel bite swallowed a bit of yarn, and I cried so much. the internet says he should be okay, fifty-fifty. I'm taking him to the vet for a regular check-up on wednesday, anyways, but I'm still going to moniter him. helicopter mom mode. I just don't want him to hurt. I don't want him to ever feel any pain under my care. he doesn't deserve it. I can give him a wonderful, loving life. and sometimes I'm just really worried that I'm not. I hope he knows that I love him, and that he's changed my life for the better. maybe not that whole statement, but I think, deep down, he knows I love him. he headbutts my hand and lets me rub his belly. I think he vaguely loves me, too.
not doing well. . .feeling uncomfortable, physically and emotionally. my body feels wrong and too fat. everything pokes and prods at my skin the wrong way. my hands hurt from all the cracks and tender skin. in the mirror I look, and I see a gaping hole. from the hole drips a thick, black sludge that covers the whole floor. I wish to disappear.
alright day today. woke up at 7:30 am, got to work at 9 am, which is significantly later than most of my work days. I was just training a new girl today. I decided to wear make-up today, which I never do. also, I've been putting actual efforts into some of my outfits recently. nothing fancy, I've just been coordinating my outfits a lot more, which I've never done for work before. honestly, it's fun, and also I like to hear k tell me she likes my outfits almost every time we work together now.
I came into work today and she calls out my name as soon as she sees me, I felt stupidly special. when I come out unto the floor she stops me and tells me she's making me a gift--yes, me, jo!--and I stuttered. she told me she got a pin maker and wanted to make me a pin as soon as possible. she says she'll bring it in tomorrow, if she finishes it. she told me it was surprise til then. what am I supposed to do? try not to melt into one big, dirty sludge pile?
lesbians have a subtle way of flirting, which is funny. I've come to realize that I've been building my special way of flirting with other lesbians my whole life. gay women love weird little subleties, or at least I do, and the other girls I've been with. what always weirdly works is when someone is talking to me, I'll make a point of watching them speak. I think it stands out to people who have interacted with me because I never make eye contact, so funny enough, when I hold my look at someone for a few seconds, it always has a subtle little splash of an impact. today k talked to me and I leaned against the wall, drifted my eyes up at her, which made her stop. she has light brown eyes, I've never noticed.
I love eye colors. cliche, but true. I have the typical dirt-dark brown eyes, which almost look black. I think they are just average, but I like when someone tells me they're nice to look into. my first girlfriend described my eyes as this one polish word or phrase, which I very much don't remember, that meant 'as deep as the earth.' I think that has been my favorite things ever said about my eyes.
I think eye contact is so intense and intimate. I don't even look at people straight on while we fuck, a lot of the times. I look at wednesday often, and she makes me look at her when I don't admit I'm upset. I'll catch someone's eye every now and again, but it'll always make me want to fold over and crumble. sometimes, I love it. it's so sweet to stare into someone's eyes. I love looking into peoples eyes when they're laughing, talking, singing, fucking, yelling, rambling, and whatever else you can do while staring into someone's eyes. maybe the best of all is staring into my girlfriend's eyes when we wake up.
I watched this short documentary today. it was interesting. I especially like the emphasis created by the shot body placements, which were done to compliment the audio, which was just what each lesbian was saying. like when that butch was talking about all the little sweet things she likes that femmes do, they zoomed in on her feet crossing and uncrossing, almost shyly. also when that one lesbian was staring into the lens and hunched her shoulders up and said, "I wish I was square-shouldered, I wish I looked like david byrne." that was relatable.
I don't know if t is changing my voice yet. the cracks are starting to happen more frequently. I have gained the ability to 'get hard.' I want to punch everything all at once, but especially myself. I have to sleep early tonight, for I have to go put away the order tomorrow, as usual. I don't get to leave early though. I'm training the girl again. at least she's real nice, and also another lesbian. ha ha ha. and I have k's pin to look forward to. I wonder what it is.
hello into the internet void. what do I have today to feed the endlessly gaping hole? as always, you just have me and my general, every day complaints. I opened today, and woke up with really sore ankles. I don't know why. it hasn't gotten any better. I chose not to bike, and still managed to get there on time. which, today, didn't even matter. because my opening shift was super late.
my boss went to the hospital for a rash reaction, which could be minor, but I guess she's just worried it's a lasting side-effect of covid, because she had it a few months ago. so she's isolating, which is good. I hope she is alright. I know I complain about her a lot, but obvs, she's my boss. k came to open, which ended up canceling out the annoyance I had, because I'd been standing in the cold for so long. she wouldn't stop apologizing, and I kept laughing because one, she's never late and it's funny to see someone whose so precise falter, two, she hadn't even brushed her hair or anything, she literally rolled out of bed, and three, she thought I'd be really upset at her. I was like, hey man, it's okay. it's all good. (I didn't even expect to see you until friday, so it's always nice to see you unexpected.)
k left only an hour and half after we opened together, because it was her day off. . .which sucks, for her. like, imagine your boss is like hey I need you to open the store in five hours, on your day off. apparently, she was the only one who was even up to see my boss's message to all the shifts. I never ever like to say anything personal, or showing any deeper emotion than playful friendliness, towards my coworkers. but today as k was leaving she was like, "see ya, jo, nice to see yaaaaaaa," and I just went, "wow, do you really have to go? I'll miss you," and immediately wanted to punch myself in the face. she laughed and said don't worry, you'll get your fill again tomorrow.
god fucking damn it.
testosterone is one hell of a drug (LOL.) one day I'm going to snap out of it and read these entries and groan. or maybe I won't, and I'll just laugh. it's pretty silly, all in all. I do think it's just my brain being like dude, you're super horny, and you're super bored, and you don't have any fun person-to-person contact besides maybe sometimes at work. so suddenly it becomes hard for me to be around just one of my coworkers, which I really can't stop reeling from because I want it to be OVEEEEEERRRRRRRRR.
on the floor, my coworkers wouldn't stop showing each other bernie-sanders-coat-barron-trump-home-alone-obamas-fashion-kamala-daughter memes. I would just be like ha, yeah, I saw that. I don't know. I don't care for any of those kinds of jokes, except for bernie to a certain extent. I think it's weird to call him a ~cute old man~ because he is an old american politician. which, in order to be a u.s. politician, you sort of are evil already. there's no way you could justifiably be a u.s. politician. there's just no way.
I say that and sometimes it upsets the people I'm talking to because they're like there are good politicians. which like, I guess you can argue that there are politicians with good intentions, but at this point, if you fully believe that fundamentally changing the u.s. government from the inside out is possible, that's just active denial. you cannot participate in the massive monstrousity that is the u.s. government, trying to 'fix' and system that was made to be evil, and uphold injustice by abiding by the standards its set, is just futile. you cannot fix what is not broken. but anywaaaaays. sorry. I just hate us politicians, and there's not a single one I trust. politicians are in choosing to be criticized anyways. they're supposed to be representatives of the people (fat chance), so it's not strange to constantly criticize and question a politician's character. and that's also why I can't stand ~wholesome~ bernie memes, or weird obama praise.
I go in at 9 am tomorrow, which is cool. I'm gonna lie down now and try to sleep earlier, but I'm thinking I could also make a cup of tea. who knows? alright, internet void. tonight I'll acknowledge you, and bid you a good night, sleep tight.
what a wednesday. I was off today, and I got to sleep in until nine. bagel bite started meowing for food, which I haven't heard before, because I'm never around by nine am, most of the time. but it made sense, it'd been like twelve hours since I gave him wet food, so I got up and fed the poor guy. I really love him. he lets me touch him most anywhere now, which is something I've never done with another cat. he really loves scratches under the chin. he follows me from room to room, which can range from endearing to just fucking funny. I'll go to pee and he'll stand at the door like, are you busy?
I actually watched the inauguration today, which I wasn't expecting to really do. it was so fucking weird. I don't even feel a real sense of relief with biden in office. it's all so disgusting for me. there is nothing to celebrate when it comes to the transfer of power within the us government. it feels strange to really admit it, but we are in the decline of an empire. what is hard to face is that the 'normality' that we once lived in is really never coming back. there is only continuance of denial, or terrifying realization.
and that's not to say that I think it's all fucked, forever. that kind of apathy is stupid, and also fucking damaging. where the fuck do you get with, "all of this terrible stuff is terrible and I'm just going to sit here and think about why it sucks." I know it's impossible to do anything about where we are on our own, but even if you can't personally do much, it's still harmful to believe that no change is possible. you give up on even imagining that a better world could be possible, and once you don't even try to believe in a better world, it's gone. apathy is dangerous.
I'm pretty stoned off a really strong edible, so maybe I'm just senselessly rambling. . .I have to go to sleep soon. I open tomorrow. I avoided calling oscar today, and I didn't really have a successful call with my other friend. I cried every time I tried to talk about my feelings out loud, to wednesday. I took my t-shot today, and my bottom growth is picking up the speed. dear god. my urge to fuck people is only getting stronger, and so is my desire to punch myself in the face for even having those kind of feelings in the first place. I feel like a goddamned freak. I look at my self in the mirror, and hold my own face tenderly, and trace my skin with my fingertips, and cover my eyes when I start to cry. and all I do now is cry, and cry, and cry.
falling asleep sitting up, head hurts, chest hurts, tense jaw. I don't know why I'm so miserable lately.
yerba mate of the day: mint elation
I have the worst kind of cut on my hand. my hands are already so dry and tough in the wintertime. (gross skin stuff upcoming) so dry, in fact, that sometimes my tough skin around my nail cracks open and I have this weird cut (but not really, more like a crack) on the tip of my finger, where it's just my tough skin revealing the really tender flesh under my old skin. it makes everything sting, and my finger just throbs for days on end, especially since I don't exactly have the best job to really protect my hands when my skin needs to heal.
today was alright, it was fun. I took the 95 today, and sort of regretted it. other passengers sometimes just don't wear masks. I have to sit there and try not to get so angry. how hard is it to wear a mask on public transportation. why are you forcing other people to be in the same space as you, stranger to stranger, without a fucking mask on? I'm getting to heated about this. I feel like the farther we get into this pandemic, people are just caring less. what is it with this damned apathy? especially when you know you're holding it and not letting go of it makes it so that you're actively hurting others. FUCK!
I started off the sentence with saying this day was fun, then proceeded to just be angry, lol. I worked from six to two, which sucks, because I prefer opening to staying until the shift change happens. because shift changes always take forever. I was supposed to leave at 2, but we had to stay until 2:30, just waiting for the other team to come switch over. it is always so fucking frustrating. holy shit, here I am being angry again!
it was slow again, but we all did weird little tasks that never get done. I was on bar most of the day again, and I worked with k again. that was the fun part, haha. she told me that her wife said my hand-crafted drinks were the best sbux drinks she's ever had, with her daughter, so much so, that k had to tell me from her. I just stood there, flustered, and sweaty.
we talked a lot more than I usually talk to anyone at work. I'm not a big conversationalist, but I do like talking to k. she told me she thinks about me when she listens to music, because of lot of it is grungy lesbian music from the late 90's. what's up with her and correlating me to the decade of 1990? hahaha. she told me a lot about philly, which is where she's from. I talked to her about how my friend took me around philly, and how a lot of my perceptions of philly come from it's always sunny.
it was really nice to talk to her. also I did in fact find out that she's thirty-eight. dear god. there's nothing wrong with that, I just feel so weird for being really into her. I keep being like, ok dude, get over this, this is weird, why are you feeling like this, hey, man, just stop thinking about it. and then I'm like ooooohhhh goooooddddddd aahhhhahhahahhahhhhhh. and then I'm like, is it just the testorone coursing through my body and straight into my--
I took a nap after work, as per usual nowadays. naps in the winter feel like you sleep in a different plane of existence than most other naps, other times of the year. I just feel like I always go deeper(?) into the sleep state in the winter. I got stoned and worked on my midnight cowboy page, and on a new site button. I think I finally like my new one. I'm almost done with my midnight cowboy page, too!! I'm so happy. I think I will watch it again, soon.
I think perhaps, next, I'll do go fish. I don't think I'll go as in depth with any other films as I have done with midnight cowboy, but, hey, who knows. I always have way too much to say about things. I have to sleep soon, I open tomorrow. I have my t-shot in about a day and a half. I've been looking at myself naked a lot recently. no good but no bad comes of it. I just stare and stare at my skin and curves and dips and folds and hair and scars.
maybe if I try hard enough, I'll step out of this body one day. but this body is always changing. the one that I hated and the one I've been hurt in is no longer going to exist one day. it'll be an entirely different body, in both ways. either with chopping and sewing, or just the fact that eventually, all your current body's cells will die and be replaced entirely. did you know that if I get to get my breast reduction, I could lose sensation in my nipples? sad world.
yerba mate of the day: orange exuberance
today was alright. I opened at work, my shift K told me I looked like some girl from the '90s (don't remember her name.) it was so incredibly slow today. K's wife actually came in. I don't know what I expected, but for some reason I thought she would also be butch? but she just looked like a soccer mom, but still pretty. seeing K talk to her wife was really strange, but in a good way. we've worked together almost a year and half together now, and I had never met her wife. I don't even think she's met wednesday. I say all this is weird because we constantly talk about our respective girlfriends and wives to each other.
I had to look K's wife in the eyes while I made her drink and her child a drink while thinking wow, I defintely don't think about your wife in gay way at all, no, no way. quite sobering. I got to go home an hour early, I was pretty happy. I took the lightrail home and ate a bag of haribo happy cherries for lunch (yes, my stomach hurt, I am an idiot.) wednesday went driving for a few hours, I napped that whole time. bagel bite slept at my feet, and kept them warm. what a sweet baby. he also pooped the bed today. but that was only because wednesday left the bathroom door open all morning. where else was he supposed to go?
I worked on my midnight cowboy page for a long while today. I'm almost done. I still feel very dorky for putting so much effort into it. I love midnight cowboy so much, but I feel very annoying when I talk about it. although, my url is literally the name of the main character, joe buck, and my name is jo (not influenced by midnight cowboy, just a fucking hilarious conincidence.) I dug in some of my old journals from the past year to find some notes I wrote whilst reading the novel, but I found entries I wrote exactly one year ago.
Some bit and pieces I'm choosing to document:
I'm much stronger than I used to be. I've fulfilled my promise to myself.
a cold, wet, morning in the middle of january. . .I biked up the hill today and thought of nothing, not even about how bad my thighs were burning at the moment. I looked up at the empty roads and zoomed on the streets in ways I could never in the middle of the day. I bike right through all the red lights, I switch between lanes, I take up as much of the road as I want. for those beloved twenty five minutes, the whole neighbourhood of hampden is mine.
I got home around late eight, early nine am. I did not do much today, but I did most of the things I intended to, put away laundry, bleach eyebrows, work on website. I worked on fixing my background images to fit any screen background without cutting off, or repeating. I also checked my website on my girlfriend's computer, who uses a dell laptop with google chrome, where as I use safari on a mac laptop (I know, I want a pc again.) I tried fixing the elements on my interests page so that they wouldn't overlap, and I was meaning to resize all the paragraphs, and move around the movie and album icons.
I want to make an index for my website, if it ever grows big enough. I could use it as just my journal, but then again, I am tempted to upload old zines and photographs on here. I was going to try developing some film at home this week, and if I'm sucessful, I'll start a photographs page. a lot of mine recent photography is just self portraiture, but not all of it. mostly just weird pictures of me trying to look more masculine in order to relieve my weird dysphoria.
I worked on my midnight cowboy. . .shrine? I guess I don't consider it a real, good shrine because there are no awesome flashing gifs in it or anything, but it is a shrine. I don't know why I put off working on that page for a while, but I'm very happy about the way it's looking. I'm going to revisit my favorite passages from the novel tomorrow, so I can write about it on my page. aaaa. I feel so dorky for being so excited to make a webpage that only like, three people will read, probably. but that's okay, it's mostly just for me.
I'm going to bed soon. I have to open with my shift K (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) and on sundays we open an hour later, meaning I can sleep for a whole other hour, too! whoop-di-doo. but those two things combined are pretty sweet. I have to stay until one though. I have a new trainee coming it, but I'm not sure if it's tomorrow, or the next week. I cannot imagine being trained by me. I don't think I'm a very good trainer, so I'm sorry to everyone I've trained. I'm sorry if I did not set you up for success.
I'm excited to call oscar tomorrow. he went out of his way to ask me, which made me feel important. I'm probably going to tell him about my new interest in coding this website, but I don't want to share this page. not that I think he would push me to tell him, so that's cool. also, my brother texted me back! it turns out he was just busy between finishing his last fucking semester of high scool (I feel so fucking old!) and his new t-shirt business, that it was hard for him to keep up. I reassured him it was totally okay, as of course, I am not stranger to that. I guess we were two apples that didn't fall too far from each other when we fell from the tree.
I was just wondering if anyone reads these. they're very personal entries, more personal than I first intended. I try not to come off as a very emotional person, so if you just know who I am through journal entries, it would probably be pretty different, ha. I wish I could talk as openly as I write on here. it's probably just easier to write here because it's so anonymous, unless you're aaron, who knows me in real life, for real. the real deal. I'm stoned on a friday night, like god intended. I'm probably going to sleep soon, I have to. I go in when they open tomorrow to do the order, once again. I can hear the rain falling outside, hopefully the roads aren't too wet tomorrow morning.
I woke up earlier than I usually do on day off. I fed bagel bite his dry food, and then did our weekly chores. dishes, sweeping all three rooms, collecting trash, cleaning the bathroon, and handwashing the rest of my laundry. at first I didn't like it, but now I do enjoy handwashing my clothes. it feels, weirdly, more personal, and like I'm building a stronger relationship with my articles of clothing (???) I just appreciate them more. I don't like having lots of unnecessary clothing, it's stressful, and why have all that stuff if you won't even wear half of it?
my emotions are shifting, I think. I dunno. I get so angry so fast lately. and if not angry, extremely annoyed. sometimes for things that wouldn't usually even bother me. and then, after getting so angry, I just burst into sobs. it doesn't help that lately I keep thinking I'mafreakI'mafreakI'mafreakI'mapervertedfuckingfreak all the time. noises overstimulate me, people overstimulate me, I overstimulate myself, haha.
oscar asked me to call him soon, probably over video. I would like to talk to him eventually. since resurfacing in my life, his presence has been kind. it is really strange that after only knowing one another for a school semester, essentially three and half months, he still contacted me and said he was sorry for leaving suddenly, and that I made an impact on his life. I didn't even consider that he was still thinking of me for so long.
he was my only friend my first semester of college. I met wednesday that last week of our first semester, and sylvia and I started being attached at the hip our second semester. our relationship was strange, but it worked, I think. I remember when we first met, I was in the laundry room, y'know, doing laundry, and he came up to me and complimented my shirt. it was one of those oh, fuck, I'm a freshman in college and I know you are too and I'm so lonely and nervous please be my friend moments--and that includes both of us, haha. I was so fucking nervous that first week.
I saw him again in the elevator and he started talking to me about film, because he knew that was my major and he called me by my name, and I didn't even remember him until he told me where we met. I was busy trying to figure out if he was gay. he had a tote bag and lace up doc marten shoes, so pretty ambiguous, especially if you're a studio art major at nyu. at that point I was like ok, there's a weird kid who keeps talking to me whenever we bump into each other, I just hope he's not too weird.
later that week, I saw that mac demarco (I know. . .) was playing at summerstage in central park, and I decided I was going to go, because you can basically just sit outside of the stage, since it's out in the park. while you can't see the artist, you can hear them clearly, and sort of see their lighting. I did actually see mitski there, september 2019, which means I heard mac demarco september 2018. jesus fucking christ, time flies by, doesn't it.
he somehow found me on instagram, which did make me very suspicious. turns out I was very easy to find (???) I didn't have any to come with me to the concert, and so I took a risk, that should've ended stupidly. I dm'ed him and asked if he'd come with me to central park. he said yes, and we went together, and it was really nice. it's probably one of my favorite memories whilst living in new york city. we talked a lot that night, laughing in central park. I remember when I first mentioned I was a lesbian, cautiously waiting for him to say he's gay, too.
turns out he wasn't. he was straight. he didn't realize I was gay, which at that point, sort of made sense? he then reevaluted my look and said, "the fact that you've consistently dressed like someone's dad should've told me you were gay." I told him there was no way he looks straight wearing that tote bag. we laughed at each other. my birthday was a week or so later. we got drunk on a bottle of wine (what a fucking lightweight I used to be) and laughed even more.
that time, when we woke up, he was spooning me. that's where it's a bit strange. I had actually never had a close relationship with a boy before, without being harassed or co-erced. I was nervous that there would be something weird, and I'd have to just stop talking to him. but no, he was fine. he woke up and groaned because he was real hung over. so was I. we'd hang out in the park, and people would think we were dating, which was also weird, because that never happened to me before either.
halloweekend happens, and he stands me up for some reason or another. I try not to take it personally, I hadn't known him for that long. I get crossed with michelle, and he comes back to my dorm sometime around 11, where I'm stoned as fuck, and savina is drunk as fuck. I don't remember if he was, but I remember walking back with him to his dorm upstairs. we talked outside his door, and briefly, just for a second, there was talk about romantic feelings.
our relationship got really strange from there, but it evened out, sometimes. we went to museums together, ate a lot of meals together, pulled allnighters, and I even met his mom. I thought I had just made a really close friend. he tells me he's taking a break in the spring, for mental health reasons, and he'll be back later. we talk for a month after he leaves, then he just drops off the face of the earth.
I was really upset at first, but I let it go. obviously, I got caught up in the whirlwind of falling in love with wednesday, and making new friends my second semester. I assumed that I reminded him of a part of his life he didn't want to remember. life just. . .went on. I felt weird being upset about it after so long, so I didn't think about him at all. unfortunately, I do have that kind of self-restraint just drilled in my head.
he just sent me a letter out of the blue one day, and said a whole bunch of apologies, and over and over he wrote, "sorry, I feel like an ex trying to win you back," lol. we called, and it was good in a way I didn't let myself think about for a long time. we aren't close enough to call weekly or anything, but we sometimes talk about the big things we think about every day, and all the little stupid things in between. we're at similar spots in our lives. one day I will go to portland, and one day he will come to baltimore.
baltimore is my home now. I live in maryland. I never thought I'd leave new york for good. but I did, and I'm here, and everything I know before me has only been familar to me for only a short while, so far. even my girlfriend hasn't known me longer than two years. but I'm here. and I'm going to be here for a while, I think. maybe I'll take a train somewhere, quietly, one day, all by myself, slipping away into oblivion.
hello. . .currently my stomach is growling in a wicked way. I didn't eat in the morning, and even afternoon, until probably 4 pm. I just forgot to at work, and then I came home and fell asleep for a while. I did get up eventually, and I ate three slices of a pizza pie I ordered last night, but didn't even touch. I keep getting strong hunger pains, then getting food, and completely losing my appetite. it is not fun, because even when I do eat, my stomach is like, no, I didn't like that either. I'll probably get over it soon, I just think I've been napping over my regular meal times way too much. I need to buy more fruit to snack on. I'll probably try for tomorrow, since I'm off work! TGIF, am I right?
today was actually a pretty good one. I woke up to open again, however. . .I did not feel like biking (I know!! I should've.) I took a lyft, which was okay. I had this weird discount on my phone that made all my rides 50% off, so I managed to give my driver a bigger tip than I can usually afford. I say weird because they didn't give me a reason for why they gave it me, it was just there. oh, well. I worked until 11:15 am today, which again, pretty sweet.
opening was okay, it was with my shift M, who I love. I don't say that about just any coworker. my shift M is special, they are the only other non-binary person (whose out, I guess) at my job, and they trained me when I first started. they did a really good job of helping me adjust, and they even tell me that they're proud of me, and they're proud of being my trainer! and it's funny now, because I'm a trainer, too, and my training style is just me ripping off them, which is just like a "hey, everything here runs weirdly, not too uptight, but here's what you technically need to know."
my boss came in with terrible menstrual cramps, which usually I wouldn't care much for, besides understanding that that kind of pain can be unbearable. (it's going to get gross for a few sentences) I was like, "oh, yeah, no problem, sorry about it all," and then I went to the bathroom and saw that she left her fucking bloody napkins everywhere. what the fuck? ! ? ! I came out and sheepishly told my shift M there were biohazards in the bathroom, and they said, "pretend you didn't tell me anything, and tell [our boss] right now." and so I did that, weirdly embarrased, and she looked absolutely horrified, which granted, I understand, too. but seriously, I don't think it is that hard to clean up your bloody napkins in the bathroom, especially if it's a shared employee bathroom. ugh.
I was on bar for most of the day, blah blah blah. I've been trying being nicer to customers (lol) but it's hard when they're all so fn rude, and don't want to wear masks correctly. also there are so many nurses who come in and get mad at us when we ask them to wear their masks correctly. I always think but you're a nurse. . .oh well. I kept thinking about my shift K, who likes to put me on bar with my shift N, who was actually with me on bar, today. however, K always positions me on mobile order bar, meaning the one where I don't have to talk to customers at. I'm swooning. she's the only one who does that for me, but also very much under the pretense of, "jo, you're just not that friendly most of the time." which, fair, but also, who can really blame me? she certainly doesn't.
she orders a large iced coffee with three shots of espresso on her days off. or a large iced chai tea latte with soymilk. when she's at work, or coming it, it's six espresso shots over ice, and a splash of vanilla sweet cream. I remember mostly everyone's orders, coworker or customer. of course, my brain struggles with retaining a lot of stuff, except the most benign fucking information like, what my shift K orders based on multiple factors that day. that, and also I just like to make her stuff before she orders, so that it's out real fast, and she calls me her "hero." whateveeeeer. this sounds like I have a crush on her, I'm realizing, but I don't. not a real one, I just like her lots. there's no way I should actually like her, because she's my coworker, fifteen years older than me and. . .uh. haha.
it's been like three weeks on t. my body is changing, and so are my emotions. I cried about it again today. bottom growth is strange, and almost horrifying, but I'm very excited, and much happier with it than I originally expected. I thought I'd mostly be apathetic, but as I'm quickly learning, there are no aspects of this experience that I'm mostly apathetic about. everything comes with feelings, ugh.
I'm really excited to see my body change, even though it's so jarring and foreign and scary to my brain, at first. and there is this weird sense of grief (my therapist helped me understand this) of letting go of my old self (?) and accepting that I'm changing forever. which you would think, duh, of course you're changing, why are you so upset with that if that's ultimately what this whole process is about. and yes, that's true. I hate myself a lot for being upset a lot of time, but it's not about what is going to come from my transition, I guess.
it is about feeling so incredibly lonely during this huge turning point of my life. specifically when it comes to my family, and even more so, my parents. although, my brother still hasn't texted me back. it's been over two weeks. god. I wish I just had a family member to help me through this, I wish I had a parent I could talk to, who would support me, and tell me it'll all be okay, and that they're proud of me. I haven't even told wednesday's mom I'm on t.
I didn't go on t for a long time because in my head, I thought that if I ever physically transitioned, it would be the actual death of any chance I had of having a relationship with my parents. the whole gay thing was obviously not cool with them at all, just imagine if they knew that I'm on hrt and getting my tits chopped off. they would think I'm a freakish monster--or maybe I'm projecting (I don't think I am, I think they just taught me to feel this way.) and there's no way to counter that if I am transitioning. I think I just have to accept that we're never going to talk again, and we're probably never going to have a relationship again. and honestly, even if we do, I know it wouldn't be a real one. I know for a fact that they would never accept me this way. they're too fucking brainwashed by their relgious cult to even look up and realize how they've hurt people around them (namely, their children.)
t is also making it so that I remember I'm not monogamous, we are now, for the time being because of personal issues and also covid. I did have a few non-monag (lol) flings a few months ago, but they weren't worth it at all. I'm glad they're all over. I do regret it all. I guess I'm not really into loving, or being in love with more than one partner (my beloved wife) but I am into a lot of people in. . .uh, other ways. obviously, there's sexual, but sometimes there's that fun, weird tension that pulls you to certain people. god fuck, though. I keep looking at people who I've known for a while, but suddenly seeing them in this new light where I'm like. . .huh. . . how come I've never realized how--
all this stuff is making me feel a bit like a freak. or not just a bit, like a whole fuckton. freaky jo. monstrous jo. eek, is that jo?! my stomach is still growling weirdly. I have to go sleep, I think.
strange day. . .today. I biked to open at my job once again (and will again tomorrow, ugh) and stood in the cold while my butt was numb again. my shift n was on time, I just miscalcuted my ride and made it there earlier than expected. when I first started biking, it took me 35 minutes, but now, even when it feels like I'm going so slow because my thighs are on fire, the ride is about 20-25 minutes. biking would be easier, as well, if my body wasn't trying to desperately keep my body warm in thirty degree, windy weather, but alas. my body must function properly.
it was a good day at work today. I opened, and got the special privelege of leaving at eleven a.m.! that's what our hours were like pre-covid, I got up to open at four, and managed to always leave around 11-12 pm. for a while, because we were so understaffed, most of my 4ams extended til 1pm, which is the literal worst.
I was on bar, but it's not really that busy anymore, so I just screwed around with my coworkers. my coworker c talked to me about her weird problem where she "knows I like girls, sexually and romantically, and I think I could fuck a guy, but never date him, which is why I'm probably bisexual, but don't want to label it yet." and she has all the power to do that, but I guess she was trying to get my opinion. I was always going to tell her that it would be up to her no matter what, but I've been there before. that's not what you really want to hear, but what you want to hear is just something you haven't admitted yet. honestly, there are so many lesbians I know who have said the same exact words she has, right before accepting that they're dykes, but I wasn't about to say, "oh, obviously you're a lesbian!" at the end of day, who knows? no one does, but her.
I got home, did some medication pick-up and hand washed laundry. I took another edible, but only half--only to remember I had a therapy appointment later that day. I did my third t-shot, and I cried out of stress, but it's all good. . .ah. this is body progression stuff I probably want to document, anyways. one effect of t that I didn't think was going to happen so soon was bottom growth. with the increased (holy fuck, is it increased) libido, I kind of figured it out when I was like, huh. that doesn't feel the same. and then I was like, oh fuck. then I obviously went to reddit dot com, and learned that it is a thing that is super common, and happens pretty quickly & intensely for some people. I did find it jarring at first, I think mostly because I wasn't ready. it's not something I was exactly excited for, but now I think it's okay. it'll be nice. I just hope it isn't as uncomfortable as most of the experiences I read today. one can only hope.
I was high during therapy, but it was fine because we were just reviewing my top surgery behavioral health letter. I cried when she read it, though, but she didn't know, probably because it was online. just hearing someone's perspective of me, outside my own head, was just so weird. the part that really got to me was when the therapist said, "jo is from long island, and grew up in new york. they lived with two parents, and a sibling. jo has expressed that their mother was physically abusive, citing previous arrests, and both parents were emotionally abusive. jo has cut off contact with them for about a year and a half now. jo has completed one year at nyu for filmmaking, and hopes to return to school at some point in the near future. jo works a full-time food service job, and supports themselves completely. . ."
it was just so fucked up to hear my life detailed for concisely into little sections. I wasn't ready to hear a lot of abuse that I had described to my therapist to be referenced so explicitly in the letter. I understand why (the reason is fucked) but I just wasn't ready. and I also hate realizing that I am jo. I am jo to everyone. people know me, think about me, remember me, and have feelings about me. how can that be? why is that happening?
I guess just hearing "jo is from long island . . ." just got me strangely emotional. when did I get here? when did I put my head down and wake up in baltimore? last winter I would walk the dark sidewalks at night and smoke cigarettes and cry, probably dizzy from sobbing and smoking simulteanously. if I was alone, I'd just repeat, "where am I, why am I here, why'd I get so lost," over and over and over, until I stopped and moved on. and now I'm here for good. it's not because I'm stuck, it's because I want to, but I dunno. I can't be jo. that can't be me.
I tricked everyone into liking me somehow, and I'm just waiting for all of them to see right through my knotted web of lies.
yet again... another tuesday night, huh? today was a slightly better day because I was more distracted, I think. I biked today, waiting outside sucked because my opener was *drum roll* my boss! and she is always late. my butt was numb but it was okay, it wasn't that long. january and february are the store's slowest months, so lately, work has kind of just been standing around, and luckily, we all 'get along' that we all joke around with each other non-stop.
I worked with my shift K today, which was a nice surprise despite the awkward realization I came to. I think partially it may just be my brain trying to make something up because I'm bored at work (and maybe in general.) I dunno. I was also reading (on reddit, lol) about people who go on t and realize they're not straight/bi, just gay, or vice versa. and not that I was scared of that happening because I'm pretty sure I am a lesbian, it's just that I didn't really realize that t would make me face my attraction to others a lot more than I've ever been used to. so if before I thought someone was cute, I'd be like, "oh, cute person," but now I feel like I'm like "ooOOooOOooh... cute person." does that make sense? maybe not.
I did the tips, and I'm worried I messed up because one of my coworkers texted me asking if I saved the tip calculation sheet I use (which I did not.) she noticed she worked an hour less than one of my shifts, and got paid a good chunk less than they did. but I do think it probably was my boss' fault when inputing hours on the tip sheet. I hope so. I really hate doing important things incorrectly, especially when I really enjoy doing them. the tip rate was shit this week, too, probably because we're so slow. it was 76c/hr, when it's usually around at least $1/hr.
I got some cranberry kombucha, biked home, took an edible, but. . .on an empty stomach. it was fine for a while, but they I got really messed up, and not that it was too much (okay, maybe it was) but it was just overwhelming for a while. dnd happened today, but I didn't join. today I used the excuse that I was too stoned, but I don't know. maybe I'll just quit soon, who am I kidding. I want to talk less and less to everyone I know. I don't even care for phone calls anymore. I don't hate anyone, and no one did anything wrong. I just want to disappear from everyone's mind. it would take the pressure off of existing.
I'm high again, but just off bud. for sleep, mostly. I fell asleep for two or three hours a bit ago, but I have to sleep again because I open again tomorrow. it's my shift N, who honestly, is also pretty great. there are no bad shifts, except my boss whose not even a shift, but even then she's okay. they're all fine. everyone's fine.
I'm on my fourth earl grey of the day. I'm going to bed pretty soon, so it'll be my last. I go back to work tomorrow, and I'm opening, too. woo-hoo. I like all my possible opening shifts, though, although I'm kind of hoping it'll be my shift K. but I love my shift M, and they're always the best at opening. my shift K is no where as efficient, but she's super nice to me and constantly tells me that she likes working with me, which, I don't know. I don't know if this is weird, but I like the reassurance. it's depressing that I feel like I'm only worth something as a person when it comes to my food service job, but it's whatever. I have a small crush on my shift. which is really weird, but I'll probably snap out of it, soon.
maybe it's the testorone making me unreasonably horny and attracted to random people in my life. lol. my relationship to sex this past year has been so fucked up, that it's funny to me when I freak out about realizing that I'm actually attracted to someone. I talked about this a few entries back, I think, but a lot of the times I'm so passive and avoidant, that when someone makes the first move on me, I always go, hey, whatever, sure, instead of actually thinking "am I only into this person because they're putting in the effort to make me feel wanted by them?"
my attraction to people is weird, especially when a lot of time I'm thinking of myself as a girl & also a trans masculine person. a transmasc lezzie dyke girlboy boygirl stupidgenderfuck. I am a girl, and I don't even care anymore if that's what cis people see me as, too. because even if people assume I'm a cis girl, I'm gender-non-conforming, which honestly, sucks more than when I used to present more 'feminine' and just straight-up tell people I was non-binary. being a boyish-girl has always sucked in the end.
from being beat up by my parents for never being the 'ideal girl,' (although their ideas of femininity were way more restrictive and oppressive than current ideas of femininity now) to being told by multiple men throughout my life that they fantaszied about turning me "at least bi," (and even when they 'got' me, it was a fun game because I wasn't a 'normal' girl) to just being treated like an invisible being at work by customers who don't deem me attractive enough to harrass. which, that last one, I prefer. I would rather be ugly and left alone, than called sweetheart and want to immediately punch something.
when I was younger and men didn't like me, it would scare me. especially when it was because I was talking with confidence, or not responding well to their strange compliments and touches. and it scares me now, but now it's even more strange because I'm no longer as desirable, I'm more tainted and unwanted, and it makes me laugh, and laugh, and laugh, because I'm free. I'm free from their clutches, in one sense. they're angry because they know I'm never even going to consider being available to them. because at the end of the day, it's not about if I'm pretty enough to fuck, it's about how likely I am to want to fuck them and serve them for some kind of pleasure.
"if you're a lesbian, you can't be cis," is something my friends and I joke about, but I do sort of think there's some to truth to that. obvi you can be, I guess, but if you think about the lesbian identity and it's relationship to womanhood. . .that's a whole other post I could probably make a page out of. my "why cis lesbians aren't real" page, on my personal website, right above my journal link.
god, I feel really stupid writing this out, but this is my journal so I virtually can say whatever I want without feeling any shame. this is what this online journal is here for. all this gender and sexuality shtick. but also that holyshitIcannotstopthinkingabouthowfuckinghotbutchesare. (rough hands, big boots, sweet words)
that's enough. I have to get to sleeping, cus I have work in about six hours. woohoo!
I don't know how I'm tired. or how I'm this tired. it's been a rough day.
yesterday I woke up for work, and biked up at 4 am, per usual. I put the order away, but it was only really a few stacks of boxes. I took my sweet time, and just organized the general back of the house. by the time I was really finished, everyone for the morning shift had already arrived, meaning there were seven other people there working besides me. another overschedueled saturday. I got to go home early, as always, because I'm just the weekly stocker.
the ride home was pretty smooth, 8 am, still fucking freezing cold. my hands are cracking from how dry my skin gets. I always forget to lather up with lotion and to wear gloves. I stupidly endure the pain every morning--I've got to get a good pair of gloves. I got home and pretty much just got stoned and watched reality tv, re-read some junji ito comics, and watched low budget horror animations. I dunno. it felt like one of those days when I used to be really depressed, throughly, soaked in god-awful, neverending bouts of self-hate and sadness.
I didn't go to work today, either, and I actually have the day off tomorrow. sweet little break, huh? today I woke up around 9:30 am, and decided to redeem a free drink reward from dunkin donuts, because it was expiring in a few days. I got a large french vanilla iced coffee with oatmilk. even though I work for literally the biggest coffee chain in the world (and get endless free drinks from them) I still prefer dunkin donuts over anything. probably nostalgia working at its hardest. my father and I used to get coffee together at the one by our house every saturday. those were the best memories I have with him, and those are probably the only positive ones that still exist.
I just worked on my site a lot today, which was actually very fulfilling. my new interests page can be seen here. I just stare and focus on my screen for a long period of time, and I forget to really think about anything else. I check twitter pretty often on my days off, but today, it just kept on making me feel worse, and worse. and not because the content sucks, or everyone on there sucks, or blah blah blah. it just made me feel lonely again.
everyone I used to at least have a daily conversation with over text doesn't really keep up with me anymore. or, honestly, it's just fucking me. I can't text anyone back, at least not seriously. texting and calling only go so far, and I get really caught up in this feeling of realizing that I can just fall back into silence and infrequent reminders and become as guarded as I've always hoped I could be. I worked so hard to open myself back up to realize that I'm at a point where I could just clam up for good, this time.
I listened to a talk on restorative justice today. wednesday did, too, which I'm glad, because I think the talk benefitted her personally. they spoke a lot about healing, in terms of healing yourself, your community, and what to do when the hurt comes from you. "often times," one of the speakers (stas, I believe) "the separation between abusers and the abused is not real." and I know that may come off as some stupid "hurt people hurt people" rhetoric which is used to justify people's actions, but I don't think it is.
I guess I just think it's important to consider the fact that acts of harm caused by others have to be dealt with somehow. they talk about this in the discussion some more, that althought it's okay to set boundaries and recognized when you're triggered, you can't always just back away and choose not to engage. you have to, in order to grow, because in the end, you're just screwing yourself over by avoiding it all. and they also talked a lot about thinking about the fact that it is impossible to avoid hurting others, as you move through life, eventually we all will hurt someone, especially those that we love.
it's just a matter of what tools we have at hand, that will be able to help us recognize how we've hurt someone, why we hurt someone in that way, and what you can do to move forward with them, and learn how to resolve the issue at hand (if it can be resolved, which is a whole other thing.) anyways, yeah, I've been doing a lot of thinking about hurting, hurting myself, and hurting others.
bagel bite has a bump on his head, I freaked out. it could just be a benign lump or skin tag, but I will definitely ask his vet about it. he's been so cuddly lately. I love him so much. I wonder if he knows how much he's changed my life for the better. my brother hasn't texted me back, it's been two weeks. and I've stopped messaging that fucking creep back, in the mean time, too. who knows, though? maybe I'll feel lonely enough to give him a call. I hope not, though.
about to pass out. . .spent whole day in a drug induced haze, I'm so high I can barely keep my eyes open. either I'll write a daily entry tomorrow morning or have an extra long entry tomorrow night. I'll be awake then.
the only exception by paramore just came on shuffle, so that's pretty much how I'm feeling this friday night. especially, "And up until now I had sworn to myself / That I'm content with loneliness / Because none of it was ever worth the risk." then comes but you are the only exception. . . except there is no exception right now. I do think I've convinced myself I'm content with loneliness. and maybe I'm not actually convinced if I'm aware of it and how bad I feel because of it.
another work day, bad cramps, a lot of avoidance in my own head. did you know my personality type is avoidant? it's pathetic, really, that most of the people who know me personally can actually characterize me as an avoidant person. sometimes I'd rather kill myself than actually do something, say something, or start something. I started noticing with small things, like never being bold enough to ask someone if they'd want to talk to me or do an activity with me (as a child) and then later, and later, I just got used to jumping around in a way that would never require me to be especially confrontational.
every single relationship I've been in, romantic or sexual (and sometimes platonic), all are based off the fact that someone else acknowledged something between us, or asked to do something, first. rest in peace to anyone who's liked me and just never got to tell me because I refused to be like, "hey, do we have something going on?"
I got home and collapsed in bed and felt especially weird. when I left work that day, I actually felt bad leaving. I saw a bunch of my coworkers who I'm friendly with, and we were all joking, and talking, and gossiping. usually I can't wait to get the fuck out of there, but this time, my brain was like, "it feels so good to laugh with people who you know." and when I came home, the apartment was empty, because wednesday was at her driving lesson. I really didn't want to be alone, and maybe half a year ago, I would've broken down real bad, but this time around, I just decided to take another edible. lol.
sue me, I tell myself. I don't know if I should take another tomorrow. they pretty much render me useless as I lie and sleep and fall deep into weird little mindscapes I make up in my head to distract myself from a lot of things that I don't actually want to admit bother me. like today, I really, really did not want to be alone. even now, I'm sitting next to a person, and yet I still feel so fucking alone. it's just my stupid brain.
I was sitting in the kitchen stoned earlier, I made banana bread, wednesday came home, I almost cried because I felt so ugly I didn't want her to look at me. how stupid is that? I just had this sudden terrible feeling, and I realized that I've never been happy looking at myself. not that I can remember. anytime I feel attractive, it's never been in a way I feel good about. it's all a fucked up performance. I cannot believe I'm still recovering from stupid mistakes I made when I went through 'a manic episode that involved impulsive sexual behavior and different measures of self harm,' as my therapist said then, back last year. I know nothing resolves itself quickly, god, do I know that. so many things make my head hurt.
I've never felt pretty because being pretty feels dangerous, and it also feels like something I've accepted I'll never achieve. I used to feel pretty when I satisfied someone sexually, and I don't know how or why I managed to do it. all it's given me is a headache and a weird series of memories that crawl into head every day, in different ways, all the time. and now I feel like without a purpose, I'm just ugly and terrible to look at, and I just want to disappear. I don't want to be looked at ever again. and I mean it.
it's probably why I hate eye contact. I only look wednesday in the eyes. everyone else I cannot willingly, if I'm sober. if I'm sober I can't do a lot of things. when I'm sober I can't talk to anyone, when I'm drunk, I can talk to anyone, and when I'm high I can talk to someone, probably, if I'm not falling asleep.
rereading this entry as I'm typing it makes me face something that I hate to admit, but I kind of owe it to myself right now. I don't know. this feels so stupid, I want to cry. as much as I want it to be over, and as much guilt as I feel over it for letting so many things happen to me, I'm not over so much stupid sexual trauma I have accumulated. this summer was just an awful realization, an ugly fucked up realization rearing it's fucking hideous face. you know what's great, too? testosterone is already affecting my sex drive! and it makes me want to have more of it! and somehow, the more I want it, the more I want to skin myself!
I'm so sorry. this isn't a good night. I can barely look at myself without wanting to cry, I hate myself infinitely for having so many complicated feelings, and I feel like I have a giant cigarette butt rubbing against my chest, boring a hole right through me. I keep saying I've been doing so good! so good! so good! so good! so good! and my medications do help to an extent, but it is completely like:
I can't even go smoke a fucking cigarette anymore. I have to keep tobacco out of system from the moment I have a consultation, which, by the fucking way, I'm pretty sure I can't even go to on monday!!! because I couldn't get all the documents I needed there fast enough!!! because I kept fucking postponing it!!! yeah!!! woohoo!!! I just want to give up on everything and just go back to what I'm familiar with. giving up, and hiding away.
giving up, hiding away, saying less, and taking up less space. is there not a single one of those things that I can do?
a lot of time was spent in my head today. I biked to work early in the morning, and on the final uphill stretch I had to go up on, I almost threw up. it was strange, nothing like that usually happens to me, but on the ride up, and even the ride back home today in the afternoon, I was in pain from the amount of ache that my muscles were going through. I was so fucking confused, until I got home and realized I got my period. god, I fucking hate my menstrual cycle. my doctor is actually aiming to raise my dosage until my period stops, because one of my main points is to use it as a blocker for my cycle. she did not fail to emphasize that I could still very much get pregnant.
work was alright, same old, same old. I almost collapsed this morning from fatigue, but I didn't want to worry anyone so I just chugged water in the back and forced myself to just keep going. I biked home, after getting some food from mom's, and immediately went to lie down. the greek potatos I got from mom's weren't my favorite, but it was alright, because wednesday really liked it, and in a way, I feel better about buying her actual good food, than buying myself food that isn't dirt cheap. bagel lied with me for the ten minutes I lied down before washing my greasy (oily, disgusting) skin and decided to take an edible.
I got a pack of 10mg thc/10mg cbd gummies and I took an entire dose (hesistantly) and immediately went to sleep. when I woke up from my nap, I was full blown fucked up. but it was nice. the highest I've been in a while without all the usual anxiety. I seriously do think lithium just blocks the usual bad parts of weed consumption for me. I was high for a long while, and didn't really do much but eat dried apricots and play with my cat.
I get to sleep in tomorrow. I have to go in at 7 am, but that means I have to stay until 2 pm, instead of 1 pm. . .sad. my shift K is there tomorrow. now, I had a chilling realization about my shift K. I think I am actually attracted to her. I just needed to say it. everyone's always joking about how I'm her favorite, and how we get along so well, and one time she implied that I was her work wife. I say all this like I seriously am considering something. obviously not, it's just fucking hilarious that the one person I've ever thought was legitmately attractive at my job, was the one 40 year old butch lesbian whose always complimenting me.
I don't talk to a lot of people anymore. sometimes I wonder if I should've kept all my socials besides twitter, because I'm coming to realize that a lot of the people who used to check up on me were just doing it when they were reminded of my existence through an instagram photo or snapchat. that sounds condescending, but I guess I'm just frustrated that I'm craving that kind of validation that means absolutely nothing. maybe that's why I keep talking to him now. I miss talking to people in real life. I miss so much. I'm falling asleep while typing, so, goodbye.
this was a day. I think I do not really need to elaborate. I think this entry is going to be short. I went to work, got tired, had a really bad mood swing, took my second testosterone shot, and it hurt really fucking bad. I left chase brexton and found out about capitol hill. we've kind of just been following it since then from our phones, until wednesday decided to call parker. I have to go to sleep soon, because I open. this past year, there are so many times where I keep thinking, "wow, this is so fucked up, and also I have to go to work tomorrow." tomorrow I will go to work at 4:00 am and brace myself for a nine hour shift of absolute bullshit. I don't know if I'd rather no one acknowledge it, or if I'd rather everyone bicker about the events that took place. I guess I will just have to wait and see what tomorrow holds.
my brother hasn't texted me back in a week. I am worried. he has been texting me frequently, though. I hate that I cannot help but respond. there is a stupid, stupid part of me that wants to be friends, still. he still thinks we're friends, I think. I do a terrible job of telling people how I really feel, unless I really, really don't like you.
like when she texted me about "not wanting a relationship," which we hadn't ever EVER spoken about, and even if it was something we once talked about, it hadn't been for literal MONTHS, and then followed up with, "but you could convince me to fuck you." as if I fucking wanted to in the first place! I was too drunk to tell her off. I just said "haha," then, but the next morning I woke up and told her to go fuck herself. why the hell would I want to convince anyone, let alone her, that I want them to fuck me? fuck you. your car is a pathetic trash bin. at least when people have messy cars it's cute sometimes, like their life spilling out all over the car, and you look at everything and gather who they are from it all. but no. your car was gross, and you are gross.
god fuck, do my eyes hurt. I've been working on my new homepage for some hours now. it's finally getting where I sort of want it to look. I guess my internal issue is that my brain keeps making my homepage look like what my old tumblr blogs used to look like, but that's not what I want it to really look like at all. tumblr brain rot. I'm taking a break now... but of course, I wanted to write my daily entry.
today was alright. I woke up super late. I was panicking because I woke up on time (or so I thought) and saw that one of my shifts texted me asking if I was on my way. I woke fifteen minutes after I was supposed to be at work. I couldn't bike there, but I managed to get there fifteen minutes after the text (yeah, exactly.) I was really nervous to go in, but it was fine. my shifts just laughed at me and said I was lucky, because one of them had come in earlier to set something else up. as much as I really hate to admit this, because I feel arrogant for thinking so, I do think I am one of the favored employees at my job. I get away with a lot of shit. lateness, dress code, fucking around in the back. and I guess it'd be bad if I didn't really do anything, but I bust my ass off doing a bunch of things in between all my screw ups. and this is something that's always sort of annoyed me, but I'm still grateful for(? weird word choice), is that a lot of the times, people find me cute. yeah, sometimes, in a totally infantilizing way.
I've had this happen to me since I was a kid. I was always shorter, quieter, and really shy. then I grew older and I learned that I was very awkward but I could harness it to be sort of funny (and hopefully, endearing) and I guess that was still also an age range where this brand of "cute" made sense. there is this weird part of my life where I desperately wished I was cool, and everyone I knew saw me as a 'nerd' or a 'prude' or a 'loser,' LOL, but then somehow I was 'cool.' did you know the first time I heard someone call me cool was in college? then I meet all these new people down the line, and sometimes, even the people who I think are so much cooler & interesting than me, sometimes mention that they think I'm cool.
when did I stop being jocelyn? and then jo? and now older jo? god, if I could see myself now at like, 13 or 15. I was so awkward and geeky. and I still see myself as that girl sometimes, I guess. but then I look at myself and see that I'm no longer a version of myself that will never, ever exist again. but yeah, back to the cute thing, it's weird to really explain. people like me because they assume I'm non-threatening and that sometimes works to my advantage.
I don't remember when I really became a person, and then, I don't remember when I became a mystery of a person anyone would want to unravel. one day I just had this personality (a more structured one, recently, once I stopped actively wanted to kill myself, I guess, thanks, lithium) and all these stories to tell and all these ideas and feelings and relationships. and then I met people, and I'd want to know all about them, and to my surprise, I never realized that they would want to find out about me, too. some people probably lied to me, though.
I remember when I was kissing someone once, and we stopped. I laid on the side of couch, in silence. if I don't feel like I have anything important to say, I tend not to say anything. I think sometimes people interept that as me not wanting to talk to them, but I seriously don't know how to explain that I hate my voice, and I hate that I worry so much about what my new words are going to be. they were staring at me. they smiled, and they said, "jo... jo... I want to know so much more about you," I didn't look over. "but you're just this sweet, soft mystery to me."
I don't think they did want to know more about me. I just had to stay this 'sweet, soft mystery' and I'd be perfect forever. I know when someone says something like that and they're lying. I'd smile back and shrug and look away until I felt them touching me again. for a while that's all I thought I was good for, I guess. I don't know if a lot of people I talk to realize I know when they're lying, and a lot of the times I don't think they know when I'm lying. I've constructed an entire web of lies my whole life, just trying to survive under my parents, and y'know, not have my mom throw me down a flight of stairs. which I never could end up avoiding, anyways. happened anyways. I could be the world's greatest liar, and I still don't think I could've stopped anything that's ever happened to me.
this was an extremely personal entry. thanks for reading if you could get through all that. not that it's super intense in general, it's just an intense bit of my personal thoughts. we had to vote for employee of the quarter today. my shift M voted for me, I don't think they knew I saw them write my name down. and when they went to go put in it, they said, "oh fuck, I should change my vote, this person already has a lot of votes," and I tried to keep a straight face. "I'm not going to, though. I'm too lazy." if I won, that'd be pretty nice. but also, pretty depressing. the only thing I'm really good at is working at sbux and trying to leave everyone the fuck alone.
I had a day off today, which was really nice. I woke up around nine, the sun was already out, somewhere, behind the clouds. I had coffee and peanut butter banana toast for breakfast. I bought a bunch of bananas and I'm trying to eat them all before they're too ripe. the solution here should be don't worry! you can use them for banana bread! but unfortunately I already have overripe bananas from work. I couldn't stand to see them throw so many away. banana bread seems pretty likely in my future.
today was another slow day, as much of my life is. I open tomorrow so I'd better sleep soon, probably. I decided to start working on re-constructing whatever I have up of my website. I made a little graphic of myself, which took hours, lol. I don't even like it that much, and I'll probably take it out, but it's nice to look at for now. I got the basics of what I wanted my homepage to look like, but I'm realizing that it's just... boring. it's fucking boring. I need to think of a better structure for my website. something that expresses who I am, but fits to my rather strange ideas of 'organization' and 'neatness.' you know, when it's not organized to others, but it makes sense in your brain, for you? yeah.
today wasn't super great in terms of body image. I try not to think about how much I hate my body sometimes, but I really fucking do a lot of the times. I've always felt like I'm fat, or if I feel fine about my weight, I'm dysphoric about my chest and my hips, which loops back into feeling fat because if I'm not thin, then I don't look 'androgynous' enough. which look, I know. I fucking know. all of that shit means nothing. and it does mean nothing! but when I've been staring at my stomach and my tits and my hips and my thighs for forty-five minutes straight, it makes a vicious, twisted kind of sense to me.
you know what's even more fucked up, though? sometimes I obsess over the fact of whether or not I'm as thin, or as attractive as I was back in february. that's when all that fucked shit was going down. and I hate it, I hate everything that happened to my body then. so then why do I obsess over still fitting that standard of beauty? why must I still be attractive in that way? because even if I do achieve what I want, and sometimes I have (or just illusions of having it), I'm going to look into the mirror for too long and have a break down, because it's not who I really am. I have to be this sexy, alluring girl, and on the other hand, I have to be as far away from that as I possibly can. oh, and I also have to be thin, have good skin, be taller, be softer, be stronger, be more interesting, be worth something all at the same time!
there are times where it is all managable. my girlfriend loves and kisses me and then kisses me everywhere and it's all good, because sometimes I remember that I only really want to be enough for her. and I only really want to be enough for her all the time. she's made me feel the most special I have ever felt in my whole life. she holds and touches me like it's the first time every single time. (it's going to be very gay right now if you'd rather skip over this) I remember the first time I was completely naked in front of her, and it had been probably three days of knowing each other, in my dorm room. she's taking her shirt off, too, and looks over at me. her face goes soft, and she smiles at me. "you are so beautiful, Jo, do you know that?"
do I? do I? do I?
I dyed my hair purple, and I spent most of my time since I got home just trying to create this little 100x100 icon of myself, but nothing I've done has satisfied me yet. I guess I'll just try again tomorrow. I smoked too much weed to keep going. and also, I should try and learn to pace myself. it's not good to immerse myself in something I like doing all at once all the time, because that's how I distract myself from really sitting with my own feelings, sometimes. sometimes it's a good coping mechanism, sometimes I do it to avoid thinking about something, then I end up snapping real hard.
he has messaged me today, too. I asked, "Why are you texting me randomly?" I don't want to think about him anymore than I have to.
today felt a bit surreal, but that might've just been the fact that I slept so much. I woke up at 4 am, per usual on saturdays. my coworker picked me up, which was really nice, but I did brace myself for early, early morning conversation. it is strange that the mornings I'm up for during a work week are always very dark out. I stand on the floor, in the empty, cold, quiet storefront, watching for the sun creep over the sky softly. it always happens later than I want it to.
I put the store order away on saturdays, which is usually my favorite shift, and they also tend to be my shortest. we had an incredible amount of backlogged stock from the few weeks we were incredibly short-staffed due to covid. I spent all of last saturday condensing and taking inventory, which isn't usually something I have to really do. this saturday the order was about 75% smaller, but there was so many miscellaneous items that it took me a while (also I stood around listening to podcasts when I was too tired to move.) we also got all of our winter '21 collection cups in, and I didn't care much for them, but I liked showing my coworkers everytime I found a new set of cups, because they go crazy for the new merchandise.
my shift supervisor K always makes me stay until the actual schuedueled time I have to leave. my other morning shift M and my boss tend to just let me go when I'm done in the back of house. but there were so many people today. I think my boss made an accident in the scheduele, because there was eight baristas in the store, when there's usually, at most, five. I would've taken quicker if I had known she would've let me go right away, but I still managed to leave at 8:30 am.
the ride back home was one of my favorites ever. the streets were still wet from the night before's rain fall, but I just tried to remember to brake sooner than I usually would, and break softer. it was technically still early morning (I suppose, on a saturday morning, in a middle upperclass residential area) so there weren't as many cars. I even got to bike on the street on the only strectch of road that I usually go unto the sidewalk for, because that particular street is really busy and too narrow for me to be able to comfortably ride. it's that or I get used to drivers brushing their side mirrors on my handlebars. but even this morning, it was calm and empty, so I zoomed down the road and felt like I was a bird.
I got home, and did some chores, of course, nothing interesting. I finished three hours after I had returned, which honestly felt like nothing to me. I feel like sometimes I move through life like I'm in a trance. I got so fucking stoned right after. I kept hitting the bowl and thinking, "I want to get so high I don't feel human anymore," which sounds intense, but it just means... well, I guess, at different times it means different things. wednesday and I watched more america's next top model, and eventually around 2, I went to go lie down.
I ended up sleeping for a long time. four hours and a half--or maybe it's not that long, but it's long for me. I still feel like I could lie down now and go back to sleep, lol. do you ever sleep so much that you're still tired? I feel like that often. I had many dreams I wasn't able to remember for long once I had even regained conciousness. I woke up for a minute during my nap, and thought about how strange my dream was, but I cannot remember a single thing about it. I also checked my phone and saw something that when I woke up for real, I thought I really dreamt. he had messaged me. after months of finally not having any contact, he sent me a text. it was something stupid, and without thinking all I said back was, "Wtf"
I was supposed to play dungeons and dragons today, but I fell asleep too earlier, and to be honest, it's not that much fun for me. I do it for wednesday and our friends, and also because I don't want to feel left out. it's hit or miss, honestly. although it's not my favorite thing, I do like laughing and making my friends laugh. anyways, I'm really fucking tired again, but that could just be the fact that I cleared the bowl again. it's probably that. and it's also probably why this log is so long. look at these new shoes I got:
I made a list of resolutions for the new year.
I believe that a good start to the year is a successful day. not anything special, just doing goals I had set for the day, and taking care of myself along the way. last night was probably really nice, too. wednesday and I finished a joint, and talked to her friend parker for a few hours. we had salmon & broccoli & 'harvest grains,' which I was not a fan of. but I was also too high to really care. I remember eating a lot of brie and dried apricot bites, too. eventually aaron comes over, and he brought champagne. I forgot that champagne is just fizzy wine, and it's pretty sweet, so it's really fun to drink. we were just joking around and having fun for the last couple hours of twenty-twenty. I think we were all pretty intoxicated, which I realize the older I get, just keeps happening.
we ended up leaving to aaron's apartment to watch fireworks at midnight. we smoked more weed, and almost missed the new year entirely. I remember just going, "wait, is it twelve?" and aaron checking his phone, and going "it's 11:59!" and yelling and everyone was chanting "three! two! one!" outside and immediately, there were fireworks in all directions. I was so high it felt like I was exploding in the sky, too. when we got home we just lied down in silence, and ended up falling asleep really quickly.
I had to get up at 6 am to bike to work, and it was a pretty nice ride. I've gotten used to the cold, and biking is a lot more comfortable now that I'm more confident biking on the roads (with stupid, angry, annoying drivers.) it was a very slow day at work, which I appreciated for once because I was really tired, and also, it was january first, so it would suck if I spent the first day of the year getting yelled at by pissy customers. and the best part was that none of my coworkers working that shift are big conversationlists on the floor, so we just got to stand in silence, which I personally prefer. at least today, when I was so tired, I kept falling asleep on the bar. we only got an order about every 5-10 minutes or so, when the normal rate is usually five orders 5-10 minutes. it ended up raining by the time I got off work, so I had to call a ride home, and leave my bike at work. today wasn't a day into crash into a car in the rain.
I got home and basically did a bunch of weekly chores with wednesday, and she ended up showing me her woodshop downstairs, as well. bagel bite is lounging around as usual, and we just started a new season of america's next top model. what a wonderful start to a new year, which by the way, is supposed to be better. not in a mystical or promised way, I just mean personally. I think I am the healthiest I've ever been. and I am the closest I've ever been to being the person I've always wanted to be.