Anyway! I just went back and looked at all of my earlier posts and I love how when you look back you can see all the things you've done that were lame or stupid or childish but then it gets to this point when you realize that everything you're dealing with now, was still there when you made that. You were just better at ignoring it.
Lately I've been thinking a lot about elementary school. How I was late to the first day of Kindergarten because no one helped me. How there were these three guys who spoke Spanish in my class and how I became their main target. How from around like First to Fourth grade I was constantly asked "Are you a boy or a girl?" by kids who meant for it to sound mean, just because I had short hair and tended to like sports a lot and was half-ass decent at them (which means I was better than pretty much all the girls). About how people teased me and taunted me for doing things that were just part of my personality or were a habit, like turning around when I talk to talking in circles just to get to the answer of a question someone asked me. How there was that boy in my first grade class who kept asking to hold my hand or put his hand on my thigh or touch me in general and how my best friend at the time (Jake) was always there to get in the middle of it. How sometimes when I went over to Jake's house it'd be fun and we'd hang out but then one of the first times I was there he wanted to play 'Doctor' and while I didn't acquiesce with pretty much anything he told me to do it made me feel uncomfortable. But he was my best friend.
It was all these things that just kept happening and made me hate elementary school and made me never want to go there ever again. It all adds up for a kid.
I remember transferring in the middle of fifth grade and being so happy because of it. I would make new friends and kids wouldn't be mean to me or anything like that. Of course that wasn't entirely true but it was nice to believe something like that. Middle School was okay when it came to being teased or taunted. It was easier than Elementary and I definitely didn't hate it as much. It was mostly bad in fifth grade then it became this weird thing of sometimes I was being teased and sometimes I wasn't. It was just odd.
Aside from that I was also thinking about sexuality a lot. It's something I've honestly been thinking about quite a bit and everything but I was thinking about this time that I was talking to a friend about someone I had met and had just become almost best friends with and she jokingly said: "Maybe you have a crush on her ;D"
I flipped the fuck out.
Not because she was implying I might be a lesbian or because I was against it or anything. No. It was because at that time especially I had been fighting with that idea myself. I wasn't sure if she was just an amazing friend or if I actually was developing a crush on her. However, I wasn't as terrified by the idea that I might be Bisexual or Gay or anything. It was the idea of what would happen to me if I was? I was very certain that Steven would kick me out of the house if I turned out to be something that wasn't straight, and he had told me as such the year before.
Now that I think about it, it was a bit of both. But I remembered that thought process yesterday. That entirely terrifying thought process. I have a boyfriend now but I'm pretty sure if I even mentioned what happened all those years ago he would still look at me differently for a while.
Which kind of leads me in to this: I'm pretty sure he wanted a boy. And by pretty sure? I mean that he called me boy at least once a year since I was at least ten. It's because of what happened recently that got me thinking on this.
We were getting me some new clothes and due to my size (in all different ways) the best clothes that fit me are the boys clothes and the women's cloths. Well. The women's clothes have shitty designs and the boys clothes are comfortable, so I went with the boys clothes. As we were walking over to them he said:
"Alright, well. Lead the way boy-girl."
He completely failed at trying to correct himself. It was just sad, really.
It got me thinking about how in fifth grade and quite a bit of middle school I was getting really in to basketball. The second he found out he started trying to teach me and get me better and better at it until I was actually pretty decent. Then he still didn't stop until I joined the school team (which never happened that year) and he kept trying to get me to enjoy basketball. At first it was okay. I did. I liked going out and playing basketball and I was finally doing something with my dad. Then it got to this point where I hated it because he was mean and wouldn't let me stop until I did certain things and he didn't understand why I couldn't do this or that because my height shouldn't affect that and my upper body strength shouldn't affect that and I was in karate but it didn't matter if I was exhausted from the lessons because I had to get in to basketball.
Or there was the quad incident when I kept telling my mom and Steven "I don't want to. I have a bad feeling about this. I have a really bad feeling about this. I'm going to get hurt." My mom, at one point, actually told me:
"I'm older than you and my intuition is stronger. You're going to be fine."
And she sent me out. Steven started me next to this six foot deep ditch. Yeah. You can see where this is going. I remember starting it. Blacking out and then waking up under the quad in the ditch. It was miraculous. I had borrowed one of their helmets and was wearing a short sleeved shirt. I didn't have a scratch on me and if anything I had a minor concussion. My first thought was "Where am I?" and my second was "I said I would get hurt." I stopped doing a lot of the things they wanted me to do after that. I felt like if I did I would end up sad and hurt. I still think that's a good philosophy.
I've been getting along swimmingly with Mandze, Karlie's sister. I feel like I've missed a lot when it comes to her (especially when I've known her for twelve [almost thirteen] years) but I think it's one of those things where "It's the right time now." and any earlier would have had less satisfactory results. I'm really glad that the right time is now. I think it's helping. She's been going with me to my psychologist appointments and it's been kind of interesting.
On that note, I think I've completely mind-fucked my psychologist. Sometimes she stares me me like "@_@" and like she's trying to figure out what I'm saying and it's taking a few minutes.
It entertains me, really. I like talking to her, I don't feel like I'm burdening her with all of my problems like I do everyone else.
In other news, two people I used to talk to every day I've been talking to less and less. It feels strange. Especially the fact that the one I considered a 'daughter' 'disowned' me and so to her I technically can't call her my daughter but in my head I do because it feels wrong otherwise. I still talk to one a bit! And I haven't role-played, really role-played, with them in a while I think. It feels weird and is a little depressing to think about but I have a few theories on this.
1. They know what the other one likes when it comes to role-playing, so they prefer it.
2. They're okay with switching from obsession to obsession where as I tend to stick on to one for months at a time.
3. By telling them to always tell me when something was wrong and to talk to me I may have inadvertently goten their subconscious to a point where it's something like "Oh, you're talking to her. Something must be wrong." And they start to seem a bit more depressed and then they feel a bit more depressed.
It's really just this general separation I've been waiting for for years, but it's happening more suddenly than I would have liked. I still want to meet them, I just don't want to completely lose contact with them. It tends to get a little difficult, however, when I ask a question or mention something to them and they either A. Don't respond or B. Respond with so much indifference it's palpable over the response they send me.
In an entirely unrelated point, my boyfriend is more than likely moving. He's going up north next weekend to look for jobs and to apply for jobs. No matter how many times I say it out loud or tell people (one person in particular has heard the story about six times and I feel terrible about it) it feels both like it's not real and like it's too real. I'm happy if he's happy but if he doesn't really want to do this then I don't think he should. I don't know. It's weird and my thoughts on it tend to go back and forth and fall on "I want him to do what he wants to do, I just hope that doesn't involve breaking up with me." Gods, I think that would just about kill me if he did.
I know I've said things before about love and how I don't really understand it. By all means, I still don't but I think that I'm starting to get it a little more. It lands like this: I think I would never be the same, but I don't think I'd kill myself.
I hope to never find out.
When I lay with you
I could stay there
Close my eyes
Feel you here forever
You and me together
Nothing is better - Adele "Set Fire to the Rain"
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