The third game in the series

I’m from the millennium when people were actually willing to die in order to save their country. Our tiny nation fought against the world’s biggest country, and we won. Because we didn’t blather, “It’s impossible” or “We don’t have the science yet, maybe in the future”. We decided, “Either we gain independency or we all die”, and we gained independency through sheer willpower alone even though we were greatly outnumbered.

And that’s what’s wrong with modern people. They’d rather live a bad life, than take a risk. No matter how minimal the risk, and how unforeseeable the results might be. They are not innovative, they don’t want to change the world. Better to rot in Hell than open the door to see if there’s a Paradise waiting for us just a few steps away from where we are now, right?

Has anyone ever read history and noticed how we don’t live like Ancient Egyptians anymore? Oh yeah, that’s impossible. “Because nothing ever changes and nothing new is possible and we don’t have the science yet to build automobiles and telephones, maybe in year 3000 or so″.

Sigh. To me, it’s, among other things, a lot about wanting to have any other body than a woman’s body, and not objecting to the idea of having a man’s body. I just sometimes wish there was a third sex. You know, I fear that, no matter what I am in my head , in bodily matters I’ll only ever be “a woman with a beard” (not that there’s anything bad with that, but I’d prefer much more manly cis-ness, you know). Aaand, well, if there was “an island between the two opposite countries”, I could have at least something to anchor myself in instead of trying to swim across the ocean from one coast to the opposite one and then almost drowning in the process and then having to return to the starting point and admit that it’s impossible to ever get to anywhere from here. (What a bad analogy.)

I guess what I’m saying is, I might just rather want to be “90% third sex and 10% woman” than “50% man and 50% woman”, if that makes any sense. (Just like a dog that is 90% good/okayish and 10% bad is better than a dog that is 50% great and 50% awful, at least to me). Being 100%man would be a dream come true, but if that’s not possible, being as little woman as possible would be preferred too.

I should join an English writing class/group. Or, I could use that one language app, the name of which escapes me, and get writing help from a native speaker. (And anyone who knows me can bet their money that the moment I joined that site (half a year ago) I forgot about its existence and thus have never used even once. Ouch.)

Related to languages, my friend gave me two books about Old English and Middle English. She said she hated having to study them in college, but upon reading them I found them very interesting. I love how the old languages were like a mixture of German, English and a little bit of Scandinavian languages.

Maybe I would be more accepting of that one person, if that one person wasn’t always accusing me of “just pretending to be antisocial, just pretending to be tired, just pretending to be autistic, pretending, pretending”. Really. If I could be more social, I would. If I could have more energy, I would. If being around people didn’t make me easily tired, I’d be happy and would go make lots of friends this instant. But the truth is, being forced to spend time around people drains most of my energy no matter what I do.

Heck, (if I drank alcohol) I swear I could drink so many beer bottles that I passed out right in front of that person’s eyes and they would just complain to me that I’m just “pretending to be drunk”. Shit, if told them I’m not the King of Europe, they would just whine “You’re just pretending that you’re not the King of Europe”.

Why would an “educated social worker” person label someone a “pretender” instead of thinking “they clearly aren’t an exact copy of me”? They are supposed to be the educated one, I’m supposed to be the dumb patient here, hey? They are the one who should be educated of different kinds of people with all kinds of issues and abnormalities and attributes etc.. Don’t ever show them a person with Tourette syndrome, actually, don’t ever show them a blind person either. They would take the dog and the stick from the blind person, and throw that poor blind person into the middle of the car road, just to show that “the poor person is not really blind, they’re just pretending to not see the cars and bikes”. Sheesh.

I wonder... Maybe I’m so negative because most of my few human contacts (in real life) are with people who lead a negative life? I don’t know. I just feel more energetic when I’m with energetic people, and happier when I’m with happy people. For example, today I told one person that I have thought of applying for one school that teaches video game making and marketing, and that person was really supporting (almost in “un-Northern-European-way”, lol ;P) and made feel like I really should apply for that school next year, and I could get in, and I would be able to become a real game developer. For a moment I’ve felt that anything could be possible if I just did it and that everything will go well and be fine.

Alas, I know that after a few hours this positive feeling will have gone away and I’m back to being depressed and hopeless.

So why is it then, that in a formal depression test, there are five options to choose from: “My weight is normal”, “I’m so depressed I’ve lost 3 kilos”, “I’m so depressed I’ve lost 5 kilos”, “I’m so depressed I’ve lost over 5 kilos”?!, and “I’ve been purposelly trying to lose my weight and have succeeded by (X) kilos.” So if I eat in my stress tons of trash food and gain 35 kilos more weight it’s a sign of me being the least depressed person on the Earth ever? Really now, get your things right!

If I had created that test, there would be “I’ve been significantly underweight or overweight for at least 12 months already”, ”My weight hasn’t changed or has only changed slightly”, “I’ve gained or lost at least 3 kilos”, “I’ve gained or lost more than 5 kilos”, “I’ve gained or lost more than 10 kilos”, “I’ve been purposelly trying to lose or gain weight and have succeeded by (X) kilos”. There, one more option, but in the end a lot more truthful and helpful a test than a mere “How many Big Macs have you skipped recently?” blahblah.

I was in exile for a day. It’s a wonder this building hasn’t yet been burned down. I cried for a second when I came into my apertment and everything was still untouched - albeit reeking of booze from the hallway. Oh shit, the hallway. It’s... in a bad condition. Litres of booze everywhere. Mixed with a smell of something I don’t recognize, prolly the drugs I overheard them talking about.

In related but other news, I went to psychiatric emergency. After the mandatory waiting (despite almost no other patients but two women together), I got to speak to an emergency psychiatric nurse. I cried and poured over about everything (except for my transgender issues, I was too afraid). She was a very good nurse. She helped me to calm down (I almost got a panic attack and fainted), and she let me tell about my problems on my own pace and didn’t rush me. I’m too exhausted to tell more, but yeah, talking to her helped me at least some amount. I was also able to tell her something I haven’t been able to tell to my regular psychologist. It felt good to be finally able to tell of my deeper issues, and it was nice that she didn’t judge me and didn’t make me feel worse. So, in the end, we decided that she writes down on some doctornet what we talked about, and then they can see her writing at the policlinic.

Yaah. I’m exhausted. I’m feeling a hundred different emotions at the moment, and yet I’m also feeling nothing special. Maybe the emotions balance themselves out, and I feel neutral.