#rynnytime

Got me thinking about all 100+ of my OCs, and was about to reblog when my phone shut down and restarted itself........

I am pathetic. 

Andy and I were at Salute to Supernatural in SF today, watched some real fun Q&As with everyone, looked at some beautiful handmade jewelry, some good merch, and of course: photos! and autograph! with Misha!! :O

We’re in the fucking photo line, and I’m nervous.  I get to stand near and/or around and possibly touch Misha fucking Collins!  More than just star struck; it runs deeper for me.  He means so much to me, I can’t even begin to….   Once I’m in the room and can see him, I panic.  I’m talking body shakes, burst out crying and simply can’t.  Andy pulls me out of line and holds me, lets me cry.  We retry, getting in at the end of the line to give me more time to calm down, and the same shit happens.  Instant crying, almost sobbing with fear.  I can’t stand by this man, this great man.  He’ll see me, actually, honestly see me, and see all the dark, and broken, and ruined, and hurt, and worthless inside.  I’ll taint this beautiful, wonderful man.  We rush thru our first of two pics..  I can’t even look at Misha.  Barely even in his direction.  I simply rush to his far side after pushing Andy at him (let him dodge all 6’ and lotta hunka bearded man), reach to hug him, and then we’re leaving…  I didn’t know the picture happened until we saw it later.  We go thru the same fucking panic/crying routine for our second pic (another go ‘round from the back of the line), and I still can’t look at him.  If I do, he’ll know.  All the bad I hide, I pretend not to be, keep telling my friends I am when they doubt me…..  He’ll know, and I can’t have him know.  Not Misha.  So, again, Andy gets pushed to him and I stand like a prop at their side while they figure out something “silly” to do.  And then we walk away.

Autographs.  Much later in the evening…  We’re close, and I’m shaking again.  This is a little more personal cuz it’s not quite as rushed feeling, plus I was going to have him sign something I drew that day at the con.  It’s our turn, we hand over our ticket, and my book, page open for him…  I foolishly think I can look at him and at least say “thank you”.  I make eye contact with Misha for the briefest flash of an instant before I not only turn my face down and away, but full on turn my body sideways and huddle in on myself.  Andy says I murmured in full voice “I can’t even look at you…”  Misha said “what?” to that, and Andy -seeing me fall apart piece by piece- tells Misha that he’s my hero and I’m incredibly shy so this is tough for me and thank you so very much.  Which is enough cue for me to reach for my book, and turn and leave.  Misha calls “good bye” after us, and I turn to him quickly and say it back.

I am pathetic.  I knew I’d get nervous, but I hoped it would be excited-puppy-pee-on-the-rug/forget-my-own-name nervous.  Instead I shut myself out and down, and showed him exactly how stupid and broken I am..  Everything I was hoping he’d never see.  Cuz that makes sense.  He’s fucking Misha Collins, and I watched him be so fucking kind and loving and wonderful to another fan who broke down on him.  I knew he’d be kind and loving and wonderful to me if that happened, but I am weak, and stupid..  I couldn’t let him near me like that, like me at all.  I’m worthless and only proved how much of a fucking waste of space I am.  I had THREE chances today to be in physical contact with a man I greatly admire and look up to, and I..  I fucking couldn’t.  Way to go Kat.  -500 from Hufflepuff.  Let me know how that self hate feels now that’s it’s got new material to burn.  Fucking pathetic useless piece of shit…….

I feel like I'm more of a mash up between masculine and feminine.  I don't feel male one day and female the next, I just sorta feel like...  I'm just me.   I've always felt out of place growing up, but that also came about for other things about me, not just gender.  I do know that I've wanted to be a boy since I was a little kid..  My reasoning then was it would be so much easier being me if I was a boy.  I'd still love to be a man, though I realize now that if I were to transpose everything about me -my thoughts, my emotions, my mannerisms, etc- into a male body, I'd most likely feel just as out of place as a man as I do now as a woman.

If I could have my way, and magic myself into my perfect body/look, I'd be androgynous.  I'd still have breasts (cuz I love them), but I'd want them much smaller (A-B), and I'd keep my hips.  Cuz..  hips, man.  Love hips.  I also really, really, really badly want a dick.  Not gonna lie.  I do, but that's not a necessity, just a desire..

I just want to know who I am, what I am, what to call all this jumbling around inside...

Andy calls me a bisexual masculine non-conforming female who wants to be androgynous...  We had a long discussion, I cried a lot.  A lot a lot.. and what he's identified me as doesn't feel bad, it feels alright, but I'm still unsure.  Bi-gender felt so right, but every interpretation I saw/read didn't fit how I see myself.  Guess I'm a work in progress, but Andy says it's ok that I don't know who I am, cuz I'm trying to find out who I am..