I don't think people understand how bad I was ( still am, just not as bad because looking back this sounds stupid as hell ) scared of the rapture. As an ex-jw , I was always being treated like the world would end every day, hour, minute, I never got a break. After a few years of being raised that I started to have severe nightmares about the world ending and I would have panic attacks almost every night about my parents going to hell and it being my fault and it was so horrible. ( I was 9-11 ) and even after realizing, hell no, that was a cult and it fucked me up in so many ways, not just that, I felt really bad for no longer being religious so I would think the rapture would come after I left ( I feared I was the final straw and I would die any second )
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I have like 2 hours to create a small scale house out of cardboard for an assignment for a class I didn't even really want to take. Like wtf just because I'm classified as """""""""""gifted"""""""""""" doesn't mean I can or want to make a whole ass miniature house when I have a bunch of other assignments I feel like are impossible because I spend all of my time worrying about them, and I can't ever sit through them
I'm not even smart wtf
I hate the idea of starting something so big for a grade, and it takes one little fuck up (which im bound to make) to have to restart, and oh? "Use shit around your house that you already have!!!" Well fuck, not everybody has the shit to make a whole ass little house, or to possibly restart
transandrophobes who hate trans men are just radfems who hate trans men for being "class traitors" or whatever the fuck but with a new coat of paint. its not my fault that your view of gender is so limited that you think only femininity can be complex or whatever. i dont care if men hurt you in the past because they fucking hurt me too and guess what that didnt make me into a loser who hates marginalized people based on their identity. i dont care if masculinity was a prison for you because femininity was my prison and its my problem to work through and not take it out on other people because i think the world revolves around me or some shit. hate your abusers hate your oppressors hate the patriarchy. if your coping mechanism is to take out your frustrations on marginalized people, regardless of their gender identity, i think you should work on yourself first
I don’t want the mourn the boyhood I should have had. I don’t want to mourn the man I could grow into. I don’t want to mourn myself, because there is no amount of grief that I can feel that will reach the permanent aching hole inside me. There is no rabbit to eat away at the flowers buried deep beneath my skin, there is no way to reach inside my aching soul to see the man I am beneath. I don’t want to be a stranger in my skin, a boy pretending, a laughingstock for society.
The crowd is laughing at the poor pretending boy, wearing the costume of the girl. It’s not fitting and everyone can tell. There’s a burning desire inside every boy like the pretending boy to rip off his costume, but he will be left bare. Left to the wolves, to the sea and the world. They will rip his poor bare body apart, down to the bones, theyll clean them dry. And no one will mourn the pretending boy the way that pretending boy mourned the way his skin hurt so much in that costume. No one will mourn that boy the way he mourned himself. No one will know the way he felt when he took off that costume, left bare, the mere moments before the wolves tore him limb for limb. It was the sand on the beach in between of the morning and afternoon, the heat of pavement on a summer day. The wind on a tire swing made by the boy. It felt like riding a bike all the way through for the first time. The smell of tree sap and dust, wood clippings and freshly mowed lawns. The pretending boy wasn’t pretending, there was no costume. Just him and his own manufactured masculinity he had built inside himself through the cracks of his costume. No one will know. For he’s already dead and there is no one to tell. He will forever mourn the quick glimpse of himself he got. No one will mourn the pretending boy, for all they see is a poor costume of a girl. The pretending boy will forever mourn himself, the man he was.
Grief aches inside of me. The costume is a prison.
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So about the whole DID/OSDD thing, I know now my amnesia and other stuff aren't neurological because I got hospitalised (again) for a severe headache and feeling disoriented and far away as well as my vitals being fucked. The neurologists also said when I described my symptoms that it "sounds like I have some kind of dissociative disorder" rather than it being caused by something physically wrong in my head
So that helped ease some worries, I barely remember it now but after being released I went to my GP and they suspect I have POTS due to other issues I've been experiencing so that's fun I guess
today has been quite a hard day for me. I'm so fatigued, it's so hot everywhere and my body feels heavy. Simply lifting my arms is requiring such great effort.... yet I continue trying.
I've been thinking about this a lot to be honest. Kinda nsfw ? (mention of animal packers below):
My parter isn't a nonhuman being. She's a person, def not a normal one (/lh, /pos) but she is human and has never considered being anything other than that. And I respect her for it, I have no problem with it. But the point is
what if she doesn't accept my nonhumanity the way I perform it ?
Being transspecies is very different than being an alterhuman, or a non-physical alterhuman atleast. I say this because, in the past, I thought I just had non-physical identities, and oh boy being a ""normal"" alterhuman was so much easier. And I outed myself to a lot of people whom I don't even bark anymore to, they all think I'm a therian and all that stuff. I have masks and gear I think I'll never wear again, but I will keep it just to remind about what I thought I was previously.
Anyways.
The truth is, I am an animal. And I wish more people could see me as the dog I really am. I want to present myself as a dog, I want people in the streets seeing me and thinking "that human looks pretty doggy to me !", when I'm not even a human. But I don't wanna be seen as another human.
And by that, I mean: I want to go through transition. I want to become a dog in the eyes of the others and be more comfy in this weird-human-looking-body (this post contains most of my transition goals). I want to have a shit ton of fur on my arms, legs, belly, back (etc), I want to wear muzzles, packers, sleep on a cage or a dog bed and most importantly behave as I'm supposed to behave.
And my girlfriend's very supportive. Of everything tbh. But it'll be so hard to live with a human that doesn't understand nonhumanity well while having those things. I'm trying to find a moment where I can explain that to her without being weird but it's so, so hard to find a good moment.
It's not going to be easy to explain to her that I simply am not a human in any way, I have no concept of human gender for myself, I don't feel romantic attraction (she's aware I'm aro, but not aware that it's) because I'm a dog, that I feel comfy in wearing muzzles or what the hell is bottom dysphoria and why using a canine packer would make me feel so much better (despite me not being a male dog) with my body.... and man it will be hard.
I love her, but I yearn to be able to call someone mate. To be able to act the way I am made to act, to communicate non-verbally through dog noises and to have them responding with the same dog noises.
It's not that I hate her or don't want her. Not being comfy in a formal relationship as a dog ? Maybe. But I'm learning too. And she'll def be supportive when I reveal myself as transspecies to her.
I kinda want her to spoil me and be my owner — communication is hard. But if I don't say anything, nothing will happen.
how did you tell your human partner you were nonhuman ?? How did they react ?
