Reflections of a Queerwolf

Reposting this here, cuz it's important to me. It's an old piece of writing I did, but it explains my gender issues pretty well.

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[http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tedtalks/io-tillett-w…

This needs to be shared. Got me right in the feels, and I tried really hard to keep it together. Made it up to her statement on "the multiplicity of humanity" and couldn't stop the tears. Damn. And tonight my friends finally asked me what pronouns I really prefer.

So here it is folks. For those who want to know, I prefer Them, Ze or Hir. I won't force you to see my gender. I won't stuff It down your throat or anything, but you will see me brighten if you use these in reference to me. It will touch me to see you make that choice yourself, to decide to acknowledge my gender identity all on your own without my probing. This is how I choose to do things, and I don't recommend it for everyone. I won't feel hurt or less if you call me she, because I -know- who I am. Even when I wear feminine things, I am gender queer. I don't stop being so in a corset. I know I am "grey" and walk in a blurred gender space. I don't need anyone to validate who I am.

But if you choose to use my preferred pronouns, you can. And it will warm my heart to be accepted and acknowledged by you.

It's okay if you forget or mess up. We all do when learning. I have before, will likely do so again. As long as people try.

Its the trying that makes the world a better place.

I'm not going to argue about how someone pronounces something. Hir is third on my list of pronouns because it can be confusing, so Them and Ze are actually more preferred for me. For the record. I express the multiplicity in myself in many ways, hence Them.

And please, no bashing or hate. If this is not your preference, ignore this post and move on. But if you wish to try to understand, I hope you will read this and watch this video.

/Rant

Pain Journal's Greatest Hits: I'm Not Okay - My Chemical Romance

I'm Okay.

Don't mind the bags under my eyes. Or how hollow they look when you look deep enough. Or the fact that my eyes are half glazed from medications, and half empty from pain. The pain is really bad, but it could be worse. I've been down this road before. What's hurting me this moment is my mental state, not my pain levels. I'm trying every trick I know to keep myself as present as I can be. Because everything inside me wants out today. It doesn't help today is the inauguration of Trump. I'm not someone who can pretend this guy doesn't look like a train wreck straight to hell. My friends are all scared and horrified. Except for the odd ones who support him, and confuse me to no end. How can anyone support someone who has no real respect for human life? He's an abuser. Classic behavior. I have spent my whole life trying to get away from his kind, and instead I find myself being in a country ruled by one.

But I'm Okay right?

Yeah I got nothing to worry about. Just struggling to have my dreams in a world set on crushing them before they even start. I'm crying a lot this week. For frustration, for mourning, for even having normal reactions to too much stress. I can barely survive day to day, and I'm living in a really shitty situation right now I can't fix easily because guess what: EVERYTHING COSTS MONEY. All hail the almighty Trump Dollar. I'm just over reacting...

I'm totally Okay.

I just had to take extra seroquel last night because of how manic depressive I am right now. I started hearing voices again. That's a scary place to be. So I did what you do when a flare up of your bipolar happens and it scares you: You take more drugs. Then those drugs numb you down to the core and you sleep all the time...

I think I'm Okay...

But I also think about horrible things that haunt me like ghosts. I think too much right now. On all levels. I have a laundry list of things to do and it feels like more things get tacked on then taken off. I am fighting off another nervous breakdown, because now would be a really bad time to be hospitalized again. I'm slowly trying to dig my way out of this mess I am in, but I'm not even at half battery. I'm not even sure I still have a battery to charge.

I'm not Okay.

And that's just fine. I'll take it day by day until I really am Okay again. Today is just not that day.

Kweeny's Pain Journal's Greatest Hits: Veteran of a Thousand Psychic Wars

Life doesn't pick favorites, even if it looks that way. Some people are extremely lucky. They know how to do crazy matrix moves through life, dodging bullets and carving out their life path with ease. It may not be that easy, but it sure looks like it from where I stand, looking up from the abyss. I envy those people. It's hard not to when your path is etched in pain and horror. It's hard to see the beauty of those few precious moments in your own life where things aren't that bad. Because there are so few of them, a battle weary warrior like myself can't keep a hold on those moments as easily as some. It's was trained into me at a young age that life will always be unfair, and not just unfair. Utterly and completely cruel. Because even those few moments of joy will be turned into a whirlwind of pain if I start overthinking everything, or I start listening to the voices that remind me of what a failure I am at living and thriving in life.

Some things just never leave you no matter how many times you rise from the ashes. Some scars come with you through each transformation.

Because the human body remembers all your suffering.

You're seeing now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars,
My energy is spent at last, and my armor is destroyed,
I have used up all my weapons, and I'm helpless and bereaved.
Wounds are all I'm made of!
Did I hear you say that this is victory?

I feel like the worst person to be in love with. Trying to find some living soil to plant seeds in is hard when your heart is a wasteland. I've messed up every relationship I have ever had, at one point or another. Not because I wanted to drive them away, but because I was scared. Scared that someone could love me the way I have always wanted in my secret heart. I wasn't picky the first time I prayed to God, asking for someone to love me. I was a good Catholic girl then. I had a prayer shrine and I talked to the Virgin Mary.  Still talk to her, but she wears different faces for me now. Being Pagan helped me open myself spiritually. But I just wanted to know real, loyal, passionate love. With anyone at all. I just wanted to know what devotion felt like. What compassion and inspiration would do to a soul as wounded as mine. My first reaction to pain and fear is to burn it all to the ground and salt the earth. I don't like this compulsion in me. Once upon a time I believed this was a good way to protect yourself from harm. It's not. It just denies you any chance of making love work for you.

Sometimes things change though. People grow tired of certain behaviors and so do you. Sometimes people die. Or you have to deal with toxic people because you got no where else to go. Or marriages fail. Or you just can't open up like you used to and it gets thrown in your face.

I am a veteran of a thousand psychic wars. My brain is full of trauma and weirdness. I will never be normal. Never be a nice girl you an take home to mom and dad. I have wounds that bleed on the regular. Reminding me I haven't left the war, because it lives deep inside me. Boneyards full of the dead and forgotten. I am not a nice girl. I'm not even a girl at all really.

I'm going through some hard shit that has driven me out of my home. Though in all honestly, that place isn't a home. I wish it was more of a rest stop, but certain factors make that difficult. I won't allow toxic people to force their way into my life. I've had more than my share of assholes in my life, and some of them I was born to. So I don't want to play out an old song and dance from my youth, but with different faces. I don't deserve to be treated badly. I don't treat myself as well as I should, but I know when someone is treating me wrong. Disrespecting my life and choices, and telling me how to handle my life. Unless you live in my skin, you don't get to do that. I won't allow it. Especially if your shit doesn't smell like roses.

Back into the fray. Because that is just where my luck takes me.

Make pain bend.