we're stuck floating in between (at Grantham, New Hampshire)

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oozey mess

JVL
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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Claire Keane
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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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Janaina Medeiros
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

#extradirty
we're not kids anymore.

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Today's Document
🪼
Xuebing Du
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@skrifandi
we're stuck floating in between (at Grantham, New Hampshire)
Recognizing emotionally mature people
Taken from Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson, Psy.D. A summary of the tips the book hands you on how to recognize emotionally healthy people.
They’re realistic and reliable
They work with reality rather than fighting it. They see problems and try to fix them, instead of overreacting with a fixation on how things should be.
They can feel and think at the same time. The ability to think even when upset makes an emotionally mature person someone you can reason with. They don’t lose their ability to see another perspective just because they aren’t getting what they want.
Their consistency makes them reliable. Because they have an integrated sense of self, they usually won’t surprise you with unexpected inconsistencies.
They don’t take everything personally. They can laugh at themselves and their foibles. They’re realistic enough to not feel unloved just because you made a mistake.
They’re respectful and reciprocal
They respect your boundaries. They’re looking for connection and closeness, not intrusion, control or enmeshment. They respect your individuality and that others have the final say on what their motivations are. They may tell you how they feel about what you did, but they don’t pretend to know you better than you know yourself.
They give back. They don’t like taking advantage of people, nor do they like the feeling of being used.
They are flexible and compromise well. Because collaborative, mature people don’t have an agenda to win at all costs, you won’t feel like you’re being taken advantage of. Compromise doesn’t mean mutual sacrifice; it means a mutual balancing of desires. They care about how you feel and don’t want to leave you feeling unsatisfied.
They’re even-tempered. They don’t sulk or pout for long periods of time or make you walk on eggshells. When angered, they will usually tell you what’s wrong and ask you to do things differently. They’re willing to take the initiative to bring conflict to a close.
They are willing to be influenced. They don’t feel threatened when other people see things differently, nor are they afraid of seeming weak if they don’t know something. They may not agree, but they’ll try to understand your point of view.
They’re truthful. They understand why you’re upset if they lie or give you a false impression.
They apologize and make amends. They want to be responsible for their own behavior and are willing to apologize when needed.
They’re responsive
Their empathy makes you feel safe. Along with self-awareness, empathy is the soul of emotional intelligence.
They make you feel seen and understood. Their behavior reflects their desire to really get to know you, rather than looking for you to mirror them. They aren’t afraid of your emotions and don’t tell you that you should be feeling some other way.
They like to comfort and be comforted. They are sympathetic and know how crucial friendly support can be.
They reflect on their actions and try to change. They clearly understand how people affect each other emotionally. They take you seriously if you tell them about a behavior of theirs that makes you uncomfortable. They’ll remain aware of the issue and demonstrate follow-through in their attempts to change.
They can laugh and be playful. Laughter is a form of egalitarian play between people and reflects an ability to relinquish control and follow someone else’s lead.
They’re enjoyable to be around. They aren’t always happy, but for the most part they seem able to generate their own good feelings and enjoy life.
– © Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, Lindsay C. Gibson, Psy.D.
soooo..... goals
city livin' (at Brooklyn Botanic Garden)
that feel
when you see him for the first time in a few weeks, and it’s a good time, and at the end when you’re about to part ways you think he’s going in for the hug but then he surprises you and kisses you goodbye in front of all of his friends
and just like that
you’re still here
this could be real
sigue andando el camino por toda su vida
just breathe
things the mean person inside of me is ready to say
1) oh, did me accidentally leaving my favorite shirt at your house complicate your plan to never speak to me again?
2) the only thing i'm sorry about is my own shitty taste in men
3) do you want a fucking medal? here's a bronze one, in honor of you being the third guy to convince me that you're interested and then completely disappear
4) fuck
i thought you were different
i thought maybe for a second you might really be interested in me not just in dating someone not just in sex not just in flirty text messages
and every time i got anxious i wanted so fucking badly to be wrong i wanted it to be crazy that i was wondering if you were really truly into me i wanted it to be real
fuck
all i've ever wanted is for it to be real
gosh, i feel so lost. like i’m sad for no reason, crying for no reason. nostalgic for something i didn’t even enjoy. thinking “what if it could go back to the way it was” but what it was is no longer. never mind the fact that i didn’t truly love what it was. ooof. it’s like something i had died. but nothing died, so i don’t even feel like i deserve to be sad about it. it’s an infinite feedback loop of apathy. what the hell is wrong with me? when did it get this bad? fuck.
spec scripts are my new venue for anxiety release
Every book in the History of Literature summed up in a single sentence
panic attacks r fun
i get home and i’m making dinner, i’m at the counter cutting up a carrot, and i’m two-thirds of the way through the carrot and all of a sudden i’m crying hysterically, hyperventilating, it’s never gotten this bad before, and all i can think and the only words i manage to get out are “i don’t wanna die”
i’m strong. i’m so strong. i can do this. it’s only two years. there are so many people who love you. it’s only two years. i can do this. i can do this. if you say it over and over again it becomes true. i can do this i can do this i can do this
trapped
i fucked up
i wanted to move so badly, the plan became, anything. anything that gets me out of here. anything that gets me to there.
and i found an anything, i found something, an option i thought had some of the things that i wanted. and i leapt at it, clawed and sunk my teeth in, too hungry to notice the voice in the back of my head telling me it wasn’t really what i wanted, too hungry to notice the voice telling me it wasn’t going to make me happy.
and now i’m here, and there are things that i do like, but they are so small and few and far between that i’m starting to get scared. to be completely honest, and it scares me to be completely honest, i’m mostly miserable at work. the things i love about being here, the things that are keeping me alive right now, are all outside of work. and that makes being at work that much harder. fuck.
there was a contract, and i can quit, but if i quit it’s going to cost me. literally cost me, cost me money i don’t have, cost me money i worked so damn hard the past two years to build up so i could move here in the first place.
if i quit, i’d be happier
i’d be so much fucking happier
and if i quit now i’d be almost completely truly broke and i’d have that much less time to start working on my dreams.
i want to give it time but my depression keeps getting worse and i honestly don’t know how much more of this i can take? and i wonder if there’s a legal argument there at all, like an “i couldn’t have possibly known the toll this work would take on my mental health and i signed a contract that committed me to paying $18k if i quit but its going to cost me my life if i don’t”
is that crazy? i’m terrified
i know it’s ups and downs, i know that it gets better but the lows have been getting so damn low that it’s actually starting to scare me. i’m not a quitter, but i also don’t want to wake up more and more days feeling like i’d rather kill myself than go to my job.
the beautiful irony is that if i go to a therapist and they tell me i should quit, if i do actually quit then i can’t go to the therapist anymore because i won’t have any health insurance
maybe
as the train pulls into grand central it occurs to me that i’m thinking about terrorist attacks, i don’t know why, i mean i kind of do, grand central’s a very public place, and tomorrow’s september 11th so maybe there’s some sort of subconscious association going on? but i’m thinking about, like, what if a bomb goes off? what if something bad happens? what if i get hurt, what if i start to die? and the image in my head is me, seriously injured, thinking one thing: [______]. and i realize this is the first time in my life that i’ve deeply cared about a person i’m sleeping with. i don’t just like him. i care about him. a lot, i think. so maybe i should tell him that
THE DATING ANXIETY ROLLER COASTER CYCLE
1) boy arrives at house
2) watch tv/movie
3) flirt
4) kiss
5) migrate to bedroom
6) kiss more
7) talk some
8) sexy times
9) sleep
10) wake up
11) get dressed
12) kiss goodbye
13) go to work
14) think about boy
15) don’t text boy
16) wonder if boy is really truly into you or if this is all just a joke bc let’s be real how many times have boys come over and watched tv and movies with you and flirted with you and kissed you and slept with you and loved you and then never spoken to you again
17) text boy
18) repeat
18b) never hear from boy again
coworker: “Are you okay?”
me (thinking): actually? well, i’m incredibly depressed and it comes in waves so one moment i’ll feel really good and the next all of a sudden i’m biting my nails and this pit of dread just sort of blossoms in my stomach and i start to race through all of the ways in which i don’t fit into this world as a gender-confused white-looking latinx person, and i’m not suicidal but sometimes it sort of feels that way, and i should probably get help, i should almost definitely get help, right? but in five minutes i’ll probably feel fine again and besides it doesn’t even matter because i’m just being overdramatic, right, i mean look at this, definitely overdramatic, and besides when someone asks if you’re okay they don’t really want to hear all this, they’re just, you know, ‘checking in’ like any good coworker would do for another and uh she’s staring so i should probably say something, hey mouth, are u ready 4 some human interaction? no, but then again are u ever--
me (out loud): huh? oh yeah i’m good thanks
me (out loud): sometimes i just drift off i guess
“You’re right, Cliff. You can’t prove who you are. None of us can. If we try to prove we exist, we’re just suckers. And if we ask other people to tell us we’re real, w…
yes yes yes yes yes
anxious as f*ck
ok ok ok ok ok so here we go
my heart is racing a mile a f*cking minute, i can feel it
i go to the men’s section and find a shirt i really like, and i put it on and i’m feeling super fly, and i buy this shirt and bring it home and the next day i look at it like, hey, this shirt made me feel really good, maybe i’ll wear it out tonight. maybe i’ll go out to a public place where people try and meet other attractive people for purposes of romance and ah fuck who am i kidding
see, the thing is, i could pass as a straight girl. or a straight-enough-girl. i like boys, or at least, people who look like boys, and since i was born with girl parts and didn’t have a word for trans until later in college, i grew confidence wearing “straight girl” out to meet boys. and i met enough boys. i met boys who liked me, liked me enough to flirt with me, or kiss me, or have sex with me, or date me... but did they like me? or did they like this straight girl?
and the silly thing is, nothing about me has fundamentally changed. but what scares me is what if boys only like me because they perceive me as a straight girl? there isn’t exactly a socially-recognized category of “masculine-presenting-people-who-are-attracted-to-confused-pre-T-trans-ftms”. i cannot set a filter for that shit on a dating app. i want to believe so badly that there is someone or even more than one someone out there who really truly absolutely can and will love me for who i am but also i am scared as fuck that those people don’t exist because up to this point in my life i have proved that i, masquerading as a straight girl, am capable of finding boys who are into that.
so now the confusion is: i’m ready. i’m ready to really start all the time presenting on the outside what i feel on the inside. I’m ready. one more time from the rooftops. I’M MOTHER-FUCKING READY.
but what does that mean for me and boys? what does that mean for finding love? where do i go? how do i make that work? empirically i know these are dumb questions and somehow the anxious-monster that lives in my unwanted boobs keeps asking them. goddammit.
last but not least
answers to questions i sometimes need to ask myself
q) are you trans?
a) yeah
q) will u go on T? or get surgery?
a) don’t plan on it. even tho my boobs are big, binders work pretty well, and my features are androgynous enough that i am happy w the way i look, at least right now. most importantly, i love my singing voice. even if i kept my ability to sing, i wouldn’t trade my high belty notes for anything (even a low B). i know that i have a biologically female singing voice, but also, it’s MY singing voice. [and besides, my olaf the snowman from frozen impression is 1) on-fucking-point and 2) the least gendered thing that’s ever happened to voice recording.]
q) will you change your name?
a) nah dawg bc I have the dopest gender neutral name out there and I feel like it encompasses me well as a person
q) pronouns?
a) I think I really do prefer they/them/theirs. BUT I am so bad at remembering others’ pronouns bc implicit bias is a real and harmful thing and I am quick to forgive so honestly, use whatever pronoun comes to mind and I’m fine with that. But also I appreciate it when you ask.
q) are u still trans if u aren’t changing your name or going on T or getting surgery?
a) YES
bc there is not one formula for “this is what trans looks like”. i can be a forever-pre-T trans boy and that’s okay.
q) what prefix will people use for your name in a professional setting?
a) FUCK this is the worst question of all. Prefixes are the worst most awful gendered thing that have ever happened to the professional world and the fact that I am about to enter a profession where prefixes are super fucking real absolutely slays my soul. I think I want people to call me “Mr.” because I’m pretty sure people read me as a biological female who is binding and wearing “men’s clothes” (relatedly, fuck yes Eddie Izzard, who, when asked about how he wears “women’s clothes”, replied, “well, no, they’re my clothes”) and because at the core of that presentation is biological female I think “Mr.” would balance that out in a way that feels appropriate for my identity. But fuck I hate that I have to pick. Last year I did encounter a teacher who id’d as trans/nonbinary and used “Mx.”, pronounced “mix”, and I like that kinda but it also doesn’t feel quite right. Secretly I’m hoping that I can just convince everyone to use my last name only and forego the prefix shit entirely.
q) do you have to “come out” to people?
a) uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
“coming out” is such a horrible concept bc it implies that I can’t truly be myself until I have articulated to other people that I am a certain way. And I’m... me. I haven’t changed one bit, I just now have language that helps me put words to a lot of things I’ve felt for my entire life. I don’t think I now need to suddenly sit down and share these words with people and start waving a trans flag. I think I will just continue to be me and continue to surround myself with people who love and accept me for who I am.
q) sexual orientation?
a) ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
i am attracted to people who present as masculine, who enjoy puns, who have good smiles, who appreciate music, who can deal with how much i love hockey. not an exhaustive list. more of a general basic overview of things that people to whom i’ve been attracted have had in common