bleh. Bleh. BLEH!

Well, I tried to be a good little polyamorist. Drove to another city to see someone who I think at least wanted to fuck, if not more. But someone could literally be pressed up against me, taking off their pants, and I would still be like "maybe they just want to be friends" sooo... But I just ended up talking to them about my dumb feelings shit till late in the morning and sleeping on their spare bed. I normally wouldn't have talked about a relationship issues with a Possible Romantic Interest but they reciprocated with their own dumb feelings shit so it felt sorta okay in the moment. Though, they ended up providing much better advice than I did. I should have picked up their half of the dinner tab, in hindsight.

So, I left that person's house to go to a party hosted by The Person I Am Dating. At the party I got the impression The Person had hooked up the night before with someone who had broken up with them a few months ago. Which, well, I guess they were within their rights to do but that didn't really make it easier for me to emotionally parse. Between the two days, I think I have my answer about what to do about my relationship with The Person. Since realizing that yesterday, I've been crying off and on, including some ugly crying in front of The Person herself.

The idea of being alone again scares me, frankly. Which isn't a good enough reason to continue doing something that makes me so sad. I'll probably end things with them in the coming week or so. I'm thankful I've managed to build a small web of social connections in the time we've been dating so that ending things won't lead to me never getting out of the house.

I've got a lot of shit to figure out in my life besides this. Living situation, finding a job that is more satisfying, and the open-ended quest that is transitioning. In a way I'm looking forward to having the clarity and presence of mind to start working on myself. And maybe in that time I'll get lucky and find one of the (seemingly) rare, monogamous transgirl who wants to date me.

dumb feelings shit

is there a German word for something that brings you joy and grief in equal doses? I've been dating someone for...a few months now. Maybe it should be typed as 'dating' as it's very vague what we are. When I refer to them to friends or family (...or my therapist...), I call them "my person." Which, as I'm writing it, I realize could sound far more intimate than it is. The heart of the issue is that they aren't "my" person. She's dating a few other people as well. I knew this going in, it didn't come as a surprise. What has come as a surprise is the tumor of feelings I have caught in my throat. One that has proven refractory, threatening at times to metastasize.

ya, I know that's really fuckin' dramatic. It's a vice.

Part of me wants to rail against polyamory as a whole. I have a hard time seeing how this is healthy for people. But I've looked around the internet at different poly communities and they seem happy. I think part of my issue is that in my little community there seems to a trend of unequality in the partners, resulting in relationships that resemble an outdated atomic model. An aquaintance of mine offhandedly talked about having "her little harem." Gross. Made worse that the nuclei of the proposed atomic harems tend to be the ones from the community who have had relatively stable, upper-class upbringings. Mine being relatively stable but very much not upper-class.

I'm writing this in the fading after-glow of a night spent with her. I'm at the point where the perigee is closer than the apogee. Doubts, worries, and negative thoughts abound out here. I think about making my own harem, or, more realisitcally, finding another person so I'm not so focused on her. But I worry that I'm too monogamy-pilled at heart for any of this to work. Gonna keep trying it for a while. Partially cause I'm a weiner who can't bring herself to the hard thing even when you know it will be the right thing but really it's cause I'm lonely and this drug seems to help abate it, even if it's killing me slowly.

crouching tiger, hidden(-ish) blog

hi.

this mostly exists to just be a journal for me, I guess. I have another site on here that has a handful of followers and I felt too embarassed to talk about super personal stuff along with info that could be used to identify me (even if it took some effort). I made it forever ago but haven't gotten around to using it.

I'm super stuck inside my emotions today and wanted the outlet and thought I'd given it a whirl.
"Why are you stuck in your emotions?" the void asks.
Dunno. Some lack or surfeit of chemicals. I can think of a few reasons. Maybe it's withdrawals from alcohol, maybe it's the HRT, maybe She's Born With Itâ„¢. Mostly irrelevant right now but I'll let you know once I find out.
Hmm. What to say, where to start. How do you begin drawing smoke? Find the outlines and patterns.

I'm unhappy and I'm not really doing anything about it. There is the outline and the pattern. This is not how pictured my life at 30.

did I ever picture my life at 30? Like, really? I'm not sure I thought about it or even truly believed that I was aging but I can feel it now. Maybe that is a major part in this portrait of smoke, that I have, up till this point, lived like someone who did not have to deal with the outcomes of their decisions. I think I've always thought of my Self more like a character in a book that I know intimately, not as 'Me, Actually, as the Me-In-Itself. I'd rather be Han Fastolfe, weird ears and all. Foolishness. Put another way, I think I'm trying to live a life that others would want to read about, not one I actually want to live. And I'm just...not that interesting, ultimately. I can't be. So I just flounder and agonize over choices I'll never make.

bleh.
That feels like it could be a useful realization but only if I act on it.

What would acting on it be like?
Doing things that actually make me happy. Not just short term hedonisms but things with actual weight. I ask myself what those would be and I immediately think of the things that I would have the Book-Character-Self do. Maybe it's not the goals but the perspective. Something I fear this stream-of-consciousness is losing.
So, ever since I was fairly young, I've been terrified of death, dying, not existing, and, as a result: aging. Yes! This is relevant, officer, I promise. I think this is where my perspective issues lie. Can you really plan for the future while avoiding your mortality like a dog does a bath? Actions write themselves into reality indelibly but you would never know this from how I act. I thought I had done a good job processing that fear but I think I've just done a good job at dressing up that fear to look like other things so I can ignore it.

Yeah, man, sounds good. *nods*
Got some (more) stuff to talk about in therapy, ig.

thanks for coming to my book club nerd

also: Q: "Why the Atari Jaguar logo?" A:"Get out of my house or I'll have my dad beat you up"