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Dec. 13th, 2005 10:05 amI'm not at all sure I know how to live in the world any more. It seems like the further and further I go in trying to figure out who I am, how I want to live and be, the harder it gets to implement, the further away it gets from the mainstream, and as a consequence, from understandability. It may well be self defeating, but it seems a pragmatic question to ask what use a sense of self is if it can't be validated or even recognized by others due to lack of context or conceptual terms. Wholly by accident, I've become an identity elitist and I don't like that at all.
I can trace a long history of "I don't want to be this/this isn't right for me", but really, what's the point? I don't shape the social world, or even my social world, and I doubt that I'll ever cast a shadow big enough to make a change towards what it feels like I need. They're not just words and definitions; these are the things that make social reality possible, and in this light, I'm socially impossible. The daily, multiple acts of erasure and denial take their toll, and I'm feeling them more lately, it seems. A common response to pain is to flinch, to try and avoid it, and I find myself withdrawing more and more socially. It's hard not to see the two as related.
The most recent realization is that I don't want to live life in the assigned role of "transsexual", but I don't see many options, and that fills me with powerless rage and frustration. I don't want to be marked as a freakish other at all times, purchasing tiny bits of condescending social acceptance by playing the game, swallowing the fear, and coming back for more abuse because really, society loves me, and if I just changed, if I were just good enough, it wouldn't have to hit me...
Fuck, too much inside me, and it's not coming out cleanly or cogently. I know it's winter, and the holidays and those always affect me negtively. A million tiny cuts are making the gaping gut wound seem worse than it necessarily is, I guess.
I can trace a long history of "I don't want to be this/this isn't right for me", but really, what's the point? I don't shape the social world, or even my social world, and I doubt that I'll ever cast a shadow big enough to make a change towards what it feels like I need. They're not just words and definitions; these are the things that make social reality possible, and in this light, I'm socially impossible. The daily, multiple acts of erasure and denial take their toll, and I'm feeling them more lately, it seems. A common response to pain is to flinch, to try and avoid it, and I find myself withdrawing more and more socially. It's hard not to see the two as related.
The most recent realization is that I don't want to live life in the assigned role of "transsexual", but I don't see many options, and that fills me with powerless rage and frustration. I don't want to be marked as a freakish other at all times, purchasing tiny bits of condescending social acceptance by playing the game, swallowing the fear, and coming back for more abuse because really, society loves me, and if I just changed, if I were just good enough, it wouldn't have to hit me...
Fuck, too much inside me, and it's not coming out cleanly or cogently. I know it's winter, and the holidays and those always affect me negtively. A million tiny cuts are making the gaping gut wound seem worse than it necessarily is, I guess.
