Happy Birthday Son!

Well, today is my son Indrid’s Birthday.  He is 5 today.

It’s about 2:30am and I can’t sleep, so, I will write what’s on my mind:

MY SON.

I’ll write my memories of his birth.

I remember being in Jonesboro still almost as if it was yesterday.  Jonesboro, Louisiana that is.  It was a late night and me and Allison had just gotten as comfy as we could get.  We had gone to the doctor about every couple of days at this point because she feared she was in labor (when you live out there, the middle of no where, you kind of have to be on your toes with this).  We first rushed to the Jonesboro hospital where they decided to rush us to Minden via ambulance.  Now, Minden is a good distance from Jonesboro, about 45-60 minutes.

We arrived in Minden where we had been only once already before.  It was quite a nice hospital actually.  The rooms for labor were very well set up.   It was almost like being in a house.  It was some time around 1-2am at this point.  We waited and waited and waited for the doctor to get in.. which was like 7-8am (srry really bad at remembering the exact times).  They watched the dialation which wasn’t very quickly happening.  Mostly, though, they were watching Indy’s heart rate.  With every tiny contraction Allison had, his heart rate would change.

The doctor finally came in and had a look at her.  He said he would induce labor at this point.  He proceeded with inducing labor with a drug that I can not remember.  I remember when it started.  She was in intense pain.  I didn’t know what to do.  I was so helpless.  I didn’t like to see her like this.  I remember feeling faint.  Not because of the pregnancy or needles or blood or anything.  I was in a moment of complete fear due to my helplessness.  Her mom handed me some money and told me to go to the cafeteria.  I did.  I remember calling Rockin’ Rye… and Magic Mike.  I called my mom and my brother.  I called Jeremiah.. I called Josh.  I had food, but it was still kind of hard to eat.  I realized I had spent a while down there and that I should get back up to see if everything is okay.

I went back to the room where her aunt was outside the door (might have been someone else.. lol).S  I heard Allison moaning and screaming in pain.  That very quickly reminded me what was going on.  I was told that the heart rate of my son was taking well at all to the induction of labor.  The would perform a C-section.

I went to the lobby and waited.  We had already decided that I was not going to be able to sit in the room for delivery, let alone a C-section.  Her sister went with her.  It seemed like a lifetime for this all to happen.  The baby though, Indy, was delivered.

They brought him out to all of us.  It was about 5pm by now.  I remember seeing him, so tiny… so fragile… so helpless in this world.  HE WAS ABSOLUTELY AS AMAZING AS I COULD HAVE EVER IMAGINED….

I held him.  I cried.  Her family took pictures.  Yet I worried.  When can I see Allison.  I had my son, but I didn’t have the girl I loved.  So, we waited more.

They finally brought her out and brought her to a room (which to my luck had a spare bed since I hadn’t slept at all).  She was not at all coherent.  I slept for a bit.. maybe half an hour…. I have very little recollection of time in all of this.  The doctor came and brought me some forms that I could sign.  I did that.  They wanted her stuff to be done, though.  She was in no position to be doing that yet.  In that next week I learned a lot.  Taking care of a child was a completely new thing for me.  I had never really done any of it.  I will never miss that feeling, though.  The feeling of being needed.  The feeling of being able to give someone what they need, granted… I was absolutely confused every step of the way.

Her incision wasn’t going well at all.  Infection had set in.  She would undergo a second surgery.  Afterwards they decided to let the wound heal open.  A process they called something else that I can’t remember.  It was not at all a comforting thing.  We stayed in that hospital for about 2 or 3 weeks before we finally left.  The whole adventure was nothing at all that we had imagined, and in the end the experience really set me and Allison apart.  She was assigned a home nurse to come by each day and take care of her wound.  After the healing process happened, I slowly became more and more useless.

My time in this house was coming to an end.  After a months time, I was told to leave.


~Joslyn~

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Conquering Love? Or Loving To Conquer?

I feel like I’ve failed to express myself as of late.  As if my views have been left dry due to self-pity and perhaps a bit of fear about the reality I am presenting myself as.  I had to pause the other night due to ‘the cup throwing incident’ and reflect on it.  I questioned myself, “self…. am I ready for this? Is this the fact that I see fit for myself?” It took me only a couple of hours to fully convince myself that yes,  I am on the right path.  To give up would only lead me back to where I started.  Back to a place where I don’t feel comfortable being who I am.  A place that I feel more empty than is ever imaginable to sustain emotional survival.

I wonder, though, what it is that I seek still.  I haven’t quite found myself, but I’ve jumped that hurdle by now.  I lack any sort of goal, though.  I at the very least need a goal.  There is no point to anything really if I don’t have a goal.  Even the idea that I’m just going to enjoy life has that simple ideal of a goal:  ENJOY.  I lack even that.  I feel like I seek too often the acceptance of others who  have already given every inch of acceptance.  I still feel like a broken wheel.  Like I am just something of a defect.  I have no one in my life to go to for that deep emotional comfort you get with love.

I love my family.  I love my son.  I love my friends.  To not have a person close enough to even flirt with is disastrous to a soul in my opinion.  There is a lot of expression that happens through that.  You don’t need a relationship to enjoy the simple feeling that you seek and label as ‘love.’ Love comes and goes like a flower.  It blossoms.  It dies.  Sometimes it comes back in that same spot, but sometimes a seed has been spread and a very similar flower blossoms elsewhere.  I am at a point where I feel like all my seeds of love have died.  I don’t feel like I can find enough comfort in my own self to allow someone to love me.  I don’t want to feel like I am the reason for someone’s life not going in the direction they want to go.  Most of the time… I let the worst of society get to me and I just feel utter disgust in myself as a person.  This is the struggle I feel daily.

All I do anymore is go week to week without any set goal other than pay my bills.  I’ve situated myself into a lifestyle where I can get away from the typical work, sleep, work, sleep routine.  I have not yet found a comfortable medium on how to enjoy my life.  I don’t.  I still don’t enjoy what I have.  I like who I am at this point, but I really don’t know how get out of this shell.  I am hiding and I don’t know what I’m hiding from any more.

Then again there is also the question of ‘when is it love and when is it lust?’  This is very difficult to decipher.  I do feel both go together well, but I want to know (for my own personal reasons) does this person have what I need and do I have something to offer?  I fully believe there is a void in everyone’s life that is filled by that special type of love.  In most relationships that I see fail it is very evident that at least one party is not doing well with the situation.  I think in love you must want to fill that void for your partner, but not in order for you to fill your own.  Selfishness is one of the biggest things I see wrong when people come to me with there relationship problems.  If you can want to bring something to someone without ever expecting a return then you have defeated the selfish action that most people take, though, this still does not constitute to perfection.  You must still be able to meet the needs of the other and vice versa, thus why it is called ‘compatibility.’

I don’t really want much more than to know that someone smiles because of me.  It is a feeling I truly miss.  No one is here for me in good or bad.  No one knows I cry.  No one knows I smile.  I just continue on as another person walking the streets (a passer-by per say) saying hello and goodbye to people that mean something, but not as much as the meaning could be if that person was the one who lives because of me.

What I want in itself is selfish.  WANT.  It just is selfish in its own meaning.  I like to look at it as ‘need.’  I need this love so I can feel stable in life.  It is how I function to my fullest.

My life is dormant and sick because I no longer function well.
My heart is a workhorse for a needless soul.
I defeat myself with constant sorrow.
A sorrow grown from negligence of my self,
And my true being that I am afraid to own.

~Joslyn~

Brainstorming And A Quick Cup Shower

So, I’m getting really bad now at keeping up on here.  The last week has been hard to do much, though.  I’ve had this miserable tooth pain that almost doesn’t want to stop.  Numbing…. that is my solution for now.

I’ve been thinking extremely hard about my work as I am making this transition.  I love the transformer costume.  It is an amazing piece of work, even in the state that it is in.  It’s amazing to some, but I see more with it.  My interests are beginning to shift my ideas.  I think I have something that is going to still be different, but much more accessible for me to transition to a girl.  I wont lie, though, if I had been practicing the voice things… this would be a done deal now as the transformer.  I want a totally new image, though.  Everyone out there knows me as “Josh” the transformer.  I don’t want that image.  Even if it’s “Josh” the transformer who is transitioning, I don’t want it.  I will start fresh.  Yes, people will recognize me from the transformer, but those people know me.  The people who see me with the new act that saw the transformer months ago wont connect those two.  Thus, I find this solution to suit me well.

I wish I could describe what I am doing, but I’ve come to realize that I don’t share ideas.  I only share finished products.  I’d rather be copied than to be completely robbed of the idea.  Either way, I’d obviously be upset, but I’m just referencing to the bad.

I can say that the new act will have a them that I’m ecstatic to attempt and it’s mostly thankful to a Swedish musician who does Japanese music.

I think it’s just overly cute enough to make what I want to make happen work.

Okay, so, enough of the work ideas.  Let me tell you what happened tonight as I’m riding home from a good friend of mine’s house.  I’m riding down St. Claude only 7 blocks or so from home.  I hear a thud on a car and a truck pass by me that was driving very close.  From the car came, “Damn! I missed!”

These assholes actually tried to hit me with their drink.  I was in complete shock.  Usually I would react with anger.  Things in me have obviously changed.  Where I would have usually followed them to express my anger, I instead wanted to stop and cry right where I was.  For the first time since I’ve started this transition,  I truly felt like a disgusting piece of trash in society.  In our ‘American’ society I should say.

So many people out there just have no respect what so ever about people and the ways they choose to live.  Granted I do strongly believe that many, many more people are respectful, but it still disturbs me how people can have such little hearts.  I can only be thankful that they didn’t actually hit me with their cup.  I still haven’t really figured out how I feel about the situation.  It was disheartening for me to be treated like that.  The rest of the bike ride home I just wanted to be invisible to the world.  I didn’t even want to exist.  As soon as I made it in the house all was forgotten… at least until I took care of that throbbing tooth ache.

Somehow I can still feel like I deserve that cup on me.  Knowing that at one point in time in my own teenage youth,  I have definitely thrown a cup at someone.  I too missed… then I felt bad about it hahaha… I hope these people feel resentment towards their action, but I strongly doubt that to be the case.

I still wish them the best of their days (as I shake my fist at them)

 

~Joslyn~

A Girl With Problems, A Girl With Confidence

Well it seems I am also late to follow up with my “I’m late” post.

Anywho…. I am here and writing now.  I’ve just been continuing on in my journey to stay alive.  Work is not giving me much to work with lately, but this was kind of expected at this time of the year.  After this month I should be able to do more with myself as far as finances go.  Christmas is like a revival of my income, thankfully.

Hormones.  I’m still on them and ready to go back to the doctor for a second visit.  I’ll call tomorrow and schedule my appointment.  I will say that I’ve waited longer than I had anticipated, but I should be able to survive.  I’ve written in the past that I had budding breasts, but tonight I felt my left one and thought “Wow! That really is quite a lump.”  These things are now impossible to hide.  If I try to grab anything from up high I’m feeling pain in my chest because the shirt is pulling on the lumps.  I do believe I have one of my greatest fears ahead of me: Dealing with the social acceptance of me having breasts.  I am totally excited to see this coming, but I am soooo scared of the ignorant people that are out there.  People can be so rude and tasteless.

My other fear is my voice.  I’ve slacked for far too long to make it happen.  I don’t want to be the girl with a man’s voice.  I hate every second of it.  I hate to even talk in public.  I hate to be seen only because I fear being spoken to.  I don’t worry so much about my appearance, but what is actually going on in the person’s mind who has me before them who is almost certainly thinking, “this is a man.”  I don’t mind at all that someone thinks that.  That is fine.  I just don’t need to know that is what they are thinking.  So, if they hadn’t been thinking it, when I do speak they will be.

This problem needs fixed ASAP.  I’ve youtubed many different videos.  I understand what people have done.  I just need to get enough courage to make it a habit to talk in a different manner so I can get as close to a feminine voice as possible.  Time will help with that.  The muscle will tone and eventually it will be simple.  Through practice I should be able to work on tone and articulation (which is absolutely important, believe it or not).  The way I talk now is very masculine, very drone like.  This is not how I wish to sound.  I want much more emphasis, much more emotion, much more enjoyment when I speak.  I want to say things in a way that make people smile, not just say things that make people smile.

I guess I should address my personal daily attire while I’m at it.  Having thrown out all my ‘boy’ clothes back in April and only allowing myself my ‘girl’ clothes.  I’ve almost completely accomplished getting over my fear of social criticism of that.  I do still have a thing about skirts and dresses.  I hate my legs dearly.  I always wear leggings/knee high socks.  I don’t wear tank tops or short sleeved shirts that show a lot of my biceps.  My muscle is still very large there.  It screams ‘boy’ when I see them.  I don’t want to lose my strength, but I do want some muscle mass to just… go away.

‘Man’ hair.  I’ve notice a slight stalling in the growth of the hair on my face and chest regions.  It’s not very profound of a difference.  I do notice that my day one post shaving has much less growth than before.  Day two I definitely have a significant shadow.  I’ve been unable to decide if I can see a difference in the thickness of the hair.  I’ve still been shaving my chest, as well.  I had said before that I’d never do this again and that I would start waxing.  Turns out… waxing hurts a lot.  HAHAHAHAHA.   So, I’m still shaving all my body hair, and I have noticed that I’m having less and less issues with the in growns and infection.  Maybe this is due to a difference in skin maintenance.  I don’t know exactly.  I do appreciate it dearly, though.  No one wants sore bumps all over.

Anyways… this is where I leave you tonight…

OH!! I never posted my Halloween get-up!! So I leave you with this.

Love,

Joslyn

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Just Like Your Cupboards… I’m Completely Empty

It’s only a week away from my birthday and I can’t think of any reason as to why I could give much of a fuck to get out of the house and be around anyone.  I couldn’t be any more miserable.  Some blame it on the hormones I’m taking without prescription.  I know me well, though.  This is just what I do.  Anyone who’s known me for more than 5 years can say they know me in this predicament.

This has nothing to do with hormones.  This has nothing to do with love.  This has nothing to do with anything suggested.

I’ve been at this since January… JANUARY!!! I’ve accomplished nothing.  No hormones.  No vocal changes.  Even work sucks.  It’s pathetic to me… I am to fault.

I feel as if I am lying to myself when I say I like my image.  I really couldn’t be more upset about every inch of my body.  I’m failing myself to make any of this happen.

My family thinks I’m crazy… I’m just a freak.  I’m sure I’m just tolerated by many friends.  Hell.. I can’t even push the pronoun change on people because I don’t want to feel pushy or have them feel awkward.  I’m not doing myself any favors here.  I wanted to get to my counselor this week, but I couldn’t make an appointment in time.  Another two weeks I’m gonna have to wait to see her.  It’s been since May since I last went.   I’ve gone from incredibly happy to now being more miserable than a cat in a blender.

A tortured mind,
An indentured soul,
To a body I never wished to hold.
Well I’m stubborn,
And I’m a bother,
I hold more tears inside,
Than I will ever tell.

Alone and destructive,
I will pass the blues.
I will forget my existence.
I will depart from my whole.
Forgive me when I speak.
I can only promise that soon….
I will pass the blues.

Yep… and now I’m laying down to some sappy music…

Joslyn

Breaking My Back To Carry Excess Luggage

I don’t write much about my love for my ex.  Tonight I will.  I’ve been talking to her a lot in the last few days.  She’s single again.  My heart is still hers.  For now… it is still only hers.  I will never find what she gave to me.  I don’t care if I’m hurt again.  Love hurts.  That’s how it works.  She is beautiful. She is amazing.  She is my link in life.  I don’t understand why, but I would walk the rest of the world that I have not yet stepped foot upon for her.  I was engaged to her once.  That was my for life commitment.  It didn’t happen.  I was broken hearted.  I’m soooo stupid.   SO FUCKING STUPID!  Why do I do this to myself? It’s been 3 years that I’ve been away.  She’s like nothing else in the world to me.

Denied to protect me…. I need to be loved.  I’m fragile and I need it.  I’m just a girl without hope.  A lost soul with an eternity to regret what I could not save.  I’m a mistake made from birth.  I always seek the highest peak.  I will never be tall enough or strong enough or fast enough or smart enough to catch it.  I will never understand what it is that I fail at.  A broken heart I keep.  I cherish the love I’ve received and remember each scar every time I find myself in need to breathe deeply.  I’m a terrible mess with a terrible affection for a love I can’t let go of as she walks further and further away.

Head high because my heart is so low….

Joslyn