May. 18th, 2013

prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 



I've spent the past 24 hours playing Space Funeral/ Earth Birth and Off, two beautifully bizarre RPG-maker games I've been meaning to play for some time. I've downloaded a bunch more to play in the near future (including Cave Story at long last, as my dream last night reminded me of it somehow) so that'll be cool. I will admit, though, that I am extremely picky with video games... if it doesn't "click" with me within the first hour at maximum, I'll abandon it. I only spend my time playing games/ watching movies/ etc. if I feel I am gaining something relevant from the experience, and if the experience doesn't drain me psychologically, in one way or another. Luckily, though, the two games I just mentioned were spot on successes.
I actually beat Space Funeral in its entirety about three hours ago (all 3 parts), and I loved every second of it. It also holds the honor of being the first thing to make me genuinely laugh in God knows how long-- I entered a zone called the "Cannabis Forest" and that was it, haha. Seriously, that game has my favorite style of humor: silly off-the-wall stuff like Dracula smoking weed and Leg Horse and "I am pleased with the selection of COMPLETE GARBAGE on sale!" And the soundtrack is GOLD; seriously it has stuff like this in there. So yes, I thoroughly enjoyed that game, thank you Tumblr.
I CANNOT wait to play more of Off, though (its style is even closer to my personal one, especially with the freaky angel/ghost stuff). I might put aside a few hours for it tomorrow, if I don't go to the MUM Expo... which is a good way to segue into the next topic.

As you probably know, there's a local holistic expo that I attend twice a year, whenever possible. However, this year I have limited access to transportation, and my finances are low. Since the place is mostly vendors, tarot readers, and people selling crystals/ paintings/ oils/ etc., I was seriously wondering... the whole trip would minimally cost me quite a bit of cash, what with gas money/ attendance fees/ buying readings if I wished, BUT the more I thought about it, the more I realized that all the stuff I could see or hear at the expo was stuff I already knew. (Here's a link to the recaps from 2011 and 2012, for personal review later just in case.)
But... I don't know. I would love to go, but the lack of cash is holding me back, and I don't want to shell out $50 and several hours of my time just to hear things that I didn't have the nerve to believe on my own.
That's really my big gripe with spiritual things in general right now, at least as far as "I" am concerned. I feel like I keep handing over all of my personal choices, all of my future possibilities, everything, to those who "know better than me." There was a time earlier this year when I wouldn't even leave the house without checking and comparing several horoscopes first-- God knows where that came from-- because I was utterly convinced that THEY knew my life better than I ever would. And, when I really look at my motivations for wanting to go to this Expo... they all boil down to that exact same thought: "I'm not good enough to make my own choices in life. I need to pay a spiritual person, a good and holy person, to make those choices for me. I need them to tell me who I am, where to go, and whether or not my own thoughts and feelings are true or real at all."
Honestly, if that's the sort of attitude I'd attend the expo with, I think I'd be better off not going, despite the shocks of "fear" and "hate" that spring up at the thought: fear at "abandoning my only hope of salvation," and hate at "being such a selfish pompous bastard to dare even consider that I could find the "right answers" on my own." Same thing, different phrasing.
I'm not sure how to overcome this mindset yet. I've tried to just abandon it. It keeps coming back.

I haven't been eating well, again. I've been eating nothing but beans and salad for about four days, and throwing up for about an hour afterwards each time. The feeling of food in my stomach is still traumatic. The image of this body in the mirror is still traumatic. Throwing up and having all this water pouring from my face and not being able to breathe isn't fun either. Put it all together, and the simple fact that I can't starve myself to death is sapping my will to wake up in the morning all over again.
I'm tired of spending entire days doing nothing but eating, purging, and sleeping. Problem is, when I try to do something else, my lingering lack of emotions makes it either incredibly difficult or downright impossible. That's why I was so enthralled by Space Funeral today. It was simple enough that my brain could easily just walk around mindlessly, but the bits of humor actually had me feeling something for the first time in a long, long time. Looking back on it, though, it feels alien and distant, like I wasn't even the person playing the game at all. Maybe I wasn't, who knows. I can't tell anymore. I don't know who I am anymore. Maybe this is just the autopilot typing again. It's very likely; that seems to be the norm.

Hyperbole and a half recently posted a very relevant comic on this whole phenomenon I'm experiencing, actually, which makes me wonder. Am I depressed? I would never think so, as I don't feel anything and I don't cry or do anything like that... but her presentation of the condition hit so close to home it was rather unsettling. Several parts are almost exact quotes from my own life. So it's worth considering.
Speaking of relevance, I just started reading "When Rabbit Howls" by Truddi Chase, a multiple system consisting of over 90 individuals. Already only 10 pages in, this is reflecting my life just as strongly as "First Person Plural" did. I'm apparently still a victim of denial's bloody rake, though, to quote Cameron. No matter how much proof I get that, yes, we DO exist and we ARE a real, legitimate system just like theirs, I will deny it vehemently. "It's fake." "I'm making it all up." "I'm just a liar and a manipulative narcissist." I believe those statements, not the other ones... I don't believe it when I hear "we exist and we care about you," or "I was talking to Laurie today," or "you're not a bad father," or "I really do love you." I'll face all those statements with a poker face and a steel-cold response of "none of this is real."
And I'll sleep my days away, not even remembering my dreams because how can you remember dreams if you don't even remember your self? How can you dream if you don't exist?

I'm going to shut down for the night anyway. I'm so tired of computers. I need to be careful... all my music programs are on this one, so no matter how badly I wish this one would break, too, I can't let that happen, or that's several hundred dollars and several years of work down the drain (again).

One "good" thing... my mother actually approved my decision to start hormone therapy over the summer. I did not expect that.
The problems that remain: finding transportation to Philadelphia, finding a place to stay once HRT begins, obtaining enough money to fund all of it, explaining this to the rest of the family.
That's quite a list yet but at least we're moving. I can see my future a tiny bit now, and when I'm tuned into the fact that "this can be a reality at long last," all my procrastination and fear and self-doubt evaporates, and suddenly life feels worth living again, for a moment.
Then the horrible fear that "she was right, this makes you a heathen and a devil and a sinner, you were born in this body so stay that way, any pain and suffering you have is selfish and sinful and false. If you transition, you will be damned to hell."

At the end of the day, I'm still dying, bit by bit by bit.

 



 

 

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