Today, I feel confident. I feel sure of who I am and what I want and who I want to be. I know it won't last, but right now I'm almost high on it. I can't get to sleep. I want to go for a run. I want to lose those fifty pounds right now, start hormones, grow chest hair. I want to drive trucks. Some might say I'm manic at the moment, and maybe I am, but I don't think so. I think I'm just having a moment of clarity.
I went to a trans support group tonight and all the stories people told there were tragic or awful, but for some reason I left there only more sure. Maybe it's because of what someone said: Why on Earth would we choose this? There's no reason to choose such a difficult path. If we could, we'd all just want to be comfortable with who we are and the bodies we're in but we're not.
I need to break loose. I need financial freedom. I don't have it yet, but someday I will, and when I do, it will finally be my life to live, not the life my parents dictate for me.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
New Psychiatrist
Today, I met with a new psychiatrist, after getting throughly fed up with the previous one finally. The straw that broke the camel's back there was a phone call in which she asked me to basically just say again what I'd already said in my message to her, then informed me there was nothing she could do over the phone, and I was welcome to call the office and attempt (hopelessly) to get an earlier appointment.
I really like the new guy though. It's sort of sad, because the things I liked about him were things you would think you should be able to take for granted in a psychiatrist--or any doctor really: He listened to me; he took a thorough history; he asked appropriate questions; he took notes as I spoke; and when I asked questions, he answered quickly and knowledgeably; and he was willing to have a discussion about the pros and cons of various treatment options, all while considering my opinions yet still being the doctor and ultimately calling the shots.
Tomorrow I'll try Ritalin again, at a higher dosage more times per day.
Oh, and:
6032 / 50000 words. 12% done!
I really like the new guy though. It's sort of sad, because the things I liked about him were things you would think you should be able to take for granted in a psychiatrist--or any doctor really: He listened to me; he took a thorough history; he asked appropriate questions; he took notes as I spoke; and when I asked questions, he answered quickly and knowledgeably; and he was willing to have a discussion about the pros and cons of various treatment options, all while considering my opinions yet still being the doctor and ultimately calling the shots.
Tomorrow I'll try Ritalin again, at a higher dosage more times per day.
Oh, and:
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Unexpected NaNoWriMo
It's been almost a year since I've written anything. Ten months, to be more exact. I can tell you exactly what happened to cause this long block, and it is a sad story familiar to all aspiring professional fiction writers: rejection by an agent. I'm not talking about the form-letter variety of rejection, either, which is still painful, but at least you can assume they just misread your query letter and thus accidentally failed to notice your obvious brilliance. No, this was the actual I-read-your-work-and-didn't-like-it variety of rejection. Complete with being actually laughed at. Oh, yes.
Now, I realize I have some trouble with rejection and criticism. I mean, perhaps even more than the average amount. I've been working on that for years, because, frankly, one cannot improve as a writer without being able to constructively take and use criticism. One can't improve at anything without that ability, really. Still, this was the death blow to a three-year project, which I was and still am extremely emotionally attached to, and it stung.
On top of that, I found myself kind of at the end of my journey with fanfiction. I wasn't a "Big Name Fan" exactly, but I'd gotten a fair amount of recognition for my most recent amateur fan works, and in that sense, I felt a bit like I'd accomplished what I could on that score. On top of that, my frustration with being tied to other writers' worlds, and to whatever they chose to do with those worlds and the people in them, had finally reached the breaking point. I wanted my own characters and my own world that I could have complete control over. I wanted something that would be truly mine, both creatively and legally.
Still, between losing fandom and the harsh realities of professional publishing, I got knocked off my feet a bit. I forgot what I really write for. Not money, not publication. I write for myself, and to entertain. I chose fanfiction originally because I could accomplish both of those goals, and also because, ironically, there is in fact a lot more freedom to write what you really want to write there. You aren't bound by the glacial speed of the publishing industries notions of what people "want to read."
So yesterday--November 1st--on the spur of the moment around ten a.m., I decided, what the hell! Let's do NaNoWriMo! I had no solid plans in place, but I had a handful of ideas I'd been tossing around and doing nothing with. So I picked one. And, yesterday, for the first time in ten months, I wrote again. And it felt great.
And thus, here I am: yet another writer, blogging into the void. And posting these little puppies:
5126 / 50000 words. 10% done!
Now, I realize I have some trouble with rejection and criticism. I mean, perhaps even more than the average amount. I've been working on that for years, because, frankly, one cannot improve as a writer without being able to constructively take and use criticism. One can't improve at anything without that ability, really. Still, this was the death blow to a three-year project, which I was and still am extremely emotionally attached to, and it stung.
On top of that, I found myself kind of at the end of my journey with fanfiction. I wasn't a "Big Name Fan" exactly, but I'd gotten a fair amount of recognition for my most recent amateur fan works, and in that sense, I felt a bit like I'd accomplished what I could on that score. On top of that, my frustration with being tied to other writers' worlds, and to whatever they chose to do with those worlds and the people in them, had finally reached the breaking point. I wanted my own characters and my own world that I could have complete control over. I wanted something that would be truly mine, both creatively and legally.
Still, between losing fandom and the harsh realities of professional publishing, I got knocked off my feet a bit. I forgot what I really write for. Not money, not publication. I write for myself, and to entertain. I chose fanfiction originally because I could accomplish both of those goals, and also because, ironically, there is in fact a lot more freedom to write what you really want to write there. You aren't bound by the glacial speed of the publishing industries notions of what people "want to read."
So yesterday--November 1st--on the spur of the moment around ten a.m., I decided, what the hell! Let's do NaNoWriMo! I had no solid plans in place, but I had a handful of ideas I'd been tossing around and doing nothing with. So I picked one. And, yesterday, for the first time in ten months, I wrote again. And it felt great.
And thus, here I am: yet another writer, blogging into the void. And posting these little puppies:
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