Tag: magick

magos

My decadent lifestyle takes a toll, cold symptoms and lack of sleep in parallel with stress. Will work it out, and worth it. But noticing I get super worried about everything in some moments, especially in chats. Absent explicit responses or emojis, whenever I write something, part of my brain often is convinced the other does not respond because I wrote or did something horrible that finally convinced them of how boring and useless and unkind I am, how it is not worth it to communicate with me, and that they will leave me. Part of me does fear that. But I know on some level this is irrational, it will be false 999999 times in a million. I keep worrying the present is the exception. This is one of my social anxiety tendencies, and I have had it for a long time, and it makes chat communication with me, especially within relationships, and especially in the evenings, difficult. It probably stems from having had such a low self-image for so long, the fears from which have stuck (and does this mean I have abandonment issues?).

It is why I generally prefer voice where I have so much more information to go on, but it can also be avoided if the other basically confirms we are still OK on an emotional level after I write something, easier with microsymbol languages like smileys. My overuse of these probably comes from me assuming other people will react like I do, which of course they actually don’t, they don’t need these confirmations but I always act as if they do.

But it also does not make sense others should have to help me manage my issues like that. I cannot dump it on my loved ones. I need to get a new therapist and ask specifically for help with this. And it is the central thing where I know both from meta-communication and from inner work that the Crone is needed. She can cut the threads of OCD spirals, she can decide that no, this is not something to worry about, what will be will be, they probably won’t stop loving you, you probably didn’t break anything that cannot be mended, it probably will be OK, and even if this is the one case in a million, you must stay sane and do what you are supposed to, not raise drama because you are afraid you hurt someone just because they did not respond.

The Crone for me is often about remembering that. I still can’t do it as well as I want, the fear is still there, and it’s still there because something within me still really really fears and worries I will be proven unworthy of my relationships and left alone, but my remembering her as symbol, perhaps I can learn to better cope and not dump that fear onto my loved ones to contain, which presumably hurts the relationships much more.

That said, when this came up tonight, biology perhaps played a part too. Changed my estrogen patches and feel a little calmer from that, it was past the end of the 3-day period so might have started to slump. Should get back to work.

process process

CW harassment.

Things were good yesterday, having dinner with a few friends then going out clubbing, despite some of us facing various sadnesses from other directions and along the path. Maybe this blog will eventually become some sort of mini reverse pervocracy, starting out talking transition stuff, then when that’s mostly in hand, just describing my day to day kink and decadence? Long story short, got to know a friend better than before during evening, realizing I am attracted and would like to be closer. Going out that evening, I therefore had hopes of something happening between us. Usually when I fancy someone I have difficulties because anything I can read as disinterest will make me pessimistic and withdraw emotionally, so I take no risks and ask for nothing; more importantly, the emotional withdrawal makes me less present in the situation, having less fun, being less available. It is mostly here that alcohol helps.

This night I somehow realized I could try to consciously ignore that mechanism, and I realized on the dancefloor that this is what the Maiden is about. She is naïve and happy enough that she does not interpret everything as rejections, so she remains happy and daring and sometimes she is lucky. I made myself present in my body as Maiden, and whenever I felt the alienation feeling of “I don’t grasp the codes” // “she is not interested” // “I am being embarrassing and stupid by doing/not doing this”, I felt her making a horizontal cut between the thought layers, like a lobotomy, not letting logic flow from the worry into inaction. Removing the cause but not the symptom; Frank too certainly was a Maiden. I just kept dancing, and when I felt there was chemistry, I gently expressed my interest, and learned some of the communication as it happened. I don’t think I’ve been this brave before like this.

I did get to know my friend better, and to sleep (though not very deeply) next to her, and to marvel at how she responds to touch, I’ve seen that sort of reactivity before and am jealous of it, hoping perhaps that I might gain it if I add progesterone to my regime. Will there end up a context where I’ve known most of my friendship circle(s) intimately at one point or another? Who knows. But looking back, that always was how I envisioned my life would be like, it’s part of my view on what is wholesome. Heh.

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On the way back from the club, my friend and I walked arm in arm and a guy followed us muttering lewd suggestions about “pussy” and “fucking”. He walked very close and it was the first time someone groped my ass, I realized after a while. All in all quite scary, and I was so happy to be there with a girl whispering to me she could take him out with her keys if she had to. He followed all the way to the subway, and I used the minimizing/ignoring/defuse by asking nonsense questions, noncommittal comments, soft distancing, just as I am sure women do every day with this. Still, I was especially afraid since I could not tell how he read us. Did he parse us as cis lesbians or just cis friends? Or did he clock us and saw as us some sort of down-low gay entertainment? The fear of homo-/transphobic violence was there and I could not say whether it was already upon us or not. Basically I feared he might stab us, or that we would have to fight. My companion said it would have been much worse had be not read us as cis, she interpreted us as passing to him throughout. And she fundamentally does pass as cis, so maybe so – this would be a silver lining, beyond just another experience shared with sisters everywhere.

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Confessed one crush, will see how that goes. Realizing another old friendship (and maybe two more or so) with smart boys may have been sort of crushes too. In one of those cases, not so sure I will never follow up on it. Hmmm.