Thursday, July 21, 2011

Changes and same old same old.

Changes and same old same old. I woke up and knew instantly that there had been a big improvement in my body. I just felt more expansive, comfortable and normal, having lost a little of the cramped miserable, pinched feeling that I have been dragging around in my body for months now. A check in the mirror confirmed it. I got my extra set of ribs back. It has left Mengele's cow boobs drooping and flopping like a dying plant, but I don't care. I know those things aren't going to be on me for much longer.

I guess the negative Sirians, and their human agents, the Jesuits and Christofascists took a step back from stupid and gave me a small piece of my God-given body back to me. My body was designed to flow energy through the way God planned it, not the way those stupidass hacks have mutilated it. One small victory, but the ball needs to roll much further and faster.

I have decided that I am half dead all of the time because the estrogen is making me so goddamned dead to reality. The stupid motherfuckers don't even seem to have a clue. I am walking around all zombied out, not caring what the fuck happens to me, and they are all proud smiles, thinking I am "feminine". I am not "feminine" you dumb fucks I am half dead, and struggling to stay on top of what is going on in the world.

This is important, because there is something major I need to understand, but the mind is too lazy, sleepy, and unfocused to actively engage the material I am reading. I have been very sloppy the past few days, just skimming headlines and not doing my usual fact checking with other research data and my intuition. Now, though I need my mind working at full capacity to understand what is breaking, and goddamned it, I need about 40
testosterone tabs a day to feel normal. I am not exaggerating. My body is desperate for testosterone, but the stupid motherfuckers who play control games with my life are all excited about having another female saint that they can control and use to boost their own sense of manhood, instead of owning up to their manhood WITHIN THEIR OWN SELVES. That is the definition of the patriarchal male, and I know I am doing a poor job of explaining this, but the estrogen has my brain putt-putting and misfiring on two cylinders.

In the long run, it is not going to matter. I know who I am and what I want, and I am ready for the real changes that, hopefully, will give me back my joyful and zestful that I once knew as an intersexed, lesbian woman. Even approximately. However, tonight and tomorrow, I have to struggle through this latest curveball--and it is so hard when I am so zombied out that I am walking around, bumping into walls.

No comments: