Pumpkin Wings

I’m alive. Everything’s pretty much like always, except I’m extremely stressed out about my economy (haven’t had an income since June) - especially as Emil’s birthday is on Thursday and Thomas’ is next week I believe. Oh well, I’ve managed to get them gifts.

I’ve taken my sleep pills and shouldn’t write too much, because I’ll get totally carried away if I do, but I just wanted to say that I finally got a time for a meeting with a gender specialised psychiatrist. It’s on January 5, but hey, I expected to have to wait. There are only two of those clinics in Sweden as far as I understand it, and I’m blessed with one just a short train ride away.

I’m so confused about my gender atm. I’ve discussed it very seriously with Emil, and he’s being supportive. He says if I get a sex change he probably won’t break up, but he really can’t picture the situation and thus can’t promise anything. He swears he won’t break up if I get a beard, though, and he won’t be ashamed of showing himself together with me. This year I’ve really felt stronger and stronger that I do want a sex change, but it’s not worth it if I lose him. As much as I’d like to have a penis, people won’t notice anyway. I don’t tend to show myself naked in public. A beard on the other hand can take away any doubt when I want people to look at me as a man, but I can shave it off when I want to dress lolita or such. Or leave it, if I feel rebellious.

The lolita thing is one of the things that make me so uncertain. I feel very strongly and deeply that I should be a man, but then again I’m attracted to men (I don’t want to say straight or gay atm, so you’ll see me use the word androphile), and I change my clothing style with my mood. Somedays I dress like a casual guy, sometimes I dress casually but with a skirt or dress, sometimes I wear very androgyne clothes. I wear old school metal clothes sometimes, decora-influensed sometimes, lolita sometimes, seizure-inducing neonfest sometimes, all white sometimes, a casual buttoned shirt with jeans sometimes… I don’t stick with a style, I do most of them.

So, if I was to say that I really am a man, I would be a transexual, gay crossdresser. Now trans-communities make it very clear that this exists, but it’s just too far-fetched, it’s just a “that won’t happen to me” kind of thing, one that I feel that people would never ever take seriously. It’s killing me - I just want to know who the fuck I am!