head ventilation

single

June 25th, 2023

15 years ago, on the August bank holiday, I met a guy at Bristol Temple Meads for the first time. It wasn’t just any guy. It was the guy who I’d arranged to meet for a not-a-date, date. Despite myself I fell for this guy. He was, still is, intelligent, witty, geeky, very caring, a bit derpy and extremely loyal. One month later when my mother died, he was immediately on a train to comfort me not half an hour after.

There were ups and downs, which is all par the course when it comes to any romantic relationship. There have been a few blow ups, loads of moments of hysterical laughter, many shared irritations due to other people, financial stresses, pregnancy issues, cat bereavements, and so much more shared history between us. The last few months, since I told him that I’m trans, things have been noticeably strained. His mental health issues have resurfaced and whilst I know work issues have not helped I’m the real cause of his anxiety and distress. We have previously said that we don’t know what the future holds but that we’d be friends. Honestly though we’ve been burying our heads in the sand about everything.

Today, in another out of the blue moment when one of us has built up sufficient mental courage to say something, there was The Talk.

We’ve decided that being a couple is no longer a suitable situation. I don’t want to be restricting what someone wants to do with their life, and I don’t want to be the cause for someone else’s pain. He feels the same. He is incredibly supportive of my transition, but he’s straight, and I’m asexual.

We are going to remain friends, best friends. How and who we tell about this I don’t know yet. But this is the first time in a long time that I can call myself single.

I’m not sure if I like it.
broken

May 28th, 2023

I said I would write more, specifically in here. And I haven’t. I’ve broken my promise because I’ve broken myself.

Big changes result in a domino effect. Everything is falling over. My partner; my understanding of who/what/how I’m supposed to be as a person; my friends; some of my colleagues.

I know this will all pass, just as everything before has passed. Where I will be once this has become the past, only time will tell.

What a load of wank.
thinking

February 22nd, 2023

I have been thinking thoughts. Which is dangerous. A lot of my thoughts being thunked happen at night, when I should be asleep. Instead they move around my brain in an unhelpful way for hours at a time.

With the bird site becoming increasingly not a place to be, the fediverse feeling still disjointed and quiet, other forms of social media requiring far too much in general to engage with, and being bad at talking with actual people, I’m trying to write more. Write more of my thoughts. When sober.

This was always intended as a place to offload the nonsense; to exit the swill from my brain. The name was explicitly chosen. A thing of great literature? No! Just a small way of recording the thoughts of another random person on the internet with some teeny tiny sense of accountability for myself. I can buy notebooks. I can buy pens. I can buy all kinds of lovely stationary. But I will put it down, either write one thing, once and then never look at it again, or just out and out, forget about it.

Which is exactly what I did with this blog for years. I forgot. As has everyone else. No, not this blog specifically, as no one knows it’s here. Blogging as a whole is a dead medium. It’s 3 minute videos or substacks or newsletters, which the latter certainly feels way more 19th century than anything else despite the current form being as technologically advanced as is possible.

So, I will write more. Write more often. Write more weird shit (likely). Write more self inflicted misery (very likely).

Just write!
out

February 20th, 2023

Today, after 14 and half years together, and living with the realisation followed by the swirling thoughts, self-doubts and the assumptions of everyone else, all by myself for far longer, I came out to my partner.

It wasn’t planned. Any intentions about how and when I would go about revealing the truth regarding myself completely flew out the window. It is definitely not a conversation I would have booked in for a late winter Monday evening.

They haven’t said that everything is over, that that is the end of life as I know it, as I had genuinely believed they would.

They said that I was valid.

They said they’d support me.

I don’t know what the future holds but knowing that I have a friend going forward for whatever comes dramatically helps.
confessional

February 11th, 2023

To my partner of 14 and half years:

There is a reason it bothers me so much.
There’s a reason why I have a problem with that language/terminology.
That game.
That person.
Those people.
There’s a reason why I can’t understand why you would want to play that game, given all that you have said, believe, apparently stand for.
There’s a reason for why I personally feel attacked and vilified because of “that” , and all of those things.

I am trans.

I am a trans man.

As much as I would like to run away from that, and everyone else, I can’t.

This is not something that I have suddenly come up. This is not something that has suddenly hit me. But also this is not something that I have been consciously trying to hide from you for years, because I was not actively aware it was there for years.

I know that that all sounds very contradictory.

Looking back, I can see it. All of it. But I couldn’t before. I have hidden so much of myself from everyone, including myself, for so long. Which is massively borne out of the environment I was raised in and the people raising me.

Trying to learn who I am whilst also trying not to hurt anyone is extremely difficult. It has been extremely painful. Especially as the more I have understood myself, the harder and more painful it has to hide and pretend who I actually am, to everyone else.

I want to medically transition. But under the current NHS system that’s not easy. Privately-paid for medical transition is slightly more possible (in terms of speed) but it means that all my other day-to-day living expenses have to become very tightly managed, or at least, don’t increase from what they are currently. However at the point I completely come out, I know everything in my life will change.

And this is thing that is ultimately stopping me from saying anything.
It will fuck everything, as we know it, up. I will fuck up any plans you may have for us. I will fuck up your world view. I will fuck up our relationship. I will fuck up our lives together.

I will fuck up.
Again.
sneeze

January 30th, 2023

I do like a good sneeze. Which is not a typical way to start a conversation, I agree. But one I very may well use the next time I have to engage in conversation with a stranger, or when asked for an “interesting fact” about myself as an ice breaker.

“And what do you do?”

“Well, I do like a good sneeze.”

And it does have to be a good one. Not one that forewarns that it’s approaching before disappearing back down to the depths, only to catch you completely off guard a while later. This’ll be at the point when you’ve conveniently completely forgotten about the first ahh-ahh hints, which results in you throwing a cup of tea over yourself, another, or the carpet; whichever way you look at it, is just a fucking diasater.

A sneeze that satisfies. Suddenly materialising, bursting into explosive life and then gone. Like an ignited firework (for some), a bubble popping (for others) or (some say) an orgasm. A dramatic release of tension, yes, but they aren’t the same. The mainstream porn and adult entertainment industry would be wildly different otherwise.

Some people experience sexually induced sneezing, which the treatment for appears to be snorting nasal decongestants. And considering it’s possibly to sustain groin injuries from sneezing, that may be wise.

There are people who sneeze because of the sun (photic sneezers, bright light or sunshine itself will trigger a sneeze). Loud sneezers have greater lung capacity, but as you can’t sneeze when asleep, you should be safe from a rude awaking if they are in the land of nod.

But never sneeze into open space.

Never sneeze on, or at, someone.

Good ettiquet is to a sneeze into a tissue, handkerchief, or similar disposable or recyclable thingamabob, or if no other option, the crook of the elbow.

I haven’t sneezed in 0 days.
recognition

January 19th, 2023

An unexpected thing occurred today. After almost 2 and a half years, a mental breakdown, and an enormous amount of swearing, my work place collectively recognised my efforts in attempting to modernise the team I lead. Completely unexpectedly within an all-staff Teams meeting, which just left me speechless and bright red. Not necessarily a good look, but it’s the one they got.

And there was me thinking that they didn’t even remember that I existed.
twitter

November 7th, 2022

Twitter has been taken over by a megalomaniac and they are doing their very best to ruin the continous dumpster fire that Twitter is. That seems like situation that shouldn’t be possible, but these are the days we live in.

January will, maybe, mark 16 years since I joined the “micro blogging” site. Blogging itself was coming to an end as no one wanted to maintain a self written, customisable website when you could just empty your brain for the actual world to read, without too much trouble or effort.

How humans now share thoughts and ideas, ideologies and theories, creations and innovations, death and destruction, pain and humiliation, lies and untruths is changing. The world order of text based sources is being abandoned for the picture, particularly for the movig picture. None of which that particularly novel but the way it can accessed to terms of delivery and consumption has been mostly democratised. Until it isn’t, and the capitalists smell the money and the power-hungry crave the control, then any freedom (of speech) and independence is stripped away.

Are we actually doomed to repeat all of the 20th century??!
pain

October 9th, 2022

Over the last 24 hours I have been dealing with IBS like symptoms. But I’m pretty sure IBS isn’t something that starts out of the blue, especially when you are in your 40s. I’m hoping it is that, or that my body has just decided to stop digesting food in a normal way now, and not something far more worrying and catastrophic.

Intense upper abdominal pain, with a huge amount of swelling in the same area isn’t a fun experience. And I’m sure the dizziness that comes along is because I’m not breathing normally due to the pain, and compression on my lungs. Not for any other reasons I’m refusing to google for. It’s just wind. Surely?! Trapped wind in someone who can’t force burps.

Liquids only tomorrow.

This is one, unexpected, way to lose weight.
hair

September 24th, 2022

I’ve never liked having my hair cut. The idea of a stranger touching my hair doesn’t sit well with me. Small talk isn’t my thing. Knowing what I want done with my hair, that’s another thing which has always baffled me.

With increasing and more constructive mental shifts, the desire to have a short hair cut has been a growing concern. But I’ve read about some less than helpful accounts from some about getting a suitable hair cut considering what I would like and the general vibe that I’m more attuned to nowadays.

So I’ve been trying to summon the courage to go to a hairdresser. I’ve always had long hair, chopping it all off seems so sudden, especially as I play with my hair a lot.

I decided to give myself a slightly more encouraging home cut. Just taking a bit more off than what was previous cut off with a so-called wolf cut, which resulted in feeling very meh about the result. (That may have been another clue) Just a step into the path to short hair.

Tie it up.

Cut, cut, cut.
Hack.

Snip. Snippy snip.
Snip.
Snip.

Hack.
Tiny snips.

OK. Take out the ties, and look in the mirror, with it down.

Oh fuck.

I’ve given myself the worst kind of mullet.
The suburban 70s mother. Sorry if that is your look.

Some people really suit a mullet, I do not, it turns out.

I’m now waiting for very recently purchased electric clippers to delivered and I might just shave it all off.

This is not quite the result I wanted.