I feel so alone.
And it’s my own fault.
Oh well.
hi.
You know, for a site that claims to be anti-porn, there sure are a lot of porn bots…
hi.
I quit writing.
Just thought you all should know.
I’ll finish what I can, but I give up trying to be published or make my family and spouse care. If I can’t get them to even pretend to care, who can I expect to care?
I know some of you really do care about my fanfics, and I see you, and will write what I can for you.
But I no longer seek to be a real author of original work. I never will be. And the sooner I accept that, the better.
Updates
Social Media and Online:
Tiktok: I fought Tiktok and won. I told them they banned me due to discrimination, the likes of which they never even bother with when it comes to literal criminals and predators. I told them that to censor someone queer and neurodivergent was pure bigotry, and if they didn’t do something about it, I would let everyone know. So they did something: they gave me my account back. Am I glad? Somewhat. I’ve stepped back from it a great deal due to what I discussed last time, instead focussing less online and more off social media, and that has been helping me greatly, both mentally and creatively. So there is a small victory.
Twitter: I am still fighting them on this one, especially when it comes to current events and why I was banned. They keep asking me to delete the tweet that made them suspend me, but whenever I mention I can’t even get into my account to do so, they don’t see the problem and have yet to even talk to me about it.
Photobucket: After almost 20 years of free service, Photobucket has decided to start charging their customers for access to their own photos. Not only that, the photos they once gave you access to and that you uploaded in trust are hidden behind a pay wall, and unless i subscribe for a monthly fee, I can’t even save the photos and delete my account. I am currently still fighting this, and they have yet to give me a good reason why they have done this and why they won’t even let me save my photos and leave.
COVID: Both Terry and I are still struggling with side-effects, even two months later, and as such, we’ve scheduled for the second booster shot. Everyone around me is saying how ridiculous it is that we need these shots, and I keep thinking, “You never had it, so how would you even know?” And 99/100 of the time, the person saying I’m being a hypochondriac either has never had COVID or isn’t even vaxxed. You simply do not understand how bad it is until you have it. It’s not just a “bad flu”. This disease has consequences, one that has caused a global pandemic that everyone has decided to ignore, and I personally am not interested in dying because of someone else’s ignorance.
Personal/Misc:
Jenny: On June 29, a childhood friend’s sister passed away suddenly of COVID-caused pneumonia and complications with diabetes. Her name was Jenny, and her sister is Julie. When I first heard, I sobbed my eyes out, despite never having had spoken to her in decades, nor her sister, even. This was due to two major reasons: grief, obvious grief, as she was only 40 (my sister Heather’s age), but she was a mother of three children. And her death was so avoidable and needless and tragic. She was a firecracker, a tough and no-nonsense person, who took little shit but gave a great deal with a smile and a hug. She was a force of nature, fierce and loyal, and also kind. So to hear of her death in such a sudden way was heartbreaking. The second reason is more selfish: it reminded me that death can happen at any time, without any warning, and can take anyone and everyone I love. And because Jenny was also Heather’s age, it’s even more terrifying. (More on her in a moment.) I went to the memorial, terrified of being there and ready to leave in case I was not wanted or welcome, holding Terry’s hand in my own. I walked in, looked around, and found Julie. Both of us were wearing masks, but it didn’t matter. Our eyes met, and in silence, we broke the distance and hugged, hard, crying. From such a tragic loss, something else was reborn: a hopeful friendship, renewed, with Julie. Julie, who is married to her childhood love and a mother of two, who still has that orange hair but finally has meat on her bones, a beautiful fluff. I am of course wary, but I have some hope that our friendship will rebloom. I need a friend.
Family: Heather’s pregnancy has bumped up early, meaning she will be giving birth to her second child, named Nicholas Basil, in a week. I am so happy and excited, but it seems to be that I am the only one. My mother is miserable about it. She thinks Heather is making a mistake having this baby, and is already blaming him for things when he isn’t even born yet. She hates him, for being male, for existing aside Ellie, his older sister, and thinks he will destroy the family and cause Ellie to regress. She want “nothing to do with him,” her own grandchild, because he was born late and a different sex. I told her off last week about this, but she doesn’t care. I honestly hope she either grows up once he is born, or Heather tells her off, too. I love my mother, so very much, but I would support Heather if she were to disown Mom over this, over her own disowning of a literal foetus, including not allowing her into Ellie’s life, anymore. Heather has that right, and if she’s going to be nothing but a demon to my nephew, I don’t want Mom near him or Ellie, either. She doesn’t deserve to have a relationship with Ellie nor Heather if she persists in doing this. We’re all worried and scared for Heather, as at 40, having her second kid will be very hard on her, which was another reason why I was so upset when Jenny died: it reminded me that Heather could, too. She could die giving birth to Nicholas, and then what? Nobody would love him, then, because they would blame him. But I would and will, specifically because of that. And I’m going to be his protector for the rest of my life, especially against his own grandmother. No grandchild should ever be treated that way. Ever. Least of all before he is even born!!
Marriage: I want to say things are well, and for the most part, they absolutely are: Terry continues to support and love me like always. But lately, sometimes, I feel distance between us. Our physical love has decreased a great deal, and while I usually am and able to label this under age, I’m also terrified it’s something deeper, something hidden, something he doesn’t want me to see or know. Or maybe I’m just projecting, thinking I am gross and unwanted because of my change in gender and looks. I’m not (just) a woman, anymore, and least of all the woman he married. I’m a genderqueer enby, fluctuating between what I see as a woman and something else, agender, undefined, and more and more, it’s becoming the latter. I’m terrified that my changes and expressions of this are off-putting, and the fact that I am changing is turning him off of me. We barely are together like that once a month, and even though I know we’re both on the ace spectrum, being who I am and having gone through what I have, I can’t help but read more into this than I probably should. Maybe it’s better not to, but I would rather be paranoid and catch something I missed than miss it completely. I just don’t know or understand what is or isn’t normal for relationships. Maybe comparison isn’t such a good idea, as it’s our relationship and thus one of a kind. I dunno. I just worry sometimes.
Writing: I haven’t been writing much at all, and it’s clearly hurting me. I have been getting great ideas for one of my series, but writing is slow. I’m not quite sure why, but as mentioned, once I stepped back for a bit and tried to prioritise, I’ve been mostly reading stuff, which in turn helps me imagine and think about my own words. Fanfic, usually a staple of my daily activities, has become dormant and almost dead, and several fanfics have been ended for those reasons. However, thankfully, I had a few breakthroughs over that time, so hopefully, I’m thinking that some of the fics I want to finish are now being worked on. I’m excited about it, but also worried it’ll absolutely suck. I just need to write it, get it down, and not worry so much about it being perfect (write high, edit sober), because the worrying is holding me back, when instead I should just be writing, just to get the story out. Like I surmised, death is unpredictable and comes without any warning; my biggest fear is to die with all my stories unwritten or unfinished. I want to leave my nieflings something…
Personal: I’m lonely. I’m very lonely at times. I spend my days alone in my apartment, a very wonderful luxury, yes, but also isolating. I do have hopes with Julie, but past experience has warned me to be cautious and wary. I can’t work, have no means of meeting people, and even when I do, whatever strikes up ends fast, because once people realise I’m autistic and mentally ill, they leave. I’ve spoken at length about this several times, only back then, I didn’t know it was my autism that kept myself apart from most of the world. Now that I do, I lack the patience or effort to wait for long and see if a person is worth being my friend. And yes, that sounds cold and arrogant, and I do not care. I’m old and lonely and tired. I just want one person I can see and hug and talk to once and a while, to help and be helped by someone who not only likes me, but understands me, and I don’t have the time or patience to work on friendships that are fake or only one-sided. It used to be that this person was my mom, but once I figured out my true gender and tried to talk to her about it, and was thus ridiculed and laughed at by her for it, I have since been unable to be my true self with her, anymore - especially when it comes to my future nephew, too. So I’m a lonely and sad housespouse who has no money to their name and nothing to show for their almost 40 years of life. Looking at myself that way, I can see why I have no friends. Maybe it’s better I don’t; I won’t have to say goodbye.
That’s all for now. Special shout out to @cypsiman2 for always sending me a kind word after a word-vomit like this post is, and I just wanted them to know that I appreciate them. Thank you.
I appealed my ban, and got my tiktok account back, because I accused them correctly of discrimination, especially bringing up how often they allowed transmisia on my page. I basically told them I would tell everyone the real reason why they banned me, and they got scared.
Small victories.
My TikTok account was banned because I’m pro abortion and queer.
Let me repeat that.
My TikTok account was banned because I am pro abortion and queer.
I was mass harassed and reported, and because TikTok is anti-everything, the status quo won.
I’m running out of social media. I’m running out of places to connect and express myself.
And then I think: who cares? Nobody. Why else would I have been banned?
Everything lately has been telling me to just give up, on everything, between friendships, being online, writing, life. I can’t help but see this as a sign for deeper than the surface.
Why am I bothering to express myself when everyone hates me? It’s been made pretty clear that the likes of me isn’t welcome 99%, so why am I still bothering to try?
Short update
I just did some minute research and discovered that I'm not the only one reporting hip and joint pain post-COVID. This is apparently a common thing, 15% of people report experiencing it. So hurray. I have another form of chronic pain to deal with, only this one is unpredictable and unresponsive to my usual medications and methods of pain relief.
I don't know what to even feel, anymore.
Update on this situation:
I went to my doctor at the height of the worst pain, and I got an X-ray and ultrasound done. By the time the tests arrived, the pain had subsided significantly, but the pain was so bad at points that I needed my wheelchair, but that day, I just needed my cane. The tests hurt, but showed nothing but perfect joints. So what I have is probably arthritis, triggered by COVID but not due to it.
I’m getting old. I’m starting to age. And now I have arthritis in my hip that, thankfully, now only responds poorly to weather and strain, and not just for no reason.
So I’ll be okay. It’s the kind of pain I can definitely handle, so long as I can still somewhat walk. For now.
I just want to live.