CAPTAIN'S BLOG
Where am I in your life?
Will I be able to handle the times that I can't keep up? When I need to stay behind, and you go on without me, will you still think of me? What am I even doing. None of this matters. It's all me, it's all my problem, it's all stuff I need to work on. You don't need to worry about it. You don't struggle with these problems. I'm going to miss my life. It's going to pass me by. Why bother trying to keep up? I wish I was someone else.
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I am supposed to be working on something else, so this will be quick, but in regards to my last post, I have concluded that I need to be more vulnerable and connect more fully with Foxx.
I am afraid. She is a truly wonderful woman, and it will be devastating to lose someone like her, to rattle her cage like Freya has rattled mine. But I love Freya, and connecting with her emotionally, though occasionally regrettable to be fair, has been extremely rewarding and revolutionary for my life and my wellbeing, and I love her because of it. The complicated nature of our relationship is what gives it strength - I know it is resilient from our baser natures because it has been tested and it has survived. We forgive each other. We grow. We understand. We put those voices we steal from one another to away forever together. And that is the kind of relationship I want with Foxx. A real one. Hopefully one where I can apply what I've learned with Freya from the start, instead of cobbling it all together in the middle of a crisis. I'm just You know A walking bundle of anxieties and fears and insecurities... and when I think about how she's described others, who were hurting more than she could handle... she would try for me, right? She would take the time for me right? I know what it's like to love someone who needs more than I can offer. It's painful. I feel like if true, it's already too late. If she reads something like this, she'll know - and she'll keep a distance between us. Alright. Enough. Time to get out of my head. Please. Jesus christ where to start. This is going to be a very painful blog post for me. But I think if I don't write it down, I will never move passed it. This post is for me to heal. If you want to know what I'm going through, feel free to continue. I usually share this blog with people who are important to me. I don't know if that is a good idea or not. I'm very honest in here, and I express ideas that I otherwise would reject. But I need to air the bad ideas to recognize that they are bad. I don't want to install my judgmental voice into the heads of my lovers though. So maybe... don't read this, unless you are prepared to hear me at my most judgmental, cynical, frustrated... And can forgive me.
I want so desperately to heal. To be the woman I feel like I am inside. But anyways. That comes later. I'll start at the beginning of my day I guess. Today I had my first real vocal lesson class. One on one. Over video call. It was great, she's clearly a great teacher. I of course cannot afford it. My mum and my girlfriend said they would help pay for it. Thank fuck for both of them. It was also excruciatingly hard. I mean, it's no wonder I could only get to nonbinary before. I have literally none of the tools I need to really do what I'm trying to do. It is also, philosophically, intensely frustrating for me. I hate it. I hate that I need to do this just to fit in to society. I hate that I need to perform to be seen as the person I feel like I am. I hate that I feel pressured by society to change myself. I resent them for it, for this pressure, for this expectation. Fuck you. Fuck you all for doing it, fuck you all for forcing me to do it too. We could have done something, as a people. United. But what? There is nothing to do. Foolish! She told me something that I did not know, as well: that we lower our voice boxes (and thus our adam's apple) when we socialise as boys voluntarily. I'm still processing how that affects my beliefs. Which, to be clear, are stupid. They are reactionary. The beliefs of a wounded woman, angry at the world which is indifferent at best and outright hateful at worst. There's a song by The Coup that goes "...When you gotta decide between what's good for you, and what's good for the struggle." And the fact is, I don't like my current voice. I don't have a voice I feel comfortable communicating in, really. It's disappointing to hear that my best voice is nonbinary. I don't have a good ear for things either. I just don't have the tools to change my voice, and it frustrates me when I see people who do. And what I want is control - I don't want to be doing something that I don't understand. I don't feel comfortable performing when I do not feel like I have control of myself or my body. And that is something I've come to appreciate I struggle with a lot. I had no idea how frustrated it made me, for years and years I've been carrying around this existential frustration at my body. It is a mystery to me. I don't know what muscles are called, and I don't know where they are and I don't know how to access them. When other people can, it makes me really frustrated at myself. Why didn't anybody tell me? Why didn't anybody help me? How could the system have failed me so badly? Which is such a silly thing to think. The system has literally failed me in every possible way my entire life. I've seen it fail people who needed it, people who wanted it, and people who didn't even notice it failed them. And it's failed me over and over and over. And that's just my body - then there's this aspect of performance that my girlfriend talks about. I don't know how I feel about it. If someone I didn't care about so deeply had said it, I would reject it. But I feel like, I am not a performer. I do not want to perform when I go to the store. I don't want to perform when I answer the phone. I don't want to perform when I'm depressed or tired. Performing is exhausting. I perform every second of my life, hiding my unusualness from others. Performance hides shame. So does frustration and anger. What does it mean then? This is something that will become natural and effortless to me. Does talking in a relaxed voice feel good to me either? No. I genuinely dislike the way it reverberates and the way it makes me feel. Is not performing making me happy? Is looking at this through her lense the right idea? Perhaps not. She is a very intelligent woman, but that doesn't mean her ideas are a drop in replacement for my own. I don't think thinking about this through the lense of performance is right for me. It makes me very uncomfortable. But performance implies the potential for failure. So what then? Now I am once again an island. Where to from here? I don't know. I'll just do what I'm told and practice as best as I can. She said by the third lesson I'll believe I can permanently change my voice. Goddamnit I don't wanna talk about this next part so bad. I'm putting it past a break. CW: Freya, my sweet focksie, if you are reading this, this would be a good place to stop. I'm talking about my insecurities with Foxx, which will include details. Don't forget I love you. |
AuthorChristina Hitchens is a trans female writer living in BC, Canada. She loves computers, animals, and a good argument. Archives
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