April ‘08 Mixtape
It’s been awhile since I’ve posted up a mixtape and I figured since I was making one for Mandy, I might as well post it up here and share it with everyone else. Usually I post mixtapes that revolve around a theme, however, this one doesn’t. Not really anyway.
These are all songs that I heart. Surprisingly, Mandy didn’t know most of these, so I’m not sure how many people will know some of these. That’s a good thing though. This one is going to be a bit different. You can listen to the tracks and then download them separately instead of downloading them in one giant zip folder. Here’s the track list. You can click on the song title to listen and download individual tracks. (Right-click, save as… for download.)
The Tracklist
- Lounger - Dogs Die In Cars
- Men’s Needs - The Cribs
- White Collar Boy - Belle and Sebastian
- Parentheses - The Blow
- A Good Man Is Easy To Kill - Beulah
- Southern Belles Sing In London - The Faint
- Campus - Vampire Weekend
- Gronlandic Edit - of Montreal
- Tall Green Grass - Cory Branan
- Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss - Built To Spill
- Breakin\’ Up - Rilo Kiley
- Heretics - Andrew Bird
- And We Fell - Lucero
- We Used To Vacation - Cold War Kids
- They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back From The Dead!! Ahhhh! - Sufjan Stevens (Note: This is an m4a file. I can’t find an mp3 that I can upload that isn’t huge, but hopefully I’ll be able to find something soon. Til then, download and enjoy it as an .m4a file.
- Daisy Chains - Youth Group
- Smoke Like Ribbons - Ugly Casanova
- The Prodigal Son - Two Gallants
- You Are A Light - Pavement
Oh and Mandy, don’t forget that I’m sending you the cd. You get a special, personal note to go along with the mixtape. You are special.
A balance between then and now
Butch Walker - Maybe It\’s Just Me
The past couple of weeks I’ve been spending most of my time with my family. It’s really weird because I don’t ever recall spending this much time with them, even when I lived at home previously. And I don’t just mean my parents; I’m talking sisters, grandparents, and almost everybody really. I’ve never been one to give parts of me away slowly; I usually tell mostly everything that I’m comfortable giving all at once. Hence, my rushing into things. I realized, however, that I can’t do that with my family. My relationship with them needs to develop slowly, I need to be able to trust them, and I need them to know that I’m not who they think I am. That’s something that’s going to take time.
Yesterday, my sisters (all three of them) and I were in the kitchen, eating lunch with my Dad. He was about to leave for work when he said that we should be nice to my Mom today because it was the anniversary of my grandmother’s death. I didn’t remember it until he said it, but as soon as he opened his mouth and said that we should be nice to Mom, it clicked in my head and I tried to give him hand gestures to shut him up. My two youngest sisters are really emotional about my grandma’s death and I wanted to avoid any sort of extreme emotion. But he said it and he couldn’t take it back.
Andrea began crying, the ugly cry, Nicole tried not to cry but I could see the tears forming in her eyes, and Steph got a bit angry. She’s bitter that all she has to remind her of Grandma is a cookie jar. She was upset that my Grandpa gave me a ring. Seriously, why does it matter? I find it interesting that we all had completely different reactions about it and I think that it says a lot about who we are. As for me, my initial reaction was to change the subject or make them laugh. That’s usually my first reaction for most things. That’s not always a good thing and I used to not be able to recognize that. The past few years I’ve learned when to be serious and when to crack a joke though.
I often think about the past but tend to avoid thoughts about anything that would remotely bring in a flood of different emotions. This would be one of them. It’s not so much that my Grandma died that bothers me; of course I miss her and it was unexpected but I can’t change the fact that she’s dead. But her death changed me; this is when I really began to pull away from my family. However, that’s not because of her death; it’s what happened to everyone around me that I did that.
Nine Years Ago
I had just fallen asleep after not being able to get to sleep for a few hours. I believe it was the end of Spring Break because I remember missing a week of school after the funeral because I would break out in tears at random. It was a little after midnight when two of my sisters came into my room crying. I’m usually a heavy sleeper and I can sleep through Earthquakes, but I woke up almost instantly that night.
They told me that my grandma had died. I thought that it was a joke. Neither of my grandma’s could die, or my grandpa’s. They were all invincible to me, almost immortal. I had been to plenty of funerals in the years previous to this, so I wasn’t new to the idea of death, but it hadn’t been that close to me yet. One of my Grandpa’s had colon cancer when I was in 8th grade and that was scary and I knew that he could die, but he didn’t. And besides, my Grandma was too young to die; much younger than my Dad’s parents.
I still thought it was a joke but my little sisters were crying so I climbed out of bed. One of my sisters was on her knees in the hallway, crying. I can’t remember which one it was now but that’s not really important. When I went downstairs, my mom was crying, my dad went to pick up my other Grandma to watch us while they went to see everyone. Just before they left my mom broke down. She started jumping up and down, throwing a tantrum like a two year old, screaming that she wanted her mommy. I hadn’t cried up until that point, but when I saw that, I cried. It wasn’t so much that my Grandma had died that made me cry; it was that I saw my mom that way. It’s not a bad thing; what happened to my Mom is something that a lot of people do, but I had never seen my Mom do anything like that before. It scared the shit out of me.
I made a decision then that I wouldn’t ever do that. I couldn’t imagine ever being in that much pain and shock; I could never imagine feeling that much loss or wanting something so bad that I did something like that. It sounds kind of stupid now, but that had been my life’s mission from that point on until just recently. To never get close enough to anyone so that when they were no longer around, I wouldn’t ever do that. I didn’t want to ever feel that much pain.
Currently
I never imagined that I’d be faced with so many things all at once; things that are out of my control (which I hate in and of itself) and things that I wish I could change. It’s always hard to deal with a break up, but that’s just one of the things that I’ve been trying to deal with recently. There are health issues that leave a taste of uncertainty in my mouth, there are familial relationship issues that I’m working on, and then there’s the ever-present who the fuck am I.
I’ve been avoiding my past for a really long time. Yea, there are some horrible things that have happened and that I’ve done, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t deal with these things. I’ve used it all as an excuse for far too long.
Yesterday I spent part of the day reflecting on what I’ve done so far in my life and another part looking ahead, but I spent most of it in the present. I didn’t look back most of the day, I didn’t look forward, I just stopped and enjoyed what I was doing right then.
I did some more yard work with my Grandpa. We put up part of a fence and we only did half of this one part of the yard. My Grandma asked him if he was going to finish that part and he said no because it looked good the way it was already. She said that she didn’t understand why he would do that and I said that it was art, and it wasn’t supposed to make sense. My Grandpa enthusiastically agreed with me and that was the end of that. That still makes me laugh a little bit.
And then I hung out with Andrea and Nicole. It’s weird hanging out with them sometimes because they are so much younger than I am. On top of that, we’re so different from each other, and that just makes them annoying most of the time. But we had a really good night last night. We bought ice cream (even though I’m not supposed to have any but I decided to live a little), we went to Wal Mart and they helped me pick out some cologne/body spray/ deodorant. We all ended up smelling like a bath house after words. On the way home I saw a traffic cone and I figured what the hell, might as well take it. There wasn’t any reason for it being there, except that it was left behind after a road crew filled in a pot hole last week. So we took it. That was hilarious. Sure, it’s a traffic cone, big deal, but that’s not the point.
Last night, my sisters and I bonded over ice cream, a stupid and meaningless trip to Wal Mart, and a traffic cone. And in the process, I cheered them up. If all my days could be like that, then I would be happy.
I’ve never been very good at reflecting on my past but yesterday I took a drive to wear my family had spread my Grandma’s ashes. Mandy will appreciate this: it was at Rock City Park, where there’s a bunch of rocks. I walked around, climbed some rocks, sat down and wrote in my journal. I watched the sun set and realized that while I may not be where I want to be in my life - living at home, single, and lost - I wouldn’t change it. I appreciate who I am right now in my life, and I wouldn’t be who I am right now if it weren’t for my past.
Holy crap
I’ve been walking around in clothes that no longer fit me for almost two months. I knew I had lost a lot of weight, I knew I had dropped a couple of pants sizes, and I knew that my shirt size has changed. Even my boxer briefs no longer fit me.
I went shopping the other day and bought a new pair of pants and a new shirt. I was shocked. I don’t ever try anything on in the store, so I buy it, bring it home, and try it on eventually. I tried the shirt on first. I bought an XL and it was perfect. Slightly baggy, not tight at all. You know how long it’s been since I’ve been able to fit into an XL like that? The shirt didn’t really surprise me though. I’ve been wearing some XL shirts around and while they were a bit tight, they still fit. The pants however were a shock. I bought a 40 waist size, because I used to wear a 44 or 42. I tried them on yesterday and the 40’s are still too big. I took them back, got a 38 this time, tried them on at home, and they are still a bit big, but if I were to get anything smaller, it would be a bit tight. I’m wearing a 38 waist size!
I really shouldn’t be happy about losing so much weight, because it isn’t healthy and certainly not good for me, but I’m pretty happy that I’ve lost enough weight to change pant sizes.
I’m doing really well though. I’m more active than before. I do a lot of yard work, I’m going for short bike rides, I’m starting to go for walks. If I push too hard than I have to rest for about two days, but I’m slowly building up my stamina. On my first bike ride, I couldn’t ride longer than 5 minutes before my heart felt like exploding. Now I’m able to bike about two miles before I feel like that. I’m hoping that by the end of the month, I will be able to ride my bike around the bike trail once. It’s five miles long.
Aside from all of that, I’m generally doing well. Last Sunday, for the first time in I don’t know how long, I went to Mass. I grew up in the Catholic Church, was quite active in it during high school, and then when I realized that I couldn’t hide who I am anymore, I stopped going to Church. I never stopped believing in God, no matter how many times my sisters and my dad try to twist my words around to mean such.
The difference between my belief in God in high school and my belief in God now, is that I don’t believe in religion. I have a great deal of Faith, but I don’t consider myself Catholic, Christian, or any organized religion. My beliefs come from many different places, beliefs, religions, and faiths. I don’t believe that a human Pope is infallible. I don’t believe that it’s wrong to be who you are, whether you are Gay, Lesbian, straight, or Transgender. I don’t believe that acts of love shared between two people of the same sex are a sin. Mostly though, I look at my parents. My mom isn’t Catholic and she doesn’t go to Church, either at a Catholic one or Apostolic (which she is.) My Dad goes when he feels like he has to go.
I can’t participate in a religion where I don’t agree with many of their most important doctrines. I can’t participate in a religion that I really have no ties to. I don’t need religion to have a deep faith in God. Sunday I went to humor my dad. He says the biggest problem in my life is that a) I don’t believe in God, b) that I don’t go to Church, and c) that I don’t go to Confession. No matter how many times I try to tell him that I believe in God, it doesn’t sink in. I don’t go to Church because I don’t believe in organized religion. And I don’t need to tell someone my sins when I can tell God directly. And wait, when was the last time he went to Confession? When he was 16 and made his Confirmation. I asked him. So, a) if you’re going to tell me to go to Confession, don’t be a hypocrite about it, b) if you’re going to tell me that I need to go to Church, don’t be a hypocrite about it. Hypocrites aren’t the reason I don’t believe in organized religion, although that’s what initially started my doubt in it.
Oh, and another piece of advice from him: I should pray. I’m sorry I don’t make it more obvious to people that I pray. I pray constantly. I talk to God more often than I talk to anyone else in my life. But I didn’t know that I should get into prayer position and flaunt it around in front of my dad to prove that I pray.
Yes, I’m a cynical person. Yes, I make mistakes (big ones). But I didn’t know that being cynical and making mistakes meant that I didn’t believe in God. Or maybe it’s because I’m Transgender that I don’t believe in God. My dad also blames the Internet for me being Trans. He thinks I’m feeble-minded and gullible and that whatever I read will influence me so deeply that I would say anything and believe anything. I’m not Trans because of something I read or saw or heard. I’m Trans because I was born this way.
Wash it away
I’m shaking as I write this, not for any particular reason, well maybe there is, but that’s neither here nor there. I’ve been away from the computer for the past few days, reading, thinking, trying to live normally for once. I hopped on the computer today to write a post, the topic which escapes me now, but that doesn’t matter, because this is more important.
There are a lot of things in my life that are fucked up. There are a lot of things that I can change, things that I would like to change but probably can’t, and things that won’t ever change. It’s hard to let go of fear, to realize that the way things turned out are directly caused by my fear of these things, and that you are the reason why so many people have been hurt. And no, it’s not just about Ness or Gaby, or the people I’ve dated. Yes, I’ve hurt them in ways that people shouldn’t ever be hurt, I’ve let them down, disappointed them, kept things from them that I shouldn’t have. Looking past all of those things, why did I do that to them? Why do I hurt people? Why is it that I’ve spent my entire life running from the people that cared about me, from responsibility, and from myself? I’ve been so consumed by fear that I couldn’t see that the problem was never anyone else; it was me.
I’ve always kept one foot out the door, trying to keep my options open. That’s a bit ironic, since I didn’t want any options. I was happy with who I was with, I was just never happy with myself. It’s hard to commit to someone when you’re so committed to nothing. My favorite saying as of late has been douche bag, and I’ve been busy using it on anyone and everything, that I didn’t realize the reason I was using it so much was because that’s what I am. I’m a douche bag.
People have always said that they see great things in me. I never saw it. I never believed them. Good people don’t hurt, they don’t lie, they don’t pretend that there isn’t anything wrong when there clearly is, they don’t take and take and give nothing in return. Words mean nothing when not backed up by something tangible, something that can be seen or done. Words are just words and have no meaning until you show it somehow. I thought that words were enough because I never thought that I was ever good enough to really let someone hold onto me. To be honest, I still don’t think I’m worth very much, but that’s beginning to change.
I haven’t been very fair to the people in my life. We’ve all tried to come out on top, to look the best, to sound the best, but the truth is, I don’t deserve the top. I’ve tried to tell things the way they are, but the truth is, it’s hard to do when you know you’re going to come out looking like the biggest piece of shit on Earth. Well maybe not the biggest, there’s a lot of competition for that title, but pretty close to the top.
I deserve to be yelled at, I deserve to feel guilty, I deserve to be slapped, kicked in the face, tarred and feathered. There are a lot of things that I deserve and I’ve been lucky that most people have just said that I have a lot of potential, that really I’m a good person underneath, and that I just need to get my shit together. All of those are very true. To be honest, everyone has been easy on me. Not that I’m complaining. I’m not. But I don’t deserve for people to be easy on me.
I should have realized a long time ago that I was never ready for what I wanted. I wanted a life with someone, I wanted kids and all those grown up things that grown up people should have. And I had two chances to do that. I was just too stupid, blind, and immature to see that I had it right in front of me. I took advantage of it, of them.
The truth is, I’m full of shit. I always have been. I’m spoiled, I’m careless, I’m disrespectful, I’m an asshole to the tenth degree. I say things sometimes that I don’t mean, I do things that contradict the things that I really do mean, and I’m a huge waste of most people’s time.
Most people spend the better part of the first 20+ years of their life growing up. I wasted it, trying to blame everyone else for what’s happened, blaming everyone else for the confusion I feel, the hate that I hold in my heart, and the anger that battles on inside of me. There’s no one to blame. No one. I hurt those people, I hurt Gaby, I hurt Ness, I hurt my parents, and I hurt myself. I’m to blame. Not everyone else. Me and only me.
Why am I not close with my parents? Because I don’t want to be. Yes, they hurt me, but I’ve hurt them just as much. Sometimes I wish that I could go back in time, to the night they decided I was to be born, and tell them to get a fucking clue. If they had only known what I’d turn out to be then maybe they would have thought twice, maybe three times, before they decided to not use birth control.
Why did Gaby and Ness dump me? Because I took advantage of them. What can I really say to that? There’s no excuse for that. None. I had no reason to do what I did. I was so selfish, so afraid, so…stupid.
I’m painting a pretty horrible picture of myself. I may sound depressed, psychotic even, but I assure you I’m not depressed and I might be psychotic. In fact, aside from a few hiccups here and there and the fact that I was dumped and lost a really amazing person and hurt her in ways that people shouldn’t be hurt, I’m doing quite well.
The only reason I am writing all of this, is because I now realize that I am better than the person I have become. I do have potential. There is something good inside of me. I’m tired of hiding, of pretending, of keeping things from the people that I really love. I’m tired of being selfish, afraid, and stupid. I’m just tired.
No, I won’t forget what I did to people. I won’t forget all the hurt I’ve caused. I’ll always carry that with me. I’ll always remember. I’ll always feel horrible about it. But before I think about those things, I’m going to remind myself that I’m better than that, or that I can be better than that. Because I am, and I will be, and I can be.
The weird thing with my parents…
Lately I’ve been writing a lot about how my parents were in denial about my situation. At first it angered me, then I just realized that they needed their time to figure things out and I was okay with it. But now it seems like they’ve moved on to a different “stage” and they’ve been acting really weird lately.
It’s no secret that my parents and I have had a not so ideal relationship. At times, it was a pretty bad relationship where we didn’t even talk to each other. But for the past couple of days they’ve been acting really weird. They’ve been talking to me more, which is a bit odd, but on top of that, they’ve been doing nice things for me. They buy me my soy milk, which before I would either have to get it, or give them money to buy it for me. Now they just get it themselves. My mom and dad have been planning meals that I can actually eat, mostly meatless meals. But at least I’m not starving now. My dad bought me lunch yesterday and he even remembered what I liked and what I couldn’t eat.
The other night my dad took me out to a bar. Granted, I shouldn’t have been at a bar considering I’m not supposed to drink, but I hadn’t ever really been to a bar with my dad unless it involved some sort of gambling. I figured it’s just something you should do with your parents, and I guess that’s how he bonds. I didn’t have to pay for a drink the whole night and we ended up leaving the bar at 3AM and had to be driven home by my uncle. Trust me when I say I won’t be drinking anymore, ever. Not only did I start to get heart palps towards the end of the night, but the next day I literally couldn’t do anything because I was so weak. And no, it wasn’t a hangover, I don’t get those.
Their change towards me makes me a bit uncomfortable. I’m not used to them being nice to me, or being considerate of my situation, or just being considerate period. I don’t really know how to deal with that. I realize they aren’t the same people they were ten years ago, but there’s a huge part of me that doesn’t really trust what’s happening right now because of that.
I’ve also been noticing a lot of things that I’ve been doing that I definitely wouldn’t have done a month ago. I’ve been more outgoing, which is a bit odd, because I normally have panic attacks. I went to the grocery store and almost got ran over by a college girl’s shopping cart. The two girls said something about being bad drivers and I said something back. I don’t remember what. But then again, I can’t remember jack shit these days. Anyway, we got to talking and we are keeping in touch. Which is odd. I don’t ever recall making friends like that because I am usually too scared or panicky to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger like that.
It’s been a very weird week. Almost like what’s been happening, isn’t really happening.