It’s the end of the year again and did we have a shite one? The year in brief by yours truly:
January started out fairly well. After having spent a full week with my girlfriend followed by yet another good birthday thingy. Things went sort of down-hill from there.
About a week before we would be together for half a year, my girlfriend e-mailed me saying we were through. She cited my problems interfering with her concentration for her exams as the most important reason, but I later learned that she still liked me and stuff, but that I simply wasn’t The One. So that’s another few months running about semi-depressed.
Then there was my father more or less pressuring me to go back in therapy. Not gender-therapy, mind you. Oh goodness gracious me, no. Can’t make the poor kid think the feelings he has are real. No, regular therapy because I’m ‘a wee bit down’. So of I went to this shrink advised to him by his insensitive, childish girlfriend who, turns out, was an insensitive, childish git. Apparently it’s impossible for me to begrudge my ex for dumping me, begrudge her for not having sex with me until the very end of our relationship, but getting pregnant off a one-night stand almost immediately after, yet still wanting her back AND being worried about her having an abortion all at the same time. I’m pretty sure that’s what I felt, but if the expert claims it’s impossible, then I’ll just have to be crazy.
Oh, and apparently it’s OK for shrinks to think that people who are confused about their gender are amusing. Also, one can’t be both too apathetic to shave properly AND have gender dysphoria. A view shared with my father, apparently, who also thinks that wearing eyeliner has the sole purpose of looking ‘tough’, not making the link with my feeling more like a girl than anything else. He claims the average person who sees someone with black eyeliner and long hair will think that person is dangerous, but he must’ve met different people than I when he had long hair and black eyeliner (oh snap!) because the people I met thought I was a girl.
Which was the point.
Which means I succeeded.
Until I started speaking.
I hate my voice…
Oh, there was the time when the kids in my school thought I was going to bring a gun to school and shoot everyone. That was fun. Had a good laugh about it with what I think was a… mate… sort of. I dunno. Sometimes I really don’t know what to think of people.
Take my best friend, or at least, I think my best friend. I really can’t tell anymore. Used to be one was over at the other’s house every weekend. Now I see him once a month or so. Also, usually he and his family would ask me and my family to come watch a new movie when it’s out. However, these days they never do so. Ever. The latest example being Avatar, a film he had watched twice before I realized it was even out, and when I asked him, he had no money to watch it another time.
Also, he never does things I ask, like informing me if he’ll be free a certain day/evening, or check out something particularly awesome on the internet, unless I repeatedly remind him, which I know is annoying and which I wouldn’t do if it wasn’t the only bloody way!
Goodness, I feel like my mother now.
Or the fact that if I don’t contact him, I don’t hear from him at all, until I do contact him. If ever we hang out somewhere, like Cabaret Gothique, it’s because I asked him what he’s doing he told me, and then I HAD TO ASK HIM if I could (was allowed) to tag along. If I’m going somewhere and someone asks me what I’m doing, I tell them and ask them if they want to come too, but that’s just me. Maybe I’m special? My history teacher did tell me I was too good for this world because I had nothing against surveillance cameras because I had nothing to hide.
Anyvays, to this date I have no idea just what he thinks of me. Paranoia says that means he dislikes me, or at least doesn’t like me as much as he used to.
What I particularly hate about 2009 is the sheer amount of people that went self-righteous. My father has always been a self-righteous arse, but now my brother picked up the habit. Apparently he’s ‘better’ because he can form his opinion, which apparently means his opinion is also better because of that.
Which it isn’t, by the way. You may think being able to play music is the only way to really appreciate music, but if someone thinks that’s bullshit you don’t have to laugh in their faces.
Another example is with one of my friends. We used to share ideas about the various fantasy worlds we brew up in our heads. A while ago I told him I’d ‘redesigned my world’ to which he said ‘cool’, and then proceeded with telling his own new thing, shutting me up entirely about what I wanted to say. Never mind the fact that his idea was more or less a copy of the Hindu ‘Genesis’ story (for lack of a better word.
Maybe best I didn’t tell him. He’d probably think it’d suck. Why? He thinks everything I do sucks. Or if he doesn’t he is amazing at hiding it. The only idea of mine he ever, ever openly admitted he liked was the idea of lycanthropy being a mutated strain of rabies in wolves. Even then he did so with quite a pinch of reservation. I don’t know why I still bother.
2009 also saw the mutation of Ty the Sarcastic into Ty the Cynic. Yup, I’m officially a bitch now. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I’m no longer surprised about anything bad happening at all. A guy stabbing a baby is still bad, it’s also wholly unsurprising. The Copenhagen summit yielding zero results may be unfortunate, it’s also very predictable.
It’s not that I can say ‘told you so’, because these days I rarely even bother telling you so in the first place, which sort of is a prerequisite.
I also don’t give a rat’s arse about Swine Flu.
Before I went fully cynic, however, there were at least 3 or 4 people who simply stopped talking to me. People I had e-mail conversations with as only means of communication and who all, one after the other, stopped sending mails back, and ignored prodding to please do so.
Then there was Uni, which turns out to be high-school but a whole lot more of it. Not more difficulty, but more stuff you need to learn, more people in the same room and more people not giving a shit if you’re there or not. Oh, and more kilometers I have to travel every sodding day.
And studying all December and January for the next 4 or 5 years. I’m positively ecstatic.
And when I finally settled on a name I wish to use for myself, it belongs to a girl who thinks I have a crush on her, so that conversation will be sufficiently awkward.
Anyway, I’m sure there’s stuff I forgot. I might include those in a future update. Have a happy New Year, I’m sure mine will be half-decent at best as I set out towards the ‘one year single’ mark -again. Joy. I might copy an idea of one of my last really good friends and get myself a ‘yay, you didn’t kill yourself this year’ tattoo. A black rose on my back, maybe, I dunno.