It's been 6 months since my last journal. Seems my personal goal of trying to at least give voice to my thoughts sorta fizzled in the mist of 2025... Sorry about that!

So, it's 2026 now and there has been a lot of things on my mind. Believe it or not, I've been wanting to write a new journal for awhile but hadn't really figured out what I could write one about. After thinking about it for a few hours, I realized that it was already the best reason to write one. Reason being... it just made sense. You see, it isn't that I didn't know what to say. It was more like I didn't feel like I could say anything... and I think I finally understand what it going on inside my head. Since my mental collapse 2 years ago, I've had to try and rebuild myself. Part of that meant confronting some problems and acknowledging so many others. That alone would be taxing on anyone. Recovering from mental collapse is not easy at the best of times. However, it did made me realize 2 very important things: 1. I'm still caught in a mental cycle even if I'm just more aware of it than I was and 2. So much of my mental and emotional development was entirely skipped over, leaving behind these really big gaps that I have to deal with now. I totally get it if any of you just laugh and go "Yup, that tracks" given what many of you know about me.

I want to focus on that second part for a moment. A lot of mental development for young kids usually involves things like "If X, then Y". If I bite this plastic, it hurts and its hard. If I touch this hot surface, I get burned. If I cry, someone will come and check on me and make sure I'm ok. These are simple associations that most people will make. They're basically programmed into us as babies after all. It's that discovery aspect that helps us to develop more complex ways of thinking. However, there is one major thing most people learn young: How to express yourself. It is entirely in this area that my development was skipped over. From a young age, all I ever knew was how to think and act like an adult. This idea of personal expression never really occurred me. Adults are too busy with life things to think about how to express themselves. They focus on outcomes, putting the result first and the person second, with so many just acting out their roles as cogs in a machine to achieve something greater than themselves. The key difference is that they developed into those sorts of people based on their experiences... and it was the only experience I ever knew. I can point directly to the fact that I struggle socially as a major consequence of this. I'm used to talking to "my betters" and not "my peers" because that is pretty much I have ever known. This idea that there is a "me" to consider in this is such an alien way of thinking. Internally, I still haven't viewed myself as an equal, even in communities I am welcome and with people that I know care about me.

And that leads me to the first point: How I'm still in a cycle and just more keenly aware of it. Being given time and understanding, I am more aware of my mental health than ever and I am far better able to recognize when I am or am not doing well mentally. I can take time for myself to just breathe. Hell, I'm crying a lot more than I used to (even if it makes me grumpy that it feels like it is a near daily thing at times). I am able to better express my needs than ever but I still feel like I'm surrendering to the same terrible logic patterns that put me into the hospital to begin with. Yes, I am trying to now learn stuff I should've learned as a child and build a sense of self now in my late 30s. I am having to overcome the blocks of "You're an adult, you shouldn't care about X" or "You're not allowed to like Y" or whatever. No tools really prepare to confront the traumas you have, especially when the traumas are something you've let yourself believe are logical and that you have to hold onto them because they are all that give you any identity at all. In clinging to them, I'm just repeating the same cycle even if I argue with myself about it.

...and then it kind of hit me. If you had to boil down everything I'm dealing with, it would be a very simple idea: "I'm not good enough". Upset with how I look? "It's because I'm not good enough". Failed to figure out a problem with something at work. "I'm not good enough to do it". For basically any problem, it is the answer I'm so quick to cling onto. Now, I'm asking myself the brutally honest question of why. Why do I feel like I am not good enough? Is it finances? Success? Owning a house? Achieving the so-called "Markers of achievement" I heard relentlessly about as a kid? Is it because I'm not perfect? That I make mistakes? That I don't have all the answers? Is it because I don't feel like I have that right? Is it because I'm so caught up in my own head that I can't see the world around me? Is it because I'm afraid to take an offered hand?

If I had to give an honest answer, the reason "I am not good enough" is because I'm trying to compare myself to something that doesn't exist. Without ever having a sense of my own identity, I kept chasing this idea of what I should be and the more starkly different I became from that idea, the stronger the feeling became. I'm looking at Mount Everest from miles away and cursing myself for not being at the summit. It's high time I just admit that such a way of thinking is real problem. I don't need to care about whatever that idea of me was supposed to be. I just need to focus on how things stand from 2 years ago when this really started.

It's ok that I am not at the summit of the mountain. It's ok that I am not even at the base of the mountain. All that matters is that I can see the mountain. I'm taking steps toward it every day, sometimes big steps and sometimes small steps. Some days, I don't wanna take any steps or trip and fall on my face or tumble down a nearby hill. Even if it is in the wrong direction, movement is still movement. It isn't about when I get to the mountain, only that I am continuing my journey to get there. It's ok to take baby steps. Yes, being an adult severely limits how I can go back and fill in these gaps in my development but the solution to doing all that is frankly simple: Just fill it in as a child would. Explore, make mistakes, learn, and just express yourself. Cry if you need to cry, laugh if you feel the urge, bond over little things that seem unimportant.

...so that's the goal of 2026. To just continue to develop, even if it means having to learn things from scratch. It's ok to be you.

On my personal quest to be less... grumpy with and at myself (which is a huge struggle that is way too hard to describe), I want to write this journal in a different way that I usually do. This journal, though written in my voice, isn't for me. It is for those who need to hear it.

When you are sad and lonely, it is ok to not be ok. It's ok to voice that you're not ok, that you need help, that you want to scream into the void. It's ok to cry and scream and kick and wail. As we grow up, we are told time and time again that these behaviors aren't ok and begin the act of denying the most primal act of signaling distress. Hell, it is LITERALLY the most instinctual thing we have ever and will have done as it is the first behavior we have when we are born. The only difference between then and now is that we have the ability to tell people what's causing us distress. Talking when you're hurting is the most challenging thing we have to do. For many people, we don't even know how to explain what the problem is. We tell ourselves things like "It's embarrassing" "it's stupid" "it's not important" and then justify downplaying or dismissing it with things like "I don't want to be a burden" and "Its something I have to handle on my own". While it is ok to voice that you're not ok, you are only doing yourself so much harm by dismissing it.

As someone who has found themselves in that place a lot, I recognize the challenges of both being in that place and seeing others in it. My biggest struggle always boils down to a question: "How can I help them escape this place?". That intense state of being trapped, damned if I do and damned if I don't, honestly has done me so much more harm than it will ever do good. When I see people hurting, I instinctually want to help. The help that I instinctually try to offer can and has caused harm more than good, though. Recognizing that has been a challenge because I cannot take away the bad feelings. It is important for people to have feelings, good and bad. I, nor anyone, can or should try to take them away. All we can do is help to make the bad feelings hurt less until they stop hurting.

To that end, this journal serves as an open reminder to my friends and those who need to hear it: No matter what, I'll be here if you need me. If you need a shoulder to lean on, I'll offer mine. Need someone to just banter with or vent? I got two big ears with tassels that will hear you out and distract you with jangly tuft-beads. Need a hug that lasts as long as needed? I will give you both arms and my fluffy tail so you can hug something while being hugged.

You got this, ok? If you need to take a break, I'll keep you company until you feel ready to take the next step. Life is a journey, after all. No one said you have to make it all alone.

I've been wanting to write this journal for the last few weeks. Now that 2024 is finally over, I find it even harder to write it. I know it probably sounds stupid but the addage "The more things change, the more they stay the same" has never more perfectly captured a year, especially for me. As part of my continued effort to heal and grow, I'm going to try my best to talk about things without letting this journal take a dark turn. Mind you, that's gonna be hard since 2024 was a very VERY difficult year for me but I'll try to keep things as light-hearted as I can. Still, I'm going to put some Trigger Warnings going forward: I will be discussing Suicide Attempts and Politics in this post.

This time last year, I was at my mental lowest. I had let the intrusive thoughts overtake my way of thinking, living as a hollow shell and repeatedly asking "Can I hold on one more day?". I was beyond miserable. I was genuinely a broken person who had rehearsed and repeatedly practiced committing The Big Stupid. I recognize how dumb that sounds but self-strangulation isn't just something you whip up when you're inexperienced. By the end of January, I couldn't hold on anymore and very nearly succeeded in doing through with it, managing to stop myself with the fragment of consciousness and strength I had. Before I knew it, I was Baker Act'd, and sent to a Mental Hospital. There were a lot of people who were fighting the intrusive thoughts and who felt broken beyond recognition there, but they found the power to smile and laugh. I couldn't understand at first but I came to realize that those laughs and smiles were means to escape the dark feelings inside.

As part of my ongoing recovery, I stepped down from my position at work and returned to being a technician. The act of keeping busy and needing to make snap decisions meant that my mind wouldn't be free to wander or latch onto anything dark. Moving from 1st shift to 3rd shift hasn't been easy. It meant my social life, if I can call it that, was going to be almost entirely severed. In the months following my release from the hospital, I'd come to develop much stronger friendships and bonds. My friends were not an escape but a reminder that I was loved and had a reason to keep moving. Every shared laugh, bad joke, and friendly tease meant and continues to mean much more to me than I can put into words. It wasn't that I was losing those things. It just felt like there was now a wall keeping me from enjoying them. That's been my personal challenge over the last 6 months since returning to the field. For me, I always felt like I was sealed away from the world and trapped behind walls, one-way mirrors, and soundproofing. I could see that life and the world was going on but it felt like no one knew I was there. In a way, that feeling came back when I moved to the night shift. The friends and bonds I have are hard as hell to maintain when I am basically operating 12 hours out of sync with everyone. The one difference now is that I am able to genuinely say that the feeling is temporary so I've been trying my best to take care of myself until I can finally share time with them again.

That takes us to November 2024. Trump's re-election raises a lot of questions as he's vowed a term of personal vengeance. He's going to leave a lot of destruction in his wake because that's exactly what he wants. The Supreme Court has essentially given him the Divine Protection of Kings and he's quite prepared to use it to beat the American people. The MAGA Movement is already flexing power that is outright dangerous with them confronting, assaulting, and committing acts of violence and essentially domestic terrorism against anyone they perceive as being their enemy. I can't escape the feeling that I only have 2 fates awaiting me in the next 4 years: I will either be killed by MAGA Zealots or I will be sent to a concentration camp as per orders from Donald Trump. The former seems the least likely but if people die as part of enacting the latter, no one would really bat an eye. These thoughts resulted in a really intense mental breakdown after the election where I simply couldn't function for like a week. I barely ate and really just slept, trying to escape into my dreams because I can't afford to flee anywhere for my safety. Even my Mom, who loves Christmas with all her heart, sent out a text message saying she wasn't celebrating it this year. Him being elected has caused so much trouble and he hasn't even started yet. Much like the tide pulls away from the coast as a Hurricane draws near, the real storm hasn't begun yet.

So that leads us to today. It has been nearly 1 year since I wore the tourniquet to try and snuff out my life. I didn't set off fireworks to celebrate the new year. Instead, I burned the tourniquet. Yes, I still had it. Watching it burn was very cathartic. Telling yourself you won't try again and physically destroying the thing you used to do it creates very different feelings. It isn't about not going back or anything. It was really about destroying the past in a sense. Things are very different now from a year ago. I'm no longer in the closet about being Trans (for the most part), I'm expressing my needs and taking care of them as best as I can, I have an amazing circle of friends who mean the absolute world to me, and soon I'll be able to move to Operational Shift to hopefully be able to spend time with those who mean the most to me. I'm taking care of my mental health by expressing myself in the privacy of my room, something I wasn't doing before because of various paranoid worries and fears.

On the flipside of the coin, I'm trying to break old cycles like not eating. No, it isn't that I can't afford food. My appetite has sharply and severely shrunk over the last few months. I'm back in the habit of only eating once a day, which is a big danger sign for me. My body just doesn't want to eat food, so I'm trying to at least keep nibbling throughout the day to keep food in my system so I don't go back to having literally stretches of time where I don't feel hunger for days. My meal sizes have continued to shrink drastically though so I'm going to have to find a solution for that soon.

...So, what's the plan for 2025? Well, I can't really say I know. Too many unknowns. What is known is that I've put together a rather aggressive action plan to eliminate all my personal debts in the next 2 years. It means lean-living for 2 years but after that, I'll have several things I don't have now:

1. Savings. Part of this plan is actually accumulating savings for an emergency and for major events.
2. The ability to Travel. Might sound really silly but having financial freedom means I can afford to take trips and see the people that matter the most to me
3. The ability to buy a House. Yeah, the housing market sucks (and is gonna get MUCH worse soon) but I'm ready to move out of this apartment and into a new space. I want my own home so eliminating debts and raising savings are going to put me into a position where I can actually try to do it.
4. The freedom to express myself. Yes, I've always technically had this but as my transition continues, I won't be able to hide or conceal it. I want to be able to fully express myself but getting there takes a lot of time and money that I don't really have at the moment.

Right now, 2025 is going to just be about surviving. There isn't much else to say on that front. Yes, the country elected someone who wants to bury and eliminate my existence and has a legion of sycophant's who will carry out their understanding of his words without any hesitation. Doesn't mean I have to die. I've suffered through a lot. I don't intend to give up before I'm free. So, I'm going to survive. That's all I can do.

I found out the results were basically locked in around 2AM this morning. I spent the next 2 hours switching between fits of anger and fits of crushing despair. Around 4AM, I had managed to compose myself so that the worst of it was spent slowly and quietly crying for the next 2 hours while I did anything to distract myself.

I'm reminded how my year began this year. I haven't discussed this much, or even openly, but my year started in the darkest place. Years and years of bad coping habits, long years of suppressing deep seated traumas, a complete loss of self-value, and constantly spending all my time in a state of just barely surviving all took a toll. I very nearly ended it all through Asphyxiation. I won't say how but just know I had practiced it a lot, learned quite a bit, and knew because of my self-defense training and medical research that it would only take 60 seconds before it was too late to stop it. Before I lost all my strength, I stopped. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to fade away. I just wanted to be seen and live my life. Nothing more, nothing less.

In spite of how this election turned out, my desire to just live cannot and will not be snuffed out. I'm in a state that wants to eliminate me, sees me as a threat or some mental disease without a cure and don't need to be researched. This slide into a fusion of McCarthyism and WW2-era fearmongering doesn't change that. I figure what will be will be. If someone comes to my door and executes me on the spot because I didn't vote for Trump, that's just life. If I am sentence to spend the next X years in a concentration camp, that too is just life. I've even instructed my family to make no efforts to protect me when this kicks off. One of them, a police officer who lives local, was given a second set of direction: He's free to shoot me dead as an alternative. He would never be punished for eliminating the "Enemy" and it would safeguard my sister, him, and my niece from harm if things go the way I feel they will.

I am not going to run. I am not going to hide. I am not going to lock myself away. I intend to live regardless of what the politics of the season decide. It's a stupid and foolish perspective to have, no doubt. However, I have been to death's door once before by my own hand. It was just over 10 months ago. No one can do any greater harm to me than I have done to myself. So, I'm just going to live. That's all I can do. I refuse to bury who I am for the sake of others. As frighteningly scary as the next 4 years are gonna be, I won't stop living. Neither should you.

Don't let anyone tell you not to be yourself. Just be you and do the best you can.

I'm writing this journal at my own peril, in a sense. I've largely tried to avoid wading into the conversation over what the Admin/Moderation team has been doing involving Babyfur/Littlefur content, their unclear position on their own rules, and their rather heavy handed enforcement over perceived infractions. I'll leave the general discord about that to Twitter since the community has been taking it to the Admin team extremely vocally. There is no point wading into that discussion for me. Instead, I want to focus on something else.

A lot of the vocal discord surrounding the topic is about this idea of apology. As someone who has is currently trying to break the cycle of constantly apologizing, I think it both bizarre and apt for me to just be honest about it: Apologies don't mean anything. They're hollow words meant to imply a sense of personal shame and the acceptance of personal responsibility. However, in practice, it never really works out that way. When it comes to screwing up (and I am something of an expert on screwing up), you cannot simply apologize. You cannot present false pretenses and set goals that don't mean anything to anyone but yourself. It's harsh for me to say this but the direction the FA Admin team seems to want to go it is in this direction. It won't fix the damage done nor will it prevent things from happening in the future. The only method that they have before them is one that is routinely misunderstood: Atonement.

Atonement isn't about asking for forgiveness. It's about taking meaningful action to right the wrongs you've done while working to ensure they don't happen again. It's an ongoing, constant thing. The greater the mistake you make, the harder you have to work to actually be forgiven. Simply dealing with rogue admins and rewriting the rules to protect members of the community is, frankly, not even surface level. It's the basic requirement to even start making surface level changes. All they seem to be committed to doing right now is acknowledging the screw up that was made. That's not taking responsibility for it nor is it working to prevent it from happening again.

I'm not saying that the admin team needs to roll out the red carpet for Babyfurs/Littlefurs or even elevate the community to some distinguished position. The community has been repeatedly targeted, attacked, and even culled (more than once) from the Furry community. I'm sure there are people within the furry community that were actively celebrating positive inspirations like BabyStar being banned off the platform. You've got users still banned or suspended from the platform with no clear reasons as to why, even if they're just people quietly going about their lives. I've been grateful to say I've dodged the banwave but even I don't feel safe. If the FA Admin team genuinely want to start on the path to atonement, they'd offer to allow a member of the Babyfur/Littlefur/ABDL community a seat at the table. We understand when content crosses the line. We police ourselves regularly and when things aren't right, we actively work toward addressing it. It sounds like a farfetched thing to consider but bear in mind that the Admin team has proven they cannot be trusted to enforce their own rules. They cannot separate their bias from the evidence before them. Recognizing that is the first step toward atoning for what they've done. From there, they can work on building their understanding and proving they can check their own bias. That constantly effort toward change and improvement is what Atonement is about.

Do I believe that will happen? Honestly, no. Do I think the Admins will read this? Probably not. Do I think this is the best course of action? That's not my place to say. At the end of the day, it isn't me they need to convince. It's the community. I don't think what I'm proposing is out of line. It's just a genuinely honest first step that could go a long way into winning back goodwill.

Wanted to write a journal to just get an update out to everyone, especially since I know most of my friends are using this to gauge how I'm doing. I should probably also explain a bit behind my logic when it comes to writing these journals since they happen kind of infrequently and they are tonally all over the place (Sorry for that!)

So, when I write these journals, it is usually because I want to get something off my chest that I don't really know how to talk to anyone about. I'm honestly pretty terrible about sharing my thoughts on things in a healthy way so I tend to bottle things up. Since everything that happened earlier this year, I've learned just how terrible it is to bottle up your thoughts and emotions. As a kid, I was always thought that it would just keep piling up until you break, which is extremely on the nose given that's how it eventually hit me. I'm doing my best to not keep things bottled up, whether the feelings are positive or negative. I'm learning what it means to self-regulate and honestly, some days are better than others. I've had days where I've been struggling terribly and other days where everything seems fine. The last journal I wrote was in the midst of one of those struggling periods which was actually self-inflicted. I had been feeling so good for about a month straight so I thought I no longer needed the help of my anti-depressants. That was a HUGE and really stupid mistake. I'm back on my medications now and have a meeting with the Psychologist later this morning. Timing couldn't be better since tomorrow night is my first night in my new position.

It still feels so strange to finally be back in the field as a technician. It'll be a few weeks before I'll be allowed to conduct maintenance on my own since I need to undergo a secondary set of certification known as PQS (Personal Qualification Standards) wherein I have to basically be taught the inspections and then prove to someone who is certified that I can perform the work. If they are satisfied, they sign off on that particular inspection. Inspections are broken into several "Modules" based on what aspect of the area I'm training in. The whole process can take about a month to complete "Mod Zero", which certifies me to complete the basic inspections. It'll be an interesting period to be sure. Gives me time to figure out how I am going to haul my toolbox back into work since I took it home years ago when I got out of the field.

Overall, I'm decently optimistic. The only major downside is working the night shift (10PM to 8:30AM). I struggle with not feeling lonely as is and it is really a struggle to avoid feeling lonely when you're awake while all the people you care about are asleep. I'm trying to keep myself positive, telling myself I'm something like I'm the night nanny, checking in on my friends while they sleep and making sure they're ok, adjusting pillows, making sure they're tucked in. The thought gives me a great deal of comfort even if its just an illusion in my head. Unfortunately, this also means I don't really have the capable of letting myself slide into Little Space. While I have the luxury of spending long nights to myself, I haven't really found a way to go into Little Space on my own. Even indulging my Little Side on my own is extremely difficult for own. I'm very dependent on someone else to help me slide into Little Space, which is probably not the most healthy thing but given that I've only recently been able to connect with my Little Side, I suppose it's to be expected.

I guess I'm just at a proper transition in my life. Soon, I will be fully Out as being Trans (which comes with its own immensely terrifying worries). I'm starting a new role. I've got wonderful friends who support me and love me for who I am, in spite of my flaws. I have the support of family who understand my struggle and have chosen to support me. All that really remains is for my have faith in myself. That's always been the one thing I struggle with but I guess this is a good time to start learning.

I find myself really struggling these days. Two of the dark haunting throughs that pushed me to the edge earlier this year finally popped up again. Some wounds to the soul don't heal easily and these two are clearly two of mine. I don't want to give them power but I cannot just keep a lid on it lest I find myself in the same painful struggle I used to have to face alone.

"Everyone has a purpose in life but you"

"This world is full of good people. You are not one of them"

It is honestly that latter one that makes me struggle the most. I have never believed in good and evil as absolutes. Good, more often than not, causes significantly more evil in the world that evil does. I could go in a tangent about that alone but the thing that I find myself questioning boils down to a simple question: "What is a good person?". How can I view myself as a terrible person and not even know or grasp the idea of what a good person is? How can I be sure I am not a good person? I want to believe that by calling myself a terrible person, it would keep me humble and help keep me on a path of being a gentle and kind soul. I still don't know why I am so sure I am a terrible person. I just unconsciously seem to accept it as fact and it ends up reinforcing the idea that I have no purpose in my life. It isn't like I am lacking love or support. I clearly have both. I don't particularly care if my life has a purpose or not but my mind is trying to devalue my existence in a way I simply cannot push back on. I think it because I continue to view myself as being Abnormal, that there is something actively wrong with me and that it is worthy of scorn and that I will always be an outsider. It makes this barrier in my heart that blocks me from being able to truly be myself. It's that damn one-way mirror sealing me inside and I just want to break it down.

I know that I am still on a path of healing and that the healing is going to take more years than it took to destroy myself. I am just scared that I won't get better or worse... That I will be forgotten and cast aside.

It's been awhile since my last journal. I've adapted to my medication well enough to realize that emotions are really hard. Like, really really hard...

So, really brief recap so I can try to explain things:

December 2023: My mental health harshly declines and I began to plot "The Big Stupid"
January 2024: Had a nervous breakdown at the end of the month and attempted "The Big Stupid"
February 2024: I was hospitalized in a mental hospital and spent 8 weeks in therapy to try and sort myself out. I was given a daily routine of Lexipro and Wellbutrin
March 2024: Completed Therapy and returned to work

April has been a strange month for me. With the medication working as intended, I'm having to actually feel my emotions instead of just pushing them down and feeling numb all the time. The most confusing emotion I've felt lately comes from having literally buried my own emotional needs for so long. Namely, I had this weird experience about two weeks ago. I felt scared, angry, and so incredibly vulnerable. It was like a confusing hissy fit, like I just wanted to cry over nothing and having this incredibly powerful desire to just be held. I actually didn't understand what the emotion was because it was so conflicting but it turns out it is the little side of myself crying out for someone.

The other emotion that has been hard for me to really wrap my head around is a genuine feeling of love. Like, I've had some long-term crushes on a few people for quite some time but I've always been either ashamed or just self-destructive over. Like, previously I would just convince myself that people deserve better than me and how I'm not worthy of their kindness, affection, or even time so that I could avoid thinking about it. I've probably caused so much pain as a result, more than I can ever apologize or make up for so feeling genuine love has been so difficult to process.

I'm still trying to navigate these emotions in a healthy way but over the last week, I've gotten to confess to 2 people about a crush that I've had on them and I've started to stop repressing myself. I know that I am a little, I know that I am trans, and I can't just keep hiding away parts of my own heart. I hope that I am able to continue to explore myself in a healthy way and stop hiding away.

I took the plunge and signed up to Megaplex 2024 today. It'll be my first time back at Megaplex in 8 years. To say I'm nervous would be an understatement. Still, I feel like I need to go. I need time to just be myself and hope that I can find some friends who make me feel whole too.

I know it's late in the evening on a Saturday but this has been dragging me down for a few days. I've been attending therapy for the last few weeks to continue the process of healing since my attempt at suicide at the end of January. Things have been going well overall with some sessions leaving me literally drained for the better part of nearly 2 days. Diving into matters of trauma are tricky and they don't always come with upsides that appear immediately. I've taken solace in the fact that most of the people that were in my hospital ward were genuinely good people and we've kept in touch since being discharged.

One of the people in the ward started in my therapy group last week. I thought things were going to continue looking up and that progress would continue, albeit slow and steady as I took things day by day. Well, that changed on Friday. The girl from my hospital ward brought up the subject of politics during one of our session breaks. It was in relation to the state of the union speech that happened on Thursday. Some of the other people in the group joined in the conversation and it ultimately lead to them asking me who I was planning to vote for in November. Being sort of pushed into the conversation, I chose to simply be honest: Neither party is ideal for me. You got Republicans try to eliminate my existence and you got Democrats doing barely anything to protect trans people and prefer to use us like a political poker chip. I didn't expect that the girl from my hospital group to quip up "Well, you could always move to Thailand. There are lots of your kind there".

In a therapy group about addressing trauma and building ourselves up to make us functional people again, I got "Othered" and I haven't really shaken it off. The intrusive thoughts are having a field day with this...

I was discharged from the mental hospital today. It's been a long 5 days but it was genuinely needed. I had no idea just how far I'd been beating myself down to the point where I found myself ready and willing to commit suicide.

My sister also now knows I am trans, the struggles I've had with being trans in a hugely trans-hostile state, and let her the sort of environment that had been cultivated at work. I'm pretty sure she also knows some other stuff that I was genuinely not ready to talk about but she respected that I was not able to talk about it. Hard to really defend/deny anything given she cleaned my wreck of an apartment so she knows without getting confirmation of things... That'll be an awkward conversation when the time comes.

Still, I'm home now. I'm decompressing from everything. I made some friends inside the facility and we're going to keep in touch. Bonds forged through mutual hardship are strong ones and it was genuinely comforting to know I could be openly trans in a mental hospital and everyone was incredibly supportive. They're also members of the LGBTQ+ community and they're going to connect me to their groups so I have a strong local support network.

I met with a psychologist this morning. I wasn't really sure what I expected but I've been advised to report to a hospital setting for observation, evaluation, and treatment until further notice. That's a thought that utterly terrifies me to my core. I've been asked to get ahold of my sister or brother-in-law ASAP and report to the hospital or they'll have to dispatch 911 to retrieve me.

I'm beyond scared.

I just wanted to post this up to give people some peace of mind.

1. I spoke with my boss and my HR Team at work. I might be taking a leave of absence soon to get treatment. That's still up for discussion.
2. I had a long conversation with my older sister today. She's going to come over so we can talk for a bit. Figure out the next steps sorta thing.
3. I've been given some contact information for OPA Behavioral Health and will be talking to them when their office reopens in the morning. I tried to see if I could book an appointment via their website but the portal is broken and won't actually let me do that right now.

I'm going to make myself a bowl of mac and cheese and just try to keep it together for now. My sister suspects we have a genetic issue since every member of the family has needed treatment in one way, shape, or form for largely similar feelings and issues with depression and anxiety.

Hey everyone.

It's been 8 months since my last update on here. Didn't realized it had been so long, if I'm honest. My sense of time is beyond distorted to the point where I don't even realize the time passing these days. I want to tell you all things that I'm getting better and that I'm no longer in that place but if I said those things, I'd just be lying. For me, it feels like I am only a few minutes to midnight. When midnight comes, I'm not going to be alive anymore. It's hard to really explain how I feel in a clearer way. In a way, it feels like I've fallen off the edge of a cliff but caught myself on a small ledge below. I'm too far down to be rescued and if I let go, I'll fall to my death. However, even if my fingers go numb from holding on, it is genuinely hard to let go. It almost feels like I am simply waiting for the edge to give way these days.

If any of you have felt like I've become increasing distant, it's because I have been. I am not mad or angry with any of you. Quite the opposite: I love you all dearly. I tried to tell myself that it would make things easier for when the clock strikes midnight. I thought of these elaborate plans to ensure I could just quietly disappear. First, I'd go quiet for awhile. Them, after some time, I'd delete my Discord and telegram, clean up my apartment, reorganize my room and lay down for that last good night. Everyone who knows me that I don't like to tell people good night. I choose instead to say "Sleep Sweet" because Good Night is... well, a grim thing to say. That's because, for me, a Good Night is one people don't wake up from. Now, I'm not sure I'll have the capacity to do any of that. When I finally commit the big stupid, I'll just be... well, away or offline. That's currently how I appear almost all the time so I can't say anyone will notice anything amiss.

I guess what I'm writing this journal for is so that I can at least say thank you to all my friends who've allowed me to be a part of their lives. Sooner or later, that clock will strike midnight. When that happens and I'm suddenly no longer on telegram or discord, I hope you'll all understand that it isn't because of anything you did or didn't do. I'm grateful for the love and kindness you've shown me. It still means the world to me. Thank you for the smiles, the laughs, and the precious memories. If I do finally hear the clock strike midnight, I'm just sorry that I couldn't tell you all how much I love you.

I can't believe its been a year since my last journal. There has been a lot going on in my last over the last year and I've entered something of a death spiral. No, I'm not doing drugs or anything of the sort. My mental health, on the other hand, has been slipping away day by day. I've kept a lot of this bottled up for years and the latest stuff happening in the US is only adding fuel to a fire that will consume and destroy me before to long. Before anyone reads any further, I want to put a huge trigger warning out there: This post is about suicide.

All I have ever wanted in my life is to feel real. I've wanted to look in the mirror and see myself looking back at me and feel like I am acknowledged. Sadly, that is not how I feel. I feel like people only see the shell, not what's underneath. I feel trapped and alone in my own mind, trying to escape from a crushing darkness that feels eternal. I feel immensely alone because I don't really have anyone I can talk to about this. It's not an easy topic to bring up and even when I can, the words of comfort I receive feel and ring hollow, even if I know in my heart that the care and compassion behind the words are genuine. Lately, I feel like I'm just very quickly running out of hope. My state just passed laws that make it so Doctors and EMTs don't have to help me if I am sick or injured, or that my Insurance can just decide not to cover any care because they feel like it. I'm not allowed to have a voice, be seen, or even acknowledged without running afoul of some new BS law. Add to that the fact that my mental health has been eaten away because I feel invisible and it's just a setup to something awful. I've always told myself to remember an old promise I made to an old friend of mine, Victoria Rodda, that I would not leave this earth before she does. In the years that followed that promise, I've always heard this ticking clock in the back of mind like its some countdown to the day I die. Even my brief brush with death in 2007 following complications from Cancer surgery didn't really put a stop of those feelings. If anything, that brush with death, however brief, made the ticking go quicker. I remember that sensation of being without concern or fear, unable to move, see, or hear as I drifted on a rolling waves of what I thought was the ocean. It was a comforting void and I strongly considered staying. However, I had the sense to pull myself from that void, holding onto that promise and the dream of someday being seen, cared for, and happy.

...Unfortunately, I don't feel that way now. In the last few months, I've attempted suicide on 4 separate occasions. I found this really nice bridge a few years ago while on my way to my first Megaplex. At the time, I thought it was a beautiful bridge with a scenic view, but a few months ago, I went back to that bridge and strongly considered jumping. I just stood there, looking out into the distance but unable to jump. I made a second trip to that same bridge a few weeks ago, but I again couldn't jump. I took to studying how to tie knots, thinking the best option for me was to just hang myself. I tried that too, but my knots weren't good enough and kept slipping loose. Eventually, I even bought myself a tourniquet and ran some experiments with it. I found it was the right size and would easily work. I could tighten it up enough to strangle myself and immediately start to black out but I stopped myself during those trials feeling the time simply wasn't right.

In spite of the piece of me that wants to die, I simply couldn't leave things as they were. I'm clinging to the idea that "People still need me" even though I know that the world will continue to move on when I am gone. I've always held this idea in my mind that the best thing I could do is simply not be remembered. I felt like if I simply lived my life so that people might recall I existed but couldn't remember my name, my voice, or even what I looked like, that was fine. I wanted to be forgotten so that I couldn't bring sadness when I eventually gave in and took my own life. That feeling got so bad that I even figured out how I would initiate everything. I'd delete my social medias without a word, leaving only some kind of longwinded goodbye message here on my FA with a link to an unlisted YouTube video or something. I'd initiate a full reformat of my phone and PC, leaving no digital trace behind before removing the SIM card from my phone. I'd then drive to my workplace and leave my work PC and work phone outside my Supervisor's office before going someplace off the beaten path and just... ending it. I would surrender to the darkness and just feel my own life fade with my consciousness.

I'm scared that I have these feelings. I'm scared that I've given it this much thought. I'm scared that I won't be able to resist the darkness. I'm scared that some random person on the street will kill me out of "fear" simply because I exist. I'm scared to try and get help because I'm scared that no one will help me. I'm scared that I'll make people upset when I am gone. I'm scared things will just get worse whether I live or die. I'm scared to sleep because it is only in my dreams that I am peace and I know that I am just going to wake up to this living nightmare again and again. I'm scared that the only time I'll ever find peace is to return to that void again.

I'm not ok... but at least I am alive for now. I'm scared and I feel isolated and alone. I don't know that feeling will ever go away but I can't keep denying how I feel. I just want to be able to be told "I see you" and genuinely believe that I am seen. It feels like a childish wish, the kind you would make on a shooting star because of how implausible it is. Unfortunately, that hope is the only thing I have to hold onto right now. It's the only thing keeping the darkness away from crushing me.

There is so much I want to say but I just can't say.

I'm sorry...

Two journals in a week. This is definitely an outlier, but I kind of need a place to just write down my thoughts because my morning is off to a sort of weird start. I have a fairly regular morning schedule: Wake up, brush my teeth and wash my face, take my HRT medication, check my emails and FA for updates, and then move onto whatever I need to do. I had a surprise email from my doctor who is overseeing my HRT medications. I was asked a series of questions that I found immediately disarming, like in the paralyzing sort of way.

Let's talk about the results, especially given the clinic call the other day. My Estradiol level is at 73, which is about double what is expected for Cismen and at the low end for Ciswomen. My Testosterone level was 187, which is a little over half the low end spectrum for Cismen and more than triple what is expected for Ciswomen. Given that I've only been on HRT for a little over a month, I feel like this is meaningful progress so I'm not really bothered by the figures. Just means that the lower dosages I'm on are more effective than I was expecting.

Now, let's get into the disarming sort of questions...

My doctor is asking me the sort of questions that should be easy to answer: How have you been since you started the medication, any changes that I've noticed with myself, anything I'm worried about, and so forth. I have the option of video calling with the doctor to have a face-to-face (sort of) meeting to answer them or just responding back via the patient portal. None of these questions are particularly hard to answer, but questions ring a little different this time. In my last conversation with them, we talked about long term goals and what my emotional needs were as we worked through the process of dialing in my medication. With that in hindsight, I'm finding myself thinking about those questions again. What exactly are my long term HRT goals? What are my emotional needs? I kind of dismissed these the last time around, so I feel like I need to answer them before I answer her questions about how I am doing physical/mentally/etc.

The simple truth is that my long term goal is essentially unobtainable. I've known that for a long time but decided to go down this road anyway. I've decided to revise that goal to be something more realistic: To be truly passable. My emotional needs involve getting to that point. I used to work in an extremely trans-hostile environment, so my new team seems very open and understanding (at least, on the surface level. It isn't like I've ousted myself as being Trans or even told anyone at work that I'm on HRT). I'd like to just be accepted, but that's not something that can be done with medicine. That's a societal/environmental thing. Really, my mental goals are about feeling safe so that I can stop trying to suppress and repress myself.

As for the answers to the questions she directly asked, well, those are easy to answer. I've noticed I'm a lot more calm since I started HRT, so I'm doing mentally better than I was a few months ago. I feel more in control and less prone to fits of frustration. I have noticed a reduction in my sex drive (which was limited anyway), and I'm feeling hunger more often than I used to. Like, peckish. I used to only eat once a day, so my meal size has gone down a lot because my body is constantly wanting to munch on something, though I don't know if that's because of the HRT or because I just want to have something in my mouth. I've known I've had an oral fixation issue for awhile, but it feels like it's a stronger sensation. Probably more than the former than the latter because I'm just craving spicy foods, which I don't normally go for.

As for physical stuff, I've had a bit of chest tenderness, especially around my nipples. I've noticed the small textural changes where it feels like they're firming up, to the point where it can be uncomfortable to have them in contact with something and unpleasant to be touched. I've been feeling tired lately, so I've been getting about 8 hours of sleep a night as opposed to my usual 6. It's weird keeping to a fairly normal schedule of waking up/going to bed, but it isn't wholly unwelcome. That's pretty much it. I'm not worried about anything, at least consciously. I'm seeing the expected sort of changes, with a few things I hadn't expected but are rather welcome.

Well, yeah. That pretty much sums of this journal. I need to figure out how I want to approach this topic with my doctor. I need to be honest and clear with her in the same way that I need to be honest with myself. Sorry for the weird mood of this journal, but I just needed to get my thoughts out there. See you all next week.

I had a medical checkup this week. Nothing major. It's part of my HRT treatment, so I have to go get bloodwork done to see where various markers in my blood were at. I've had bloodwork done before so honestly the process wasn't much to write home about. The results of my tests came in much earlier than I expected since I'm used to having to wait about 2 weeks to get them. I actually got the results yesterday. I really didn't think I should expect to see anything drastic but holy heckers was I wrong. The clinic that did my labs called me to report concern about my results, taking the time to go over the figures with me, but it seems that they were under the impression that I was cis and not trans. A few minutes of them being concerned for my well being, I explained to them that I'm trans and that I am on HRT and that the tests they were running was a routine evaluation to ensure my levels were where they should be.

The folks at the clinic were very understanding and they felt bad. Apparently, my current marker levels would be a sign of something being seriously wrong so they were calling me to ask me to get checked out, but once they knew, they didn't feel there was much of a need for alarm. So yeah, that kinda happened. It's funny in hindsight.

Most of my HRT medications are pretty easy but holy heckers does progesterone really mess me up. Stuff makes me SUPER sleepy.

I got my COVID Booster on Tuesday. I didn't really know what to expect, but it pretty much wrecked me all day yesterday, hence the late journal. I'm feeling much better today aside from a sore arm. I do have a lot on my plate for the next few days.

I've got a HUD inspection next week. To that end, we're redoing the apartment: Installing curtains, reorganizing rooms, replacing furniture, etc. The living room is nearly done (just need to install 3 curtain rods). I'm taking a break to finish collecting a bunch of things I'm throwing out. I'm downsizing a bunch of stuff, like my desk, but I need to finish moving things around to do that. My dresser is falling apart so I bought a new bedframe with drawers to replace it. I need to clear out (and off) my old dresser so I can tear it apart to haul it out. It's WAY too big to move on my own otherwise.

Likewise, my desk needs to be cleared off, cleared out, and torn apart, all so I can bring in a new desk that will work better for the space.

...All this is kinda moot because I need to clean out the closet so my small chest drawer and end table can be relocated into there. So, yeah. Scope and Scale I guess, haha.

Anyway, back to work. See you all next week!

I really don't keep my journals. It's something of a bad habit especially given that I have the social activity of a burlap sack buried in the closet of a shack in the middle of nowhere. Probably not the best image, but it is somewhat accurate. I figured I should probably start making a genuine effort to write at least 1 journal a week, less because I have something to say and more because it'll be important for myself to do it.

2022 has been an interesting year so far. Prior to the new year, I took a new position at work. I'm now a Senior Sourcing Specialist, a salaried position tied to procurement and project development. It's been a nice change for me: Less stress, more freedom, a lot more responsibility, and I serve in a critical role for the entire park instead of my old small part of it. It's been huge for my wellbeing and mental health. I'm now eating twice a day instead of once, I'm sleeping more regularly (getting at least 6 hours a night even!), and I'm less depressed and self-depricating. That's really all small stuff compared to something else. I managed to do something that I thought was going to be impossible.... I started HRT on January 5th.

Yes, I've been on HRT for almost a month. Aside from some initial weird reactions to the meds (mostly affecting my sleep), it has been easy going. I have noticed some small changes in my body but nothing major. Good things come to those who wait, though. This has just been the first of many more to come.

I know this journal is short, but I want to try to post at least once a week and let you all know that I'm still alive and active. Thank you all who have followed me over the years. Your support means the world to me. I hope you're all doing well too. I'll check in with you all next week.

I know I don't make a lot of journals, though I'm fairly active on FA. This is a special circumstance.

I have a good friend whose been by my side for literally... well, decades. At this point, they classify as one of my oldest and truest friends. That's why it broke my heart to hear she was facing a scary situation. Her father has cancer. They thought it cured, but that diagnosis was incorrect. Now, they're trying to raise money for their family.

I'm a cancer survivor myself. My mom is also a cancer survivor, having undergone surgery for it a year ago. I know what she has to be feeling right now, and it isn't good.

Please see her journal here: https://www.furaffinity.net/journal/9944631/ If you can help in any way, it would be appreciated.

Please help my dear sister, Kitsuna.

I'm sure I'm just sleepy from eating too big a lunch but I don't want to lose the thoughts I'm thinking to the silent void of my memory either. That place is pretty cluttered as is.

Lately, I started thinking more about that hollow feeling that I've been experiencing. It makes me feel alone and afraid, like there are these invisible walls that isolate me from the rest of the world. The kind of walls that block all sound no matter how much I scream or bang on them. It feels like no one sees or hears me on the other side. Over the last few days, that feeling of crushing sorrow has become one of confusion, like I'm trying to understand this feeling instead of being afraid of it.

I know that I unconsciously created these walls. That means I can consciously break them, or at least open the walls enough that someone can hear me and help me. If they are formed of my insecurity, I need to face the source of that uncertainty and deal with it. The only thing that comes to mind is that I don't feel "Real". I'm almost certain this is the reason why these walls exist and make me feel that hollow, broken feeling. For some reason, I associate feeling of being "Real" with being alive, so if I don't feel "Real", I must be either dead or dying. In letting myself become trapped in this feeling of being "Unreal", I've entered a really dangerous place mentally.

I can recognize this for what it is, but until I figure out how to feel "real", I don't think it's going to go away. I just can't let myself get used to feeling hollow. If that happens... well... I don't think I need to say it. I'd rather not think about it.

I don't really update my journal here on FA. I can't really explain why. It isn't like I dislike it, but I feel like I use journals to vent more than to inform others. In spite of that, I feel the need to write a journal or something because I want to get this off my chest but I am simply too afraid to approach my friends and ask for a shoulder to cry on.

Over the last few weeks, my mood hasn't been the greatest. That's pretty typical when all you do is work and sleep, but it has been steadily getting worse. The other day, I was stricken with an immense feeling of sadness, just out of nowhere, and I found it difficult to really function. It was like my body and my mind were just shutting down and giving up. That feeling ultimately built up into me crashing right after I got home from work, only to wake up a few hours later, crying alone in the darkness of my room.

I didn't have a bad dream. Hell, I can't even remember the last dream I had. It was more like something just... broke in me. Even after I was able to dry my eyes, the hollow feeling in my chest persisted and I wasn't able to go back to sleep. I've just spent the last few hours pacing, trying to understand why I feel this way. My chest feels tight, like I am anxious, but there is this dull sharpness when I breathe. It doesn't hurt, though. It just makes me feel like my chest is made of glass, squeezing down on an inflating balloon with each breath.

I want to try to go back to sleep but I know that sleep won't come. I don't want to be awake. I don't want to feel this way. I just want to find my own joy in life. I want to believe I'll wake up and have one of those "Today is the day" moments where things change for the better. Right now, I just feel hollow and I don't know how long this feeling will last.

So, I recently migrated from Tigerdile to Picarto. The main reason I did it was that Tigerdile was having a number of issues with various browsers for awhile and it was pretty awful knowing that my audience couldn't even enjoy what I was doing. Anyway, I kinda like it on Picarto, but I do miss my Tigerdile audience.

I welcome you to come join me streaming today. Still going to be more of the same (Video Games, usually the tormenting kind). Today, I'm starting one of two run-thrus of Final Fantasy 7. The second run will prove to be most interesting, so I hope you'll come join in the experience!

https://picarto.tv/JennaBradford

See you there!

So.... yesterday I finally beat Undertale. Considering how long I've owned the game, it took WAY too long for me to find the strength to do it. I don't regret finally doing it, but it wasn't until today that I'm actually feeling the full effect of the game. I woke up today with this incredible weight in my chest. Technically this all started last night when I took a bath and spent the next hour crying. I know why I feel like this and it isn't exactly Undertale that is to blame, but it does explain why this game STAYS with people who play it.

There is a cardinal sin in the gaming industry: Never make your villains redeemable. Never make them sympathetic. Never make them human. They are always supposed to be this cruel force that drives you to defeat them. Inside the industry, people who commit this Cardinal Sin are made into social pariahs and labelled as not understanding what makes a good story, but the reality is quite the opposite. A Villain doesn't have to be someone you hate, just someone who walks a different path and sees things differently. That alone is enough to make someone a villain.

The first game I can remember doing this and that I played was Shadow Hearts: Covenant with the character Kato. He had been your friend and ally since the original game, someone who has endured so much loss and hurt over the journey. He does some terrible things in his grief, trying to revive the woman he loves onto to partially succeed and then LOSES her in the exact same way. She defends him and dies as a result. Having to endure that twice, Kato decides that the world is too cruel a world because Humanity has lost its way and seeks to become a guiding force to make a world that never knows the kind of pain he has endured. In doing that, he would ultimately destroy all life in the world as he goes back in time to become a God to early mankind.

...but Yuri and his friends stop him by force because you can't solve things by going back in time. You have to keep going forward. This made Kato one of my favorite villains in video games. There have been many characters over many generates of games who have taken up this mantle of True Tragic Hero. They aren't really Villains but they are made to take that place because that is what the story needs. Asriel is just the most modern story in this legacy.

Weirdly enough, Asriel's story is actually the most painful and the more I think about it, the more parallels I see between him and I. The stronger the parallels, the more intense the pain that resonates in my heart. Those feelings only grow stronger when you see parallels between the cast of Undertale and your friends and family... How can this game not hurt to play? How can something like this NOT stay with you? We've all felt those feelings, like we are forgotten, like no one understands, that no one can help us, like we're trapped and not ourselves anymore. This is what I am calling the "Undertale Effect" because it is very rare that something reflects those dark memories and feelings so strongly.

There is a lot more I want to say in this journal, but I don't feel I should. I'm emotionally wrecked enough, so I want to end this with a beautiful thank you to all my friends that have stayed by my side all these years. I want to share a song that reflects how grateful I am to know you all. It's a Duet Cover of "His Theme". You can find here: https://youtu.be/n2mTK1iuGqY

I started playing Undertale the other day. Given how long the game is been out and the fact that I have owned the game since its Steam Release, it's actually a curious question as to why it has taken me so long to finally play the game. If you know me well, then this won't come as a surprise... I haven't been able to play the game because I was afraid of it. Being the overly emotional person that I am, I was scared that the experience would leave me emotionally broken. I wanted to see if that train of thought was right... so I started playing the game last night while dealing with extreme fatigue from intentionally saying up way to late to lurk in art streams.

I wasn't wrong. I didn't make it very far before my fear of emotional damage started to manifest itself with Toriel. Mind you, I am completely ignorant of what happens in Undertale. You can't exactly avoid its influence because the game is beyond incredible. What I was not prepared for was struggling to save Toriel with having avoided reading walkthroughs and evade spoilers. I wanted to save her because she is such a sweet person who just wanted to protect me. I didn't want to fight her, but I couldn't figure out how to save her. I thought if I could weaken her enough, I could try talking to her and save her that way, but I was wrong.

So I killed her by accident as my attack did way too much damage and I cried. I quit, thought I would try again, and then I saw that line. "Why are you looking at me as thought I was a ghost?". That cycle repeated, and each failed attempt meant I cried more and more as I struggled in vain to try and save her. It took me almost an hour before I figured that I should just keep trying to save her over and over. It was bittersweet to beat her without killing her only to say goodbye...

And then that FUCKING FLOWEY just had to go and rub salt in my wounds as he said he knew what I did. He knew that I murdered her. He gloated about it and vanished. I put my head down on my desk and wept for a good 10 minutes.

Eventually, I will beat this game, but it is ripping deeper emotional wounds than I was expecting. I knew what to expect, what I was avoiding, but I was not prepared for how deep this would hurt. I am glad I decided not to stream this game because no one wants to hear me cry on stream almost nonstop.

Curse you, Toby Fox. Curse you and your ability to make me like people I should hate!