Revelling in Nostalgia of the Worst Kind

So, I was cleaning up my room today, trying to figure out what to bring to college, what to keep in my room, and what to throw away. I was sorting through some old journals, and I found one from junior year. I started reading through it and I was astounded at my complete idiocy, but also at my oblivion, as well. Yet, I still wanted to record some of my thoughts from younger, more naive days for posterity, if nothing else, before I throw them away to never see the light of day again. Here goes nothing:

3/14/2011
Probably the greatest sin of high school would be stealing another girl's boyfriend. So why do I find myself wanting to commit this sin? He's cute and funny-without-trying and sweet. And taken. There's that. But I don't think the two will last very long because, A)They've only been going out for two weeks and, B)They've been [on] three dates with, C)No physical contact whatsoever. Maybe she's a prude? Nervous? Naive? Noobish?-yes, apparently "noobish" was in my vocabulary as a junior-
In the looks department, I totally have her beat. And I'm being perfectly honest. I seem to have a slightly better connection with him and [friend I am keeping anonymous] totally said we should go out! Plus, he abandoned his workload for me!(A heart instead of a dot beneath the exclamation point to show my extreme infatuation) I haven't seriously felt this way in a while. I truly feel like it could go somewhere(It didn't). If it does, I have to be sure to keep my secrets locked away. The last time I "beared" [bared] my heart, it didn't go so well...

Thoughts? I remember this guy. I remember him seriously not being that attractive, me having a crush on him while he was dating a girl a year younger than us, who was pretty cool, actually. I don't know why I liked him... I think it was because he showed me a small amount of attention... He wore too much hair gel, and I was really, really insecure. The last sentence just referred to my douchebag of an ex-boyfriend, who kind of fucked me up/over, and never really told me why we broke up, which sucks, but I was a major drama queen and, again, majorly insecure so...

Okay, here's another journal entry that just makes me cringe:

3/16/2011
Okay, this is agony! We were in the room together on the computer and our legs were touching. Then he was all like, "our legs are touching," but neither one of us moved. Then, he said, "This is awkward," so I moved my leg. Gah! Unfair! Then, later, he totally waited for me while I was in the bathroom!(Soooo romantic!!!) And touched my hair. And... ugh! I feel like I'm over-analyzing again(YOU TOTALLY ARE) but whatever! Exasperation! This is what I hate about guys! Just dump her! Ah!

Alright, so I just really sadden myself. And I'll probably be saddened in the future when I look back on my blogs and journals. I'll probably just cry buckets, because I really am a pretty sad human being. This year that I'm writing-the school year-was also a pretty bad time. I was in Group and I was dealing with that...
These next ones, I actually like, because they show a side of me that I know better now:

3/25/2011
My heart races all the time. It's like I'm nervous or terrified about something, but I don't know what. It's not like I really have much to look forward to in my life, but still it flutters in my chest. This makes me worry that I have an anxiety disorder. I think that's just because of what we've been studying in psych. Group kind of makes me feel like I'm outside of everything because I want to ta[l]k about it and at the same time I don't won't can't. I have high hopes for it, and am even excited about next Thursday. I need to take pictures now.

3/28/2011
When I first found out that she'd had sex, something changed in me, in a huge way. When I saw her, all I could picture was her doing it with him. It was like she changed. And it sucked, because she was my girl. Every guy she liked could kiss and touch her all they wanted, but in the end, I had her soul. And that was all that mattered. Then she did it, and he took my place. And now they're done, but he's still there, clutching at her soul. I couldn't figure out why I was so upset discovering this. And then I realized it: I was jealous. Not just about the sex thing, that she can [could] just have it and it doesn't [didn't] matter. That she can let guys touch her and she doesn't need copious amounts of therapy for it. I'm stuck. Stuck reliving that stupid, goddamn, moment all the time. Even now. Especially now. Always. And I hate it. Hate that every time sex comes up in a topic, my first thought is it. I think about sex all the time, but actually doing it? Actually allowing another human to get to know me in the most intimate way possible? Terrifying. But I'm so scared that I'll get left behind. That I'll miss it. I hate this.

Well, shit. I think it's definitely crystal-clear here that I was working through a lot of crap. A LOT. I'm happy to say that Group has helped me so, so much, and that I have since worked through the residual stuff I wrote about. Mostly. Knowing exactly who this entry was about when I reread it freaked me out. I think that this, right here, might have been the moment when I knew, somewhere deep down, that I was completely gay. I didn't know that I had a moment, an exact time when it happened. And I documented it. Proud.

My next sentiments are exactly like those that I just shared. But these are from last year, so I guess my thinking hasn't really changed too much:

Probably around early November(After Rainbow Creek)
Looking through my past journal entries is interesting. I can see what was happening to me at the time, and feel the emotions that I had whilst writing. I feel, however, that not much has changed. I mean, some things in my life have, but for the most part, I'm still the same fat, weight-obsessed, insecure girl that I was about six months ago. Okay, maybe more like 8 months. I still feel stuck, like I'm playing Candyland and my piece has landed on the Molasses Swamp. I have to keep waiting to draw a color card, but there's no color card showing up.(I still think that this is a REALLY AWESOME euphemism) I'm back in group, but I was feeling this way before group. And now my thoughts are spilling into my writing for school, thus, this...

My next journal entries are not ones that I should be posting on the internet... So I won't. Trust me, no one wants to read that shit anyway, and since I was a minor, it would probably be qualified as child porn, so, eww...

Okay, after that, it's just sad. But it was definitely interesting taking a peek into the life I previously led. I guess what I'm saying is, Good riddance! I never want to feel ostracized for being me, for loving who I love, ever again. Especially not by myself. This year is going to be so fucking different, I'm going to be so FUCKING DIFFERENT. I felt the need to document this, as my time is ebbing away by the hour. I've got two days left at home. Two. I can't wait to leave my old world behind.

This might be like tmi or whatever...

But I think that I might only be capable of sustaining one orgasm at a time. It's like, I get there once, pass through the brink shuddering and screaming, but then when I try to achieve bliss again, I can't get all the way there. Women are supposed to be able to have multiple orgasms, so I've been "testing" out this idea a lot, and it doesn't seem to be working. As it is, it takes me forever with my hand to come. It is like I just can't get turned on enough. My mind wanders and then I'm basically just chilling with my hand down my pant, trying to find something that feels good. I don't know... Maybe I'm just impatient? My finger always cramps my hand up and I lose the vibe when I stop.

Fear of the Absolutely Unknown(At least until tomorrow)

I'm going to be heading off to college in the fall, my first year away from home(even though home is honestly less than 15 minutes away, depending on traffic). Lately, I've been really freaking out, mainly because of my future roommate sitch. I opted to get a roommate randomly chosen, and therefore have NO IDEA who the hell I'm going to be living with for the next year. That's a scary thought in itself. Couple that with the fact that I am naturally pretty neurotic and you get a series of circumstances that play out in my head at night where my roommate hates me and is completely opposite of me: girly, super into guys, likes rap and is really vapid. I know that I don't have to be best friends with my roommate, but I want to forge some kind of connection at least! I mean, we are going to be LIVING TOGETHER! My second fear: what the hell do I do if my roommate is homophobic? Like blatantly so? Do I confront them? Do I hide forever in my rainbow-colored closet? I wanted college to be the first time when I actually felt comfortable being me, being gay. I've never had that before, ever, except maybe at Rainbow Creek(see the My Story page). It's always been a struggle for me, and I'm still hopelessly closeted and it's really fucking stifling in there, with all my girl-on-girl fantasies and autostraddle articles. I need to open it up and let in some fresh air. But at the same time, I'm like, shit! People are going to know that I'm gay. I'm going to be that one gay girl with the blue hair and butch outlook. Do I want that? Part of me doesn't even want to check out the LGBTQQ association, for fear that I'll automatically be labeled as "that gay girl with the blue hair." This seems like a legitimate fear. I want to fit in, obviously, but I also want a chance to be myself. Is it really possible to have your cake and eat it too?

Coming Out, Feminism, and Gender-bending

So, on Thursday night, I came out to the people that are in group with me. I didn't even mention the words "gay" or "lesbian". I just said that I felt closeted and explained my circumstances: that I was in love with my best friend who has a boyfriend. And all I got was support. It was scary and I was shaking, but nothing changed afterwards. Just me, and my view of people and life. Maybe the world isn't this awful, homophobic place after all... Well, okay, it isn't the world that's bothering me; it's my world that's the issue. I told my sister today that I wanted to join a feminist club once I'm in college and she said, "Don't be like that!" When I told her I already was a feminist, she scoffed. Her reaction made me feel stifled. She once told me that she didn't think we had anything in common and we never talked. Maybe that's because I feel like I have to hide myself from even her. Maybe I don't want to talk about guys and smoking weed like she does(I don't actually know about that second part... so that really isn't fair of me to say...) But still! She always gets on me about my appearance too, which bums me out. I just want to be me. There shouldn't be a problem with me wanting to wear men's cologne. I shouldn't be warned against cutting my hair short. What, is she worried that I'll look like a dyke? Well, maybe I want to play the part! Maybe that's who I am! I also really want to wear men's underwear. I see no problem with this. I'm just experimenting, trying to figure out what works for me. If I wear briefs or panties, who gives a shit! I'm just feeling angsty today. Pardon the extra bitchiness. I just feel so absolutely restricted to this little box that has been placed around me since the day I was found out to have female genitalia. It's not like I want to be a man, I'm not trans and I feel comfortable in my female body. I just want to have the chance to wear men's clothes, to cross-dress, should I so choose to. The end.

Lesbian Porn

Or should I say girl-on-girl porn? It was basically designed for men, by men. I'm not a crazy man-hating-dyke or anything like that, but seriously? The stuff that I'm watching now, the only thing honestly turning me on is the moaning, and even that is faked. It just turns me off watching women that are so obviously fucked by men on a regular basis. The eating out? Awkward. The kissing. More awkward. They were flicking tongues at each other. I just think that there should be porn out there made for women who like women. Not guys who get turned on by that. Watching this versus watching Brokeback Mountain makes me realize that some people are meant to act, and some are meant to entertain and create boners. Guess which one Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger are assigned to?