So yesterday's gym time went pretty well. My gym girl didn't show up, though, because she got detained at her work for longer than expected. I did some exercises together with a couple and my regular trainer, however, like I did on Monday as well. The guy was pretty lazy, though, and quit after a while. The girl was pretty impressed at my 80 kg with the leg press compared to her 30 kg. Afterwards we all drank some tea and chatted a bit. By the time I got home, however, I noticed that I had developed a pretty serious headache again.
After taking a shower and chatting with Pieter a bit we both went to bed. By then it was already near midnight, yet I still read a few chapters in my book (second part of the Icewind Dale Trilogy) before I went to sleep. After a few moments already I could feel the dark thoughts stirring inside me, resulting in new record in emotional breakdowns. It really felt as though I was being torn apart inside. I managed however to keep the volume down so as not to wake Pieter, as well as prevent any physical harm to myself. Ironically these breakdowns are quite a good work-out for nearly all muscles in my body.
I fell asleep at around 1 AM, to wake up again at around 3 AM, went to the bathroom, drank some water and fell asleep again at around 4 AM to wake up at around 5 AM, after which I just dozed a bit until Pieter dragged me out of bed shortly after 8 AM. I whined a lot about how miserable I felt, of course, plus how I don't exist and am nothing and such. At the very least even the mirror was clear about how I looked absolutely tired.
In my initial sleep-deprived state I was able to concentrate quite well on my work, until I began to feel exhausted again. Yet as I had promised Pieter to try not to sleep during the day, I resisted this and instead watched some anime series. I had already watched the new Bleach episode (219) during breakfast (muesli + yogurt) and decided to finish watching the last five episodes of the Kanon 2006 remake as well.
I'm still not entirely decided on whether I like the original Kanon anime series more or less than the remake. Both have some points I like, with the remake especially having more character development, also made possible by the fact that the first series was 13 episodes and the new one 24. There's been a few years (4+) since I last watched the full original Kanon series, so it's hard to judge the emotional effect both series had on me. I do remember crying like a little girl at the original series every time I watched it, though.
During the remake I had a few heart-wrenching moments too, but not as intense. Perhaps I have just been desensitized a bit, though the (* * * SPOILER * * *) scene where Shiori is on the verge of committing suicide as well as some subsequent scenes involving her did evoke some strong feelings of sympathy in me. In her case she wanted to commit suicide because she was suffering from an illness which would soon claim her life. I experience my situation somewhat similar, in that having no identity is the illness I have been cursed with, causing a similar level of suffering when it comes to finding fulfilment in life with regards to friends and social situations due to the limitations of one's body.
Anyway, after finishing that series I went for another bathroom break and saw in the mirror the one thing which keeps terrifying me: the sight of my adult self. I have always known it, but now I think I should just confess that I was wrong or lying when I said that I was still a child emotionally until a few years ago. The truth of the matter is that I'm still that child. It seems so obvious now that without knowing the identity of my adult body I could ever grow emotionally into an adult. While the rational side of one's mind does just fine without such trivialities, for the emotional growth it is essential.
Most of the time I hide this truth from my conscious self, allowing me to see myself as something... not an adult, not really a child either, but something neutral. Something which looks feminine, yet without the certainty behind it of knowing what it is exactly that I see. When I see my adult self, however, I see an adult who has no clue who or what he/she/it/whatever is, with this confusion taking away any and all joy in its life. That's the entire issue with my youth too; I have never known what I am, ergo I do not know how to deal with my youth, not when I was experiencing it and not now. It's all a mystery, and I bloody hate it.
I can experience it every day in all my perceptions; while rationally I'm still as interested as ever in intellectual pursuits, my emotional side hasn't progressed at all since 2005. Today this veil of child-like innocence (or ignorance) was pulled away, showing me how unprepared I truly am to deal with the emotional responsibilities of adult life. It scared the hell out of me. I don't want to be an adult, I don't even know what it'd be like other than the few traumatizing encounters the past few years. Yet I also know that I can't stay a child forever. Please, let me know what the identity of my body is already...
While dealing with this painful reminder I cried, or rather my body got wrecked by painful muscle contractions and waves of intense discomfort, while I slowly dragged myself through the house, trying to find some place where I could calm down a bit. In the end I found it at the top of the stairs. Now that I think about it, it seems like a somewhat symbolical location.
After letting out all the frustrations and pain, I dragged myself downstairs to my bed, read a few chapters in my book and then immediately fell into a really deep sleep from which I awoke 1.5 hours later when Pieter returned home from his work. When Pieter entered my room to drag me downstairs for dinner, he thought I had been carving myself up again with my nails, but it turned out to be merely the dried up traces of my tears. For some reason my right arm was lame for like ten minutes after I woke up.
Happier news today is that I finally received the pills for my hormone therapy I ordered a month ago. It's always a relief when they arrive, as I don't get a second chance at ordering them before my supply runs out.
Right now I'm feeling relatively okay. Just gorged down about a hundred grams of pure chocolate while watching the new Mythbusters episode. Chocolate is good. Chocolate makes one feel happy~
I'm grateful that tonight I can take another sleeping pill, though. I have come to love and hate sleep at the same time. I love how it allows me to get away from the pain for a few hours, yet I hate going to sleep and waking up, especially waking up during the night. Long live forgetfulness.