Hang in there, Little Tomato!

This has pretty much been my mantra lately. There has been so much happen since my last blog that I don't know where to begin, so I'll just start with the stuff that's up front in my head.


I'm getting a haircut. This has been such an unnerving thing to think about lately, I'm surprised it feels like such a natural decision now. I'm getting it cut even shorter. Yes, shorter. My hair is a release point for me. Whenever I'm stressed or anxious, I cut my hair. I did a bit of hacking away a week or two ago when I found out Louise was moving her practice, but it's still chin-length. I feel like I need to drop a load of dead weight our of my life, and a haircut always gives me a lighter, weight-off-my-shoulders feeling, like I'm getting rid of all the anxieties and hang-ups that have been building up inside me. I need that to be able to get on with the rest of my shit.


 Also, it turns out my little gender-shift wasn't as temporary as I assumed it would be. I've been searching the fringes of the interwebs and reading up on the subject. Ever since I can remember, I've been discouraged from thinking outside the box. The general rules seemed to be "Don't step out of line, do as you're told, don't let your personality imprint on anything outside of your mind." I have no idea where that last one came from, I have no memory of any life lesson or lecture, but it's been a huge roadblock in my life for... ever. Since I was about 12, I've been slowly uncovering the real person underneath all the stuff I've been told I'm supposed to be. I guess this is just another fun fact I've learned about myself. I've been becoming more and more comfortable with the term "genderqueer," even more so with "androgynous." Because of this, I've been reconsidering what I'll change my name to. I've been Tabitha for the past few years, at least to the people I like. I think it would be smart to chose a unisex name. Small problem, though, a lot of the unisex names I've come across so far are so plain. I never thought I'd want to start making lists of potential names again, but I find my self feeling more optimistic this time around. I've been hanging around on Genderfork, taking note of the kind of names and stuff. I feel good about this.



Before school started, my younger brother Jerome and I went to stay with our Aunt Kym and Uncle Greg for a week. This was a big week. I found out that most of my family know about the problems we've got going on, but were not aware of how much Mum's drinking was affecting us, or how much and often she drinks. There was a family meeting, where we got it all out and I got into a fight with my giant of a grandfather where we both had to be restrained. A few days before that I would have just broken down in tears even before the argument, but I felt so different after staying with Kym and Greg. There was a lot of time-wasting when everyone tried to convince my brother and I that it was our job to take care of Mum. What the fuck does it look like we've been trying to do? She's supposed to be the mother in this relationship. I figured that out a few years ago and backed off, and stopped thinking of myself as the one in charge of everything. One of the few intelligent adults to ever speak to me honestly said that if I acted like a kid, Mum would become the mother I needed. Bullshit. She's just not mother material. Good intentions don't equal good parenting. It's taken me a while to admit that. I've been feeling guilty for saying Mum's not the greatest, well, mum, but now I understand: she's not a dead-beat, she's just genuinely incapable. She's still a child herself. She had kids because it was what married couples were supposed to do. 


It's also taken me a while to admit I'm not okay, and asking for help is definitely not something I've had a lot of practice at. After  they got the message with a little help from Kym, who just listens like you wouldn't believe, we discussed alternative living arrangements. I'd already asked some of the aunts and uncles for help, and they just kind of blew me off while trying to stifle large quantities of guilt. The problem with my family is that they do want to help, they just don't fully understand, which was the point of the family meeting. My aunt Karen was trying to get an apartment with a friend, so I could move in with them and operate like an adult, but I'm so not ready for that it's not even funny. I've tried to operate like an adult for a long time, I can't do it. I admit I need parental figures in my life. (There's a lot of admitting going on) Kym understands that, and we've been working on finding a way for me to live with her. I had hoped to have the majority of these issues resolved before I started school, but it hasn't happened that way. I've been holding up okay, though, but it's starting to take it's toll. Thus the need for ejecting dead weight.


School is awesome. Simply awesome. I love my teachers, my classes, the stuff I'm learning, I've met loads of cool, interesting people. A few weeks ago, we went on an excursion for art to the APT6 exhibit at the Brisbane Gallery of Modern Art. It rocked, bigtime. I look forward to seeing it again without herds of raucous eight-year-olds running around. I totally aced my Art exam the other day, too (I think). Apart from feeling a little over whelmed (okay, a lot) the last few days, things have been very, very, good.


This post is getting ridiculously long, so I'll just leave it here.

xx Remarkable

Brain Spew #2, Hair Issues and Boy Issues

I have barely written anything in my notebook in the last few days, and we all know that's not a good thing, so I'm going to spit out whatever I can right now. You are under no obligation to read it, in fact I highly suggest you don't, lest your brain be short-circuited by the frantic buzzing in my own.

I've had so much going on in my head lately, but no will to let it out on paper. I guess it's times like these one needs people to talk to. I really don't do enough talking. I'm like a balloon that's too full of air, I need to let it out!

Speaking of which, I have my next appointment with Louise tomorrow. With my Mum. This was supposed to be the big sort-it-all-out session, but my brain is so far away from the issue at hand, I have no idea what I'll say. I think once every 2 weeks is no where need frequent enough for my sessions with Louise.

I've been considering growing my hair out, which is scary somehow. I cut it super short a few months ago, into a sort of Louise Brooks bob, in line with my lips. It was kind of a big deal because I tried a short, shaggy cut when I was 11, cutting off my waist-long hair, and it came out horrible. I'm stubbourn, though, so every time it grew long enough to try again, I did, then got frustrated when it looked terrible. I'd managed to not cut it (apart from the not-so-infrequent Haircut of Despair) and had it down to my shoulders. Anyway, this time I looked damn good, and it was the first thing I'd ever done to physically acknowledge any kind of gender-variant behavior, though I didn't mention this to anyone. The fact that I thought I looked like a young Willy Wonka was my secret, though I think my granddad was unnerved by how it made me look, because he said I should grow it again, and also dye it a natural colour.

Thing is, I don't see myself as boy-ish at the moment. I'm not sure, but the it's been a few months before I cut my hair that I admitted I wasn't happy with showing the level of femininity in my appearance as I was. For some reason, now I'm a little scared about growing it out, even though it's only down to my chin now. I'm afraid of looking too... "feminine". I guess I feel kind of jipped that this short phase of my life went undocumented, apart from a few camera-phone photos on Halloween. Damn, I need a camera. What was I on about? Oh, right...

My physical appearance has always been dictated by others, hand-me-down clothes, Mum hair-cuts, that sort of thing, and it's always been girl-oriented. I've never really admitted it outright before, but now that I have I feel more comfortable with my gender(s) now, at least, the boy-ish part, and I felt good about expressing it, even if it was just to myself.

People expect me to be "female," and I guess I just don't want to give them the satisfaction anymore. I've forgotten how I was going to tie this in with the hair thing, but I don't feel right cutting it again. I'm not sure what to do here, or even if I should be worrying. Or if I should post this blog entry. To post or not to post, that is the question.

Maybe I should just shut up and go to bed. Yeah.

PS @TheLadySappho on Twitter needs out support. She's been practicing her fingers off making an audition video, and is going to ask Emilie Autumn to consider her as her touring keyboardist! Yippee!

PPS I know BB tagged me aaaaaages ago for that Honest Scrap game thing, but I really have no idea what I could write. I promise I will get around to it!

PPPS If anyone knows how to get rid of those stupid "Mood: Interesting, Funny, Cool" check boxes that appear at the end of my posts, please let me know! I'm sick of them!

XX Goodnight.