Dear diary, I have returned with a sense that this identification with the feminine is exactly what keeps me away from depression. If I even start thinking about identifying again as "man", as "masculine", and conforming to what those terms entail, I would be feeling the same shit, the same demons coming back, and once again I would feel like a veil is being put in front of my eyes. If I am to be here, it is as somebody who has recognized something deeper is going on. My gender really is that different. I have to embrace it. Screw the image, too often I worried about it and that's why I was so depressed and inauthentic, and I didn't know what I wanted. Unlike the past, however, I will not abandon this feminine identity, and I'll continue to embrace it and see what happens.
And, if I needed additional confirmation about what's going on, after today's shower I felt like I should have had a female chest. It is too... empty. I don't know what to do.
Why is the world so wide and huge? I went out for a walk on an open field and, honestly, I was sweating and almost breathless. It's just so much to process that my brain is just... overwhelmed. I read about agoraphobia but it's not that exactly, it's not an anxiety disorder, at least not purely. I don't think I'm afraid of the openness of fields, I would say it's rather that there is concrete data in terms of e.g. trees, close and far away, and then there's the giant, fuzzy, limitless sky, the details of which I can't make out. The issue is that, for some reason in these times, I can't reconcile the data without feeling anxious. If it all was comprehensible, I wouldn't worry. But the world is so huge, yet my experience as a relatively small organism - it's also some kind of cosmic(!) megalophobia, the fear of insignificance. Maybe it's more so megalophobia than agoraphobia. I just... don't know why the world is this way.
I guess we just live in a massive sandbox. Maybe this can help me. Imagine the Earth as Minecraft - the world is massive, but the significance of the player is undeniable. An open field is not empty. It does not speak of our smallness. It is potential. Cities were once just fields, just nature - seemingly nothing. And yet, our entire existence, our entire civilization rests on that we were able to adapt Earth to our needs - for better and for worse. The field is merely untamed, and, if anything, the fields and the skies should be afraid of us - not we of them. We are the bad guys... or girls.
It's possibly also an HSP thing since I have a high SPS - Sensory Processing Sensitivity - and the symptoms get worse if it's very bright outside, like a cloudless day sky. Not only is the world huge, but it's piercing my eyes. I am just more sensitive to that and I need to wear aviators. And maybe a cap. Somehow, people traversed the whole world by sea, surrounded by nothingness... and nothing happened to them. The nothingness does not "eat away" humanity, both can just coexist, matter in one area is not affected by less matter in more area. It's just a perception kind of thing.
I realized also that my gender dysphoria gets worse when I try to speak with a deep voice expected of men. In retrospect, it just seems like I'm hurting myself so hard to the point where I just don't know who the hell I even am. Why would I speak like that? Why would I be... this male? It doesn't feel right. I feel one thing internally, but a completely different thing is part of my expression.
Somehow, it feels more natural to have a more breathy, or at least not as abdomen-based voice. It just allows for more expression, and it doesn't feel like piercing something within my subconscious.
I didn't write this yesterday, since I only experienced this after writing in my diary, but before July started I felt such an intense surge of gender dysphoria that I almost had a panic attack. I realized that... I am male. I am not female. Biologically speaking. My recognition of this kind of dissonance, that it was always dreaming inside of me even when I was performing a "man" - it explains why I often referred to myself in third person, or I described myself in third person when I looked at myself in the mirror. For possibly the first time when I went up to the mirror, I realized that I was not looking at... myself. This was someone else. This was a lie. I was not meant to be... this.
And to think that I've had this stirring deep within me for years. I really do wish I was fucking born a woman. I do feel fuller when embodying such a presence. Imagining I have such a body. Such a presence. Feeling the weight of it. That feels authentic. Not me being seen as male, or a male role model by others.
Yet, on a lighter note, alongside my better recognition of my feminine identity also came a better sense of self-discipline. I have done more tasks today. I have felt better directed than during most of June. I have had fewer bad habits today - and if they were today, I made them less intense. Honestly, things are looking up on many levels; July may very well be my month. My month of reclaiming myself in more ways than one - not just gender. Once again this attunement to goal-setting and going forward to reaching those goals feels authentic and it reminds me of those better days in April, when I was really disciplined. Hell, I even used my dream journal again. Now I have to keep in mind that I should bring back my Obsidian task list. One of the last steps of my beginning phase of reclaiming initiative and being decisive in my action.
Who would have thought that identifying as more feminine would have opened up new energy, gotten rid of depression, and allowed me to become more meaningfully productive and especially full of intention?
I love feeling the warmth and fullness, and this kind of holistic existential satisfaction, when I see myself as feminine, along with body and soul alike. If I wanted something to further guide me in my future, it has to be this recognition that life is joyful again, life is no longer just constant hiding from something. It was all authentic all along.
❤️love to both myself now and in the future, you are fine and loved as you are❤️
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The path from self-betrayal to self-acceptance is not a gentle one. It leaves marks. But those marks are not just reminders of pain—they are the outlines of a life reclaimed. You have every right to feel bitter. But you also have every right to move forward. Not as a person unscarred, but as one finally, gloriously whole.
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