It's past midnight. I have excuses, but they're not really much I can go into. Needless to say, though: the work I wanted to do? Didn't get it all done. Got about half of it done. I wanted to talk today about my kitten. That...didn't get to happen. But basically, to summarize what I was gonna say, she's getting spayed tomorrow, and I'm not only hoping everything goes well, but also that she continues to be the same kitten she was after. She's such a gorgeous, precious little girl. The way she is full of energy, loves to play, the adorable suckling she does, her mew, the way she can loudly declare "pay attention to me", and all of that, I'm honestly hoping that all remains.

I don't know what, exactly, is likely to happen, there. I mean, it's something that does need to be done. But I don't know much about what it entails (other than the obvious), and if there's any strong biological differences to be had once it is done. (There's always the psychological risk involved, but I don't think that's an issue with her.)

Anyway, it's 2 AM now. I'm considering going to bed at a time which, for me, is reasonably early. I didn't get the work done that I wanted to, but I am also...not in the mood to do anything more. I'm emotionally exhausted, mentally a bit tired, and physically slightly sleepy, so...it seems to be that time.

Mostly my own darn fault.
​I'm running behind, really behind, lots of things I need to do, but it's almost 5 AM and I need to go to bed, so I'll have to wait on them.

...When you're tossing and turning all night long, no thanks to a form of gender dysphoria setting in. Yesterday, I was actually feeling a bit...almost euphoric, in at least some part thanks to the article I linked to you. But something made me lose 'the zone', and suddenly, the harsh reality of my biology set in and I felt like crying.

No matter how much I tried to push it away, it was there--and I haven't even begun to WORK yet, which always seems to make the problem that much worse. I did manage to eventually focus on something, though: similar to the zone; I more or less focused on a hypothetical conversation which would touch on what, to me, 'the zone' actually is.

And I realized...why keep it hypothetical? Why limit it to a scenario never likely to actually happen? I have a blog, so I might as well use it. (Bear with me for a while, though.) You're in for a treat, but this'll be very long even if I don't include the meism part that I easily have a tie-in for should I choose to. (Probably not; this is gonna be insanely long even without that.) Even if I exclude religion (feeling iffy about going down that tangent and talking about it), this is gonna be my normal certifiably crazy rambling, so buckle up.

I'll start by saying this much: I've covered this much before, at least once or twice somewhere on this blog and maybe more elsewhere, but basically, remember how I've described myself as having an overreactive imagination? How that's not a typo of 'overactive', and where I have my imagination react to literally everything?

As a refresher, for new blog readers or old ones who forgot--basically, I have this incredible ability to view things. My mind's eye view of the world allows for things that don't exist or even can't exist to be physically interacting with the real world, just as if they did.

I can snap my fingers, and -fwoom-, suddenly, I have a fireball. This fireball is utterly invisible to everyone. If I look down at my hand, I see...my hand. But without looking down, by envisioning my hand, by seeing my hand without actually seeing it, I see the fireball dancing around my palm, which with the flick of my wrist, will go spinning.

A couple of processes can be used to make a similar energy/plasma ball. I can summon various swords (or on some occasions, daggers) into either hand. Rarely, I'll have a shield, though not too often. I enjoy summoning whips, most commonly imbued with fire, but they can be non-elemental too, especially a whip-sword.

I can stab myself with these weapons, and feel them enter me, causing a reaction. And then I can regenerate damage to myself easily and quickly. If I break a bone (usually intentionally), it is easily mended. In my mind's eye, sometimes I can generate scenarios where I influence people without actually doing anything, manipulating them in forms of mind control.

I can freeze time, if only for a few moments. I can sprout angel wings on my back--normal, ice, even fire wings. I can summon darkness itself. I can launch ice spikes, or maybe seeds which sprout at an impossibly-fast rate and act like bullets. I have the power to lash out with the air itself, both as a blunt blow and a sharp slice. I can manipulate the flow of water in my palms, watching it flow from one spot to another in full control of it.

I can build up my ki/chi/xi/chakra, and then release all that energy at once explosively. I see hidden stashes of weapons and assorted goods that I unlock. I can influence the environment, doing anything from breaking bricks to causing a wall of dirt. I can reach out with telekinetic hands, which accomplish phantom tasks. I use staves, I create many guns, use bows, have super strength, have super speed, can fly, may be able to teleport, have some form of telepathy, can communicate electronically without being near electronics, and am even clairvoyant.

I can pull things along on puppet strings as a puppeteer. I can utilize razor floss because it combines the binding power of a whip with the cutting power of a sword. I can end lives instantly by cutting threads of life. I can cause attacks to stop dead, nullifying them. I can turn my fingernails into claws. (Though, some in real life might say this is true of me anyway.) I can sprout fangs--could be just the four for a vampire, but more commonly, the maw is that of a werewolf.

The best part of this is the ability to project myself, an image of the real me, outward, to show my appearance as if I was biologically female. (Granted, I have trouble doing this while doing anything else. Most of my projections involve my physical body interacting with the non-physical environment; only a few allow me to project my female form while also allowing me to use them.)

Of course, you can point out: that's all fictional stuff, right? But I'm barely scratching the surface of what I can do with that. This happens to me all the time. So much more than what I describe above--to you, those things aren't real. To you, the fact that they don't manifest in our world makes them something nonexistent. But to me, in spite of me knowing that logically, these things don't actually exist, to me, those things are still real, as real as any pen you might hold. The phantom objects, the phantom interactions, act just as if they were real, usually with an incredible level of internal consistency.

I'm not even touching on my ability to turn objects into stories, revolving around the various ways that object could be used. (For instance: pencil as a ship, pencil as a gun, pencil as a spear, pencil as a magical tool which only appears to be a pencil, pencil as a pencil but used as a weapon to the jugular, and pencil which is used as...a pencil, to name just a few. Literally every one of the ones I mentioned above is in at least one story if not more.)

I could go on all day on the subject, really--and have, on some occasions. This is just to give you a small idea of what I see in my world. Anything can trigger me to do any of the above. Sometimes, there actually isn't a discernible trigger; it just happens. (That happens a lot, actually. I just...randomly do something. Suddenly, a blade in my hand. Suddenly, a gun. Suddenly, fireball. With no thought put in; I just reflexively do them.)

But what I came here to talk about isn't directly that. It's instead what I attribute to be the cause of my overreactive imagination. And also potentially how my autism manifests, in that I think in concepts. And, yes, it also ties into my ability to reach 'the zone'. And this source is...actually something that I've kinda sorta divided into three different things, three related aspects tied together.

Those things are what I've loosely dubbed the dreamrealm, the thoughtrealm, and the spirit/aether realm/ethereal. (Though, maybe I could say spirit/aether realm as the name of the third and ethereal as the name for all three together to simplify. My brain thinks of the ethereal as being specifically the third, though.)

Now! Long-time blog readers and devout archive bingers might recognize I've used all of these terms before, in stories. Sometimes as bit parts, and other times being the thing the whole story idea hinged upon. In said stories, universally I haven't used more than one. When saying one, it takes in the aspects of all of them usually for simplicity's sake (not to mention plot convenience) if nothing else.

That even includes in the Rubyverse, where I've mentioned the ethereal a few times in regards to spirits/souls. As per the usual, the stories differ slightly from how I actually define these, and take artistic liberties as needed for the setting. (E.g. allowing magic to actually affect the physical world, magiscience, flat-out science based around them.)

And often, I admit that until today (and probably even after today), I've used the terms fairly interchangeably, even. They kind-of blend together, in spite of me thinking that they're probably actually different things. There's slight differences in them despite them all covering a similar otherworldly plain, and while I've theorized they're somehow connected, they are in fact different, distinct things. Probably.

The dreamrealm is, by my best guess, basically the realm of the subconscious: thoughts, experiences, memories, and feelings. This is not necessarily a place accessed only at night during sleep, though that's the place easiest to reach it. It is possible even when awake, even when not doing something like meditating, even when not daydreaming, although by being in it you're having your head still be "in the clouds" a bit.

It's actually similar to what you see in Inception, but actually stronger than what you see in the film, while also being more subtle. You have this world which is all the things which are known to have existed, and they are tied together to create things which could exist, at least by the logic of the dream realm. It's not something we think about, but it's something which is always there, showing aspects of life.

The thoughtrealm is the realm of ideas and concepts. It's a place where things are created. Whereas the dreamrealm basically manipulates what does exist and what has existed, the thoughtrealm is where these things first came into existence, and where a large majority of them stay forever.

The ethereal is basically a realm transcending spacetime. All that is, ever will be, ever could be, and even never will be, placed into one spot. Not in the same sense as the dreamrealm or the thoughtrealm. The dreamrealm is a magnification of reality in essence. The thoughtrealm is a pure form of reality. The ethereal is essentially 'alternate reality', given a tangible (well, intangible) form.

None of them are 'stronger' than the others. Nor 'do more' than the others. Or are 'more important' than the others. Each have equal shares of shaping the fabric of the multiverse. Of course, this is just my rationalization of them. It's a basic approximation. While this served as a basic summation of how I see them, I'm not sure if I can get a better translation--in fact, I'm not even sure these definitions are even accurate.

These realms are largely speculation on my part. Now! I fully believe they exist. 100% entirely, truly, sincerely believe they exist. My understanding of them may be flawed; my belief in them is not. I don't particularly know the details, in other words. I hold them as being part of the multiverse, but how big a part, who knows? (For instance, one of my theories is that they might tie into dark matter/dark energy, but again, not even remotely confident in that.)

In fact, nobody. I know we can't scientifically prove any of this yet, but I actually believe that key word is yet. I feel that it's not a matter of IF we can, but WHEN. Maybe that never comes, maybe we never figure out how to 100% show it, prove its existence beyond all denial, but at the very least I feel that somewhere down the line it is fully possible we'll gain enough understanding of the universe/multiverse that my belief in this stops being crazy and starts to be actually something which makes sense, with evidence mounting and new understanding to back it up.

Anyway! I brought those realms up for good reason. I feel that they might be the source of my overreactive imagination. Why? Simple: because an overreactive imagination could simply be a stronger than normal connection to at least one of them. (We're all connected to all of them, I believe. It's just a matter of to what degree.)

It could even be an explanation for my autism, as I mentioned above, in that my inability to translate the concepts I think of into words could, in a sense, be me slightly "out of tune" with our reality (as we know it), and more attuned to that other plan instead.

It's even possible for my bipolar disorder, too: my jumbled, accelerated thoughts? Could be when this attunement is at its highest. And my inability to cope well might be falling out of synch with something. Of course, all of this is simply speculation on my part.

(Worthy of note and of extreme importance here, to to clarify: these statements apply to me and me alone. I would never try to justify, to write meaning, into these mental conditions in general. Ever. And for good reason. I'm merely positing a possibility for ME, personally. As a person, as an individual.)

Who knows? I find the idea at least fascinating. I know people who've talked about manipulating dreams, such that they last for an eternity and allow the dreamer to do basically anything. (Even become a god.) Again, kinda like Inception: their dreaming, to their subjective perspective of time, is a significantly longer duration than we on the outside perceive it to be, such that when they awake, the time feels comparatively short to when asleep. Quite literally, "they come here to wake up". That's not a joke of a line. Real people feel that way, about dreams.

I also know people in the occult, which to my understanding, would more or less work in the ethereal realm; they encounter entities akin to gods (some even claiming to be named gods from various mythologies), and can themselves become like ones.

And, yes. I firmly believe both to be true. I believe the people speaking are sincere in their belief. And not only do I believe their belief is sincere, I think their belief is actually onto something. I believe that their belief is actually touching upon a force we currently don't understand, but could eventually understand. I don't think it's absurd.

Now, that's not to say everything they say is the truth. Their knowledge, I fully believe, to be imperfect. I feel like they've only scratched the surface. I feel like they might be right about some stuff entirely, right about some stuff for the wrong reasons, and entirely wrong on other things. But I feel like there's something real, something tangible, something actually existing in what they have touched upon. (Incidentally, this is where I could go on about meism, but I'm making the call not to.)

Which is where my theory of these realms comes in. And I mentioned at the very beginning: 'the zone'. What, to me, is 'the zone'? For me, 'the zone' is more or less me tapping into one of these realms, and seeing my inner self. A purer, truer self. A me that is me at the most fundamental level. My spirit-self, if you will. Which is a fully-biological female, obviously.

Which is why when I am in 'the zone', I get almost euphoric. It's "in my head", but to me, it's as real as day. I live, breathe, have the essence of, a woman. My physical body doesn't match. I might not even actively be thinking about my being, my state, my body, anything like that. (In fact, I think that proof of being in 'the zone' is not having to actually think about those things, and just instinctively having the knowledge of what you really are.)

And this is why when I fall out of 'the zone', into our "reality", as we know it, as you would define it, the dysphoria strikes. Our world sinks in, and suddenly the feelings of joy sink away and turn to despair, horror, even shock, with a longing to get back to where I was.

​I hope you actually read all of this (it's probably one of the best posts I've ever made and one of the most important) rather than just skimming, because I feel like this is something that needed to be said, needed to be written, as to explain my perspective on life.

And I have no words, so I'll just link you to it.

It's an article which makes me smile, and one that I thought was a wonderful insight into the world of a transwoman. I legitimately did not know that was a thing. I'm a transwoman, and I didn't know about some of the stuff being talked about in there, which is why I say it was a good read.

Unexpectedly, my younger sister showed up unannounced. We got to watch the latest Die Hard film as a family. Today, I also got a call about a recruiter I think, so progress on the job front of sorts--not much, but some. So there's that. Stuff happened today, is what I'm saying. But, uh...since they're still talking, stuff is still happening.

So once again, can't exactly talk too much about it. Sorry.

Time kinda got away from me. It's almost 5 AM. Didn't help that I forgot tomorrow (well today) is Friday, not Saturday, so, uh...yeah. Whoops.

Not a day of blogging, but a subject to blog about on a specific day.

More specifically, that would be yesterday. I knew it was approaching, but it somehow slipped my mind yesterday. Oh well. I'll talk about it now. What was yesterday, you ask? Yesterday was the third Tuesday of January.

The three-year anniversary of the accident which nearly claimed my life...and helped set me on the path to building a new one. I think I would have discovered I am a transwoman even without the accident having occurred...but not nearly as soon. I was already in the stage of questioning my identity, so given enough time, it wouldn't have been hard for me to have put the pieces together and with guidance, accept the simple truth.

...But it would have taken me much longer than it did by having the issue forced in front of me. Having a near-death experience is a funny way of making your mind work in overdrive, after all, and the thoughts I had that day just helped it all...just click into place. It still took a couple of weeks for me to unscramble the thoughts, as to make sense of them.

Yet I still consider that the day where I realized I am a woman. It was unbelievably difficult for me to come to that conclusion. It wasn't easy. I struggled with it--I struggled a lot. And even though I was among friends and allies, fellow trans people, transgender and gender nonconforming individuals who were sources of information, there was so much I didn't know (and still don't know!), both about the transgender community and about myself.

It was scary. Especially the fear. The fear of, "what if I'm just deceiving myself?". That wasn't gone even a year later, by which time I was writing this blog. Long-time readers (few as they may be) and archive bingers will of course know that much, because I talked at various points about it, slowly and progressively coming to terms with it, coming to accept it, coming to become confident in it, and knowing, firmly, that yes, I am a girl. No matter what else, I know that I am one.

This is real. This is not a lie. This is me, telling the truth to myself at last. Finally free to express the real me--not the me I am expected to be, but the actual me. That much, I have finally come to realize. But it was no easy task. It's been a long journey, an incredible three years, and it has only just begun. I've got a lot more to do in my life, and my adventure is just starting.

So, belatedly, happy crash day to me! 

I might've gotten a much later start on life than most...but I intend to make the most of mine now that I have it.

...If it weren't for the fact that I'm not sure I ever stopped being depressed.
Namely, this because I had an idea for a song, but I actually think that I'd like to focus on the idea I just outlined above. (Didn't get far with the song--just had the idea that I wanted to write a song called "Phantom Life", with a theme involved in it being...well, basically what I'm talking about here on my blog, in a sense.)

There are some times where I feel particularly awesome: "I'm doing lots of stuff!" There's lots to be proud of. Lots of good things that I am managing to do. Lots of things I have managed to stay on top of, even without being pestered about it. Stuff that I have wanted to do, I am in fact doing. I'm productive in a lot of ways, and at times, I realize it.

...Yet for the most part, there's the intense dissatisfaction in me, of me having been a failure in multiple ways. Not every way--we just outlined above why that's not the case. Yet in multiple ways, in most ways. To the point where it might as well feel like I've failed in every way even if I haven't.

There's so much I've resisted doing.
So much I want to do but have failed to do.
So many things going wrong.
And I wonder how much of it's my fault.

And my identity is in question, too. I've compartmentalized my life a great deal. Those compartments seem to have become slightly leaky, and where I once clearly knew things, now it feels like they have begun to mix together. Not exactly blend together. But...be more actively in my head, fighting for dominance as the greater me, the whole Bree, is trying to act, and finding the conflict there.

When I talked to someone about the divide between mastina and Ranger at one point, a question I had to clarify was "do you talk to her?", and I explained that it doesn't work that way. But apparently...maybe it does, because for a moment (it was only like ten seconds or so), there appeared to have been an actual conversation between myself and...myself. Between what I understand to be mastina and what I understand to be Ranger. (At the moment of typing this, not exactly either. More like, it's Bree. Or at least one version of me.)

My identity has always been complex. Ridiculously complex. Like, really, really complex. Impossible to explain. I've tried some considerable number of times, and always been unable to give it a definition. But at least I had a bit of a usual constant, in that--while there are multiple voices in my head which converse with me--none of them were actually me as I know me to be, at least, not me as I actively am.
Buried in my blog is how I've even approximated there to be two constant ones, a negative/blunt one I called David, and another one whose name has changed over time. That type of conversation is normal to me. A bit of an odd quirk, yes, but normal all the same.

...This wasn't that. This was something different. Similar. Similar to that feeling. But different. I don't even know where to begin to explain it, if it's something worth exploring, if it's anything. It's beyond my ability to rationalize, beyond my ability to comprehend.

I feel like that simultaneously, I'm not changing and yet undergoing tremendous changes. Many of them not so good, some of them for good, most of them situational dependent with the power to be good or bad with a current lean towards bad.

And part of that, I think, is how my mind is working, how it is comprehending things. Even I think at this point there's the possibility that I might just be losing my mind. I mean. It's a given that I'm quirky. That I'm not normal. That I'm unusual--even crazy. Probably not clinically insane, though you could certainly say that by the definition of doing the same thing and expecting a different result I might be.

Still, what I talk about when I go exploring the depths of my mind takes it beyond the normal. Beyond...well, beyond anything else. People who self-confess to have messed up minds feel utterly ordinary compared to me. They might have a formally-diagnosed condition, a label for themselves, or maybe they don't, they just have this weird thing which they can share.

Yet I'm a weirdo even among weirdos. I don't necessarily consider that a bad thing. I do know, however, it is in fact, actually, a thing.

Hmm...how about that, as of yesterday, my parents are down in Oregon? That's an important detail I'd think. It's only for a couple of days, but that was a thing. For stuff. Complicated lifesaving stuff. I mean. I'm not keeping the details vague here intentionally--I just don't really know many of the specifics, and the few I do, I don't know how to convey coherently. It's a thing, though. That, it is.

Anything else? Well, I feel like my life's a mess, but that's nothing new. Sometimes I feel on top of the world. Other times I most definitively do not. This is one of those times. I'm tired though, so while this is something I want to talk about...it's not something I want to talk about more than I want to take a nap.

​Maybe tomorrow?

It really, really, really does. Especially given just how thoroughly I've mostly gotten rid of it. (Basically, it doesn't hit often, but that makes it all the worse when it does.) My hair is feminine. While my body hair growth (especially on the face) is problematic, shaving it has become routine.

In short, my appearance has become heavily feminized. Even female body language is becoming easier to master. (Well, maybe. Hard to judge, really. It feels female, and feels easier.) I may not look like a girl, but I realistically pass for androgynous at the least--no mean feat for someone with the misfortune of being 6'2".

This, not even going into how thoroughly my online life has taken hold. On rare occasions, as Ranger. Mostly as either Bree, or mastina. They have absolutely DOMINATE my brain, my life. Actively thinking. Being. Feeling. Living. I live as a girl online. My persona comes through as a girl. I chat with women of all ages, and I fit in as one of them. I identify with them more than I do with guys.

 feel in my element as who I am, online. I feel like me. I feel ME. I don't feel like a person in a male body at all, because it all vanishes away. Something about it is magical. When my physical presence isn't at hand, I feel like my true self, my spirit, my very soul, shines through brightly. It's...actually euphoric.

...And then comes the interactions offline. Especially at work. When people say something, my autism has pre-programmed my response in: I'll say "Alright", or on some occasions, if not, I'll answer, "'kay."
...It's anything but. I instinctively lie. I don't know why, but I do.

There are no words to explain. Only pain. Pain, at the deepest fundamental level. While I can't disclose the details of what happens at work, as long as I lack the courage to come out and tell them the truth, my coworkers can't help but unknowingly unintentionally misgendering me as male.

And that hurts. It hurts a lot. It crashes me. My hand is shaking. I'm still not recovered. I knew it was coming. I prepared myself. Steeled my resolve to get through the day. Numbed my mind and did the simple task that they asked of me. Yet no preparation can leave me ready.

How could it? How could there be anything to tell me that it's fine? It's not. And on every level, I KNOW it's not. I can't live this way. It's not my life. The utterly alien experience is ironically the one saving grace, from me suffering a complete meltdown. (And believe me I'm close to one.)

My autism recognizes these experiences as SO foreign, SO outside the norm, it's capable of, on some level, rejecting them--of blocking them out, of letting me ignore the situation I'm in because focusing on it would be too painful. But...it only works so well. It's a stopgap measure, and my endurance wears down.

Doesn't help that I can't watch anime now, either. I normally have entertainment on Saturday nights. I had none, so the bedtime I used to pretend was mine has now become sincere.
Just. Not going my way right now, things.