I've been trying to do some exploration as far as who I am, because for a while, specifically femme hasn't felt quite right. Presentation-wise, I tend to fall into the masculine most of the time any more. My hair is shorter, I shaved one side of my head, my average outfit on a daily basis has been jeans+tshirt+flannel. It's really cool that after all these years of trying to assert my femininity to the world, I'm finally comfortable enough with myself to start exploring parts of me that I used to outright reject. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a nonbinary woman, or at least that's the closest I can come to putting any label on it. It kinda helps that I've been seeing a nonbinary guy, because talking to him has REALLY been eye opening for me. It also feels really good from a relationship standpoint. The more I get into polyamory, the more I have no idea how I ever lived without it. Hana is fantastic, and there's no one on the planet I'd rather be with for the rest of my life, but there's just some things that I want/need in a partner that she can't provide. It's not a failing on her part; there are things that I can't do for her, either. It makes sense to seek others who can fill those gaps. It's not easy, and there's a lot of conditioning saying that poly is wrong that I have to get past, but I feel rather fulfilled in my romantic relationships at the moment.
So, nightmares. I don't know if they're from stress because of school, hoping I get the job I interviewed, or everything that's being dredged up in my mind from the whole Kavanaugh stuff, but I've had trouble sleeping the past week or so. When I finally do get to sleep, I have nightmares, usually about what happened to me in Washington. I always seem to be back there, and even worse, I always am utterly devoted to my abuser. A complete wreck if he's not around, needing him to make things make sense for me or tell me what to think. If it's not a nightmare of him, then it's usually something else where I'm stripped of all my free will, or eventually die a gruesome death. It's to the point where I really don't want to go to sleep. What's the point, right? I'll be up in a cold sweat in another hour or two. I watching Kavanaugh testify last week, I was strongly reminded of my abuser. Like, to the point where I was trying to shrink back into my seat to make myself seem smaller or less threatening, and I was tense the entire time. I've heard that tone of voice. I still hear that tone of voice, it's in those nightmares, him telling me that if I'd just done what he'd told me, this wouldn't have happened, claiming that I'm a manipulative bitch and that I was using him. Hearing that he's been confirmed is making me feel sick. It also just reaffirms my decision to never tell my family exactly what Paul did to me, or what my cousin did years ago; they'll never believe me.
If you read this, grats, you're basically reading my exhausted ramblings. Probably made no sense, no replies are necessary, since I really don't know what could be said. Just was kinda getting it out there and all that jazz.