• He/Him/She/Her

Oscillating rapidly between fox twink and wolf tomboy
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Slightly late, for Reasons, but, Happy New Year, all. Hope it's been good enough of a start so far.

I wish I had something meaningful to say as the main body of this post, but I kind of ended up doing a self-indulgent, kind of navel gaze-y self-evaluation ramble instead. Whoops. I'm just gonna hide it under the cut so you don't have to see it.


I'm not very good at New Year's stuff

I mean, I'm better than most at getting used to saying '2024' instead of '2023' and putting that down on papers or whatever, but I mean like. the Emotional/Social/Personal stuff.

If I've ever set a goal for self-improvement at the start of the year, it's not even that I don't meet it, it's more likely that my dumb ass forgets it entirely. I am not a reliable, functional person when it comes to doing things that are hard on purpose, even given an implicit tangible reward at the end. I'm pretty sure last year my goal was to get outside and work out more and that probably lasted like. seven weeks tops, if I were to somehow go back and count. Even knowing that I have a body that just loves falling apart and putting me through constant pain, and everyone loves telling me that it's all my fault for sitting in front of my computer all day (they're probably right), I just... can't really make myself work for incremental, eventual promises that maybe things might get a little bit better; I get discouraged too easily, especially when nobody's holding me to it, or, you know, god forbid the people I occupy a living space with believe in me

I'm not very good at starting a year off right, either. In general I usually stay up to see the clock roll over because my sleep schedule is at all times a binary check of 'have I hit the floor yet', but usually I'm just kind of doing nothing in particular, and the morning after is usually just A Monday. This year in particular I went into the new year, uh, having a panic attack for actually genuinely no reason. Like, not even to downplay it or be self-deprecating; I just kind of experienced a lot of what I assume is physiological, chemical anxiety brought on by nothing in particular and that caused me to spiral emotionally, as tends to happen with me sometimes. It is about 3 AM on the 2nd as I write this, and I'm still kinda coming down from that, because these things aren't aren't exactly quick for me. Anyone else ever have anxiety strong enough that it brings on a dissociative episode that makes you feel like you can't tell your limbs apart? I don't know how to describe it but it made me horrendously uncomfortable and it's only mostly gone right now.

I guess I just find it easier to look back in retrospect and try to see what I did well? Most obvious of which, it feels pretty nice to at least... mentally have the gender situation squared away. 'Genderfluid' hasn't stopped feeling right since I've started saying it with my whole throat. Granted, I don't really know what to pursue... next, if that makes sense, like if HRT is even right for me let alone how to go about that, or how to actually dress myself or style my hair in a way that makes me feel good. Making my own decisions is hard and scary and difficult when nobody in my physical space is exactly happy to help. Like, I count my blessings that I'm not being abused over it, of course I do, but I just feel... stranded, I guess.

The thing I'm most proud of by far is actually being, like, 90,000 words or whatever into the writing project I've been working on since around March of this year, with the gay wolfgirls and all. Granted, it's not 90,000 words I feel like I could present right now, seeing as I'm a dumbass who has been doing things in a weird order, and 90k isn't actually that much in the scale of 'I am nearly a full year into this and this is everything I have to show for it', but... this is, by far, the most tangible Product I have ever Produced, after several years in the middle of mostly just... 'thinking about how cool things would be if I did them, and then not doing them'. Running Red is not something I'm gonna let die with me, I care that much about it. Being this far into it feels unambiguously good. Like I have something to show for all my love of it. I hope I actually get to a point where I feel like I can show it soon enough, but... honestly, if I make it to next year at ~200,000 equally un-presentable words, I'll call that a victory. Pounding on wood as hard as I can right now.
And I mean, if I'm correct about that 90k estimate, technically I am over-average considering at one point I set myself the standard of 'if I can break 1.5k words per week, that's a win'. I'll take that.

Other than that, I'm still just kind of... disabled and NEET, in a way I don't even know that I want to talk about. Because it's embarrassing and I hate it. I get enough scrutiny already at thanksgiving and christmas parties, thanks.

Writing this out, I was kind of hoping to have some kind of thesis to make this worth posting by now. God I wish I was that smart. The closest thing to a 'conclusion' I have is 'my New Year's resolution is to become a person who can stick to a New Year's resolution', and that's a weird cop-out that I don't know that I like. I can't quantify that, unless that means doing my damn pull-ups like I was supposed to last year.

I think I might still post this though. Just because... maybe it'll make for a good time capsule. Maybe that'll be the metric I'll judge that resolution by. This is gonna be up, for all 0 people who care to see, and it'll be something I can look back on. Maybe the hope'll be that by this time next year, I'll be able to pull this up and not even feel bitter about it. Maybe I'll have made a little progress. Who fucking knows in what direction, but... progress.

Who knows. I'll do my best though.


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