*When you try and find an old diary – twenty years ago this week, I was at Gallipoli. And slept in for the Dawn Service. Not my greatest moment ever lol – and find notes you wrote four years ago, about a week before your mental health admission to hospital. Remember, the following is from 2014, trigger warnings all over the place*
Tear me to shreds
Have tried to be the “alpha” male in previous relationships DID NOT WORK
Anxiety, surprising – am usually not so anxious
Melbourne – could be positive or negative
Have I culled enough friends yet? Expansion phase? Scattershot or focussed?
Never seems to work out “right”
Let alone when actually FALL in love
What is WRONG with me and relationships
FRIEND ZONE. UGH.
I can’t STOP being caring, supportive, loving
Nor can I stop second guessing myself. UGH.
Wanting to come out
Relegate homme to secondary role
Work, masochism, family
Dakota needs a surname – social media?
Rolls eyes at self
Definitely putting more effort into femme wardrobe lately
*And what has occurred the last four years? Apart from, you know, survival. Dakota has a surname. All that confusion has evolved into arty drag. Not trans. Homme/femme? Both/neither/just me/not actually important. Staying single forever. Culled more friends than I thought I would, including some previous besties. Accepted my past. Acknowledge my own flaws. Putting myself first. Bulletproof in all my life, not just one aspect of it*