7:29 p.m. - Thursday, Jul. 03, 2003
Happy Fourth Y'All
A good friend wrote to me, asking if I planned on making another entry in my diary. In fact, I do plan to make another one. I�m just not sure when. Maybe if just one or two more children see fit to call me disgusting in the comments, I�ll get just mad enough to start writing every day again. In the meantime, I thought it might be a good idea to post a copy of the letter I wrote back to my friend. It explains, more or less, where I�m at just now. In case you�re wondering.
Thanks D;
It�s funny.. I still haven�t gotten used to having people think enough of me to wonder if I�m still alive. Maybe it�s because when they do, I treat them so rotten they give up and leave me alone.
In another life, I would have said I�m not posting right now because I�m lazy or just plain bad. Maybe that�s true, but the patterns in my life indicate otherwise. It�s never failed before: The moment I gain any measure of success or recognition, I panic.
When I went to Thailand, I found that I was a minor celebrity among the American Girls, and even one from the Phillipines. It was flattering, but it was disconcerting too. They said things about me that I couldn�t really handle. They said I was an �inspiration�.
I�ve gotten the same kinds of comments in e-mails too, although I�ve lost them all now. They call me things I know I am not or they have problems I can�t solve, but they look to me for sympathy and advice. And then of course, there is always a smattering of e-mails telling me how fucked up I am, or calling me to God. Bless their hearts, those people tell me I�m fucked up for free, after I�ve already spent so many hours and so much money to find out the same thing from professionals. I should send them a dollar.
In the middle of it all, I know inside that I�m not the inspiration or wise one some people believe me to be. I can no more live up to their expectations as an inspiring model than I could live up to their expectations of me as a man. But I feel obligated. Over time, I can feel myself not being me anymore. I start trying to be that person everyone thinks I am� and it doesn�t work. I will always let them down in the end.
I�m smarter now. I know the name of this thing. It�s called �imposter syndrome�. I can�t tell you how irritating it is to learn that every thing I do, think or feel has already been done thought or felt by thousands of other people before me. I�m such a garden variety goofball. Not even all that unique. But knowing the name of it doesn�t make it go away. It only helps me understand a little bit of what�s happened so often in my life.
Anyway. I know I can�t write for my readers. I have got to write for me or not write at all. So I guess I�ll write in my diary the moment it suits ME. I�m just not big enough to do anything else.
In the meantime, I think I�m doing pretty good. I finally got all the best pieces screwed together to make a pretty decent computer. And I�ve gone ahead and ordered some more pieces to make it even better. I�ve started listening to music again, after years of not wanting to listen to anything. And I�m keeping my apartment pretty clean, and opening my blinds in the daytime. You know, healthy stuff. Geez, I even bought some sausage and I�m cooking red beans & rice. I haven�t cooked since before I bought that microwave.
In short, I�m still on the road towards living. The whole issue of what sex I am or what sex I was is receding into my past. I may have to struggle with the ramifications for the rest of my life, but the issue itself is closed. That part of my life is over at last. Now the goal is to figure out where I go from here. I�m starting to do that.
Thanks for your wish for a happy 4th. I plan a quiet one, as usual, but I�m sure it�ll be nice. I hope you have a great one too.
It occurred to me that this letter itself might be appropriate for an entry, so I�m going to post it for others to read. It�s most likely the decent thing to do.
I know I�m going to write again soon. There are times when I can�t stop myself. Until then, I hope for HTDB for everyone.
Leslie Elaine (I�m still awfully pleased with that name)
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