Facts About Me.

• I'm incredibly vain.
• I'm good at charming my way out of trouble.
• If my partner tells me to do something, I instantly do it. Same goes with following her ideas.
• I've becoming fairly good at lying through self-preservation.
• I have a tendency to love things too much.
• I act confident, though really it's mostly an act.
• I can be stalkerish.
• I don't like having so many things but hate getting rid of things.
• If ginger beer were alcoholic, I'd be constantly drunk.
• My influences and heroes are mainly characters in series, books or films.
• I never hold grudges.
• I tend to become emotionally attached to minor characters.
• I'm easily affected by emotions such as sadness and joy.
• I love camping.
• I am mostly childish.
• I still dream of adventuring with the Doctor, going to Neverland, or being on a Pirate Ship.
• I make friends easily.
• I find trust difficult.
• I feel most at ease when I'm with my partner.
• I feel least at ease around my family.
• I used to have nightmares a lot.
• When I was a kid, I fell asleep dreaming I was Peter Pan, or the Doctor. Never with them, because I wanted to be as strong as them and thought maybe if I was them, it would work and keep the nightmares away.

I do not fear what is to come, but what has already been.

Yesterday, I've been informed, was Trans* awareness day. Seems strange, since for me Trans* Awareness Week was in Bournemouth back in February or something. I literally missed it by two weeks when I got settled into Over The Rainbow.

Yesterday, I finished my AS English Literature exam. The first part of the paper was literally unlike anything ever in the paper, and we've been through all of them, so that was painful. I managed to make links and do all that was required, but it was not as good as it could have been. We were all very unprepared.

Part two, however, was a question we'd actually done last week. So that was easy.

Today, I met up with a best friend and someone I haven't seen for a while. We got crap food and went to my mate's house because his family are out of town and we wanted to watch movies. We've gone through A Very Potter Musical, and then the person I haven't met for a while, who I'll name Coulson, admitted she hasn't seen half of the latest half of season 7 of Doctor Who. My mate's internet was fucked up, so we could only show her last week's episode.

The finale was very painful, and emotional, and I'm not going to talk about it because Moony reads this and she hasn't seen it yet. But Coulson was a complete wreck from beginning to end. Literally. It was a bit endearing, really. We were all screaming, shouting and pointing at the screen. I despair for anyone living in surrounding houses.

I feel like I have important things to say, but I don't really.

I'm two exams down, three to go. Two Critical Thinking exams that I should be revising for, and an English exam that I rock at. I don't need to revise that much because English is something I'm fairly good at.

Now we're chilling out on the couch, with Coulson and my mate playing Black Ops - Coulson is badass, as expected from the name - and I'm tumbling/reading Autostraddle/writing this. It's a nice friendship we have here, and something I've come to appreciate.

I'm beginning to feel a little wary about my exams, though. Not the ones to come, the ones that have already been. I am going to move to Uni no matter what grade I get, but if I'm not able to get into Brighton I don't know what I'm going to do.

I have 99 problems and right now Literature is a lot of them.

I have an exam tomorrow in Literature and I'm scared. I'm scared because sure, I know how to get the grades now, but I don't know how to learn the quotes. I need to be able to cover a lot of themes but I'll only end up using one. I need to write efficiently about Carol Ann Duffy poems so I need to know the poems well enough to look at the blank copy on my desk and work from it. I got a C and a D in the two halves of my mock, and my mate says you always do better in the real thing, but I'm still wary.

I've hardly eaten my dinner because I'm not hungry, I've watched Peter Pan Return To Neverland, drawn me and my mate Ivan as Lost Boys, and listened to most of Hank Green's music since I got home at 1pm, and revised a bit, but I should have spent it all revising. I also planned Ivan's birthday/whatever present, but he isn't allowed to know what it is and I don't know if he ever sees this page.

The problem is that I feel helpless whenever I do because I realise how much there is to know.

But this time tomorrow no more Literature AS level. So that's something.

And Supernatural is to be watched as soon as Moony gets home again, since we always watch together. I can't go on tumblr until I watch it. It's the finale, and I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for the emotional onslaught I'll undoubtedly get, but I'd rather have pain from characters than my actual life.

Killing monsters, hunting things... The family business.

I'm starting to really appreciate the lives of Sam and Dean Winchester.

They have everything they need in one place. They don't have to worry about exams - well, Sam did until Dean pulled him out - or any of the normal crap that most people do. Everything they own is in that car or in storage and they only have the minimum. They get by through swiping credit cards and all the hunters keep in contact with each other like some sort of underground community.

Maybe they didn't have an awesome upbringing, spending most of their lives stuck in low-budget hotel rooms while their dad goes hunting.

But they managed, and they're incredibly close. They joke around, tease each other and have arguments, but they will always fight to the death for each other. And have, pretty much every season.

Their dad didn't always understand them, and it was down to Dean to keep Sam safe, but they managed it, they're still managing it.

The complete lack of attachment  is something I would love to have. Just driving and moving from county to county to do what they know is right. Yet here I am, trapped within my house with a group of people that do not understand me at all, and miss the fundamental basics of caring for the youngest in the family.

I got a lecture about why facebook may be worth my time, from my brother, and he started it with using my given name in a patronising tone. I told Moony about it and she suggested I tell him he isn't allowed to call me that. But it's still legal and that's how my family operates. I said that what's important to one person is easily forgotten by another, and the reply of 'not when it's your family' hurt in such a way I hadn't expected. It's not Moony that hurt, rather the realisation of how dysfunctional my family is, and they aren't even aware of it.

But Dean and Sam, they have their family. Bobby says 'family don't end with blood', and I've covered that before, but it's so true. They meet most of their blood relatives through hunting, but there's also Bobby, who was like a dad to them, and Garth, the annoying little brother. And Cas. Lost, falling, angelic, too-much-heart Castiel.

Their life is fucked up, I'll admit it. And it's so dangerous that they've all died, mostly more than once, apart from the Ghostfacers, for some reason (Ghost-- Ghostfacers! are my favourite characters aside from Sam, Cas, Dean and Crowley. They're useless amateurs trying to be hunters but their naive enthusiasm is endearing). But it's also fun, in some ways. They're free to take time off, and to mess around and just be themselves. It's often stressful, but they don't have to go through anything alone, and they're understood by each other. So long as they're willing to talk about their freaking feelings.

Really, they're just two brothers keeping each other going. If I could have that with Moony, I don't think I'd ever want anything else. We wouldn't hunt much, because I don't want either of us to die any time soon, but it would be a hell of an adventure.

I've always been that kid that stares at the horizon and thinks about how amazing it would be to chase it with wind in the sails of the old galleon I was crew of, or something. So it's no wonder, really, that I still dream of it.

Sam and Dean would probably flip if they knew I wanted their life, or willingly give it up. But life-and-death-but-mostly-death aside, it's a pretty sweet set-up they've got.

Wearing Thin.

I said a while ago that I was amazed I hadn’t had a breakdown yet, considering how everything feels like it’s pressing in from all directions. Yesterday was nearly that day.

I got a B in half of my English Language mock, and a C+ in half of my English Literature mock. Normally, I’d be entirely thrilled about this, and knowing I got comfortably high As in my coursework means that my Lit would have been pushed up to a B, probably.

But for some reason it really got to me, and threw me off my guard. We practiced exam questions and I was so unsure of myself that I couldn’t do it. I nearly started crying several times even though I knew it was pointless.

I’ve started watching Supernatural when I feel like I need to calm down my senses, and I got a load of food to stock up on during my revision. The problem is still actually getting myself to revise.

The complete fear of not getting the grades I need are stopping me wanting to have anything to do with them. I absolutely need to get a B grade in Critical Thinking, but I have no idea if I’ll even be able to manage that. I’m starting to get the hang of terminology now, but there’s no way of knowing if I’ll get a good mark.

The stupid Government have made it so that as of next year, students are unable to retake exams, meaning we’ll all be stuck with whatever grade we got the first time around. For many students, that is actually going to signal the end of their educated dreams, if they have one bad day.

Small things are starting to annoy me again, as they did a while ago. Being asked to wash up when I had nothing to do with any of the plates or cups in the sink made me want to give up on everything. I get easily hurt by comments friends say, even though I know that’s just their style of things, and I’m so tired all of the time.

It’s been five weeks since my last therapy appointment, and I really think I need one, so despite a change in the system that means my appointments are starting to cost £5 now, and I have to organise a contract that I need to be there in person for. This means I won’t be able to sign it until the 28^th, when I can next get to Group and have an appointment, and it will have been nearly two months.

It’s all part of a new system in an attempt to achieve charity status and be funded that way. I can understand what’s going on, but I miss the old system that was a lot easier and I could get to better. Right now, I could really do with some counselling. The appointment is on the other side of my exams, and that’s what’s got me so stressed out at the moment.

I’m beginning to appreciate the small things I have that are worth my time to feel good. Crappy horror films and brilliantly written books still capture my interests, and every time I hear my name I get a wonderful feeling of belonging. So that’s something.

May The Fourth and other thoughts.

I opened this page with no idea what I'm actually going to write. So we'll see what happens.

Yesterday I spent my time watching Star Wars, four out of the six films because we got too tired to continue. I watched them with two mates, one of their girlfriends and another guy with a cool name who decided my name is David, due to the scratched name on my lightsaber from the previous owner.

We took a break between Clone Wars and Revenge Of The Sith to battle. My saber is the one Anakin is holding.

I felt accepted, I thought I was passing. It was amazing. I actually nearly started crying in the bathroom because I was so overwhelmed. But by the end of the evening I realised I wasn't. The cool-named guy had been informed of my transition, but was wonderful enough to not actually care. He still made male-anatomy based jokes that I was allowed to joke with, and it didn't feel awkward. It was mentioned that my friend's girlfriend must feel awkward spending the night with a group of guys, and she said it's totally fine. To be honest, she's definitely not a stereotypical female anyway. Her personality is like that of a young teen boy, all innuendo and immaturity. The two of them are perfect for each other.

Despite my metaphorical cover being blown, it was an awesome night. 

Chase put up a video about his anxiety yesterday towards top surgery, and I've never watched a video of his that was so true to my thoughts. I'm really scared of starting T.

It's years away, and I haven't even changed my name yet, but I know I'm going to do it. I need to. And then I'm going to be doing it regularly for the rest of my life.

Being that dependant on something just in a little vile, and needing it to become the person I know myself to be... I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready for that.

Is The World Strange Or Am I Strange?

Last night a good friend of mine had a minor identity crisis.

I won't bother with names, but people who know me may be able to work it out. So please, don't mention it if we meet each other in the real world, unless you know you can.

So this friend consoled in me that they wish they were straight. That they hate that they aren't and they'd never admitted it before, but they really do. I joked that I'm trans*, I know what it's like to hate who you are. But you get over it. Hell, you can't choose who you want to sleep with, and it doesn't really change who you are as a person. They said they wanted to go to a camp in America where they make you normal again.

I walked my friend home because I was sober and they weren't, and they said I'm wonderful, and really good to do this, even though they could make it home alright. We negotiated and I ended up walking mostly all the way.

But as if all that heartbreaking stuff wasn't enough. They said they don't want me out at night because 'you're different, like I am. And that means you can get hurt too.'

What I'm trying to get at is that we're just kids. We're on the cusp of hitting 17 but we're so very aware of the dangers of being who we are. My mate was buying roses for his grandmother and the woman behind the till asked if they were for his boyfriend. We were both called 'girls' by our librarian the other day. Not to mention the stories we hear of LGBT* kids being beaten or worse just because of their orientation or lifestyle. I don't need to build myself up to Boys Don't Cry to know the true story behind it.

Kids shouldn't have to watch behind their backs as they walk back to their house after being sure their drunk friend is safely home, because they promised not to get beaten up and they don't want to mess this promise up. I'm always so adamant that I can be a mature adult, but the truth is that I'm nothing more than a kid with a binder and a constant identity crisis.

I'm not usually this pessimistic, I intend to bounce back tomorrow during my Star Wars marathon to celebrate May Fourth, so the general business of complaining about school and other dull things will resume shortly.