Fuck your reproduction

Sometimes people care what I think and ask me if I'm pro-life or pro-choice.  I am not fond of most children, but I believe that all children deserve the safest, happiest, most academically enriched lives possible.  What they do with their pathetic selves in adulthood is no longer my concern.  I also strongly believe that women should (MUST?!) have the right to choose what happens with their bodies, free from coercion, threats, etc.  That all said, where do I stand?  I am pro-responsibility: I am for people (both sides of the fertilization!) taking responsibility for their actions.  I am pro-accountability.

Tomorrow, I will be sterile for six weeks.  Yes, it was my willing decision.  My body has thanked me many times over for my endocrine leveling procedure.  With respect to me sticking things inside of me, I'm a virgin.  Or, at least, I was until they shoved a hand blender into my cooter and took away my ability to carry babies.  ::shrug::  I wrote a post about my pre-surgery mourning, and another one (I think?) about how surprised I was to have relatively no post-surgery mourning.  I had never planned on having children.  It doesn't mean that I didn't still consider the little potential living cells my own, er, brood.  But having never been graced with life, I really kinda consider them in the same field as ghosts.  (To be fair, the chemicals pumped through my body over the past few years have probably reduced the cells to little more than microscopic zombies, but I digress.)  Either way, they're gone.  And I'll never have children, and I love and hate this prospect equally.  I am at peace with it.

...or, at least, I was, until I found out that an ex-friend of mine is having an abortion this weekend.

Okay, let's break this down.  It's an ex-friend, so really, what right/obligation do I have to care about this person or what she does with her body?  She's the one having an abortion.  She's a girl, of course, and by virtue of my transition, I have forfeit the right to have almost ANY say in a woman's reproductive decisions.  She is able to have children, and I am not.  I had already expressed what I thought to be mourning over my inability to have children.  Do I feel like she is abusing her priviledge/right/ability?  Maybe.  Her first child was an accident that she's dealing with... her second?  Going to the hand blender.  Once is a mistake.  Twice is selfishness and carelessness.  (Really, do condoms/birth control not exist?)  How do I feel about this?  Strongly enough to mix a drink before sitting down to write a blog about it.  Do these two personal experiences change my position on abortion?  If anything, it helped me to clarify it.  And I mean this in the least misogynist/ignorant/whatever you want to call me way: I am pro-responsibility.  I AM ANTI-SELFISH, CARELESS FUCKEN WHORE.*  

There is a tiny mother inside of me that wants to adopt all the unwanted, aborted children of the world. She is, no doubt, very sad.  The rest of me just hates humanity a little more.  This ex-friend is not the only woman like this... my cousin had two babies within 12 months of each other by different dads, another a year or so earlier with another father... all between her 15th and 17th birthdays.  She's  a little older than I am with warrants for her arrest for various shady shit she's done.  Living with her as a mother is not fair to her children... and neither would be losing their lives before they even begun to live them.  And so, it's not about abortion, it's about fucking other people over.  

I'm sad.  I'm sad.  I'm sad.  I'm angry.

*No, I am not speaking about sex workers, but about people who intentionally sleep around for stupid reasons, like revenge, and don't use protection or anything.  People who would rather a few minutes of selfish pleasure and not think about the effects it has on others.

I've expressed on more than one occassion (why do I ALWAYS spell that word wrong?!) that I love blogs because it is one place where it is socially acceptable to be as self-centered as the writer can.  Sure, people can write about whatever they want, even if the topic isn't particularly related to them... but ultimately, what the author chooses to write about, and how, are greatly a reflection of themselves.  We can't all be as impartial as Fox News.

I am writing because there are a few understandings I've had in the past couple of weeks that I want to record to read when I'm reincarnated.  Remember two posts ago I expressed my fear and sadness over not being able to have children anymore?  Exactly one day after the surgery, I surprised myself by feeling the exact opposite-- knowing that I could not have children made me feel freer than I ever would have thought.  I sometimes play brain games with myself, "What if...." but come to the same conclusion.  I am by no means happy.  I never have been, I probably never will be, that's just my personality.  But learning about oneself can definitely create some feeling of peace, which is welcome.  In addition to that, I am becoming increasingly comfortable with the idea of never dating (or marrying, fucking, whatever) ANYONE ever.  After a particularly stressful situation with one individual (with all the stability of sand castles before the tide), I vowed that I would never compromise my mental security like that again.  So, no children, no significant other, life is GOOD!  I can focus on work, applying to grad school, paying off my loans, and reading.  3 years from now, I should have my masters, and 5 years from now I should have everything paid off.  After that, I'll be almost 31 and ready to start my life.  Maybe even a doctorate.

Eating is getting hard again.  So is waking up.  So is going to sleep.  I have to drug myself to sleep in the evenings, and pump myself full of caffeine to wake back up. I try to force down meals, but everything seems repulsive.  I'm exactly 5 pounds above my lowest weight (CW=136, LW=131).  I'm so sick because I want to eat normal, but am relishing being able to fit in my skinny jeans again.  The few times I do try to eat something, I eat just enough to get rid of the hunger pangs, and then feel guilty for sabotaging my weight loss.  Some kids today thought I was a teenager, which would be good were it not for the fact that pedophiles probably get the same pleasure for a different reason.  I hate getting old.  My goal is to weigh 125 for my birthday, which is in 2 months.

What the fuck am I even talking about?? Whoever said that stream of consciousness writing had any value was/is full of shit.  However, I did finish a draft rewrite of a research paper that was due forever ago.  Tomorrow I have a shit ton of work to do... may have to leave the house to get it done.  I am hungry.