Lost in Void: Daily Initiation through Gender Transition, Dying Cats, and the Endless Search for the Authentic Self

2018 has felt like an eternity. I’m all too happy for it to be finally winding down. It’s been one hell of a year. A lot of my posts here have been especially vague in 2018, but I’d like to clear the air a bit. At times I’ve felt like I’ve been having a midlife crisis but it’s probably better described as a paradigm shift. My life has changed and continues to change and shift away from the everyday predictable slog that it was since the end of 2015.

I’m tired of suppressing my expression. The end of this year is about tying up loose ends. It’s about finishing the things I started and refining the details that need to be fully realized.

I’ve spent a considerable amount of time in 2018 in the investigation of the tarot. I came into the practice with almost no prior knowledge. I’ve brought the tarot into my everyday life and have had a lot of success reading for others. I’ve been feeling jilted by the practice as of late, however. I need to be more aggressive in setting the expectation that always reading for free is not okay. Exerting 110% of myself into a reading and receiving nothing in return for the energy involved in facilitating the space that a reading takes place in isn’t fair to me.

There’s been a lot of heartache in 2018. My cats are my babies. And I had one of my beloved babies, Luna, die in April. This was rough. Luna’s health deteriorated quickly during the last three or four days of her life. I remember taking a nap with her the day before she died. She spent that night sleeping at my feet. Whilst eating shrimp and trying to watch an episode of Aggretsuko, one of our other cats, Loki, chased her into the bedroom. A short time later Luna violently sneezed and dropped dead on my copy of Peter Mark Adams’s “The Game of Saturn.” It was all surreal and odd. We cried a lot. We both made sure to honor little Luna with a proper send off. I memorialized her in a magical ceremony paying thanks to everything she represented to me and the life I shared with her. I placed the Strength card from the Black Flame Tarot on my altar to leave a door open for Luna to access while she navigated her way towards whatever was next for her. For a few days there was lots of head shaving, candle lightning, offerings, and an overall airing of grief.

In August, we decided to get a kitten to make our house feel “whole” again with three cats. Arciela’s arrival into our lives was especially difficult in what should’ve been a happy beginning. She not only went through a bad spay while she lived at the local cat shelter, but had become sick with some kind of bug. She wouldn’t move or eat for over a week. We ended up taking her to the vet eight times in a period of five days. She was undoubtedly dying. The vet even gave us a time table for how long she had. This absolutely broke our hearts. It seemed like there was nothing we could do about it either. Since she was so little and frail we kept her locked away in my ritual laboratory to keep her from the older cats. My husband spent four or five sleepless nights with her in an effort to monitor her progress. We took turns sitting with her for three and four hours at a time. The social interaction appeared to be helping slightly. She still wasn’t eating. On August 24th, I performed my annual Isadora working. During the course of my working, Arciela got up from her red chair and began to eat a little bit of her food. I called my husband in from the other room and continued speaking the words. She started to drink some water. We both started to cry. Things were going to turn around.

A very happy Arciela.

This year, I took a step back from streaming games. Streaming stressed me out a lot last year. When I streamed, I felt like I couldn’t play the games I wanted to play. I felt like I had to pander to my audience, whom I do both love and respect, but it wasn’t fun playing a game I didn’t want to play in order to satisfy the entertainment needs of other people.

Which brings me to my next thought…I’ve tried my whole adult life to break into the entertainment industry. To me, getting that big break has always felt like the one true answer. Die fucking Antwoord. I always thought that breaking into the entertainment world would bring me one step closer towards removing myself from the insurmountable slog of the corporate life. I’ve produced albums. Art. I’ve put myself on display for others to gawk at like some kind of gorilla in a cage. None of it feels authentic it in the way that I originally intended. And you know what? That’s okay. At least I’m coming to the realization that I probably don’t have what it takes to make it in that world. There’s more to life than making it as an entertainer. Besides, that life is no easier than the one I’m currently living.

My thirteen year foray my gender transition continues. I’m confident that no matter how far along the path I go the process will never end. It’s exactly like initiation. Full disclosure, it is initiation. This year has been brutal on the pocketbook as I prepare for GRS in the coming year. Electrolysis in my surgery area has been the fucking worst. I can’t even begin to describe the medieval inquisition style pain that comes with clearing hair from that area of the body. I’ve made it through month after month like a stormtrooper of death. There’s been lots of teeth grinding and blood spilled in the name of finishing what I started a lifetime ago.

When I compare my progress with other people who have gone through this transitioning process it’s very easy to become upset. In what’s taken me thirteen years to do, some have accomplished in two. I’ve never been a financially wealthy individual. My process has been a struggle in that respect. Still, I get disheartened when I look at someone who has gone through “the perfect” transition over the course of a two year period and begin to ask myself—am I really doing this the right way? How did they “finish” their shit so quickly? The only way for me to keep perspective is to consider the irrefutable fact that my past self wanted exactly what I have today. I really would love to be that perfect 10/10 knockout with the perfect proportions, hair, and attitude. I never will live up to that though. I’m not cute. I’m not pretty. Nor will I ever be. But if I strip away all of the superficial bullshit I’ve obsessed over for over a decade the only thing that remains is me. I shouldn’t try to be anything but that, even if I’m aesthetically attracted towards a life in the other direction.

I’ve grown tired of trying to prove myself to anyone. I know what I’m worth. What I’m capable of. I know what I completely suck at. And above all, I know who and what I am. I’ve had awhile to figure these things out because I’ve been alone with my truth. I don’t have the time or energy to be alone with anyone else’s.

2018 has been a total bitch. But that’s okay. It has served a purpose in helping me to grow away from the things I don’t want to be.

Zazas Zazas Natsatnada Zazas.

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