Tina's not-so-secret diary 📓🔓

[02:17] Well, the progesterone is definitely working as advertised. I'm horny a lot more now, but like, it's not constantly horny. I can go for a day or 2 without any sexual desire at all, and then all of a sudden, i'm cumming 3 times a day for the next 3 days. At least i don't need to worry about penile atrophy anymore! I imagine it'll take the better part of a year to see any development in my boobs or booty, though; but it's like I said once: gender transitioning isn't a race. It may take a little longer to get the results I want because I was 33 when I started, but F-cup boobs run in my family, so hey.

[05:30] My jogger thighs are gone. Can't tell i had them at all now. This is the longest I've gone without taking walks in the morning since last August. I don't think I'd even be able to get around the university at this point. I can feel it in other parts of me, too. The strength has been drained away from my knees, my heart flutters when i climb the staircase at normal speed, my calves feel like tree roots, my feet feel like clay. Not being able to see the moon or breathe in the cool morning air a mile away from my home has depleted my enthusiasm for living to an absolute minimum. I pretended like I could run the stairs and that would be good enough. But it isn't. It's the difference between orange juice and Kool-aid. This isn't just about fitness, it's about wanting to wake up every morning, put on an '80s playlist, and rush out the door to see what was going on in the neighbourhood. It's a small neighbourhood, but not secluded enough to ensure my safety if the ICE-Schutzstaffel drives up. 10 years ago, this would have been conspiracy theory, but it isn't 10 years ago anymore and it does happen, and it is happening, and no one ever talks about it unless you're a student or an activist. I'm the type who can just vanish without anyone ever noticing, even if I would ever return, people would be like "who the fuck is that?"

[17:22] "But, Tina, you wouldn't be arrested, you're white!" I'm also an enemy of the state. Haven't you heard? Transfems all preach corrupting Jewis-- er, I mean, gender ideologies to corrupt our children and burn down our country! Haven't you heard a word I've said? It doesn't matter what colour you are. It doesn't matter what political party you belong to, or how rich you are, or where you live. Don't you get it? Donald Trump gets up in the morning and goes over to his computer where he asks the GPT3 implementation that Elon replaced the Department of Homeland Security with for a list of people he can deport today. Oh, sure, the first 14 names are people who live in Talinn, Estonia; the next 25 are dead people, and the 8 after that never existed in any census records since time began, but the rest are genuine US residents. You're no safer than I am.

[15:18] Weird red spot on my left boob, like I'd been compressing it somehow. It wasn't itchy or sore in any way. Checked for lumps, couldn't find any. Red spot went away. Weird.

[15:00] I watched Bob's Burgers 7.13-"The Grand Mama-pest Hotel" last night and, like. Linda got kicked out of the hotel, and Dillon was not about to let her mum into the room. Dillon and Tina were completely alone for 10 hours and ran no risk of anyone coming in without permission. I have absolutely no reason to believe that they didn't sleep together. Not "sleep together" as in "have sex", because they're 13, but as in "sleep in the same bed". Dillon was doing tarot before Linda came to visit, so they went back to the room, Dillon draws The Lovers, looks over at Tina, and says "hey, you know what we could do?" Tina was probably the big spoon.

April 20 2025

[15:48] So, uh... the girl downstairs already had the baby? I guess I'm not as good at clocking pregnant women as I thought. I could have sworn she wasn't due until August or September but, uh... like, she and Generic Boy came out of the house with a covered-up baby carrier. She sure didn't get very big, considering she was already about 30 weeks when she moved in, and she was carrying boxes and shit into the house. If I hadn't been downstairs getting the post at the time and held the door open for her, I would have missed the fact that she was pregnant altogether. You know what, this happened before too, didn't it? Back in 2022. Is there something that's lowering birth weights these days? My mum tells me I weighed something like 4 kg and the doctor was worried that I was too heavy. I don't know. I guess I can stop feeling inadequate now, because the social services only lets people stay in that flat for 3 months after the baby is born, so... yeah. Also, the social services isn't going away because of Elon and the Funny Bunch; it's a privately-funded charity organisation. They receive a small amount of funding from the state DHHS, but most of their funding comes from donations and bequests. Anyway, it's helpful that I have 1 less thing to worry about, especially considering the military dictatorship and everything.

April 18 2025

[15:17] I found out today that my other cousins are both pregnant again. The older one is having her 4th set of twins, the younger one is just having her 4th singleton. I'm asking myself, do I care anymore? I've been jealous of them for so long that my acid indigestion turned to pumice years ago. If I seriously wanted to have that big family I always wanted, I should have converted to Catholicism and fucked the first girl who presented herself. I would be dreadfully unhappy and locked into an empty existence because everyone with authority over me agreed that I can't kill myself or I'll go straight to Hell, but at least I'd have kids! That feels like an inequitable agreement. But for the love of god, 8 kids! She's married to a goddamn Fed and she's got 8 kids with him. She's 28 and she has 8 kids! She pushed her first twins out when she was 20. Not even old enough to drink or hold public office, but old enough to have fucking twins apparently. What was I doing when I was 20? Failing out of community college and playing Super Smash Bros. Brawl all the damn time. I guess I'm trying to make myself care where I don't. I genuinely don't care about them anymore. Like I said once, she's a wine-and-liquor mom now because her Catholic husband uses her as a sex toy. I'm surprised both of my cousins don't have like dozens of kids right now. Maybe it's just the progesterone, but I'm feeling remarkably indifferent about this information right now. Under ordinary circumstances, I'd be accusing myself of trying to make myself believe I don't care when really I do, but I really don't.

[08:46] I didn't get enough sleep. Really I should still be sleeping right now, but it's like 80°F in my room right now and I had a dream at about 6 that seemed absolutely real. I don't want to talk about it in great detail because, once I forget what it was about, I don't want to be reminded. All I'll say is, I woke up back into reality and said "fuck.. of COURSE it was a dream". Then I started to feel incredibly old. I couldn't deal with that anymore, so I got up. That was about 15 mins ago. Does any other USAmerican feel like they've aged 20 years in the past 4 months, or is that just me?

[09:23] I'm so tired of this godforsaken anal-fissure. The medicine I need to cure it costs $200, the insurance doesn't cover it, so I'm stuck using time and Vaseline. Incidentally, did you know that you can apply Vaseline to an anal-fissure using a dildo? I wouldn't recommend it, but you can!

[21:43] Now that Trump has disregarded the García ruling, I don't feel safe enough to go outside for walks anymore. I'll put the same thing onto my walking journal. Until either Trump is removed from office or the country destroys itself, I will be taking no more walks around my neighbourhood. My health will deteriorate and I'll die, but that's the point isn't it? Of course, I'm not really worried about myself. I'm worried for all the people with Latino names, all the people who take their phones with them to protests, leaders of socialist guilds, people who Trump feels are a direct challenge to his authority.

[10:48] The progesterone appears to be doing something. It's getting harder to cum silently anymore, in amongst various other esoteric things.

[17:39] I keep forgetting, this is a website. People read what I write. I'm reaching people for the first time since I quit making fonts. I accidentally scared a friend with my last entry, and I can understand how. It's pretty dark. But I never thought anyone would even find it, since I deleted yesterday's news event from my Neocities dashboard after I found out it had published my prototype "content purge" homepage which I didn't want anyone to see. I deleted that page, too, because I'm not going to shut my site down. But, the fact is, I had given her cause to worry about what I would do next. She already bore witness to the suicide of a friend, albeit after the fact, and she didn't want to have to read about another one. She wrote a blog post, in vagaries, about being worried for the wellbeing of a friend, which I read this morning and immediately thought "oh no, this is bad, I need to get into my email and ask her if she needs to talk," so I logged in there to find several messages from her, asking if I was okay and how I was doing, hoping I hadn't killed myself. I gasped and cried. The friend she was worried about was me. She was worried about me. Yes, I gave her cause to worry, but this is the first time in my life that anyone has cared about me enough to reach out. With the exception of my mum, none of my family would much care if I died. I'd be a subject of discussion for an afternoon before being forgotten altogether. Part of the reason why I ended my last entry so abruptly was that, so far, I've been able to at least provide my friend with advice and encouragement since her life is basically getting turned upside down. But, that morning, I had just read an article about a federal investigation that would end trans women's legal right to use a public restroom and play any kind of intercollegiate sport. I saw that as paving the way for pushing trans women out of public life completely; first, denying us the right to go to any college or university, then workplaces, apartments, bank accounts, and home ownership. I'd launched into an imagined future as I typically do with all my existential crises, where trans women either detransition or die, and I suddenly realised that I had no more ideas, no more encouragement to offer, no more words to say that hadn't been said a million times before. I felt like a failure. I said it, "I can't even write anymore." I had written an email draft where I basically took a 180° turn and admitted defeat, encouraging her to do the same and detransition to keep herself safe from society. If I sent that email in its present form, I felt that would play a deciding factor in her own decision to kill herself and I would have her blood on my hands. I was getting a sour stomach from this, I cried about it like you wouldn't believe, and deleted that draft before I could accidentally send it. The only reason I mention this at all is because it's an ironic reversal. My frustration at having no more ideas and worry that she might kill herself caused me to write a diary entry that, in turn, caused her to worry about me killing myself. It may seem ironic to me now, but the fact that she was worried about me so much, apart from being so sweet and touching, also made me feel guilty as all hell. That's not the way this is supposed to work! I'm the one who should be worried about her, not the other way around! The problem here— the single common denominator— is suicide. If we can all make a pact to not kill ourselves, no matter how hard it gets, and I'll make a promise not to talk about my suicidal thoughts anymore, it'll make everything a lot easier. There are enough things to worry about without having to worry about waking up one day to a suicide note left in an unlinked diary page for no one to find. I'm so sorry for making my momentary despair into somebody else's problem.

[08:53] It's getting harder not to kill myself. There's only so much pressure you can put someone under before they crack, and I'm reaching my limit. It's hollow comfort to know that most people are not trans-hating fascists, especially when every single policymaker is. When you hear top federal decisionmakers using Third Reich terminology, substituting "Jewish" with "gender", it's hard not to make some hard realisations about where we've come from and how we got here. I can't even write anymore.

[07:19] Last night, I wanted so much to give you a big plate of pasta (I made penne alfredo), hold your hands, and reassure you everything will be okay. I can't make that assurance with certainty, but no one ever encourages you and that can wear a person down. Getting a steady stream of denigration and abuse from people society tells you to love unconditionally while the people behind the curtains move the money around to make sure you stay where you are. I can't give you the moon, but that doesn't mean we can't look at it together. As I read your messages, I can feel your stress, your frustration, your pain, and I want so much to hug you and have you release all that anguish as tears on my shoulder. So often do I want to just leap into my car, drive across the country, and take you safely away from those horrible people at my own expense. You deserve everything the world has to offer, they deserve nothing; if they thought they were deserving of anything, it's deliverance from my wrath as I position my car to run them down. I'm sorry I can't do any of this, or even the least of this. But, if all I can offer is an encouraging block of text everyday, then that's what I will do.

Penne Alfredo
Combine 1 cup water and 1 cup milk in a large saucepan and bring to a fast simmer over medium heat.
Add 1/2 tbsp salt, 3 cups dry penne rigate pasta, and 1 tsp dried oregano. If desired, also add 1 finely chopped scallion. Stir to mix. Reduce heat to medium low and simmer pasta 12-15 minutes or until desired tenderness is reached. Do not cover the saucepan at any time.
When done, remove from heat and add 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese to the saucepan. Stir until cheese is melted. Add 2 tsp butter and stir until butter is melted. Serve immediately, refrigerating any unused portion. Serves 4.

[23:55] I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't stand by and tell myself that sympathy is futile. It's too much. It's just too much. At last, I had to say something. Maybe what I had to say will be dismissed out of hand. Maybe I'll be ridiculed for it. But maybe it will end up being just what they needed to put the knife back in the butcher-block and not kill themself today. I can't stand by and watch you suffer anymore, even though you might want me to. You don't think you're a good person, but I do. You think you're being superficial by being nice to people, I don't. You think you're worthless, I know you're not. I hope I'm not the only one telling you this. I'm just a rando from the internet sites, I can't reach through the screen and hold your hand. I hope there's someone on your side who can do that while telling you everything I just did, and I hope you can believe them more readily than you can believe me.

[00:56] I took my first dose of progesterone tonight. I was going to wait until September, but too many things are happening right now and I decided I can't wait anymore.

[15:52] I've only had one progesterone pill so far. My boobs already feel heavier. I'm going to say that means it's working. So soon though?