An Open Book

I know that I never really talk about anything that I feel is wrong with my life in blog posts.

It seems a little narcissistic to complain about my life when I know there are plenty of LGBT+ folks who’ve had it so much worse than an unsupportive ‘friend’ and insensitive parents.

So, I want to be a sort of role model for those folks to live their best lives and be themselves whenever they can, and I hope that they can do exactly that, because heaven knows all I need is to buy a dress and shave daily to live a significant portion of that life I want to live.

But it still exists, and at the risk of sounding whiny, I feel like complaining, because my anxiety’s getting worse.

First off, I have ASD of the Asperger’s variety, and it comes with a whole lot of AD/HD. Because I have a tendency to space out, not pay attention, and absentmindedly doodle in my notebooks in class when I’m bored, I take a medication for it.

This isn’t really a problem, but I recently upped the dosage, and it’s giving me so much anxiety in the morning and afternoon. Constantly worried about what other people think of the loner with the awkward feminine mannerisms when I don’t present female at all (and my facial structure is too masculine for me to do that effectively, angrily enough).

Also, my school doesn’t really care about people violating gender roles, as I’ve learned this last week (I’ve been wearing nail polish, and literally one person has mentioned it at all, and it was a complement). Which is a fantastic thing, but I selfishly dislike it a little because of that.

Next, while my boyfriend is absolutely amazing and I love him so much, it’s also a long-distance relationship, which can make communication difficult. I’m not the best with words, so it can get infuriating when I can’t think of anything to say.

But that being said, he’s really helped me feel good about myself, and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else right now.

Then there’s also the issue of the insensitive parents. They aren’t anti-LGBT+. I know it’s hard to shake your roots, and they at least try. They’re receptive to when I correct them on things, too.

They just don’t always know how their words might affect me when they say them. It can hurt sometimes, and it doesn’t always feel good to talk about it.

They aren’t my grandparents though, so there’s that (my grandma has derided a boy’s hair for being too long and girlish, not even trans, just his hair). But, it could always be better.

If I end up with any kids, I’m going to try and raise them how I wanted to be raised.

I’m also worried that I won’t be able to undergo harmone treatment to beat out my 18th birthday when my body will become even more masculine due to a second puberty. My body dysmorphia isn’t bad right now, but I know it will be soon.

And that’s the problem, because my dysmorphia and dysphoria are relatively minor right now (except in cases where I watch like F1NN5TER and break down because I wish I looked like that, and he’s not even trans), I can’t get easily diagnosed with it. So, I can only hope that I can manage to find something out before I have another absolute panic attack and completely crack. Not in the nice r/Egg_irl way either, finding out you’re trans, but the complete and utter breakdown of the stoic psyche I put up to dull my emotions and give my jaded thoughts some merit.

And I’m a completely useless member of society and don’t have a job, because absolutely nothing appeals to me, even though I think I’d make a good waitress, I can’t motivate myself to apply for anything, even though everyone has an open slot right now.

But even still, these are all problems that would seem like a dream to someone living in a country that shoots their trans people, or a country where work is sparse and neigh-unattainable, or someone who wants a partner but doesn’t have one. So, I don’t complain. I don’t want to play the world’s smallest violin.

But I want to make something out of it. Somehow.

I’ve decided to start a new story series on my profile, I don’t know when they’ll all be released, or if there’ll even be a cutoff. But, I want to share my stories.

The first story is already finished, expect a little cleanup and for the voting on the current QnS contest to close.

It’s called Raining.

I have dumped my soul into the story, and I hope that it actually means something to everyone who reads it.

And until next time; be awesome.
-Dashie

Comments

[Themaskedferret]

Just because other people have it worse doesn't mean your problems don't matter and can't hurt you.

You're important and your feelings matter, no matter what.