I decided I was going to put on a dress. My mom bought me one from the store, and, well… it was really pretty. Very me. Rolled up sleeves, a thin braided leather belt, and soft polyester cloth. Button up, with a collar. Still pretty damn feminine, though, of course. It is a dress. But I felt pretty, when I put it on. Not like a girl girl, though. I was still a guy, under the surface. If I’d had a binder (sports bra) on, I would’ve worn it all day and been fine. Better than now, at least. But I didn’t. It wouldn’t have fit under the cloth, would’ve showed. And it’s the fucking weekend, so my mom would’ve noticed. She always does, lately, when I dress the way I need to. So the weekends are constrained to girl days. This is killing me.
I know I’ve only really written not-so-great things about her. But the fact does remain that she was always there for me when I needed her. And when I reached out on Thursday, at a really low point in my head, she was there for me again, even though we hadn’t been best friends in years. Yeah, she was a Trump supporter in 2016 (no idea where she stands now)- and as a queer kid, that kinda rubbed me the wrong way- but to me, her actions and her behavior speak louder than whoever the hell she supports or the things she says she’s for or against.
I feel abstract. Like I’m floating, or something, like nothing’s real. I thought it would improve once i slept, but it hasn’t. I’m still out of it, and my head hurts, and im dizzy. what is wrong with me? I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve felt like this for a long time now, and it’s just sending me into a cycle of… of this.
Why the hell is it so bad this time around? I’ve been predominantly male for almost… I don’t even know. But I’m dealing with constant dysphoria now, and I don’t know if I can take it. Tomorrow. Until tomorrow. It’s the last day. Then I won’t need to hear she and her and all of those fucking words that are just wrong wrong wrong wrong and I know what everyone else sees but that isn’t me! I don’t hate myself, I hate the fact that I can’t ever be what I am. I’m not telling my family until I move out, save for maybe my sister, but- I just don’t know if I can deal with it. If this is one week of break, how the fuck is summer going to look?
It’s like whatever I do, Mateo is haunting my thoughts. I guess I did still have feelings for him. We weren’t going to work, that much I know. Being with him was a little stifling. I’d rather be in a relationship where we split the check on the first date. I’m just sad. I miss him. It was a good decision, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a little painful. Am I allowed to feel like that? It was my own doing. His feelings don’t invalidate mine, and vice versa.
Huge, huge thanks to the britchy one for nominating me! I'm really excited to be nominated for my second award ever. 🙂 She blogs recipes, and food things, as well as some life things. I highly recommend reading her stuff. Now, as per the rules, here are the rules: Thank the person who nominated you for... Continue Reading →
I feel like maybe cutting would be Gorilla glue. Keep me sane a little longer, enough to finish this damned project and the damned report that goes with it. Step up from duct tape, a little better- little longer lasting. I don’t think I’m at that point, yet, but I’m slowly tipping closer. I just wish I could focus. It might be dysphoria, it might be the concussion, I don’t flipping know. But I know that even the fact that I’m around people that love me, even the fact that I’m not as alone as I feel, doesn’t seem to be enough for me. I don’t know what to do.
I’ve been allergic to all nuts (except for pine nuts, whatever those are- I’ve never had them before) since I was tiny. But recently, I’ve been desensitized to almonds, thanks to a daily dose (starting very small, of course) of almond milk. It’s always been my mildest allergy. I’ve licked almond butter off of my fingers before, and had very mild reaction. But almond butter… that’s not almonds, straight up. And neither is almond milk. And almonds are what I’m afraid of.
I hate my brain. I’m unable to focus, and I just… I don’t feel like myself. I feel numb. That little current that’s under everything I do is gone again, and I need it. That’s the current that tells me I still have a shot at med school- that I even want to do med school in the first place. That’s the current that tells me who I am. I could think of more examples, but… I can’t. I don’t remember. My memory fucking sucks. I was digging in my school email earlier today, and I found this Google doc. It was me and this guy I know and knew from elementary school (one of my very few true friends from back then, I’d say, one of the few I never felt uncertain around). But the fucking rub is that I have no recollection of it. At all.