Moss and Mushrooms

It's hard to explain

A mixed chapter capturing different, often contrasting points of view.
TW: suicide, depression, SA

The way that you are
For a moment there is felt that this was something you didn't want to be.
This something you could not help but carry, and you knew that, but you spent so much time wishing you could put it down.
You wished people didn't know when they met you, you wished your voice sounded different, you wish you fit the standard.
You knew that to separate this from yourself would be to throw away so many parts of yourself, parts that you love, parts that are worth cherishing.
As time passes you come to accept that this is the way things are.
You talk in a way most people wouldn't, and maybe that's okay. You don't feel the same way many do and that's how it's supposed to be.

Mood swings
You feel as if everything has led up to this perfect and enchanting moment.
You don't believe you are going to be everything you want to be, you know you will.
You feel the sun shining on your skin and warming your soul.
You are everything you need to be, you have found what you are looking for.
You cannot imagine ever feeling melancholy when life is as beautiful as it is.
You feel a summer in your heart.
You wake up full of dread, you wish you didn't have to be a person. You wish you could sleep for thirty days, and you do.
Every moment is excruciating, every moment feels like wanting to kill your self a little bit more than you did the one before.
You wonder why you ever even try because it's not like you're going anywhere, it's not like you are going to find your way through this, you never do.
The cycle collapses in on itself, it replays endlessly.

How it lingers
You think about him every time you hear his unfortunately common name.
When you are home alone and you hear someone knock on the door you think it is him. You wonder if today will be the day he ends your life.
You think about all the rooms it happened in.
You want to talk about it, it lives in your mind so loudly, but you aren't sure when to undress yourself in such a way.
You feel ashamed for what you went through, the kind of shame that folds in on itself, but the kind of shame where you want to tell people you haven't spoken to in years.
Sometimes you feel like you are still waiting, you stare at the door wondering if he will come in tonight.
You have dreams about the rape quite often.
You hallucinate things that remind you of it every day.
You developed fragmented, you grew up in pieces.
Nights are always difficult because it was ingrained in you that this is what happens at night.
The stories play in your head to your detriment.
You feel guilty for what happened. You recognize the stigma of your experiences.
You know this is not normal, you always have.
It feels like there is a child who lives in the back of your mind who is still hurt and scared.
You feel disgusted. It is hard to understand that all of this coexists within one family and within one home.

Holding onto it
You don't know why you hold onto it.
You think about it every day, you often ruin a good moment by retreating into your mind and telling yourself the story again.
You want nothing but to heal, you want to move on, you want to get over it, yet you still find yourself letting it live in your mind.
You wish you understood why you do this but you don't.
You feel a little bit relieved when you are reminded of it, it's still there, it's still a heart pumping blood into every inch of your body.
You have the strange kind of shame that folds in on itself, you have the type of shame that wants to be seen and heard, somebody see me and believe that what I went through is bad enough.
See why I am the way I am. See that the pain I live with has a reason. See that I didn't want it. See that I tried hard enough to stop it.
Tell me it makes sense to still be impacted by what happened like a building is impacted by an airplane collision. Tell me it wasn't my fault. Tell me that I didn't do anything wrong. Tell me that you see what I lived through and know how painful it was.

Better man
I believe that if there is a god they created me to be exactly the way I am.
I was meant to grow up on the girls team but end up playing on the boys. I was meant to fight for my manhood.
I think my trans body is as it should be.
God wanted me to bind my chest. God wanted me to have to earn my voice. God wanted me to go through puberty twice.
I know what it is like to live as a woman, more than most do, and for that I am grateful, it makes me the man I am today.