I suppose I've got it good. I'm not the luckiest boy alive, but I've got friends and parents that accept me, which is more than some of my friends can say.
But you need to understand, my life isn't perfect. It's quite far from it really. I am Transgender. I have depression and anxiety and I am suicidal. Most days I wonder why I'm alive. Some days I wonder how easy it would be to well, stop being alive. My friends are nice to me.
The ones that stay, that is.
My best friends, (we will give people code names) S and E, are no longer allowed to talk to me. I have no way to contact them other than face to face, but they refuse to speak to me. I start to wonder if it really was my fault. My therapist says that it's just their bigot parents, but I'm starting to doubt it. My meds don't work yet, and I've had panic attacks the last three nights. Sometimes I doubt whether getting help is really worth it, if I'm even worth helping. I've got to go now, I suppose I'll write again.
Love,
Zak
YOU ARE READING
Some Thoughts About Life
Non-FictionI don't know what this is, except the ramblings of a confused teen. Also I think I might use it as a journal. *Trigger* I'm fucked up and I talk about it
