I hate it so fucking much. I can't tell you what I'd give to be cis, to still support this community with everything I have because God knows they're hurting but to not have to experience that hurt. You have no clue what I'd do to not have to live with this. To be told every single day that this is a mental illness, that I'm sick in the head or some disgusting sexual predator. I have no interest in touching your loved ones in the bathroom or locker room, I just want to get in and out like everyone else. I just want to get in and out without reliving the nightmares I get over going to the fucking bathroom. I want to go to sleep every night without those nightmares, or worrying about having them again, because the worst thing about them is they're not nightmares for so many people— they're reality. Getting kicked, spit on, harassed, raped, killed, just for going to the bathroom, that's reality for too many people and I get nightmares because that could be me. I'm an unfortunately timed piss away from it and I'm fucking terrified.
I want to live without the emotional baggage. Living with depression is hard enough, but I will never be able to tell you how much this hurts on the inside. The dysphoria that tears you down day after day. Every time I look down, every time I take a shower, every time I pass a mirror, every time I speak, every time someone cracks a short joke, every time I accidentally sit too femininely. That sinking feeling you get in your stomach, where it feels like a bottomless pit. It feels like you're falling, and it feels like you might pass out sometimes because you're dizzy. That feeling when it stops too suddenly and you hit a brick wall, but you're somehow still sinking down and down. That feeling when your insides are caving in so all you can do is claw at your skin to try and get to them in some pitiful effort to mend the feeling. That feeling when something's just wrong and you can't figure out what it is until it hits you that its just everything. Everything is wrong. That feeling when you know, and it really sets in, everything's wrong, everything's always going to be wrong, and you will never be able to fix it. A self hatred that burns with an unmatchable fire, a flame that'll never die. A self hatred that causes you to claw at your skin even more because its not right, its just wrong. A self hatred that causes you to almost buy drugs that might be the hormones you need from some shady dealer, but either way this'll be over one way or another and that's all that matters. A self hatred that causes you to grab a kitchen knife and nearly cut off your breasts yourself because it'll be over one way or another. that's dysphoria, and it's everyday.
Every day I look around, and see that nobody else around me deals with it. nobody else around me feels what I feel. nobody else except a small percent of the population will understand why suicide rates for this community are so high (41%). I'm alone. I'm isolated in this battle with myself. despite having support from most of my loved ones, I am still alone.
I am completely and utterly alone.
