Am I Transgender or Lesbian

Off Track

This chapter is going to be kind of off track from the gender identity issues I've been speaking about until now.

And it's about how tired I am.
How little energy I have to deal.

And how I wish I could disappear.
Boy, do I wish.

It's not that I have an inclination towards self harm, (I mean, I do, but I ignore it {been there done that}), I'm just so exhausted. So tired of living.

I'm not going to kill myself, though I'd dearly love to. And I'm not expressing what I feel for the sake of attention or as a cry for help, not at all (not that there's anything wrong with that), but purely for sake of my sanity, or lack of.

I hate living at home. So much.
I have both a mother and a father, two sisters, and five brothers. Of my huge family, both parents, both sisters, and two of my brothers live at home. This wouldn't be an issue if my brother didn't raise living hell.

He's a....problematic kid. He's 12, a raving lunatic, completely self obsessed, egotistical, apathetic to others emotions, unheld by authority, and spoiled beyond belief. He isn't stable, he has ADHD and multiple other behavioral issues, and he's slowly killing me, and my family.

Yes, I know he's only 12. I couldn't care less. He's a monster. Cold and uncaring, impatient, paranoid,  skeptical of everyone and everything, unimaginably selfish, cruel, illogical, capable of inflicting pain without remorse. I could swear that the kid is a psychopath. I write this not out of anger, but out of belief that this is what he is.

He makes life a misery. Does whatever he wants, gets whatever he wants, speaks however he chooses and treats anyone the way he wants without punishment and only light reprimandment without any enforced consequence.

Imagine me sitting quietly on the couch and him walzting in, already giggling in gleefullness, knowing that I have no power to stop him, and he pours water over me, "just because" "why not" "shut your mouth" "be quiet" "did I ask you" all typical responses I'll get if I ask him why he did that.

Imagine me standing and minding my own business perfectly, and he strides over to me and begins hitting me but I can't do a single thing in return. Not any kind of defense, and if I even try to move he'll turn the tables on me and I'll get in trouble so I can't do anything at all. And while I'm standing helplessly while getting punched at, my mother is sitting right there and because I'm aren't in her line of vision, nothing happened. If she didn't see it, she won't believe it. Or she'll believe it but then start screaming at me that "He's a difficult child, do you think I don't know that? Stop provoking him, it's your fault. I have enough issues without you coming to me to tell me of every little thing he did." And if I mildly defended myself from the grand bastard? Then she starts screaming instead about how I shouldn't fight back but I should instead go to her if there is an issue. And if I do go to her when there is an issue? Etc etc. The cycle goes on and on and on and on. And it is tearing me apart and I just can't take it.

If it was just one thing like this, then it wouldn't set me off. But so many things that happen and also having to deal with my own stupid mind all the time does not help in the least bit. It's always been like this. That whenever my mental state is mildly okay, my family rips it right back to where it began. And I can't ever properly heal.

I can't afford to move out, so I can't go anywhere. My mother is super overprotective and doesn't trust me with anything. So rarely can I go out the house. So except for going to college and occasionally to my dad's store to bring him lunch, I cannot leave the house.
I'm a damn prisoner, and I hate how familiar the weight of the shackles have become.
On the rare occasion that I can leave, my mother gets visibly and physically agitated when I ask. And it is like I never really truly leave the house even when I'm out because she always asks about every detail, who I'm going to, who I'm with, what time with I leave and be back, to be in touch every half and hour, the exact address, who the parents are, where I know the person from, what we'll be doing, etc. She's incredibly mistrusting and paranoid. Then she wonders where I get it from.

I just needed to vent I guess. It's been a really long day and it doesn't get any easier. I'm sorry for crashing these thoughts on screen. Hopefully I'll be back with some good news or a better mindset next time.