...

Imagine for me two completely comorbid symptoms from two completely separate illnesses where each illness has treatment that would sabotage the other. I don't know if I have one, both, or none. I'm going nuts.

I can't afford therapy. No time, no money. I kinda black out and spend my money anyways so I can't really trust myself to save either. I wake up, I stare at a screen and journal for a few hours, I find out it's a weekend and that someone's going to come over before I black out, OR I find out it's a work day and all of a sudden I'm exhausted and about to fall asleep. Someone with a lesser amount of self control and DBT skills would have probably killed themselves by this point if they were in my position. Like, gotta say, I'm one as fuck with the Dao. All this weird shit? I'm like water. If I wasn't like water I'd shatter into a million pieces because I'm falling off of a cliff the moment I step out of bed. Water just finds a new way to flow after a fall from that height.

I think that my spirit is in awesome condition but my life is absolute hell. Not in a divine punishment kind of way, just an accidental configuration of unforeseen consequences. Like, first off, trigger warning I guess, I got traumatized like crazy when I was a little kid. A little kid isn't going to do anything that warrants that, I don't care what the fuck karma has to say about that. Whatever deity does that to a kid I will justifiably want to kill for the rest of my life. I showed up at the ER with groin pain with no memories of how I got it, some bald guy rubbed ultrasound jelly on my nuts, and I just kinda went back home and everybody else expected business as normal. I was 5 or 6 I think? That'll do it.

Now, the whole "I want to kill whatever God was willing to do that." thing might raise a few eyebrows. I can forgive it, sure, but I can also want to kill that fucker. I can accept the act for what it is, that the guy was just evil and that's just what evil people do, e thought e was doing something good. While accepting that I can also accept that probably the only way to stop that kind of thing from happening ever again is by killing the evil piece of shit. Either that or converting em to some other kind of way of life that doesn't result in that kind of thing ever happening again. Or putting em into a box where it's impossible for em to ever escape and cause pain. Sounds a lot like a coffin... I mean, if I can convert em to something less evil then I guess I'd prefer that. That would be cool I guess. I guess that makes it "I want to kill that piece of shit."*

Anyways, that's just another weird thing I just go "Ok I guess." and go on about my day whenever I encounter it. Not much frightens me by this point. I remember seeing that Boiled One Phenomena video and after that guy showed up in my dreams I tore him apart atom by atom and reshaped him into the form of a phallus before I grabbed it by the shaft and slammed it so hard on its nuts that they started to bleed before I locked it into a chest and kicked it deep into the ocean. It hasn't showed up in my dreams ever since, so that's nice. Among the things that I just kinda go "Ok then." it's having a boyfriend I spend my time with as a girl. Don't get me wrong, I love trans people. My boyfriend is trans, he's a short king, I love him so much, but I don't know if I'm trans or if I'm just a crazy person. Someone would need to write a college thesis on me to figure this shit out.

Genuinely, most of the time I'm just... not really anything. Nonbinary is too specific. Sometimes I guess I'll feel kinda nice being girly, wearing makeup and stuff, but there's also times where I kinda like feeling badass and manly. Like when people call me a hard working young man I really feel like I was respected there. I like stroking my 5 o'clock shadow on my chin as I'm thinking. Thing is, when my boyfriend comes over... just going off of the things I've written those nights it's pretty clear I think of myself as a girl. Every memory gets colored by how I currently think about myself in those moments, all the moments where things were dissonant... The moments I thought I was happy with myself are then turned into moments I was happy that I was being approved of... or something. Like I only thought I was happy but I really wasn't.

And every time, like clockwork, I turn around and I say this to myself over and over again that I'm not anything and I don't care. The freaky thing is that I keep on bringing up hormone therapy while I'm like that and my boyfriend has almost got me to call Planned Parenthood a few times when I was with him. I even scheduled a few appointments but I just kinda... made up excuses and said I forgot about it each time. Like I'm genuinely happy with the way my body looks, it's kinda toned somehow despite all the sweets I eat. I don't really know if I want tits. I'm just fine leaving the house without makeup on, I don't care. All my arm and leg hair is just stuff that's just... it's there, I don't care. And every time I say this it's just "YOU'RE IN DENIAL! YOU'RE IN DENIAL!" until I black out and figure out later that I agreed entirely. Just... fuck my life.

I have a compelling ass argument for why I'm just mentally ill and I don't care about societal standards of beauty. I know I shouldn't call myself a crazy person, that's rude to everyone else with the same stuff that I have, but it's practically the only way I'll let these kinds of words come out regarding myself. I can't not call myself a crazy person yet. It just doesn't work like that. Just... All that's worked so far has just been telling the people I was like that with "I'm genderfluid. Sometimes I'm this, and sometimes I'm that." but in reality it's like I flow even out of being fluid into being nothing. I. Literally. Just. Exist. I don't have any feelings about it most of the time. If I wake up with tits I guess that's just another weird thing I'll just be "Ok then." about.