misfortunate1

[misfortunate1]

(Warning: VERY long and heavy vent)

TW: mentions of self-harm, blood, and bodily mutilation

I'm gonna fucking cry.

The other day, my littlest baby sister (almost 3, basically non-verbal, shows lots of signs of autism) called me her big brother. I'm FtM and very closeted to my family, but I wear gender-neutral clothing. I was so happy I started crying, though one was around and I couldn't tell anyone that she spoke, because I wasn't afraid she'd repeat it and my family would correct her. I wanted that little bit of happiness.

Now I feel like shit. I feel like that triggered a whole "give a slice, want the whole cake" thing, because the little semblance of self-assurance I had is gone.

I'm skinny and have curves, and I hate that my mom wants me to dress feminine because she compliments my small waist and wide hips. I hate it. It used to not bother me as much, but now I can't stand it.

I hate that my hair can't be shorter than above my shoulders, I hate that I don't have a flat chest, I hate that I have menstrual cycles, and I have people referring to me as she/her.

I've been wearing tight sports bras since I was in 5th grade, when I first started growing a chest. It's been over 6 years, and the sports bras have been making red indentions on my skin after the first year. They're temporary, but it's been leaving blood marks on the inside of my shirts and sports bras (no open wounds). I know it's bad, and I know that the fact that I can't breathe when I run is bad, but I can't stop. I've never taken off the sports bras unless I shower. That's it. I sleep with them on too, and I have for over 6 years. They're these closest things I have to a binder, and I feel like shit when I take them off.

I've been relapsing with SH recently because I felt so awful that I couldn't even have that one sliver of happiness without damaging myself. I've been trying so so so hard to be positive, but it's not possible. No matter what I do, I'll never be good enough. Not to the people in my life, at this point in my life I couldn't care less, but for myself. And that hurts so bad. The one teacher I trusted told me that I couldn't love anyone and no one would love me if I don't love myself, AFTER I told her how much I just wanted a partner. That just one person to love me will be enough.

I feel horrible about myself in almost every way. My own name feels wrong, I feel like I can't show my certain interests because it's too feminine, and I hate being touched because my own skin repulses me. I have masculine facial features and wide shoulders as well as hooded eyes, so I feel that I'm too masculine yet too feminine to even try to look good as any gender. I want to cut it all off and crawl out of my own skin, because seeing myself bleeding makes me a little happier. That I'm making my body suffer as much was it's making me suffer.

During the summer, I couldn't burn, cut, or scratch off my skin because it'd be noticeable, so I just started tearing chunks out of my tongue and inner mouth. They healed faster and was less noticeable, so I don't see anything wrong with is. My tongue and mouth break out in blisters every so often before the area practically decays anyway; so why not?. But I hate that to cope with me damaging myself, I damage myself more.

I wish my mom would at least be accepting enough to start me on HRT since I'm old enough, but she isn't. I don't know how much longer I can live like this. I've been counting down very days until I'm 18, but I don't think I can make it. I know I need mental help, but at this point, I think it's too late. I don't want to be like this, but I think giving myself false hope that everything will get better is unfair to myself. I don't think I'll ever feel happiness, and I don't think I'll ever live to fulfill my one dream; to be a man.