#hhhhhhh Tirah Depressed

[xoshepard]

I have been... very at odds with myself lately, tbh

idk if it’s my imminent return to america that has me on edge, or just a bunch of things that have been happening lately

since I met my internet friend on saturday I’ve felt weird because although I felt fine on the night, I realized later that I was like... viciously pushing parts of myself back to avoid making them feel awkward, because I knew that they weren’t the kind of person I would usually be friends with (we’ve known each other via the internet for like 5 years or something, and if we were more compatible we would be closer obvs) and so it was like a minefield because with people like that and someone like me, awkward situations are so easy to come by. it was even worse because they talked to me like they knew me, kept saying they loved me, etc. etc. but I wasn’t comfortable. I wasn’t uncomfortable, but I wasn’t myself

I also seem to be getting very very defensive about my blackness, and blackness in general these days. the other person I keep ranting about is the kind of person that thinks they’re an ally, but is just making a lot of noise for brownie points, often talking over actual black people or thinking that their opinion matters at all in, or worse yet, is crucial to, a discussion that black people are having about blackness. that’s one of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to like allies or whatever. sometimes u gotta know when to shut up.

but the more important things are also constantly bothering me, too. what’s going to happen to me? my family? is it just a matter of time before we’re just some more victims of an American Tragedy?

my friends have entirely different priorities... some of them don’t, or simply can’t, understand just how different our perspectives are.. I know it’s hard to grasp when we resonate with each other so well on so many different points, but we’re different. so, so different. some friends sympathize. some don’t know how I feel at all. it’s something else that I can’t share with my non-black friends because there can only be three reactions: 1) yes I, too, suffer (WRONG), 2) man that sucks (uh.. thanks..), and 3) boy I hate this system and I’ll fight with you (almost there but... somehow still lacking)

then talking with my black friends just reminds me that I’m so depressed that my african american history class was one of the main contributing factors to my suicidal thoughts in the dreaded Senior Year of College. I feel so fucking weak, there are people out there staying informed, spreading information, donating, fighting, protesting, and I can’t even have a conversation.

then there’s the wonderful “my black family thinks being un-straight means being unnatural”. this... I haven’t even begun to unpack this.... as far as my life’s trajectory is going, I could go my whole life pretending to be straight. but... fuck, man, do I just have to live my entire life hiding as much of myself as possible, and pretending the rest isn’t relevant? the hole in my heart when I listen to music from my childhood and hear how they talk about gayness in dancehall, or when my uncle gets up on his soapbox, or whatever whatever whatever. even to my parents, it’s the butt of a joke.

and let’s not get started on the misogyny. or god forbid the misogynoir. I know, I know, I’m a black woman which puts me on the bottom rung of every social ladder that exists, I’ve been told this since childhood, you guys were trying to prepare me for reality but you just made me lose my will to live. it’s not your fault, though. how do we deal with this world?

anyway, I just feel very.. uncomfortable in my skin right now, like no matter where I go or what I do it won’t be enough or it’ll be too much I’m walking this goddamned tightrope and wondering why I don’t just let myself drop off