Nelnaro
Member
- Jul 16, 2023
- 7
Hello, I want to share the story of my life. Sorry, there will be a lot of text. My name is Nelnaro, I am 27 years old, I am a transgender person. My childhood was pretty good. Dad has a complex character and may have some mental problems. It's hard to live with him, he may seem selfish, he may simply disappear from life for some time, at least in the relationship with my mother, this was the case. They couldn't live together, he often went to live with his grandmother, so for me it was normal that dad wasn't always there, and they constantly quarreled with mom. But he loved me, tried to spend time, bought me a lot of things. He had a small business and had money, we traveled to different countries on vacation, went on excursions, I really liked it, flying on airplanes, swimming in the pool, in the sea, etc.
Around the time I started school, I started to develop OCD and began to engage in repetitive behavior (for example, slamming doors in my room, and various other things). After the first grade, I was transferred to a private school, where the classes are small, the education is better, etc.
It was good at that school, I was friends with almost everyone in the class, I studied well. In the summer I was sent to the village to visit my great-grandmother, my parents came on weekends, but my grandmother was strict and unempathetic, I felt bad with her, and even though I had friends with whom I spent all the time, I suffered very much when my parents were not there, and this left a certain mark on the psyche. In grades 3 and 4, my friends and I at school were drawn to Sonic, we had our own roles, and I had some kind of unhealthy interest in my friend, but that's how it is. It was then that my love for characters and role-playing games began; I already had a male role at that time.
Then mom and dad broke up, but it didn't really affect me, since I still had frequent contact with him. In the fifth grade, everything started to change, I began to behave quite dissolutely, maybe I was spoiled, I don't know. We had a new girl, she was Armenian, she had a mustache, she was extremely shy, but we were somehow cruel and began to mock her, me, my friend and someone else. In fact, her older brother came to school, talked with the director about this, and they also talked very seriously with me and the class about how bullying should not be done. The day after that we stopped doing it immediately. But in the evening my dad was called, some kind of meeting was held with the director and teachers, and as I understood, he was asked to leave this school. It's like it's all my fault, I'm behaving very badly, etc. At home, my dad beat me with a belt. I didn't even understand why I was kicked out, because it wasn't me alone who was to blame, and I wasn't even given a chance to improve. From this moment on, my good life is over
My father began to treat me badly, saying how spoiled and bad I was, and so did my mother. They sent me to study at a regular school, which was located not far from home. But almost immediately my classmates began to bully me. I didn't do anything like that, I behaved normally, but it was difficult for me in such a large group. My parents went to school to sort it out, but they also said that I deserved it. It became difficult for me to study, I closed in on myself. I was still into Sonic and loved drawing on the computer. I sat on the site of the same fans, posted my drawings, wanted to become a cool artist, but there were very toxic people there who poured shit on my "masterpieces," and I did not achieve any success. The next school year I was transferred to another school, but they didn't immediately like me there either, and they also made me an outcast, I endured bullying, provocations, they didn't let me study, they pestered me in all my lessons, they set me up, they humiliated me, etc.
I had no friends then, no academic results, in my father's eyes I was just as bad... We met a girl on the Internet, two years older than me, she was from country . She had the same problems as me, she had her own characters, we became close very quickly, supported each other, I took the role of her character, who was supposedly her boyfriend. And one day she told me that she wanted to commit stb. I thought about it and decided that we could do this together. For me it seemed like a good decision to end this life. I suggested that she swallow pills, read the information on the Internet, there was a large list of stb methods and doses of pills, I chose paracetamol, it was the cheapest and most accessible at that time. About a week before the new year, while my mother was at work, I bought pills. After death, the girl and I, in theory, were supposed to go to our home planet, where she came from. In general, I drank, I probably squeezed in about 50-60 drinks in several sittings. Almost immediately I vomited, some part came out, then I got very dizzy and felt bad, but I didn't die. Mom came home from work, I said that I was poisoned by canned mushrooms. In general, I vomited bile for several days, after which I was finally sent to the hospital.
In the hospital room, I confessed to my mother over the phone that I had not poisoned myself with mushrooms, but had swallowed pills. They quickly did an ultrasound and then told me to get ready, my dad also called me, and he started yelling at me in anger. They took me by ambulance to another hospital, and at the reception they took away my phone. It was December 31st, and I celebrated the New Year all alone in the ward. The next day, in the morning, under obvious cover, a nurse came and took my blood, and I was transferred to intensive care, where I probably lay for 7 days under a drip, in the morning and evening they took blood from my finger, there were other suicidal teenagers, they didn't allow me to see my parents, they just sent me parcels and wrote me letters
My liver was badly damaged, but I felt better. Then they transferred us back to a regular ward, to this department they also brought teenagers who had been caught drunk on the street, once they brought in a completely drooling drunk girl who couldn't walk, then she woke us up and thought that we were her friends, damn it. I was looking forward to being discharged very much, but on the day when I was supposed to be discharged, they said that I had not yet been cured and had to stay for a few more days, I became hysterical in the department, and they took me home
At home, I did not receive any care or understanding from my parents; on the contrary, strict control, condemnation, and no support. Everything was banned. Mom just received a huge phone bill, since I called my girlfriend abroad from my home phone many times, and it came out to lot of money. Dad just flew into a rage, he grabbed the belt, but grandma and mom stopped him, and he hit mom hard on the leg with the belt.
Katya and I then continued to communicate on the Internet, my mother sent me to a psychiatrist, who prescribed me pills, and I began to delirium, then they prescribed others, but I didn't take the pills normally and sometimes spat them out. I began to experience severe depression, I loved my girlfriend very much, I really wanted to meet her, I really wanted to die as soon as possible, I made some attempts, drank potassium permanganate, vinegar, tried to throw myself out of the window, cut my hands. At school everything was the same, they tried to transfer it to external studies, when you come to school twice a week to take the program, and the rest of the time you study on your own. But they didn't take into account that my condition was serious, and I couldn't handle it. They also sent me to the camp, which was also a mistake, there I drank all the pills that they gave me with me, but there wasn't much there, instead I had behavior problems and I ruined my relationship with everyone there, and begged to be taken from there
In the summer I met a guy, he was also from Ukraine, and we also had a lot in common. He was born a girl, but felt like a guy. Then I realized that I was the same as him. After that, I cut off my long hair with scissors, leaving a man's haircut, talking about myself in the masculine gender, wearing men's clothes, hiding my figure, etc. At school, because of this, they began to hate me even more; I did not receive any support or understanding from my parents. I secretly skipped school, pretended that I was sick, threw hysterics at my mother, fought with her, fought. I didn't do my homework, my only joy was to play on the computer and correspond with my loved ones, but I was severely limited in this too. I was still depressed. I had severe dysphoria. Every day my dad gave me hour-long lectures about how bad I am, ignorant, a slacker, who are your friends, I'll become a nobody, I'll work as a janitor, look at your cousin, how great she is, and you were such a good girl, and what of you? has it grown? Etc.
Then my mother decided to have me examined at a neurological hospital, she and I were there together, in a paid ward for two. I went through different doctors, they of course treated me and my gender problem arrogantly, even mockingly. The only understanding I received from an adult was from a woman who taught drawing classes; she understood me and told me about some clergyman who was also born a woman, but considered himself a man.
In the end, after all the examinations, the doctors didn't want to give me any certificate (I needed it, then you'll understand why), but my mother really insisted, asked, maybe even gave me money, I don't know, and they gave me a certificate with a diagnosis that I have gender dysphoria
In general, after that, I don't remember well, but dad then introduced me to his wife and my brother, he was less than a year old at that time. His wife seemed kind to me, and I came to visit often. Somewhere in the spring, my parents decided to transfer me again to a private school, a different one. Since I practically didn't study, I didn't know anything in 7th grade, so they agreed to take me only to 6th grade. But unfortunately, I decided to immediately open up to my classmates, explain that I was transgender, and thus made a big mistake. Not only that, I also blurted out that I have a girlfriend. And of course, no one understood me, and there was ridicule and hate not only from my classmates, but also rumors spread around the school. This atmosphere put extreme pressure on the psyche, one day I simply went to the toilet and, out of despair, began to hit my nose until I started bleeding so that they would let me go home. Once I went to the men's restroom, sat in a stall for a long time, hiding from everyone, but the guys decided to check who was sitting, climbed onto the toilet and saw me through the partition. Everyone had a terrible time. I don't remember, it seems that later I broke my classmate's nose, the director came and talked to me. In general, I stayed there for a month until the end of the school year, then they took me away
The situation at home did not change, I was still depressed, the next year my mother sent me to a school where children with disabilities and disabilities study. A small school in the center of Moscow, where I studied until the 11th grade. Nobody dealt with my psyche, I didn't learn the lesson that transness should be hidden, I thought that they should know it. There were three people in our class, of course they hated me there too for this. I didn't study again, drew in class, played truant. It was just as hard, also unrequited love for my friend, whom we had known for a long time on the Internet. Once at home I drank almost a whole bottle of vodka, and was so drunk that I didn't remember anything, I came to my senses after I saw that I was sitting in the room with a razor in my hands, there was a long deep cut on my leg, the floor was covered in blood
In general, then I took the wrong path and started doing immoral things: I stole money from pockets in the school locker room, even from teachers. I got involved with bad company, drank, smoked, and used drugs. And nothing changed, probably, a year and a half passed, I was 8 at the time, towards the end of winter my condition began to improve, I took up horse riding, depression let me go, in general, it seemed that all the bad things were over. In the 9th grade, a new girl came, she was very kind, we became friends with her, and our class became friendly, it was quite fun the whole 9th grade at school. But soon all this collapsed when I met one person. We met on the Internet, it turned out that the girl lives not very far from me, we had common interests, she drew great, we had common characters and constantly played roles. I practically fell in love with her immediately, but she liked another person. I stopped taking the pills, also abruptly, which was impossible to do.
In general, I felt very bad mentally, I constantly threw hysterics at that person, blackmailed him with suicide, insulted him, but he tolerated it all. I became very attached to him. My parents noticed my condition, and that I didn't take pills, my dad came and forced me to drink, they also looked at my correspondence on the phone, they saw that I was writing that I wanted to die, a sketchbook with drawings by me and that girl, they read one letter of a rather personal nature. , and she laughed at him too. The next day they took me to the hospital to see a psychiatrist, he gave me a referral to the hospital where my mother and I had once been, but they didn't admit me there because I had suicidal thoughts. Then I was seriously injured by something and it seemed like there was some kind of kidney infection, I was in the hospital. In general, everything continued, I also got drunk sometimes, and then I started drinking Valocordin, first in small doses, then more and more, in the end I drank one and a half bottles and slept for a very long time, I couldn't wake up, I tried to get to school, but My legs were staggering, my head was spinning, there were blackouts in my memory. My mother also found a blade in my pencil case (I often cut myself) she thought I was attempting ctb, called a taxi and took me to a mental hospital, then I saw my grandmother alive for the last time. In the emergency department, they undressed me and some woman washed me, and I just cried, I felt very bad and scared. From there, my mother and I were taken to another hospital to the toxicology department, they took tests, but they were good, and my mother and I were released. I then had a chance to persuade my mother to go home, but I still had not recovered from the effects of Corvalol (a sedative) and was not thinking well. She took me back to the psychiatric hospital, they took away all my things, clothes, bracelet, hair tie, left me only underpants and gave me a robe. That's when an extremely difficult period of my life began, which I remember with horror.
It was my 17th birthday when I was in the hospital. I had hyper-realistic nightmares, and in the morning, when I woke up and realized where I was, I felt so bad and scared. The room looked more like a prison cell; it was locked, the toilet and shower were also locked, and there were two other girls. I didn't have any belongings; I could only see my parents through the window. The nurse treated me rudely and humiliated me. Those were the first seven days, and they were especially hard. I missed that girl terribly. Meanwhile, dad somehow found her mom's number, told her everything, and she beat her with a stool and more. Then I was transferred to the general ward. There were a lot of people there, mostly all suicidal, there were also children from an orphanage. Everything was very strict, according to the regime, constant supervision, control, even in the toilet, you could wash properly only once a week. I didn't eat anything in the canteen, the parcels were given for afternoon tea and I didn't have access to them, they were given out randomly. Most of the nurses brazenly stole and drank tea with my sweets in their closet. The intake of pills was also controlled (I was prescribed an antipsychotic there), and I had to show my mouth. You could see your parents twice a week. For two days I just cried there and begged my parents to take me away, they promised that they would take me away in two weeks, but in the end 1.5 months passed. You can't just take a person out of a mental hospital, only with the permission of the commission. Every day the guards watch you and record how you behave, etc. While I was there, my grandmother died of a stroke, but she didn't let me go to the funeral. It was terrible there, although I had friends, but I really wanted to go home. When my mother took me, I had terrible side effects from going off the pills, but then they went away. And I seemed to go crazy, I did some crazy things in the summer, stole money again, drank. He also called the person who that girl loved and threatened. In August, my mother, her future husband and I went to Bulgaria, where I also got drunk and remember that I stole a watch from a store. I don't remember the next school year well, there wasn't much fun, I had a good time with my classmate, she was quite generous and liked to buy me treats in the store. It seems like we stopped communicating with that girl for a while. In the 11th grade, my classmate left, there were two kids left who were mentally retarded, I was generally very bored, so I only came to school twice a week. Simply and for the sake of the teacher preparing me for the final exam. I wanted to study to become a designer, my dad paid for the preparatory courses, but after finishing school I wanted to go to medical college, and I barely enrolled on a paid basis. But I didn't complete my studies there, I began to feel severe depression, it was generally very difficult in the team, and I couldn't pass anything and took the documents from there after 3 months
I desperately looked for someone, but in the end there was only one left. And there was also a moment that a girl I knew wrote to me, and she loved me, but unfortunately I didn't love her, but she came to Moscow to see me, I tried to devote time to her, but I was depressed because it's hard to communicate, so I was pretty cold. When she left we didn't talk anymore
After an unsuccessful attempt at studying, I went to work in a store, but it was hard for me to work among people, and the heavy workload exhausted me. I changed jobs often, trying to earn at least a little money. I lived and continue to live with my mother, her husband and my sisters. My depression was not so severe, but I still suffered from dysphoria, and I tried to save money for my transgender transition, but I couldn't, I couldn't earn much, and I spent a lot of money on antidepressants that I took. About 7 years ago I met a girl on the Internet, we started dating, I saved up money and came to her city to live together, but she constantly avoided meeting me, and only after 3 weeks she admitted that she did not love me. It was a strong blow to my psyche. A year later, I met another person who was close to me, but lost him due to his bouts of BPD. Then I began to have very severe depression, but I was able to get to a good doctor who prescribed me a strong medication regimen (California rocket fuel) which gave me an improvement in my life, relief from depression, I felt better than ever.
A year ago, I fell in love with a fictional character. Yes, I truly fell in love, as if with a real person. I still fucking love him so much. All my life I have experienced loneliness; I have never had a long-term normal relationship. I made many attempts to find my loved one, but I could not find him. I need love too much. I suffer a lot, I can't live without love... From time to time I resort to SH. And I often think about STB, but I can't do it, although I really want to.
I will add that my country recently banned transgender transition, and declared LGBT an extremist organization, and any propaganda is illegal. But I can't leave the country, my family, because I'm almost helpless, I don't have enough moral strength to do this... Thank you for reading
Around the time I started school, I started to develop OCD and began to engage in repetitive behavior (for example, slamming doors in my room, and various other things). After the first grade, I was transferred to a private school, where the classes are small, the education is better, etc.
It was good at that school, I was friends with almost everyone in the class, I studied well. In the summer I was sent to the village to visit my great-grandmother, my parents came on weekends, but my grandmother was strict and unempathetic, I felt bad with her, and even though I had friends with whom I spent all the time, I suffered very much when my parents were not there, and this left a certain mark on the psyche. In grades 3 and 4, my friends and I at school were drawn to Sonic, we had our own roles, and I had some kind of unhealthy interest in my friend, but that's how it is. It was then that my love for characters and role-playing games began; I already had a male role at that time.
Then mom and dad broke up, but it didn't really affect me, since I still had frequent contact with him. In the fifth grade, everything started to change, I began to behave quite dissolutely, maybe I was spoiled, I don't know. We had a new girl, she was Armenian, she had a mustache, she was extremely shy, but we were somehow cruel and began to mock her, me, my friend and someone else. In fact, her older brother came to school, talked with the director about this, and they also talked very seriously with me and the class about how bullying should not be done. The day after that we stopped doing it immediately. But in the evening my dad was called, some kind of meeting was held with the director and teachers, and as I understood, he was asked to leave this school. It's like it's all my fault, I'm behaving very badly, etc. At home, my dad beat me with a belt. I didn't even understand why I was kicked out, because it wasn't me alone who was to blame, and I wasn't even given a chance to improve. From this moment on, my good life is over
My father began to treat me badly, saying how spoiled and bad I was, and so did my mother. They sent me to study at a regular school, which was located not far from home. But almost immediately my classmates began to bully me. I didn't do anything like that, I behaved normally, but it was difficult for me in such a large group. My parents went to school to sort it out, but they also said that I deserved it. It became difficult for me to study, I closed in on myself. I was still into Sonic and loved drawing on the computer. I sat on the site of the same fans, posted my drawings, wanted to become a cool artist, but there were very toxic people there who poured shit on my "masterpieces," and I did not achieve any success. The next school year I was transferred to another school, but they didn't immediately like me there either, and they also made me an outcast, I endured bullying, provocations, they didn't let me study, they pestered me in all my lessons, they set me up, they humiliated me, etc.
I had no friends then, no academic results, in my father's eyes I was just as bad... We met a girl on the Internet, two years older than me, she was from country . She had the same problems as me, she had her own characters, we became close very quickly, supported each other, I took the role of her character, who was supposedly her boyfriend. And one day she told me that she wanted to commit stb. I thought about it and decided that we could do this together. For me it seemed like a good decision to end this life. I suggested that she swallow pills, read the information on the Internet, there was a large list of stb methods and doses of pills, I chose paracetamol, it was the cheapest and most accessible at that time. About a week before the new year, while my mother was at work, I bought pills. After death, the girl and I, in theory, were supposed to go to our home planet, where she came from. In general, I drank, I probably squeezed in about 50-60 drinks in several sittings. Almost immediately I vomited, some part came out, then I got very dizzy and felt bad, but I didn't die. Mom came home from work, I said that I was poisoned by canned mushrooms. In general, I vomited bile for several days, after which I was finally sent to the hospital.
In the hospital room, I confessed to my mother over the phone that I had not poisoned myself with mushrooms, but had swallowed pills. They quickly did an ultrasound and then told me to get ready, my dad also called me, and he started yelling at me in anger. They took me by ambulance to another hospital, and at the reception they took away my phone. It was December 31st, and I celebrated the New Year all alone in the ward. The next day, in the morning, under obvious cover, a nurse came and took my blood, and I was transferred to intensive care, where I probably lay for 7 days under a drip, in the morning and evening they took blood from my finger, there were other suicidal teenagers, they didn't allow me to see my parents, they just sent me parcels and wrote me letters
My liver was badly damaged, but I felt better. Then they transferred us back to a regular ward, to this department they also brought teenagers who had been caught drunk on the street, once they brought in a completely drooling drunk girl who couldn't walk, then she woke us up and thought that we were her friends, damn it. I was looking forward to being discharged very much, but on the day when I was supposed to be discharged, they said that I had not yet been cured and had to stay for a few more days, I became hysterical in the department, and they took me home
At home, I did not receive any care or understanding from my parents; on the contrary, strict control, condemnation, and no support. Everything was banned. Mom just received a huge phone bill, since I called my girlfriend abroad from my home phone many times, and it came out to lot of money. Dad just flew into a rage, he grabbed the belt, but grandma and mom stopped him, and he hit mom hard on the leg with the belt.
Katya and I then continued to communicate on the Internet, my mother sent me to a psychiatrist, who prescribed me pills, and I began to delirium, then they prescribed others, but I didn't take the pills normally and sometimes spat them out. I began to experience severe depression, I loved my girlfriend very much, I really wanted to meet her, I really wanted to die as soon as possible, I made some attempts, drank potassium permanganate, vinegar, tried to throw myself out of the window, cut my hands. At school everything was the same, they tried to transfer it to external studies, when you come to school twice a week to take the program, and the rest of the time you study on your own. But they didn't take into account that my condition was serious, and I couldn't handle it. They also sent me to the camp, which was also a mistake, there I drank all the pills that they gave me with me, but there wasn't much there, instead I had behavior problems and I ruined my relationship with everyone there, and begged to be taken from there
In the summer I met a guy, he was also from Ukraine, and we also had a lot in common. He was born a girl, but felt like a guy. Then I realized that I was the same as him. After that, I cut off my long hair with scissors, leaving a man's haircut, talking about myself in the masculine gender, wearing men's clothes, hiding my figure, etc. At school, because of this, they began to hate me even more; I did not receive any support or understanding from my parents. I secretly skipped school, pretended that I was sick, threw hysterics at my mother, fought with her, fought. I didn't do my homework, my only joy was to play on the computer and correspond with my loved ones, but I was severely limited in this too. I was still depressed. I had severe dysphoria. Every day my dad gave me hour-long lectures about how bad I am, ignorant, a slacker, who are your friends, I'll become a nobody, I'll work as a janitor, look at your cousin, how great she is, and you were such a good girl, and what of you? has it grown? Etc.
Then my mother decided to have me examined at a neurological hospital, she and I were there together, in a paid ward for two. I went through different doctors, they of course treated me and my gender problem arrogantly, even mockingly. The only understanding I received from an adult was from a woman who taught drawing classes; she understood me and told me about some clergyman who was also born a woman, but considered himself a man.
In the end, after all the examinations, the doctors didn't want to give me any certificate (I needed it, then you'll understand why), but my mother really insisted, asked, maybe even gave me money, I don't know, and they gave me a certificate with a diagnosis that I have gender dysphoria
In general, after that, I don't remember well, but dad then introduced me to his wife and my brother, he was less than a year old at that time. His wife seemed kind to me, and I came to visit often. Somewhere in the spring, my parents decided to transfer me again to a private school, a different one. Since I practically didn't study, I didn't know anything in 7th grade, so they agreed to take me only to 6th grade. But unfortunately, I decided to immediately open up to my classmates, explain that I was transgender, and thus made a big mistake. Not only that, I also blurted out that I have a girlfriend. And of course, no one understood me, and there was ridicule and hate not only from my classmates, but also rumors spread around the school. This atmosphere put extreme pressure on the psyche, one day I simply went to the toilet and, out of despair, began to hit my nose until I started bleeding so that they would let me go home. Once I went to the men's restroom, sat in a stall for a long time, hiding from everyone, but the guys decided to check who was sitting, climbed onto the toilet and saw me through the partition. Everyone had a terrible time. I don't remember, it seems that later I broke my classmate's nose, the director came and talked to me. In general, I stayed there for a month until the end of the school year, then they took me away
The situation at home did not change, I was still depressed, the next year my mother sent me to a school where children with disabilities and disabilities study. A small school in the center of Moscow, where I studied until the 11th grade. Nobody dealt with my psyche, I didn't learn the lesson that transness should be hidden, I thought that they should know it. There were three people in our class, of course they hated me there too for this. I didn't study again, drew in class, played truant. It was just as hard, also unrequited love for my friend, whom we had known for a long time on the Internet. Once at home I drank almost a whole bottle of vodka, and was so drunk that I didn't remember anything, I came to my senses after I saw that I was sitting in the room with a razor in my hands, there was a long deep cut on my leg, the floor was covered in blood
In general, then I took the wrong path and started doing immoral things: I stole money from pockets in the school locker room, even from teachers. I got involved with bad company, drank, smoked, and used drugs. And nothing changed, probably, a year and a half passed, I was 8 at the time, towards the end of winter my condition began to improve, I took up horse riding, depression let me go, in general, it seemed that all the bad things were over. In the 9th grade, a new girl came, she was very kind, we became friends with her, and our class became friendly, it was quite fun the whole 9th grade at school. But soon all this collapsed when I met one person. We met on the Internet, it turned out that the girl lives not very far from me, we had common interests, she drew great, we had common characters and constantly played roles. I practically fell in love with her immediately, but she liked another person. I stopped taking the pills, also abruptly, which was impossible to do.
In general, I felt very bad mentally, I constantly threw hysterics at that person, blackmailed him with suicide, insulted him, but he tolerated it all. I became very attached to him. My parents noticed my condition, and that I didn't take pills, my dad came and forced me to drink, they also looked at my correspondence on the phone, they saw that I was writing that I wanted to die, a sketchbook with drawings by me and that girl, they read one letter of a rather personal nature. , and she laughed at him too. The next day they took me to the hospital to see a psychiatrist, he gave me a referral to the hospital where my mother and I had once been, but they didn't admit me there because I had suicidal thoughts. Then I was seriously injured by something and it seemed like there was some kind of kidney infection, I was in the hospital. In general, everything continued, I also got drunk sometimes, and then I started drinking Valocordin, first in small doses, then more and more, in the end I drank one and a half bottles and slept for a very long time, I couldn't wake up, I tried to get to school, but My legs were staggering, my head was spinning, there were blackouts in my memory. My mother also found a blade in my pencil case (I often cut myself) she thought I was attempting ctb, called a taxi and took me to a mental hospital, then I saw my grandmother alive for the last time. In the emergency department, they undressed me and some woman washed me, and I just cried, I felt very bad and scared. From there, my mother and I were taken to another hospital to the toxicology department, they took tests, but they were good, and my mother and I were released. I then had a chance to persuade my mother to go home, but I still had not recovered from the effects of Corvalol (a sedative) and was not thinking well. She took me back to the psychiatric hospital, they took away all my things, clothes, bracelet, hair tie, left me only underpants and gave me a robe. That's when an extremely difficult period of my life began, which I remember with horror.
It was my 17th birthday when I was in the hospital. I had hyper-realistic nightmares, and in the morning, when I woke up and realized where I was, I felt so bad and scared. The room looked more like a prison cell; it was locked, the toilet and shower were also locked, and there were two other girls. I didn't have any belongings; I could only see my parents through the window. The nurse treated me rudely and humiliated me. Those were the first seven days, and they were especially hard. I missed that girl terribly. Meanwhile, dad somehow found her mom's number, told her everything, and she beat her with a stool and more. Then I was transferred to the general ward. There were a lot of people there, mostly all suicidal, there were also children from an orphanage. Everything was very strict, according to the regime, constant supervision, control, even in the toilet, you could wash properly only once a week. I didn't eat anything in the canteen, the parcels were given for afternoon tea and I didn't have access to them, they were given out randomly. Most of the nurses brazenly stole and drank tea with my sweets in their closet. The intake of pills was also controlled (I was prescribed an antipsychotic there), and I had to show my mouth. You could see your parents twice a week. For two days I just cried there and begged my parents to take me away, they promised that they would take me away in two weeks, but in the end 1.5 months passed. You can't just take a person out of a mental hospital, only with the permission of the commission. Every day the guards watch you and record how you behave, etc. While I was there, my grandmother died of a stroke, but she didn't let me go to the funeral. It was terrible there, although I had friends, but I really wanted to go home. When my mother took me, I had terrible side effects from going off the pills, but then they went away. And I seemed to go crazy, I did some crazy things in the summer, stole money again, drank. He also called the person who that girl loved and threatened. In August, my mother, her future husband and I went to Bulgaria, where I also got drunk and remember that I stole a watch from a store. I don't remember the next school year well, there wasn't much fun, I had a good time with my classmate, she was quite generous and liked to buy me treats in the store. It seems like we stopped communicating with that girl for a while. In the 11th grade, my classmate left, there were two kids left who were mentally retarded, I was generally very bored, so I only came to school twice a week. Simply and for the sake of the teacher preparing me for the final exam. I wanted to study to become a designer, my dad paid for the preparatory courses, but after finishing school I wanted to go to medical college, and I barely enrolled on a paid basis. But I didn't complete my studies there, I began to feel severe depression, it was generally very difficult in the team, and I couldn't pass anything and took the documents from there after 3 months
I desperately looked for someone, but in the end there was only one left. And there was also a moment that a girl I knew wrote to me, and she loved me, but unfortunately I didn't love her, but she came to Moscow to see me, I tried to devote time to her, but I was depressed because it's hard to communicate, so I was pretty cold. When she left we didn't talk anymore
After an unsuccessful attempt at studying, I went to work in a store, but it was hard for me to work among people, and the heavy workload exhausted me. I changed jobs often, trying to earn at least a little money. I lived and continue to live with my mother, her husband and my sisters. My depression was not so severe, but I still suffered from dysphoria, and I tried to save money for my transgender transition, but I couldn't, I couldn't earn much, and I spent a lot of money on antidepressants that I took. About 7 years ago I met a girl on the Internet, we started dating, I saved up money and came to her city to live together, but she constantly avoided meeting me, and only after 3 weeks she admitted that she did not love me. It was a strong blow to my psyche. A year later, I met another person who was close to me, but lost him due to his bouts of BPD. Then I began to have very severe depression, but I was able to get to a good doctor who prescribed me a strong medication regimen (California rocket fuel) which gave me an improvement in my life, relief from depression, I felt better than ever.
A year ago, I fell in love with a fictional character. Yes, I truly fell in love, as if with a real person. I still fucking love him so much. All my life I have experienced loneliness; I have never had a long-term normal relationship. I made many attempts to find my loved one, but I could not find him. I need love too much. I suffer a lot, I can't live without love... From time to time I resort to SH. And I often think about STB, but I can't do it, although I really want to.
I will add that my country recently banned transgender transition, and declared LGBT an extremist organization, and any propaganda is illegal. But I can't leave the country, my family, because I'm almost helpless, I don't have enough moral strength to do this... Thank you for reading
