Hi all, new here but not here for long. Been lurking for a while. I thought I'd share a bit of my story.
I'm 19, transgender, bipolar, panic disorder, adhd, history of anorexia, history of abuse.
I wish I could have just been one of those kids who got to do this shit early. Been able to get everything together. Had the courage to speak for themselves. It would have saved me so much time and money and pain. But wishing gets you nowhere. I knew I was trans early, I really did, real textbook case transexualism. But I got yelled at for it, my father made it his personal goal to make me as masculine as possible, made me lift weights and exercise with him daily, signed me up for football, made sure none of my friends were gay-which meant I had no friends. I didn't get to be trans, I didn't even get to be gay. I mourn this part of my life. I turned to anorexia to try to circumvent what my dad was doing to me. It did kind of work honestly; My bone structure is surprisingly slight for my height. But it for sure fucked me up mentally. When I was 11, I also turned to "cutting" to cope. But I was too pussy to do any real cutting, I would basically scratch myself with a pocket knife, never really drawing blood(that hurts!). I remember showing a shrink my barely noticable scars and her instantly committing me to a hospital. It was all so orchestrated. I got a whole ambulance ride and everything, like as if I was some danger to everyone around me. I didn't want to hurt anyone or myself at that point, I didn't even know what I was doing. The hospital was terrible to say the least. I'll say it again and again, mental hospitals are not there to help you; they are there to take your money. I didn't recieve any help there besides some blanket statements and plithy slogans about mental health. The staff there even tried to convince me that I wasn't gay, like "oh you're so young how can you be so sure? :)". They were going to keep me there for a month, I basically I had to fake the whole "I'm not gay no more" thing to get out of there in a week. And back to my father I went. Things steadily got worse and worse as I went through puberty and couldn't fake it any longer. My father was a emotional manipulator, but it was at this time when I thought he might genuinelly hurt me. At 15, He pinned me to the wall and screamed in my face when he found out I had been crossdressing. He gaslit me into thinking that I was crazy and invaded any privacy I had left.
At 16 I ran away from my house and went to live with my grandmother. She's been one of the few good people in my life. I got to express myself more. But testosterone had fucked me. This opened me up to even more scrutiny when I came out at school. I got on horomones as soon as I turned 18 with the help from my mother, but it's not enough. I tried to escape through art, even spent a year at a really good art school, but collapsed mentally after a year.
It's only been like for a few months that I've been consistently passing. It's been nice I guess but I'm constantly on edge. I'm not like a neandrathal, I could be a lot more masculine, but I could be a lot more feminine. The in-between almost hurts the most. I told my mother about this. I've been trying to get her to support my FFS, but apparently "oh you don't need anything, you're so beautiful :)". The thing is I'm an artist. And a pretty good one if I can toot my own horn a bit. I know about facial anatomy. I know what facial proportions make a face read as masculine or feminine. I'm not stupid. And being trans has had serious issues in my day to day life. I'd really like to have some changes that would genuinelly make my life better and I can't do that without money. I'm not okay with just staying the same. I want to improve myself and my looks. AND I'VE BEEN TRYING. I'm obscessed with it. We really are just slaves to bad genetics and ugly parents sometimes.
And of course things "could be worse"-that's what they always tell you. But things could be a hell of a lot better couldn't they? And maybe my pain isn't related to other peoples, ever think about that? A lot of people will say they want you to get better but they really don't. While it may not be ill-intentioned, secretly they want someone to pity; sure you can "get better", but you can't get better than them.
I transferred to a state school this year. Just "finished" up my semester in college if you can call it that lol. Working towards some bullshit psychology program that I don't care about at all. Idk I'd feel better just saying fuck it and making an only fans but I need FFS first before I could make any money. I'm like a 5 at best. And I'm waiting a year for a consultation for that, and another year from then to get an actual surgery date. Which is great. Yes, I'd LOOVVE to suffer for 2 whole years while I already hate myself and have no clear direction or way out. I fucking hate being a tranny, like jesus christ I'm 6 feet tall. Hell maybe I could get "height reduction surgery" (it is a real thing in Turkey, i had a consultation lmao). But thats another period of waiting and that comes with a myriad of complications. And its not like I don't take care of myself, in fact I'm obcessed with being as beautiful as possible with makeup and skincare, hair, and all that; it's what keeps me going. At the end of the day I'm fucking exhausted. I'm burnt out. Fuck my genes. And fuck my ugly parents for giving birth to me.
Honestly for these past few months I just haven't existed. I'm tired of showing my face to the world. Havn't stepped foot on campus or checked my email at all, I had a group do my whole group project and didn't call me out on it. Did manage to pass except for one of my classes. But it's not like that matters really. I've been in a fugue state of depression and panic attacks. I can't control my own thoughts anymore.
This is it. I'm done. I don't care who misses me or if it's selfish, the pain outweighs it all. And fuck everyone who doesn't support trans kids. This is the result. I'll be partying for the next few days with my boyfriend and his friends at their cabin. Drinking, speed, sex and molly, all the good stuff. Try to get some hedonistic joy out of the way before I kick it. One last hurrah I guess.
But hey, you know, all things considered, I've had some good times. I fought a good fucking fight. I did what I could with what I'd been given. Even with all my pain, I forgive everyone for what they did to me. That's how I win.
I'll update in a few days when the time comes.
I'm 19, transgender, bipolar, panic disorder, adhd, history of anorexia, history of abuse.
I wish I could have just been one of those kids who got to do this shit early. Been able to get everything together. Had the courage to speak for themselves. It would have saved me so much time and money and pain. But wishing gets you nowhere. I knew I was trans early, I really did, real textbook case transexualism. But I got yelled at for it, my father made it his personal goal to make me as masculine as possible, made me lift weights and exercise with him daily, signed me up for football, made sure none of my friends were gay-which meant I had no friends. I didn't get to be trans, I didn't even get to be gay. I mourn this part of my life. I turned to anorexia to try to circumvent what my dad was doing to me. It did kind of work honestly; My bone structure is surprisingly slight for my height. But it for sure fucked me up mentally. When I was 11, I also turned to "cutting" to cope. But I was too pussy to do any real cutting, I would basically scratch myself with a pocket knife, never really drawing blood(that hurts!). I remember showing a shrink my barely noticable scars and her instantly committing me to a hospital. It was all so orchestrated. I got a whole ambulance ride and everything, like as if I was some danger to everyone around me. I didn't want to hurt anyone or myself at that point, I didn't even know what I was doing. The hospital was terrible to say the least. I'll say it again and again, mental hospitals are not there to help you; they are there to take your money. I didn't recieve any help there besides some blanket statements and plithy slogans about mental health. The staff there even tried to convince me that I wasn't gay, like "oh you're so young how can you be so sure? :)". They were going to keep me there for a month, I basically I had to fake the whole "I'm not gay no more" thing to get out of there in a week. And back to my father I went. Things steadily got worse and worse as I went through puberty and couldn't fake it any longer. My father was a emotional manipulator, but it was at this time when I thought he might genuinelly hurt me. At 15, He pinned me to the wall and screamed in my face when he found out I had been crossdressing. He gaslit me into thinking that I was crazy and invaded any privacy I had left.
At 16 I ran away from my house and went to live with my grandmother. She's been one of the few good people in my life. I got to express myself more. But testosterone had fucked me. This opened me up to even more scrutiny when I came out at school. I got on horomones as soon as I turned 18 with the help from my mother, but it's not enough. I tried to escape through art, even spent a year at a really good art school, but collapsed mentally after a year.
It's only been like for a few months that I've been consistently passing. It's been nice I guess but I'm constantly on edge. I'm not like a neandrathal, I could be a lot more masculine, but I could be a lot more feminine. The in-between almost hurts the most. I told my mother about this. I've been trying to get her to support my FFS, but apparently "oh you don't need anything, you're so beautiful :)". The thing is I'm an artist. And a pretty good one if I can toot my own horn a bit. I know about facial anatomy. I know what facial proportions make a face read as masculine or feminine. I'm not stupid. And being trans has had serious issues in my day to day life. I'd really like to have some changes that would genuinelly make my life better and I can't do that without money. I'm not okay with just staying the same. I want to improve myself and my looks. AND I'VE BEEN TRYING. I'm obscessed with it. We really are just slaves to bad genetics and ugly parents sometimes.
And of course things "could be worse"-that's what they always tell you. But things could be a hell of a lot better couldn't they? And maybe my pain isn't related to other peoples, ever think about that? A lot of people will say they want you to get better but they really don't. While it may not be ill-intentioned, secretly they want someone to pity; sure you can "get better", but you can't get better than them.
I transferred to a state school this year. Just "finished" up my semester in college if you can call it that lol. Working towards some bullshit psychology program that I don't care about at all. Idk I'd feel better just saying fuck it and making an only fans but I need FFS first before I could make any money. I'm like a 5 at best. And I'm waiting a year for a consultation for that, and another year from then to get an actual surgery date. Which is great. Yes, I'd LOOVVE to suffer for 2 whole years while I already hate myself and have no clear direction or way out. I fucking hate being a tranny, like jesus christ I'm 6 feet tall. Hell maybe I could get "height reduction surgery" (it is a real thing in Turkey, i had a consultation lmao). But thats another period of waiting and that comes with a myriad of complications. And its not like I don't take care of myself, in fact I'm obcessed with being as beautiful as possible with makeup and skincare, hair, and all that; it's what keeps me going. At the end of the day I'm fucking exhausted. I'm burnt out. Fuck my genes. And fuck my ugly parents for giving birth to me.
Honestly for these past few months I just haven't existed. I'm tired of showing my face to the world. Havn't stepped foot on campus or checked my email at all, I had a group do my whole group project and didn't call me out on it. Did manage to pass except for one of my classes. But it's not like that matters really. I've been in a fugue state of depression and panic attacks. I can't control my own thoughts anymore.
This is it. I'm done. I don't care who misses me or if it's selfish, the pain outweighs it all. And fuck everyone who doesn't support trans kids. This is the result. I'll be partying for the next few days with my boyfriend and his friends at their cabin. Drinking, speed, sex and molly, all the good stuff. Try to get some hedonistic joy out of the way before I kick it. One last hurrah I guess.
But hey, you know, all things considered, I've had some good times. I fought a good fucking fight. I did what I could with what I'd been given. Even with all my pain, I forgive everyone for what they did to me. That's how I win.
I'll update in a few days when the time comes.
