I apologize if I'm posting in the wrong board, and for my inevitable rambling.
I don't even know where to begin. Anxiety, depression... these words just make me sound like I'm being melodramatic and trying too hard to self-diagnose, when I suppose all that I know for sure is that I feel 'wrong'. I have no life changing event to analyze, as my childhood rape was way too long ago, and my failed engagement was too recent. Part of me says that a healthy, male, Caucasian, only-child born and raised in a first world country should recognize his privilege and has no right to feel like the universe is unfair. Granted, I think I got that part of me from my parents.
Uncomfortable is the closest thing to an accurate description of my 'condition'. A rather benign definition, but it's constantly there during my waking hours. Sure, I get anxious when in close proximity to someone other than my closest friends, and crowds will make me lock down in a heartbeat, but I at least understand that (only child, moved constantly until high school, little things here and there) - and it feels different. This persistent discomfort doesn't just make me feel wrong, it's like I am wrong. Lost. Misplaced. A freak.
So... I'm constantly uncomfortable, have an over-sized personal bubble, cry randomly whether I'm alone or not, and feel like everything I used to enjoy is now nothing more than a distraction. And I'm not sure what there is left for me to find enjoyment in. Something artistic would be my speed, but nothing seems to inspire. I've never been competitive, and honestly, don't think I ever want to be - I don't give a damn what team won the gold sports trophy. I still love music, but I need something to -do-.
And now, on top of all that, I'm finding a lot of memories resurfacing or noticing trends I never paid attention to. Every close friend I had growing up was a girl, and as an adult, the only friends I really connect with are women. Every male I've ever met has either repulsed or eventually betrayed me. Hell, most of the male stereotypes, all over the scale of credibility, make me sick to my stomach. Then I started to notice that when I was "checking out" women, it was more out of aesthetic appreciation, or even envy, than anything lustful. And possibly at the same time, I realized that my male qualities (equal parts mental, physical, and social) grossed me out. And then there are the dreams I've had my entire life...
Does this mean I'm transgender? I don't know. I could just subconsciously be grasping at straws, desperate for an explanation. But why would I pick that specific answer? Again, I don't know. I'm just tired of feeling like there's no light at the end of the tunnel.