Overthinking, the demons are winning.

[Daydreamer]

Overthinking again.

All at once, my demons are telling me I'll never be able to give my partner pleasure and he's bound to pick up and leave for someone else even though we're engaged. I don't know. Maybe it's my paranoia. We're both pan (I just say I'm queer to avoid further confusing others and myself), and sometimes I forget that and it often leaves me worried he'll leave me for a woman or a cis guy. It never calms my nerves to see him talking to old people he had a thing for or hearing of old facebook conversations. I sound controlling and obsessive with how low it makes me feel. How a song will remind him of those feelings, of missing his lips or however those lyrics go. I feel like a bastard thinking about it. It often has me in a haze, wondering if I was cis; would I have had the chance to sweep him off of his feet then and there if we went to school together. Dreams are meant for sleeping I guess, since it reminds me of how I'd beat myself up that if I was cis, I may have had a chance with people I had feelings for in school.

Again, it might be my paranoia, but I think he really wants to explore something with a woman. He's a jokester, but I don't think he was being sarcastic. He always says it wouldn't happen...but part of me feels like it would at some point. Sadly, I don't think I'd mind...or care if he did. I'd just be worried it would virtually end everything and just go to show that in the end, I can't win. I can't be mad, but something about how he talks about it eat me alive. I can't help but to think I'm not good enough and he might be trying to sweet talk me sometimes. I talk to him about rare phantom feelings, but now I don't know if he thinks I can feel anything every time we do stuff. I can't. I can't and I never will and it destroys me to know that I can see him go down on me, but it's nothing I can feel unless it's moving or rubbing against me. I get off, but nothing that I ever notice. I don't get there the way "real" people do. Now I feel really horrible even posting this. How do I even have the nerve to do this...talking about my best friend and the love of my life this way? Maybe I am just jealous. Paranoid. Both, I don't know. I don't think I deserve a companion if I feel this way.

It doesn't help that I've been heavily dysphoric with the curse raining down on me like a summer storm and nothing I do seem to make it go away. I just want to feel something. I just want to be happy. I know I can never have what I've longed for, but I'm sure if I did; I'd be left behind. I always am. I used to see a glimmer of who I was supposed to be looking at me, now all I see is this shell and I end up beating myself up, breaking my knees seeing something so wrong. I don't see anything masculine about me anymore and my voice only sends shivers down my back that I'm stuck in a reality where my cage is just something vile and a word I can't stand to speak without feeling like I want to puke. Yeah, I think it's the paranoia taking the wheel now. I feel so uneasy. I can't feel the fiber within that allows me to trust right now. I'm such a mess. My heart does a thing a bit now. It varies. From feeling like a stone sinking to the bottom of a river bed, to feeling like ripping or opening an old scab, to a big book being torn down the middle. Sometimes it's cold or just this constant heaviness. Sometimes, I don't really feel much because of a mental build up of scar tissue.

There's always something about me to find and nitpick at. How round and soft my face is. How small my hands and feet are. Love handles that I often see as curves. How big my thighs are. My uneven fat stomach. An incomplete set of abs; a pitiful excuse for even half a six-pack. Physically, emotionally and mentally weak. How disgustingly childish and obviously female my voice is. How short I am. Imperfect teeth; in position and brightness. Skin that's uneven and patchy; covered in freckles, scars and traces of NF1 that will never fade or go away no matter how hard I try. My chest that I can never hide. A part of me that was never included in my assembly.  Everything is all wrong and I see nothing to like.

I just hope I can survive today. I'm seeing a "special doctor" in a few days because of the curse and I know I'll be in trigger city. I don't think a cuddle session will make any of it better.

[Felix]

I shall overanswer. I know that none of the details you don't like about yourself are responsible in and of themselves for your unhappiness, but maybe it could help to hear again that you aren't alone in them.

Most people on this site have struggled greatly with how to relate to partners. Fears about losing someone to a "normal" man or woman are hard to not have. Problems with being able to enjoy sex in the bodies we have are difficult to overcome. I was able to alleviate a lot of that with practice and conscious intent. I had to very methodically decide that I wanted to like my body because my body is mine, and I focused on owning it and enjoying what I could, and it took a lot of work to get to where what I had was even okay to me. I only communicated these issues with my partners as it related to sex and my rules around that, though, so I don't know what it would be like to openly work on body issues while also navigating the other aspects of a relationship.

I used to struggle with not feeling anything. I would cut myself or punch cement to try to break through the numbness. I stopped that behavior when I was still very young, and I think I was able to stop it because I had other things going on in my life that took up all my attention and energy. Maybe you could find something you are passionate about and use that as a scaffold?

In your last paragraph, you mentioned a lot of physical problems. You will need to identify what matters most to you and try to change the details you have control over. 

Some of your flaws aren't bad things in my eyes. I like my crooked teeth and I find perfect teeth in others to be unattractive. Stock photos are never interesting. My skin is awful. My profile picture is old, but there's a visible rash on the right side of my face in it. I used to be very nervous about my skin and how it looked. No non-medical person has ever reacted strongly to seeing my skin other than me, though, so I just do what I can with it and try not to let it define me. I don't have or plan to acquire a six-pack, and the people who do usually aren't into any of the same books or music that I am. People who don't know I'm trans frequently refer to me as "babyfaced," and I have thin arms and tiny hands. I'll always have a bad foot and a gait that stands out when I'm tired. All that stuff is just the fluff that describes how I look. I hope you don't let your imperfections hurt you too much.

Good luck in dealing with seeing the doctor.