Quote from: nameuser on August 28, 2016, 07:19:01 PM
I had no idea who "me" was until the last few months, just a pervasive sense that the me I was projecting was not the real me, or the right me ...
+1
Talking about the "Me" seems hard, yet is easy. The "Me", the maybe is the real me, is all those things that keep you awake night, eat too much, drink too much, etc.. The "Me" is that scared little kid inside that wants help, but don't know how to ask for it. Or, even begin to describe what is wrong.
When I first took on the Trans-Beast for real 7 years ago I had absolutely no idea who "Me" was. All I knew for sure was what I was expected to be. The real me died around the age of 8 or so when along with no such thing as Santa Clause I knew there was no way I was going to somehow wake up in the morning as a girl. So the real me had become the what was expected me.
That me was totally dull, boring; or as it so happened, a lifeless, soulless 'Thing' that existed only to do what was expected. No hopes, no wishes, no dreams bar one given up on long ago. That 'Me' also had a ton of "other(?)" issues thanks to being trans that I wanted to fix. What was making my life miserable was more baggage then direct trans stuff.
Though it totally hard for this VERY private most times introverted person to even speak of touchy-feelie things like "feelings" I did my best to since I wanted to help fix myself and saw only one good way to do that. (The other had no "Do-Over" option)
To this day this dull, boring, has no life gal cannot believe the incredible amount of crap I am constantly juggling. Most times successfully, sometimes the world comes crashing down. I find myself many days I had that dull, boring, nothing happening life, I thought I had.
Talking about "Me" was difficult for me. I had no idea who/what me was. Still I ran with what I knew and that was the "What was expected" me feelings/thoughts/problems/etc.. As I grew as a person it became easier and harder to talk about "Me". The Me I knew soon became a hazy version of him. I began to see through the illusions I needed to build up over the years in order to survive.
A good DBT connection that counts is Mindfulness. Lord do I know all too well how hard it is to shut out the noise. The very same noise that prevents you from going anywhere near thinking "Who is Me?". The stuff late nights and hangovers are made of.
Seven years into this journey and I am barely scratching the surface of the "Real" me. A lot of the old me is still me. A lot of the old me still haunts me. Most days now I know who the real my is by sight. But I am not privy to who that real me is, her thoughts, her hopes, wishes, and dreams, as she is fumbling her way through adolescence.