Wearing men's underwear means I'm sick because I'm not a man. Hating my birth name is sick. Not wanting those reproductive parts laying inside my body is sick. Wanting to be a boy is sick. I get it- I'm trans, so in your eyes I'm a sick freak. What makes you think you're everyone, Mom? What makes you think no one will accept me once I've transitioned, or that anyone will even know what I once lived through?
I don't expect you to understand, but what hurts is that you don't care. My relationship never caused these issues; they were there long before I met him. I want you not to harass me and expect me to handle the abuse without a word. I want you not to call me violent when my temper reaches a boiling point because you just WON'T STOP and things go flying. You stay away from me when that happens because that door is shut for a reason. You don't barge in there and then cry because your crazy monster of a "daughter" growled at you to get out. You don't get to say in that hushed dramatic voices that I'm psychotic and look at my pupils, how dilated they are. Yeah, Mom, pupils dilate when you're under stress.
My dad doesn't help one bit, either. All he does is promise that he's there for me and on my side, but just thinks I'm wrong. The only way he'll be convinced is by hearing it from a "professional". I told him to get one, and he said nothing happens instantaneously. This has been going on for months, and every day is making a deeper wound inside me. He said, "Goodnight, ladies," when he left and I wanted to get up and strangle him. Anger runs deep in my veins like any other stereotypical red-blooded American guy. I'm not a "crazy bitch", I'm a guy who is constantly being denied who he is.
All I hear is how they want to help me, but that's the furthest from what they're doing. It seems like they mean they're helping themselves and neglecting my feelings as a person. Why can't I be a boy if that's how I feel? Because I'm a minor. Why can't I dress in clothes without approval? Because I'm a minor. Why can't I go anywhere without constant calls being made? Because I'm a minor. Why do I have no right to privacy? Because I'm a minor. What the hell does age have to do with basic freedoms? I'm not 6 years old; my judgement is actually sound unless blind rage throws it off.
And what the hell? Are you really going to sit there and use the "she never does any of her work" line in front of me? Ask my teachers; not one will say I'm missing anything. I do homework in school, at home, even on the train if my body is too exhausted to pull yet another all-nighter. The adderall you put me on doesn't make me do or like work; it taxes my heart and that's it. I get palpitations all the time on it, but does anyone care? Nope. Oh, but god forbid I ever think of injecting a steroid already present in my body in order to help me live the life I need to have! No, that would be unnatural! But amphetamines are perfectly fine, dear!
Why are you torturing me? Why do you scream that I'm doing this to punish you and that I'm throwing my life away? Why do you paint a picture of a psychotic girl to my father, so that he'll agree with you and put me in a mental hospital? Why am I even bothering anymore...
She read through every single one of my text messages and came across one to my boyfriend about the name I'd like to have, and practically spit it at me. I don't even know if I want to use it anymore...it was a perfect name and now it feels horrible to think about. Maybe someday I'll heal enough to accept it, but now I don't know. I have no person to reassure me irl, no name to go by, nothing. She took the liberty of combing through my room to find and take the boxer briefs I was ecstatic about finally getting.
Why can't I be allowed some measure of happiness without the world crashing down within a few days?