Aug 2016
I'm going back to school in less than two weeks. "Will I make it?" has what I've been on my mind for the past week.
I am not a female, my gender identity does not match with the word "girl", but my family sure thinks so. I want to come out to them, but I have an extreme fear of stages, and I'd have to put myself on the potium to tell them,"Hey, I'm a boy." I fear I'd have to yell, scream, and chant for them to be able to hear my message and understand what I'm saying. Even then, would they except me?
My mother told me to wean myself off of my antidepressants because of the way they affected her. I didn't feel like arguing so I did it anyway. I wish I could continue to take them but the halfs of those pills left a bitter aftertaste I wish I could forget, because that taste made me feel better. I'm away from my pocket knife and that makes me want to unzip my arms from wrist to elbow, letting my stars and comets finally be free as the voices begin to silence and the shadowy creature wave goodbye.
I tell myself my body is a universe, to seem more beautiful, to see myself in a different light. My universe is haunted by demons though. The Suns that glow inside my eyes are dying from the unwanted shadows and orbs ******* them dry of life, they're about to burst, becoming a super nova. My vision is blurry and dotted, and all I can see are solar systems falling apart, turning into different variations of Hell, they're beginning to orbit nothing but obsessions and wanting to find love in the wounded parts of myself and others.
I know some people believe that you can't love others unless you can learn to love yourself. That isn't true. I've loved, I've loved others before, I haven't been able to find the right textbook that gives me step by step instructions on how to not see myself as a complete waste of air. I wish I could love myself, it seems I can temporarily do that when I'm with someone, but when my self esteem begins to leave, I know that's when it's going to end. I'd rather be left alone than be able to predict the end of my happiness. My 11:11 wishes, my blown away lashes, my lucky pennies, leave me. The wishes came true, they did, but didn't last as long as I wanted them to. I guess I'm my own fortune teller, in some way.
So, I ask myself, "Will I make it?" Because I know things are supposed to get better, and I know these downhills will eventually level out, but if I get low enough, I'm afraid there is not coming back up.
I am not a female, my gender identity does not match with the word "girl", but my family sure thinks so. I want to come out to them, but I have an extreme fear of stages, and I'd have to put myself on the potium to tell them,"Hey, I'm a boy." I fear I'd have to yell, scream, and chant for them to be able to hear my message and understand what I'm saying. Even then, would they except me?
My mother told me to wean myself off of my antidepressants because of the way they affected her. I didn't feel like arguing so I did it anyway. I wish I could continue to take them but the halfs of those pills left a bitter aftertaste I wish I could forget, because that taste made me feel better. I'm away from my pocket knife and that makes me want to unzip my arms from wrist to elbow, letting my stars and comets finally be free as the voices begin to silence and the shadowy creature wave goodbye.
I tell myself my body is a universe, to seem more beautiful, to see myself in a different light. My universe is haunted by demons though. The Suns that glow inside my eyes are dying from the unwanted shadows and orbs ******* them dry of life, they're about to burst, becoming a super nova. My vision is blurry and dotted, and all I can see are solar systems falling apart, turning into different variations of Hell, they're beginning to orbit nothing but obsessions and wanting to find love in the wounded parts of myself and others.
I know some people believe that you can't love others unless you can learn to love yourself. That isn't true. I've loved, I've loved others before, I haven't been able to find the right textbook that gives me step by step instructions on how to not see myself as a complete waste of air. I wish I could love myself, it seems I can temporarily do that when I'm with someone, but when my self esteem begins to leave, I know that's when it's going to end. I'd rather be left alone than be able to predict the end of my happiness. My 11:11 wishes, my blown away lashes, my lucky pennies, leave me. The wishes came true, they did, but didn't last as long as I wanted them to. I guess I'm my own fortune teller, in some way.
So, I ask myself, "Will I make it?" Because I know things are supposed to get better, and I know these downhills will eventually level out, but if I get low enough, I'm afraid there is not coming back up.
