How To Say Two Words (That Will Change Your Life)

     Here I sit, my heart racing, wondering how I can say something that will change my life forever. I've always been a very family-oriented person. I mean, how could I not be, raised with a big family on both sides. I love having family around, including those I have selected as family. How is it that words can altar your relationship with family members? I mean, they aren't horrible words, or words used out of malice. Never the less, saying them can end in many ways. One being really supportive and loving, and the other ending, just ending. How do you tell someone that is supposed to love you unconditionally these words. Especially when they've specifically spoken ill about other people that have said such words. 

     I was raised in a semi-religious household, and many other members of my family had a Christian-based faith. Growing up in the 90's when being gay was starting to be seen more in the media, I would always hear how ungodly, or sinful it was. How little boys shouldn't act like little girls. But also hear that girls can do anything they set their mind to, even act like boys. Boys can't like boys, that's disgusting and a sin. Boys can't like girly colors, can't dress feminine, can't act feminine, can't can't can't can't... But I'm not a boy. Sure, I have male parts, but I'm not male. I've always been female. How is being myself bad? How is it ungodly and sinful? This life isn't something I chose. Who would choose to endure this sort of life? 

     It took me a while to scrub the lies I was taught growing up, and I still hide my true self, even from the ones I came out to. I'm so afraid of being my authentic self, because it will damage relationships that I hold dear. I have those that are supportive and love me. But I have those that have no idea who I really am. I hate that I keep this secret from the ones I love and care about. I feel as if I have no choice. Why has society put down people like me? Why are people being killed for being like me? Why are we hated? Why do people fear us? Why do people think we don't exist, are mentally ill, or abominations? I just don't understand.

     I feel like I have to wait, for the ones I fear rejection from, to die before I can be myself. That shouldn't have to be an option. I shouldn't have to dress a certain way in public, so I don't get abused, harassed and etc. I always hide my feminine belongings when certain family members come to visit, and I shouldn't have to. I shouldn't have to hide who I am. I shouldn't have to placate to this version of me, that they think I am. Why am I so afraid? I have supportive people in my life. Why do I worry that other's, that don't know, will disown and abandon me? Should it matter? If they don't care enough about me, to love and respect me, then why should it matter if they leave?

     There are family members who have passed, that I regret not telling them. They never got to know who I am, who I really am. They only saw me in certain ways. I am afraid to say TWO words to my father. It would kill me to lose him. But it hurts me every time I hear him call me son. I wish I could just tell him, and have no fear of him rejecting me, or disowning me. I don't want to hear how my life is a sin, or I just have a diseased mind. He claims to love me unconditionally, no matter what. I fear there are conditions that would change that. Why should it matter what he thinks? Why does it matter so much to me? I shouldn't care if he doesn't want anything to do with me. 

     Why is it so hard to tell him, "I'm Transgender."

I F*cked Up

There are times when I get so excited about things, that I forget some details. Like offering things that aren't mine, technically mine. In the moment, all I can think about is doing something amazing with friends. I can't wait to show them, and I'm only in the moment. The back of my head is telling me I shouldn't, it isn't mine to give, or share. I shove that voice into a dark corner and stay in my tiny little happy spot. I love to share, and to give. I love seeing others excited and happy, especially from something I did. But I was in the wrong. I accepted the responsibility 100%, for it was solely my idea. The moment, the question was asked, my heart sank, and my body went cold... as it normally does, when I know, I am in trouble. I don't like being in trouble, not just because of the anxiety flares, but I don't like disappointing people that see me a certain way. I've worked hard to build a trust with these people, and I've chipped it. I feel so ashamed and so upset. I couldn't convey it in the moment, just because of my anxiety, it kept me frozen. All I could do was nod and give small responses. I don't like confrontation, even if it doesn't involve me. Though I don't do a lot of things wrongly, as in being in the wrong, I am always afraid of getting into trouble. Whether it be with friends, family, or work. I stay in fear, and that drags me further down into my dark depths of depression and anxiety. Yes, in the moment, I had a notion of knowing I was doing something wrong, but I did not intend any ill-will, or anything harmful by it. I just hope I didn't lose all what I gained... 

Walk A Mile in My Shoes

Sometimes, emotions are overbearing, too over-cumbersome. Some people can handle them day to day. Even I manage to hold it together, most days... and then the other days, oh the other days. I have times where I find it hard to get out of bed. My mind tells me I should just stay in bed, the world can go on without my presence. Depression covers me like a wet blanket, so heavy and overwhelming. A lot of the time I don't understand why I feel the way I do. Why am I crying? Why can't I get out and spend time with friends and family? Then come the anxiety attacks. No one has talked to me, or responded to that last text. Did I do something wrong? Did I upset someone unintentionally? I'm going to lose them forever. They don't love me. They don't care about me. My diagnosis has to be wrong, I can't have PTSD. I must be BiPolar or Schizophrenic, that runs in my family. Are the doctors wrong? Should I even went to something I won't be able to afford? Should I take the medication? Is it really working? All these questions I keep asking myself. On the outside, you wouldn't know what I'm suffering, or that I'm suffering at all. I give off a happy "vibe" and try and remain outward positive. I work hard at making others happy, or getting them to laugh. I smile all the time, but most of the time they are lies. I do need help, and I wish to accept it, but is it worth it? Will it really work?