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Some girls have dicks, okay?

You know what's really hard? Being a Pansexual Gender Queer Transgender Woman who has a slight personality disorder meaning there is something else that likes to hop out from behind the curtain sometimes because Elizabeth feels like I can't handle things. She's that older sister that bullies you and makes belittles you by laughing when you try to stand up for yourself and she has this way of making me forget that I'm not the one in control. I'll feel myself fade into the background and I'll still be cognizant and watching and listening to myself. She laughs without real humor all obnoxious and in your face. She's full of herself, always boasting herself so she can pretend she isn't in the body of a girl who ways 688 and brings on delusions like she isn't binging and she's perfectly fine. She's a defense mechanism for when I remember bad things and it gets hard for me, and the worst part is, when I put my foot down, when I tell her no, and that I'm not going to fade into the background she starts muddling up my mind. Even now she's taking away the sentences I'm thinking. I hate living with her. It's gotten so bad that when I come back I don't know if she's ever truly gone. These past few weeks have been hard because she's just there. She's always there pressing in and it's easier to deal with than you'd think sometimes. It's about managing thoughts, avoiding situations and being true to myself, even though I barely know who I am because she's been there for so long that my true self hasn't had a chance to come out and breathe and speak until recently when in therapy her hold was fractured enough that I started hyperventilating because my head space grew so much bigger and I could feel my subconscious mind working and clicking. I could feel my brain dumping chemicals into my body and the responses my flesh would have. I was feeling. I can keep her back there, I can live. But I have to remember to do things. It's minute to minute and lately it's been too hard to live like that. To remember the pieces of who I truly am that I've discovered along the way. It's about living healthy because she springs at the chance to live the wrong ways. I'm going to try this again, after having fallen off the wagon because I fucked up and got weak and let her come back. I'm going to do this again. It's far from easy, but I need to be me. I need to be out and breathing because I haven't been able to and she's been illuding me and distracting me and taking from me long enough. Sharing your head with someone like her is horrible. And the worst part is people love her. She's everyones best friend, always focusing on their problems so I can't focus on my own. Always having an opinion, always nosing into things so she can't take the time to look at herself and start hating. There is something else there too. In my head I picture a younger me, when I was still a little boy and thought my world wasn't so bad even when my heart kept breaking. He sits on a stool somewhere in my mind in front of a giant block of marble and as my journey goes on he chissels and cuts away pieces that will form the end image of my body. I've realized something. Something that I haven't gotten a big hold of yet. But I'm actually not angry with my body. Not the being unhealthy part because that's going to need to go, just is. But Some women have dicks? I guess that's what I'm saying. Being Trans is such a giant umbrella term that it's hard to actually know where you will fall and the shape you will take once you know who exactly you are. Do I want long hair? Yep. Do I identify as female? Yep. Do I want a higher voice and a bigger chest and painted lips and long legs in heels where beautiful clothes? Of Course. Do I hate my dick? In reality... no. I actually don't. I want to marry and man and adopt kids and be called mom but I'm going to live this life my way. That's just that.

#Transgender #Gender fluid #personality disorder #Live #Living different