this is me. in my bedroom, sitting in my usual spot. i havent done my hair or done makeup or put on clothes i look good in, i havent manipulated the lighting so i look perfect. this is what i really look like, andthat is important because i want to tell you a story.
my name is Dylan. i’m 15 years old. i use they/them pronouns.
i was born into a family that, when they uncovered the fact that i was nonbinary and was interacting with people online under my preffered name and pronouns, tried to support me.
i was also born into a volatile, manipulative, emotionally abusive family in which my mother acted under the assumption that she was trying her best because she loved me.
i have a myriad of mental illnesses, which got worse as i got older. when i was in 6th grade, i fell into a deep depression and i couldnt get myself out of that rut.
when i was in 8th grade, my anxiety skyrocketed and from general anxiety i then added on social anxiety and generalized anxiety.
that was when i first began self-harming as a regular coping skill. it was not severe at the time and i usually found less harmful methods of dealing with my feelings- but they were still harmful.
september of 9th grade, i first attempted. it was nonharmful and i went to the emergency room but was discharged that morning. i made two other attempts after that, and only one landed me in the emergency room again- and i was put int outpatient therapy.
i’m not “better” from my mental illnesses. i’m never going to “get better” from most of them. i am going to be fighting my whole life to keep myself from drowning.
i’m strong enough to fight through this.
i am queer, trans, and mentally ill. and i will not hide ever again. my bones will not be broken.