SINcerely Three Shitposts

40 (A/N rant sry)

Hey guys so I've been going through some shit and I just feel really down and depressed. So my sister and I have been fighting more often, but today when she was yelling at me, she turned to my mom and said something, referring to me by she/her pronouns. As you may know, I'm trans male, so this hurt me a lot. I lightly corrected her, but she retaliated with "no. SHE. You're a SHE." I screamed at her telling her she can't tell me my pronouns, to which she responded with calling me by both my birth name and pronouns. All I could do was stand there defenseless as tears ran down my cheeks. My weak ass ran upstairs and started sobbing on the floor. So after around ten minutes i heard my family laughing while I was locked in my room sobbing my eyes out.

It hurts, ya know? Hurts knowing how little your family supports you. When people you don't know invalidate you by calling you something you're not. I froze up in English when someone used she pronouns for me. It hurts knowing no matter what you do, you don't pass. No matter how short your hair is, or how many binders you wear, you're still seen as someone you're not. I normally wear two binders, all at the tightest they can go. I'm currently wearing four.  In all honesty, I'd rather kill myself than be called a girl, slowly cut off blood flow to my heart, crush my ribs with the pressure of my binders. I held a razor blade to my wrist not even an hour ago. I've never cut. I wonder what it feels like. Can this little piece of metal really do something like that? I didn't know. And I still don't.

I find it all ironic I was, and still am, wearing a Connor Murphy cosplay while feeling this way. Of course, my mom uses Dear Evan Hansen as a reason behind my depression, saying it's "inspiring me to want to kill myself." Frankly, the only thing doing that is my family. The thing that stopped me from cutting was fear. Fear of what would happen after I died. Would there even be a funeral? And if there is, what name would they call me by? What pronouns? Reason of death? Would they know? And what would they find? I don't know. I didn't want to die and be remembered as the reason I left. So I didn't do it. I just sucked it up and did the next best thing: search my room for my binders. I found four and two sports bras. I'm wearing them all. I feel the tightness around my top half. It hurts, but it's better than being something I'm not. I'll bind like this until I don't need to, until I'm ultimately validated by those close to me. Until I can walk into the bathroom of my choice and not be stared at. Until I don't need to tell people my pronouns, it's just obvious.

But, whatever, right? Just another trans kid crying about how no one likes him. Classic. Just another trans kid complaining about not having top surgery, or not passing well enough, or people calling him a she. How original. I want to kill myself. I want to so so so bad. There are two things holding me back. The main one is the same reason I want to die. The second is my best friend, Maya. Holy shit she's been such a support for me. Maya's not a friend, she's fucking family. And me saying that reminds me how unaccepting my blood family is. They tell me they're not transphobic. My dad refuses to use my pronouns and name. My sister tells me that I'm a girl. My mom justifies it all. The hell is that?

All in all, I just feel really depressed and need a high fucking hug. You all probably want me to stop complaining, so I will. Thanks for listening.