#maybe this is just vent posting but g-d i'm so done with it

[that-stone-butch]

transphobic family members are one thing but it's so hard to deal with family that are convinced they're supportive but are bumbling, misinformed, or forgetful and will still misgender/deadname you nearly as frequently, but when you call them out or ask them to try harder all of a sudden you're the bad guy. i have heard some of the most fucked up shit from 'liberal' parents using the 'correct' terminology about trans people, where what they're actually saying is deeply fucked up. like my step mom excitedly telling me she saw 'an afab man' at the market and explaining how she could tell.

'i don't want to be in a room where i will be misgendered/deadnamed/deal with transphobia' applies even if it happens 'on accident' every single time you see someone. and it's a healthy boundary to set. but good g-d some people would rather kick and scream and cry than acknowledge that they're hurting you, even unintentionally.

[littlestpersimmon]

Just one more vent post and I will do my best to be "normal" but *scream* ever since he died the day did not end!! It has been one long horrible dream, like literally it feels like a dream. All I can think about is.. when I was 9, mom "died".. iirc she was dead for almost 15 minutes and my aunts screamed and screamed and then transfered her to a private hospital and she was miraculously revived.. its all I can think about like.. no something has to be done, they can probably do something still for him.. like bring him back.. its both been 4 days and also only 1 day, because that day did not end..!! I can't think, I can't work, I can't eat. It happened so quick- what do you mean he is dead, I was just talking to him. I owe him two dollars. My support network cannot understand how I could possibly grieve someone who has hurt me in so many terrible ways, but Jews have never been in the business of condemnation, I've always been taught that there is no hell, not so sure about heaven either, and I sat with my cousin, and we both cried and thought of ourselves as "bad survivor apologists" because we both don't feel an iota of resentment or anger, we just felt anguish and dazedness- literally like walking in a dream. Maybe I am using his death as an excuse to play video games all day, but on g-d I have never felt such paralyzing anxiety and agony and restlessness like this. He will never wake up again. It feels like, I don't know. All I can think about is how I owe him two dollars, how he was a penniless drug addict who spent his last 5 dollars to buy me a pencil with a butterfly on a spring bouncing on its top. Its like this total darkness where my brain is not registering anything else, All I can think about is please g-d. Pleade g-d.. please HaShem... how hard I'm trying to make my way across that darkness to get my damn pencil back.