#moral of story you can post dumbass shit on tumblr even without being drunk

[whitelotusherald]

TL;DR it sucks living with depression and having a constant identity crisis; unnecessarily long and personal post so feel free to skip it! I might delete it later so for the love of everything don't like/rb not that it's worthy of any of those lol. Right now I just feel an urge to write about this otherwise I'm just gonna blow up from all this repressed shit. I usually do such things on twitter but that's really not a place to write a whole essay. This whole thing's gonna be as collected and coherent as a book being torn into the smallest pieces then thrown into a hurricane.

TW for way too many things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

First thing first: I know most of my problems are that of a first world spoiled brat. Many people struggle even paying the bills. Thankfully currently I have no problem with that (yet). I'm living with my father who's strict but not a deadass conservative and puts up with me and my difficult personality.

Okay so.

Where do I start.

I've been battling with depression since forever. 15+ years. It started back in high school when I had a godawful difficult time, especially during my final year and even attempted suicide. I can't really recall what triggered it. I just wanted to quit. Maybe it was the pressure, final year meant I should've figured out already what I want from life, what the hell do I want to study in depth later on, and don't get me started on the final exams. (We were the first ones to have new type of exams and nobody really knew what to expect.) The most bizarre thing about it was how I've never told anyone about it except two people, both of whom I've known only online. I sent them a mail early on the morning on that certain day, like 4 am or so. At 5 I got a reply from one of them - he told me how he also struggled with depression but went to therapy, it's not something to be ashamed of, and he tried to encourage me not to give up. That really saved me on that day. His words kept echoing in my head and are the only thing that kept me from attempting suicide in these past years. As he passed away since then, I've always been like „I can't do it, I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye in the afterlife”. He's been my safety net even though he's no longer with us.

I've been having ups and downs. Whenever I had something to keep me busy - university, fantranslating, moving, working - 99% of the time I was okay. The 1% was mostly due to extreme level of stress and being tired. But whenever I have time to stop and think about my life, I'm just so done with everything. Being unemployed for years I had all the time on my hands to think and had been hitting low points more and more frequently. And it didn't improve after I got a job.

As a kid they always told me how exceptionally talented I was for trivial stuff like learning to read extremely early, learning English since kindergarden, having a good memory and not having major issues with school. I've always been told I would have no problems in life. Too bad they never realized that while I'm good at recalling a gazillion things I'd once read, I've never cared to dig deeper in ANY field so my knowledge is shallow af. At the end of high school I had no idea what I wanted so I became an English / history major. Too bad I failed at history (having the worst teachers & boring lectures & zero motivation didn't help) so I only have a BA in English. Which is the most useless diploma EVER. Had I been born a few years earlier, it would've been super cool, but I just had to be born at a time when most people speak English fluently even in my country. I've been trying to convince myself I'm good at translation and sometimes it works but sometimes I realize how mediocre my work is. Most of the time I feel like I let my parents down for not achieving anything with my diploma. For not achieving anything in life. I had had a deadend job for 5 years and even quit that once they pulled some openly shameless tricks. (Btw I got my first job after trying for a year and a half. Back then everyone expected applicants to have 10 yrs of experience. After quitting I couldn't get a job because I had some experience but they supported fresh grads... I feel like I'm always at the wrong place at the wrong time.) Despite getting a new job I constantly fear they gonna realize they made a mistake, my knowledge is fake and gonna fire me. Or I mess up something big time and someone actually dies. (Yeah, nobody has made THAT huge mistake at my company so far, but you know. I might be the first. Insecurity ftw.)

I ain't better on a personal level either.

I'm as much of an introvert as one can be. I'm totally fine on my own, I really don't need personal contacts. Those take so much energy out of me. It's just exhausting. I don't even notice it, but after even a 10 minute long conversation I feel like okay, time to take a nap, that was enough people-time for a week. (Once I saw a documentary about lighthouse keepers who said the worst part of the job is the godawful solitude. I'd trade places with any of them.) This also means I'm NOT GOOD at relationships to say the least. At any kind. Never been able to communicate with my parents properly, telling them only the most necessary stuff and only at the last moment, if not one moment later. I'm not good at supporting friends if it's not some down-to-earth problem like paperwork or something. Romantic relationships? Lol. Tried dating but felt extremely awkward and uncomfortable at those times. I have had a few crushes tho. Never dared to make a move. I've always known my own worth and that all the guys could find someone better. Or at least someone with better looks and more normal hobbies. And what all my relationships share is that I tend to nope the fuck out of difficult situations instead of staying and trying to solve them. I just hope they solve themselves under the carpet where I sweep them. NEVER a good strategy. It's like being ten times of an asshole.

Identity crisis ain't helping either. I've been mistaken for a boy for... basically all my teen years. It stopped when I started to grow my hair. (Only because I'd become too lazy to get an appointment at the hairdresser. Another kind of hell for me. Getting in touch with people I don't know.) If I got a dollar every time they tried to shoo me out of public bathrooms I would be a millionaire by now. (I'm only half joking.) To be honest, it only bothered me because it was kind of humiliating that I had to explain myself. First year in high school a teacher called me young man and it became a running gag slash nickname. That also bothered me only on the level of being humiliated. I.e. I KNEW society expected me to act like a girl so I should act like I don't like being called a boy & should feel embarrassed about it. LGBTQ matters have never been discussed in a straightforward way. Queer folk were people you would joke about. Everyone is cishet here, right, let's make jokes about LGBTQ folks! So for the longest time I just sorta went with the flow, though never fell in line considering clothing and the fucked up traditional views of „a woman should marry and have kids end of story”. However I've always had these recurring thoughts – wishing I was rather born a boy, counting the fucking YEARS I have left to live with periods, wanting to have smaller breasts. (Two very telling stories: 1. seeing a movie about women fighting cancer one of them had to undergo mastectomy and felt awful about it. I felt sorry for her but at the same time at the back of my mind I kept thinking „if only you could get free surgery without having cancer”. Since then I got myself a bunch of binders which really do lower my dysphoria. 2. When they diagnosed me with uterine fibroids I only considered medication seriously for like.... 30 minutes? And then decided to have hysterectomy. One of my roommates at the hospital was surprised I'm not having a breakdown at all and acted all condescending, telling me I'm so young, naive and do not understand what this whole thing means. I wanted to LAUGH. It meant a free surgery. I could leave behind something that made me feel godawful for AGES.) To put a long story short: I've never felt any connection to womanhood and heck, hysterectomy was one of the best things that has ever happened to me. So on top of battling with depression and whatnot in my 20s I had to realize I'm anything but cisgender. Ever since then I've been trying to stash away the feeling that “wait, there's such a thing as transition”, knowing full well I wouldn't be a typical guy either. (Thank god gender and it's categories are flexible af so I can sign up being a demiguy lol.) In the past few years I've been reading queer YA literature to have at least some comfort books and they really do help a lot coming to terms with myself especially in this hostile and toxic environment my country has become in recent years.

I have absolutely zero idea how to balance or solve these things, currently I'm just having these „this is fine” moments while keeping to hit low points and honestly, I know I should seek help but therapists keep ghosting me as I try to get an appointment & therapy is anything but free. Well at least writing a deadass long blogpost IS free and tumblr won't turn me down like busy psychologists.