Gender things and sexuality ramblings below, just so you know. You may skip if you'd like to {please do}. I just needed to type.
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My village... Which cannot even be called anything remotely “town-like”, mainly due to being able to count the families {and generations thereof} who live here on one hand.
Anyway- It's a small village in both the good ways and the bad.
I was ascertained of this today when I had to switch therapists due to insurance issues or some such, and was told by who I believed to be a sweet old woman that I Wasn't Gay, Wasn't A Boy, and Is Just In A Phase. {Or alternatively, Just A Normal Teenager {Who Is Still Curious/Experimenting/Wrong. And a Very Special Young Woman Who Has To Deal With A Difficult Mind And Body. Among other things.}}
{{“Wrong” was used quite a bit, as were the less-comfortable pronouns and use of my legal name.}}
Also that I should be closer to my parents, absolutly cannot live on my own {despite the fact that I have been for almost two years, that my parents are both equally abusive or neglective in their own unique ways, and the ones who kicked my out in the first place {and God Forbid I'm happier that way}}, and am defensive and rude.
Defensive I understand, and I know that I certainly am, but... I didn't quite get rude, unless she was hoping I'd be praising my parents instead of retelling the events of daily life? I wouldn't say I love my parents, or consider them “family”, whatever that is, but... I respect them. I certainly didn't tell her what I could have; but I sort of shut down after the thirty minutes of homophobia/transphobia I just had to endure.
I know who and what I am, ma'am, and you evidently do not. But I know you mean well, so I can't really be mad at you, which only leaves myself to blame in some twisted, self-hating cycle of unnecessary stupidity.
Eff.
It's been almost five or six hours after the session, and I'm still a shaky, dysphoric, incredibily sad ball of angst. But I don't want to bother people in real life about it- and sort of can't considering what time it is- so to the Internet this goes~
I'm just tired of feeling like... I'm wrong, or a freak, or just really screwed up in some way. I hate it, but being surrounded by that mindset day-in, day-out... Gods, I just don't know anymore. I mean I do, but...
I'm sorry. I'm not making any sense. |D;;; At this point I'm just hoping I'll be back to normal tomorrow~ I still have commissions to do, items to draw, and I can't work when I'm all depressed. <3
I still miss my old, crazy man I had prior to her, though. ;-; He was awesome, and totally supportive, but evidently quite expensive.
...But in another note, I suddenly want to paint rainbow-colored, eye-bleeding monstrosities now, which I think means my mood is picking up. So yay. :D














