by a snoozing skerple » Wed Sep 16, 2015 5:48 pm
I just want to be friendly, make people happy but I feel like anyone I talk to is just glaring from their side, like they think I'm some creepy letch or something and they only stick around to be polite or avoid bitterness. Alwaysl like I have to apologize but it feels like anything I say will just make it worse. And what really annoys me is that there is literally nothing I've ever said that can't be interpreted disgustingly if you think long enough about it. Nothing. Putting an actual effort into acting like other people just makes it all the worse. Either I feel like scat for being a freakish moron, or I feel like scat because I'm trying to act how everyone else does and still feel like they're all glaring, like there's just nothing I can do to blend in and seem normal and feel like my mistakes are no more damning than anyone else's.
And randomly remembering today exactly why I dislike councillors. Therapists, psychologists, social workers.. any of the like. I just dislike them before I even meet them. Sure, my aunt pisses me off sometimes. But with her I'm not sure if she actually bothers me that much or if i just get mad at her by default. For things like that time I was picked up visiting a friend, under her mother's supervision, and not only told the officer who I don't even know why he was there my exact home street and address, but also pointed the way back to my house so he could drop me off.. and was later visited by a social worker who documented me as being lost and endangered, and tried to file against my mom. Pleasant, no? And my last high school councillor, who after nearly a decade still didn't know me in the slightest. I only realized in the last year there that she didn't care. A decade and she was still asking distanced questions as if we just met, and whenever I opened up to her she'd hastily change the subject and just move on like I was boring her. Most hjtherapist memory; the one who only cared about my dad. The first one I remember ever talking to, way back in elementary years. She was just so fixated on the fact he wasn't around. But he was never on my mind unless she brought it up. You know what was on my mind? Being beat up by other kids. Every damn day. I remember one of the kids at the bus stop area thought it would be fun to grab me by the arms in the summer and drag me across the pavement, to a point it's almost baffling I even have skin on my back. And being thrown under a sled and having a kid twice my weight jumping on it, so much fun. Of course, you know how teachers are- if it would get an adult arrested, it's okay for a kid to do. "Just ignore them, they'll get bored." I suppose I could have told mom or my uncle more, but I didn't want to worry her every single time someone bugged me and he was always playing some game. And my friends at the time didn't care about anything beyond toys and sassing their parents. But there was one person I could talk to- an adult. And she didn't work for the school, so of course she'd help. It was her job to help. But you know what shed say, every damn time?
"Let's talk about your dad instead."
I never want to waste my time with another one of their kind again. But oh yeah- I'm trans. I'm going to have to or else I'll never be allowed to transition. But trans specialists aren't there to "help" anyone, they're there to tell you you're confused or lying for a couple years and then judge you unworthy. I dang hate therapists and I dang hate my life.