August 3,
I was looking in the mirror again today doing the usual; tying in various positions, each more desperate than the last, to cover my breasts and vagina. To see what makes me comfortable. Problem is, and I know I've said this before, whenever I'm in-front of a mirror I feel a disconnect with my body. Not in the way of looking at a body that isn't mine - I know it's my body, nothing can change that - but rather, looking at a body I can not connect with. That I do not recognize. And I'm well aware of the fact that it just sounds like I'm tiptoeing around saying "it's not my body," cause I am. Saying those words, even really admitting to myself that I have those feelings would, to me, make me feel 'more trans,' if that makes sense. It would seem like I was finally embracing my gender identity, and I don't think I'm ready to do that yet.
I mean, I can't say for sure whether I would be happier with a dick, or whether I even want one. I think I do, but mom says I'm young and it could all just be a phase. And I can understand that, I have gone through phases before. But none were as extreme, or as sudden as these feelings.
For now, the only thing I'm stressed about is getting my binder safely from Ella. I'm not worried about actually getting it - Ella is bringing a decoy present to the party so that if my parents ask what I got I can show them something. I'm more worried about the size. I told her to get one size up from the binder Jasper let me try on; it was a little small and again, I've got asthma. But it wasn't that tight. I mean, what if the binder Ella brings is too loose and I'm back a square one. I'm honestly so fucking stressed about it because the thought of being so close and losing everything is terrifying. It might actually break me if it doesn't fit - I cannot physically describe the pain and horror I would feel. But I guess, if I had to, I would say it would feel like I'm being held at gunpoint while also dangling off the side of a very steep cliff. Just the feeling of helplessness and knowing that whatever you do, this is the end and there's no point in trying anymore.
Cause what if it doesn't fit? I can't exactly take it to my mom to get it returned. And Chris isn't being very helpful in all this either. He's got money, why isn't he buying me this? Why do I feel like I have to work around my family? Like I have to try to accept them instead of the other way around? It's all bullshit. I can't believe that while I'm left to rot within my own skin they all get to move on like it's just some fucking phase I'll be over in a week. News flash! It's been a little longer than a week and I'm still fucking dying inside. And the one person I thought I could count on in my family has a real big fucking help. (Note the incredible amount of sarcasm.)
Actually, Chris just got home from work, so I guess it's time for dinner. I might write later, if I don't forget; I wanna finish these thoughts. I'm gonna go calm down.
August 7,
So, today was my birthday! Wooo! The big 16! All of my 4 friends were there, well everyone except Jasper cause he's sooooo antisocial. All of the gifts were amazing, I was so happy. I haven't felt happy in awhile, the change was nice. But undoubtedly the most amazing gift was Ella's; she got me a John Mulaney shirt, which I love so much, but the BINDER OH MY FUCKING GOD!!! I really cannot believe how stressed about it I was, and all for nothing (thank God.) It fit! And it looks amazing! Ella said I looked very handsome, which is a generic compliment I know, but that was all it took to make my day! And even though I haven't been wearing my binder, the security of having it feels amazing. It's really calming to know that if I ever needed it, the binder would be right there. Tucked away in my sock drawer.
I really feel, for the first time in a very long while, at peace with myself. I feel happy and I can't contain it.
I have one, I finally have a binder to call my own.
I want to write more, believe me I do. But I'm writing this from the inside of my closet (no pun intended) trying to get away from the party. I don't think I can stay up here for long, unfortunately. And it's not that I don't want to be down there, I just wanted to write this down before my euphoria wore off and I was back to the same old me.
Someone just shouted my deadname, guess that means it's time for cake. I can't tell with all the loud noise who shouted it, but I really hope it wasn't one of my friends. As much as they're trying with the name and pronouns, they slip up a lot. And I appreciate the effort, really I do, but it feels like a knife in my chest when it comes from them. Anyways, back to the party! Wish me luck! :)
August 11,
Today was the first day of mandatory therapy with Chloe in about a month*. In fact, the only reason I was able to take a month off in the first place was because I am about to start a new school and Chloe didn't think I needed the 'extra stress,' which is bullshit. I'm not antisocial, even though that's how people at school see me, I just don't get close to people very easily. All the friends I have now are people I've known since I was 5. I'd be willing to make friends with people at this new school, but I already know that they'll see me as an outcast before I even say a word.
Chloe says I don't open up to people cause I have trust issues, I don't know if that's true.
She doesn't know a lot about me to be fair. I mean, I usually don't corporate during our sessions, and she doesn't know that I've been thinking a lot about gender identity. The closest we have ever gotten to a productive meeting is when I accidentally brought my sketchbook and she forced me to hand it to her. I don't remember what she asked me after looking though it, I was a little tired from crying, but that's when I promised myself I would never mention trans shit to her. I mean, I'm a minor so anything related to that kind of stuff gets told to my parents, right? I don't know if that's how it works, but she still isn't getting anything out of me, no matter how hard she tries.
I was really glad she decided to give me a break though, it feels well deserved, even if it was only a month. She said she gave me the break because I needed to focus on starting my new school, but school hasn't started yet so I really don't understand the point of whatever it was we did today. She said it was just a checkup to make sure that I was all prepared for my, and I cannot stress how annoyed by this I am, all girls catholic school. Like we're not even catholic, why the actual fuck am I going to ______^.
I honestly hate therapy with a fucking passion. And now that my break's over I'm going to be starting it up once a week again. f u c k t h i s. I really don't know what anyone expects me to gain from my sessions with Chloe, I mean I've been basically giving her the most generic answers I can think of for the past year now, and I still feel the same way I did when we started this bullshit.