Date: Tuesday, 07/25/2023
Mood: guh
[TWS: Dysphoria n suchlike + Short Grooming ment + Bunny Dying]
My psychiatrist appointment went... not so well. My mom spoke for me the whole time and the lady referred to me like I wasn't even there. I like that kind of thing, where I'm just guided along through things brainlessly, but not like this... I guess it was my fault, seeing as how I could barely get a word out the whole time. I was exhausted as soon as I woke up. When I was on the way home, I saw a dumb tweet and got more angry about it than I should've, too... I could've felt my emotions at the appointment, but no, I had to feel everything properly the minute I made it out. Typical.
I had to go to a uniform sizing for my marching band, and the only undershirt I had was too small for me and pretty revealing in the chest area. I usually don't mind that at home, and on occasional days, but sometimes the hate just hits like a brick and today was that day. Meanwhile my irl who's on T is looking more correct every day. You can see his adam's apple pretty clearly by now. My neck is too chubby for that, and I keep growing my hair out like an idiot.
Of course, I know that there's no "one right way" to be transmasculine, but he checks all the boxes perfectly. He knew since he was a kid, he has a professional diagnosis, and he looked like a guy from the very beginning. He just acts more like a man than I ever have, too. Even outside of those types of things, he's smarter and more attractive and quicker in the head than me. And I'm happy for him! I'm just a terrible, envious person.
I'm sure he thinks I'm just a trender though, and occasionally I do too. Am I just lying to myself? Why would I want to feel so shitty all the time? Is this all some kind of elaborate game I'm playing with myself, just to feel special? When I was a kid, I used to vent these feelings sexually, so finding new mechanisms is a little bit hard when I got so used to one way of dealing with it in my youth (that damaged me, I'm sure).
Outside of that, things also aren't going so great. I had a lot of chores today, and of course I procrastinated, so my mom isn't letting me onto my phone until I clean out my closet (an absolute cesspool of bullshit) tomorrow. I'll do my best, but there's just so much stuff in there... I make it out like I'm a cleanly person, but I really live in squalor. My room looks like a 10 year old girl's room with twice the junk. I enjoy cleaning other people's things and living spaces, not my own. I'm not sure why.
The worst part of that means that I won't be able to talk to Cris hardly at all, not till I gut that closet. And that could take a whole week. I don't have a whole weeks time, either: I have a ref to make and freakishly long band practices (2pm to 7pm? What the fuck? Just add another day to band camp, at that point!!!) and, of course, more chores and appointments and therapy. I just want to curl up and watch my dearest play games again. That was the highlight of my day today. He was as sleepy as I was. If we ever meet, the first thing I want to do is take a nap with him,, even if he thinks I snore, which I don't think I do.
Here's a final, kinda poetic thing: today, me and my parents were in the kitchen (dad was making coffee, mom was working on sewing patterns, and I was washing dishes), and we all saw a tiny bunny outside of the window. It was so small, it could've fit into our palms. We all pointed it out to one another, but it turned out we were pointing three different places: there were actually three tiny bunnies, and we had all spotted a different one.
Dad looked distraught, and I asked why. He said that they were living in our yard. I thought he was just upset about the fact that they would eat our plants or something, so I laughed, but then he said that wasn't it. In reality, when baby bunnies live in our yard and he mows the grass on the lawn, they always run under the mower, into the blades. It leaves blood everywhere.
That was sad, but confusing too. I asked him why that happened, 'cause I thought the bunnies would run away, but he just shrugged. He guessed that they get panicked, and desperately searching for somewhere to go, they dash straight into the machine that's frightening them. I'm sure there's some kind of metaphor in there, but I'm too tired to think about it.
I hope every bunny lives forever. Goodnight.