Hatred of things, Part 2. The Dysphoria.

I didn’t always feel hate.  Not before school started.  At least not that I can remember.  I really don’t remember those younger years other than bits and pieces.  I liked legos I guess, liked the Thundercats.  Liked hanging out with my girl cousins.  I don’t remember how I acted about going to school the first time.  I rode the bus, one kid got on and started crying immediately.  Anxiety I realize now.  I was indifferent about going to school.  No one really messed with me much in kindergarten that I remember.  I loved my teacher.  I actually loved school, it was fun.  I loved getting to play with toys I never would own.  I kind of wondered why the girls were doing their own thing separate from the boys.  They were in their own class room completely separate from all the boys.  I always thought this was strange.  I tried to make friends, or play with the other kids.  Never really lasted longer than a few minutes.  I usually found I was by myself playing instead of having friendships with the other boys.  At the time I didn’t really care that much.  I just wanted to play.  We had reading time with the 5th graders reading to us.  I remember one girl would always read to me and I would be sad when she was not there to read.  I enjoyed her company much more than just trying to make friends with the other boys.

I never felt singled out, but knew I was alone.  1st grade was hell.  I had my first fights ever in first grade.  I had my first emotional breakdown in 1st grade.  “Why did people suddenly hate me?” I wondered.  I know some of my grades suffered for it.    The boys picked the fights, the girls ignored me.  I isolated.  This continued as years went by.  Picked on the entire time.  I would be alone, they would tease.  Sometimes the girls would get in on it too.  Some teachers hated me as well.  I was the awkward dumb kid who couldn’t get good grades on things or was annoying to deal with.

I loved the summers with my cousins.  It actually felt like I could be more of my true self around them.  I didn’t have to isolate, and they were right next door.  I never got to sleep over except one time with one of my girl cousins when we visited from a state away.  There was nowhere else for me to sleep except in her room.  Dad let it slide because he knew we always played together and thought it was no big deal.  We went to her room to play.  They had a bunch of clothes in bags because they had just moved in.  My cousin wanted to play dress up.  I was a little embarrassed to try on the girls stuff, but she said please.  I don’t remember much of the details from that because it’s fuzzy now.  But I was wearing girl’s clothes for the first time and it didn’t feel wrong.  I loved it.  We had to get ready for bed.  She changed into pajamas, I had not changed yet.  She said, you can change if you want.  I didn’t want to.  She smiled and said, well just wear it to sleep in, so I did.  I woke up to the sounds of Super Mario 3 being played in the next room.  I wanted to play so bad.  I was obsessed with games even then.  I was about to get out of bed and remembered I was wearing that stuff to bed.  Knowing my brother and wanting to not be embarrassed, I took off the clothes in bed before I got out of it so no one would see.  After that, when I would play with my cousins, I would sometimes asked to be referred to as a she.  Sometimes I was their sister, sometimes I picked a name.  When it did happen, I gave me butterflies in my stomach.  It felt good to not be called a boy.  I started to cross dress when the parents were not home or when mom was asleep.  I tried to be very careful.  I even hid clothes in my room so I could put them on at night and change out of them before I got out of bed.

Eventually these things faded as I became friends with another boy.  He was sort of the outcast type.  Didn’t talk to anyone.  I decided to talk to him.  We became friends and would hang out a lot.  He was from a Baptist family.  I eventually started going to their church.  I saw what these things called sins were.  Eventually saw that, according to them, the feelings I had were sinful.  They did not know about it of course.  I never told another soul about it.  I never really thought about it much other than putting it in the back of my mind.  Any feeling of it coming back, pushed to the back of my mind where I can’t think about it.  It was always there.  Reminding me in small ways:  you’re not tough like the other boys, playing in the dirt is not fun, why can’t I like these colors (pastels, pinks, purples), why do all the boys think the other girls are stupid and weird, etc.  During this time, I still cross dressed.  Now with guilt.

Eventually I even believed it.  I decided during puberty I would never be with anyone.  I didn’t want to be.  I prayed to not be with anyone in a relationship.  I got my wish for a very long time.  I was continuously made fun of, picked on because I was different.  I didn’t always enjoy the boy activities.  I sucked at them and didn’t care to take an interest.  I hated undressing in front of them.  I hated how boys acted toward one another.  I would get really upset when they treated me that way as well.  They noticed, and the bullying became relentless.  I honestly can’t remember how many fights I was in.  Too many to count.  My anger grew, my frustration built.  By puberty I was a ball of anger and hate.  I wanted nothing to do with no one ever.  I was isolated and alone.  I put out a vibe of DON’T FUCK WITH ME.  Some still did, most avoided me.

I started to notice girls.  It was much different than attraction though.  Now I realize it was jealousy and longing to be something I am not.  I looked more at their clothes and how they did their faces than their body parts.  Sex was not an interest to me at the time.  When guy friends started to bring up sex or things of that nature, I said, not interested.  This did NOT help the teasing.  A whole new thing to make me feel like an outsider.

A girl who had crush on me that I didn’t notice.  I didn’t understand it.  I awkwardly ignored it or didn’t realize she was interested.

I eventually had my first girlfriend (different girl).  She would pass me sweet little notes.  It was cute and a little scary.  She became annoying.  I pushed her away.  I didn’t understand why she wanted to be around me at the time, all of the time.  I wanted to be alone.  I got back with her in high school.  I was starting to feel the effects of loneliness.  I was tired of being alone by now.  I was mature enough to have feelings for other people.  I finally knew the difference between friendships and otherwise.  I still hated most people, but she still liked me, so I couldn’t ignore it.  I had my first kiss from a girlfriend with her.  She was still annoying, but she liked me.  No one liked me at the time.  It eventually lead to her sexual interest.  I was not interested in sex still.  I tried to be interested, (fooled around a bit) but it just was not working out.  The entire thing was strange to me.  From the Christian background, it was “wrong” before marriage.  I didn’t understand how things worked for her.  I was a virgin with little to no education on what was going on with all of it other than I could die.  I could die if she has any diseases I don’t know about.  I was scared to do stuff.  I eventually had other girlfriends with similar results.  Sex has always been taboo to me.  It’s still embarrassing to talk about.  Layers of shaming, years of being told of the infections or bad things that happen.  During this time, I still cross dressed when no one was around.

During all these things.  My gender dysphoria was in the back of my mind.  Is this what it’s like to be a guy?  I was really confused about my feelings and didn’t know how to act.  I knew I was not like other guys.  I didn’t want to be either.  I knew I was me.  I swore off of relationships again.  I figured I am ill equipped for them.  I am unlikable…my world view soured.  I hated the world.  The thoughts in the back of my mind, a tumor of pressure that I would ignore.  All of everything sucks, push it back.  Listen to music loudly to turn off its noise, drown it out, smoke so much that you can’t see it.

I started to write.

Little poems here and there, sometimes lyrics.  Felt the relation to the lyrics in music deeply.  Songs about strife, stuff most metal bands sing about you know.  They spoke to me.  I wanted to be loved, but felt I could never have it.  So hate and loathing were all that were left.

Thank goodness for friends and meeting someone who helped me escape from my hole.  I love you Lost.  You are my best friend, my most trusted person, and life partner.  I am sorry for all of my bottled up hate and frustration.  You have helped me rid a lot of it.  I am sorry you had to experience it firsthand.  I was wrong to say the things I did, to do the bad things I’ve done out of anger and frustration.  I have been a loose cannon for a long time.  I’ve hurt you because I’ve been hurt, crushed by life way before you met me.  All I can do is try to heal, try to be a better person to you.  I hope I am making headway.  Not every day is easy, but I feel like I actually have the tools to not be the way I was.  To not default to hating everything.

Friends, people who I’ve trusted, talked to late nights, expressed empathy and pain with.  I thank you too.  Thank you for listening, supporting, relating, advising, etc.  I love listening to your stories and supporting you in what ways I can.  I am deeply grateful for you listening to my issues, concerns.  I am still not 100% ok.  Everyone has their issues and difficulties to deal with.  Their dreams that they chase, their successes.  I am lucky to be a part of that.  I am lucky to see someone I care about do well.  Talk of family on here it’s tossed around a bit.  I honestly feel though, with my whole heart, that I have a truly great online family.  I’ve had some bad spots here and there.  All families do.  But I have never met such a supportive group of people.  Such a great community of people with inspiring stories, dreams, trials and just life to overcome.  I feel as a group that we are a bit closer now than ever.  Honesty tends to do that.  I’ve bonded with so many of you.  I have so many friends that it’s hard to feel isolated and alone anymore.  I hope I can be there for you as you have been there for me.  I hope I can be supportive and helpful in all the things you do as you have for me.  I don’t feel I owe it to anyone.  I want to do that.  I want to do that for my friends and family.  And I will.

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