#and i put it in my schools genderless bathroom on the lockers

[screamingahhh]

It's funny cause I wanted to get some artwork done this weekend but specifically the piece I started like 2 weeks ago

Shout-out to my one mutual who talked to me about postal all weekend

#postal 1 #postal redux #postal #postal 2 #postal 3 #postal 4 #postal 4 fanart #postal 4 no regerts #postal 3 fanart #postal 2 fanart #postal 1 fanart #postal fanart #fanart #uhhhhhm #i actually made myself and a friend a postal sticker #its duke nukem and postal dude kissing #and i put it in my schools genderless bathroom on the lockers #right next to this awful cuphead sticker that has fucking pickle rick on it #its still there so i count this as a win #running with scissors #rws

[siftingthroughmyself]

TW: SH, mentions of sexual assault of a minor, suic ideation, mentions of suic attempts and mom trauma

My view of myself has always been skewed. I was always different. I saw the differences in others. I found different people who were different in so many different ways. I saw our sameness. I saw the pain and confusion. How I responded wasn't who I am now.

I was mean in school. I hated monogrammed boots and backpacks and binders. I hated the design, the letters were in a weird order. It always brought up our names, middle, first and last. People knew who they were named after and what it meant. They told me about their parents picking the perfect name. I was always told such a pretty name, how delicate, like a flower and the sunrise.

In kindergarten, there was someone who shared a name with me and so I let people call me something else. I submitted to another version of myself in a different family, living a different life. I'm more than that child, I have pain that runs deep. I have rough edges. I was mean about the stupidest things. I reflected their vibes even if they weren't directed at me.

Some boys picked on me, pulled my hair, played rough and I didn't like it. My parents said maybe he likes you. I didn't get the memo that I was too old to be bullying my crushes. I would flirt through shoulder grazes, eye contact and kicking under the table because I thought that's what love was.

I want to formally apologize to someone named Matthew whom I played soccer with. I liked you and feelings were confusing and you didn't deserve what I did. I'd like to apologize to Chanelle for saying your drawings of people's feet look like horse feet. We were in the fifth grade. You came to me for advice and I didn't know how to draw feet. All my drawings of feet still look like horses feet. That wasn't cool of me and I'm still embarrassed and I'm sorry.

I struggle with the view of myself because I know those were just a few mistakes in my life. I remember being the quiet kid. In high school, someone came to a teacher and said I was cutting my legs. I'm assuming they said that because I would change in the bathroom stalls rather than the open locker room. I also had a friend who dyed their hair and wore a lot of eyeliner.

Whoever reported me for self harm didn't know that I was ashamed of my dollar store flower print underwear. Or that my father sexually assaulted me when I was young. How would they know? I just didn't want people to see my skin or call me a stick.

I didn't give them a chance and opted for an awkward dance in the stalls. Whoever reported that didn't know that my mom picked me up from school and locked me in her bedroom and told me to take off my pants. She didn't trust me and I suppose she had no right. I was cutting my upper left arm. She humiliated and cried over what I put her through and she didn't even see the real harm I was doing to myself.

Here I am. 24. Genderless, new name. I'm who I was and more. I've learned that so much of my upbringing was messed up. I've learned that family isn't supposed to make me feel this way. It's been three years as Max, as me. For Christmas, my mother sent me a journal. "To my daughter..."

Best intentions. But an absolute rejection of who I am. Of the work I've done. In the psych ward I cried because I didn't want to be abandoned by someone who wanted me to breathe. She rejected an abortion with me, all of her Facebook friends know because of a stupid pro choice post I made. That was the lynchpin. She wanted me. But not anymore. She wants her little girl back and all that I've done to get better is not in alignment with her view of my life.

I'm not perfect, I don't pretend to be. I wasn't claiming to be Wonder Mom, I was an older sibling trying to take care of the kids she couldn't stop popping out. She chose life. I tried to end mine again and again. She doesn't want to know all this is real and not just a phase. She doesn't get to know me anymore. And it hurts.

#mom trauma #tw sh related #tw sa mention #overshare #trauma dump #trauma #writing #tw sui implied