About life

Content-warning: anxiety, depression

Times have been rough, but all the support I received from some people has helped me move forward again.

I don't really recall ever having good memories. As far as I can remember, my memories were always clouded with a lot of emptiness and unease. They still are, today, but I feel like transitioning, drawing, and spending lots of time opening myself to my own thoughts, feelings, helped me to stop digging down, and instead try to look up.

Those thoughts are mostly grim, and I've always been scared of them, but I think that accepting them is better than running away from them; something I've done for at least the last 10 years. I cannot recall how much time I spent in therapy - psychologists, and other kinds of therapists - but the only thing it helped me with was how to become better at hiding those feelings from the world, and me. And now I slowly start to realize that maybe ignoring them, letting them bottle up, wasn't the most healthy thing to do... Still looked much healthier than sharing them at that time, considering all the regular hate and bullying I received. Since I apparently managed to stick around until now, and since I managed to try "something else", which apparently worked, I guess I'm about to start walking the painfully long but maybe worth-it road of recovery.

Talking around with people has made me realize a common occurence of this pre-trans distrust for... People in general (them being your random passerby or some professional, especially in the medical or sports fields). This has also helped me explain to myself all those thoughts and feelings that used to hang around me. This discomfort in sports-related classes, this tendency to hate my body or my voice, those style preferences. Now that it's pretty obvious, and that I managed to begin this journey into becoming myself "in real life", I sometimes feel an ounce of regret for not having started that sooner, but this regret is soon replaced by reassurance, knowing that in the shit society we live in, violence towards me would've probably been much worse; choosing between self-hate or external hate, at least I now know I can fight my self-hate.

I'm only getting started, though, and far from how I depict myself in this drawing, I have yet to actually shine as much IRL, but now I don't feel as hopeless as I used to. I see this objective, and instead of thinking "I wish it could be me", I started thinking "I'm working towards becoming it", so I guess that's a good mark. Surprisingly, the mental health issues I struggled with for years appear to be mostly stabilized / slowly recovering; I don't know how or why though, it may be due to transitioning, or maybe to me finally discovering some real passions to work towards (art, bdsm), or anything else, but I don't really care, as long as it works. I started becoming myself, too, and embracing those wishes and thoughts I had for years, I kinda feel like I lost 20 years of my life, and now re-starting my teen years. New clothing styles that actually match my tastes (metal / goth / lolita kind), colored hair, piercings, and an upcoming tatoo I hope to get done next year. I still have no care or motivation for work at all, and still dreadly hate school (yay deadnaming and stupid voice dysphoria during performances), but at least I found some activities that will not completely drain me and actually help me rest. I also hope to be able to share this new "hope" with the people I met that underwent the same past hell, even if sometimes, finding words can be scary.

Starting those two passions made me discover that I really don't care about tech, or coding; what I thought as "I hate tech, so I'm working towards making it better" has instead become "I don't even care about tech anymore, this tech world's fucked". I also kinda feel bad about all the people that stuck around with me during those times, giving so much without receiving anything; maybe because my mind was too dark to actually see anything, so I guess this is also kinda why I decided to try to give now. Giving out isn't easy when you're still ridden with social anxiety among other things... I don't really know how to give when even something as simple as meeting my all-around pretty nice neighbors for more than 30min or so will almost always trigger a pretty violent panic attack, this has also made going for groceries, or even meeting good friends very tough. I failed to attend my girlfriend's birthday due to that, having to leave mid-meal because my instincts kicked in and alerted me of an incoming attack, and I cannot sleep in our room anymore because hearing faint voices outside is enough...

This image shows two vastly different outlooks on life. The left part shows me, four years ago, submerged in depression and anxiety issues, among other things, while th right part shows me, as of today, on the road to recovery.