2016 made us all go into 2017 with the lowest expectations ever and yet
me: *watches tv show*
tv show:[character is about to do something embarrassing]
me: *hides face*
tv show:[character does the thing]
me: *pauses the show, gets up, starts cleaning the room, does the dishes, finishes homework, goes for a walk, pets a dog, updates blog, reads a book, calls mum, takes a shower and tries to forget what just happened*
i wanna give a shout out to all lgbt people who thought they were another identity before realizing they were something else. lesbians realizing they’re trans men, bi/pan people realizing they’re a lesbian/gay, binary trans people realizing they’re genderfluid, etc. even if you don’t know if your current identity is the final stop, even if you think it’s a “phase”, or you don’t know what label fits you best, you’re on a journey to self discovery, every step matters, it shapes you into the person you are or aspire to be, and you’re not fake or a bad person for figuring things out.
YO PEOPLE scope this weirdness, i’m 36 and i still don’t know for sure what i’m gonna be by 40, so i’m currently stuck between butch dyke, ftx and full on straight ass dudebro. am i hesitating to claim full masc because of anxiety disorder? social conditioning that says i will never pass and therefore shouldn’t put myself at risk? genderqueer for real? ftm with hangups? for real, I DON’T KNOW!
but luka you’re so adamant you say
yes because i have made peace with not knowing for sure (most of the time, fuck u v much dysphoria)
the thing is, becoming ok with not knowing is a vital process that will make it a lot less important to define yourself and risk getting it wrong. less concern over the “what if” smorgasbord means you won’t nitpick your own experience so much and second guess every feeling you have. accept ambiguity and don’t obsess about what will come out of your egg when you’re done. get toasty under the feathered butt of the universe for now and just tell yourself that you’re here, you’re likely to be some variety of queer, and the world is just gonna have to get used to it.
The reason depression is literally the worst is not because of the soul-crushing sadness or the wanting to kill yourself or the self harm or all the violent and extreme emotions that come with dealing with this particular mental handicap.
It’s the long and painful stretches of days of weeks of months where you’re not really depressed, but you kind of just exist. The time you spend sitting in bed aimlessly browsing the Internet instead of finishing that video game you thought was fun or going out with a friend to see a movie or getting up and doing your laundry. You exist, and it’s okay, but you’re not really sure why. You’re not doing anything productive when you have all the time in the world to be doing it. You feel like you’re missing out on life, but at the same time you feel that it doesn’t really matter. That’s the worst kind of depression.
just moving along like everyone else 