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Look, before I get into this, I just want to say I don't want any sympathy. Sympathy pisses me off. Tell me something useful or don't tell me anything, but don't tell me you're "sorry".


My body is wrong.


I look in the mirror and everything feels wrong — and not in the sense that I wish I was more physically attractive. I don’t. I’m not insecure about my appearance, but my body feels wrong. Fundamentally. Flawed on a basic level. It’s like I look in the mirror and I don’t know who the fuck I am. The shape of my body, the structure of my face, everything. It’s a deep emotional ache, it stretches across everything, everything, everything, everything. It’s like being choked, hands around my throat, every minute of every day. I am a stranger in my own skin. My own face feels foreign. Everything feels wrong.


I used to dissociate from everything, but not so much anymore. My friendships, my hobbies, it all felt fake for a while. I felt like I was watching my own body function autonomously, like I was on the ceiling, across the room in the corner, powerless. I considered throwing myself off a bridge for a few years. Maybe I’d be better off if I had. My fiancé at the time broke up with me. It was rather sudden and I hadn’t done anything wrong to her. She just broke up with me and started ignoring me completely. Which made me angry. Furious. We only talked about it and got closure this year. I told her I forgave her, and that I still love her, but every time I think about her I just feel anger. I’m still damaged. But it’s our intentions that matter. I intend to forgive her, and I intend to love her, regardless of my emotional state. 


I’m on three medications now, and they help me not to dissociate so badly, but they don’t make it go away. 


And it’s not like I’m glorifying pain or mental illness. That’s pure fucking degeneracy. I want to be neurotypical. I am actively going to counseling, and not just so I can tell people that. I try my very best to be as good of a person as I can be. Which isn’t saying much, everyone’s an asshole, but I try to be less of an asshole than other people. That’s saying something, right? 


But, like, I’ve been in pain every minute of my goddamn life, and I try to be a good person. And there’s plenty of people who are vile and disgusting who aren’t fundamentally flawed like I am. It’s not fair. It’s not right. People who genuinely believe we live in a world where the righteous prosper and the wicked do not are completely out of touch with reality. It’s mildly better than it used to be, which isn’t saying much. It was worse when I was a teenager. For a couple of years I would shove my fingers down my throat a few times a week. Worship the porcelain goddess again, and again, and again. I was 6’ and 115 pounds. I prayed to God a lot during those years. It didn’t do shit for me. I don’t pray much anymore. I still believe in Him. I’m just bad at christianity, I guess.

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