But How Could You?

I am so full of rage and hated, I don't want to be but I am. I guess I don't really have much of a life, it seems to be the burden of all trans and non-binary people to live harsh lives full of sorrow. Now my life isn't bad because I am non-binary, I am closeted after all but my gender does play a part no matter how I am hidden.

Today started out okay, I guess. I did a food shop with my mother in town, one woman who apperently gendered wrapping paper called me a "girl" but I didn't say anything. I get it, narrow minded people associate breasts with being a "girl" but at nineteen am I really even in the right age range for that? But then again I do call myself an enby which is the closted thing to an non-binary equalifient. I wish for was more words to describe me. But in whole the trip was great, I could pretend I was normal for once.

But then I came out. My mother's loser-jerk of a husband had invadied and violented my privacy. I was so angry that I screamed and yelled at him; I can't believe she remarried him sometimes. When she divorced him I finally believed that I could truly be part of the family. How wrong was I? Either way after everything he did to me she still decided to take him back.

Its ironic her sister and my sister had one fight and she totally cuts my auntie out of her life for my sister yet she was okay to force me to move back in with that lowlife. I once asked that I never had to see him, he was still in our house the whole time. She's can't do nothing for me, she doesn't care to even try.

Its not like this is the first time, the man has always always resented me. Growing up I was repeately told to "go fuck off and find your real Dad" and reminded completely as my status as a bastard child. When they first seperated he even called me up and told me I wasn't allowed to even speak to my own sister. Its a joke really, everyone pretends he loves me and in reality he goes out of his way to make me feel so worthless that I have self harmed and tried to commit suicide. He hates me but no one cares.

When I was out about my gender identity he was cruel, heartless and transphobic. I believe I have mentioned before how he'd purposely misgender me and tell me I was "born female" even though I wasn't. I was born pangender but defined female at birth because of my vagina. He's a heartless man and I hate him.

I know this may seem harsh but I hate her too. I hate her for knowing everything he has ever done to me, even agreeing that it was wrong and still remarrying him forcing me to live with him. Once I have the means to move out I don't see myself visiting. Even though I still love my mother I never want to be near him. As far as I'm concerned he's an emotional abuser and she doesn't care less.

I wonder why everyone hates me. I feel so trapped without a computer. I want to apply to diffferent housing associations and charities for housing, I want to find a job to support myself so I can move out and far away, I just want to be free. I want to run away where I can be myself and live according to my gender and maybe even do a somewhat type of transistion.

Sometimes it seems the only way I'll be free is in death.

Confessions Of Morgan.

I believe my last blog post was an upsetting one, one written in the mist of depression and a broken heart. I still sometimes wonder why I am so different? Is there something wrong with me? Maybe some children are just born evil and twisted and unlovable.

I am rarely on Twitter now but I am trying to change this. I have also made several drafts but due to still no computer access of my own I have not been able to publish. I can not remember if this was published or written in a draft somewhere but I did start a new job. My step-father hired me part-time for two days a week. I feel like such a fool when I look back at my drafts because I wrote how excited I was. I worked have worked so hard; I had always taken such pride in my work even at a previous job where I was meet with sexism and even a sexual harassment comment. But I was fired after two weeks. I should have known based on past experiences that he would be a jerk about it. He's too unprofessional and has too much resentment towards me. I wasn't fired for anything I did on the top, I was fired outside work for not allowing to throw his seventeen year old daughter's clothes down the stairs. I'll be honest, I was heartbroken. Even though I should be used to this by now, the very reason I took out my phone contracts was because he would take the phone away from whenever he paid for them. He hates me. He hates me and no one cares.

It's like the same day he fired me he came into my room that night. He called me an ungrateful dyke and told me how he was giving all his "grateful" children money. No one listens though, no they listen they just don't care. My mother has turned into a joke; she keeps yelling at me and claiming he planned on giving me money too, that its all in my head and that I turned him down. He never offered me money. I honestly can't even picture him doing a nice thing for me. She tells me stories sometimes of how he'd do nice things for me when I was little....funny how that was before he had any children of his own. I suppose I could crush her fantasties by showing her the texts I sent my friend just moments after he had. We spent ten minutes laughing at how immature and pathetic he was.

I know none of them could love me. I tried coming out to them as pangender and look how that turned out. If they can not expect my gender identity, if they can not care about my dysphoria, if they can not even be willing to use my correct pronouns then how can they even claim to love me? What they love is the idea of what they have pictured in their heads. They love the closeted illusion I protray but they don't love the real me. The one deep down inside.

I wish I had happier things to write about but I don't. When you are a non-binary person who can not even bind or take hornmones then life just isn't happy. I think my dysphoria may have caused some depression too. I know I do have depression but I am starting to believe that some of my depression may be dysphoria based.

I wish I had someone to turn too, someone I could take to about these things, someone who would listen and not judge. No one really understands what it is like for me. And how could anyone? I hurts that no one even tries though.

I feel so alone and lost and I'm always hurting. I spent Samhain alone this year; I am not expecting a conversion but just some understanding would be nice. I know I'll spend Yule alone yet be expected to join in the Christmas celebration. What is the point in Christmas anyway? Jesus, if he was even real, was born in the spring.