Wake Me Up Inside


When I started this blog, I needed to know who I am. I needed answers as to why I was this way. If I knew the reason then maybe I could fix myself…or so I thought. I was in denial. I always knew, deep down. I just couldn’t admit it. I was afraid of the truth and what it would mean.

Searching for some kind of answer meant I had some kind of comfort. A reason for why I’m this way would mean people wouldn’t judge or blame me for any of this. But people will always judge me – with or without a reason. I see that now. Despite the recent difficulties and metal struggles, things have become very obvious: there’s a difference between being afraid of who I am and being afraid to be who I am. Yes, I’m shit scared of who I am. Who wouldn’t be? It’s a massive change. One that starts with a massive confession to something that I always knew…but had managed to avoid, bury or deny for my entire life. The more I let the idea of gender dysphoria sit with me, the more I start to realise that (for whatever reason) it’s always been with me – and it never had any intention of going anywhere. Faithfully, it followed me through life even though I denied it. I either pretended it was something else or that it was a phase and got on with my life. As I found out last year, when a twat came into the studio and took a photo of me, it was more than a phase. It wasn’t something else nor anything which could be buried. It was me. I’ve been denying myself the chance to simply be.

It’s a sudden change in thinking, yeh. Or maybe some people could have seen this coming? As I’ve written in other posts, things have been really tough, despite telling my other half. It’s drained me. Last night, shit happened and I sank further than I thought I could. The build up of constant frustration and the lack of communication has caused this change in me. It woke me up and made me see the world in a different way. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to help or fix others that I never stopped to help me. And now I’m miserable. I don’t want to be. It’s clear I’m never going to discuss this matter again with my other half, given the fact that she never talks about anything significant or slightly meaningful unless I bring it up, which I shouldn’t have to. Communication is a basic and important part of any relationship. No communication, no relationship. I’ve always said this. Why do you think it was killing me that I couldn’t tell her about this? I really wanted to because communication is important. And eventually I did. But again, I shouldn’t have to be the one that does all the communicating. It’s too one-sided. I can’t make her communicate if she doesn’t want to. I’ve tried to encourage her to talk more and even made myself as approachable as possible but there’s always an excuse or reason for not communicating. Well, I’m tired of it. Tired of the excuses, which is partly why I’ve decided to stop focusing on things that can’t ever be fixed. I’ve done all I can but nothing is working. You get to a point where you just have to walk away and concentrate on situations that aren’t going to mentally drain you.

Being afraid to be who I am – now that’s a different thing altogether. That isn’t just down to me. In fact, a lot of the fear comes from those around me. In the same way adverts tell us what our lives should be like or how we should look, the judgement of those around us does the same…only adverts are subtle. People can be blunt, ignorant and spiteful. When you think about it, a lot of the ignorant people (those I like to call utter twats) are quick to judge but would could they handle what I’m going through? It’s all very easy to point and stare at the strange hybrid person that walks among them, but would those twats have the strength to even be able to make a choice like this, let alone taking the next step? No. I just need to keep reminding myself of that. They judge because they don’t understand. But most don’t even try to understand either. They don’t have the strength to completely change their lives and stand up to the world. It’s far simpler to just shame or judge others. And anyway, what’s so shameful about realising you’re female? Is it the way it’s come about (ie being born male)? Or is it because the idea is repulsive? Why the fuck can’t people just accept the world isn’t black and white? There are sooooooooo many shades of grey in between.

If I was younger I wouldn’t give a shit. I’d make whatever changes necessary. A lot of the fear comes from age. Having an established life already. Kind of like when you’re younger and you don’t care if you fall off your skateboard whilst when you’re an adult you’re more cautious and aware of the risks, so something holds you back. But just because I’m scared that doesn’t change how I feel. I can’t dwell on the time that’s already lost, I need to focus on what happens from now on. And now that I’m done trying to fix situations that are happy to stay broken, I intend to.

Featured image: via Google
Featured video: “Bring Me To Life” by Evanescence (via Evanescence’s YouTube page)

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