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How tf are you going to get mad that I have a dish out for not even a full day when yoy have dishes that have sat around for more than two? And the only reason my dish is out is because you won't do the dishes in the sink that are yours
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I feel like I'm carrying a boulder on my shoulders, and people will stop by and look at me to only place a pebble on top of the boulder.
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There is going to be a day where I snap because I'm so fucking tired of being talked over and interrupted. I constantly make sure I'm actively listening so I don't miss out on what they are saying, and in case THEY get interrupted or talked over, I can pull them back into the convo. No one ever does that for me. Ever. I don't get to talk about the things I like and ramble and word vomit about my hyperfixations. Never.
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It's taking everything in me to not swallow this entire fucking bottle of pills.
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Alchohol ruins everything just like me so maybe I was made to be an alcoholic.
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It is an extremely Christian idea to care so greatly about what people think of you after you're dead. I'm dead, why would I care what people think of me then? I do not seek judgement from a god that will decide my afterlife experience. I do not live to be judged after my death. I live to live for me.
I am not transitioning to convince hypothetical archeologicalists that I wasn't born a female. I do not transition for them. This is for me now. Not then. Not when I'm dead. I am not transitioning to be judged outside of my time spent alive.
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Ypu can't say that you love me and tell me you wish I wasn't who I was. You love who you want me to be.
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Holy shit just fucking say you don't care and move on. I'm sure "be adult" is a great thing to say when someone is having a panic attack.
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I feel like im screaming for help and ppl notice but just don't fucking care.
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Apparently I'm too annoying to talk about a story twice, but when she does it it's fine. It's always me that's the problem. I'm always the annoying one. I'm always the one that's too energetic. I'm always the one everyone ignores and gets interrupted.
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Time to go to work and see how much more my coworkers care than my own fucking best friends.
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I don't think I was ever completely happy, even as a child.
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I’ll forever be the person who says "It’s okay, I understand" even when my heart is literally shattering.
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I hate anti neopronoun discourse. "It makes cis ppl think trans ppl are a joke." I'm sorry but if you think the cis ppl in your life genuinely care about you being trans, you're wrong. More likely than you think, they're waiting on you to "mess up" so they can "lose respect" for an excuse to deadname/misgender you.
Being trans was never about catering to cis ppl. Trans ppl who are going against other trans ppl for using neoprouns don't realize they're yearning for cis approval.
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I'm so angry no one fucking cares after I give them so much of me. How fucking dare they.
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No one ever notices until it's too late.
It's so hard to be happy after someone commits suicide.
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