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mentalhealthvents · 5 years

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hi. introduction post? i dont know if anyone will see this.

TW: mentions of suicide, suicide attempts, suicidal thoughts, bullying, abuse, sexual assault, slurs, self harm

hi. im finn, im 13, im a trans guy and i have a Whole Host of issues. you dont have to read this, but i guess you can submit vents to this account? i dont have a plan. this is me screaming into the void and waiting for a reply. it might just be an echo.

so uh, the best place to start is probably where my main issues started, a.k.a. year 2. basically, i had extremely stressed and pulled out my hair. people werent really dicks about it cause they were 7, but i got some weird looks. two years later (year 4. nine years old) i started with my first therapist and got informally diagnosed with trichotillomania. pulled my hair out again, got bullied. i was a very bulliable person. insecure, not physically fit or attractive or well liked. smart, but afraid.

i stopped therapy at the end of year 5 as i moved into school number 4. it was a very religious cathedral school. i was starting to seem more and more eccentric/weird/gay. people didnt like that. i got called a lot of slurs. fag, dyke, tranny, retarded - you name it, i probably got called it. that year is where i developed a very good resistance to blunt force pain and pain in general.

skip to year 7 - school number 5. a grammar school. i think ill meet good, nice friends. i did. i also met the worst person id ever had the misfortune of seeing. her name was lottie. she physically attacked me, verbally abused me including telling me to die and saying she hoped i would kill myself.

she taught me how to take the blade out of a pencil sharpener.

i moved classes.

mid 2018, i self harmed for the first time (knowingly). i occasionally stopped eating for a few days, i didnt leave the house, i hated talking to anyone and had just gotten out of my 3rd therapist. it was a pretty bad time. i got out.

july 2018, i meet up with a friend. we talk a bit. she is clearly upset. i ask her whats wrong. she confesses to me that on her twelfth birthday, a few days before, her ex best friend groped her without her consent. i reassure her, and notice the new and old cuts and scars on her thighs. we discuss how statistically, one person in our year probably wont make it to the end of school.

late 2018, about august, i realised 2 things. 1, i wasnt a girl. i had been questioning for a while, but that was when i really realised i wasnt. i cut my hair short, tested pronouns and names. 2, my relationship with my parents was not good, or normal. i barely talked to them. i saw my dad maybe an hour a day, and when i interacted with my mother she would do something harmful. say something transphobic, call me autistic (bear in mind i do not feel i am autistic and i have not been diagnosed), whatever. i had been basically fending for myself since year 4, and saw my mother as closer to a sister due to her responsibility issues and tendency to get very drunk and yell.

new school year starts. im doing ok. i lose a couple of friends, gain a couple, officially come out to my friends, try to come out to my mother but she dismisses it, its chill. i go to my 4th therapist. hes the best ive had so far.

february 2019. i start self harming again. i make about 30 cuts in 7 days. i force myself to stop, and enter a phase in which i am so numb that i cant remember most of february and march. i come out to my family and buy a binder.

april 4th. thursday. 12:06pm. i am 13 and 5 months old. i have recorded messages to my friends and i remember the statistic that at least one person in my year wont make it through school. i take 16 500mg ibuprofen pills in the hope that itll make it stop. it doesnt. i go back to camhs. my emergency counsellor hears what i say about my anxiety, depressive tendencies, dysphoria, insecurities, tendency to believe that i dont have enough issues.

she phones my mother and says that i may be autistic and that i communicate like it. i remember why i wanted to kill myself. i cut some more. deeper, but still on the back of my arms. im too much of a coward to cut anywhere else.

its early may. i hate myself. i want to kill myself sometimes. i hold a strong dislike for my mother and therapy, and i feel nothing the majority of the time. i stay alive for music and to not hurt my friends. i have a lot of scars on my left arm.

#mental health #vent #suicide #mental disorder #emotional #tw #vent post #mentally ill #young

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