Recently I have been binge watching AWKWARD. on Amazon Prime and I have one thing to say.
I AM SO GLAD I LIVE IN ENGLAND. American schools (in the typical high school T.V show and movies) seems like such a terrible place if you’re on the wrong end of the popularity spectrum… I’m not saying English high schools don’t have bullying, but as a somewhat social outcast myself, I am glad I don’t experience the same humiliation that Jenna does.
Watching that it was has prompted my sudden blog post today! Plus, I do have updates on how my life is going right now.
My parents found out about my tablets. And by tablets, I mean anti-depressants. Annoyingly for me, it all came about because for once in my life, my mother tried to put my keys in the right pocket in my bag… why!? It prompted awkward questions that I didn’t want to answer – mostly “what are these tablets?” and “why are you taking them?” over and over again – and I had a brief moment where I actually considered hurting myself again. Thankfully I was in the car on the way to the shop with my dad. It didn’t really end there though, about a week or so later, when I visited home, my mum poked the fire and outwardly asked me how I was feeling. I said nothing. When she poked more, I said nothing because I was already crying.
I thought my dad had saved me when he just asked: “you don’t want to talk about it?” To which I replied no. Then I couldn’t bear it and I left the room.
My mum followed me. All the way up the stairs and into my bedroom, where I stood in the corner watching my fish tank. She thought I was doing it entirely to ignore her, but I was also checking the location of a weather loach, because it was seriously invisible and I was worried it had died.
She sat herself down on my bed and kept patting it, telling me to sit down. I didn’t and I didn’t say anything either. I eventually sat down on the floor at the end of my bed, which I have always done when I am upset, don’t ask me why, I have just developed it as a habit. Sometimes I sit there to keep warm as it’s right by the radiator, but it’s also my “sulk zone” as I will now call it.
So once I got annoyed at her waiting, I talked. I didn’t tell her everything, but they both know now that I don’t intend to finish uni. They are still proud of me for getting so far, which I didn’t expect. They are also more concerned that I didn’t tell them. To be honest, they also don’t know how long I’ve been on those tablets, but at least now they know and most of the beast that had been shredding my insides had been subdued.
My family don’t talk about big issues very often. If any of you read this blog before, I explained that I kept schtum about being bisexual purely because we had never spoken about whether things like that were OK, or even had much conversation besides my mother cringing at gay things on T.V. However, she does seem to have stopped that… perhaps I am having good influences on my parents!
But again, I have never spoken to my family about things that are going wrong. Normally I actually tell them shorter versions after I have done all my crying and feeling awful in private. But in the midst, I always go it alone, asking for help from non-family, if any, people. Maybe I will come clean about the worst parts, because actually, I want to be comfortable if/when I move home or visit when it gets hotter. The scars on my legs still haven’t faded and considering some of them are pretty new, those will definitely not be gone by the time I will be wanting to wear shorts.
I cannot wait to see Josh soon either. I made the mistake of telling him I wanted to leave because I couldn’t handle feeling like I was swinging into super-lesbian mode… I haven’t particularly acted on out the other side of my bisexuality, I just know it exists. Sometimes I consider myself demi-lesbian, but I know that I could definitely date girls. So every now and again I have a massive panic moment of “OMG what if I can never get over it?” and I start pushing away whoever I’m with. But now that I have actually told him that, I’m like… what a massive overreaction. I think I forget that just because I’m with a guy, it doesn’t mean that the whole lesbian side of me doesn’t exist anymore. Actually, I think this feeling goes hand in hand with bisexuality for a lot of people – how can you feel like you’re included in LGBT things when you can pass as straight and people would never assume you also like girls? A whole part of you gets cancelled out because of society and makes everyone forget who you are just because of who you are with at that moment in time.
In my case, I guess it’s like “So what I’ve only dated guys? My sexuality is (as I’ve see on countless LGBT Instagram accounts run by tweenagers) VALID. I can date whoever I want and it doesn’t cancel anything out. It doesn’t mean I can’t be attracted to girls anymore. I have fallen for girls, I have fantasised about girlfriends, I like the female form, sometimes a lot more than the male one. I have had enough proof to label myself however I want.”
Same goes for my gender. I don’t classify as a female. I want people to be like “oh is that a guy or a girl?” and it’s taken me a long time to realise that. I have always never wanted to tick female. Then I never want to tick male either. I don’t want to dress like a girl and I feel more comfortable in men’s clothes. If people want to call me lesbian because of that, f**k them! Josh is happy with me in whatever I want to wear. I’ve even discussed binding my chest with him and he’s happy. Even if I got a breast reduction, which I was seriously considering in my worst phase of dysphoria recently. A couple of weeks swung past and I moved out of the male phase, back into neutral. Then for a couple of days I was like YEAH! BOOBS! I’M A GIRL YO! and now I’m edging back into neutral. I want to be seen as like a guy who is sometimes a bit girly. I was stoked when I felt super manly the other day and still had pink hair. It was a great day! I was in full “Robin” mode, even shortening it to just Rob. Then I became neutral and I was pretty much Maria. I have truly coined myself!
So yeah, I guess a lot of discoveries have been made. At the grand age of 22… Things are finally slotting in to place and really, I should have known it was A OK to NOT have things figured out straight from the off like some people do. Because everyone is different and maybe I just am slow… That’s really what my little poem was about the other day. I kept seeing a post saying that other people’s success is not your failure, and when things seemed to work out in almost an instant after I had been worrying and stressing for so long, it was like damn. People are DIFFERENT. So I don’t have a shit ton of money from a great job, or a car, and won’t graduate from a life of partying at uni. I have a job where I can work with kittens! I enjoy public transport because it gives me time to read! I HATED UNI! Everything I was ever told about it was from other people and society’s stories. I made my own, kind of shit story, but who cares?
What makes you great should be what you want it to be. Your choices and way in life are yours, and yours alone. Obviously you want people to share things with and the way of finding them is to have them get who YOU are, and accept that as much as you do. Too many times I was trying to do stuff to please other people, or be liked and more popular. Screw it! Things I did back then have become the moments I cringe at.
This post got so meaningful :’) I’m going to leave it now with an inspirational poster xD