Too tired.

I’m not even ridiculously sad anymore, I’m just exhausted with my life. Since I was a kid, there’s been no one even ninety percent genuine with me. My family are judgmental and selfish, and broke up when I was ten. I was constantly underachieving to my father’s standards and was disowned twice in my childhood before this final time, and my mother was more concerned with my (only by a couple years) younger brother. She’d told me she loved him more. I was always a very introverted kid. I loved reading and writing, and didn’t particularly like going out. I didn’t make friends very easily as a kid, was bullied, and moved around, changing schools a lot, so the ones I did make, I lost within usually a year or two. I came out as bisexual when I was thirteen, so most people assumed I was too young to know, and told me it was a phase- but I liked girls first. Moved across the country and my fairweather friends got me into skiving classes, so my grades suffered, and I felt horrible because I was letting people down. I’d gotten my hair cut to a boy length and loved it. I hadn’t quite hit.. it, yet, so I was flatchested, with a boy cut, and I liked wearing guyish clothes. This was my identity. My mum’d told me I ought to girl it up, so I started wearing more girlie clothes, and attempting to act more girlie. Maybe it’d make me feel moreso. At the same time, my body started maturing, and it threw everything out of whack for me. I was overloaded with all the femininity, and assumed I must be pregnant from the guy who I was “dating” because we’d made out and then slept in the same bed after I’d had a root beer and felt tired. See, the only fathomable reason for me to be female was to reproduce. I’m not hugely masochistic, but I’m uncomfortable enough with my assigned gender and always have been, that it just made sense. Cue more school skipping. Moving forward, I grew out my hair and tried to dress and act even more girlie, even changing the name I went by to friends and teachers, in hopes that I’d stop feeling like I was in the wrong body. I discovered the wonders of the internet, and roleplaying boards, where I could be anyone but myself, and ended up with internet addiction, and good friends who tended to disappear after a few years. My third secondary school was where I finally learned about transgenderism, and red lights went off in my head, which I tried to ignore as best as I could, though the thoughts came back every few months for the next four years, and as my body decided to mature even further, I got more and more uncomfortable with my body. I’d moved across the world for my third year of university, and hitchhiked across to visit one of my online friends, and ended up… :S When I got back to the city where my university was, I started binding on and off with bandages but my friends, new and old, all told me “you’re a beautiful girl, you’ll feel better about yourself once you’ve [a job, a boyfriend, etc]” but by a few months later, I couldn’t even leave my bedroom if there were people around, let alone the house.  I’d also fallen out quite suddenly and badly with one of the only people I could call a friend, and the future was looking bleak and terrible, and I just wanted out. And then I met my ex, and he made me feel so appreciated and loved and like I never had before. I told him everything about myself, good and bad, and he’d said he didn’t care at all about any of the bad. I told him my personal “rules” and he promised he’d remember. He started slipping away and distancing himself after the first month and a half or so. At the same time, I’d come out to my family about being transgender, and was promptly disowned. I had to move again, and drop out of university since my parents no longer funded it, and my employment at the time was not prolonged after the season. My boyfriend was also dealing with piles and piles of stress which I took upon myself to try and relieve him of, from across the ocean. Since we didn’t talk as in depth as we used to, I asked on several occasions if we were still alright. He told me doubts ruined relationships, so I attempted to throw it all away. I did, in fact, until a few weeks later, he broke up with me, with all sorts of bollocksed reasons, and the one person I thought I could trust a hundred percent had also gotten tired of me, left me, and shattered my trust in everything. And I’m now ten steps behind where I’d been with that when he first found me. My job’s been telling me I need to be friendlier, need to look people in the eyes, even though I’m an intensely private person and hate people knowing I’m not nearly as okay as I put on to be, and my eyes betray all of that. I’m also too slow, too much of a perfectionist, not observant enough.. I’m terrified my job is hanging by a thread, I’m in almost 2000 dollars of debt, and my future’s looking so incredibly bleak. I don’t have anyone who I can talk to. No one on this whole huge planet has any real love for me. I’m so incredibly lonely, and all this just wears on my heart and mind and body ’til I feel like a zombie walking. I just ache and sleep all the time when I’m not working.  I’ve been thinking a lot of what it’d feel like to fall, and for water to take me, but I don’t like thinking of what it would be like for whoever’d find me, and how selfish it’d be of me to do that to someone. I wish I could just disappear.