Uncomfortable.

My mum may not be quite as comfortable with my gender issues as I once thought. Not to say that's a bad thing, she's a parent, I'm the first born boy, I feel bad enough for that as it is, but the fact that the subject is so eagerly avoided and brushed over goes down highly unappreciated on my end.

I have a huge problem with bringing up issues about anything, I feel like I've been treated like the boy who cried wolf in a sense that I've had so many issues that bringing it up is like "Oh, just another fucking 'issue' again", like what I say about how I feel has little to no validity. The 'it's just you being a teenager, you'll outgrow it' approach seemed to be the main approach to all my problems, which by the way, never helped, and at times just made things worse.

I've learned to deal with a lot (or almost all) of issues entirely on my own, I don't like to go to people and bother them with my shit, a habit developed from feeling like I was never taken seriously by Mum. I can empathise with other people and it's given me the ability to be able to listen much better, but when it comes to caring for myself and sorting my issues out, I almost refuse help, and at times I've idiotically completely ignored it.

I can forgive Mum for not helping me out (mentally) throughout my teen years, some of my problems were just dumb teen problems, but I wasn't exactly a normal teen, so teen problems were few and far apart, but not talking about my most serious problem to date and seemingly (though probably not) the beginning of a series of the hardest issues I'm going to have to go through kinda hurts me more than the fact that she doesn't want to talk about it.

I mean, yes I have some solid friends who have come to me and said they're there for me whenever, and I appreciate it so much, but I have a hard time being able to talk to them about it. I don't imagine it's simply because I can't talk about it comfortably with my mum, but she was there for me all my life, more so than Dad was, not to say he's not a great dad, he's just not the emotional type, at all. The fact that she actually can't help me makes me feel entirely helpless, which is dumb, because I'm not.

The fact that I also lost most of my friends a few years back and only had one person to confide in kinda fucked me up a bit mentally, especially due to what was going on at the time. No names, but if I could talk to said person in a relaxed environment where everything between us was cool, I'd probably actually be really happy, not this fake happy I've figured out how to live with (what a fuckin' emo).

I'm lost, I'm scared, I feel alone, but I try to keep a happy face, even if it is just a mask. If I've learned anything from the last five years it's that pretending to be happy is heaps easier than actually being sad. Well, at least from a social standpoint.

Fuck, all I seems to be fucking talking about is my gender shit. I wouldn't be surprised if you all stopped coming here.

'til the next time I feel bored and depressed.
Mat.