I have such a weird relationship with my own age, like does anyone else with trauma feel like their sense of self and maturity is so out of whack?
I have never felt comfortable or been able to relate to people my own age you know? It's either like babies?? Or old people???
Like on one hand I collect stuffed animals and cry all the time and like stickers and juice boxes and soft blankets and I'm scared of everything but on this other hand, ever since all the shit it's like I have this scary sense of cynicism? maturity? Like I'm always waiting for the inevitable, like if tomorrow I woke up to a knock on my door and a, "your mother has cancer" it would be a heart wrenching blow. But I would be prepared for it, because I'm use to tragedy. Because I HAD To grow up. when things are really really serious I completely push all of my emotions away, I go into survival mode, I don't cry I don't do anything I just get through the day.
but if I spill my coffee on myself it's an earth shattering, life ruining, disaster. my emotional stability is completely fucked, seriously.
I just feel so helpless all the time, and I hate that, i hate being called weak, my worst fear is being seen as fragile and yet that is the only possible way I can portray myself?
I want stuffed animals and frilly skirts and pink and pretty stuff and flowers to be okay again, I want to stop worrying that somehow I'm still thirteen and I'm still his. I want to stop feeling like I have to throw all of these walls up, because I don't, because I'm save and okay.
I'm worried that maybe being trans is like? A defense mechanism for me? and I know, I know, being trans isn't caused from trauma but like MINE specifically. He was so focused on how feminine I was, how pretty I was, how I was a GIRL, that I just wanted to reject every part of that because it made me feel so sick so like.
what part of me being trans is me being scared of being his?
what part of me is about ME?
what part of me is mine?