You Know What? Im Not Gonna Date Anyone Until Ive At Least Been On T For A Year And Gotten Top Surgery.

You know what? I’m not gonna date anyone until I’ve at least been on t for a year and gotten top surgery. Because something has to change, right? And that would probably improve my mental health.

I feel like there are two types of people I could theoretically be in a relationship with. Someone who’s emotionally stable would be ideal, but let’s face it, such a person doesn’t exist. So I need someone who’s just as fucked up as me. Sure, it would be a nightmare and we’d kill each other, but it would be fun for like a week, and I already feel like I’m dying all the time.

That feeling when you forget everything you learned in martial arts and just fucking go at the punching bag until your hands nearly bleed. I think I also did something bad to my wrist because it hurts like hell. But the adrenaline rush of screaming song lyrics and swearing like there’s no tomorrow at the punching bag, saying all the things I won’t say to him. Worth the pain. So, so worth it.

Image of my hand below cut (not technically bleeding, but there is blood). I know I punch wrong, essentially swiping my fist across the bag, and that’s probably why I always get hurt (that or the fact I don’t wear gloves), but that’s okay. The pain doesn’t bother me

Working at a place that specifically hires autistic people. Sounds great in theory, right? WRONG. They treat me like a child. I know that autism is a spectrum, but apparently the higher-ups of my job don’t get that? I’m an adult. Sure, I’m an immature fuck-up of an adult, but, like, shut the fuck up. I’m gonna be 20 in a month. You don’t get to talk down to me when I know I’m smarter than you. Not trying to sound like an asshole, but I know for a fact that I’m smarter than the people in charge here. Been working here a few months now, and I’ve thought of so many ways that this place could be run more efficiently. They treat me like a lazy child because I don’t put 100% of my energy into my work anymore. Well, the last time I did that, I had to go to the ER for heat exhaustion. This building has no windows, no ventilation, and no air conditioning. Just two poorly placed fans that aren’t on half the time. And machines that get over 400 degrees Fahrenheit. I’m more sensitive to heat than most people. I know that. But that’s no excuse.

Honestly can’t tell if they treat me like shit because I’m visibly tired and in pain all the time, because I’m on a different part of the spectrum than my coworkers, because I’ve got ADHD as well as autism, or because I’m trans and they view me as a fragile little girl. Yeah, I’m fucked up physically and mentally. That doesn’t make me weak. The fact I still show up here and get more done in an hour than my better-paid coworkers do in a week ought to make it pretty fucking obvious that I’m good at my job.

I have nothing against my coworkers, by the way. I understand that it’s a spectrum. It’s the people further above me. The neurotypical ones who think we’re all the same.

I can’t comfort people

You’d think I’d be able to but the way I comfort people is by finding an immediate solution to my problem

Because it works on me

I don’t prefer being comforted, rather I want an immediate solution to fix my problems, which tends to be impossible (making me more upset) or incredibly stupid easy (also making me even more upset

But that’s not how it works for most people

So i just come off as insensitive or stupid

I can hug at best but I don’t know how to comfort a person except when i need to ground them for an extreme mental episode

I don’t understand people

And I hate that I don’t

I want to help

But I am just a failure of a friend with empathy

To be honest, I’m starting to think that dying alone is not only the most likely way this ends, but the option I’d prefer. It sucks to not have a favorite person, but you know what sucks more? Having one, then losing them.

There are so many self-destructive things I want to do right now