At times like this I'm glad there is no easy way readily available for me to commit a painless suicide.
A cousin and his family came by earlier today to check out some furniture we were going to get rid of. The whole time he called me by my old name and showed no signs that he had any clue about my situation. I tried to correct him, but I couldn't get word inbetween the busy chattering.
Later when everyone was sitting downstairs I joined them and faced general desinterest and the few times they did express some interest in me a lack of understanding. On top of that my mother even made some jokes about me moving to Canada which were totally inappropriate. I tried to calm down and tell them something to make them realize what they were doing, but again the chatter prevented me from getting in more than a few words. Ultimately I couldn't bear it anymore and ran upstairs to my room.
More crying. One'd think that by now I'd have discovered all reasons to cry about, yet this time was different again. Eventually I calmed down and went downstairs for a moment. There they were preparing to leave, yet nobody paid any interest in me. By now I felt quite angry and before I went upstairs again hurled a chair across the room. Nobody was injured.
More crying yet again. When my mom entered my room minutes later she said the same useless things again and once more claimed that she understood me. After I told her how the way this cousin and family had treated me and how that had shocked me, she then had the nerve to use my old name as well. At that point I just told her to leave me alone.
Am I really right about everything? Am I really intersexual? Am I really a girl? Am I merely deluding myself? Why are people so cruel to me? I want to hurt them for hurting me. I feel more justified in hating or at least strongly disliking people in general at this rate.
Now I know that people will tell me that these are just a small number of people... that there are so many people out there who are really nice. Yet aside from my boyfriend I have never met anyone who has ever even come close to understanding the pain I feel inside. The pain which defines who I am right now. The pain thanks to which I can feel like a worthless existence at times like this.
Will someone please put a band-aid on this gaping flesh wound?
Maya
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