What is assumed

I wonder what it is like to wake up and not feel things…

to not feel wrong in my skin…

to not feel the searing ache of empty nothingness…

to not feel the exclusion from the human race, looking at women whom I identify with, think like, feel like, and yet do not look like, and looking at men whom I am biologically born like and look like and yet have no idea why they like what they like, and how they hold tools without dropping them and how they can debate which bullet is better for hours, and how they can love to go out in the woods in the rain and muck and traipse about for hours and then kill an animal, and then cut it up into bloody hunks and slog it out on their backs…

to not feel the question why…why…why…why…what did I do wrong?  Why am I like this?…

to not feel as if each day is another mark on the wall of the steady and inexorable march to my last day, and on that last day to be confronted with a life that did not amount to any difference in this world, one that resulted in either the pursuit of my own happiness and congruence at the expense of other people and their own happiness and fruitfulness, or one that pursued laying down my life (gender, self, identity) and bringing joy and encouragement and happiness to others, but more misery and sorrow and suffering to me…

to not feel like writing this post makes me a huge whiny baby…

Everyone faces existential issues…everyone.  My feelings are largely in common with the human race.  They stem from living in a realm and sphere we were never created to be in…in thrall to death and corruption having been made to live in Life and eternity.  But the worst part of it is that in addition to all those things, some how I f***ed up and got into the wrong skin to boot.

And how to get out?  Does the investment of tens of thousands of dollars in surgically altering my body make me on the outside what I am on the inside, or does it just make me pathetic?  Does the ingesting of the right hormones change my feelings inside, and make it more bearable?  Is the pain of rejection by others upon coming out more tolerable than the pain of rejecting myself and the judging of myself?

For I truly do feel as though I am pathetic and tragically inept at this thing called life, as I watch others seemingly sail through like racing yachts on the seas of life.

Please…you cis-gendered who are comfortable in your own skin…have mercy on us…in your hearts and souls and minds…it is not for us as it is for you.

Can I make it to one place or the other?  I dunno, cus for now I am stuck here…neither one.


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