This is Just The Beginning

In the words of Eliel Cruz, “I didn’t want to exchange a white heteronormative world for a white homonormative one.”

I gotta be honest, it’s tiring as a queer bisexual girl to see the cis white gays waving their Pride flags and talking about just marriage equality, acting like this is the one and only fight of the LGBT community. They never once mention the issues that transgender people face, never once talk about bisexual erasure, and pretty much never discuss things beyond the “L” and “G” of LGBT. Not to mention the whole leaving out QPOC.

Again, not shitting on the victory that is marriage equality. But I’ve got a double whammy being a queer bisexual girl, and my identity is often erased in the LGBT community. My partner’s identity is even more erased. Our issues are rarely discussed. How often have you heard others in the "L" and "G" part of the community being super vocal about trans issues, like access to restrooms and proper medical care? I know, just because someone doesn’t speak up about something doesn’t mean they don’t care about it, per se. But when they act like the marriage equality movement is the main issue in the LGBT community, it ticks me off. Because people are dying, yet how often do you hear about trans suicide rates?  Where’s the outrage over this? Do they realize that there's no marriage to look forward to if most of us are dead?

Yes, I’m grumpy and cynical as hell. But I’m tired of this homonormative world that erases queer and trans people.

Jason Cantrell had a good point in this blog post: "The Supreme Court may have given everyone the right to marry, but there are still a lot of places where transgender individuals don’t have the right to use a public restroom. And there’s still a lot of people who have to hide who they are, for fear of being attacked by “good moral Christians” and “proud patriotic Americans” who see anything outside of their binary, heteronormative world as a threat to their lifestyles. And I don’t know what to do about that. And it scares me."

So, yes, marriage equality is great and I’m excited for it. But this is just the beginning. We have so much more to work on. I hope that we continue to make progress and keep working on the issues that affects those in the community who don’t fall under the “L” and “G” of LGBT.

No One Fucking Gets It (As Usual)

It's no secret I've suffered from depression for a long time. Paired with the ridiculous anxiety I have, it's not a pleasant combination.

I'm not comfortable explaining why I'm this way. I know what's wrong with me, I know damn well why I'm depressed and have wanted to kill myself in the past. But I can't talk about it publicly, at least not on blogs my mom knows that I write for and under my actual name. If certain people knew about the physical and emotional trauma I've been through, I don't know how they'd react. Especially when it comes to my mom. She's tried asking about it before, but I can't open up to her. Not yet. It's all still too...fresh. I have to deal with the pain every day and sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode. I look around me and wonder how no one can see that there's something wrong with me. Maybe my smile's too convincing.

Maybe it's because no one sees the days where I'm curled up in my room, shaking and trying not to cry. Trying not to cut. Trying not to give up. Because I still remember everything, or most of it. What's put together of my broken memories paints some scary shit.

I feel trapped. Because beyond anonymously writing for other blogs and frantically DMing certain friends only to quickly clear out the conversation in hopes my mom doesn't see it, I can't tell anyone else. It'd made everything fall apart. Things would get worse. I'm not sure if everyone would believe me, or believe just how badly I've been affected by what happened.

So I'm quiet, but it's killing me.

Crumbling

It's one of those days where the thoughts of everything I have to go through for the next 12 months are bothering me. I don't know how I'm gonna make it, honestly. It's a fucking miracle that I've made it this far.

My mental health isn't getting any better. The good days were enough to trick me into thinking so, but y'know what? I was wrong. I'm not getting better. And that's really scary for me, because I know how far I'm capable of going when I relapse. Sometimes there's no coming back from that place.

I'm sitting here on Twitter while I write this blog post, trying to find someone to interact with and distract myself. I'm trying to think of funny jokes I could make. Maybe throw in some TWSS jokes somewhere. Get someone to talk to me so I can stop dwelling on all the bullshit in my life right now.

I'm hurting and I'm scared.

This is Where I'm Honest

What better way to start off a blog post than with a lame, awkward introduction? Cause lame and awkward is what I do!

Hi, world. I'm Kelley. I'm a 17 year old with depression and anxiety. I've wanted to kill myself before, and I can't tell you how often I've wanted to hurt myself. I'm your stereotypical loner girl who doesn't really have any close friends, except those she's met over the internet.

I've tried writing this blog post more times than I can count. There's drafts of this on my Drive, uncompleted and shared only with my partner. Most of it starts now nice and concise, like this blog post has so far, then dissolves into a rambly, emotional mess. I never have the energy to finish them, much less clean them up and make them less...broken. I write the way I think. To try and edit that into a concise form removes the meaning of my words. Sterilizes them.

It's 1 in the morning and I don't even know if what I've written so far makes any sense. I've been talking on Twitter tonight to some lovely ladies about depression and anxiety. It's a conversation that, while relieving to finally have so openly, has left me a little frustrated. Because the stuff I tweeted about in that conversation is stuff I've been trying to put into a blog post for ages. Or, at least, convey to my mother face-to-face. That never happens, obviously. She still doesn't know why I'm so depressed and anxious sometimes.

And honestly, I don't even know why a lot of the time. I have no explanation for the gray clouds and the odd, awkward bouts of omg too much energy got to do something why won't everyone leave me alone why can't I do anything. It's a fucking roller coaster. I can go from wanting to cut myself and die in a hole to I have to do all the things otherwise I'm a shitty human being.

It doesn't make sense. Nothing makes any fucking sense anymore. Not the paranoia, the depression, the anxiety, the strange tendencies that I think are obsessive-compulsive disorder. It's scary to have none of it make sense, because if it doesn't make sense, how do I fix it? Is there any fixing it? Or do I just have to deal with this for the rest of my life and just cope to the best of my abilities?

I don't know what to do.

The Bible Condemns Me, Yet I'm Fucking Queer

Religious homophobia is a tricky thing.

As a Christian, I know where conservative straight Christians are coming from. I’ve read the Bible verses. I know why they believe what they believe.

But I’m queer. I also have to deal with the fact that, even though the Bible condemns homosexuality, I’m very fucking queer. There’s nothing that’s going to change that. I cannot deny my attractions to those who don’t fall within the rigid, cis/heteronormative male binary. There is no off switch.

I cannot squeeze myself into a cis/heteronormative box, either. I cannot pretend. Being in the closet hurts too much. In denying myself, I’m saying that my true self is wrong. That’s damaging.

Homophobia tells us that we're less. That we're broken and stupid and worthless. And for those of us who are Christians, it makes us question our salvation. An eternal, peaceful afterlife is something a lot of us look forward to. But when we’re told that an innate part of us will damn us to eternal misery...that fucking hurts.

I feel lost. Hurt. Broken. Damaged. Unloved.

This has to change. Please.

Sometimes, I Regret Coming Out

Sometimes, I regret coming out.

I’m only in the beginning stages of my coming out, so I suspect that this regret will occur time and time again. Some days I may say, fuck yeah, this was a great decision! I feel so empowered! Other days? They’ll feel like this.

People have had negative reactions. I wasn’t naive enough to think this wouldn’t happen. But I’ve underestimated how badly it would hurt. I wasn’t prepared for the intense loneliness I would feel, and how bad some days would get. Just a day or two ago, I was really depressed because I was like, yo, people really hate me more than I originally thought. I felt trapped again, and honestly, who wouldn’t? I’m in that stereotypical “teenager stuck in a small town full of narrow-minded, mean people” situation. And it really fucking sucks.

It’s difficult for me because even though I turn seventeen in a couple of days, I’m still not a legal adult. I’m stuck here until I get a job and a driver’s license. But then again, not even a job is enough to secure my leaving.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not itching to leave town just because of a couple of bad reactions. But sometimes, I’m just overwhelmed with how small this place is and how easy it’ll be for word to spread around concerning my “deviant” sexuality. I mean, assuming word hasn’t spread around already. If not in the overall town, then in my homeschool community, maybe. Then even more ostracization could occur.

It’s a gut-wrenching thought.

I do honestly wonder what things would’ve been like if I hadn’t come out. Would I have continued to pass invisible through my communities? No one can find much to gossip about when it comes to a shy girl. A shy, queer girl on the other hand…

*sigh*

I don’t know how things are going to keep turning out. I’m not blasting news of my sexuality off the rooftops of churches and won’t be any time soon, so I think that as long as most “IRL people” don’t find my Twitter, I’ll be okay. And, y’know, assuming Stalker Dance Mom and her girls aren’t gossiping with the rest of the community about my sexuality.

Yeah, this should get...interesting.

Struggling With Writing...Everything

I’m struggling tonight. Have been struggling for over a week now. I’ve tried writing various pieces on many different topics, some so close to my heart that I can’t share them on this blog. But I keep failing. I get blocked, don’t know how to continue, or think the idea I was pursuing is utter shit. I’m stuck in a vicious circle of starting, not finishing, then starting another piece...failing again to finish either piece…

It’s discouraging, really. Because I want to be a better writer. I want to get more of my stuff out there, but I can’t if I never finish it. I don’t know if what I’m trying to write about is just too heavy, or if my attention span is just utter crap at the moment. But I need to finish something.

Maybe someone should come threaten me and give me a deadline to at least finish a first draft of something? ;)