what if i just went away
me: -decides to write up a few notes of what i want to say to my roomie-
me: -8 pages later and not done-
me: -singing, between claps- this! is why! i try to confront things! immediately! or else they end up! festering!!! in my brain! i! hate! this!
-overthinks myself into a panic attack-
neat
confronted jj awhile back about the things he did to me. replied to his message awhile back asking for things to “go back the way they used to” saying no, you sexually molested me as a kid, i don’t want to any closer to you no less be your friend.
he recently responded with an email that essentially boils down to this:
“i’m sorry. i was going through a dark time.”
cool. i’ve gone through dark times–still going through dark times, tbh. absolutely no desire to rape someone and then call them ‘sexually perverse’ years later. how about that.
after that, saw him and other family members the day before my birthday. i was a fucking ghost–no one acknowledged me. no one even said a terse “happy birthday”. i didn’t even exist to them.
on my birthday, my dad said he’d send me some money and i was like oh gosh, thanks i really need it with school coming up. money didn’t come through so i texted him that, he texted back that he’d been thinking about me and about family and how broken-hearted he is at the broken relationships (aka he found out that me and jj aren’t on ‘speaking terms’) in our family and he said, literally “will you mend those broken bonds? i don’t know how to do it, and i’m doing my best.” i wrote back, civilly, no because we’re moving to a more honest place and even if that might mean space between us or heartbreak it’ll still be healthier. and if that means those bonds are broken, they were broken before i got here.
i was an idiot though. rereading his text, i realize now it was a veiled command; basically ‘do this, or you won’t get your birthday money’, so! guess i’m not getting that money, haha!
more than the money, i feel the weight of the demand. everyone thinks i “broke” our family–which, honestly, maybe that’s true–and they think it’s my responsibility to fix it (and fixing for them would be “renouncing” my tran-ness) and idk. even if it’s stupid, i feel the weight of that responsibility.
i’m so fucking exhausted.
if something bad happened, like really bad, i have no family that would be able to or willing to take me in or help me out or whatever. if like i had to stay in the hospital like, it’d just be me alone there. like, that’s not new, i’ve had to do that after one of my bad self harm sessions but like. i don’t know. even if they want to control me, they really don’t give a shit.
confronted jj awhile back about the things he did to me. replied to his message awhile back asking for things to “go back the way they used to” saying no, you sexually molested me as a kid, i don’t want to any closer to you no less be your friend.
he recently responded with an email that essentially boils down to this:
“i’m sorry. i was going through a dark time.”
cool. i’ve gone through dark times–still going through dark times, tbh. absolutely no desire to rape someone and then call them ‘sexually perverse’ years later. how about that.
after that, saw him and other family members the day before my birthday. i was a fucking ghost–no one acknowledged me. no one even said a terse “happy birthday”. i didn’t even exist to them.
on my birthday, my dad said he’d send me some money and i was like oh gosh, thanks i really need it with school coming up. money didn’t come through so i texted him that, he texted back that he’d been thinking about me and about family and how broken-hearted he is at the broken relationships (aka he found out that me and jj aren’t on ‘speaking terms’) in our family and he said, literally “will you mend those broken bonds? i don’t know how to do it, and i’m doing my best.” i wrote back, civilly, no because we’re moving to a more honest place and even if that might mean space between us or heartbreak it’ll still be healthier. and if that means those bonds are broken, they were broken before i got here.
i was an idiot though. rereading his text, i realize now it was a veiled command; basically 'do this, or you won’t get your birthday money’, so! guess i’m not getting that money, haha!
more than the money, i feel the weight of the demand. everyone thinks i “broke” our family–which, honestly, maybe that’s true–and they think it’s my responsibility to fix it (and fixing for them would be “renouncing” my tran-ness) and idk. even if it’s stupid, i feel the weight of that responsibility.
i’m so fucking exhausted.
#family #murder #pulse shooting #rape tw & ments
there was the shit with near–and i can’t. i don’t know, how can i blame him when i probably wasn’t giving off negative signals at all?
i think my touch aversion is getting worse, too.
brought up all this shit that happened with star and i keep going over what she did to me and i know i know i know that if i could call what she did by the proper term, what anyone else would call it, i could probably find some closure, but i can only dance around it–the second i think of getting closer it’s like air raid sirens go off and my inner voice gets out a megaspeaker and shouts ‘but you never said no!’
and like, yeah i never said yes either, but i know i me. it’s hard to read me in person, i don’t know if she’d ever even guess i was uncomfortable or confused or not understanding what was happening, wjat she was doing to me.
course she probably still doesn’t know even after our final talk, but i still never said no.
near wants to talk about what happened, but i don’t know how to do that.
i housesat for clara. found something i don’t think i was supposed to find–read it. turns out she doesn’t think i’m trans, thinks this is a phase, thinks i’ve made up this persona because of past traumas. she only calls be jayce and he/him to humor me because i’ve helped her in the past.
it could be worse, it really, really could be. like she’s the only family member of two who have stood up for me, she didn’t have to do that, especially if she doesn’t believe me?
but it… doesn’t feel good. i don’t know what i’m feeling about this, but it doesn’t feel good.
i think i wish i had known? like i’ve gone awhile thinking she’s idk, believed me when i’ve said who i am. and if she’d said she didn’t, whatever, join the club. but. idk.
just feel like shit i guess.
family was here. what can i say about that? same new role that it has been when they’ve been around–guilt, prod, coerce me into being around them, but when i’m there ignore me as much as possible to the point of talking about me when i’m still in the room.
i did a little better this time, tried to correct them on names and pronouns. my mom said sorry exasperatedly once and, besides grimacing, that was it. never once used my right name and proper pronouns.
and just. fuck that. fuck how they treat me, fuck that they tell me they love me. fuck them.
found out about a murder that happened here 20+ years ago. it was a hate crime before crimes against lgbt individuals could be considered hate crimes. a gay man was raped, tortured, then murdered. there was a gag order placed on the trial, in part because of how gruesome it was, but also in part so that the victim’s mormon family wouldn’t have to face any “scandal”.
i found out about this through a local newpaper left on my driveway. the article attempted to make one of the murderers sympathetic and dehumanized the victim and it was just. disgusting? that article was written this week–not twenty years ago, not ten years, a couple days ago.
i’ve been obsessing about it for a few days now. i can’t stop find more and more articles to read and wandering around, trying to place where things happened, trying to find out more about gordon church.
like, thank god this current articls is the one like that. most others at least talk about killers and g. church equally. some do debate whether it was rape (despite it being at knife point) because the victim begged that they at least use a condom.
both murderers tried to use a gay panic response defense and honestly it might have worked if they weren’t trying to throw each other under the bus and being constantly caught in their lies.
that was twenty something years ago, and today we have things like a bullshit article claiming that the crime was 'all but forgotten’ except the murderer who’s life it ruined.
well fuck you. you know whose life it ruined? a promising drama student with friends and family whose life was cut short. those friends and family who faced a gnawing hole where a person once was. those in the lgbt community back then–and now–who have to wonder 'will they kill me if they know’? fuck you.
god i think about heather’s mom who, any time pulse is even mentioned, argues, literally argues! argues that the pulse shooting had nothing to do with “the gays” and that it was just wrong place, wrong time.
fuck you too
the writer said the crime was all but forgotten. god. fuck you, fuck you. even before i knew about it–even though so few people outside of utah might not know–i assure you, so many of us are constantly wondering what might happen to us because of the hate of others. and i assure you, even if i just learned about it, i’m never going to forget about church. not now, not ever.
seriously, fuck you.
i don’t know how to handle this
i swear to god i’m trying but i’m so tired
just kinda heads up, probably gonna delete this blog soon
not really ok rn? but probably will be, idk. just didnt want to cause worry if it disappears