Heya, Rose here. I'm sorry if I'm scaring you lately. I really am sorry. I never wanted people to worry. The thought of people having to check up on me because I might end myself one day is...I don't like it. Just talk to me normally. But you ARE trying to end yourself Rose! Understand finally that you have seriously worring problems! But I don't want to have them! I don't know when I start to feel so badly I'm trying! Psychologists and doctors keep on asking me when I feel so badly and what do I have to tell them? That it just happens? That from my normal bad state I just sometimes get a mood swing so bad I can't keep going? That I feel nothing as normal and bad just when universe decides to fuck with me? I don't want to keep fucking trying. I put actual fucking effort into feeling anything in general, and whenever I try? I feel fucking terrible. Unless it's with other people, then I feel good. So what do we have? Putting out of misery, numbness beyond human understanding or hell yeah life is good? What a fucking terrible life. Oh yea? Don't say. Uh I just. I really fucking want to be normal, like, actually normal. I want to feel normally, I want to have normal motivation, I want to have goals! Why can't things go how I want them to go! I keep fucking trying! I keep fucking doing stuff to be better! To live better! I keep trying and every time I get punched in the face so hard it knocks everything I've built over. And it is over for me every time. Thought it's gonna be fine, that it's gonna be okay, that sure I did try again but it didn't work because I wasn't brave enough, but that it's gonna be alright and what? Vectra is fucking dead. Front right spring fell from the mount and cut the tire on the inside. I couldn't take it off to put on a spare so I drove to the mechanic on the flat tire that exploded on the way there, the steering assist gave up so I wrestled the car on every turn and roundabout. So, I don't have a car for the next god knows how long and I have only 2k to fix it. If it's more than that? I'm giving up and selling it on the junkyard. It's the only place it's good for. I'm so done with everything this life is throwing at me. I'm tired, I'm fucking tired. I called my work and what the dispather told me? "Oh you want to work? You're not on the list tomorrow, matter of fact, you're not on the list in general." I asked for her to write me but even my boss wrote me to losses. I think my parents even stopped caring so much. They just see me as a bunddle of worries. It really fucking feels like dragging a corpse for me. I don't know if I want to keep going if my life looks like just a fucking struggle. Just struggle.
I had my psychologist vist! First one! Not only she was confused by me being trans and kept asking if calling me Rose and Ms. but she also was pushing me into talking details. It's not like it's bad that she is, but pushing so fucking much when the topics are way too fucking sensitive for me? Fucked. I was not fucking okay. Really not fucking okay. I relived every moment and I had to also fucking describe it in fucking details and after all of that I said that it does not defy me and she fucking questioned that. And I started to question that and like, what if it fucking does? What if it actually defies me? What if I'm just a common whore that never really had the will to protect her bounderies? Rose... Rose and Rose and Rose. It's always fucking Rose. I can't keep fucking going, okay? I did my best! I did all I could! My only ambitions are not even to exist! You think it's all fucking fake? You think that just because I function when I have to - I'm okay? I'm trying to act normal, to be normal, to stop being fucking pathetic.
I hate how my body looks. I always did. Both gender dysphoria speaking and general image. Like, how is it that I barely eat because I don't have money for it, but also I keep on getting fatter? Like, come on, I'm not starving, it shouldn't be like this! First time ever I got called chubby and I don't think I'll recover for that. I need to stop being such a fucking bitch and start training how I can. Eyes are the absolutely only thing I actually still like about my body. Face, hair, arms and hands, legs, chest, stomach, back, everything else is just something I don't even want to think about, let alone look at. Eyes and lips were the only ones I liked always. Now even lips are ugly to me.
Is there even a point of pushing? My girlfriend tells me she will not leave me, that she will stay with me untill the end. I can't even bring myself to say it back. I don't want to lie. I can't tell her that I won't leave because what if I'll actually do it one day? What if I'll not hold back? I can't tell her something I'm not even sure of. I wish I could. I stopped caring about the past, sorry. I am putting my guard down. The pinky promise still stays but I'm not going to be on high alert anymore. It feels the closest to love I've ever been. I mean, love and actually getting to be with that person as a couple, because without the second one, of course I know how it feels.
I just wish she still sees past the the flaws, past the terrible mental, past the shortage in money. That she will not regret bandaging me. That she still wants me.
I want to cry more. I just want to cry. I don't want to be seen as a burden, as a person that keeps on talking about her struggles, I don't fucking want to struggle.
Rose is okay now. Rose is trying and Rose needs to go to sleep because she's working in the morning.
~Love Rose