There have been so many times I have wished I could leave my past behind me, all of the memories and emotions. The faces and whispering memories of disappointment looks and cutting words. All of the lost hopes and dreams. Yet when I pause even for a second I find they are right behind me waiting for a moment of weakness.
The occasional stillness within is proven to be the quiet in the eye of the storm.
Since I have never known anything other than constant doubt, fear, and pain, I cannot say if this is true for anyone else. I simply know it is my reality and trying to rise above it has proven pointless as the darkness arises each time to engulf me.
I bring this up to explain why it seems I cannot push forward to become who or what I could be. Why, as soon as it seems I might find happiness and acceptance of myself it is all ripped away in a cataclysm of pain and self loathing.
It leaves me wondering how I can ever come to terms with being transgender when all I can do is rip myself apart with claws and teeth of my own making. Then again it might not make a difference when I can’t help thinking transitioning won’t make a difference, I’ll be just as broken as I am now.