Schizo? Or, CPTSD? Who Cares! (TRAUMA)

    She was in the bottle a little more than usual, that is to say that she was this way a lot, but that she typically doesn't remember the drunkest parts. And, when she does the tone of the conversation is not properly recited. 

    "Hey." She says,
    "Hey."
    "How are you?"
    "Good"

    "What's with the attitude?" She continues the tone of the conversation as lighthearted small talk, but drops this question that makes my esophagus fall into my spine as vertigo screeches from my brain to my tongue.

    "What attitude?" My genuine shock is still masked. This "wine game" has happened before and it's gaslighting - every time.

    "If you think you can walk into my house and play games with me you got another thing coming. Dad will be here tomorrow," She continues. It's at this moment that I realize that since I walked in the door she has had no audio playing on the TV. To this day, I don't even know how long she was sitting there in silence. I do know that after I left the main floor the sound was still off for the next 10 minutes. I remember because I remember wondering if we both were waiting to read the other and what their next move was - but then thinking she was probably just drunk and staring at the coffee table.

    The next day, Dad came and Mom's story of me coming in, high, and picking a fight with her gets told. It occurs to me she may be doing this intentionally because of something else I did that I just don't remember, but I wasn't high and hadn't gotten high recently enough to fail the drug test, ultimately, that Dad gave. Of course, when I passed the drug test they continued believing I was so smart I could anticipate their actions days in advance instead of realizing the shit they said about how I moved some days, and my bags under my eyes, and the long empty stare... is from trauma, already. I used to get spanked any time my Mom wanted a decade or so before the 'wine games' happened and - most of the time I was in the wrong. But, I'm talking about the thing that actually took the light from my eyes: watching her get it wrong more and more. I don't remember what the spankings were about, but I remember being triggered and reliving it vividly in these moments where I notice she has lost just a little more of her mind.

    I kind of skip past it in my memory, but then they accused me of beating the drug test. They honestly didn't believe that I wasn't on drugs. I don't think they realized how absolutely dehumanizing it felt to be told your natural state of being looks like a drug and not you. Of course, I didn't understand that I had a mental illness that was showing up very heavily, I just knew that if I used drugs more often I could say it was drugs and no one would bat an eye - except for my parents, who would have flipped about it even if I wasn't doing drugs. I'm not sure they realized that I got the idea to medicate by using drugs, indirectly, from my parents. To any parents reading this, obviously please observe this pain that I have because I will never confront them about this. I can hear their response already.

"Oh, so it'S MY FAULT THAT YOU GOT INTO DRUGS?!?!"

    Which is not what it is. There were multiple times that - by trying to shame me for doing drugs, but doing so when I'm actually sober - you turned me back into drugs. You were the reality around me that didn't change when I did. And, when I started getting short and panicky you diagnosed my emotions as proof that I'm still doing drugs. What if I have CPTSD from being sexually groomed because I told the neighbor I felt like a girl and the neighbor... tried to groom me into a man?

I mean, to all of you that want to know my sexual trauma just because I'm trans, would that surprise you at this point? My assaulter told me to 'be a man' about it - and when I told my Mom she said 'that doesn't make you less of a man' but the point was never manly in the first place, it was statutory rape. I confided in someone, they used that to get their own thing they wanted, and literally no one gave a fuck. It was stolen. I didn't tell Mom for years later that the assault happened. I couldn't try to tell her what I told my assaulter, that I was trans, because FUCK. THE FIRST TIME A SAID ANYTHING A WAS GROOMED BY A YOUNG, MASC GAY MAN. 

    Just don't assume mental states when someone is withdrawn, it's bullshit.
Stop with the whole, "You either need to get off drugs, or start some new ones" attitude.
Stop pretending you are sensitive to mental illness if you do this shit, because you're not.

    So, yeah I'm a trans woman that really took a while to trust Men in general and learned very young that my parents and my abuser agree - what happened to me doesn't effect my gender at all. It's just some of you out there that want to paint a picture of some tranny groomer going house to house and transing kids. No, most of the time it's just a fag or breeder or anyone else that doesn't think regularly about removing their genitalia from their entire life. I have enough narc supply to be a bigot against ALL OF YOU. I am not trans because I was groomed. I was groomed because I was a vulnerable minor. I was a vulnerable minor because I had gender dysphoria.

So I say to the imaginary,
"NO ONE IS SAYING IT WAS YOUR FAULT I DID DRUGS, I'M SAYING I DIDN'T HAVE THE SUPPORT I NEEDED BECAUSE IT WAS A VERY PARTICULAR AND SPECIFIC KIND OF HELP THAT WASN'T VERY WELL KNOWN AT THE TIME AND YOU SAYING I LOOKED LIKE A DRUGGIE WHEN I WAS JUST STRUGGLING MADE IT WORSE."

    And, more so added to the formation of the self-medicating behavior. But, drugs really weren't the only thing that destroyed my life after that. Drugs and I did that together, as a team from hell. Then I soon became a worse version of my mother. I'm not hiding behind a glass of wine, I'm hiding 1.5g of meth in my water bottle and only planning on being alive until 20 like my father. Because, you see, they did groom me into a man. Perhaps I don't make a good man? Perhaps - neither was my father?

Anyway, I stopped doing a lot of illegal shit to go to treatment, came out as trans in treatment - DIDN'T GET SEXUALLY EXPLOITED - and really never went back.

So.

If it's okay for me to call myself a Woman, then it's okay for you to call me a Man.
Just don't make me, and I wouldn't even dream of trying to make you.
At the end of the day I love all three of my parents, both of them equally XD
Even when I look at the worst memories of my Mother, it's nothing I can't understand.
And, my dad is a much better investigator than her, but he loves her.

I've always felt alien.
God, why have you forsaken me?