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I wish I was Cis


Blackangel

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I’m so envious of cis people that it’s about to make me cry. They were born correctly, whereas we weren’t. We are the ones lucky enough to have had things go horribly wrong in utero. Cis people obviously have it easier, but more importantly they identify with their gender. They have the correct anatomy. As I said in a post recently, I want the uterus, cervix, ovaries, etc. The woman who has that is making me green with envy. I hate being halfway to who I should have been. By that I mean my mind and brain are entirely female, but my body is male. There are psychologists that believe a possible reason that could explain gender dysphoria is that, in utero the brain literally develops as one sex, but the body develops as the other. It’s an interesting theory in my opinion. But it doesn’t help anything. I still have the wrong 🤬 body. I wish science was advanced to the point that there was a device that could permanently switch two people’s consciousness’s. So that I and a thansman could trade bodies so that we were finally correct. But that will unfortunately never be a reality. I mourn myself. Jennifer never existed in the beginning. There was only an extremely confused, angry, and all around miserable Jared. He is finally dead, and Jennifer is here but still no more happy than before. Yet, cis people are closer to being happy that I ever will be. They can go out the door and are what their body is. They don’t have to try so hard to be seen as who they are. I can’t go out in basketball shorts and a tank top but be seen as female. I have to wear specifically women’s clothes to have a chance of being seen as who I am. And a lot of the time it still doesn’t make a difference. I’m still misgendered. Often the people who are misgendering me are doing it intentionally. Simply because they’re bigots who want to be an 🤬 to try to show some fake superiority. I’d rather be a crippled platypus than a crippled transwoman. This and all the physical diseases I have keep pushing my depression into overtime and I try to kill myself. I tried just a few days ago but, unfortunately, I wasn’t successful and am still here. If I was successful, Adrianne would be released to find a real man who is worthy of her, instead of being stuck with a half and half freak.

 

I truly hate life. Everything about myself, I despise. I’m like Poe in that respect. Born in misery, lived in misery, died in misery. All that’s left is to finally die.

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