Have you ever had to do something, but had to wait to do it? And in that time of waiting, it seems like time ticks by fast when you need it to slow down, and not fast enough when you want it gone?

I suppose everyone has.

But tuesday is really dragging on my mind.

I mean, yeah, I need to see a therapist. I know I do, and I cant deny that.

But in the same sense....I dont want to. I dread it. I dont want to open up. I dont want to sit down and talk to someone about my broken, ignored childhood. I dont want to talk about how losing my Dad literally destroyed me.

And I do NOT want to talk about being the wrong gender.

I guess there's that little part of me that's just scared of what he/she will say.

I've had so....soooo many people come up to me and say "Maybe its just a phase and you dont know it yet" or "Maybe you started the thought out of the blue, and kept it in mind so much that now you believe it" or my favorite one...."Maybe its just for the attention".

If it were for attention....wouldnt I want everyone to know about it? Wouldnt I go to work and just blabber about it to every coworker and customer I see? Why would it make me break down in tears from depression, knowing I'm alone in it in so many ways? I dont want the attention from it.

I dont need the attention.

I just want....I dont know....acceptance. From myself.

To wake up and look in the mirror and smile instead of cringe. To not have to tug on several compression shirts just to keep myself from breaking down. To not have to wear a sweater to bed because I cant stand to see or feel "them" near me.

I just want to be happy.

This past week has been my own personal version of hell.

And I'm seriously...seriously sad to say this..but I broke my resistence. My one and a half month of harm-freedom had been destroyed. My world came crashing down, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, or tell myself that it would be okay, and believe it.

I've added six little scars to my book of memories, and I'm ashamed of it.

I cant tell what's worse though. The fact that I did it..or the fact that no one notices?

It took my boyfriend a good two months to realize that my left arm was littered. And thats with us sleeping together every night, WITHOUT a long sleeve shirt.

At times it feels like no matter what I do or what I pretend to be...I'm still invisable.

A twenty two year old depressed young man, trapped in the body of a scarred, scared, ashamed girl with next to no career, a failing sense of worth, and a hopeless depth of numb agony.

I know looking up is always the best bet. That no matter how deep the hole gets, I can always look up and try to find that bright blue sky. But lately it seems like that blue sky does nothing but rain on me. And instead of getting an umbrella, all I can find is a lightning rod.

So, yes. I'm nervous to have a therapist. I'm nervous as hell to have all this put out in the air, while physically being in front of someone. Online is one thing. I can hide behind me screen. Shed any tears I need to without anyone noticing. Hide my face away in my hood.

But in front of someone....I cant.

I've broken apart so many times, I'm afraid I'm running out of glue to fix it.

I'm almost giving up on it.

Almost digging out that dress he wants me to wear. Almost putting on that hat til my hair grows back. Almost dressing up like his mother nags at me to do.

I'm just so tired of the agony I have to go through, just to be me.

We dont ask to be transgendered. But it happens regardless.

No matter what your religious views are, since I have none, it's unfair. If its God testing me, I cant help but why? Why test someone in such a cruel way? Test me for what? Well I fail. I chose to fail.

No, I dont have the patience for the crap. No, I'm not compassionate towards those who strike me down. And no, I will not turn the other cheek.

For now, I'll fight with what I have left. And hopefully leave the therapists office on tuesday with some sense of purpose.

Its all I can hope for.

Warren