And then I died
Today is a post about depression, suicidal thoughts and dissociation, with a bit of dysphoria. We'll talk about surviving and living. We'll talk about the way too ignored wounds healing can leave on your soul. It's hard to talk about it without talking about my life first so excuse the very long introduction. But some things need to be said in order to be understood.
Putting The Lines by Twenty One Pilots because I think it translates my feelings very well, not perfectly, but close enough.
I was broken
As you know, I'm disabled and neuroA. It led to a lot of traumas because of ableism, because of psychophobia, because of medical abuses, because of death, because of pain, because of loneliness.
And so ultimately traumas and its own issues.
Have you ever faced your own death ? Have you ever seen your family being told to get ready to tell you good bye while begging you to not give up in their own silent way ? Have you ever felt your body and mind slowly preparing you to your own death ?
Well I did and I can tell you you don't go through that experience without a few scars.
The problem when you're dying is how your mind kind of adapt to it. As much as you want to live, you also don't want to, you stop projecting, you stop dreaming and you stop hoping. The brain is programmed to live, but it's also programmed to die.
I survived because I didn't want to hurt the people I love, so I worked hard to survive. But when I did I find myself empty. I had no purpose anymore. Death took away all my dreams and goals so the only thing remaining was survival. Once I achieved that, I had nothing left. And it can be hard to understand if you never went through this (and I hope you won't) but being left with no purpose like an empty shell is harder than actually dying.
And I kept trying to build myself back in vain.
According to some old letters I found, I always had a very fragile health and a shit tons of issues. But it started getting really bad when I turned 11. That's when the first fracture happened.
Suddenly I got sad, I got fat, I got shy. I used to be a ball of energy, a very social little sunshine surrounded by a lot of friends and I loved talking with people and going out and seeing new things. Learning also, I loved school and I had very good grade. I wanted to be an archaeologist or a paleontologist, I dreamt of knowledge and adventures basically and my brain was full of stories like Jurassic Park or Tomb Raider so it didn't really matter if it was to find a mummy or dinosaur, I wanted to go seek adventures, History, Art and knowledge. I loved going to museums, visiting gardens, wandering in forests with my grandpa and siblings, walking for hours in the countryside and picking up berries and snails to eat at the next Christmas (don't judge it until you try it fellas !), swimming and fishing in little rivers.
Then when I turned 11, I changed, I started becoming withdrawn. Shy. Sad. I had no friends anymore, I didn't feel comfortable around people anymore. I didn't like adventures anymore. I didn't like things anymore. My body was heavy and shameful, my mind even more.
And of course people tell you "they're teenager, it's a phase, it will get better" so nobody truly pay attention to that. My mom did, however, for a long time she struggled with doctors who all ignored me because I was also getting fat and you know it if you have health issues while being fat, everything is about it when it's not. So it was a combinaison of "stop eating you'll get better" (and I insist on the "stop" eating and how violent it is to hear that as a teenager, I don't know how I managed to not develop eating disorders after that) and "it's a normal teenage thing". I'm glad my mom was always fighting for me because I gave up on myself. To me, I was that lazy fat piece of shit doctors said I was because they're doctors so they're right. None of them took the time to actually look at me, test me or even read the blood test other doctors had me do but they were right, I was the problem. And today, even with all the proof I have, with the scanners and blood tests and MRI and every other tests I did, a part of me still believe I have nothing. Impostor syndrome has many shapes and it's one of them.
I felt like I didn't deserve to live.
When I reached 18, it blew up. My health totally collapsed with me. I had to stop school.
It was my last year in high school and in France at the end of high school you have the Baccalauréat, which is a final examen in June/July and a very important moment for any French teenager. It's useless nowaday, let's be honest, but it's still an important symbol of becoming an adult, you don't wanna fail it.
So I forced myself to still go to school, I would collapse after one hour, or less. Having huge fever. Ending up with the nurse calling my parents to pick me up because I felt once again in the corridors. It was the moment I switched again. After that, everything went dark.
Literally, actually, because I don't remember shit lol, all I remember is how it lasted 10 years, how I met my fiance and how much I suffered.
My life wasn't mine anymore, I wasn't me anymore. I can't really name what "I" was. A shadow maybe, a shell, a poser and a liar. Felt like a parasite, wearing my skin while I'm still somewhat "here", a lethargic prisoner observing from afar that parasite moving in my own skin, talking to people I love, pretending to be me while I'm on the ground, too weak to even mutter something, or to want to mutter something, not fully conscious of what is happening around me but not unconscious enough to not mind. I have little flashes of these 10 years, mostly related to my fiance who was able to make me so happy I could, for a moment, be "me" enough to remember, everything else feels like watching a picture of someone else's childhood.
Maybe I never wanted to be that person in the first place.
When I reached 28, I changed again. I started losing weight after finally finding a balanced treatment and it was kind of an epiphany to me. In the way that I've been told forever that I'd stay fat because of my health and stuff and I wasn't anymore, so what else was wrong about all the pessimist doomed shit I've been told ? That's what had me switch again, that desire to prove everyone's wrong. Born of anger and spite. A deep desire of vengeance against people and life. If anything losing weight is when you see how unfair and hypocrite people can be, the ableism, the cruelty is way more visible once you see how being treated as a human being feels like and it feels so unfair when the reason to that sudden misericordia is "you lost weight and you're now conventionally attractive so you deserve to be a person". It was already hard for me to trust, given all the abuses and shame I've been through, but it made it even worst. A deep rancor was born of it and I needed to express it and make them pay and become better than all the people who shrunken me.
At the time I thought I was happy, but boy how fucking miserable I truly was. That's when most people who still follow me today and who read this knew me so they know what I'm talking about. How everything annoyed me, how I spent my time fighting people, not even to show them how wrong they were because it was an absolute certainty, but to brag, to humiliate.
But I was also kind. A bit too much, in fact, it brought me a lot of troubles because I couldn't put strong enough walls between me and people and I guess I let them believe in a connexion and intimacy that didn't exist. Not consciously, but it did make me feel good to be admired and praised. I don't justify some of the insane shit people pulled on me, like faking suicide to get my phone number, but I do think I have a part of responsibility by just not having the courage to be clear enough right away. I mean, I did push people away, but too late and I'm sure a few of them would have been better off if I did that sooner.
But it gave sense to my suffering to believe I was using it to help strangers. People had a ear to listen to them and I could forgive myself for being weak and allowing these weakness to bring even more pain and trauma in my life. I don't consider myself weak anymore, but I did at the time. I was upset with myself for being traumatized, for not wanting to do things because it scared me out. So I would hide the disorders born of it. Anxiety, dissociation and everything else. I was doing things to please people I love rather than for myself. I thought I was living through them, pretending to enjoy all the things they had me do, but eventually the truth caught up with me and slowly I spiraled into depression again. I had suicidal thoughts, pulsions even. And it's insanely scary, having your mind and body behaving against your will. I didn't want to die but if I was left alone in front of a rail I would have jumped under the train with no second thought anyway. In January 2022 I asked for help 'cause I just couldn't do it alone anymore, I couldn't pretend I was ok. Everything gave me strong panic attack again (it's a state I had during that black out I don't remember, but because I don't remember it I can't really tell if it was worst or not, I just know it happened like you know some event happened because you see it on the news without witnessing it).
And I thought it was my life now, just pain. I was willing to live like this for people I love, if you call this living. I thought it was ok enough.
I remember watching the news and everytime they would talk about someone's death I'd think "I wish it was me" and this thought felt like a knife going through your heart. It's not your voice, but it's yours so it's threatening. The only moment I felt like living was worth it was when I had my brother's kids around. They truly have an amazing power. During that period, Stromae's live performance on prime time happened and it helped me a lot to understand what I was going through, his words were the exact words I was trying to put on my suffering (you can put English subtitle) I'd suggest to listen to the full video and you'll get why it hit me so so hard. And to this day this is still the best description of how I felt back then, better than any words I could ever write.
My whole hormonal system is fucked up and you know how important hormon are for your whole body functioning, but also for you mind. All the illnesses I have induce suicidal thoughts and depression already but I've also been recently diag autistic and ADHD so I live in a world designed to make me feel overwhelmed and it predisposes me to depression too, because I overthink and I overthought suicide which led to me wanting to die to stop it, so that's a nasty little cocktail I have in my body and my head. I'm lucky, I have a very good loving and strong circle. My family, my friends, my lover and even people online I don't know. I have a lot of support and this support was the reason I kept going on.
That same month of January, one of the person who once DMed me to tell me I helped them stay alive took off their life and it hurt so much. Maybe I wouldn't care this much if I wasn't feeling the same way that day, but it hurt and it still hurt. You can't help but think "I should have saved them, they were in my DMs literally two weeks ago, I should have saved them" and from that tragedy an idea was born, what would people think if I kill myself ? I don't have a huge following, but I have people who care for me even if I don't necessarly see or hear them, what would they think ? I just didn't want them to feel as helpless and guilty (because feeling bad over someone else's tragedy also add to the guilt) as I was and it helped me keep going. I had this very egocentrism thought that I mattered enough in their life to impact it through my death, so I had to stay alive.
People often feel useless, but they don't realize the power they hold. Smiling at someone, holding them the door, throwing a compliment, these are easy little attention that can literally change someone's day and even save someone's life. In a society built on hate and fear, compassion and kindness is a strength and an act of resistance.
But having so much support can be very painful, in the way that you feel bad for feeling so alone when you're not. It's not a matter of physical presence, though it does help a lot, it's not a matter of being vocal, though it does help too. It's a matter of self-flagellate. You feel alone because nobody can understand and nobody can understand because you don't want to share and you don't want to share because you don't want to hurt and you don't want to hurt because you fear being abandonned, even if you know it won't happen. You do that to yourself. Because in these moments, you feel like you have no worth and you fear that one day the people you love will see you with your eyes and think you're worthless too, so you pretend to be strong and you hide all your struggles and you suffer alone in silence and then feel even worst because you're alone in the middle of a loving circle. And it's your fault.
Well, of course it's not, these are basic mechanisms of depression and we all go through that but logic doesn't matter, it's your fault and the more logic people try to force in you, the more painful it gets, because you can't rationalize any of this and it adds even more weight to that pain. There's a reason people often depict depression as a presence or a bag on their shoulder that get bigger and heavier, because that's how everthing feels like.
I think one of the hardest part of depression and suicidal mindset is how you think you can never recover from it. Doesn't matter how many successful story you read about it, you're "different", it won't apply to you. That the kind of egocentrism I was talking about above, egocentrism is not necessarly about thinking you're better than anyone else or being proud of yourself, egocentrism also means thinking you're not like the others, in the worst too. We're not like the others, our pain is deeper, stronger and we, on the opposite, are weaker. So it doesn't matter if someone got better, it's not happening to you. And it's not worth it either. How many time did I see or even think myself "if I gotta wait until I'm in my 40s to feel better then it's just not worth it anyway" until I got close to my 40s and felt better and realized it was ? So I know no matter what I say or do, people will still think my experience is just the proof I'm strong and they're weak, that's it. Because that's how I felt too. But it was never strength, hidding how wounded I was is cowardice. I was a coward, like everyone else. It requiert way more strength to admit you're unwell that pretending you are to avoid being forsaken. The feeling of screaming in a void you built, this loneliness isn't strength nor resilience.
How do you cope with that loneliness ? How do you find the strength to live for yourself when you already accepted your faith and gaslighted yourself into thinking it was good enough ? That it was beautiful, even, the beautiful act of living through and for people you love even in the deepest pain, trapped in your own mind by your own love.
Well, through love.
If you're familiar with my blog and my posts about my life, you certainly know what happened in September 2022.
And like I once said, it was everything to me. I was in a state of emptiness and suffering so deep, nothing made me happy in a while and I was trying to cling to whatever was left of me and my passions, through Sam. Having Tim coming back to reprise his role as Sam was like seeing a light in an endless nightmare. I wanted to follow that light, to see where it would lead me.
In fact that's how I remember that day, I find it fascinating how the brain will twist everything and romantice the simplest moments of your life. And it did, that day too. I see myself laying in my bed, having to deal with yet another failure. My fiance was in another country, having fun and I was there, alone, because I was too weak to try to overcome my fears and go with him. Splatoon 3 came out the day before that D23 and I was playing it while pretending everything was fine so my fiance wouldn't worry too much, even if he would inevitably worry, enough to have him enjoy his weekend in Italia with his friends at least. And in my memories everything was so dark. Granted it was night time so that doesn't help but y'know, I don't like darkness, I always have a light on and so I certainly did that day but in my memories it was dark. Even through the light of my TV, my Switch 2 and my computer on which I was following D23 tweets. It was dark. And heavy. I use "heavy" a lot but that's how I feel, like a weight on your head an body. A dark and heavy matter swallowing you. And I was genuinely trying to have fun, as impossible as it was given the circumstances and my own guilt. But I was trying. I was hoping for a good news to help me out that day, I'm not a believer but I prayed for a good news that day, like I prayed many other days in vain. I joked about it online "we all know there's only one thing that could make me hyped anyway", people saw it as yet another "please bring back Sam in the MCU" joke that I'd do to any SDCC or D23 for years and a post about how BORING this D23 was (because it started really slow that day before we got a shit tons of news) but it was a real cry for help, it was my reality. And so, I know I wrote all that already but it's not like you folks will go and read that other post about it anyway, so I was listening to a live stream of someone reading tweets and commenting them since D23 had no live streaming. So I could play with my Switch and talk to my fiance without having to directly keep an eye on my computer y'know. And in my memory, while every other moment are dark, the moment I heard "Tim Blake Nelson is back to portray the Leader" on that stream, the lights are on. That's a fun little detail that shows how memories are impacted and modified by your feelings back then but also nowaday.
Tim became my light. Because he made me desire. For the first time in forever, I wanted to do something for me and me alone. Even if it was as simple as "I want to see this movie in an actual theater" while suffering a severe agoraphobia, it's still your own wish, for yourself. Not to please anyone, for me. And in that blinding light I understood what my fiance meant everytime he said "I don't want you to live for me, I want you to live with me". That's why I'm so attached to him, even though I've been saying forever that being a fan of a real person was dumb and even dangerous. After all "parasocial relationship" is a hellah scary and negative expression. But is it ? I don't think it's necessarily negative, I'll write about it so I'm not gonna talk too long about that here on an already way too long post, but I do believe parasocial relationship can be good as long as you know it's parasocial and doesn't bring you any frustration.
But you don't heal in a snap and healing itself is often a hell or a ride. It's scary, it's painful. It's often easier to accept your tragic faith than trying to make it comfortable. People are often blamed because "stop indulging yourself in this situation" and people will often answer "it's not a choice nor do I enjoy it" and it partially true. Truth is, we do "enjoy" it. Obviously we don't enjoy it per say, but we did convince ourself that it was the comfortable option. Because healing and resilience ARE hurtful and hard and it's not something you can understand until you have to fight yourself and all the internalized ableism you have in you to get better.
"disability is worst than death"
You can't blame people for not wanting to live when they've been hearing that their whole life.
Maybe that's why I kept failing.
This desire to do something for myself left me in a weird in between. I was still sinking, or rather struggling not to, instead of sinking I was struggling to stay on the surface, but still in the dark. Still in the dark. Though this time, in the way I visualize it, there were stars in the dark sky and my head was out of the water. There's no sound but the sound of my own struggling, my own tired breath and my arms moving frenetically to make my head stay out of the water.
Because that's how I can "remember" and talk about past periods, through images like these. For exemple, I see my childhood through a garden in a sunny last afternoon of August, a wall made of stones with a tilted tree behind it and that's this warm nostalgic light piercing through the leaves that I see and the screams and laughers of children playing that I hear. A sweet and sad nostalgia, the kind of comforting sadness you feel the last days of August before you go back to school full of memories of your Summer Break, happy it happened but sad it's over. For my teenager years until my 18, I see a big city made of tall brutalist grey buildings in a very noisy city, a rainy grey day. There's no colors, it's full of cars and ghosts passing through, barely any light, similar to a dusk under a gray cloud with no colors and just so many sounds. The sounds of cars, of honking, of emergency sirens, of people walking by fast without looking at you, of imperceptible jabbers. For the years after that, it's a big black block, nothing can break through it. No light, no color, no sound, no picture, nothing. And nowaday, today I see the sea. An endless blue sea under a blue sky properly embellished with a few fluffy white clouds. It's calm but not silent, you can hear the waves and the wind. The light reflecting on the water lapping, on the clouds as well (and yes, that's basically the header I drew for my blog for that reason) and everything is blue, like an aquamarine zircon. A beautiful endless blue sea I watch with a sad and comforting serenity.
Because I needed to be something else.
But anyway, I don't remember this in-between period very well, ever since I switched to the person I am now I started forgetting and it's typical of my life. I have little to no memories and the few I have makes me feel an indiscriptible anguish.
But I do know I did my best. That's when I started highly limiting my time on social medias, going to doctors even though I have an insane phobia of hospitals and doctors. I tried to at least make that severe anxiety and agoraphobia I was dealing with somewhat acceptable enough to go out and sit in a theater for two hours to see Captain America Brave New World. It was so important to me that in the letter my doctor wrote to my neurologist it was written "they're very concerned by how they can't go to theater anymore".
I wrote a fan letter to Tim (don't judge me alright) which obviously led nowhere and hopefully he never got it (the tracking stopped working so I can't tell lol) because while I don't remember it, I know I was in a state of madness strong enough to have it be probably very unhinged and annoying to read and that's not the image I wanna left on someone I admire LOL. But I kept the little note you get when you ship something with a tracking number nonetheless. Because it was my little motivation to go on. When I had panic attack everytime I tried to go outside, it was my little charm to calm me down. I don't regret writing this letter, even if it wasn't from "me" but from the echo of something I was trying to become, or in the opposite not to become. Because it helped me, to make a promise to someone who wouldn't be here to feel disappointed if I fail, who wouldn't worried over me and add to this weight on my shoulders. And that's when parasocial can be so beautiful, because you can promise the world to someone who means so much to you without actually having to do shit, because they will never know you, nor your failures. But a promise nonetheless so you do find the strength to try to keep it. You have nobody to impress but you. The feeling of doing something for someone else because you don't know how to care about yourself yet while doing this for you and you only.
So I stared at this light.
I made a whole post explaining why seeing Captain America Brave New World was important to me like I said, but I never wrote a follow up. I never wrote what happened after that.
I saw the movie the night of the 13th of February. Movies comes out in Wednesday in France, but my fiance was working. He took his Friday off so he could come the Thursday evening and watch it with me. So I would have to wait only one day, because he knew how important it was to me. We went at 9 PM, he rushed and barely ate to be there on time, just so I could see it as soon as possible.
My health wasn't good, I was still depressed, it was cold, my body was weak and I spent the whole two hours focusing on my legs, trying to make them stop shaking.
Was it fear ? Was it excitation ? Was it the cold humid weather ? I cannot tell. It temporary stopped during one moment thought.
And at first nothing.
And at first, I felt nothing. I came out of the theater and stayed very silent in the car, lost in my own thoughts, except I didn't have any. An absolute silence. Lost in emptiness. As if I was in a "off" button. Eating popcorn from my Red Hulk bucket, because of how good it was. And that fact alone should have been enough to have me understand what was going on.
I hate the taste of popcorn.
It bothered me, the thought that I might feel nothing over MCU Sam. After all these years of joking about it, all these years of being so serious about it, of working so hard just to see it. I was expecting to feel either excited or disappointed but certainly not nothing. I went to bed bothered by this feeling but what else could I do.
So I kept staring. The day after, we went to a huge mall with an arcade game place. I had a very pleasant morning, a lot of fun and I really wasn't thinking about anything but my romantic St Valentine going so smooth. To the point that I didn't even realize it was my very first St Valentine at all, after 14 years of dating, because I couldn't go outside before.
I was just living the moment. After that, we went eating to a Diner, I love the 50s ambiance of these restaurants and it's not really a common thing in France (neither were arcade game places, even if lately it seems a bit more common). It was in front of a theater so from my sit I had the ad for Captain America Brave New World playing non stop in front of me, right behind my fiance, so I was seeing it everytime I looked at him (meaning a lot, he's absolutely beautiful). And the more I looked at it, the more I realized how much I loved it. Of course it's far from perfect, there's a lot to complain about and I already did (the way they censored my boy, for exemple) and I'll still do. But I had a great time and I was suddenly realizing I did.
I got sick, which is quite common, the usual strong nausea and heat sensation I used to get daily. Usually I would just run away, ask to go back home in panic, because one of my illness make it kinda deadly to vomit, which led to a strong emetophobia and combined to a severe anxiety and agoraphobia it results in panic attack when it happens outside. But when my fiance casually told me let's go back home I said no, no I'm fine, I just need some fresh air and some time and it will go away by itself. And we kept wandering in that mall for hours, visited a few shop until I was too tired to keep going. It was February so night felt quite quick, we went back home under this beautiful sunny sunset and I started crying. And it felt like it was the first time I was crying in forever. It wasn't, but it felt this way and this relieving. And when my fiance started panicking, asking me what's wrong ready to pull over I just said without even thinking "I don't know, I'm just so happy to be here, right here, right now".
And under that sunset, I felt like a baby crying as they breath for the first time. In pain, in tears, but in relief. I felt alive. And after that everything changed.
I learnt later that I suffer a dissociative identity disorder without possession. It's different from what people think about when they hear "DID". I don't have alters per say, or I do but they're all me and they don't "possess" me nor do they live at the same time. Each life feels like "me", making it hard to identify them right away, it usually take time. But they're all different.
For exemple, in this life I love popcorn.
Your tastes change, your feelings change, the way you perceive everything change. You feel like you lived many lives already and like your past isn't yours. When you watch pictures from your past or have a faded memory crossing your mind, you have a very disturbing feeling. A vertigo, a strong discomfort. And you feel like you're watching someone's else life, a dead person you should know but can't remember.
I lived different lives, my first life until my 11-12, then I became someone else until my 18 when my health was at its worth, then this 3rd person I do not know nor remember existed until I was around 28, then until September 2022 and until the 13th of February 2024.
Captain America Brave New World was basically the switch that woke me up, the me I am now. That's why I was feeling so numb for a moment, that's why I felt as lost as someone who suddenly wake up in a world they don't know. Because I was. After two months, I thought it was merely an euphoria. But after 16 months, this euphoria that I thought was temporary was still here. And today, after 31 months, it's still here. And it's weird, really, because I have all the reason to feel down on every aspect of my life, but I still have this euphoria. The euphoria of a kid discovering the world.
But even with this euphoria, not everything is all good and positive. Because everything changed overnight.
I woke up in a life that isn't mine.
With habits that aren't mine, with tastes that aren't mine, with relationship that aren't mine (except for the very important ones, like my closest friends, my family, my beloved, my love stayed the same, stronger even), with a closet full of clothing that aren't mine, in a body that doesn't feel mine and memories that aren't mine. It feels like I was thrown in a life that isn't mine with a gun on my head and someone saying "now make it yours".
I'm 37, I'm nearly 40 and everything is getting INSANELY frustrating because I'm terribly self-aware of the time I lost. So every single day I lose is adding frustration in my life. I'm thorn in this euphoria that doesn't stop and to which I'm still not so used and this very upsetting frustration and negativity of still being stuck in this life I'm trying to leave, let it be metaphorically or physically. Basically I'm dysphoric.
And it was scary. It's not just a gender dysphoria, well there's that too, I do feel way more masculine in this life than in my previous. When it comes to relationship, for exemple, I have a hard time seeing myself as hetero when I'm around my fiance. I'm bisexual and being attracted to women feels natural to me, I've always been mostly into women in fact, my fiance is one of these few exceptions that had me think I was bisexual and not exclusively into women. If I started dating a woman, I'd feel very uncomfortable calling myself a lesbian, it would feel hetero to me because it feels like I'm following the het norm. But when I'm with a man I feel gay. I was asked "maybe you're just a closeted trans guy". I know for a fact dissociative disorder can also induce switch in genders even when there's no possession so maybe, in a way.
I've always felt non-binary and masculine, even as a child. In high school I had this little seagull that was meant to represent me and he had "he/him" pronoun and the description was "is he a man ? A woman ? Nobody can tell but he likes presenting himself as a boy". But this seagull was me. I always had this notion of masculinity and non-binarity and confusion in the way I perceived myself, but it became way stronger since I switched to the me I am now. It's becoming harder to ignore how it makes me feel good to be confused for a guy, how het and lesbian sex disgust me while I feel attracted to gay sex, how I feel annoyed everytime someone I don't know call me "she".
Maybe I'm just a fucking coward who's too scared to have to go through the pain and rejection of a trans life, maybe I'm scared of losing my fiance who is straight and would probably not enjoy dating a guy. Maybe I'm none of that and I'm just a lost woman who play dress up. What do I know.
I know I'm feeling very euphoric and happy pretending to be a guy online for sure, where nobody can judge me through my body, voice and past lives. I know I feel uncomfortable when people I don't know call me "she". But at the same time, I'm very comfortable and ok at the thought of being a daughter, a wife, a sister and a aunt. I'm only comfortable being a she around people I know and trust and who don't judge me through what's between my legs or the gender I look but for the person I am. Around anyone else, I'd rather be the boy I project everytime I draw MCU Sam. And I'll be 100% honest, I am so fucking scared at the thought of being a transman. Who in his right mind would love to pretend to be trans in a world like that ? I know if I'm a transman my life would be an even bigger mess, I can't have hormons because that's kind of the point of my illnesses, my hormonal system doesn't work. I can't have surgery because my health won't allow that, I will never be accepted as a boy because I'll never fit as one, I will be rejected by people I love probably. And the fact that I did think about all that already fucking freak me out because yes, I do know a cis girl nor a non-binary lad would be this scared at a "what if I was a man" casual thought and overthink it, to the point of crying sometimes, if they weren't feeling this way. But I don't want to be a man either and I just can't grasp if the reason to that is because I'm scared or because I'm uncomfortable being a dude too.
This is where I kindly ask you to not give me tips on that regard, my self-discovery journey and the way I see my gender and whether or not I'm comfortable with that is mine and mine alone.
I don't know what I am and I don't know what I want to be.
But still, it's not a gender dysphoria. I have quite a non-binary mindset and even if I started feeling exclusively a man this mindset wouldn't change. I don't believe in gender norms, I believe in my own personal vision of what is masculine (which isn't normed at all, you'll know if you look at my arts LOL) or femininity, I do believe masculinity requiert femininity and the other way around. So I don't mind being a dude with a fem face and boobs, basically. I don't mind dressing "girly", putting on makeup and jewerlies (in fact I do believe straight cis men should do that lol).
And I really didn't mind having people seeing me as a woman. But now I do and it's freaking me out.
It's not just that, it's a different form of dysphoria. I'm uncomfortable with my previous lives.
Because the person I was meant to be isn't the person I am. When I was a kid, I used to love working out, I loved taking risk and having fun with rollerblade in the middle of a road (empty road, don't tell my mom alright) and falling on the ground without fearing hurting myself. Don't get me wrong, I was a very wise kid, the kind of nerd who would absolutely follow most rules. But I enjoyed being reckless in my games from time to time. I was thin, I was very popular with people and I had way too many friends. But I was also very socially awkward, so go figure.
As I grew up, as I lived another life, I became more cowardly. Of course it's also because my health issues and lack of cortisol make it complicated to have a little bobo that will break all the very thin balance of all my other treatments and illnesses and fuck me up physically and psychologically. So yeah, make sense that I grew very cowardly.
But it annoys me. This fear, as natural and normal as it is given the situation, doesn't feel like mine. It's not mine, I shouldn't be feeling it, it shouldn't prevent me from doing whatever the fuck I wanna do. It's not my fear and it makes it not only INSANELY frustrating and somewhat painful, but it makes me feel terrible about myself. Like I said, I was thin. But obviously when you develop a shit tons of hormonal issues you either get too thin or too fat. Got the fat one.
And that weight gain, I got it when I was already a teen, already in another life and while I did lose nearly 40kg when I got a balanced treatment for most of these issues, I still had fat (I'm 61kg for 1m58 and this is the lowest I ever been since I'm a teen, I lost weight recently, I was more around 68kg these past few years) and of course I have lose skin, lots of lose skin on my arms, legs and belly and it honestly doesn't disturb me that much, I can live with that, the problem isn't that I was fat nor that I have lose skin, the problem is neither the fat nor the lose skin feels like "mine", so I have a "this is unfair" feeling. You won't make me feel bad about myself for having it, I won't feel ugly and I won't get it removed or anything (it would be complicated anyway, as I said earlier, but even if I could I wouldn't), I really don't think removing it would change how I feel anyway, I mean, it's MY body, I don't feel shame over the strong little vessel that made me live and survive through the worst, I have a lot of respect for it in fact. But it feels like someone was wearing my skin and left their mark on it and it's a gross feeling, if that makes sense. I shouldn't be "like this" because I didn't experience turning like this, it feels like I woke up in this body that isn't mine, nor a proper reflexion of my lifestyle.
But my body and fears aren't my only issues.
I was never able to choose who to be.
I have "friends" that I don't know, or rather I know them but the me I am would never be their friend, I don't like being around them. I feel too old, too different, too annoyed by their childish little vendetta and problems. Y'know the generation gap between me and people 20 years older than me isn't nearly as big as the gap between me and people who are 10 years younger than me. I don't feel comfortable around people who are less than 30, I feel like talking to children (and honestly most of them behave like children). I don't care about social media anymore, I do enjoy talking on them (especially about Sam), sharing and watching arts, but I don't use them to do more than that, unlike the previous "me" who wasn't me who was addicted to it (and yes, I guess you feel like I post a lot, but consider this my previous me was making 200 000 posts A YEAR, not counting retweets, I barely reached 10K post of bluesky in like 3 years, counting the reposts and answers to other post the 200K posts a year didn't count) and who needed to share every aspect of their life and get praised. Well that's the kind of people I can't stand anymore. I'm no longer chronically online, I'm no longer angry online and it makes me feel uncomfortable to think about my relationship with social media before I switched to the person I am now. That's why I started over an X account instead of re-using my big one and why I removed all the "last post" from social media I used to put on my blog when I redesigned it. I do have link to them, it's connected to my work and unfortunately you do need to have a presence online in my field to get orders and pay your bills. So I still post a lot, but not nearly as much as I used to and not so much about me and certainly not to argue.
I wanted and needed to start over. I am not the "me" who would easily fight people and get praised for that (and you're all part of the problem for enjoying violence online, "deserved" or not and for rewarding it). I'm calmer and in a way colder because I don't allow people to break my boundaries anymore and if someone annoy me I'll let them know with an indifferent pragmatism. I'm more humble, in that way, I don't pretend I can help everybody anymore. It doesn't prevent me from building strong friendship like I did recently with someone who will recognize himself, I don't cut myself from people and the world, but the way I socialize, as awkward as it still is because I'm still autistic, is way healthier and more natural.
Sure I have little to no visibility, barely any followers but at least it's MY account, with people who follow "me", not "them" (by them I mean the previous "me"). My work, my personality. It's an account I can look at and think "I did it myself".
But I had some of their "friends" coming back to this account, which is normal of course. But it's complicated when you don't follow them back, or unfollow. Oh I do, 'cause it's still better than pretending (both for me and the people I can't befriend anymore) but I don't feel good doing so, I don't want them to think "did I do something bad?", how am I supposed to explain "I can't befriend the person you are anymore" without making them feel bad ? It's a me issue, but there's no gentle way to explain it without having them think they are fucking annoying y'know ? You have someone who consider you a good acquaintance at best and a good friend at worst and you have to tell them basically "yeah you kind of annoy me now ? I don't like your energy anymore ?" there's no gentle way to say or express that nor a way to not make it about themself. But I don't want to fake anymore, I want to be true to myself.
I put on an act for so long. And I lost so many years that I'll never get back. The previous me was a chronically online sad and lost soul who barely read books, barely play video games, barely watch movies and couldn't go outside. I don't blame them, they had their issues. And the me before that was even worst 'cause she was literally dying, she had no time to do shit other than surviving. Her days was basically, well, I don't even know what it was, I forgot everything about her, absolute blackout. As if she was another whole person. But she lived for 10 years folks, ten years I can't remember. I see pictures of her life and I don't understand what's going on, I feel invasive watching at the intimacy of someone I do not know. But I have a deep affection for her, she survived even when she didn't want to, she's a strong warrior and the reason I live today. It's weird talking about other me because it's a dissociation without "possession". I don't even realize I switched to a me or another before months because I keep my memories at first (though I notice I always have a phase of derealization right away), because the "long" me aren't the only me, when I get angry I switch to someone else too, for exemple, for a few hours or days at worst.
But when I have enough hindsight, it's easy to see when my life "broke" and when I become someone else, why, how, who. The previous me who was suicidal felt like they lived too long, but me? I feel like I didn't live long enough and my time is getting short already because I'm 37. I lost nearly 40 years and it feels unfair, I never got to experience teenagehood or the feeling you get when you enter adulthood. I had to be an adult right away, with responsibilities, with bills, in a shitty autodestructive world.
But it's never too late to be yourself.
So I lost my shit. A few people wanted me to write this post not only to have me explain how I feel and maybe put words on their own feelings, but also because they wanted to know what I did, what I still do, to find peace and feel more like myself. Well I lost my shit.
One day I woke up, I opened my closet, I took every clothing in it (keeping the bare minimum to not be freakin' naked and the very few cool stuff past me bought, which is literally 2 swim-short and 3 button up shirts) and I gave it all away to charity 'cause it made me sick. It made me SICK. And I chose that word on purpose.
It wasn't me, it gave me a weird dizzy feeling and so ultimately I stopped dressing up, I would wear pajamas most of the time and whatever I grabbed when I needed to go out and it made me feel bad about myself. I love fashion, I don't follow fashion news and trend and stuff like that, but I love dressing myself up, wandering in shops (even if I don't buy shit 99% of the time, I take pictures for my arts still), watching how other people dress up. Fashion is the best way to express yourself and to be yourself, it's something fascinating and it was always important to me, no matter the me I was, to take a deep care and attention to how I dress and look. Not for others (I have an alternative look anyway, I won't please anyone but me and the gays lol) but for myself, I need to look in the mirror and think "yeah that's me" and I just couldn't feel that anymore.
Little side note here but if you're interested in fashion and self representation I'd highly recommend to read Boys Run The Riot by Keito Gaku. It's a manga about a trans man trying to create a street brand because of how it helps him express himself. Very good read even if you're cis, about the pressure of not only being trans but also the pressure that ensure, like how people think you owe them a certain representation and behaviors even when they support you.
And so, I started buying back stuff, differently though, I try to buy responsible so either from small business (more expensive, but at least you have some unique cool stuff and you help someone paying their bills) or from Vinted if it's from a huge brand or fast shopping stuff (nobody tells you it's forbidden to wear Shein stuff, but if you can get it second handed you're avoiding waste, you pay even less and all that while not supporting this kind of business model so please consider it). It had me notice how much my tastes changed when it comes to fashion. I used to love very feminine goth or emo stuff and now I'm mostly into masc punk and streetwear. And it's funny because that change is very visible through the way I dress up Sam.
I'll go back to that in a moment, how Sam is how I express myself. Let's go back to our matter.
Of course it takes time, it's not free to build a new wardrobe. Thrifting was very helpful for that though.
I changed my haircut, used to have short blond hair, I let them grow, went back to my natural dark brown and dye a little bang in purple/pink with a neat undercut. Of course I got new tattoo and I'm planning to get more, but I'm also planning to update one from previous me to make it more like myself. I like that, updating tattoo as I grow. Having a base and making it grow with me, it's a nice and fun thing to do (and no, I don't regret any of them, even if previous me made them. Updating them the way I grow is just a fun way to reflect my life and feelings on them).
I strongly believe in Mens sana in corpore sano, thus the name of that tag. An healthy mind in an healthy body. I'm tired of the normalization of a miserable life when you're an artist. I do believe you have to be fucked up to feel attracted by Art so bad you would make it your job, but it doesn't mean you have to be miserable.
That's what resilience is about, it's about making the best out of your condition. Acceptance is not about accepting a miserable faith, it's about accepting you can be happy even through the pain, you can find and deserve joy in your life. It's about aknowledging you deserve the best you can get. Because once you understand you do, that's when you fight for it.
So I went back to workout. I dropped the weight because it was terrible for my health and I started calisthenic which works way better for me. I train my body strength, my mobility and my resistance Combined with more cardio, let it be walking, inside bicycle (I will make a whole post dedicated to sport and weightloss later, I wait until I feel better to go back to my routine and give it more months to see the change for that) as a mean to ton up my body, lose the extra fat I still have, also to have a more "masculine" body (or at least how I like drawing masculine bodies, 'cause I enjoy women or non binary folks strong with big muscles and I enjoy a guy with a thin "nerdy" but defined body), but mostly to have a functional body and to be able to do shit I wished I would do as a kid. I have this memory of kid me spending time in Vendée with my siblings and mom and we had these fitness trails, like a lot of places. And I remember my mom doing pull up so easily, it became an objectif of mine to do that. But shit happened obviously.
Kid me wanted to play an instrument, guitar or violon. And they wanted to learn archery (I did learn that though). The more I grew, the less mobile my body was. I couldn't even do a backward roll and I was literally the only kid who couldn't (I'm sure I can now but I'm scared of trying lol I have psychological barriers). In middle school, we had to make a gymnastic presentation in front of every other kids and you know how mean people can be when they're between 11 years old and 15. Nobody would pick me of course, 'cause I was an absolute useless burden, I was fat so I couldn't climb on their human pyramids without making them uncomfortable, I didn't have the strength to be on the bottom, I couldn't do shit. Honestly I wouldn't pick me either to avoid the bad grade and shame so I don't really blame anyone but the school system. These sport session were absolute torture and humiliation for me. So needless to say I have yet to achieve my first pull up lol.
I also take more care of myself. I always had basic hygiene even into deep deep depression, but it was very basic. Showering, brushing my teeth and that was it. Now I take more time taking care of my body, applying moisturizer on my face and another one on my tattoo, taking care of my hair, of my nails, of my feet and hands (though I assume the latest will be less and less pretty as I grow in calisthenic haha), I do home made scrubs on my body and face. It doesn't sound as important as getting more toned or getting new outfit because it's not a visible physical change for a lot of people. But first of all it is, not as visible certainly but getting a more hydrated skin and hair does change your physique and most importantly it's mostly a mental change. And I can assure you that your mental condition will change the way people perceive you physically.
It just feels very good to take care of yourself. I don't do much, I'm team "the more you add shit on your face and the more likely you are to damage it and need the shit you put on it forever" and we're all limited in time and money. But I added little care and self-attention that can truly change the way your perceive yourself. Like, idk, like manicure I do once or twice a month on myself.
Here's a little tips btw if you struggle with hygiene because of depression : start small. The thing that helped me the most to maintain hygiene and also get better was creating rituals, habits. So if you struggle with hygiene start by putting on an alarm to brush your teeth once a day, once it's a strong enough habit twice a day, then to properly shower and clean up your room etc etc... And I showed mercy to myself.
And the most important change was in my arts. I changed my artstyle and the way I draw a lot. Of course it would change, because what I draw is a part of me.
The way I draw because I don't overwork anymore (or at least I try to), allowing myself to do something else, to not feel bad when I watch a movie or read a book or play a game or go outside or take a day off to rest because my health is bad.
Art is born of Art, the best way to keep feeling inspired is to cultivate it. Let it be by watching/playing/reading other works or by just experiencing life. Because like I once said, what is Art if not the rawest representation of humanity ? And what is humanity if not a human experiencing life in everything it has to offer ? And so, talking this moment to go outside, to watch people, to watch nature and see how it impacts you, this is how Art is born. Taking the time to feel, to experience. In fact most artblock (not all, but most of them) are born of burnout. The lack of inspiration is born of practicing too much. But to get creative you need to take the time to not create.
And I changed my artstyle. Changing your artstyle is a very scary process, especially when it's your only income. What will people think ? Will they keep buying ? Is my business over ? What if they pay to get stuff I don't do anymore and get disappointed ? So far nobody felt let down by what I do, in fact I got a lot of "wow it suits you so much better" but I guess, maybe silently, there will always be people who liked the other you more than who you are. And that's ok, whatever. You don't need to please anyone but you.
I took the decision to totally stop commissions for a few months, until I properly developed my artstyle, until I had enough samples to have people know they buy something different and to rework my website to something more like me.
Here's what past me did vs what I do. It's not bad, it's different and it's not me.
Here's a one year difference and it's not even a good representation 'cause I was already changing my artstyle back then, I was already me, but you can still see differences, in my lines, in my colors mostly. The orange version I did to make it "like Sam", the purple one is me, lemon green and purple/neon pink it's my favorite color palette, I didn't give a choice to Sam lol.
My approach to Sam changed a lot too. I often explained that I express myself through Sam, but it's rather the other way around. Past me had no personality (I don't say that to be mean, they were in this "in between", looking to be them without knowing how to do that so how were they supposed to have a personality) so they would basically bend to Sam, if that make sense. Sam likes orange ? Oh then we'll draw orange. Now it's the other way around, I like purple so that motherfucker will fucking wear purple (not on everything though, I still respect his color palette for accuracy purpose, but for this art that is representing my whole website it was important that I had MY color palette and not Sam's). I identify more to MCU Sam than comics Sam now. Don't get me wrong, I still absolutely love comics Sam, he's in my heart (and skin LOL) forever, but it's different, it's way easier for me to express myself through MCU Sam. Probably because he is responsible of the switch that had me be me and maybe also because his lack of writing make it easier to inject my feelings into his story, or the other way around.
He molded the "me" I am now. That's why it's mostly him I draw and "wear" online. And being an empty canvas means he needs to be written and explored, like me. I'm often asked, why don't you do these little cartoon of yourself anymore ? Because I can't, that's why. It's not that I don't want to, it's that I cannot see myself in them anymore. Not like that at least. It's easier for me to wear MCU Sam and take his name and take his appearance (or something close enough to him and my numerous personal headcanon about him at least) in everything that requiert a little avatar rather than me.
I can't express myself if it's not through MCU Sam and I'm sure there's a fascinating psychological reason to that, which I assume is something similar to how people build alters through things they see that bring them comfort.
MCU Sam had me switch, he was the little push I needed to finally live in the light, in that way I guess it makes sense that I express myself through him. Because I'm like an old machinery and he's the fire that keeps me working, so it makes sense that my soul takes his shape.
MCU Sam and me share way too much impossible to ignore similarities, from his love for tea and plants, to his AuDHD, to his thirst for knowledge, to his passion for teaching, to the very specific 16 years of torture cut off from the world, to his rage and pain. But what make it so easy for me to identify to MCU Sam rather than comics Sam is how he became someone else. He is not the Sam he used to be and he can never be that man ever again. His pain and traumas turn him into another person, with other feeling and story and goal. Like me, his pursue of the shadow of a man he can never be is preventing him from truly living. Like me, the person he is now was born through the ashes of a life that can never be his. Like me, he was born through pain, loneliness and a feeling of injustice. And like me, like me he became someone else who's trying to find his place in a world that doesn't want him through the memories of a life that isn't his.
It's not something easy to talk about, how a fictional character can shape your life. People will assume you're crazy and I probably am. What is insanity to most people if not the lack of normalcy ? And why should I pursue normalcy if it makes me feel bad and if it's hurting me where oddity makes me feel at peace and me ? As long as I don't hurt anyone why is it a bad thing ? If my issues make anyone feel uncomfortable then I guess they're the one who need help 'cause why would you let a stranger's lifestyle impact your own life if you're sane yourself ?
Growing up is complicated. It takes time and I'm not where I want to be yet, that's why a lot of people are afraid to try. Because it takes time and it's frustrating. But if I didn't start trying to be me it wouldn't happen at all so better late than never.
It's been over a year now, I didn't change everything over night, I did it one step at a time.
First I started going out again, then I started reading and watching and gaming again, then I worked my artstyle, then I got rid of my closet, then I started working out etc etc... There's still things I want to do, or rather NEED to do.
And now I dream.
One of the first thing I said in this blog when I started talking about me and in this post is how dying resulted in my inability to dream and project myself. I could desire, I could look at a book and think "oh I want that", I could see a neat expensive PVC figure of something I like and work a few months and more to be able to afford it, but I couldn't dream. I couldn't project myself, I couldn't make project, I couldn't think of my future, I couldn't see me anywhere but in that prison that is the bedroom I'm meant to spend my life in. But recently I started dreaming. I started dreaming of my own place, I started dreaming of all the things I'd do in my own home. The way I would organize my shelves, my living room, my garden, my days, my meals.
I want to have my own place.
I need to have my own place. I'm nearly 40 and still living with my mom. When I was dying I've been told I would never live on my own, it was my faith and until now I was ok with that idea, the idea of living with my mom and die with her. "If you work a normal work you'll kill yourself in the process" "ok then what do I do to live ?" "who said you were allowed to live ?".
But I don't believe in that anymore, I know I can have a comfortable enough life with my fiance and I need that. Waking up in that bedroom that doesn't feel like mine anymore is getting harder and harder for my mental health everyday. Living with the abusive man who failed to be a father doesn't help either. Getting insulted, humiliated, threatened, getting kicked out and then "oh you can stay I changed my mind, I hope you're grateful". It's exhausting and it took another me to understand it wasn't normal either. Because that's also the thing with being the me I am now, I don't accept what's not acceptable anymore and I cannot normalize it either.
I never had a father, I don't know how it feels like and it doesn't help me stay patient to have to live with someone stranger I hate so much. But I have to be patient, because my fiance isn't in a stable enough professional situation to buy or even rent and in France disabled people like me and freelances (and unfortunately I'm both lol) can't really do that, which is why I'm stuck here for now, even if I work hard to try to make as much money as I can to be independent enough to have him not worrying about me and I love him too much to rush him into something he hates for my own peace. I love him too much. Everything I am now is because he always stand by my side. I avoid talking too much about him, because I don't want to make him uncomfortable. But he's a part of me the way I am a part of him and I cannot find happiness if he doesn't find his, the way I finally understand he cannot find happiness if I can't find mine. So I'll stay patient, I want him to live his dreams. And in the meantime I dream. I see a nice ramen bowl and dream of all the meal I'll learn to do with that, so I buy it, put it in a box and I wait.
I lost control of my life when I got sick, I need to get it fully back, in every aspect of my life. Physically, mentally, through my relationship, through the way I see myself and my gender, through the way I draw, through the way I work and through where and how I live. I need control over my life. I need to be able to live my own choices, good or bad.
And I dream.
I dream of doing that first pull up, I dream of all the Arts I have yet to do, I dream of doing rollerblade again, I dream of these long walk in the country side, I dream of playing guitar, I dream of knowledge and passion, I dream of a home, I dream of a home by the sea (but I'm asking too much here, yet, I dream), I dream of a freedom and independence I'm merely starting to taste and need. I think that's the difference between me and the others me. They all wanted to die, I'm the only one who's scared of fading away and it's probably what will keep me alive longer than them. Because I don't have the need to destroy to start over anymore. Now I have the need to build with what I have.
I don't want to build back what I was or what I'm supposed to be with the broken pieces of a past that isn't mine. Because that's not what I am, I'm not a broken piece from a shattered life. I'm the little sprout that grow through the ashes of a burnt garden, stubborn and clumsy, I'm not meant to build the garden back, I'm meant to build a new one, through new seeds and that's what I'll do. I'll build my own Eden in my own way.
So I bought a guitar. Until next time. Enjoy~
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