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A (Really) Long Story about PTSD and Gender… oh, and Suicide

I am 12 and I struggle with PTSD


It all started 7 years ago.
I have always had a problem with picking my nose. At least, in front of everybody else. Because of this flaw, I would commonly ruin my reputation as soon as I walked into a school.
Starting from the first "You're disgusting!" I have never not been bullied at school in my life. I had to change schools 2 times to get away from it. But it always followed me, never leaving me alone. The taunts and the snickers were starting to get to me; they would ring in my head everyday I went home, crying hysterically over something someone had done. It started getting worse in 3rd grade. Nobody was my friend. The entire school was literally out to get me, and I was alone.
I begged and begged every single day to switch schools. Every time, "No." My parents didn't want me to have to deal with being the new kid in the middle of the year. But, it would of had been better than being constantly tortured every day.
Eventually, I moved schools. It never was that bad again. I loved my new school. The district was richer, we could have our own computers and choose what we got for lunch. I loved it. Alas, it took me a while to figure out, I was being bullied there, too. Everyone knew by the middle of 4th grade that I picked my nose (I tried!) and I would often get told I was disgusting. I eventually got used to it. After all, I had friends.
But, when 6th grade started, these 'friends' became highly abusive. One of my best, actual friends, who had bipolar and was suicidal, moved away in the middle of the year. My 'friends' would bully me and make my life hell. And when I thought about dropping them, they would stop and be nice. I would excuse them from the crime. I decided I was just going to stop hanging with them in Middle School.
Over the Summer, I had made a realization: I was queer! And genderqueer! It was a rather confusing time. I spent all summer doing as much as I could to learn about this community. Also, around the same time, I met an amazing friend who I'm going to call, for the sake of the story, Chris. He was super funny, and enjoyable to be around. I found it easy to forget about my troubles in his company. Even cooler, he was bisexual! He was the first person (Third, if you count my gay married neighbors) I met who I found out was queer. I was so excited, I thought I finally found someone who could actually understand me! It was a wonderful feeling. After a while, though,Chris asked me to stop talking about the subject, and started being cruel and cold whenever I did something related to the subject around him. That just caused me to become very depressed.
Once I got into middle school, I dropped them and made new friends. My schedule was more rigid, school was amazing. It turned out Chris went to my school, which was incredibly awesome. I figured out my identity for the most part; I started off my year with realizing I had a crush on a girl I knew in elementary school who I'm going to refer to as Katara. I was actually happy.
However, all these emotions I had non-intentionally bottled up from the Summer and all those years ago decided to kick me in the the butt right then. And, boom, I had depression.
I fell into a worse state of depression then I ever had before. I had been having suicidal thought every once and a while since I was 10, then upgraded to every day. I started cutting more. (I had started over the Summer.) I withdrew socially.
Factors? These took a while. I realized it was because I was afraid Chris didn't like me anymore. We stopped talking for a while and I was as scared as hell. I feared rejection from Katara; eventually the anxiety kicked my feelings for her out of my head. My gender dysphoria plays a part, I can't wait until I'm 18 so I can a) get a binder and b) get top surgery.
The major reason, at least now? My mom doesn't accept me.
I told her I was gay over the Summer and that I was sad, and she was okay with it. It turned out she could relate. (She wasn't gay: After my parents divorced, they both married the opposite sex.) She had depression. We could find common ground and she was really supportive.
But when I told her I was genderqueer, she blew a fuse. I had completely changed. I started wearing sports bras to make my chest look smaller. I started dressing more like a boy. I got my hair cut short. She was fine with this.
But she wouldn't call me Alex. Nope. Nothing would work. She claimed it was because she liked a boy for years named Alex, but after 4 months, I started believing she was just using that now as an excuse not to call me Alex. She has been so stubborn. And it hurts. It hurts every time she calls me the wrong name, every time she gives me a lame excuse. All I'm asking is for her to put forth a bit of effort, but yet, nothing has worked.
However, I am slowly recovering. I started seeing a therapist. She has helped me out a lot. And we both like video games! Perfect match. I really don't want to kill myself or cut anymore, and I still struggle, but I'm getting there.


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