So I guess I’m one of those people who’s part of insomnia Twitter. Have to get up in 2 hours to go tape drywall during a pandemic. I guess I should be thankful I still have a job but come on, it totally sucks having to go out there everyday wondering if I’m going to catch it.

As if I don’t have enough shit going on in my life. Painted my nails yellow to match a fun yellow dress I bought last week and have been wearing around the house. Feels great to wear it but also feel like this part of me is trapped inside and I’m still hiding who am I.

Probably going to delete this when I get up for work but tweeting it out is making me feel better. I wish I had just kept this account fully anonymous. Things I want to just say out into the void are now things people I & my former know can now see this stuff.

Which I guess is cool because it’s more out there so maybe I’m not hiding but also increases the level of difficulty in being out there. Still so impressed with all the folk living their gender non-conforming lives out loud.

When all this stuff started to hit for me I had to go back and think about all the signs of this and started hating myself for not seeing it and just hiding in cishet land because I could. But then I hate myself for thinking that because I had 15 1/2 with the love of my life.

15 1/2 years that should say. But I had the blow everything up by being a drunken asshole who’d say they’d be home in 15 minutes and then hours later and after the kids were asleep I’d stumble home like the piece of shit I was. You can only break someone’s heart so many times.

Since coming out my urge to drink has all but evaporated but all the shitty things I did that I don’t and won’t ever remember from blacking out is still there. Damage I didn’t have to cause if I could have just been open and accepting of feelings I’ve known I’ve had my whole life

I’ve always hated looking back on life with a revisionist outlook but it’s been really hard not to with this. My shorty parents wouldn’t have accepted this but hey they didn’t accept me anyway which is why I ended up in foster care for high school.

Hahahaha shorty parents, what an I, some sort of rap person? No.