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  • Hi everyone! This video is going to be about my past, such as my

  • childhood and teenage years, how things were for me in middle and

  • high school, and the struggle I had with my gender identity and

  • becoming my true self, through the mental disorders and trauma.

  • This is a very lengthily life story, but is divided into

  • sections you can access by looking in the description. So,

  • thank you to anyone in advanced who watches the entire thing.

  • I apologize if I am smiling at any of this because this is not

  • anything to smile about. As a general warning, this video

  • could be triggering to some individuals since it includes

  • references of trauma, abandonment, abuse, and

  • bullying, among other things. So please watch with caution.

  • My childhood is very difficult for me to talk about, and is

  • also something I really don't remember because it was so

  • traumatic I blocked most of it out. There is only a small

  • amount I remember, some good, some bad. So, a lot of the

  • information provided here was given to me by my family that

  • knows about my past. Of course, these people don't know

  • everything that happened to me and I suspect a lot is being

  • intentionally hidden from me as well. So, ever since I was a

  • child I was severely abused. Physical abuse, I was hit,

  • kicked, slapped around, anything you could imagine. Not just by

  • one person, but by multiple people. I remember being

  • suffocated at one point. One thing that was told to me was

  • that at some point I was tied up to a chair by someone I didn't

  • know because I was out of control. I don't know how long

  • or if anything else happened, but it sounds like a terrifying

  • moment for a child. Emotional abuse, I was called names, but

  • more seriously, I was abandoned by so many people. I'll get to

  • that in a minute. Sexual abuse, it wouldn't surprise me if

  • things were done to me. But, there are also things that I

  • have done that I will have to live with for the rest of my

  • life. I cannot go back and change my past, and if I did, I

  • wouldn't be the same person I am today. I had nowhere to escape,

  • I was trapped. The only release I got was when I went to my

  • grandparent's. They were always nice to me and never neglected

  • me. That was the one place I felt safe and could have

  • attention. If it wasn't for them, I don't know where I would

  • be today. Regarding abandonment, I was neglected by most people.

  • My mother never paid much of any attention, plus I never had a

  • father that was actively in the picture. I did see him a very

  • few times, but I don't know what we did, if anything. Shortly

  • thereafter, someone else from that side of the family started

  • spending time with me, and we became very close. We would go

  • on adventures and I really had a lot of fun. She was there for me

  • during the times I couldn't be with my grandparents. One day

  • she was supposed to come pick me up, but she never showed up.

  • People tried to get ahold of her, but there was no response.

  • I thought she died. There are a lot of mental problems that run

  • in my family, especially on that side, my father's side, so

  • perhaps that is why they left me, and perhaps where I got some

  • of the issues I have today. I don't know that side of the

  • family, so I don't know the extent of the mental issues that

  • run there. I was a very violent and angry child. I've taken my

  • anger out in ways that were unacceptable. It was only over

  • the past few years that I have been able to find a better

  • outlet. One thing I did was constantly break by prescription

  • glasses when I would get angry. Another thing was slam my head

  • against things. There was one point, which I don't remember,

  • where I threatened to kill my mother with a screwdriver for

  • what she had done to me. She was terrified out of her mind and

  • thought I would kill her when she was asleep. When I turned

  • five my sister was born. I always wanted to be the only

  • child, and get the attention I deserved, and now with my

  • sister, any kind of attention that could've been became

  • non-existent. I hated my sister for being born and supposedly

  • I hurt her. I was also signed up for lots of activities. Music,

  • swimming, anything else. And, I hated it. If it was learning to

  • play musical instruments, I would hide the instrument so

  • I could get out of doing it. I hated being around other

  • children, and just wanted to be alone in my room. I was most of

  • the time anyway. So, I usually just played video games by

  • myself. Back then, I remember thinking about death a lot, but

  • it didn't scare me. I remember thinking about ways I could die

  • and it fascinated me. I had a wooden bunk bed in my room, even

  • though I was the only one that slept in there. But, I remember

  • kicking and pushing as hard as I could with my legs to try and

  • get the top bunk to fall on top of me in hopes that it would

  • kill me. I remember splitting my arm open somehow about an inch

  • when jump on my bed I believe. I don't know if that's what

  • happened or just what I was supposed to believe, or if it

  • even was an accident. I still have the scar today. I remember

  • this one delusion, where I thought there was a girl my age

  • that lived across the street from where my room was. I don't

  • think I could see her at all, but I thought a girl lived there

  • and thought she was my girlfriend. She monitored

  • everything I did in my room, never judged and was nice.

  • I don't know if I ever talked to her, nor do I know if she talked

  • to me, perhaps we did. But, I knew she was there always

  • watching me. I felt I was watched by a lot of things,

  • especially in space, but I was not scared or paranoid of it.

  • Regarding my gender identity, I believe I faintly remember going

  • into my mother's room and looking at her clothing and

  • shoes, wanting to try them on, perhaps even trying on the

  • shoes. I don't know. I remember I hated having a penis.

  • I remember so many times having scissors down there about ready

  • to cut it off. Of course, I never did it, wouldn't have been

  • able to get surgery otherwise. But, I do clearly remember being

  • on the verge of getting rid of it because I didn't like it. Or

  • perhaps that was also another thought of death I had. I also

  • remember in school someone asked me if I had a penis, and I said,

  • "No, it got cut off." I denied it because I hated it. What I

  • also remember is when my mother was watching some movie about

  • men that cross-dressed and were living like women. I remember

  • thinking in my head, that is what I'm going to do when I get

  • older. As far as school goes, I was very shy and never really

  • talked with anyone. I didn't really have many friends, but

  • the ones I did have I had a lot of fun with. Though, I was made

  • fun of and bullied. Additionally, I also had a

  • speech impediment and couldn't say certain letters correctly,

  • so I had to take speech therapy. I remember I was so scared of

  • using the bathroom in school that I held it all day long.

  • This even continued through high school. Though, when I was

  • younger it was quite difficult holding it for that long and I

  • had some accidents that I'm not proud of. The reason why I hated

  • bathrooms, I don't know. Perhaps it was related to my body, or

  • some abuse I don't remember, or a combination of the two. I

  • don't have a clue. By the time I turned 10, I had moved in full

  • time with my grandparents and still live there today. I was

  • luckily able to get away from the abuse and live in a

  • comforting household. Though, my problems

  • were only starting to begin.

  • Around age 11 and 12, it was around the time I started to hit

  • puberty. Things drastically turned bad in my life on so many

  • levels. Going through puberty is extremely difficult for any

  • transgender individual. Your body is changing in the opposite

  • way you would like and it is a terrifying experience. I hated

  • the fact that I was getting a deeper voice, facial and body

  • hair, and other things. The hatred I had towards myself was

  • astronomical. I would look in the mirror and say, "I hate you,

  • you ugly slob." And I would cry so badly when I saw any kind of

  • picture of myself. I didn't get why people thought I was good

  • looking, because I didn't see it. Something else that became

  • very troubling was that my thought process became very

  • distorted. Unexpectedly out of nowhere, I started to become

  • very paranoid of people, thinking they were watching me,

  • reading my thoughts at all times. When they would look at

  • me, they would know instantly what I was thinking. Every time

  • I would think something, it was broadcast outside my head for

  • the whole world to hear. This was very different from how

  • I was prior. I was doing fine, no paranoia, no delusions, I

  • trusted people, and invited them to birthday parties and would go

  • to theirs willingly, but I was usually held back by shyness,

  • that's it. But after my thoughts changed, I was so paranoid of

  • them, thinking they would hurt me and do me harm. On top of

  • that, I slowly lost all interest in human interaction. I just

  • wanted to be alone, and I was. I stayed in my room, avoided

  • people, stopped talking with people, including my family. Of

  • course some of this was due to my depressed about my gender

  • identity. Whenever I would talk to my grandmother, I would sit

  • behind a corner so she couldn't see me. Or, I would put

  • something in the way so she couldn't look at me. I hated

  • being looked at, because I felt ugly, but also that other people

  • were reading my mind. These things started to become more

  • and more severe. It got to the point where I put black

  • construction paper on my window to, one block out the sun, and

  • block out anyone who was watching me in my room. I spent

  • most of my time alone in my room, away from even my family.

  • I was terrified every second I had to leave my room because

  • I thought someone would break in and go through my things.

  • Whenever I would take a shower, I thought my grandmother would

  • go up there and root around. This continued until after I

  • finished high school. So much to the point where I had to lock my

  • door and put a piece of paper under it to see if anyone broke

  • in. But, I also believed that people knew I did this and would

  • put it back the way I had it after they broken in. I remember