DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME.
I am having a semi-breakdown.
I will try to explain.
I have had two family therapy sessions, with my mother, my father, myself, Doctor Singh, and Doctor Judy.
I find myself paralyzed in this sadness, which seems to come from within.
My mother doesn't love me, though she used to tell me that I was her favorite, of all her children. She said that I was wise, as a child, with profound insights. Even when I was four years old.
Now, when she looks at me, I see hatred and anger. I cannot comprehend the idea of not having her love and care.
I asked her once, if she really didn't love me, and she said 'you can push anyone too far. there's no such things as unconditional love.'
So anyways.
Yesterday, in therapy, Heather decided to bring up the "Oliver" question.
(I have never had this discussion with my father. Yesterday, as far as he knew, I was wear men's clothes because I "am too tall for the ladies department")
She told him everything. My discussions about my name change, my discussions with the doctor about future surgeries, or hormone treatment, living as a male.
My dad just stared at me, not talking.
It got worse and worse.
Basically, that is all against his religion and 'Wrong'. He cannot accept it. He believes, as a fundamentalist, Russian Mennonite, that if you believe that you are a homosexual, the only decent thing to do is kill yourself. To save your family the shame.
He says it is an act, and I am "Not really like this"
I told him "I'm not a liar!" But no persuasion. Mennonites will be Mennonites.
My mother thought this whole argument was hilarious.
Then, it ended, and my dad drove me to work, and we didn't talk, and he tried to hug me and I wanted to scream, and I spoke harshly.
I feel terrible, like I can't do anything right. I wish someone would sweep me off my feet and take all of my problems away.
I will try to explain.
I have had two family therapy sessions, with my mother, my father, myself, Doctor Singh, and Doctor Judy.
I find myself paralyzed in this sadness, which seems to come from within.
My mother doesn't love me, though she used to tell me that I was her favorite, of all her children. She said that I was wise, as a child, with profound insights. Even when I was four years old.
Now, when she looks at me, I see hatred and anger. I cannot comprehend the idea of not having her love and care.
I asked her once, if she really didn't love me, and she said 'you can push anyone too far. there's no such things as unconditional love.'
So anyways.
Yesterday, in therapy, Heather decided to bring up the "Oliver" question.
(I have never had this discussion with my father. Yesterday, as far as he knew, I was wear men's clothes because I "am too tall for the ladies department")
She told him everything. My discussions about my name change, my discussions with the doctor about future surgeries, or hormone treatment, living as a male.
My dad just stared at me, not talking.
It got worse and worse.
Basically, that is all against his religion and 'Wrong'. He cannot accept it. He believes, as a fundamentalist, Russian Mennonite, that if you believe that you are a homosexual, the only decent thing to do is kill yourself. To save your family the shame.
He says it is an act, and I am "Not really like this"
I told him "I'm not a liar!" But no persuasion. Mennonites will be Mennonites.
My mother thought this whole argument was hilarious.
Then, it ended, and my dad drove me to work, and we didn't talk, and he tried to hug me and I wanted to scream, and I spoke harshly.
I feel terrible, like I can't do anything right. I wish someone would sweep me off my feet and take all of my problems away.