Rant, advice seeking thingy idk.
Hi, my name is Vinny and I came onto the shitty website known as Reddit because I desperately need advice and a perspective from someone that isn't my mother. And to also know if there is a chance if Im experiencing gender dysphoria or if its just my teenage brain fucking with me. So, for context, I am a teenage non-binary (biologically female) and I have been experiencing many feelings of distress and discomfort with both my chest and identity for as long as I can remember. But, I won't get into the identity part because my chest is more of the bigger problem for me and the thing I need the most advice on.
So, basically, every day is just a fucking battle of discomfort and I think distress? Idk. With my chest. A prime example of this distress and discomfort, is the multiple times I have run out of the bathroom after taking a shower and begin desperately tearing my room apart, looking for one of my shitty binders from Amazon or one of the decent sport bars I own. While hyperventilating. I have also admittedly given up on working out a few times because the sight and feeling of my chest was too much for me and I desperately just needed to lay in bed and suffocate them underneath the blankets in hopes that it would relieve this feeling a little.
And anytime they move, it's just pure AHHHAUEIUEUEJE. Idk how else to explain it, tbh. I just know that every time one of them moves ever so slightly, it makes me wanna dig my fingernails into my flesh and tear them clean off me. Even though that realistically would be really fucking painful. Every movement just feels so incredibly wrong just in general! Like its as if they were constantly shifting alien eggs made out of human flesh that are forever attached to me. Sucking away my mental stability and making me more uncomfortable than one of those shitty prank videos bit by bit with each movement or shift they make.
And God, looking at them is even fucking worse! Every time I'm getting ready to take a shower or just take off my shirt in general and see them? It just looks so fucking wrong! Seeing them on me! It's like seeing a distorted version of your body in a way. A incredibly disbursing and uncomfortable distorted version of your body. And it still feels the same when im wearing my shirt. Just even glancing at my chest once in a mirror anywhere is just instant regret because now? Im gonna spend the next 14 minutes being unresponsive as fuck and constantly figdeting with my shirt, trying desperately to make it look like i have a flat chest and dont have these cancerous pieces of flesh on me.
And trying to go to sleep is a whole different story. Laying on side? No. Boob smushed against mattress, making its existence painfully more noticeable. Back? No, they dangle off to sides. Stomach? Nope, that's just really, really uncomfortable because now they're pushing back into me lol.
And I've tried everything to be relieved of them. I really have. And while some admittedly worked a little, they all never fully do help. Bra? Stops them from moving around and causing stress with the movements to stop. So, thats a pro. but I can still see them. And that still causes some discomfort. Shitty Amazon binder? Just pure uncomfortable because it's a shitty binder obviously. And the feeling of it pressing them back into me? Yeah.. Thats uncomfortable as hell. But, it does admittedly get the job done! And i always love looking at my somewhat flat chest in the mirror. Tried loving them? Nope, that just ended up in multiple breakdowns in my bathroom at 4 in the morning while everyone else in my house is asleep.
Okay, so I just looked back at everything I wrote and holy shit. I did not realize I wrote that much. LOL. So, I probs will be ending it here since I don't wanna make this obnoxiously long. Or overly ranty or more messy explanations. So, yeah. Goodbye for now. Thank you for reading through my chaotic, shitty mess of a rant, seeking advice post thingy. And thank you even more if you do give me some advice and help me understand if this is just my teenage mind fucking with me or if there's a chance I'm actually experiencing gender dysphoria.