u/Eggwantingtocrack

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

(Sorry in advance for how long this post is as a lot of things have happened and I feel writing it out may help me cope with it.)

This week was incredibly eventful in some good ways for once. But like all things in my life there is always a horrible side effect. Firstly I got mental health counseling which my college offered. Secondly I finally got news on my 529. Just these two events managed to completely change the trajectory of my situation for better or worse. 

Update: 
I have a bad record with mental health professionals likely stemming from them being hand picked by my parents. Firstly, we had my psychiatrist an over religious zellot who is the primary solution to all my problems were to pray it away or listen to my parents/deal with the abuse. Then secondly, we have my therapist who I could go on and on about but for a sick this Post, he was a snooty intellectual, who believe that he was smarter than everybody else that would always tell me to confront my parents on anything as if there would not be any consequences from that action. Oh also, he’s the guy who told me after looking at my medical file I’d be shocked if you haven’t tried, tried killing yourself. Because I would.” 

The counseling session was the first time that I’ve been able to talk to a mental health professional without fear my parents would interfere. I was able to talk freely about the abuse without worrying about my parents catching wind or trying to stop me. With that being said, it was not without its bad parts. Having to relive past traumas that I hadn’t yet confronted. Confronting those not confronted for many years. I came realizing I was far more traumatized than I would dare admit. The thug that gave me the most pause and truly made me realize how truly traumatized I was actually was a simple question. “Can you remember the last time you were happy with your family?” I couldn’t as every memory had been corrupted with realization of abuse and neglect. Afterwards I sobbed to myself as I realized how truly broken I am. 

I confronted my father about my college savings and I’m unsure what to think. Here the basics 1) my father refused to relinquish custody of the account 2) my father did allow me to be in direct contact with the financial person in charge of it. So I'm mostly pissed and confused. They refuse to relinquish it because idk. He claimed it was because “he wants access to deposit money”. Which is bullshit because it’s an auto deposit. That's why they didn’t realize the account never existed for the longest time. I’m unsure of what power my parents have over the account and that terrifies me. 

Physical degradation:
I feel pathetic even with my 12 salt pills. I still get horrible bouts of light headedness from my P.O.T.S . It is getting harder and harder to cope physically as the decay and pain has taken a severe mental toll. I want to be able to go hiking and not nearly pass out. I want to be able to cope but the mental load of knowing that things are just getting worse makes it hard to ever be fully adapted to the situation. Over the last few months I found myself having to abruptly stop what I’m doing, and lay down in the hopes that my back pain will lessen. To be quite honest I have a hard time keeping myself from collapsing into a crying puddle wanting the world to end.

Most don’t truly realize how much they have until they lose it. I’ve come to appreciate the ability to stand up without “head rushes” making me nearly need to pass out. There are so many simple things we all take for granted in our day to day life. Like being able to bend without immense amounts. Basic physical movement without the requirement of physical torment is a gift that is usually taken for granted. As we tend to forget how much is truly innately normalized.

Mental:
As I mentioned earlier I’ve been really having a hard time coming to terms with my childhood being corrupted by many recent realizations. Even if I try thinking really hard about it I can’t remember a single uncorrupted memory. I feel I have missed out on so much that I can’t hope to regain. Regret or just anger of what could’ve been permeates through my thoughts. I wish to regain my childhood, but alas, as far too late. My memories now are just of the pain, abuse, and sadness. I know our brains tend to remember only the strongest emotions most clearly. But I have tried so hard to find a single moment uncorrupted by my parents' abuse. 

I know I shouldn’t but I don’t think I am lovable. After decades worth of degrading and abuse I find it extremely hard to love myself. If my parents couldn’t truly love me I have no hope for someone else loving me. I know I’m ugly lanky twink with scar all over. I know I’ll probably still be ugly when I transition. My personality is nonexistent after years of me doing whatever it takes for my parents to be satisfied and would hurt my. I’m left with nothing. I’m a shell of a person with a dried husk of a personality.

My dysphoria or rather the voice in my head that tells me everything I hate about myself. Recently that dysphoria has gotten way worse. It tell me horrible things and a part of me believes it. Examples include; “You are an unlovable freak who will never be loved”, “You will die alone unloved and I pain”, “You will never be a woman like how you will never be loved”, “You will never be a real woman”, and “You haven’t started transitioning so you aren’t even trans”. Thoughts like these plague my mind. 

I need to start hrt soon because the mental strain of dysphoria is horrendous. I know it will not go away and that’s annoying but any kind of decrease in the self hate I feel is a positive. When I was younger I would (still do some) hope that maybe I would wake up as a girl. When I was still very religious I would pray to become a girl. Yet I never realized I could be trans. 

If I was lovable I’d do my best to be the best partner  possible. I would do anything I could physically do to make sure that they know they are loved. I would love them more than anything in the world. The most giddy and easily flustered lesbian ever. I would feel horrible for having to force somebody to have to physically care for me as my body declines. 

In this world where kindness seems to be a rarity, love each other. Make sure you love your friends, your relatives and the people you care about most. You never know what they’re fully going through what demons they’re facing. A hug, a compliment, and a kind gesture means more than you can possibly imagine to those who need it. I emphasize this because at this point it is all your kindness and compassion that keeps me from not killing myself. Thank you all. It means a lot. 

Poem:
Raped by my brother 
A feeling that breaks the mind
Son alike mother

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

(I was sobbing while writing this so I’m sorry for any confusion.)

After so much time of enduring, so many hardships, one would expect me to grow numb to it. I’m unsure how to feel about it, but it does not seem as though I have grown numb to the many hardships I endure on a daily basis. All that to say, I've been through a lot. I’ll be the first one to admit that I'm heavily traumatized. And I am of the belief that no amount of therapy will ever change that. After more than 18 years of life, I’ve experienced enough trauma for multiple lifetimes. This trauma has led to me becoming what I can only refer to as being broken. As if the soul, the hope, and the joy of life being replaced with self hate, dysphoria, trauma, and depression. 

This week has been one of the worst weeks of my life in regards to my chronic pain. Constantly having to fight off crying from the pain I hurt consistently. I have such a hard time walking with my weak ankles and terrible knees. I don’t exactly hobble most of the time. I try to walk “normally”. Trying not to show the pain. I really should use the cane I bought for myself. I don’t because I’m trying to keep it secret from my parents. I have to hide my symptoms constantly so they don’t suspect I'm getting worse and try extremely invasive and unnecessary surgeries.

(To those that aren’t aware my parents had 4 surgical procedures done to me without my consent. Which didn’t result in any betterment of my condition. (They were nerve blocking surgeries on my forehead that involved some kind of injection) Instead leaving large scars along my forehead. They tried to have a fifth surgery done on me which would have been on my spine and had an extremely high likelihood of paralysis. I repeatedly said in front of the doctors and my parents said “I don’t want it”. But behind my back my parents forged my name on documents saying I consented. Only a day before the plan pre-op did I learn about it. I force them to cancel it or I'd expose them forging my name.) 

I got attacked by my brother again. This entire week I've been in excruciating agony (more than just chronic pain) from him attacking me. He attacked me out of nowhere and slammed me against the carpet cover cement floors of my basement. Me proceeded to pommel me slamming his fists against my back. He continued this as I helplessly tried to escape. It only stop when he got bored after 5 ish torture ridden minutes. The next day he did the exact same things. He seems to be focusing on my lower back as he knows that is where my scars are. His attack and hitting has made my back pain frankly unbearable at points with me writhing in pain on the ground because of it.

One would assume chronic pain is the primary reason I hate my body. They would be true in many regards. Yet there are still some other reasons that hold as much if not more. For example, dysphoria makes me want to rip off my own skin sometimes. I hate this vessel I am forced to reside in. I wish with all my heart to be a girl. I wanna be able to at least find the person I see in the mirror as me, not some distorted dysphoria causing flesh bag I reside in now. I don’t want to be tall, lanky ugly like I am now. I wanna be delicate , cute, pretty and lovable. I want with every fiber of my soul to be a girl. 

I want to  be able to find someone who would actually love me. One of my biggest fears is dying without knowing love. I have always been of the opinion that I was unlovable, probably from a combination of parental negative reinforcement, personal self hate, and years of bullying. I definitely understand that I’m young and I shouldn’t be that hard on myself about it. With how short my life may end up being I’m terrified of not knowing what it’s like to be loved. My dream is to be in a lesbian relationship. Girls are so pretty and want to be one but also kiss them. :3 ~////////////~

It would be reasonable to assume that I definitely have some mental issues. Well that 100% correct and I hate every single second of having to live with it. Clinical depression that I’m under medicated for which makes it useless. My stress and anxiety medication that barely helps as my stress level are too high for my current dose. My high stress from my constant worrying about my current situation with my parents and how bad it’s become. The stress has always manifested its way into headaches and stress induced twitching. 

I’ve mentioned it a few times but it has now been eight months since the last time I was hugged consensually. Yes consensually as my mother often tries to corner me or sneak up behind me to try to” hug” me. Her hugging is more like groping from personal experience. Which has made me touch starved yet all well perpetually fearful of that same touch. It sounds depressing even to say but I need to be hugged and able to cry in someone's arms. I want that feeling of safety. I hug plushies just to feel the feeling of being safe.

I sadly have had thoughts of suicide the past few weeks but especially this week. I’ve been in incredible pain due to my brother's attacks. The pain has made it harder to sleep than ever before. Not even crying myself to sleep like usual. I’m really sorry. 

Poem: 

Beaten bruised and bloody
Vision all but muddy 
Safety far from sight
To go his delight 

Back which rips and frays
Pain to last whole days 
Writhing to agony my own
Suffering entirely alone

My body not mine 
That I do opine
Flesh is my curse 
Follows to my hearse

Mind broken and shattered
A soul all but tattered 
Trauma torments me
Pain one can’t see

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

(I was sobbing while writing this so I’m sorry for any confusion.)

After so much time of enduring, so many hardships, one would expect me to grow numb to it. I’m unsure how to feel about it, but it does not seem as though I have grown numb to the many hardships I endure on a daily basis. All that to say, I've been through a lot. I’ll be the first one to admit that I'm heavily traumatized. And I am of the belief that no amount of therapy will ever change that. After more than 18 years of life, I’ve experienced enough trauma for multiple lifetimes. This trauma has led to me becoming what I can only refer to as being broken. As if the soul, the hope, and the joy of life being replaced with self hate, dysphoria, trauma, and depression. 

This week has been one of the worst weeks of my life in regards to my chronic pain. Constantly having to fight off crying from the pain I hurt consistently. I have such a hard time walking with my weak ankles and terrible knees. I don’t exactly hobble most of the time. I try to walk “normally”. Trying not to show the pain. I really should use the cane I bought for myself. I don’t because I’m trying to keep it secret from my parents. I have to hide my symptoms constantly so they don’t suspect I'm getting worse and try extremely invasive and unnecessary surgeries.

(To those that aren’t aware my parents had 4 surgical procedures done to me without my consent. Which didn’t result in any betterment of my condition. (They were nerve blocking surgeries on my forehead that involved some kind of injection) Instead leaving large scars along my forehead. They tried to have a fifth surgery done on me which would have been on my spine and had an extremely high likelihood of paralysis. I repeatedly said in front of the doctors and my parents said “I don’t want it”. But behind my back my parents forged my name on documents saying I consented. Only a day before the plan pre-op did I learn about it. I force them to cancel it or I'd expose them forging my name.) 

I got attacked by my brother again. This entire week I've been in excruciating agony (more than just chronic pain) from him attacking me. He attacked me out of nowhere and slammed me against the carpet cover cement floors of my basement. Me proceeded to pommel me slamming his fists against my back. He continued this as I helplessly tried to escape. It only stop when he got bored after 5 ish torture ridden minutes. The next day he did the exact same things. He seems to be focusing on my lower back as he knows that is where my scars are. His attack and hitting has made my back pain frankly unbearable at points with me writhing in pain on the ground because of it.

One would assume chronic pain is the primary reason I hate my body. They would be true in many regards. Yet there are still some other reasons that hold as much if not more. For example, dysphoria makes me want to rip off my own skin sometimes. I hate this vessel I am forced to reside in. I wish with all my heart to be a girl. I wanna be able to at least find the person I see in the mirror as me, not some distorted dysphoria causing flesh bag I reside in now. I don’t want to be tall, lanky ugly like I am now. I wanna be delicate , cute, pretty and lovable. I want with every fiber of my soul to be a girl. 

I want to  be able to find someone who would actually love me. One of my biggest fears is dying without knowing love. I have always been of the opinion that I was unlovable, probably from a combination of parental negative reinforcement, personal self hate, and years of bullying. I definitely understand that I’m young and I shouldn’t be that hard on myself about it. With how short my life may end up being I’m terrified of not knowing what it’s like to be loved. My dream is to be in a lesbian relationship. Girls are so pretty and want to be one but also kiss them. :3 ~////////////~

It would be reasonable to assume that I definitely have some mental issues. Well that 100% correct and I hate every single second of having to live with it. Clinical depression that I’m under medicated for which makes it useless. My stress and anxiety medication that barely helps as my stress level are too high for my current dose. My high stress from my constant worrying about my current situation with my parents and how bad it’s become. The stress has always manifested its way into headaches and stress induced twitching. 

I’ve mentioned it a few times but it has now been eight months since the last time I was hugged consensually. Yes consensually as my mother often tries to corner me or sneak up behind me to try to” hug” me. Her hugging is more like groping from personal experience. Which has made me touch starved yet all well perpetually fearful of that same touch. It sounds depressing even to say but I need to be hugged and able to cry in someone's arms. I want that feeling of safety. I hug plushies just to feel the feeling of being safe.

I sadly have had thoughts of suicide the past few weeks but especially this week. I’ve been in incredible pain due to my brother's attacks. The pain has made it harder to sleep than ever before. Not even crying myself to sleep like usual. I’m really sorry. 

Poem: 

Beaten bruised and bloody
Vision all but muddy 
Safety far from sight
To go his delight 

Back which rips and frays
Pain to last whole days 
Writhing to agony my own
Suffering entirely alone

My body not mine 
That I do opine
Flesh is my curse 
Follows to my hearse

Mind broken and shattered
A soul all but tattered 
Trauma torments me
Pain one can’t see

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

I’m sorry y’all. Sorry I can’t give you good news. It pains  me to no end knowing that I can’t provide a positive update. This world is cruel and I know that far too well but I still feel incredibly apologetic and remorseful that I can’t provide a happy or positive update. With so much going on it’s hard to express the complexity of the situation. With the situation with so many factors like this one, my actions have to be calculated and precise. As I’m constantly weighing the consequences and unforeseen external effects. But as things keep getting worse and worse and time moves along I’m forced to make some impossible decisions.

This week there was some slightly noticeable physical effects of my bodies deterioration. Mostly had to do with my ability to walk as my ankles were incredibly unstable in provided a lot of pain. My ability to run has, of course been impact greatly. On the few occasions I’ve been forced to. I’ve only been able to sustain a 20–30 second run through immense pain. I don’t get out of breath from it nor that fatigued but instead the impacts have been major pain in my feet and ankles. As always back pain has been a major source of pain. Most people would expect the pain to only happen when bending over or otherwise using my back, which does happen, but it’s not confined to just physical use. Instead being a constant pain. Been worsened by physical use. There is no sweet spot that doesn’t hurt. It hurts when I’m standing, sitting, laying, etc.. 

Going from physical to mental pain I’ve been having more nightmares of the being raped variety. They’ve been two very notable ones of reliving offense from my life, both recent and long ago. The first variety is of me, being raped by my younger brother, but specifically not the time last week, but instead the first ever time he tried. The second variety is made up of reliving memories from when I was very young specifically the memories that involved me being molested. (I’d like to note that these nightmares aren’t fully confined to sleep instead also finding itself in my daydreaming as well.) 

As plenty of people have said, I desperately need therapy and they’re right. Nightmares like these don’t come from an untraumatized and nondepressed mind. My mental state is anything but good and stable. Instead of being more of a constant cacophony of depression, anxiety, dysphoria, and self hate. One of my fears is that despite everything that my mental scars run far too deep to fix. And I am not trying to be hyperbolic my scars run far deeper than I would like to admit. I’m scared that not even therapy can fix me or make me better. The main example that comes up when thinking of this concept is my instinctual fear of being touched. No matter how trusted or loved by me, a person may be if they try to physically touch me I instinctually flinch away. It could be my hand or my arm no matter the body part I will specially pull away out of fear. This isn’t something that develops out of nowhere. Instead, it is a result of years physical harm. I hate that I’m like this.

I’ve said it many times and I will say it many more times. I hate myself. Not out of malice nor out of pity, but instead out of sadness and failure. I've always been a failure. No matter how hard I worked I was never good enough to fill my parents expectations. When they realize that they decide to leave me like a forgotten toy. Yeah I would still be there. But nothing I could do would ever be good enough. My brother would always be better. After so long, I completely believe that I was a complete and utter failure. I try to convince myself that if I did good enough at something that maybe my parents would see that I was actually good at something. The only time they would actually show any interest in me is when it would make them look good. 

I hate my body. The scars from burns, cuts, stabs, and slices littering me head to toe make me self conscious. Another thing that makes me self consciously and incredibly dysphoric is body hair. My body grows quickly and makes me incredibly uncomfortable since I hate the sensory feeling of it. Every masculine part of my body make me want to throw up and cry. I hate it all. My body seems to be more of a tangible consolidation of everything I hate about being who I am. My head and face is a scar ridden mug with eyes left looking like soulless void and a mouth that can’t smile (Every time I try to smile it looks fake and creepy) ( 😭). My arms are a bit long and bruised. My hands are completely covered with scars and rough as sandpaper from cuts. My back has seven distinct scars going horizontally down my lower back, my back slowly ripping itself apart through my muscles and skin tissue stretching, stretching, and ripping. My legs are far too long giving me weird proportions that I am incredibly self-conscious about. My legs are also covered in bruises and cuts, which I perpetually by always wearing pants. I wish with all my heart someday before I inevitably pass away that I will be able to be good enough for myself and be the girl I’ve always wanted to be. 

As I spoke of at the start my situation has so many complex variables that I have to keep in mind and which caused great mental strain. I will try to list all of the external factors, unintentional consequences, and and other constraining factors in my leaving from my parents abuse. 
I am dead broke even with a job. I have $10,000 worth of saved up funds and that’s it.

I still do not have access to my 529 account.

I don’t own my own vehicle. Instead, it’s loaned to me by my parents (is constantly used as leverage over me as they repeatedly have threatened to confiscate the vehicle)

I am currently the only person consistently helping my grandparents, clean and maintain their house. They live in a very dangerous neighborhood in a incredibly dangerous city with one of the highest murder rates in the United States. I am working on cleaning up their house so they can move out to a safer location. There’s a few issues that come up if I am too leave my parents and completely cut contact with my parents.

if I leave and cut all contact with my parents, that means there’s a possibility I will lose contact with them. And to be completely honest, that would ruin my mental health. My grandparents have consistently been the only stable good thing in my life. Despite being related to my mother, they are kind and compassionate. Losing them would completely wreck me mentally.

If I leave and cut contact with my parents and they support me that almost 100% means my grandparent will lose any form of financial help from my parents. That would be incredibly bad for them as I’m unsure of their financial state. I do know that they have to spend a lot on medical expenses as my grandfather has had cancer multiple times. They also have the strain of being the soul caretaker to my disabled cousin, whose mother died two years ago. Without financial backing by my parents I don’t know if they will be able to move out of the incredibly dangerous area that they live in.

I am sorry as always. And I make a promise to myself and you all that I will be 100% transparent when it comes to my situation. That of course includes my battle with self hate and suicidal thoughts. These past two weeks have been incredibly difficult physically, mentally, and emotionally. I had suicidal thoughts multiple times a day these last few weeks. As I’ve always promised you all and myself, I will never kill myself until the pain becomes too much. It’s hard for me to admit it, but I feel I must be loyal and honest to all of you.

Poem:
I walk my lonesome road all alone
Where I know I have no home
A road cracked and over grown 

In the horizon the hills loom
A dread reminder of my own doom
Perpetuating only gloom

Horrors one eye may never know
From places pasted long ago
Telling the heart to let go

Tragedies known by those who listened
Unholy and still christened
In lack of any light it did glisten 

May those who follow the road beware its danger
Never walk it in any anger
Beware of only the stranger

Body falling apart as roam
Tearing apart skin to bone
I must only walk alone

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

I’m sorry y’all. Sorry I can’t give you good news. It pains  me to no end knowing that I can’t provide a positive update. This world is cruel and I know that far too well but I still feel incredibly apologetic and remorseful that I can’t provide a happy or positive update. With so much going on it’s hard to express the complexity of the situation. With the situation with so many factors like this one, my actions have to be calculated and precise. As I’m constantly weighing the consequences and unforeseen external effects. But as things keep getting worse and worse and time moves along I’m forced to make some impossible decisions.

This week there was some slightly noticeable physical effects of my bodies deterioration. Mostly had to do with my ability to walk as my ankles were incredibly unstable in provided a lot of pain. My ability to run has, of course been impact greatly. On the few occasions I’ve been forced to. I’ve only been able to sustain a 20–30 second run through immense pain. I don’t get out of breath from it nor that fatigued but instead the impacts have been major pain in my feet and ankles. As always back pain has been a major source of pain. Most people would expect the pain to only happen when bending over or otherwise using my back, which does happen, but it’s not confined to just physical use. Instead being a constant pain. Been worsened by physical use. There is no sweet spot that doesn’t hurt. It hurts when I’m standing, sitting, laying, etc.. 

Going from physical to mental pain I’ve been having more nightmares of the being raped variety. They’ve been two very notable ones of reliving offense from my life, both recent and long ago. The first variety is of me, being raped by my younger brother, but specifically not the time last week, but instead the first ever time he tried. The second variety is made up of reliving memories from when I was very young specifically the memories that involved me being molested. (I’d like to note that these nightmares aren’t fully confined to sleep instead also finding itself in my daydreaming as well.) 

As plenty of people have said, I desperately need therapy and they’re right. Nightmares like these don’t come from an untraumatized and nondepressed mind. My mental state is anything but good and stable. Instead of being more of a constant cacophony of depression, anxiety, dysphoria, and self hate. One of my fears is that despite everything that my mental scars run far too deep to fix. And I am not trying to be hyperbolic my scars run far deeper than I would like to admit. I’m scared that not even therapy can fix me or make me better. The main example that comes up when thinking of this concept is my instinctual fear of being touched. No matter how trusted or loved by me, a person may be if they try to physically touch me I instinctually flinch away. It could be my hand or my arm no matter the body part I will specially pull away out of fear. This isn’t something that develops out of nowhere. Instead, it is a result of years physical harm. I hate that I’m like this.

I’ve said it many times and I will say it many more times. I hate myself. Not out of malice nor out of pity, but instead out of sadness and failure. I've always been a failure. No matter how hard I worked I was never good enough to fill my parents expectations. When they realize that they decide to leave me like a forgotten toy. Yeah I would still be there. But nothing I could do would ever be good enough. My brother would always be better. After so long, I completely believe that I was a complete and utter failure. I try to convince myself that if I did good enough at something that maybe my parents would see that I was actually good at something. The only time they would actually show any interest in me is when it would make them look good. 

I hate my body. The scars from burns, cuts, stabs, and slices littering me head to toe make me self conscious. Another thing that makes me self consciously and incredibly dysphoric is body hair. My body grows quickly and makes me incredibly uncomfortable since I hate the sensory feeling of it. Every masculine part of my body make me want to throw up and cry. I hate it all. My body seems to be more of a tangible consolidation of everything I hate about being who I am. My head and face is a scar ridden mug with eyes left looking like soulless void and a mouth that can’t smile (Every time I try to smile it looks fake and creepy) ( 😭). My arms are a bit long and bruised. My hands are completely covered with scars and rough as sandpaper from cuts. My back has seven distinct scars going horizontally down my lower back, my back slowly ripping itself apart through my muscles and skin tissue stretching, stretching, and ripping. My legs are far too long giving me weird proportions that I am incredibly self-conscious about. My legs are also covered in bruises and cuts, which I perpetually by always wearing pants. I wish with all my heart someday before I inevitably pass away that I will be able to be good enough for myself and be the girl I’ve always wanted to be. 

As I spoke of at the start my situation has so many complex variables that I have to keep in mind and which caused great mental strain. I will try to list all of the external factors, unintentional consequences, and and other constraining factors in my leaving from my parents abuse. 
I am dead broke even with a job. I have $10,000 worth of saved up funds and that’s it.

I still do not have access to my 529 account.

I don’t own my own vehicle. Instead, it’s loaned to me by my parents (is constantly used as leverage over me as they repeatedly have threatened to confiscate the vehicle)

I am currently the only person consistently helping my grandparents, clean and maintain their house. They live in a very dangerous neighborhood in a incredibly dangerous city with one of the highest murder rates in the United States. I am working on cleaning up their house so they can move out to a safer location. There’s a few issues that come up if I am too leave my parents and completely cut contact with my parents.

if I leave and cut all contact with my parents, that means there’s a possibility I will lose contact with them. And to be completely honest, that would ruin my mental health. My grandparents have consistently been the only stable good thing in my life. Despite being related to my mother, they are kind and compassionate. Losing them would completely wreck me mentally.

If I leave and cut contact with my parents and they support me that almost 100% means my grandparent will lose any form of financial help from my parents. That would be incredibly bad for them as I’m unsure of their financial state. I do know that they have to spend a lot on medical expenses as my grandfather has had cancer multiple times. They also have the strain of being the soul caretaker to my disabled cousin, whose mother died two years ago. Without financial backing by my parents I don’t know if they will be able to move out of the incredibly dangerous area that they live in.

I am sorry as always. And I make a promise to myself and you all that I will be 100% transparent when it comes to my situation. That of course includes my battle with self hate and suicidal thoughts. These past two weeks have been incredibly difficult physically, mentally, and emotionally. I had suicidal thoughts multiple times a day these last few weeks. As I’ve always promised you all and myself, I will never kill myself until the pain becomes too much. It’s hard for me to admit it, but I feel I must be loyal and honest to all of you.

Poem:
I walk my lonesome road all alone
Where I know I have no home
A road cracked and over grown 

In the horizon the hills loom
A dread reminder of my own doom
Perpetuating only gloom

Horrors one eye may never know
From places pasted long ago
Telling the heart to let go

Tragedies known by those who listened
Unholy and still christened
In lack of any light it did glisten 

May those who follow the road beware its danger
Never walk it in any anger
Beware of only the stranger

Body falling apart as roam
Tearing apart skin to bone
I must only walk alone

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

Intense trauma and stress has somehow worsened my already hellish life. Every week, I hope and plead with the universe that I will have something good to report to all of you. All of you have been such a blessing and I want to repay you to everyone of you with some actual good news. I feel utterly horrible that I can’t provide you all with a happy update. I apologize from the depths of my heart that cannot provide any form of good news.

My younger brother tried raping me again. Yes you read that right he tried again. And to make an already horrific thing even worse, he attacked me again. Full story : My brother went into my room and attacked me via punching, kicking, and wrestling me. He slammed me against my wall and bed. Then he proceeded to pound me with his leg on my bed. I internally knew what he was going to try to do. He had pinned my leg and proceeded to mount on top of me. I knew I had to do something so I punched him in his groin. I used the opportunity to wriggle away from him. I feel more violated and hurt than I ever have been.

I NEED TO GET OUT! There are so many reasons and these past few weeks have desperately proven that it must happen soon. I previously mentioned that I have started college. I am spending more time away from my family yet things at home have gotten even worse. The mental strain of my parents' constant abuse combined with stress over college has worsened my mental state more than you could possibly imagine.

My physical state is declining as always. I fear my body’s decline may be accelerating. Time will tell on this matter. My daily agony does not wait for anything so I continue to suffer. I don’t know how to explain to all of you who do not have chronic pain, the unrestricted anguish that comes with severe forms of chronic illnesses. The only true way I may describe it is as a never-ending torment of the body. Leaving no moment undisturbed by its constant unyielding pain. It does not rest. It never stops. Sleep is the only place where freedom from the agony may be found. Yet to free yourself you must still be in pain the pain never ends.

These last few weeks have had the worst dysphoria I’ve ever experienced. Levels I have never seen. “My body” if I can even call it that feels so wrong. When my dysphoria gets this bad every inch of my skin feels itchy as if it is just a suit. Every inch feels wrong and it doesn’t feel like me. I desperately hate this feeling but I can’t escape it.

I desperately need hrt I feel so wrong and gross. I feel as though I’m constantly miss representing myself. My own social self is just a lie made to perpetuate my lie of being a man. I wish to be a girl. I wish to be pretty. I want to at least be pretty before I die.

Speaking of death. It is an important and inevitable fact of life that precedes everything. I can’t not think of my own death. As it is a looming fact that uses pain to remind me of it’s existence. I may how talked about it last time but I say it again. I know how I’m going to die. I know I’ll kill my self. Hopefully not out of sadness or depression but instead out of pain. I fully understand that as my body worsens so will the pain. Some day far in the future hopefully the pain will become to much to handle physically. The pain will overwhelm the senses. And then and only then will I allow myself to leave this mortal plane. Hope I’ll be loved and was safe by then.

Poem:
Good day were delusion 
An effect of being disillusion
Left wanting a happy conclusion 

Days turn to weeks
Body left broken and weak 
So quiet and meek

Left to suffer 
Like no other
My own mother

A girl trapped in this form
Made to conform
Left being deformed

Hurt by those made to love me
Feeling that they are above me
Yet they push and shove me

Violated afraid of all
No one to help when I fall
Never there when I bawl

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

Intense trauma and stress has somehow worsened my already hellish life. Every week, I hope and plead with the universe that I will have something good to report to all of you. All of you have been such a blessing and I want to repay you to everyone of you with some actual good news. I feel utterly horrible that I can’t provide you all with a happy update. I apologize from the depths of my heart that cannot provide any form of good news.

My younger brother tried raping me again. Yes you read that right he tried again. And to make an already horrific thing even worse, he attacked me again. Full story : My brother went into my room and attacked me via punching, kicking, and wrestling me. He slammed me against my wall and bed. Then he proceeded to pound me with his leg on my bed. I internally knew what he was going to try to do. He had pinned my leg and proceeded to mount on top of me. I knew I had to do something so I punched him in his groin. I used the opportunity to wriggle away from him. I feel more violated and hurt than I ever have been.

I NEED TO GET OUT! There are so many reasons and these past few weeks have desperately proven that it must happen soon. I previously mentioned that I have started college. I am spending more time away from my family yet things at home have gotten even worse. The mental strain of my parents' constant abuse combined with stress over college has worsened my mental state more than you could possibly imagine.

My physical state is declining as always. I fear my body’s decline may be accelerating. Time will tell on this matter. My daily agony does not wait for anything so I continue to suffer. I don’t know how to explain to all of you who do not have chronic pain, the unrestricted anguish that comes with severe forms of chronic illnesses. The only true way I may describe it is as a never-ending torment of the body. Leaving no moment undisturbed by its constant unyielding pain. It does not rest. It never stops. Sleep is the only place where freedom from the agony may be found. Yet to free yourself you must still be in pain the pain never ends.

These last few weeks have had the worst dysphoria I’ve ever experienced. Levels I have never seen. “My body” if I can even call it that feels so wrong. When my dysphoria gets this bad every inch of my skin feels itchy as if it is just a suit. Every inch feels wrong and it doesn’t feel like me. I desperately hate this feeling but I can’t escape it.

I desperately need hrt I feel so wrong and gross. I feel as though I’m constantly miss representing myself. My own social self is just a lie made to perpetuate my lie of being a man. I wish to be a girl. I wish to be pretty. I want to at least be pretty before I die.

Speaking of death. It is an important and inevitable fact of life that precedes everything. I can’t not think of my own death. As it is a looming fact that uses pain to remind me of it’s existence. I may how talked about it last time but I say it again. I know how I’m going to die. I know I’ll kill my self. Hopefully not out of sadness or depression but instead out of pain. I fully understand that as my body worsens so will the pain. Some day far in the future hopefully the pain will become to much to handle physically. The pain will overwhelm the senses. And then and only then will I allow myself to leave this mortal plane. Hope I’ll be loved and was safe by then.

Poem:
Good day were delusion 
An effect of being disillusion
Left wanting a happy conclusion 

Days turn to weeks
Body left broken and weak 
So quiet and meek

Left to suffer 
Like no other
My own mother

A girl trapped in this form
Made to conform
Left being deformed

Hurt by those made to love me
Feeling that they are above me
Yet they push and shove me

Violated afraid of all
No one to help when I fall
Never there when I bawl

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Edit: here To clear up some confusion.

Right now it is not in my best interest and safety to go to law enforcement as it will just further worsen my situation. Unless they can perform noninvasive investigation without notifying my parents I’m better off without the help of authorities. With the fact that a lot of my evidence can fall under hearsay adds a sensitive element to all of this. The situation is very delicate and I’m saddened that it can’t be resolved in a swift manner.

Thank you all for the support! I love you all.

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

Another horrible, stressful, and otherwise terrible week has come to a close. As what seems to be far too common there is no good news today. But of course bad news is plentiful both personally and broadly. This rather unhumorous reality seems to find itself comical in its cruelty. 

Nothing new to report with my physical status. My back is still causing me unimaginable agony. While my legs I still has unstable as ever. My joints still pop & ache at the slightest bit of movement. Just the usual unfortunate suffering I’ve come to expect out of my life. There is no comfort to be found in my circumstances. All of the hurt and pain. Chronic pain is the most evil and unnecessary thing in the universe. What do you mean the pain will never go away and will only get worse! What do you mean I will never have a moment when I'm not in unending agony. WHY?! :<

Fear can be found in every person. Fear is a constant found in all sentient life. Our fears tell a lot about us as they are the culmination of our life experiences put into a sensible feeling of dread. My fears say a lot about me. My main 3 fears are that:

In the end, my life was meaningless. Every decision I made never truly amounted to anything. That all the pain and suffering I’ve endured amounts to nothing. Is that every challenge, every heartache, every abuse that I faced leads to nothing. So I will be forgotten the only evidence of my existence being a moss covered gravestone. A stone with the wrong name, but no one to correct it.

I’ll keep failing. I never escape from my parents' grasp. Force to constantly relive my parents “bipolar” cycle. Never able to truly express myself. Being forced to suppress who I am. Never allowing me to transition.

I alone body decaying never do find somebody to love me. Left without help as I lose my ability to walk. 

I've had some of the worst dysphoria in my entire life this week. Literally every single time I see a slight bit of my reflection I get uncomfortable. I want to start hrt so badly but I’m too broke and don’t have any place to go get it. So I’m left just hating myself. Lately I have found myself in a depressive loop for the simple fact of how I was born. Like every in my life it’s a mistake and I wish for a different outcome. Every second I feel like I’m lying to others. Lying to myself by acting male. 

How do people find love? Like seriously. To say I’m social inept is an understatement. Years of restrictive parenting, social isolation, and constant appointments have left me socially stunted. I’m awkward, weird, and strange sometimes. I apologize constantly for fear of offending or hurting someone. I have never been in a relationship and well I’m scared that means I’m truly unlovable. Can I blame them? My own parents never loved me. The only love they did exhibit was extremely conditional. I can understand why nobody wants to love a traumatized crippled scar covered trans girl.

I started college yesterday. Which does mean less time at home. Which is incredibly nice. Sadly no word on the 529 transfer so I’m planning to ask my father about it. :3

I know it’s really really fucked up, but I know how I’m probably gonna die. I don’t know when but I do know how. Some day the pain will become too much for even me to bear so I will make peace with all those I love. I will check my will. Then and only then will I kill myself. I don’t know the method. As my final fuck you to the universe. I will solace in knowing in this fucked up universe that has hurt and taken so much from me I will get the last laugh. 

(No poem sorry) :(

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

Another horrible, stressful, and otherwise terrible week has come to a close. As what seems to be far too common there is no good news today. But of course bad news is plentiful both personally and broadly. This rather unhumorous reality seems to find itself comical in its cruelty. 

Nothing new to report with my physical status. My back is still causing me unimaginable agony. While my legs I still has unstable as ever. My joints still pop & ache at the slightest bit of movement. Just the usual unfortunate suffering I’ve come to expect out of my life. There is no comfort to be found in my circumstances. All of the hurt and pain. Chronic pain is the most evil and unnecessary thing in the universe. What do you mean the pain will never go away and will only get worse! What do you mean I will never have a moment when I'm not in unending agony. WHY?! :<

Fear can be found in every person. Fear is a constant found in all sentient life. Our fears tell a lot about us as they are the culmination of our life experiences put into a sensible feeling of dread. My fears say a lot about me. My main 3 fears are that:

In the end, my life was meaningless. Every decision I made never truly amounted to anything. That all the pain and suffering I’ve endured amounts to nothing. Is that every challenge, every heartache, every abuse that I faced leads to nothing. So I will be forgotten the only evidence of my existence being a moss covered gravestone. A stone with the wrong name, but no one to correct it.

I’ll keep failing. I never escape from my parents' grasp. Force to constantly relive my parents “bipolar” cycle. Never able to truly express myself. Being forced to suppress who I am. Never allowing me to transition.

I alone body decaying never do find somebody to love me. Left without help as I lose my ability to walk. 

I've had some of the worst dysphoria in my entire life this week. Literally every single time I see a slight bit of my reflection I get uncomfortable. I want to start hrt so badly but I’m too broke and don’t have any place to go get it. So I’m left just hating myself. Lately I have found myself in a depressive loop for the simple fact of how I was born. Like every in my life it’s a mistake and I wish for a different outcome. Every second I feel like I’m lying to others. Lying to myself by acting male. 

How do people find love? Like seriously. To say I’m social inept is an understatement. Years of restrictive parenting, social isolation, and constant appointments have left me socially stunted. I’m awkward, weird, and strange sometimes. I apologize constantly for fear of offending or hurting someone. I have never been in a relationship and well I’m scared that means I’m truly unlovable. Can I blame them? My own parents never loved me. The only love they did exhibit was extremely conditional. I can understand why nobody wants to love a traumatized crippled scar covered trans girl.

I started college yesterday. Which does mean less time at home. Which is incredibly nice. Sadly no word on the 529 transfer so I’m planning to ask my father about it. :3

I know it’s really really fucked up, but I know how I’m probably gonna die. I don’t know when but I do know how. Some day the pain will become too much for even me to bear so I will make peace with all those I love. I will check my will. Then and only then will I kill myself. I don’t know the method. As my final fuck you to the universe. I will solace in knowing in this fucked up universe that has hurt and taken so much from me I will get the last laugh. 

(No poem sorry) :(

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

Four years that’s how long it’s been since I had a single day where I wasn’t in constant pain. Over 1200 days since the last time I didn’t suffer. The part that messes with me the most is THE PAINS ONLY GETTING WORSE. There’s no cure, treatment, or antidote. What’s the point if it's only going to get worse. Why should I bear the agony if it is only going to worsen? Condemning myself to a future filled with worse anguish. As every second of pain now is the same pain i will feel in the future. Why do I keep going? 

This week I have been overcome by my mental stalemate as I can’t bear to lose certain people in my life, but I’m unsure if I am able to help them see through my parents' manipulation. Losing them would likely mentally break me. As these are the people who actually showed me some semblance of love and care in my life. What should I do? I keep having panic attacks about this as I’m unsure what to do.

No updates regarding my 529 for now as my payment is still being processed. Hopefully it should go through soon. :3 

I talked about it last week, but I cried way too much. Like I don’t think somebody should be crying a minimum of three times every day. Crying myself to sleep everyday can’t be good for my health. Depression over everything has really made it hard to stop my incessant crying. I have had multiple episodes of crying as I keep being reminded of my brother raping me. I have to see him every day. Every day I have to see the same people who have hurt me all my life. Those same people that brought me into this living hell.

6 months is the amount of time since the last time I was touched/hugged consensually. In the six months has it happened unconsensually? Yes, my mother has a habit of trying to corner me, forcing me into hugging her to get out. She also will try to grab at me inappropriately. Yes it is as gross as you can imagine. Every time I feel completely violated and disgusted. After years of me telling her NO. She continually ignores my pleas.

It hurts to not be loved even by yourself. Though I may try, it always ends up the same. I look in the mirror and hate who I see. It isn't me more of a distorted reflection of everything I hate about myself. I cant see the girl i want to be but instead the broken man. I wish so much to be a girl. I want to live out my lesbian dreams. I want to be pretty. I want to be someone I can actually love. Some that I can look in the mirror and smile at. 

I try not to think about it too much but this week I will admit I did feel like killing myself. The pain will never go away. All my goals have been rendered unachievable as I slowly lose function. What's the point of it all? To prove that I can or some inspirational bullshit. I’m suffering from a medical condition no one can cure. I have been hit, beaten, sexualy asualted, and raped. I was scared from multiple unconsensual surgeries. Dysphoric because this world is unendingly cruel gave me a gross male body. I'm in hell and death is so tempting. I’ll be forgotten in 5 to 10 years if that anyway. If my purpose was to suffer I've done a great job. I won't live to be old anyway. I’ll die as I live in the same constant agony.  What's the point?  

Years of pain
Years of anguish 
Years of so much languish 
Years I’ve wait
Years I’ve bided 
Years I’ve been left unguided 

I wish for love
I wish for life 
I wish for one day that I may be a wife
I wish to be happy 
I wish to be free
I wish to smile with genuine glee

Suffering from hurt
Suffering from pain 
Suffering that I must contain 
Suffering in life
Suffering in death
Suffering in each and every breath 
 
Hurt by mother 
Hurt by father
Hurt by them so why should I bother
Hurt that lasts
Hurt that stays
Hurt that lasts for days

I miss those who I lost
I miss those who died
I miss those who let me confide 
I miss the nostalgia 
I miss the delusion 
I miss when there was a happy conclusion 

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

Another week has passed and for the first time in maybe a year I have some potential good news. But it is my life so that good news has to be pair with some exponentially worst news. Because this world do so love to be consistent. After so many years, you’d think that I’d be accustomed to my lifes plot, twist and irony I am not.

Firstly, the good news. Threw a bit of careful wording and inconspicuous questioning. I will be able to gain ownership of my 529 after the first tuition payment. I made sure to record audio of it so my parents claim that they didn’t make a verbal agreement. 

Now the bad news. Things with my body have gotten way worse. I’ve talked about how I love to go exploring as it allows me to be outside and avoid my parents. Well I went out exploring recently and nearly collapsed in the middle of the woods. I know I work my body too hard and we'll explore but still I felt so pathetic and weak. I was a few miles from civilization so I was able to walk back but still feel so useless. It may have been the insane heat wave making my POTS worse but still I never used to do that.

In ever worse news I’ve started have disturbing nightmares of the times my brother tried to rape me. So far I woke up in cold sweat twice not fully remembering the nightmare just now it had something to do with that. These nightmares take away my only escape from the physical mental pain I go through. Sleep is the only time I let myself be vulnerable. Not to mention how it takes forever for me to sleep as I’m always kept up by my pain.

I cry a lot. Every day, I cry a minimum of three times twice while I’m working and once trying to go to sleep. I don’t think it's healthy to cry that much but I can help it. After years of suppressing, my emotions have left me a mess. Mentally and physically broken after years of neglect. 

Dysphoria is the worst feeling to ever exist.I keep looking into the mirror as the person that I see is not me. Instead it’s saying absurd depiction of everything. I hate about myself. I see my scars, the marks from the unsensual surgeries, my sunken eyes, the constant shaking from constantly being on edge, and the cuts and bruises caused by my fragile body. I’d give so much just to be good enough for myself.

I day dream about being hugged and being able to cry in somebody’s arms as they console me telling me I’m a “good girl”, “I’m safe”, and “nobody can hurt me anymore. I know it’s stupid but it’s sometimes the only thing that keeps me going. 

Poem: 
I cry from pain.
I cry from sorrow. 
I cry every day where I wallow. 
I cry in day. 
I cry in night. 
I cry always out of sight.

Pain from sadness.
Pain from fear.
Pain for everything I hold dear.
Pain in back.
Pain in front.
Pain that I always must confront 

All hour
All day
All the time in disarray
All is constant 
All is perpetual 
All never was consensual 

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. :3

Another week has passed, rather lonely, as this week saw a major increase in my pain. Forced to deal with the verbal, emotional, and physical abuse that comes with being at home. I’m sad to report that every situation has gotten worse as this week has really tested my resolve. I recede into my own mind to escape the force of reality. Thinking of it as extremely nostalgia biased memories of the past, hoping that they can give me the solace I need to keep going another day.

I’ve been in so much pain this week. I spent nearly half an hour lying on the bed of rocks next to a train track as the pain overwhelmed me while I was working. Days like these, I cursed the gods for my suffering. For my absolute physical ability to control or even to dampen the pain. Something like this must be from the cosmos or a curse to propagate my own suffering. Many nights by lying and rolling back and forth from pain, I push for anything to stop the pain. In the cruelest part of this joke, I do not know the punchline too is that not even medication and painkillers may ease the pain. As only the most addictive of substances would even slightly reduce my pain.

The worst part is I didn’t have to be this way. I’ve been told that when I was just in the womb, my parents had the option to screen for genetic illnesses so they could decide if they wanted to keep the child or stop its needless suffering. They never did that test. I think about it a lot. Even if they were 100% sure they wanted to keep me, they could’ve still identified early the many illnesses they suffer from today. They could’ve prevented years worth of self-doubt over why I wasn’t as good as my brother and the others my age. They had the money, but like most things in my life, they’d rather not waste the money on it.

I haven't had any progress on escaping, as I need to tiptoe around the situation to not raise suspicion. I’m hoping next week I can covertly work on obtaining my medical files, as the request link is tied to my parents. Things seem so slow, especially with how I’ve been in so much pain. 

It’s been over two weeks since I’ve seen any of my friends face-to-face. It’s been five months since the last time I was conceptually touched. I wish I took out these things, but years of abuse have made me not take it for granted. I love my friends more than anything in the world. They are all they have to rely on. They are all people that I can truly say really care about me. The thing about friends is they have lives of their own. And that’s where family is supposed to fill in, and well, my family didn't. That has left me in a weird state of limbo, as the time in which my family is supposed to occupy this instead is empty; they take me in a depressive stupor. I'm really lonely, and I need some love. I feel pathetic, as this just makes me feel. I don’t deserve any of that love. I have a hard time believing I deserve to live, let alone to be loved. Years of self doubt, manipulation, and degradation have left me a pathetic husk of a human. All I wanted was to be loved and cared for; as a child, I couldn’t have gotten even one of them. I hope something after I die that made me a singular atom of my body finds its place apart from something that receives the need love and care that it deserves.

I am 6 foot 1 inch twink covered in scars with the self-esteem of Eeyore the donkey and self-worth that is immeasurably low. I wish for every moment for these four things: to be loved, to escape, to be a girl, and not be in pain. I’ve never dated, nor have I ever had a partner. I have been the victim of two attempted rapes. I don’t know if I can ever be loved. I wish with all my heart that I could. That's who I am, a dreamer that wishes for freedom and love. 

I want to rip at my skin sometimes, and the dysphoria of my scar covered body overwhelms me. I wish for love, but yet I can't love myself. I can't love my body. I see it as a gross misrepresentation of who I am, not a reflection. My reflection is a reminder I can't bear to behold. I find the suffering rather difficult to sustain. HRT seems so far away as I'm trapped in this accursed reality. I wish nothing more than to just be me. 
If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Love Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people, it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, a chronically ill, depressed, touch-starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. Probably my longest ever. TLDR included:3 

As I long for the past, I realize that the past I remember is but an illusion made by rose-tinted glasses. The real good times were very few and far between, and what I thought were good memories take on whole new deeply disturbing meanings. I cry at anything that reminds me of my childhood, as I know I’ll never get it back. Years of my life ruined and destroyed. As all the other years were filled with social isolation and doctor's appointments. But yet I still yearn for it back. Before I realized I was being molested. Before I knew of my body's degradation. Before I had everything taken away.

**Physical Pain**:
Writing these posts will be a big challenge, as it’s very hard to truly encompass my feelings and experiences in words. There’s so much I want to say, but I don't have the literary know-how to express it. It’s hardest to describe the pain I go through because it’s me equating other things to express the physical form that I’m going through. As we all don’t share the same experiences, it’s impossible to truly explain fully the pain I feel. Yet every week I try to put words to the experiences I have. Giving you all a window into my life, or rather, my sad excuse for one.

"Grief" and "despair" are words. I seldom use, but I feel they are the perfect words to describe my current physical state. I am a 6 ft 1 in twink whose body is literally tearing apart. My ligaments and connective tissue are so weak I’m not able to maintain any form of muscle. Because of this weakness of ligaments, my back is perpetually in pain. Every waking second I feel a ripping and tearing pain throughout my body. To get back to the point. I find myself going through the stages of grief every few weeks. Grieving the decline of my physical health and ability. Feeling a pit of despair as I face the harsh realities of my current predicament. The crushing feeling that, despite all the hard work, I’ll do. I’ll never be equivalent to my peers.

I always tried to hide my disabilities, as I knew that if people knew about it, they could take advantage of it. My brother was one of those people. Being the lucky son of a bitch, he has got all the good genetics in my family and took full advantage of them. He knew that he had superior strength and physical ability. He used that fact as the BASIS for me being the equivalent to a human punching bag for him. Countless amounts of times he would attack me with brutal force. I tried to defend myself, but 99 times out of 100 I got overpowered. He would usually use his superior size to overwhelm and corner me. Nearly every time these fights would happen after he felt that he had properly attacked me. I would go crying in my bruised and bloody state to my parents, but my crying never really worked. Their punishments for him were nonexistent, and many times the fact that I fought back was used as a reason for the both of us to be punished. The majority of times my parents (my mother) would believe my brother that I was making it all up. You think that the bruises would be more than enough evidence, but alas, it was not. 

Over the years, my brother's attacks evolved. This mainly was caused by the inconceivably stupid idea to enroll both my brother and me into martial arts classes. Now think about that for a second with the context that my brother has anger issues and took them out on me. My parent had me and “A FUCKING CHILD WITH ANGER ISSUES LEARNS MARTIAL ARTS!" My brother went from bludgeoning to precise kicks and punches. I did also get the training but was never as good as he was, like everything in life. Then after a while it evolved to what it is now: a focus on choking me and using his weight to pin me. (That's how they managed to pin me down and violate me.) On multiple occasions I nearly fully passed out from lack of air due to his actions.

**Mental Pain**:
Going from physical to psychological pain, I’d like to clarify, as some of you asked about the surgeries I was forced into. There were 4 surgeries. 3 were on my forehead, which has resulted in a circle-indent-shaped scar. I try to hide them the best I can by always wearing a hat. It looks worse because I also have severe acne scarring as well. The scars lower my self-esteem to the negatives. The 4th surgery was another pain-management surgery that didn’t work, just not on my head. The second, third, & fourth surgeries were done despite my protest and rejection. They did force me to do these surgeries by driving me there and forcing me to sign or just forging my name. 

For all your information, this is the same place I nearly had the operation on my back that would have possibly paralyzed me. I’ve mentioned in a previous post that my parents forged my name and lied to the doctor. They had planned to have an operation done on my back that I repeatedly refused due to the high likelihood of failure and major complications. I only figured it out the day before the pre-operation checkup a few weeks before the surgery. I had to threaten to expose their forging and lying for them to stop. 

Depression sucks. I take antidepressants, but it’s too small a dose. Every time I tried to get a larger dose, my parents blew it out of proportion and took me to my psychiatrist. This psychiatrist would agree with anything they said and told me that I could pray my problems away. So I have to be under-medicated for clinical depression. :3 Yay, just what I need even less help with my depression.

Despair is a horrible state that I find myself in time and time again. My problems, big and small, only worsen as life continues. I have to face all my problems while feeling helpless to broader issues in modern life. I have to suffer so much pain while rich pedophiles are only getting richer and never facing consequences. My problems seem insignificant in the face of depravity. Yet I still despair over my suffering. The never-ending mental, physical, and verbal abuse is a backdrop to my rather bleak belief in the future. 

**Escaping**: 
I’m really sorry I can’t give you all a good update in regard to escaping. Nothing really has changed. My mom is still incredibly creepy and gross to me. No luck finding any information about my 529 account. I’ve just had to put my head down for the time being and work. Dealing with my mom's bipolar-esque mood shifts to the best of my abilities. (Note: My mom is undiagnosed but heavily implied to have severe OCD.)

I’m pretty hard on myself when it comes to everything. It probably comes from how I was never good enough for my parents and therefore myself. Since I was young, they had very high expectations of me, as they were very successful in their own fields. They had expectations for sports and academics that, if not met, would usually result in disappointment and backhanded encouragement. In contrast, my brother would be praised for his excellence and encouraged consistently. After a while I inadvertently mentally reinforced that anything I did was never good enough. Granted, my own actions and accomplishments really reinforced it, like my very average SAT score and GPA. 

I've never been good at anything. And anytime I would find something that I was potentially good at, I would be discouraged or ridiculed for my interest. All this has led me to have a very, very low sense of self-worth and self-esteem. “I always could be better.” “Why try if I’m just going to fail?" “A failure that is never good enough.” 

Not being loved for such a long time sucks. Knowing that all the affection you remember as a child was either manipulation or was just fake. I just want to feel loved. I need to cry in somebody’s arms and feel safe. I want to be somebody’s good girl. I want to make up for all the times I was never loved. I wish to live out my lesbian dreams before I die. Because I just don’t want to die alone. Before my life ends I want to experience true love & compassion. 

I want to be a girl so bad. I know people both say that they have one just because I say so, but my stupid brain has an impossible time trying to accept that. Every day I regret ever coming out to my parents because it made things so much worse. All my parents have done with it is just act incredibly creepy towards me and threaten to out me to my brother and members of my small town. I never get to act how I want, so I always feel fake. Being stuck with them has just made the dysphoria so much worse. I hate my body. It just makes me want to tear off my skin. I feel so trapped by my situation, stuck in the home with a family that doesn’t love me, in the body that I hate, as somebody that I am not. I want to be accepted as who I am. I want to be pretty. I want to be loved. 

Being touch starved for me is weird. I desperately need a hug and to be loved. But I also am scared of people touching and hurting me. Maybe it’s from years of physical attacks by my brother. Or maybe it’s trauma from being molested. Most likely it’s both. I really need a hug or just physical contact to feel grounded and not alone. It’s been literal months since I have been touched consensually.

(TLDR) 
My body is in constant excruciating pain with no feasible end. I reflect on my younger brother's physical/sexual attacks. I continue to struggle to mentally deal with my fucked up childhood. My depression is worsening due to the current state of the world combined with my situation. I’m really mentally and physically broken right now, as no progress regarding leaving my parents has been made. Dysphoria is mentally kicking my ass. Life just keeps getting worse.

If you have any advice, it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life, and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Love Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people, it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, a chronically ill, depressed, touch-starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. Probably my longest ever. TLDR included:3 

As I long for the past, I realize that the past I remember is but an illusion made by rose-tinted glasses. The real good times were very few and far between, and what I thought were good memories take on whole new deeply disturbing meanings. I cry at anything that reminds me of my childhood, as I know I’ll never get it back. Years of my life ruined and destroyed. As all the other years were filled with social isolation and doctor's appointments. But yet I still yearn for it back. Before I realized I was being molested. Before I knew of my body's degradation. Before I had everything taken away.

Physical Pain:
Writing these posts will be a big challenge, as it’s very hard to truly encompass my feelings and experiences in words. There’s so much I want to say, but I don't have the literary know-how to express it. It’s hardest to describe the pain I go through because it’s me equating other things to express the physical form that I’m going through. As we all don’t share the same experiences, it’s impossible to truly explain fully the pain I feel. Yet every week I try to put words to the experiences I have. Giving you all a window into my life, or rather, my sad excuse for one.

"Grief" and "despair" are words. I seldom use, but I feel they are the perfect words to describe my current physical state. I am a 6 ft 1 in twink whose body is literally tearing apart. My ligaments and connective tissue are so weak I’m not able to maintain any form of muscle. Because of this weakness of ligaments, my back is perpetually in pain. Every waking second I feel a ripping and tearing pain throughout my body. To get back to the point. I find myself going through the stages of grief every few weeks. Grieving the decline of my physical health and ability. Feeling a pit of despair as I face the harsh realities of my current predicament. The crushing feeling that, despite all the hard work, I’ll do. I’ll never be equivalent to my peers.

I always tried to hide my disabilities, as I knew that if people knew about it, they could take advantage of it. My brother was one of those people. Being the lucky son of a bitch, he has got all the good genetics in my family and took full advantage of them. He knew that he had superior strength and physical ability. He used that fact as the BASIS for me being the equivalent to a human punching bag for him. Countless amounts of times he would attack me with brutal force. I tried to defend myself, but 99 times out of 100 I got overpowered. He would usually use his superior size to overwhelm and corner me. Nearly every time these fights would happen after he felt that he had properly attacked me. I would go crying in my bruised and bloody state to my parents, but my crying never really worked. Their punishments for him were nonexistent, and many times the fact that I fought back was used as a reason for the both of us to be punished. The majority of times my parents (my mother) would believe my brother that I was making it all up. You think that the bruises would be more than enough evidence, but alas, it was not. 

Over the years, my brother's attacks evolved. This mainly was caused by the inconceivably stupid idea to enroll both my brother and me into martial arts classes. Now think about that for a second with the context that my brother has anger issues and took them out on me. My parent had me and “A FUCKING CHILD WITH ANGER ISSUES LEARNS MARTIAL ARTS!" My brother went from bludgeoning to precise kicks and punches. I did also get the training but was never as good as he was, like everything in life. Then after a while it evolved to what it is now: a focus on choking me and using his weight to pin me. (That's how they managed to pin me down and violate me.) On multiple occasions I nearly fully passed out from lack of air due to his actions.

Mental Pain:
Going from physical to psychological pain, I’d like to clarify, as some of you asked about the surgeries I was forced into. There were 4 surgeries. 3 were on my forehead, which has resulted in a circle-indent-shaped scar. I try to hide them the best I can by always wearing a hat. It looks worse because I also have severe acne scarring as well. The scars lower my self-esteem to the negatives. The 4th surgery was another pain-management surgery that didn’t work, just not on my head. The second, third, & fourth surgeries were done despite my protest and rejection. They did force me to do these surgeries by driving me there and forcing me to sign or just forging my name. 

For all your information, this is the same place I nearly had the operation on my back that would have possibly paralyzed me. I’ve mentioned in a previous post that my parents forged my name and lied to the doctor. They had planned to have an operation done on my back that I repeatedly refused due to the high likelihood of failure and major complications. I only figured it out the day before the pre-operation checkup a few weeks before the surgery. I had to threaten to expose their forging and lying for them to stop. 

Depression sucks. I take antidepressants, but it’s too small a dose. Every time I tried to get a larger dose, my parents blew it out of proportion and took me to my psychiatrist. This psychiatrist would agree with anything they said and told me that I could pray my problems away. So I have to be under-medicated for clinical depression. :3 Yay, just what I need even less help with my depression.

Despair is a horrible state that I find myself in time and time again. My problems, big and small, only worsen as life continues. I have to face all my problems while feeling helpless to broader issues in modern life. I have to suffer so much pain while rich pedophiles are only getting richer and never facing consequences. My problems seem insignificant in the face of depravity. Yet I still despair over my suffering. The never-ending mental, physical, and verbal abuse is a backdrop to my rather bleak belief in the future. 

Escaping: 
I’m really sorry I can’t give you all a good update in regard to escaping. Nothing really has changed. My mom is still incredibly creepy and gross to me. No luck finding any information about my 529 account. I’ve just had to put my head down for the time being and work. Dealing with my mom's bipolar-esque mood shifts to the best of my abilities. (Note: My mom is undiagnosed but heavily implied to have severe OCD.)

I’m pretty hard on myself when it comes to everything. It probably comes from how I was never good enough for my parents and therefore myself. Since I was young, they had very high expectations of me, as they were very successful in their own fields. They had expectations for sports and academics that, if not met, would usually result in disappointment and backhanded encouragement. In contrast, my brother would be praised for his excellence and encouraged consistently. After a while I inadvertently mentally reinforced that anything I did was never good enough. Granted, my own actions and accomplishments really reinforced it, like my very average SAT score and GPA. 

I've never been good at anything. And anytime I would find something that I was potentially good at, I would be discouraged or ridiculed for my interest. All this has led me to have a very, very low sense of self-worth and self-esteem. “I always could be better.” “Why try if I’m just going to fail?" “A failure that is never good enough.” 

Not being loved for such a long time sucks. Knowing that all the affection you remember as a child was either manipulation or was just fake. I just want to feel loved. I need to cry in somebody’s arms and feel safe. I want to be somebody’s good girl. I want to make up for all the times I was never loved. I wish to live out my lesbian dreams before I die. Because I just don’t want to die alone. Before my life ends I want to experience true love & compassion. 

I want to be a girl so bad. I know people both say that they have one just because I say so, but my stupid brain has an impossible time trying to accept that. Every day I regret ever coming out to my parents because it made things so much worse. All my parents have done with it is just act incredibly creepy towards me and threaten to out me to my brother and members of my small town. I never get to act how I want, so I always feel fake. Being stuck with them has just made the dysphoria so much worse. I hate my body. It just makes me want to tear off my skin. I feel so trapped by my situation, stuck in the home with a family that doesn’t love me, in the body that I hate, as somebody that I am not. I want to be accepted as who I am. I want to be pretty. I want to be loved. 

Being touch starved for me is weird. I desperately need a hug and to be loved. But I also am scared of people touching and hurting me. Maybe it’s from years of physical attacks by my brother. Or maybe it’s trauma from being molested. Most likely it’s both. I really need a hug or just physical contact to feel grounded and not alone. It’s been literal months since I have been touched consensually.

(TLDR) 
My body is in constant excruciating pain with no feasible end. I reflect on my younger brother's physical/sexual attacks. I continue to struggle to mentally deal with my fucked up childhood. My depression is worsening due to the current state of the world combined with my situation. I’m really mentally and physically broken right now, as no progress regarding leaving my parents has been made. Dysphoria is mentally kicking my ass. Life just keeps getting worse.

If you have any advice, it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life, and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Love Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. Probably my longest ever. TLDR included:3 

As I long for the past I realize the the past I remember is but an illusion made by rose tinted glasses. The real good times were very few and far between and what I thought good memories take whole new deeply disturbing meanings. I cry at anything that reminds me of my childhood as I know I’ll never get it back. Years of my life ruined and destroyed. As all the other years were filled with social isolation and doctors appointments. But yet I still yearn for it back. Before I realized I was being molested. Before I knew of my body degradation. Before I had everything taken away.

Writing these houses will be a big challenge as it’s very hard to truly encompass my feelings and experiences into words. There’s so much I wanna say, but I don't have the literary know-how to express it. It’s hardest to describe the pain I go through because it’s me equating other things to express the physical for that I’m going through. As we all don’t share the same experiences it’s impossible to truly explain fully the pain I feel. Yet every week I try to the word would be experiences I have. Giving you all a window into my life or rather my sad excuse for one.

Grief and despair are words I seldom use, but I feel they are the perfect words to describe my current physical state. I am a 6ft 1in twink whose body is literally tearing apart. My ligaments and connective tissue are so weak I’m not able to maintain any form of muscle. Because of this weakness of ligaments my back is perpetually in pain. Every waking second I feel a ripping and tearing pain throughout my body. To get back to the point. I find myself going through the stages of grief every few weeks. Grieving the decline of my physical health and ability. Feeling a pit of despair as I face the harsh realities of my current predicament. The crushing feeling that spite all the hard work I’ll do. I’ll never be equivalent to my peers.

I always tried to hide my disabilities as I knew that if people knew about it, they could take advantage of it. My brother was one of those people. Him being the lucky son of a bitch he has got all the good genetics in my family and took full advantage of it. He knew that he had superior strength and physical ability. He used that fact as the BASIS for me being the equivalent to a human punching bag for him. Countless amounts of times he would attack me with brutal force. I tried to defend myself, but 99 times out of 100 I got overpowered and pummeled. Did I fight back? Of course I did though I had to fight dirty to even hope to defend myself. He would usually use his superior size to overwhelm and corner me. So I regrettably had to use my own nails as a weapon. Nearly every time these fights would happen after he felt that he had properly attacked me. I would go crying in my bruised and bloody state to my parents, but my crying never really worked. They’re punishments for him were nonexistent and many times the fact that I fought Mac Wish used as a reason for the both of us to be punished. The majority of times my parents (my mother) would believe my brother that I was making it all up. You think that the bruises would be more than enough evidence, but alas, it was not. 

Over the years, my brother's attacks evolved. This mainly was caused by the inconceivably stupid idea to enroll both my brother and I into martial arts classes. This was not your run-of-the-mill martial arts school, it was run by a former backup member for the American Olympic team. (for privacy reasons I am not disclosing what martial art). Now think about that for a second with the context that my brother has anger issues and took them out on me. My parent had me and A FUCKING CHILD WITH ANGER ISSUES LEARN MARTIAL ARTS. My brother went from bludgeoning with punches to precise kicks and punches. I did also get the training but was never as good as he was like everything in life. Then after a while it evolved to what it is now a focus on choking me and using his wait to pin me. (That's how they managed to pin me down and violate me.) On multiple occasions I nearly fully passed out from lack of air due to his actions.

Going from physical to psychological pain I’d like to clarify as some of you asked about the surgeries I was forced into. There were 4 surgeries. 3 were on my forehead which have resulted in a circle indent shaped scar. I try to hide them the best I can by always wearing a hat. It looks worse because I also have severe acne scarring as well. The scars lower my self esteem to the negatives. The 4th surgery was another  pain-management surgery that didn’t work just not on my head. The second, third, & fourth surgery were done despite my protest and rejection. They did force me to do these surgery by driving me there and forcing me to sign or just forging my name. 

For all your information this is the same place I nearly had the operation on my back that would have possibly paralyzed me. I’ve mentioned in a previous post that my parents forged my name and lied to the doctor. They had planned to have an operation done on my back that I repeatedly refused due to the high likelihood of failure and major complications. I only figured it out the day before the pre operation checkup a few weeks before the surgery. I had to threaten to expose them forging and lying for them to stop. 

Depression sucks. I take anti depressants but it’s too small of a dose. Every time I tried to get a larger dose my parents blew it out of proportion and took me to my psychiatrist. This psychiatrist would agree with anything they said and told me that I could pray my problems away. So I have to be under medicated with clinical depression. :3 yay just what I need even less help with my depression.

Despair is a horrible state that I find myself in time and time again. My problems big and small only worsen as life continues. I have to face all my problems while feeling helpless to broader issues in modern life. I have to suffer so much pain while rich pedophiles are only getting richer and never facing consequences. My problems seem insignificant in the face of depravity. Yet I still despair over my suffering. The never ending mental, physical, and verbal abuse is a backdrop to my rather bleak belief in the future. 

I’m really sorry I can’t give you all a good update in regards to escaping. Nothing really has changed. My moms still incredibly creepy and gross to me. No luck finding any information about my 529 account. I’ve just had to put my head down for the time being and work. Dealing with my moms bipolar esc mood shifts to the best of my abilities. (Note my mom is undiagnosed but heavily implied to have severe OCD)

I’m pretty hard on myself when it comes to everything. It probably comes from how I was never good enough for my parents and therefore myself. Since I was young, they had very high expectations of me as they were very successful in their own fields. They had expectations for sports in academics that if not meant would usually result in disappointment and backhanded encouragement. In contrast, my brother would be praised for his excellence and encouraged consistently. After a while I inadvertently mentally reinforced anything I did was never good enough. Granted my own action and accomplishments really reinforced it as my very average sat score and gpa. 

I've never been good at anything. And anytime I would find something that I was potentially good at it would discourage or ridiculed for my interest. All this has lead me to have a very very low sense of self worth and self esteem. “I always could be better.” “Why try if I’m just going to fail." “A failure that is never good enough.” 

Not being loved for such a long time sucks. Knowing that all the affection you remember as a child was either manipulation or was just fake. I just want to feel loved. I need to cry in somebody’s arms and feel safe. I want to be somebody’s good girl. I want to make up for all the times I was never loved. I wish to live out my lesbian dreams before I die. Because I just don’t want to die alone. Before my life ends I want to experience true love & compassion. 

I want to be a girl so bad. I know people both say that they have one just because I say so, but my stupid brain has an impossible time trying to accept that. Every day I regret ever coming out to my parents because it made things so much worse. All my parents have done with it is just act incredibly creepy towards me and threatened to out me to my brother and members of my small town. Never get to act how I want so I always feel fake. Being stuck with them has just made the dysphoria so much worse.

I hate my body so much for so many reasons. Dysphoria just makes me want to tear off my skin. It feels so trapped by my situation stuck in the home with a family that doesn’t love me in the body that I hate as somebody that I am not. I want to be accepted as somebody that I am. I want to be pretty. I want to be loved. 

Being touch starved for me is weird. I desperately need a hug and loved. But I also am scared of people touching and hurting me. Maybe it’s from years of physical attacks by my brother. Or maybe it’s trauma from being molested. Most likely it’s both. I really need a hug or just physical contact to feel grounded and not alone. It’s been liberal month since I have been touched consensually

This world sucks right now. The economy is about to collapse due to the greeed of bomber and billionaire elites. Trans people are having their rights taken in many US states. A full on surveillance state is taking over the entire USA. The earth is dying from pollution from coal and oil production. Yet nobody stops them as they point the blame to us plebeians while they cause irreparable harm to the earth in pursuit of greed. Genuine empathy has been destroyed by deliberate manipulation by groups to turn anything serious into a joke so no true discourse may happen. Evil rich pedos are running free because of there wealth and status. I constantly worry about this stuff while also worrying about my current situation.

Way To Long Didn’t Read (WTLDR) 

My body is in constant excruciating pain with no feasible end. I reflect on my younger brother physically/s\*xual attacks. I continue to struggle to mentally deal with the my fucked up childhood. My depression is worsening due to the current state of the world combined with my situation. I’m really mentally and physically broken right now as no progress regarding leaving my parents has been made. Dysphoria is mentally kicking my ass. Life just keeps getting worse.

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Love Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. Probably my longest ever. TLDR included:3 

As I long for the past I realize the the past I remember is but an illusion made by rose tinted glasses. The real good times were very few and far between and what I thought good memories take whole new deeply disturbing meanings. I cry at anything that reminds me of my childhood as I know I’ll never get it back. Years of my life ruined and destroyed. As all the other years were filled with social isolation and doctors appointments. But yet I still yearn for it back. Before I realized I was being molested. Before I knew of my body degradation. Before I had everything taken away.

Writing these houses will be a big challenge as it’s very hard to truly encompass my feelings and experiences into words. There’s so much I wanna say, but I don't have the literary know-how to express it. It’s hardest to describe the pain I go through because it’s me equating other things to express the physical for that I’m going through. As we all don’t share the same experiences it’s impossible to truly explain fully the pain I feel. Yet every week I try to the word would be experiences I have. Giving you all a window into my life or rather my sad excuse for one.

Grief and despair are words I seldom use, but I feel they are the perfect words to describe my current physical state. I am a 6ft 1in twink whose body is literally tearing apart. My ligaments and connective tissue are so weak I’m not able to maintain any form of muscle. Because of this weakness of ligaments my back is perpetually in pain. Every waking second I feel a ripping and tearing pain throughout my body. To get back to the point. I find myself going through the stages of grief every few weeks. Grieving the decline of my physical health and ability. Feeling a pit of despair as I face the harsh realities of my current predicament. The crushing feeling that spite all the hard work I’ll do. I’ll never be equivalent to my peers.

I always tried to hide my disabilities as I knew that if people knew about it, they could take advantage of it. My brother was one of those people. Him being the lucky son of a bitch he has got all the good genetics in my family and took full advantage of it. He knew that he had superior strength and physical ability. He used that fact as the BASIS for me being the equivalent to a human punching bag for him. Countless amounts of times he would attack me with brutal force. I tried to defend myself, but 99 times out of 100 I got overpowered and pummeled. Did I fight back? Of course I did though I had to fight dirty to even hope to defend myself. He would usually use his superior size to overwhelm and corner me. So I regrettably had to use my own nails as a weapon. Nearly every time these fights would happen after he felt that he had properly attacked me. I would go crying in my bruised and bloody state to my parents, but my crying never really worked. They’re punishments for him were nonexistent and many times the fact that I fought Mac Wish used as a reason for the both of us to be punished. The majority of times my parents (my mother) would believe my brother that I was making it all up. You think that the bruises would be more than enough evidence, but alas, it was not. 

Over the years, my brother's attacks evolved. This mainly was caused by the inconceivably stupid idea to enroll both my brother and I into martial arts classes. This was not your run-of-the-mill martial arts school, it was run by a former backup member for the American Olympic team. (for privacy reasons I am not disclosing what martial art). Now think about that for a second with the context that my brother has anger issues and took them out on me. My parent had me and A FUCKING CHILD WITH ANGER ISSUES LEARN MARTIAL ARTS. My brother went from bludgeoning with punches to precise kicks and punches. I did also get the training but was never as good as he was like everything in life. Then after a while it evolved to what it is now a focus on choking me and using his wait to pin me. (That's how they managed to pin me down and violate me.) On multiple occasions I nearly fully passed out from lack of air due to his actions.

Going from physical to psychological pain I’d like to clarify as some of you asked about the surgeries I was forced into. There were 4 surgeries. 3 were on my forehead which have resulted in a circle indent shaped scar. I try to hide them the best I can by always wearing a hat. It looks worse because I also have severe acne scarring as well. The scars lower my self esteem to the negatives. The 4th surgery was another  pain-management surgery that didn’t work just not on my head. The second, third, & fourth surgery were done despite my protest and rejection. They did force me to do these surgery by driving me there and forcing me to sign or just forging my name. 

For all your information this is the same place I nearly had the operation on my back that would have possibly paralyzed me. I’ve mentioned in a previous post that my parents forged my name and lied to the doctor. They had planned to have an operation done on my back that I repeatedly refused due to the high likelihood of failure and major complications. I only figured it out the day before the pre operation checkup a few weeks before the surgery. I had to threaten to expose them forging and lying for them to stop. 

Depression sucks. I take anti depressants but it’s too small of a dose. Every time I tried to get a larger dose my parents blew it out of proportion and took me to my psychiatrist. This psychiatrist would agree with anything they said and told me that I could pray my problems away. So I have to be under medicated with clinical depression. :3 yay just what I need even less help with my depression.

Despair is a horrible state that I find myself in time and time again. My problems big and small only worsen as life continues. I have to face all my problems while feeling helpless to broader issues in modern life. I have to suffer so much pain while rich pedophiles are only getting richer and never facing consequences. My problems seem insignificant in the face of depravity. Yet I still despair over my suffering. The never ending mental, physical, and verbal abuse is a backdrop to my rather bleak belief in the future. 

I’m really sorry I can’t give you all a good update in regards to escaping. Nothing really has changed. My moms still incredibly creepy and gross to me. No luck finding any information about my 529 account. I’ve just had to put my head down for the time being and work. Dealing with my moms bipolar esc mood shifts to the best of my abilities. (Note my mom is undiagnosed but heavily implied to have severe OCD)

I’m pretty hard on myself when it comes to everything. It probably comes from how I was never good enough for my parents and therefore myself. Since I was young, they had very high expectations of me as they were very successful in their own fields. They had expectations for sports in academics that if not meant would usually result in disappointment and backhanded encouragement. In contrast, my brother would be praised for his excellence and encouraged consistently. After a while I inadvertently mentally reinforced anything I did was never good enough. Granted my own action and accomplishments really reinforced it as my very average sat score and gpa. 

I've never been good at anything. And anytime I would find something that I was potentially good at it would discourage or ridiculed for my interest. All this has lead me to have a very very low sense of self worth and self esteem. “I always could be better.” “Why try if I’m just going to fail." “A failure that is never good enough.” 

Not being loved for such a long time sucks. Knowing that all the affection you remember as a child was either manipulation or was just fake. I just want to feel loved. I need to cry in somebody’s arms and feel safe. I want to be somebody’s good girl. I want to make up for all the times I was never loved. I wish to live out my lesbian dreams before I die. Because I just don’t want to die alone. Before my life ends I want to experience true love & compassion. 

I want to be a girl so bad. I know people both say that they have one just because I say so, but my stupid brain has an impossible time trying to accept that. Every day I regret ever coming out to my parents because it made things so much worse. All my parents have done with it is just act incredibly creepy towards me and threatened to out me to my brother and members of my small town. Never get to act how I want so I always feel fake. Being stuck with them has just made the dysphoria so much worse.

I hate my body so much for so many reasons. Dysphoria just makes me want to tear off my skin. It feels so trapped by my situation stuck in the home with a family that doesn’t love me in the body that I hate as somebody that I am not. I want to be accepted as somebody that I am. I want to be pretty. I want to be loved. 

Being touch starved for me is weird. I desperately need a hug and loved. But I also am scared of people touching and hurting me. Maybe it’s from years of physical attacks by my brother. Or maybe it’s trauma from being molested. Most likely it’s both. I really need a hug or just physical contact to feel grounded and not alone. It’s been liberal month since I have been touched consensually

This world sucks right now. The economy is about to collapse due to the greeed of bomber and billionaire elites. Trans people are having their rights taken in many US states. A full on surveillance state is taking over the entire USA. The earth is dying from pollution from coal and oil production. Yet nobody stops them as they point the blame to us plebeians while they cause irreparable harm to the earth in pursuit of greed. Genuine empathy has been destroyed by deliberate manipulation by groups to turn anything serious into a joke so no true discourse may happen. Evil rich pedos are running free because of there wealth and status. I constantly worry about this stuff while also worrying about my current situation.

Way To Long Didn’t Read (WTLDR) 

My body is in constant excruciating pain with no feasible end. I reflect on my younger brother physically/s*xual attacks. I continue to struggle to mentally deal with the my fucked up childhood. My depression is worsening due to the current state of the world combined with my situation. I’m really mentally and physically broken right now as no progress regarding leaving my parents has been made. Dysphoria is mentally kicking my ass. Life just keeps getting worse.

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Love Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

I hate myself. I hate what I have become. A husk broken dreams hosting nothing but pain and regret. While I struggle to sleep, I can’t help but think of my regrets and a life that could’ve been. Above all I hate my body. This cursed vessel of flesh I am bonded to reside in. A body slowly dying and falling apart right in front of me. The forsaken vessel that curses me to never truly know a moment without pain. I know I shouldn’t! But my nonexistent self esteem and sense of self worth combined with years of ridicule and abuse has made it impossible to actually value myself. I’m an unlovable freak crippled who wishes they were a woman. Haven’t I suffered enough? Can I suffer no longer? 

Mental:
It would be so easy to just kill myself. Free myself from the cruel reality. I’d not have to stay at night thrashing from pain. I’d never have to be hurt by my family. I'd never have to cry so much I get sick from the amount of crying. I’d quite simply be free. But I stop myself out of a sense of cowardice or I can’t bear to hurt the people that I love. I still feel as though it is an affront to those I care about that I even think about it. As I value my friends (that includes you all) more than anything in the world, they are the only people I have. I just wish the pain had a way to go away. 

As you’d expect from a person like me I’m very depressed. Sadness seems to just come with my life like a care package. With it being me I can’t be depressed over one thing it’s over a dozen piping hot depression makers. Here some of what makes me depressed in no particular order:
My declining health

The future of the world

Being nothing after death 

Never truly finding love 

The fact that even after everything I was still never good enough for my parents 

That evil people can get away with horrible crimes because of money

No remembering me after I die

Knowing I’m going to die young

The fact that I’ll never live up to the standards of a younger me.

The fact that I’ll never be able achieve any of my dreams  

Being broke

That all the people who were supposed to love me never did

When I have depressive episodes (at least once everyday) I think all about that stuff. 

Escape:
Escaping seems to be like a further and further away possibility as life seems to ruin and worsen my current situation. I am currently desperately trying to figure out a method of procuring my 529 from my parents. But my complete lack of knowledge regarding it has been a major road block. I’m still working but due to the shitty economy I’m not making that much. 
Here’s all I know: 
The money is for me

There is some person or entity that my parents will not disclose who is incharge of approving claims

My name is on it somewhere (supposedly as the custodian)

If anybody knows anything to do with 529 accounts I’d greatly appreciate it. For now I keep having panic attacks over trying to figure out how I can escape. I WANT TO BE FREE. 

Family/Abuse:
Today’s Example of How Crazy my parents are on the regular: Screaming is my worst trauma trigger I experienced. Well, this week has been full of screaming and yelling so it’s been completely horrible. Ten minutes before writing this part I was screamed at from behind a locked door as it was pounded on which was utterly terrifying. Who was it and what was the reason? My mom and I were taking too long in the shower and my brother wants to take a shower now. Sounds semi reasonable maybe aside from screaming and pounding on the door. Except there are multiple showers in the house! I guess the golden child needs his preferred shower?

There are a few certainties in this world: life, death, and my mom being a creep. Yup that’s right she’s at it again. Inappropriate questions, unprompted touching, and manipulation my mom has done it all. She’s constantly trying to get physically close to me and yet never respects any of my boundaries. Boundaries are more of a suggestion to my mom. 

I really really really regret even coming out to my mom as trans. Since she uses it as leverage against me. She also uses it to make really inappropriate and rude remarks about me. She’s incredibly bigoted/racist but it only comes out behind closed doors. She publicly stated that she a progressive ally but behind closed doors she completely switches up. But she does recognize her own bigotry or racism. It's one of the best examples of how she is so double sided and manipulative. 

Physical pain:
For the last three weeks, my physical pain has been worsening. But not in the normal way. See normally my chronic pain increases at a steady rate with occasional spikes of extreme pain. But now my pain has exponentially increased in severity. It's getting harder to do the things I love. I love exploring the woods in my local area finding old abandoned structures and free climbing up them. It's one of the ways I use to get out of the house. Everytime i do it I push my body way too hard and end up nearly passing out in the middle of nowhere. I do it a lot since I know soon I won't be able to anymore. 

Dysphoria:
It is hard to describe dysphoria to somebody who has never had it. Dysphoria like every in this world is different for everybody with a few commonalities. These are commonalities; a sense of extreme discomfort, one's appearance, feeling of being stuck in the wrong body, and the general sense of unease over one’s body. But it can vary in severity. I just wanted to share the general definition of the feeling so I can truly express how dysphoric I am.

I hate my body. Every square inch is disgusting to me. I know I’m being harsh but this is how I truly feel. I’m covered with scars since my body is weak. It scars at any kind of cut. My parents forced me to have 3 procedures that involved injection in my upper forehead. The surgeries never worked and left major scarring all over my forehead. I’m so dysphoric and hate it so much I cover it up with hats constantly. I hate how much of a crippled scar covered twink I am. 

I sadly didn’t get to celebrate pride this year like last year and the year before. I hope you all have had wonderful pride. I’m sadly very much alone for this pride that I’ve always been. I get it. I'm crippled depressed trans girl who has no self worth who has a very close expiration date. I do want to just feel the loving embrace of someone once. Familial or romantic I just want to feel cared for and actually loved. That love that I wasn’t good enough to get from my parents. I just want to know I matter.

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may not be here someday. :3

Love Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m so sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be longest post I’ve ever made. :3

I failed! I didn’t escape before the trip. I was forced on the trip and it was worse than anticipated. It was hellish. 24/7 with the people I hate most in the world. I was stuck in a room by myself with my brother who tried rape me. Stuck hundreds of miles away from any person who cared for me and my safety. I hate being stuck with these people that barely respect me as a human. The same people that would gladly abandon me the first chance they get. Having to constantly be around them with no personal space or respect for my autonomy.

How it all went wrong. I learned I didn't have custody of my 529 account (I previously miss labeled it as a W-5 but it is a 529). My parents lied, they never gave me full access as they said they did. So in basic terms they have all of my college savings. I have no way to pay for college without that because my savings account is barely enough to buy a used car. So I'm forced to stay in their bipolar ever changing good graces to be able to go to college. If you all have any suggestions on how I could get custody of that account I would greatly appreciate it.

The pain has gotten harder to bear. My Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (EDS) has made me a shell of a person.
It makes me heal extremely slowly. Literally everything scars me now. Extreme joint pain with ripping of my muscles because of the weakness of joints and tissues. Constant pain that makes sleep difficult/impossible. Reduces ability to grow muscle making me feel weak and pathetic. Heart problems that make my heart always race. I hate it so much it makes me feel like everything moment is hell. I wish for a cure that will not come. I wish I could go back and do the things I can’t do now. 

I don’t want to but I’m scared of dying because I know deep down that I’m dying already. My time is short. Shorter than what most people get. I know even if I live longer than I imagine I will be in excruciating pain all the same. I’ve predicted that I’ll be unable to walk in 5 to 10 years based on my current condition. My biggest fear is dying alone unfulfilled. To die without being able to transition and be my true self. To die before I could escape the clutches of my parents. To die without knowing what familial & romantic love feels like. To die without understanding why I was here just to suffer. 

Have you ever felt your dreams get crushed? Your goals taken from you made impossible by fate itself. I have and it is a devastating feeling. I’ve talked about it before but I have had a lot of things taken from me by this cruel reality we call home. One of my dreams was to be a professional golfer. I know tacky but still it was my dream. I was forced to quit by my parents and my doctor since I physically couldn’t play it anymore. My dream was crushed in an instant. Another dream of mine was to be able to be stronger than my brother so he couldn’t hurt me. Guess how that went. I’m scared of dreaming or having goals as they seem to always be taken from me.

I would like to see myself as a logical person but the sheer amount of misfortune that occurred to me has me sometimes wondering if I’m cursed. I’ve always held suspicions of an abnormal amount of unlucky things happening to me. Something’s I could explain away as pure coincidence or clumsiness but it gets to a point where it becomes apparent that something is up. Like every time something is going good in my life terrible things will happen. Like how every time I make any sort of effort to progress on my escaping from my parents things keep going horribly wrong.

I know I won’t kill myself but I find it impossible not to think about doing it. One final failure to end it all. A final mercy for myself to end my own suffering. I’d never have to feel the pain again. I’d never have to fear being raped or assaulted. I’d finally know the peace of being without pain for the first time. But alas I cannot from either cowardice, hope, or love I cannot let myself. I know one day my suffering may end but I may not know the hour but I take solace that it will come.

Dysphoria is a hell of a feeling. It has gotten to the point that I’ll have bouts of dysphoria where “my” skin feels icky and wrong. A feeling of the skin not truly being my own. Why couldn’t I just have been born differently? Why did I have to be born as this freak? I just wanted to be a girl! I want to start my hrt! But no, now I have to be stuck in this hellish situation where everything seems to want me to fail. 

Happy pride! Idk if I have ever talked about it but I desperately want to be a lesbian. But everything about that seems impossible. I haven’t transitioned. I’ve never dated nor had a partner. I so desperately want to feel loved. I want to know what it’s like so bad. I want to know the joy of being loved. I just want to know what it’s liked to be touched without the fear of being hurt or violated!

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other because I may no be here someday. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

I'm panicking, the clock is ticking down and I’m terrified of what's to come. My preparations are not where I would like them to be. More and more I’m scared of who will take my side with how manipulative my parents have been. A few friends of mine are helping format the evidence that I’ve collected. After we are done a friend of mine is friends with a local police officer. I’m also nervous about the police investigation because of my history with their nonsubtle manner of investigation. Things are getting far too real and I’m incredibly terrified especially about losing people. 

I’m trying to buy myself some more time by not going on the family vacation my parents have planned. It isn’t going so well as my parents argue that it’s a family trip and everyone has to go. I’ve tried every way I could think of but nothing seems to work. They said they would rather have me drop my college class than not go on the trip. I've repeatedly told them to respect my wishes for once and let me stay home to work. If you have any suggestions it would be greatly appreciated. (I'm going to push the angle of me being an adult more) 

In some more sad news my parents still retain custody of my 529 (aka all my college savings) as it was not automatically transferred to my full custody when I was 18. So I'm only a custodian and not the full owner of the account. So unless I can sue for full custody I have no savings for college. 

The stress of all of this has been extremely detrimental for my mental health. I feel so alone in this as with school being out I have no adult to reach out without the risk of my parents sneaking their way into the conversation. Things seem to only be getting worse and more nerve racking. My heart is constantly pounding like a drum in my ears constantly from stress. 

I had my first ever dream where I was called a girl and correctly gendered and it made waking & just this week in general feel like a nightmare. I want to go back to the dream world where I’m loved and accepted. Dreaming may be the only place I’m truly happy and loved. 

If you have any advice it would be greatly appreciated. This is genuinely the most stressful moment of my life and any tip or suggestions would go a long way. Thank you all for all that you do.

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)

Hey all you lovely people it’s me Eggwantingtocrack. Your favorite cosmic joke of a person, chronically ill, depressed, touch starved, abused trans girl. I’m sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Sorry it’s going to be very long. :3

I am so overwhelmed and confused. I’ve reached a crossroads, and I don’t know which way I should go. Neither answer is fully right nor wrong. One plan of self sacrifice, where I ignore the past actions of those who have been horrifically wrong to me. Continuing a path that was set out for me. Two the path where in which lies my freedom yet also my struggle. Sacrificing financial and physical security in an attempt of my own freedom. 

I’m really scared my parents have curated a perfect reputation with nearly everybody that I know. I have a hard time believing that anyone could truly come to accept their double sided nature. I graduated high school yesterday and I couldn’t help but notice how happy my parents were acting as if they hadn’t just yesterday been screaming words I would dare utter. It seems like everything is going well for everyone except me in my family and me not accepting the abuse causes more struggles. I’m scared of losing my grandparents as they are the only family that ever really loved me.

I’m scared nobody will believe me because of my parents reputation. I mean my parents used it to their advantage when I reported them to the police 4 years ago. Convince the police I was “retarded” “did know what I was doing” “thought it was like writing a letter to Santa Claus” (real quotes by them to the police). The police believed them. I’m scared they would just manipulate the police again. Aside my small town police department doesn’t have a good track record with child abuse. 

Also, as I've been thinking about it, would a lawyer be useful in this situation? 

I talked to a counselor and they suggested I should suffer through it until I have enough money but I can’t take the mental pain anymore. He is right as I do need more money and money takes time. I don’t have that much time since my family has a planned vacation on May 28. If anyone has any ideas of how I can avoid this vacation it is greatly appreciated. 

My physical pain has been worse than ever. I have developed more ripping scars on my back making it even more painful to move. The constant pain has made sleep difficult and hard to come by. I’m also hobbling way more frequently than I used to as running becomes more painful. 

Dysphoria has been extra rough this last week as I’ve been consistently having extreme bouts of self hate throughout the week. I desperately want to leave this gross ugly disgusting body I must persist in. I hate faking who I am constantly to appease my parents and my peers. I just want to be a girl. I want pretty.

I’ve been so depressed I can stand living some time with how stressed and horrible life is. I have a hard time finding reasons to keep going any more. I’m going to die young anyway because of my medical issues. Was I just destined to suffer. Would anyone truly miss me when I’m gone. Will I be remembered even 10 years after my death. Will I just end up as a tragic tale to be forgotten.

Most of all I’ve been really lonely this week. I just really want to hug or be hugged by someone. To cry on somebody's shoulder. To feel loved. To know that everything‘s gonna be all right. Or just to be shown basic forms of affection. God I just wanna be loved.

If you have any advice it is greatly appreciated as I desperately need it. 

Thank you for commenting. It means the world to me. I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day. Please love each other. :3

Sincerely Egg (The dying crippled trans girl)