THE gender bender

@snail-offical @small-bottle-of-expired-milk @days-without-ai-ads-offical @do-not-u-dare @costco-offical @null-the-void-monarch-offical @chickfila-offical @sapphic-offical @7-eleven-offical

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@gruz-mothers-official

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Tagging people who (I think) showed interest in joining: @sans-the-skeleconch-offical @samthehuman565 @cornstarch-official

Tagging people who (I think) showed interest in joining: @sans-the-skeleconch-offical @samthehuman565 @cornstarch-official

i'm in high school. people are talking about their futures. where they're going to college, what job they're going to get, how they're going to get there, when they're going to get there. so many people already know where they're going. so many people are already making money. so many people seem so stable in their lives right now to be so confident about what they're moving towards.

but me? i've never felt any younger. i don't know where i'm going to college. i haven't thought about it. the notion of growing up makes me cry. in fact, the idea of going to college seems so impossible. i still don't believe i'm going to make it past eighteen. nineteen if i'm lucky. i can't live by myself. i can't live with myself. all i've been doing my entire life is leeching off my family and friends. i've never lived before. i've just been surviving by clinging onto ignorance and holding onto my mom's hand, disregarding the fact that one day i have to let go. but i can't. i really, really fucking can't. i'm too scared. i don't know how to do anything.

in fact, i only learned how to sleep in my own fucking bed a little less than two years ago. everyone around me has been doing that since they were months old. MONTHS OLD. while everyone else was out on school trips, i was being berated by my parents, thrown and locked into my room, screaming and begging for them to let me sleep next to them because i'm such a fucking coward. i'd panic over everything. i still do. having to shut my eyes in a room where i couldn't access my parents had me shaking from fear. i swore i would die. i swore that if they would leave me alone, that i would be killed. the house was breathing. there were things pressed against the wall that would hurt me. there were footsteps too low and too quiet to be harmless. there were the creeks of floorboards that made me want to claw my skin off. if the doors were closed, there was a chance i would open them to a place that wasn't my house. if the door was open, there was a chance that something unidentifiable would crawl in. i was old enough. old enough to recite the fucking quadratic formula and use it from muscle memory alone, yet almost jumped through the window just to leave my room in hopes that i could circle back to the main entrance of my house and enter my parents bedroom. or die from the fall.

i never went on school trips. i still don't. i still can't. the only one i went on was in 6th grade. i still hadn't learned how to sleep by myself, but my mom was going to chaperone the trip. i ended up panicking by bedtime and having to cry my way to sleeping next to my mother in the room with the other chaperones. i was ashamed. but i was alive. i knew i would have died if i hadn't found her. at least, that's what it felt like.

i can't use a self-checkout. in fact, i can't even shop. it genuinely causes me so much fucking anxiety. the lights, the people, the signs, the interactions, the idea of walking down hallways of hundreds of things, not knowing where to start or what to find, even with a list in my hand. what if i lose my way? even if it's a small store, i don't know the layout. if i take the wrong turn, what if i don't find my way back? what if i grab the wrong thing? what if i scan the wrong thing, and i end up paying more than i need? what if i make a mistake, and people think i'm stealing? what if i get in trouble? because i won't be scolded by a teacher this time--could be behind bars. it's dizzying. it's terrifying. it's embarrassing how pathetic i am.

on top of that, prices. i fucking hate prices. i can read the numbers. yay. is it expensive? is it cheap? is it a scam? is it something i should look out for? should i buy it? should i not? is it worth the money? that seems like a lot... i don't think i should get it? but i kind of need it? or do i? i cannot for the life of me understand the weight of numbers and what they actually mean. i can't gage if a product is more expensive than it should be or more cheap than it usually is. i can't tell if i should buy something or shouldn't buy something based off the price. if you hold a generic item up to me and ask me to estimate what the price is, i quiet literally can't tell you. i know a penny is one cents. i know a nickle is five. i know a quarter is twenty five. i know a dollar is one hundred. that's all. numbers, especially money, scare me for this reason. i'm probably very likely to get scammed or robbed when i'm older BECAUSE OF THIS. that's how bad it is.

i remember my mother once asked me to grab a shopping cart from the entrance of a store while she waited for the workers to mix some paint in a can for her. i couldn't even do that. i knew where the carts were... but i didn't know how to get there. i could physically see them. they couldn't have been more than fifty feet away. but there were self check-outs in between me and the sliding doors. there were people with carts that were moving in a direction that i couldn't predict. from my perspective, i couldn't see the entire pathway on the floor to the sliding doors. i couldn't bare the idea of walking without knowing where to put my feet. so i stayed there. my mom yelled. i almost cried. my dad had to walk all the way from the other side of the store to get the cart because my mom had to call him on the phone. this wasn't that long ago, by the way. maybe a couple months?

i can't cook. i can make scrambled eggs at best, but that is still intimidating. i can't tell what the fire wants, or where it's going to go. what if there's gas leaking and i can't tell? what if i put on the fan to blow away the gas, but i don't wait long enough until i turn the stove back on, and everything bursts into flame? what if i burn something? what if i waste ingredients? what if i ruin pots and pans and plates and utensils? what if something goes horribly wrong, something irreversible, and it's all my fucking fault? all because i'm too much of a baby to figure things out on my own? there's so much to cooking that other people don't realize. how much of something you put in, when you put it in, where you put it in, whether you mix it first before you put it in, if you mix it in a separate container before you put it in, the cooking time differences, the preparation, having to watch and listen and be observant so that everything comes out edible. it's so loud, too. startling.

on top of that, measuring is overwhelming. in fact, i can't do numbers. i can't estimate. i can't tell if something is too much or too little. in weight, or in quantity. i'm going to kill myself on accident one day.

i know 1kg is 2.2 pounds. 2.2 pounds is... light. something like that. therefore 1kg is also light. 200kg is obviously heavy... so is 200 pounds. but what about 15kg? what would that feel like? three pounds... that's light, right? but what about seven? or 45? how long can i carry that? how much does something weigh? i can't hold something and go "oh yeah that's probably 2kg." i can't look at something and go "oh yeah that's probably 30 pounds." i was in the weight room the other day for lifting and i had NO CLUE what to do. is that too heavy for me? is that too light? should i keep going? should i not? what should my goal be? it's so stupid, too. i should be able to do this. but i can't.

an inch is 2.54 centimeters. but what does that look like? that somewhat equals the space between two knuckles. how about a meter? a mile? how far can i walk? is 3km too much? how tall is that building? taller than me, that's all i know. two eggs is two eggs. that's great. that's easy. how many grams is that? is two cups of sugar too much or two little? how much vanilla do you put in something? what's a tablespoon and a teaspoon...? a dash? a pinch? a dollop? how many grams are all of those? does it matter? how many servings does this make? i can't look at something and go "oh yeah that'll probably feed three people." and, on top of that, i can barely feed myself. how much do i eat? what do i feel like eating? can i eat that much? is that not enough for me? maybe i should take more... or maybe that will fill me up too much? what foods make me full? what foods still leave me hungry? i end up taking too much and throwing everything away. i can't bake. i can't cook. i can't remember recipes. i can't logic my way out of mistakes. every instruction is too vague, and there's so much behind each number it overwhelms me. i just do shit and hope it works. i can't keep pulling that off.

people already know how to drive. or are learning how to drive. but me? i hate sitting in the front seat. not only is it too bright, it's too loud. there's too much to see. the drivers seat would be worse. so many buttons, triggers, panels, switches, controls. things flashing in your face. some of them you're supposed to ignore. others you shouldn't. others you can if you want to. how am i supposed to figure out any of that? i can't keep track of all that bullshit. there's so much to that hunk of metal that's just so fucking stupid. it's so stupid. i'm fucking stupid. on top of that, i need to learn how to navigate the road. the signs. the lights. the sounds. the ambulance and police. the laws. the laws that aren't laws but feel like laws anyway. the laws that no one follows and so you're expect to break as well. the laws that aren't talked about but will get you arrested. the rules and regulations that i have to somehow know in a moment of stress. what if i get into a crash? what if i can't communicate with other drivers? what about those bitches who brake check? i'm going to crash. i'm going to die. or even worse, i might accidently hurt or even kill someone. i have to focus on all of that on the outside while also focusing on the inside. oh, and obviously knowing where to go. GPS is annoying, but i'm forgetful. i'm going to take the wrong turn. i'm going to overestimate or underestimate and get myself into legal trouble.

i'm not cut out for this.

don't even get me started on time management. i can't do that at all. priorities don't make sense to me. i don't know what to do first, even if the deadline is screaming at me in the fucking face. i get overwhelmed if i have too much to do. but i always end up having a lot to do because i push things as far back as i can since i'm just so damn exhausted. i'm so tired. i'm so fucking done.

i hate this one so much. how long does it take me to brush my teeth? it should be two minutes. i can't tell how long that is without counting. how long would it take me to do this worksheet? i don't know? an hour? and then i'll only finish it after three hours. how long does it take me to get ready? can i make it out of the door in time? maybe i should give myself some buffer time to make it to my destination... and then i end up thirty minutes early. i schedule too much or too little. i overestimate or underestimate. i can NEVER figure things out like this. an hour is an hour, great. but an hour is also bigger than 30 minutes, which is a lot. so an hour... isn't an hour. it's two 30 minutes. that's more than an hour. or at least, it feels like that to me. and that's not right at all. i can't just go by "feeling" anymore.

the amount of rage and anxiety that numbers give me is absolutely insane. i'm in honors roll classes and am going to get into a lot of APs, but i can't do that if i don't understand basic math. i need logic behind everything, but all the logic just doesn't fit. people say "go with your gut" but my gut tells me that 78 feels bigger than 90.

i could keep going on and on and on and on...

but i need to grow up. i really REALLY need to fucking grow up. i stress over the smallest things. i get anxious over things that aren't even happening. i panic when i don't understand things, and completely give up. i shut down over absolutely everything. i avoid the unavoidable. i can't do anything. i'm a coward, i'm pathetic, and i'll never learn how to grow up. that's the reality of things. i'm too far into my life to be able to get a grasp of how to live before i'm forced into the real world. there's no one who can help me out there. no one who will ever care out there.

no one will know me. i won't be able to know anyone. i can't trust anyone out there. there's no one to stick up for me. there's no one to help me. there's no one who will inherently feel care for me. i'll be a nobody to everyone, because that's who i am. and nobodies can't prove themselves to anyone because guess what? i have no weight in anyone's lives. i can't make an impact because i can't even step out of the house without freezing in fear.

i don't want to give up. but i don't expect to be alive for long enough at this pace. i either give in or give up. i'm going to end up broke, homeless, abused, or something even worse, which will eventually lead to a slow death. it's either that or something quicker, right? i'm too much of a coward to act on that, either. i don't want to. that's the thing. i WANT to live. but i can't. i've passed the point of no return. i learned nothing in my childhood. i regret that. and now i'm going to live the consequences.

i always talk about wanting a lover. but do i want a lover? or someone who just... loves me? who can take care of me? do i want a partner? or a parent? in the end, all i do is take and take and never give. i'll take your generosity. i'll feel guilty, but i won't stop. if i stop, i'll probably die. i don't want to die. but i don't want to be a burden either. i'll expend your hospitality till you hate me. till you realize i'm never getting better. and then you'll leave me. i don't expect you to stay.

because i need to grow up.

and fast.

but i won't. i never will, will i?

posting this is going to get me into so much trouble holy shit.

i'm in high school. people are talking about their futures. where they're going to college, what job they're going to get, how they're going to get there, when they're going to get there. so many people already know where they're going. so many people are already making money. so many people seem so stable in their lives right now to be so confident about what they're moving towards.

but me? i've never felt any younger. i don't know where i'm going to college. i haven't thought about it. the notion of growing up makes me cry. in fact, the idea of going to college seems so impossible. i still don't believe i'm going to make it past eighteen. nineteen if i'm lucky. i can't live by myself. i can't live with myself. all i've been doing my entire life is leeching off my family and friends. i've never lived before. i've just been surviving by clinging onto ignorance and holding onto my mom's hand, disregarding the fact that one day i have to let go. but i can't. i really, really fucking can't. i'm too scared. i don't know how to do anything.

in fact, i only learned how to sleep in my own fucking bed a little less than two years ago. everyone around me has been doing that since they were months old. MONTHS OLD. while everyone else was out on school trips, i was being berated by my parents, thrown and locked into my room, screaming and begging for them to let me sleep next to them because i'm such a fucking coward. i'd panic over everything. i still do. having to shut my eyes in a room where i couldn't access my parents had me shaking from fear. i swore i would die. i swore that if they would leave me alone, that i would be killed. the house was breathing. there were things pressed against the wall that would hurt me. there were footsteps too low and too quiet to be harmless. there were the creeks of floorboards that made me want to claw my skin off. if the doors were closed, there was a chance i would open them to a place that wasn't my house. if the door was open, there was a chance that something unidentifiable would crawl in. i was old enough. old enough to recite the fucking quadratic formula and use it from muscle memory alone, yet almost jumped through the window just to leave my room in hopes that i could circle back to the main entrance of my house and enter my parents bedroom. or die from the fall.

i never went on school trips. i still don't. i still can't. the only one i went on was in 6th grade. i still hadn't learned how to sleep by myself, but my mom was going to chaperone the trip. i ended up panicking by bedtime and having to cry my way to sleeping next to my mother in the room with the other chaperones. i was ashamed. but i was alive. i knew i would have died if i hadn't found her. at least, that's what it felt like.

i can't use a self-checkout. in fact, i can't even shop. it genuinely causes me so much fucking anxiety. the lights, the people, the signs, the interactions, the idea of walking down hallways of hundreds of things, not knowing where to start or what to find, even with a list in my hand. what if i lose my way? even if it's a small store, i don't know the layout. if i take the wrong turn, what if i don't find my way back? what if i grab the wrong thing? what if i scan the wrong thing, and i end up paying more than i need? what if i make a mistake, and people think i'm stealing? what if i get in trouble? because i won't be scolded by a teacher this time--could be behind bars. it's dizzying. it's terrifying. it's embarrassing how pathetic i am.

on top of that, prices. i fucking hate prices. i can read the numbers. yay. is it expensive? is it cheap? is it a scam? is it something i should look out for? should i buy it? should i not? is it worth the money? that seems like a lot... i don't think i should get it? but i kind of need it? or do i? i cannot for the life of me understand the weight of numbers and what they actually mean. i can't gage if a product is more expensive than it should be or more cheap than it usually is. i can't tell if i should buy something or shouldn't buy something based off the price. if you hold a generic item up to me and ask me to estimate what the price is, i quiet literally can't tell you. i know a penny is one cents. i know a nickle is five. i know a quarter is twenty five. i know a dollar is one hundred. that's all. numbers, especially money, scare me for this reason. i'm probably very likely to get scammed or robbed when i'm older BECAUSE OF THIS. that's how bad it is.

i remember my mother once asked me to grab a shopping cart from the entrance of a store while she waited for the workers to mix some paint in a can for her. i couldn't even do that. i knew where the carts were... but i didn't know how to get there. i could physically see them. they couldn't have been more than fifty feet away. but there were self check-outs in between me and the sliding doors. there were people with carts that were moving in a direction that i couldn't predict. from my perspective, i couldn't see the entire pathway on the floor to the sliding doors. i couldn't bare the idea of walking without knowing where to put my feet. so i stayed there. my mom yelled. i almost cried. my dad had to walk all the way from the other side of the store to get the cart because my mom had to call him on the phone. this wasn't that long ago, by the way. maybe a couple months?

i can't cook. i can make scrambled eggs at best, but that is still intimidating. i can't tell what the fire wants, or where it's going to go. what if there's gas leaking and i can't tell? what if i put on the fan to blow away the gas, but i don't wait long enough until i turn the stove back on, and everything bursts into flame? what if i burn something? what if i waste ingredients? what if i ruin pots and pans and plates and utensils? what if something goes horribly wrong, something irreversible, and it's all my fucking fault? all because i'm too much of a baby to figure things out on my own? there's so much to cooking that other people don't realize. how much of something you put in, when you put it in, where you put it in, whether you mix it first before you put it in, if you mix it in a separate container before you put it in, the cooking time differences, the preparation, having to watch and listen and be observant so that everything comes out edible. it's so loud, too. startling.

on top of that, measuring is overwhelming. in fact, i can't do numbers. i can't estimate. i can't tell if something is too much or too little. in weight, or in quantity. i'm going to kill myself on accident one day.

i know 1kg is 2.2 pounds. 2.2 pounds is... light. something like that. therefore 1kg is also light. 200kg is obviously heavy... so is 200 pounds. but what about 15kg? what would that feel like? three pounds... that's light, right? but what about seven? or 45? how long can i carry that? how much does something weigh? i can't hold something and go "oh yeah that's probably 2kg." i can't look at something and go "oh yeah that's probably 30 pounds." i was in the weight room the other day for lifting and i had NO CLUE what to do. is that too heavy for me? is that too light? should i keep going? should i not? what should my goal be? it's so stupid, too. i should be able to do this. but i can't.

an inch is 2.54 centimeters. but what does that look like? that somewhat equals the space between two knuckles. how about a meter? a mile? how far can i walk? is 3km too much? how tall is that building? taller than me, that's all i know. two eggs is two eggs. that's great. that's easy. how many grams is that? is two cups of sugar too much or two little? how much vanilla do you put in something? what's a tablespoon and a teaspoon...? a dash? a pinch? a dollop? how many grams are all of those? does it matter? how many servings does this make? i can't look at something and go "oh yeah that'll probably feed three people." and, on top of that, i can barely feed myself. how much do i eat? what do i feel like eating? can i eat that much? is that not enough for me? maybe i should take more... or maybe that will fill me up too much? what foods make me full? what foods still leave me hungry? i end up taking too much and throwing everything away. i can't bake. i can't cook. i can't remember recipes. i can't logic my way out of mistakes. every instruction is too vague, and there's so much behind each number it overwhelms me. i just do shit and hope it works. i can't keep pulling that off.

people already know how to drive. or are learning how to drive. but me? i hate sitting in the front seat. not only is it too bright, it's too loud. there's too much to see. the drivers seat would be worse. so many buttons, triggers, panels, switches, controls. things flashing in your face. some of them you're supposed to ignore. others you shouldn't. others you can if you want to. how am i supposed to figure out any of that? i can't keep track of all that bullshit. there's so much to that hunk of metal that's just so fucking stupid. it's so stupid. i'm fucking stupid. on top of that, i need to learn how to navigate the road. the signs. the lights. the sounds. the ambulance and police. the laws. the laws that aren't laws but feel like laws anyway. the laws that no one follows and so you're expect to break as well. the laws that aren't talked about but will get you arrested. the rules and regulations that i have to somehow know in a moment of stress. what if i get into a crash? what if i can't communicate with other drivers? what about those bitches who brake check? i'm going to crash. i'm going to die. or even worse, i might accidently hurt or even kill someone. i have to focus on all of that on the outside while also focusing on the inside. oh, and obviously knowing where to go. GPS is annoying, but i'm forgetful. i'm going to take the wrong turn. i'm going to overestimate or underestimate and get myself into legal trouble.

i'm not cut out for this.

don't even get me started on time management. i can't do that at all. priorities don't make sense to me. i don't know what to do first, even if the deadline is screaming at me in the fucking face. i get overwhelmed if i have too much to do. but i always end up having a lot to do because i push things as far back as i can since i'm just so damn exhausted. i'm so tired. i'm so fucking done.

i hate this one so much. how long does it take me to brush my teeth? it should be two minutes. i can't tell how long that is without counting. how long would it take me to do this worksheet? i don't know? an hour? and then i'll only finish it after three hours. how long does it take me to get ready? can i make it out of the door in time? maybe i should give myself some buffer time to make it to my destination... and then i end up thirty minutes early. i schedule too much or too little. i overestimate or underestimate. i can NEVER figure things out like this. an hour is an hour, great. but an hour is also bigger than 30 minutes, which is a lot. so an hour... isn't an hour. it's two 30 minutes. that's more than an hour. or at least, it feels like that to me. and that's not right at all. i can't just go by "feeling" anymore.

the amount of rage and anxiety that numbers give me is absolutely insane. i'm in honors roll classes and am going to get into a lot of APs, but i can't do that if i don't understand basic math. i need logic behind everything, but all the logic just doesn't fit. people say "go with your gut" but my gut tells me that 78 feels bigger than 90.

i could keep going on and on and on and on...

but i need to grow up. i really REALLY need to fucking grow up. i stress over the smallest things. i get anxious over things that aren't even happening. i panic when i don't understand things, and completely give up. i shut down over absolutely everything. i avoid the unavoidable. i can't do anything. i'm a coward, i'm pathetic, and i'll never learn how to grow up. that's the reality of things. i'm too far into my life to be able to get a grasp of how to live before i'm forced into the real world. there's no one who can help me out there. no one who will ever care out there.

no one will know me. i won't be able to know anyone. i can't trust anyone out there. there's no one to stick up for me. there's no one to help me. there's no one who will inherently feel care for me. i'll be a nobody to everyone, because that's who i am. and nobodies can't prove themselves to anyone because guess what? i have no weight in anyone's lives. i can't make an impact because i can't even step out of the house without freezing in fear.

i don't want to give up. but i don't expect to be alive for long enough at this pace. i either give in or give up. i'm going to end up broke, homeless, abused, or something even worse, which will eventually lead to a slow death. it's either that or something quicker, right? i'm too much of a coward to act on that, either. i don't want to. that's the thing. i WANT to live. but i can't. i've passed the point of no return. i learned nothing in my childhood. i regret that. and now i'm going to live the consequences.

i always talk about wanting a lover. but do i want a lover? or someone who just... loves me? who can take care of me? do i want a partner? or a parent? in the end, all i do is take and take and never give. i'll take your generosity. i'll feel guilty, but i won't stop. if i stop, i'll probably die. i don't want to die. but i don't want to be a burden either. i'll expend your hospitality till you hate me. till you realize i'm never getting better. and then you'll leave me. i don't expect you to stay.

because i need to grow up.

and fast.

but i won't. i never will, will i?

posting this is going to get me into so much trouble holy shit.