I uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I've theoretically gained a new lease on life, a spark of hope for the future, but i cannot feel hope in it. right now, all i feel is dread – dread that i won't be able to adapt well enough, that i will remain wretched and miserable even in a whole new environment. i "hope" that moving to a new place where no one knows what i am or my past will allow and make me move on. i *know* that the very possibility is predicated on me passing flawlessly. which i know i don't. i just wanted to be a normal girl, and to grow into a normal woman (or rather, however normal an autist like me could possibly be). i want boring and mushy and soft and cradling. I'm so tired with even the idea of strength, or resilience, or pride. i wanted none of this; my recent "victory" being naught but a concession at best for a life well tortured. i doubt that the victory itself will hold. I'll almost certainly fuck it up. there's so much that can go wrong with international living on one's own. no one will help me. i dream of finding a boyfriend there who sees and loves me as a woman and who helps me establish a life there with him, but alas, i will likely never be perceived as one there. or anywhere. I'm not even a person, how could I possibly masquerade convincingly as the woman i wanted to, or rather, want to be?

every time i try to make new friends, I'm reminded of why i shouldn't. reminded that I'm lesser. incomplete. how i ruin everything by the fact of my presence alone. my envy, jealousy, misery, and bitterness all remain uncontrollable within my heart, no matter what i try. I'm reminded of every failure, every fuckup of mine that has led to this moment. things are only going to her worse unless i figure out how to make them better. i think i know how, in theory. i just can't internalize it, or feel it, or however one would best describe the ever-present and all-consuming void that has only grown larger in isolation. there's no good end. not for something like me. it's made all the worse for being irl, since i can't do online friendships. smth smth high risk high reward. but it's really just high risk, isn't it?

I'm pathetic. i know it well, and have known it for as long as i can remember. i often find myself wondering what that really means. from the very start of my consciousness, i felt inferior. was i just born this way, some inherent truth making me below all others? being trans certainly feels like that, but there are plenty of trans people who *aren't* worthless existences, so I'm lost there. i just need a man who'll take me and make me his stay at home pet and who will burn the world to fire the forge in which he'll weld our souls into one. i need the security and peace of mind that only containment and ownership can provide.