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About Mental_Model_Zao

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  • Birthday 06/14/1988
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    WoWs, Warmachine, Elite:Dangerous

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  1. Something that has been on my mind for a while. It's gonna be a longish post so take that what you will.


    I've always found myself with 4 distinct styles in life, masks if you will, there is the one I present to the world, to my co-workers, to the strangers, to the customers, and the others that only my friends, my family, my safe spaces see.


    This main mask I feel like I am forced to wear the most is one that is nothing more than an obedient servant, borderline dog. It doesn't matter what I say, or what I do, I will always be wrong and they will always be right. I've learned to keep myself distant from anyone and everyone, to not let others in, to not trust anyone lest they take your secrets and use them against you, time and time again. My current job doesn't even know I am transgender, they think and believe I am just a girl with a deep voice that is good at what she does which is driving. That is what I am paid to do, no matter how much my morning shift runner berates and criticizes me, my priority is to make sure the customers get their food in a timely manner. What happens outside that bubble matters not to me, it isn't my job. However, being so distant being so... kuukere is the term I believe, may shield me from the abuse, but it also shields me from genuinely nice people as well. It takes a lot to get though to me. I... don't like trusting strangers honestly, but I have to sometimes.


    My desired outlook on life is positive, most of the time. Many of my friends can tell you that, and hide my inner turmoil the best I can behind a smiling, pun-rich facade. I love pastels and cute things, especially cats and smaller dogs like corgis and pompskies. If you gave me a choice between a pink dress straight from Harajuku or pants and a shirt I would go with the dress any day of the week. There are so many styles and outfits I want to wear and try, make-up I want to try and experience, only my finances and my odd body shape limit me. and limit me they do.


    Though what holds me and all my sides together is the gamer side, the one that enjoys this game and all of its sometimes abusable faults. The one that the person I fell in love with met first. I can be aloof and thoughtful, always putting my friends over myself, I will gladly jump on top of that grenade if it means saving everyone around I. And it hurts when people ignore what I do. I by far not the best leader but I try my best to inspire and rally those around me. When I'm not on the computer I'm at my desk working on a model or plotting my next cosplay prop. Yet, both of these sides are held back by the other side of me, the darkest one.


    The one that to me, is the manifestation of my depression, my anger, my frustration. The one that scares my boyfriend when it comes out, the one that has thrown controllers and cracked a friend's jaw. HRT may have soften it from what it once was but it is something that even scares me. Its... hard to accept that such a vile darkness even exists in me, I hoped that stopping playing games like COD and GoW and being more at peace with myself had finally but it to sleep but even in sleep she still haunts me. I don't mean to be snarky, I don't mean to sarcastic half the time, I don't mean to condemn and criticize my teammates but it comes out. It makes me feel like I'm being a hypocrite. She... keeps me chained to my bed, and on my phone to she me, to prove to me, how [edited] this world, this country, this town I call home, is becoming... and that she is my only friend. That in only in her will I be safe from those that wish to destroy me, and... I know she is wrong but... what if she is right at times...


    Truth be told, I don't know why I am writing this, on a public forum no less... I just hope that my boyfriend will still love me even on the days where I just can't control her any longer. It's tiring, it's why despite how much I wanna dive and wear the latest in Harajuku fashion I almost always end up in a shirt and pants, or skirt if I can muster up a little extra strength, its why I don't wear make-up even though I want to... I know I need help, I need more than a strong network of friends and family and a monthly visit to my psychiatrist. Medication is expensive. Even with insurance, and with the very real possibility of me loosing my insurance soon... its why I don't pursue anti-depression medication. Hormones are dirt cheap, even without insurance, instead of paying 2 bucks for both monthly prescriptions it would be about 20 for both. its 1000% increase but 20 bucks once a month doesn't hurt the wallet like anti-depressants do. I'm sure people here will say its worth the risk, but they have never experienced anti-depressant withdrawal like have. Because it has happened once before in my life, let me tell you it's not fun.


    No let me actually break down what happened. It was August 2012 I was given an opportunity to work at Nintendo and I jumped on it. unfortunately because anti-depressants are a controlled substance there was no way my psychologist at the time could legally send me scripts so I wouldn't lapse, and I couldn't find a new one that took my insurance so when September 21st rolled around and the last pill was taken, the worst 2 and a half months began. the first week I felt fine, helped make dinner, went out with roommates for shopping, spent time with new boyfriend at the time. It was in the middle of the second week where it all started happening. at first it was more calls from the void, I forget what the actually french term is but it translate to a call from the void, like I should hurl myself out my open 21st story window and see how long it would take to hit the ground, or I should throw myself in front of the passing buses that were passing my apartment. By the third week I couldn't leave the couch because I became so paranoid I couldn't even trust myself. Halloween, the voices began. Never before have I ever heard voices till then and it was... there are no words it's like invisible ghosts hovering around all the time telling you that you are worthless, you are garbage, you are scum, you are a burden, your family doesn't love you, your friends don't love you. Over, and over, and over, and over, and over, 24 hours a day even in my dreams they would turn to nightmares telling me I should just climb out that window and let go. At this point any sane person would have taken me to a hospital but I didn't have insurance now, nor did my roommates we couldn't even afford the ambulance so they hid all the silverware and my hobby tools, and kept a constant eye for weeks. It wasn't till a few days before thanksgiving before it finally past, I felt like absolute crud, but the voices were gone. I survived withdrawal but many don't and I swore to myself I wouldn't let something like that ever happen again. 


    So now you know, and you now know why I am so hesitant on getting medication again. But the whole point of all the this is that no matter what happens. I'm gonna keep fighting, no matter how bedridden and depressed I am, I will never take the coward's way out. And I hope that the person I love and cherish can know that no matter how deep I sink into the darkness, his light will always find me, and I hope that he can bear with me while I figure out who I am, who I want to be, in those trying days and times. and thank you.


    I want to thank him so much, and hope someday... I can...


    for now though, I'll just keep surviving like I always do and hope these bad times in America will pass.


    I love you all so much,