I probably won't do this alot, and honestly I have never, ever, done anything like this before even when told I should by whatever psychologist I was seeing at the time, I just never felt interesting enough to write about what is going on with me. I kind of am on a last thread here and was like, "I have become more active here and less of a lurker, I feel down, I think I will go to Topshelf..." So I end up here and think about my options from the home page, go someplace else, read a story....blog...maybe I will do that for once. So here I am.

I just started college, for reals this time, like with a dorm and everything instead of taking college classes while living at home and for High School credit. I have a single room with a bathroom en suite which is awesome, and am enjoying my classes. I don;t know how well it will last, but I am actually focussing in my classes and doing homework, and this is a huge first for me. I have always been someone who can get the right answers on the test without doing anything, but this in turn gave me crappy as can be grades. Also I have always had trouble writing about stuff that affects me or just writing in general (hence never writing a blog, journal, diary, etc.) and because of my issues with writing it took me 4 tries to pass English Composition I.

But the main issues are not these, my family is not a perfect family, but most people in the world would have given pretty much anything to grow up with my parents. As a child I was well loved, and even when my parents divorced, it was nothing like the horror stories you hear about. I chose to live with my mother and move away from my dad, we moved 1000 miles away, from Washington State to Colorado. ---side note--- I just realized I almost always refer to my mother as "my mother" and my father as "dad"....this shows something I think....--- My mother started dating before she moved and the man was amazing, still is, just a really great guy, and before they got married 4 years later he actually asked me if I would let him marry my mother.

I lived in Colorado for 5.5 years before returning to Washington, I told everyone I missed the rain, and kind of sold it to myself...now while I did miss the rain I think I really just missed my father horribly. When we had left (my mom and I) 5 years earlier he had helped us move out and as we were pulling out of the garage he had stood there sobbing. I did see my dad frequently but it just wasn't the same.

During the time in Colorado things just grew worse and worse for me, about 4 years in I ended getting arrested for assault because i retaliated when kids picked on me at school, and after shoving a kid into a locker so hard he had the wind knocked out of him he stepped on the foot of a teacher who pressed charges, fortunately 3rd degree assault by a minor is a weak charge and I got off with it being expunged if I didn't get into any more trouble with the law. I started at a new school again (this would be my 3rd in Colorado) and during the course of the year I made a couple friends, eventually making the mistake of telling the wrong friend I was transgendered, and this slowly started through the school, but I was fortunate for it to stop a few people in. Events where I visited the Dean's office sort of built up until a point where I called a teacher, infront of the whole class, sexist for totally treating the girls in the class way better than the boys (something that gets on my nerves as one might imagine) got me expelled at which point I went to another small private school. This one lasted a week before I got in a fight with some kid for picking on me, and that had me removed from school but allowed to finish the year off at home.

Now all this stuff above had a culminating effect on my the relationship between my mother and myself, including when she found a note I had written to a friend while sitting ontop of our roof overlooking some really sharp rocks about 5 stories down. It was pretty much a suicide note, except that it was just me beating myself up for not being able to end all the pain I was in as I was tormented daily (verbally) at school. Our relationship kind of died when my mom found stuff about being transgendered on my computer because I had forgotten to lock it, so when I got home she confronted me, and wanted me to show her what was on my computer and we fought for about 2 hours just to get my password for my computer out of me, I had a whole mental breakdown and collapsed onto the table while she continued to yell at me. My Password at the time had been: ValerieKent, and I loved it because it was the bit of me that wasn't a mask.

When I finally moved back to Washington (I had gotten nowhere on even beginning to transition, or hold off of puberty) I was extremely depressed and wanted nothing to do with my dad because I was certain he would react worse than my mom would. I think it took me a year and a half to realize how wrong I was, he was simply happy to have me home, and really didn't care what I did as long as I got good grades and was happy. Neither of these things happened however and I I just kept getting bad grades in everything and becoming more and more depressed. I would cry myself to sleep because I had realized all I really wanted was just to be a daddies girl and have him love me as his girl, not that that ever happened. My mother on the other hand became more and more unbearable, and everytime I would talk with her we would fight or get into a decent tiff with each other that usually ended with me hanging up.

I was asked not to return from the school I had moved up to up in Washington, and so after finishing the year at home (barely), I went to the public school in the area and started in the Running Start Program (cool program where you can attend the local community college and get high school credits as well as college ones) here I flourished shortly then fell into the rut of depression and video games. I didn't want to do anything because I was depressed and skipped class very regularly. I don't know what I would have done without my...er...non gendered sgnifigant other, Ashe helped me finish school, and made me happy for the first time in a long time as someone who accepted me as I was, and liked all the changes I wanted to make to my appearance to be more feminine. So we dyed my hair, pierced my ears and had my hair cut in a feminine style. My dad was skeptical but didn't mind because I was doing better in school and was happy, my step mom (who has not been mentioned before for some reason) was much more against these changes, but was passive aggressive about it and came around.

NOW...we come back to my mother and why I am writing this huge tome. My mother was openly against it and when I dyed my hair said she would happily give me the money to change it back if I felt I didn't like my hair, this was said in a tone that screamed she was unhappy with my choice (a really red auburn color). She was more than shocked when i pierced my ears and told me if I took them out quickly there would be no sign I had ever pierced them. This went on for about 2 years, but those are the examples I can think of.

More recently however before I started attending a small community college that had a dorm, I dyed my hair again, back to the really red auburn color I had liked so much. After doing so (I guess I provoked her to say something this time) I posted pictures on facebook for all my friends who don't know "me" to get a laugh over my crazy hairdo again. I expected my mother to follow the "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all rule" and was very surprised when she came back with another offer to pay for me to change my hair back. I shouldn't have been too surprised.

The things that make me depressed when talking to my mother is just the quips she makes that don't sound like much but I hear every time I speak or chat with her.

an excerpt of our chat today and where I stopped talking to her (my name was at the [...] spot, I don't like it and therefor took it out.):

"Mom: you had told me what originally? The extra? To be honest [...], if you keep your grade above a 3.0, are enjoying the school, making friends, having a good time and again, keeping your grades up, then I'm happy to pay the extra for the single room. Dad and I just don't want to be forking out extra money if you're not giving it your all. I'm sure you understand our position..."

I know she cares for her son, but I don;t think she cares for her daughter and that is what really hurts the most. I am just getting depressed again, however being in a community of people makes me feel less like an outcast and that is how I have kept myself above water for the past 2 weeks. I really need to talk to the Therapist here and see what she says, however I am scared to approach the topic because I am just so far from where I want to be I feel like she will laugh me out of her office. I really need to get to a better place, but I am scared to leave where I am.

I know this beast of a post is rambling and explains alot of things in the worst way possible, but that is how my brain spits things out.
I just want to be in a better place than where I am now.

~Val