An Open Letter To My Body Dysphoria, Please, Let Me Rest

An Open Letter To My Dysphoria, Please, Let Me Rest

If this is hell, then I am living it.

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I lie in my bed.

I cannot move.

I cannot speak.

If this is hell, then I am living it.

I want to shed my skin, I want to get rid of these old, hollow bones, this world is a place of torment and I am in the devil's playground.

I am taunted day and night by the blood that flows from me to remind me that I need to be reproducing, I need to be creating a life — ironic, when I never even asked to be alive.

I stick a needle into my skin and watch as thick fluid runs from the tip of it into my body, but I feel no real change. The blood still flows, it has been one day and my voice does not sound like my father's, like my brother's, like my lover's. To say I am jealous is one of the grossest understatements. I am beyond jealous. I want to hit a button and to awaken as the man I never knew I couldn't be.

Maybe in death, I could finally get some sleep. It feels over now. I have no use here really, even if I convince some doctor someday to take this bleeding organ from me, I will never be the boy I desire to me. I got unlucky. I got handed a life that is a poor excuse for much of anything.

I need rest, I have my friends read to me over the phone. They sing sweet poems in my ear and lull me to a sleep where my mind can escape my body even if only for a little while. In those few seconds, few hours, few minutes, I am allowed to leave myself. I can never escape myself.

And I hate myself so this is indeed one of the cruelest fates I am forced to endure.

I want no children, if I were to have a son I would hate him. I would hate that he was genuinely born with everything I could have ever wanted. He stole the life that I should have lived. My brother, the second born, stole the life that I could have lived. So many people around me are nabbing the life that I want and that I deserve to have. Please, let me rest. I deserve it.

I will never be OK. I had a 50% chance of being born into the right body. But I was not.

I just need help. But there is none.

Please help me. There is none.

Please, voices, in my head, be quiet.

Please hammer pounding on my heart, be still.

Let me breathe.

Let me live.

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20 Things That Happen When A Jersey Person Leaves Jersey

Hoagies, pizza, and bagels will never be the same.
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Ah, the "armpit of America." Whether you traveled far for college, moved away, or even just went on vacation--you know these things to be true about leaving New Jersey. It turns out to be quite a unique state, and leaving will definitely take some lifestyle adjustment.

1. You discover an accent you swore you never had.

Suddenly, people start calling you out on your pronunciation of "cawfee," "wooter," "begel," and a lot more words you totally thought you were saying normal.

2. Pork Roll will never exist again.

Say goodbye to the beautiful luxury that is pork roll, egg, and cheese on a bagel. In fact, say goodbye to high-quality breakfast sandwiches completely.

3. Dealing with people who use Papa Johns, Pizza Hut, or Dominos as their go-to pizza.

It's weird learning that a lot of the country considers chain pizza to be good pizza. You're forever wishing you could expose them to a real, local, family-style, Italian-owned pizza shop. It's also a super hard adjustment to not have a pizza place on every single block anymore.

4. You probably encounter people that are genuinely friendly.

Sure Jersey contains its fair share of friendly people, but as a whole, it's a huge difference from somewhere like the South. People will honestly, genuinely smile and converse with strangers, and it takes some time to not find it sketchy.

5. People drive way slower and calmer.

You start to become embarrassed by the road rage that has been implanted in your soul. You'll get cut off, flipped off, and honked at way less. In fact, no one even honks, almost ever.

6. You realize that not everyone lives an hour from the shore.

Being able to wake up and text your friends for a quick beach trip on your day off is a thing of the past. No one should have to live this way.

7. You almost speak a different language.

The lingo and slang used in the Jersey area is... unique. It's totally normal until you leave, but then you find yourself receiving funny looks for your jargon and way fewer people relating to your humor. People don't say "jawn" in place of every noun.

8. Hoagies are never the same.

Or as others would say, "subs." There is nothing even close in comparison.

9. Needing Wawa more than life, and there's no one to relate.

When you complain to your friends about missing Wawa, they have no reaction. Their only response is to ask what it is, but there's no rightful explanation that can capture why it is so much better than just some convenient store.

10. You have to learn to pump gas. Eventually.

After a long period of avoidance and reluctance, I can now pump gas. The days of pulling up, rolling down your window, handing over your card and yelling "Fill it up regular please!" are over. When it's raining or cold, you miss this the most.

11. Your average pace of walking is suddenly very above-average.

Your friends will complain that you're walking too fast - when in reality - that was probably your slow-paced walk. Getting stuck behind painfully slow people is your utmost inconvenience.

12. You're asked about "Jersey Shore" way too often.

No, I don't know Snooki. No, our whole state and shore is not actually like that. We have 130 miles of some of the best beach towns in the country.

13. You can't casually mention NYC without people idealizing some magical, beautiful city.

Someone who has never been there has way too perfect an image of it. The place is quite average and dirty. Don't get me wrong, I love a good NYC day trip as much as the next person, but that's all it is to you... a day trip.

14. The lack of swearing is almost uncomfortable.

Jerseyans are known for their foul mouths, and going somewhere that isn't as aggressive as us is quite a culture adjustment.

15. No more jughandles.

No longer do you have to get in the far right lane to make a left turn.

16. You realize that other states are not nearly as extreme about their North/South division.

We literally consider them two different states. There are constant arguments and debates about it. The only thing that North and South Jersey can agree on is that a "Central Jersey" does not exist.

17. Most places also are not in a war over meat.

"Pork roll" or "taylor ham"... The most famous debate amongst North and South Jersey. It's quite a stupid argument, however, considering it is definitely pork roll.

18. You realize you were spoiled with fresh produce.

After all, it's called the "Garden State" for a reason. Your mouth may water just by thinking about some fresh Jersey corn.

19. You'll regret taking advantage of your proximity to everything.

Super short ride to the beach and a super short ride to Philly or NYC. Why was I ever bored?

20. Lastly, you realize how much pride you actually have in the "armpit of America," even if you claimed to dislike it before.

After all, there aren't many places with quite as much pride. You find yourself defending your state at all necessary moments, even if you never thought that would be the case.

Cover Image Credit: Travel Channel

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How I Came To The Realization That I Was Bi

Sometimes you don't always know who you are, but when you know, YOU KNOW.

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Growing up, I knew that I liked boys and I never had to question that. I remember my first crush, my teen heartthrobs, and even my odd obsession with Brendan Fraser. Maybe it was because I thought that was what I was "supposed" to feel. When you are a little girl, you are constantly asked what boy you had a crush on or if you had a boyfriend. It's like society is embedding in you at a young age that you have only one option.

It wasn't until I got to college that I started to question whether boys were my only choice. It started off like most cliche college movies do, with a party. I saw a girl kiss another girl and I was jealous. I wanted that to be me and I didn't know why. I always thought that girls were pretty but I never thought anything more of it. I never tried to think anything more of it, because I didn't think it was a possibility. Not until that night. You see, you never think something is possible for you until you see people like you doing that thing.

I found my eyes lingering on girls a little bit longer than usual and truly admiring them as I did boys before. At parties, I would make out with girls just for "fun," because that's what everyone did. That was until finally, I met a girl that seemed to really like me. I pursued her, thinking that she actually was interested in me. It was exciting and I was feeling a way that I never felt before. Then after a while, she told me she wasn't really gay and I felt heartbroken, betrayed even. I've never felt the sting of unrequited feelings from a girl before. I knew then that I was bi. I knew that what I felt was real and a few days later, I told my friends and then I told my mom. It felt as though I was finally sure of who I was and what was possible for me in life.

I still struggled with figuring out who I was after that and constantly found myself sliding up and down the sexuality spectrum. Though as a grew older, I realized that it's okay to be bi. It's okay to feel whatever I am feeling because that is me and I am just fine the way I am.

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