therapy

I don't understand how everybody expects me to be better after the tinniest bit of therapy. How they expect me to come home a changed man. How they expect me to wake up a new person. I just don't understand. It took years to make me this way so it only makes sense that it would take years to turn me back into the person I used to be...I don't remember who that is though...Adlar? Gabriel? Me? Me of course. I'm the cause of everybody's problems.

I'm supposed to be a girl. Mom said so. I'm supposed to be a girl because otherwise they won't love me...they'll send me away. Nobody loves me and no one ever will. I'll just stay here. Trapped forever. I was trapped as a boy, why shouldn't I be now? Nothing's changed. 

She says I'm getting better but I find it so hard to believe her. I'm so tired. 

the title of this blog doesn't make any sense...

I don't know what else to call it but none of this is 'in the past' it's more of a 'me writing whatever is on my mind' before I go to bed or whenever.

I'm shrinking myself.

I've been having urges again. I hate that I can't do anything about them. I don't like being so powerless.

She says this is normal...that it's just a phase. It doesn't feel like a phase. 

I've been having suicidal thoughts again. Just want it to stop. I wish I could do something to make it go away, but of course I'm too weak as usual.

I wish people wanted me...for something, anything really. It feels nice to be wanted. Sometimes I think Peter is not enough. That....that I need more then that. It's stupid, I know. 

Gabriel has been cutting again. I don't like it when he does this. It makes Peter so angry with me. He made me do bad things in the shower...I didn't mean to make him mad. Maybe I'll write about it on my other blog but I just want this one to be about thoughts and stuff. 

My biological mother has set up an appointment to meet me. I don't know how I feel about that. I feel like she's trying to mess with my mind. I feel like she won't like me, won't like how I talk, won't like how I look, won't like how I'm not straight...sometimes I wish I was, but then I think about what it would be like without him, sad, lonely, depressing. 

I don't know.

I don't know

Hospital...

Death...

Pills...

Suicide...

Words...

Goodbye...

Too late...

I just want to sleep...

I was expecting to see some results now since its been almost two months, but I suppose that was  wishful thinking at its finest. I still kick and hit and bite in my sleep...I just want to be able to sleep. That's all. Is it really all that hard?? 

I don't know. Everything seems so much stupider when I write it down.