Lament of the Mind

Personal.

I realized a little bit ago that it’s been about three years since I figured out what I “am”. And I’ve still not told anyone, at all.

Two people know, sort of. They’ve never heard me say it, per se, but I know at least one of them would understand the concept and knows enough to recognize that it’s what I am. The other would learn if I told them.

Fun part is, if I ever mentioned it to most people, 90% would stare at me wondering what the fuck I just said, 5% would wonder why it matters at all, 4% would condemn me to hell, and ~1% would actually understand. That’s pretty much why it’s pointless.

It’s not like it really matters anyway? Unless I start leaving my house again regularly, I could do whatever the hell I want and absolutely no one would know or care, so.

I hate talking in this vague sorta way. But it means too much to me to talk about directly. There are very, very few subjects I refuse to speak of. This is one of them. For all of them, I lack the answers to the questions I know people will ask. I lack the whys, and hows, and the answers to “what does that mean” and the ability to deal with the confused or judgmental jabs, or the obvious complete misunderstandings that come from ignorance and bias. So, I don’t talk about these subjects, at all, whatsoever. Which is fine. They never come up, these kinds of things DON’T come up. If they ever did, my awkwardness and avoidance of the subjects would be the FIRST thing to tip people off that something was up. But they’re subjects that aren’t spoken of in society, luckily enough for me.

It’s a confidence-killer knowing there are things about yourself that you hide, though. And confidence is something I dearly lack anyway.