0158: Boys Don't Cry


Content Warning: The following story contains references to sexual assault, self-harm, mental illness, and drug use - all of which may be difficult for some to read.


IMG_5978.JPG

“Boys Don’t Cry,” anonymous

Ever since I was younger I knew I was different, I didn’t know how but I was (well plot twist it’s because I’m transgender) my home was never really a safe place to me mostly because my birth parents would always scream at each other or us. Fast forward to grade 5. That year changed my life forever it changed my trust in humanity. I was r*ped. I had to talk to the police about it and it honestly sucked that year sucked.

I remember having to leave school early to talk to the police. after all that mess was over people started to tell me that I wanted it and that it’s all my fault and blamed me for something I can’t control. That’s when I actually like couldn’t live without self-harming. Every day I would, I started to only wear hoodies, and isolate myself from people more than I already had.

Grade 6 rolls around, I find out I’m Trans.

I come out and the day we go back to school people tell the guidance councilor. She calls me down and I’m down there basically the whole day. In the end she called my birth mum. She was against it and started to scream at me. Then I started to cut again and I couldn’t stop. I still have very visible scars on my legs from that. My friends started to accept me and actually call me by my preferred name and I was somewhat happy, until my sister tells me people are still talking about what happened the year before. Blaming it all on me saying I wanted it, calling me a slut the same stuff that happened last year. I was honestly so done with people. A few weeks later rumors started happening about me having sex with this kid and everyone believed it, I was broken. I pushed myself away from everyone, I lost everyone that year.

Grade 7 – It was decent. I came out over and over again and was yelled at every time. My birth mum said she didn’t want to see me so we stopped talking. I was never really wanted there and I’m still not because I’m Trans – it was a mess, I kept cutting and attempting suicide. Nobody ever found out because I put on a fake smile and acted so happy but deep down I think they knew what was up. I started to get scared of people touching me, getting near me, whatever it was. I would just have a panic attack is someone where to touch me. People told me to suck it up and I tried my best but I’m still super scared when people are around me. I also have panic attacks when people yell at me because of trauma but that just made them yell at me more. towards the end of that year I had people telling me I didn’t deserve to be called my preferred name and that I’m trans for attention. It was a mess, I was a mess. The year ends and I again basically lost contact with everyone from that year.

In the summer I go to warped and see bands who saved my life. I was so happy, until I wasn’t.

August 1, I tried to overdose. It didn’t work but I really tried. I hated myself so much. I started to count calories again. I started starving myself. I stopped talking as much and stayed in my room when i didn’t have to leave. My mental health wasn’t even existent.

October 6, I go clean.

November 6, I see a band that saved my life (As It Is) and [after the show] tell them I’m one month clean. The singer, Patty, was so happy and so proud it made me realize I needed to try my best to stay clean for him. I saw them again on November 17 and I was so happy.

I was genuinely happy for the first time in so long.

January rolls again and i start getting flashbacks for when I came out. It made me want to get January over with. January finally finishes and boom my dog dies, my dog I’ve had for years. I tried to kill myself. I wasn’t clean anymore. I felt that I fucked up, that I failed the bands I tried to stay clean for.

February 14, I was going to see another band who truly helped my through so much shit, but I was planning to say my goodbyes. I get there and plan to meet two of my friends who were the sweetest people ever. The bands made me realize something, I don’t really know what but they did. I talked to Patty again and I told him about it. I apologized to him saying that I tried my best. His response was, “sorry to me? Don’t be sorry to me. You’re fine. Shit happens.” Those words mean the world to me. I started telling him about how I was going to try to attempt the next day and how I wasn’t going to anymore because of how he helped me through that shit – how he made me change my mind. I realized I had a purpose again; I was happy. They (Patty and Ronnie) are some of the sweetest people to ever exist. They were so happy and so genuine it just made me feel wanted and welcomed.

All the bands also supported different things like a voice for the innocent, hope for the day, etc. and it just made me so happy to know that they care about us. I went home happy. I had the best night of my life.

Now I’m almost 2 weeks clean and I haven’t tried to attempt again. I’m so much happier now and you can tell. I’m trying my best to stay strong and try to make it back to one month clean, then two, then three and so on but right now I’m going to focus on my mental health becoming better.


IMG_5978.JPG