You Have No Idea.

You have no idea what it's like.
To constantly doubt your own trauma, because it didn't hurt you that bad.
To constantly doubt your own trauma, because even if it did you recovered quickly.
To sit awake wondering if you were always this lewd.. or if you're just so broken you forgot who you used to be.
To be afraid to think about your identity because of the doubts that creep in.
To think it's just a fetish, just a sex thing, just something She made you into.
To hurt your friends.
To feel like you're the same as Her.
To constantly doubt if your dysphoria is real.
To feel like a monster.
To break down crying at night because you put thought into your identity.
To scream and scream inside but refuse to tell those you love and care about.
To sing "One. Nothing's right with me. Two. Nothing's right with me. Three. Nothing's right with me. Four. Nothing's right with me." And be terrified about how correct it feels.
To doubt not only your gender identity, but your entire identity itself.
To fall and fail so hard you can't face your parents, or anyone.
To go from straight As to straight Fs in only a couple years.
To feel like everyone would be better if you weren't there to ruin it.
To only breathe because you're too afraid to end it.
To have one of your only vivid memories be the time you tried to.
To constantly want to punish yourself.
To feel like it doesn't matter if you hurt.
To care about the people you know more than yourself.
To bury everything you feel until you're ready to collapse.
To hide it all behind a mask because to show how much you hurt would hurt the people you care about, and you could never hurt them.
To feel like everything you know is fake.
To feel like every relationship you have could be destroyed in an instant if you step out of life.
To feel fake.
To refuse to take your medicine so you can live in a trance.
To prefer being a tranced out failure to facing everything that's threatening to tear you apart.
To feeling like you let everyone down every day of your pathetic life.
To growing more comfortable in pain than in happiness.
To do everything you can to keep it inside.
To gluing a mask to your face so no one can know.
To being hyper lewd and feminine because it's all you can pull off.
To cry and be terrified when your mask slips, to lose your mind in anxiety when it feels like they might know.
To feel like Cor was right to abuse you.
You don't know my fucking pain.
No one can.