Me: [ transports to the past]My 1st grade teacher: “Who are you?” Me: “I’m Amaris, bitch!” [ punches teacher in face ] “Now who’s brain dead?!” [ shows thumbs up to shocked 7 year old self] “They’re wrong, and you’re smart, sweetie. Oh, and you’re a girl!” [ runs away from the custodian who has showed up with a broom ]
It is a very difficult day today for me, emotionally. Nothing outside so much has changed, it’s inside. Once more the identity of who I am screams at me, and points out that I am a fat, hairy, chronically ill person who is already halfway (or greater) through life with no signs of any part of their dreams coming true, and sometimes I’ll say those dreams are dead anyway, why try to reanimate them? While there are other moments where…