Sometimes I just… stop

And I look at myself. I look and I don’t like what I see.

I look at my face, I look at the motions my body goes through, I look at my everything I’m doing lately, and I just think, everything I do is weak and lame. No matter what I do, no matter how I express myself or what I become interested in, it will always be weak and lame and everything I try to do to try to become “stronger” in this big, abstract sense is just more weak lameness which is only embarrassing in a new way.

I look at my face and it looks uncomfortably like the face that belonged to my previous name. It’s not my faceā€”it’s not the face of “Takumi”. It’s J. Doe’s face. J. Doe is just staring back at me out of the mirror, as if wondering why I’m not being them. Or rather, as if everyone else is.

They’ve already had their chance. I already have been them for 17 years, and since that period of me dormantly inhabiting the far corners of my body, my true self has emerged, grown, and become a true sentient being in control of it. “Takumi” isn’t simply something J. Doe invented. I often feel like I wasn’t truly alive before I became “Takumi”, and I only started life when I stopped simply faking that J. Doe was who I was because I didn’t know any better.

But no matter what I do J. Doe just won’t stop showing through. My face looks immature like J. Doe’s face, I sound all mousy like J. Doe, J. Doe just won’t leave me alone and let me feel good about myself.
Sometimes I wonder if my biological sex, or my 22 other chromosomes, have predestined who I am just because J. Doe keeps coming back again and again, the approximately 3 (sometimes 8) people I see in the flesh on a regular basis still call me J. Doe even though they know my new name, and negative messages are so ubiquitous everywhere that after a certain point I often end up wondering if they’re all true.

But it’s not always J. Doe.

Sometimes, when I’m completely convinced that I am indeed Takumi, I’ve earned it, and no matter how much I fail to be awesome it doesn’t take away my growth or sentience, I just… feel inadequate.

Like I’m just flailing around and I’ll never get any “stronger”. That I’m just weak in every area of trying to be a human, my attempts to improve at things will not succeed, and nobody I’m trying to prove anything to by attempting to improve myself is ever going to listen to me. I think of all the times my brother didn’t believe I could do things, and I start to wonder if it really is true that because I was born as J. Doe and not somebody cooler I will never actually be cool.