Can the owner of this body come pick it up?

I have to do a task or I might loose my only “stable” job. As always, my mental illness makes everything really hard, so I’m stressed out. I guess I’ll be fine. Hopefully.

Another frustrating thing is that I had to look at myself through my webcam for several hours today, and surprise! That’s triggering.

I don’t know, for many years I thought “Oh well, I’m insecure, a lot of girls are” but the reality is that my discomfort with my body has many layers. It’s not just insecurity.

For starters I don’t know what I look like, for several reasons. One is that I practically never look at myself in the mirror. I remember when I watched, after many years of filming it, a video of me when I was 15. I was shocked, it was like looking at someone for the first time. It wasn’t bad, I thought I looked cute. I was sad that at the time I wasn’t able to see it.

The other reason is my OSDD-1. I’ll probably talk about that more in the future, but basically is a dissociation disorder (“Another disorder?” the crowd gasps in disbelief. Yes!).

I can only explain it as a mild form of Dissociative  Identity Disorder. The person doesn’t have completely formed alters (incorrectly called “personalities”) or long periods of amnesia. Instead, they have what some people call facets, or less defined versions of alters, and no amnesia. This is caused by trauma at a really young age.

Basically, I’m kinda divided in three parts. There are two parts of me that aren’t me, and there’s also the “real” me. And those two other parts aren’t females. So… you guessed it! Gender dysphoria ensues.

I know it sounds incredibly bizarre, but that’s all I’ve ever known so I’m used to it. And when you grow up being abused by your family,  the standards of what “normal” is don’t really apply to anything.

Pretty much all of the time my facets are fronting (OSDD / DID terms) so they don’t really identify with my body.

And when I do think of my body, it is mostly about how much I want to hurt myself.

Clearly I don’t have an ideal relationship with my body. And then when I’m forced to look at myself, it is a really uncomfortable experience.

So, after having to do that for several hour today… Borderline Personality Disorder is knocking on the door. I started thinking about how horrible I look, how no one in this earth will ever fall in love with me, and how much I want to fucking die.

I managed to talk myself out of that spiral of thoughts, but I still fell quite shitty. Being mentally ill sounds super fun, right?

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