And to the surprise of millions I'm not dead.
Uh feeling good about myself and life.
Except for my impending doom.
Oh yeah I didn't tell y'all about that.
So the story goes:
*Me one night feel very dysphoric*
"Please Lady Freyja take my chest away I can't deal with it anymore. Take it away I don't care how: cancer, an accident, it mysteriously disappears one night. Just take it away"
*Later that night in my dreams*
Lady Freyja: My child, it will happen.
*Me the next day as soon as I wake up* "Thank you Lady Freyja."
Also me *wheezes for three days straight*
My mom *takes me to the ER*
The ER "welp we're as helpful as we've always been here, that is to say we ain't do Jack shit except bill you for medicines that don't work and unneeded X rays, go to the doctor"
Me and my mom "nope no insurance we wait"
Me *does my research*
Google "all roads lead to cancer good luck"
My body "all roads lead to cancer good luck"
And scene.
Yup I'm checking out all the boxes for early stage breast cancer after begging Lady Freyja to take my chest away. But we'll see.
YOU ARE READING
My Diary For Bored Ppl
RandomBc I feel like it, read into my innermost thoughts. Its like the title says, a public diary. See the life of a mentally ill trans kid in the rural south.
