I guess I should probably explain why I prefer to be called Lucas instead of that icky birth name.
To put it bluntly, and incredibly simply - and I will be extremely worried if you don't get this - I want to be a boy. Transgendered, I guess. I told my mom this and then maybe a week later, she dragged me to see Campbell and persuaded him that I needed to be on the psych ward. Of course, I had no say in this, despite the fact that I'm eighteen and have a mind of my own. Well, my mom doesn't seem to think that I do. Which is kind of unfair, really.
She says I spend so much time in my room on instant messaging things and blames them for me being so antisocial, but it's not that. I'm rarely on anything like that.
No, what I'm doing in my room most days, is looking at stuff about female to male transitions, reading about people like Ryan Sallans and Balian Buschbaum, who, apart from being kind of gorgeous, are quite frankly pretty inspirational trans men.
My mom doesn't see it that way. She thinks that they're poisoning my mind with all this ‘tranny junk' as she likes to call it. She tells me to stop looking at it, that she will take my laptop away. But that just means that I delete my history now and fill it up with homework stuff instead. She praised me, calling me such a ‘good girl' for obeying her. I could have punched her.
Actually, I nearly did.
But then that would have given it away, wouldn't it?
And I can't give it away to her just yet. I don't know if I ever will.
Fuck, this is killing me.