Can't think of an imaginative or descriptive title, so this is what you get

Welcome back to my blog. I took a month off in August, and school just started so I may forget to post or post late and backdate. I should probably have included this with my last post, but I didn't.

In the past year, I have done and said things that are unforgivably racist.

This post isn't about those things. It's not about what I'm doing to fix what I did. It's self-indulgent. It's about me.

All of my posts are about me, because who else is the protagonist in my life movie?

Because of what I did and the way I've handled being called out for it, several people understandably feel unsafe around me. I don't fault them for that, nor do I fault them for telling me. I understand that I'm not supposed to talk about this hurting me, people who I thought were my friends cutting off contact with me, people who I barely interacted with telling me that I make them feel unsafe, because I'm not supposed to make this about me. As a white person, I have the privilege and the ability to step away from what I did, to make it seem like it was a one-time thing, or to act like it doesn't matter anymore because it was half a year ago.

But it doesn't feel like an ability. I'm a full-time undergraduate student majoring in classical music performance, which is difficult. I'm also mentally ill, but I'm not, apparently, allowed to say that I'm mentally ill on my grad school applications, even though I now have (most of) the diagnoses to back up my interpretation of the symptoms.

It feels like a necessity. I can't function if I don't block out some parts of my life. Even now, three days into my senior year, I'm almost completely overwhelmed, and I'm taking the fewest credits I've taken since freshman year.

I feel like no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to fix what I did, so what's the point of trying? I can't deal with my guilt alone, but I can't ask my friends to help me with it, because what I did was so wrong. If I say I just want it to end, I'm being manipulative, I'm guilt tripping people, I'm making it about me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, and it hurts as much as anything else has ever hurt, because I regret what I did and how I reacted afterwards more than I've ever regretted anything, but there isn't anything I can do about it because the people I hurt have blocked me and I don't have any way of contacting them. Am I just supposed to not talk about it? I want people to know that I'm imperfect, that I fuck up, that they shouldn't trust me. I know that asking people for emotional support about this is wrong and makes it seem like I care more about assuaging my guilt than about fixing it, but the thing that everyone seems to be missing is that I can't actually directly fix what I did, and I'm trying to indirectly fix it as much as I can with everything else going on in my life.

I hate feeling powerless. I don't have the words for how much I hate it. All I can do is sit here and cry and try to go to sleep because maybe it'll be better when I wake up. I guess the bad days have to happen, to give the good days perspective.

There's so much more that I could type but words are not being cooperative right now. It's really difficult for me to not make things about me for a few reasons. I'm trans and mentally ill, so to survive and stay sane I kind of have to center myself; and part of my childhood was kind of both me being the center of attention and also me being made to feel guilty about it. Without my individuality, I'm nothing. I don't have anything useful or special about me except that there is no one else who is exactly like me. This feels slightly off topic and I can't figure out how to connect it to the rest of the post but feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, if you'd like.