Intro - Yeah Boy.

this is the first entry of Yeah Boy and Dollface, and we bid you welcome to the show!

We are two beings, great friends who adores writing, and wanted to make a collaboration of texts. It will mainly consist of poems, thoughts, short stories, and scribbles, though other things may sneak in, like self-taken photos and other stuff.
We chose to use the song "Yeah Boy and Dollface" as our blog's name, as we both love the song. We will both go under the names of the song, I, "Yeah Boy" and the girl of this duo, "Dollface" (because she really is one, haha.)

I'm just gonna write about who I am, and what I plan on doing.
I am 18 years old, male, but not quite. I'm transitioning from female to male, to match who I am on the inside. I live in Denmark, aswell as Dollface.
I'm the the 3rd and last child my mum conceived, and probably the most twisted kid of the group. they talked a lot about getting an abortion before I entered the world, and pretty much everyone in my family told me they shouldn't get another child. but my mum chose to get this child, though.
I come from a broken family, now consisting of a mother, an older sister and a big brother. my father died when I was at the age of 12, from a few years of living with cancer. I'm over it though, and I've accepted it, that life is fragile and not as pure as you thought it was, when you were little. I don't remember that much from my father, he was an alcoholic and heavy chainsmoker, to which he passed away. Later, my mother married another man, who also died of cancer last year or so.
When I was around.. 9 or 10, my mother chose to divorce my father, after being unhappy in the relationship ever since I was born. She only chose to be with him, because she wanted us to grow up with a consisting family and be happy. I never were, though, and it runs deep still to this day, all the fucked up memories I have from that time of my life.
I remember as a child, laying in my bed crying every night, trying to choke down the cries and tears running down my cheeks, not wanting anything else than them to stop yelling at each other and stop my mother's sobs. through two closed doors, I could still hear them so vividly. I saved my mother from suicide at the age of 6 or 7, and from that time, I was more adult than most kids at my age.
I was bullied through the most of my school time, and didn't really have friends. I suffered from social angst, and when just someone talked to me, my heart started beating like crazy, as if it was popping through my chest, and the sound noised over everything inside my head, couldn't hear what the person in front of me said. My throat etched like acid, and dried up completely, and I felt dizzy. I could hardly reply, and if I did, I always answered with such a low voice, they couldn't hear what I replied. Which only caused more bullying. Around the age of 10, I started self-harming, sort of. It was never intense, but I remember back, and I can recall myself damaging things on myself on purpose, even though I never knew what self-harm was. It was stuff like running into things, falling down from trees I had climbed, trying to break my leg on purpose and things like that.
The first time the thought of comitting suicide hit me, I was 10 years old. I had been severely bullied all that day, and my so-called classmates had thrown dead spiders at me, which really traumatized me, since I suffer from crazy arachnophobia. So I got home, cried my eyes out, and threw all the things on my table around in the room, screaming. I found myself in the mirror, wishing for an exit. Then, I realized, that death was an option.. and that was the day everything started, the thoughts of killing myself.
I started developing an eating disorder around that time, too. I couldn't stand looking at myself, and I felt like I didn't deserve anything. So I threw the plate away from the table, metaphorically, and just stopped intaking. I rarely ate anything, not the slightest thing close to a meal, if I did eat. I exercised the shit out of myself, waking up at 5 AM to exercise in the morning, even though I had to be in school at 8 AM. The eating disorder tore me down, and I got sicker and sicker, gradually. when I was around 14 years old, I weighed around 42 kg, I think, but my lowest weight was around 36 or 37 kgs. I still get plagued by it from time to time, but I somehow manage to snap out of it. Not too long ago, I had another period of it, where it developed into making myself vomit on a daily basis.
When I was 15 or 16, I got hospitalized at a mental hospital. I was severely underweight, depressed, psychotic, and a scarred wrist, due to me "trying to go deeper and deeper each day", to finally make the last cut to end it all. And each day, it did get deeper. I was hospitalized for 7 months. I didn't believe the world around me was real, and that I just was some sort of thought created by another human, that I wasn't real, that if I looked over my shoulder rapidly, the world would built itself when I looked. Walls started to bulge and get closer to me, the floor waved like the ocean, and swalllowed me up. I started on anti-psychotic medicin.
As a child, I never had a personality, never knew who I was. I wasn't interested in anything, and I was rather apathetic. Then a day at my father's place, I looked through a magazine, and stopped up at a page of a male model. And the thought hit me; "why aren't I the male model?". I used my nights crying and hating my body, my body slowly turning more and more feminine. I was scared. This was the only thing I did not want to become.  At first, I thought it was because I didn't want to grow up; later, I realized that it was because I was frightened by the thought of becoming a woman. when I was 17, I came out of the closet as transgender, a male mind in a female body. And I have never felt better, than now, when I'm out. I'm soon to transition, and I later found out, that the eating disorder mainly was based on me not wanting curves like a lady. The psychosis, from surpressing my true self from others, and even myself. And I'm so much better, than I've ever been my entire life.
I have a lot of other fucked up things in my past, but this is the brief story, actually, even though I've written about a novel now, haha. Death has always been close to me, like watching me and saying "you might be next". I've seen a whole bunch of people die. I was once frightened and felt like everything was my fault, but I've come to accept it now. Life is short, and you got to make the best out of it, before you're gone. Life is fragile. Life is beautiful, yet grotesque. And it's all about becoming who you really are, being true to yourself and others, appreciating all you get handed.
I believe in reincarnation, and I think life is a lot like cherryblossoms. You start out with this black tree, and then suddenly, a bud starts growing. Eventually, it will be joined with some other buds, which just happens to be on the same tree. You bloom, you live. And then the other flowers starts withering and dying, just to be gone. Then it's your turn. You die. And then the summer after, you come back again, just to start the circle up again. It's Uroborus.
 Life is short... So fragile and delicate.

This turned out longer than it should, but I wanted to get my story out, and this was a great opportunity to do it anonymously. Most of my writings will relate to my past, too. 
I think that was it - appreciate life, and accept your flaws and wrong choices. Life is too short, and actually really beautiful - you just have to open your eyes.


- 
Yeah Boy.