There are a lot of things I could address, a lot of things I could say, plenty to argue. One important point I think would be the best to talk about, is how much I really don’t want to write this. How much aggression, hate, and anger I have towards you without even the slightest of words having been exchanged with you in my entire life. At least that I can remember.
I want you to know though, that I’ve stopped blaming myself. I want you to know that in the 20 years I’ve lived, today I stopped hating myself. You were never around to blame. The only other person I could blame was myself and I didn’t realize until today that I unconsciously had directed every ounce of frustration I had with you onto myself. I realized today, after only three weeks of counseling therapy, that almost every occurrence of suicide, every time I hated myself so much, that I was just blaming the only person I could blame for you leaving me. You gave up on us, on me. You’re weak, and selfish.
I realized today that I needed to confront the people who’ve done me wrong and start blaming them instead of myself. You hurt me by leaving me. You could have stopped it all. You could have relinquished me from my pain. You could have been there. You could have done something. Said something. Sent something. Called. Tried. Anything. You died when you left. You past away just like my grandfather. I don’t know you at all. But I miss you like I’ve known you my entire life.
“I know you care. I know it has always been there.”
In my strength and in my stoicism and solidarity, there is a pain and a doubt. I have spent formative years, such formative years, hearing, being told, that an intrinsic part of me is fake. Impossible. A sham. That I cannot be in two worlds at once, that I am confused, or greedy.
It has made me…
It’s very interesting to me to read another person’s deepest thoughts and in this instance feel as if I’m listening to someone else talk about my own problems, as if you’ve walked a very similar path to mine to where it’s almost indistinguishable.
I understand. A combination of something similar to this along with a host of other issues and events in my recent past had led me to seek out a therapist who, in the last week has helped me see things in a greater perspective.
All of my childhood was a play. An acting role where I satisfied my family’s view of me all the while hiding my true identity. It wasn’t until high school that I started to feel more comfortable with not hiding it as much. But of course there’s always consequences. I ran into some conflict with my mother and my sisters with transitioning into a more confident person with myself in being gay and it’s taken me a long time to get to where I am today.
All that to say, as a young adult, we are forming our identities. We’re fitting in puzzle pieces to see how they work with our personality and identity, and the ones that don’t fit are thrown out, and the ones that do fit become part of us. Everyone fine tunes their identity at a different pace. I ran into some issues with dealing with my identity and how my future would look which caused me some emotional stress however, now that I understand that I don’t have to worry about betraying my identity if I find the female form in an artistically beautiful way, I can move forward with not arresting my stability by upheaving and questioning who I really am.
And in a literal reality sense, who ever makes you happy in the end, it won’t matter what’s between their legs. :) If you’re emotionally attracted to both women and men, then whom ever takes your heart away will make you the happiest person you’ve ever been.
I wanted to convince myself what I was bi when I was younger, just because “gay” seemed to be the more critical term that would garner the most rejection from my family. I was afraid and had little confidence in being happy in the future. But I came to terms with my sexual orientation and surrounded myself with competent nonjudgmental people to where even if my mom doesn’t support my relationships, I can feel safe in knowing there’s always someone who I can connect with and find that support with. :)
Mislead were you
To believe in such
That heaven will denounce
The evils too much
Placed your trust
In your heart you must
Adjust to the thrust
Robust the gust
Just before you combust
But at last it’s revealed
When at night you wake
From terrors of death
That reality is the God
Who governs the rational
Surrendered to its grip
I have no choice
But to hold my emotions
From killing me
How can I remain impartial?
The dire need to subjugate my fear left my heart at a stand still. The demons of past gave prejudice in return for my consolidation. Was I really about to let go?
My hand on his chest, I could feel the life giving force inside him at work. I felt the connection of our souls across the membranes of our skin. I tripped into his heart, unaware that I had stolen it when I left; and at check, discovered that mine had been misplaced as well. Though I knew the culprit; and in that moment, knew that we were at sync. Beating as one, I found that feeling I had forgotten.
I let go.
“What is it you want?”
Looking back into his eyes, words didn’t come. The innocent blue-green keeping my gaze. Still laying down, I looked back up at the sky, closing my eyes.
How can it be so simple? Any attempt to begin the thought process only flooded my brain with more reasons and logic behind everything, tiring me out before I could even speak. It’s not so simple. Living in a world with millions of colors can only make the most simple of choices seem overwhelming. I am not in part lazy or apathetic, but in the only twenty years I’ve been alive, every twist and turn of the universe only reveals a myriad of more complex situations and knowledge of life. Opening my eyes, I take a deep long breath:
“At every moment in my life, at every instance of that question, I’ve fallen into a conundrum of silence. When I’ve landed on one thing, another takes my attention. Nothing is simple. The universe is so amazingly complex. I can never wrap my head around anything.” My heart starts beating faster in my chest. “But—” I turn on my side towards him, “if there has ever been something more absolute, more resounding, so crystal a message from the universe, something I’ve never had to think about; it would be that you are the only thing I could ever want with such magnitude, nothing has ever been as direct in my heart, that I could never live another day not in your presence.”
Capture his heart and pray
Look into my eyes and say
That you want the sun
More than you want to run
Look at those precious eyes
The slender mix of dyes
Can kill even the most prepared
For none other have compared
Give it to him
Wrapped to the brim
You’ve met your soul
He’s made you whole
I can hear on the horizon
And remember the times when
We promised to ourselves then
That we’d love until the stars came and
I choke and descend in
The grace I’ve gained and
Pretend I’m alright when
All these things collide then
I remember the gift..
You gave first
Wrapped to the brim
We shared a moment
This is the first time posting something like this to this blog in a very long time.
But there’s some things that I’d rather have known than hidden away in a private space.
There are several realities in my life that have influenced the birth of this moment, each vastly different than the next.
My given personality, without fail, tends to absorb impending emotional currents through its diamond exterior and shelve it for archiving without ever dealing with it on the outside. It’s a defense mechanism that’s being in power for the whole of my life. I’ve thanked it dearly and I don’t regret it’s existence because it’s saved me on plenty of occasions from more enthalpy of the given occurrence. It is my friend. I’ve come to rely upon it as a character of my own security. I’ve only realized lately, however, that the unhealthy state enacted upon the foundation of its principle has lead to a whole host of other problems that are manifesting only now.
The foundation of its principle rested on the fact that I didn’t need to share anything with anyone because everyone is a threat. The perpetual continuum has always been that I was afraid to let anyone know that I was gay because of course, the security of the love of others is a fundamental guiding force in the health of most people. The rejection of others outweighed the potential benefit of being honest. This mechanism drove my subconscious to shelter damage from my psyche and therefore gave birth to the diamond exterior.
As the years progressed, it became stronger and I just continued funneling emotions into that crevasse, buffering pain from experience. I became exceptionally good at pretending and manipulating people into believing what ever I wanted them to believe about me.
However into my late teen years, as the secret got out and I released the pull to control every aspect of myself around others and I began to feel confident that others would like me, I softened. Eventually it circumnavigated to my mother and I confronted her. Facing her rejection, her plea to always care for me meant very little in that moment, and even now, though I somehow always expected support from her, and even though I still lie to myself today that she doesn’t care for me, psychologically what I really want is her support. Placing my trust in her to have it taken away was difficult but I converted hatred into a subconscious repudiation of her.
By this time, stress and emotional conflict took a marginal toll on my security. This is around the first time I noticed an occurrence of a separate train of thought. This is the only time I’ve even confronted this about myself and I think writing about it will help me understand it better. The best way to explain it is another part of me siphoned off to become it’s own. Where I loved myself, where I could feel comfortable with my future, where I could dream of looking into my husband’s eyes and seeing myself and be happy about that happening to me someday, this part of me couldn’t. Where I saw happiness, it saw hatred. Where I wanted love, it wanted revenge; and sadly it goes down from here.
To pretend that I didn’t have a problem was in my case, only fooling myself. I however, like any sane person, did not want to admit that I might be crazy. To perpetuate things even further, it named itself Brian.
That was all I knew however. I felt it’s name, but never talked to it. Where in normal situations, random feelings of hatred and pain entered my mind and I did not know where they came from.
I attributed it to stress. When situations arise in people who cannot overcome them, under the right conditions, a defense mechanism can be born. In most people it’s called Borderline Personality disorder and/or Multiple Personalities. I however had neither, only precursors. But the warning flags did not go unnoticed by me.
This all manifested within 6 months and plateaued around the late to ending of 2011. Thankfully however, something magnificent happened in my life. I met the most perfect human being who had ever given me notice. He immediately became the sole reason I was happy to wake up in the morning. He became a stable vantage point for perspective in my life. Though a problem with my diamond exterior caused some emotional confusion within me. Another problem had begun to manifest.
This time however, things were less psychotic (satire). I began to undergo what I can describe as the first minor occurrences of Depersonalization. When asking myself how I felt at any given time, I could point to happiness but could not understand the steps I traversed to get there. I could feel myself smiling but did not comprehend why. The only indication I judged from, was my heart beating rapidly when I was around him. This told me I was happy and falling in love with him. But I could not pinpoint the source of my happiness.
Gradually however, as I fell more and more in love with him, I began to understand where it was coming from. I gained a more personal sense of self in the months leading to August of 2012. The effects of Depersonalization were slightly reduced; even though I felt as if I was in the backseat to my life, the emotions I were feeling softened the grip of my psychological problems. I’m thankful everyday for the love and indirect help I received from him through this time because when the end of July came, everything changed.
The passing of my grandfather leveled the geography of my security and I reverted back to my old diamond exterior for protection. Sadly it worked very well. Of course I broke down at a few moments when I was particularly vulnerable, but never fully dealt with the pain. I kept it under check deep down. The nightmares of him passing began about two months after, and it’s very difficult to look at a picture of him. He looked me in the eyes when I said goodbye and kissed him. I helped dress him right after he died. I watched him enter the furnace. I cried on his tombstone. It wasn’t fair what he went through.
The whole ordeal and these months after have left large gaps in my defense. Everyday it becomes harder and harder to prevent everything from collapsing. Every morning driving to school I think about everything I’ve just talked about and my heart starts pounding uncomfortably. Depersonalization came back full force, it’s a toss of the dice whether one day I’ll feel in control of my experiences, or be at the mercy of autopilot. And even then sometimes I can regain control and feel like myself though that’s not always reliable.
In the end however, when all is said and I’ve written every detail, I come no closer to tranquility. What terrain I cover can be lost just as easily.
I am however, being more negative than I really feel. I have overcome so many things that I’m surprised of where I am. 4-5 years ago I would never have postulated that I’d be where I am today. I would not trade anything I’ve experienced and I regret absolutely nothing. Time moves in only one direction. Wasting any second of it feeling sorry for myself or wishing things were different is the greatest sin I or anyone could ever commit in my opinion. Everyone has something they need to overcome. I believe it’s a part of the way the universe works. I am gradually overcoming mine.
He sees him through the window
Watching him paint with colors
Humming to the melodies
Of the blues and greens
Around the corner he catches him
Drinking water from a fountain
Smiling at a text
From the one he loves
Through the window
He seems him
And wonders why
He sees himself
Tumblring with Caileigh while watching Say Yes to the Dress
I think (other than spiders)
My biggest fear is being caught in a situation where I’m holding onto a lot of balloons or just one big one and I start to lift off the ground and I become too afraid to let go and float off into the stratosphere till the balloons pop and I fall to the earth and die.
Stepping back from my seat, I see the pieces that were once fallen, have began to shine in the light. I see where from my heart, they’ve fractured off. I know where the voids are present. This sticky process I know to be living my life, becomes clearer and clearer every day. Though, I’m no more closer to answering my questions and solving my great problems, than I was yesterday.
I understand I make mistakes. I understand I will never be perfect. I understand that no matter how I will ever try to word what’s going on inside, I will never be close to hitting home, nor making anyone understand.
There is a separate me inside me. One I have no control over. My subconscious governs everything emotional about me, understanding it is a process I’ve only recently been able to attempt. It’s like a separate soul is living in me, with no connection from my end. I don’t know myself as well as I thought.
But it is so frustrating.
I can be at an engaging party filled with lovely people I’ve gotten to know the past few years, and yet, feel so alone and confused. I rode the subway down into my heart, my feelings, and reached the black wall I’ve never been able to cross. Where all my hurt was seeping from. And still couldn’t enter.
I feel so separated.
Parts of me I had a year ago, left no traces.
I guess I can attribute that to growing up and changing.
But in some way this feels different than that.
Until now, I had no motion of protection for my feelings. As I said before I thought I knew them. I see now that I do not know ‘myself’ at all.
Maybe the pang of depression is writing this, maybe the section of me that’s trying to learn about itself is writing this, maybe this is just a way to understand me right now. Maybe tomorrow something will change.
‘Cause it’s a bitter world, and I’d rather dream.
In another year I won’t be a teenager anymore.
I’ll have lived for two decades.