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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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I was walking today, and thinking. It was a good walk and a bad think.
The walk was http://tinyurl.com/25de32u and it took about two hours in damp autumn air. It gave me thinking time.
The think was about http://tinyurl.com/3youqne
I got to thinking that I know, maybe, some of what went through his mind. However hard he tried, however calm he was, however much logic he used, however much he believed in himself and what he was doing, every day he heard some narrow minded bigoted asswipe tell him he was abnormal, or an abomination, or a fag.
Every day he banged his head against a brick wall of ignorance or prejudice or plain stupidity until, one day, he had had enough.
As I walked I thought about him more and more and absorbed all this shit.
I never knew him. I just knew of him.
And got got to me, at the top of a windy hill, walking for the good of my health, for I sure as hell wasn't enjoying it, even in the fresh air, even with the view of the waves, the green fields, the birds wheeling above. Even with all that, the berries in the autumn hedgerows, even then I felt tears on my cheeks for all the harm people do.
And I could see with clarity why he thought it was pointless to carry on.
I'm not comparing what I do to what he does. We're different people, doing different things, but I shared hopelessness today.
I could have walked to the edge of the coast path and carried on walking off the cliffs.
As I walked I found I was talking out loud. I do that when I hurt. Getting my words blown away on the wind makes me believe that they're being carried somewhere I want them to go.
I know clearly what I was saying.
I don't want to be gay any more. It's a burden I don't want or need. I don't want to be told I'm abnormal. WHen I was a kid I was normal. Then at 13 I was a pervert. I don't want to feel like that any more. I want to find vaginas appealing, not penises. I want to find the gentleness of a woman's hug better than the firmness of a man's. I want to look at a man and a woman walking together as a couple and feel that they are the normal natural ones, not think of two men as a couple as natural, as normal. I want to look at heterosexual porn and get excited by it.
I've had enough of being gay. It isn't fun. It sucks. It gets better, of course it gets better, but sometimes, just sometimes, it's too hard to bear.
I'm not obsessed any more, but I still wish, hopelessly, that John, now chief probation officer of a reasonably close English county, wish that he would just meet me and be nice to me. I don't want him to run off hand in hand with me, I just want him to acknowledge that I exist, that I'm not a threat to him and to be kind to me. I love him still, you see, even if I have no idea who he is any more, even if I never had any real idea who he was when we were thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.
I know he's not a boy any more, I know he's a flabby and ordinary almost 59 year old worn out man. And I know I'm nothing to him. And, dammit, I know I have a wife, a beautiful one, who deserves more than this.
I try to be so strong, too. I try to smile when I'm low. She doesn't want a gay husband, so we almost never speak of my being gay, but I know it gets to her, and it gets to me, too.
"No, I don't want not to be gay, it's part of who I am!"
Of course we say that. There isn't a pill that changes us. We are as we are. And, since change is mythical, of course we say we don't want to change. If we said we wanted to change, knowing it to be impossible then we'd tear ourselves apart.
Well, I never wanted to be gay when I was thirteen, and I don't want to be gay now. The joke's over. Enough is enough. If I knew what being not gay was I'd be it in the blink of an eye.
But I can't find women attractive.
There aren't many men I fid attractive either.
The whole sexual orientation thing is a sick joke. My right hand and a bit of indecent porn's far better than anything else anyway.
So I think I understand the guy in NYC who killed himself.
If you're getting this far and thinking "Does he have a message for us in all this?" The answer is that I do not. Why would I have? How could I have? WHat message could there possibly be?
I'm not lying when I say it gets better.
It's just that sometimes it doesn't.
And then I scream John's name and ask him into the wind why he will not meet me and talk.
And I know I am unimportant to him and that is why.
I know it's stupid.
I used to cry when I screamed his name. Now I just scream it with dry and empty eyes.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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It does become overwhelming at times and it takes everything you have to step back from it all, take a break, gather your thoughts and refocus yourself , and sometimes your life in order to carry on. But you must carry on. I have read several of your posts regarding John, and they have all tugged at my heart, but this post I read 3 times and am welling up with tears. I am a trucker and in no way effeminate. This usually doesn't happen to me but in this post I can feel your anguish and pain.
You say you've had enough of being gay, but that would mean not being you. That would mean your life would have gone in an entirely different direction. That would mean that those you have helped along the way would not have been helped. My nephew here has watched several of the "it gets better" videos on the site and they have given him strength and insight. Although I have absolutely no idea how to type what he just said since I don't speak "teen", I think what he meant was, at 15 things are already smoothing out some for him.
You are gay, yes. So am I. So are a hell of a lot of people. But we are whole. Being gay is not a disability, rather something that we just are. Like it or not, this is the hand we were dealt and we have to make the best draw of the cards in order to win the game. We are far better off than a lot of people on this rock we call home.
You say "My right hand and a bit of indecent porn's far better than anything else anyway." It's not you know. Whatever hold John had on you at age 13 must have been very powerful indeed. It couldn't have been the way he treated you though, since to him you didn't exist. But whatever the hold was, he created a pair of "blinders" on you so that you have spent the better part of your life focusing on him alone and oblivious to everyone else.The right person for you could have been standing right beside you jumping up and down to get your attention and you wouldn't have even seen him. I think this may have been because every guy you see, you compare (subconsciously anyway) to John. Time to ask yourself if he was really worth 40+ years of anguish.
There are a lot of people on this earth Tim, and if you lift the blinders for a while, I am sure you will see them. Some are good, some bad, but once you sort out the chafe I am sure you can do better than the right hand and porn... not that it is a bad thing, and we all use it at times, but nothing compares to the warmth and touch of a real human being.
Yes, it does get better. I am not just using the catchphrase loosely here, because it indeed does. But as Ty here has found out, the "getting better" part doesn't just happen while you sit in the corner and watch. It requires active participation from all of us. We are masters of our own destiny, and with a little courage, internal fortitude, desire, determination and help from our friends, it gets better because we MAKE it better.
Thank you for this site and everything you have done with it Tim. Be gay. Be yourself. Continue to make a difference. See the good people around you.
*HUG*
-Peter
I prefer guys that don't come in a box.
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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It's not even about the mythical creature that I turned him into. Nor is it about making it better. It is better. I have a fine life with almost everything anyone could want. That is something I made.
Just sometimes things all conspire together to make a great life feel bleak and empty. I never know when to expect it. There are no warning signs. It's always a little better than it was the previous time. I'm not a depressive type, I'm an obsessive type. At times the difference for me is small, but it is significant.
Reality: I am a gay man, I live in a heterosexual marriage with a beautiful wife whom I adore, which is a paradox. I have a good house, I live in a beautiful place, I have sufficient money for a pleasant lifestyle, I am accepted as I am, though folk find a married gay man a perplexing thing. But I would not want to be gay if I had been given the choice at thirteen. It was an awful, terrible, terrifying shock. However good the feelings were they were fiendishly awful too.
But my life and my desires are not congruent. I know I am not heterosexual in any way. I love my wife. She is beautiful, she has a great female figure, and I can function sexually out of love, not out of lust. I love her and we are together, and we will stay together. But I crave the arms of a man. And yet that man has to live up to impossible standards, the ones I created and imbued into the mythical creature that unanswered unrequited love gave John. Living up to my view of perfection, the view I created... that is impossible. And I will not have it anyway, because I love my wife too much to consider anything else.
So, when it all hits me in the face, a thing it does less and less frequently nowadays, a thing that coming out has helped, when I get the slap in the face from it, I have nowhere to turn. And so I see why that awesome young man in NYC chose death. At that point I want it all to be over. Luckily I am too afraid of dying to kill myself. I'm not suicidal, I just want the pain to stop. There's a difference. I know I cam make it stop. I know that, in a few days, my sun will rise. And I have too much to look forward to. All that stops me from killing myself.
I have made it better. I never, not once, believed that it just gets better by sitting in my increasingly plump arse and waiting. I started the process in about 1996. I found the net. The porn cemented my knowledge that I am gay. Boys in school showers are naked boys. They are a curiosity. Erect penises and men enjoying men in porn are erotic.
I have worked so hard to shed my obsession and I have turned it from obsession with perfection to a recognition that I created the boy I loved. The only hold he had on me was the one I created in my head. I created an illusion, much like a religion, and he was my imaginary shelter in times of trouble, not that he ever had any idea. I very much doubt I will ever not love him, though sometimes I hate him. But neither of those emotions are about the real person.
I'm rational, you see. And yet I always was rational. I was just someone who created a wonderful, glorious and horrible obsession and who hurt himself so very badly by doing so. And I started it in 1965. Most of the anguish left me a couple of years back. I spent a long part of my life living the dream that he might love me one day. That was the 40+ years of anguish. Today I get a few days every so often.
I often wonder why no-one ever made a pass at me at school, and then I realise that they probably did. And I never saw because I was obsessed by one boy who was neither perfect nor particularly good looking. And yet I can list by name all the boys I ever found attractive back then. Had it been one of those I now I would have noticed. Today the man standing beside me may be attractive, and today I would notice, but I don't allow myself to notice.
Be clear about this. I have created the box I have placed myself inside. For good or ill it is my box. Normally I am content. But, sometimes, things get to me. This time it's not just the teenage suicides, but it's people like Clint McCance, people like Tony Perkins (google the bigot), the Taliban christians, those who are so numerous that tell me I am abnormal. I'm in there fighting, in my way. And, trust me, whatever those here who wear blinkers say, it is a war. Logic against bigotry. But the weapon that kills is bigotry.
So today, that is better than yesterday. But it still hurts, and I still do not want to be gay. I want the life with different highs, different lows, that heterosexual me would have had. However good this one is, right now it isn't.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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I want to cheer you up, Timmy. Please don't take any of this amiss.
I don't know why I have it so much better than you, but I feel I do. Maybe it is because I've never tried to pretend to myself or my wife that I'm not homosexual (maybe a little bit bi). You have stopped pretending quite recently. I suspect that you expected that public acceptance of it would kill off the demons and remove the anguish. I think it will, but not in a year or two. It takes longer.
I wonder whether it is easier for those of us who were unable to restrain ourselves and who yielded to temptation when young. It certainly would make it harder to pretend to oneself that one was a normal heterosexual but that doesn't seem to be a good reason why one's homosexual desires and actions would be more acceptable to oneself.
But, like you, I'm gay and married and faithful and unlike you I seem to be able to accept it and my relationships without anguish. I hope I don't come across as insufferably smug. I'm still friends with the guy I fell in love with in my first term at Oxford. Do you think self-integration is the answer? Maybe it's a family thing: my elder daughter is still friends with nearly all of her ex-partners. And so am I; I get pictures of their children and so on. One of them lives in Melbourne, Oz!
One has to reconcile the incompatible desires and behaviour of the parts of one's personality and when all of you accepts all of it at least the internal warring may end. And every fight reduces it.
Someone said it gets better. I hope that goes for you too.
Love,
Anthony
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Yes, how kind life would be if all was black and white, but the glory of living is in wonderful warm shades of gray.
I don't see your life as surrounded by a box, Timmy. Black and white require a box, the religious folk are eternally trapped in that box. But you have opened your mind to the possibilities that life is not always just one thing, you are many things and those of us who keep coming back here see you in that way.
Life is filled with regrets, but those must be viewed as learning experiences or they accomplish nothing. Like so many you and I question the reason we are gay, but then nature always plays the trump card and we cannot question why.
It's the reason I cannot accept religious folk of the Christian persuasion, they don't always get the nature angle on life. And yet we see some like the preacher Brody posted for "It Gets Better," there is a man who has good reason to question his faith for their view on LBGT people. He is outside that box, we need more like him.
We often seek to denegrate religion as they attack us as "immoral people." And yet they blindly accept that their vision of a God is the creator of everything, that includes us, we get that but they don't. That is why they say we have a choice, ignoring reality and scientific data. People who strictly follow their religion are the ones with a choice and they often choose badly.
In the fact that you married a lovely woman you made a choice. As you say there is love, and for so many reasons this was the right way for you to go. Marriage cannot make the other feelings go away, that was the part of life you did not choose. You are not black and white, just gloriously gray.
Age appears to be best in four things; old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read. (Sir Francis Bacon 1561-1626)
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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This may sound odd, but I never realised I was gay until 1996. I never pretended. I just never knew.
I would love to have yielded to temptation when young. I expect I'd have realised that I was gay.
I appreciate your good wishes. No-one's good wishes work, I'm afraid. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate them. I just have to work through this. It passes quicker each time it hits.
[Updated on: Mon, 01 November 2010 14:43]
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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I have saved replying until now. You see you made me smile. I have damp eyes over 'gloriousy gray'.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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kiwi
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Likes it here |
Location: New Zealand
Registered: August 2009
Messages: 317
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"This is the true joy in life; the being used for a purpose recognised by yourself as a mighty one". - George Bernard Shaw.
Maybe it doesn't always seem like it, but it's true nonetheless.
cheers
Commas matter - 'Party on Dudes' is not the same as 'Party on, Dudes'
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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The thing is, everybody here creates this mighty purpose in their own way.
I must admit I'm finding that quote heavy going in the understanding it stakes, though!
Always remember that this forum is created by the poster for each other, and mainly for those whose role is simply to read.
I hope everyone realises that we have been doing "It Gets Better" for years here.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Absolutely right, Timmy. You have been foremost in leading the "It Gets Better" campaign for a long time.
There is a special category of human, rarely recognized, often scoffed at. It goes far beyond being an intellectual and closer to the human condition than most. You are an empath. Someone who feels the pain of others and reacts in a positive way. I very much understand. It's what we do.
Age appears to be best in four things; old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read. (Sir Francis Bacon 1561-1626)
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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I am not alone.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Benji
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Likes it here |
Location: USA
Registered: August 2007
Messages: 297
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Hell no!!! You are not alone, the difference between you and me is the paradox you created, I avoided mine when I was 13, I was so affected with him I simply avoided him at all costs. How funny it was to find out at our 20th High School re-union that he never married. Still I avoided him, I too married a woman that I loved, and still do, and have never strayed in our 28 year marriage. But I know the truth, a zebra cannot change it's stripes, nor can I change what I am. Our differences? I knew I was gay when I was 13, hell I knew I liked boys when I was 9 years old, but did not understand it back then. I never acted on it until was 18, in the Marines and overseas in 'Nam. I came back to the states after the service and found my parents and society wanting me to get married. Which I did, thankfully to someone I actually loved, 28 years later I am still married to her, and have never strayed. But the the thing is .......... I'm still gay!
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More strength to your elbow, Benji. Me too in all important particulars - but I didn't feel sexual attraction or realise I am gay until I was 18. I got married at 28 and have never strayed as you put it.
But I'm still gay. And in my case happy with it. But I wasn't for many years.
Love,
Anthony
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I know sometimes I am looked at as a stick in the mud. At other times, i let my goofy side out and look like a complete idiot. I guess that comes with being the world's oldest living 12-year old.
However, after reading your post here and having a few days to think about it, I can only say, you're right.
I don't like being gay. Well, let me explain that better. I don't like being the recipient of what those that use the word gay in a derrogatory manner mean when they say gay. I love a male. I enjoy the company of males. I even enjoy watching other males. I find other males sexually exciting. I can't help it. It just is.
But when someone who isn't gay, or who isn't friendly or sympathetic to we who "happen to be" gay says that word, they have a really bad concept, both in the poor idea and just negative connotations of the words "bad concept." And yeah, that gets me down, too.
And then, we have all these dreadful losses. People just on the cusp of all that is good in life, that is good when you live and love the way you feel, killing themselves. It just rips the heart out of you. And for a moment, you think back to the crap you went through as a kid. You marvel that you made it at all.
I was in the closet, peeking out occassionally, but clutching like a madman to the door knob, for the better part of 20 years, if not longer. I knew I was different very young. I was playing with other little boys' boy parts whenever I could when I was 5 or 6, and even then I was secretive about it. In 5th grade, I was getting erections in class looking at other boys, especially in those furtive, corner of the eye views in the school washroom when stepping up to the urinals.
Yeah, think about that. 20 years. Fully half my life now. And now that I think about it, it's probably closer to 30 years. I hid in plain sight. I'd tell people that I didn't date because the girls around were all insane (okay, so perhaps that might not be too far out of bounds, I still think most females are somewhat bent between the ears). I used to claim illness when my buddies wanted to go to strip clubs. I'd get smashed at nightclubs in order to be fun while out with friends and to keep chicks who might be interested in me (er, right, like that'd happen!) from getting too touchy feely.
I dated. I didn't like it, but I did date. I even had a few live in girl friends. The results of those realtionships weren't really fair to the girls in question. I'm sure I am responsible for a few psychotic breaks, because of it.
I even contemplated suicide myself. That's not easy to admit. It was a very dark time in my life. My friend circle was small and distant. My lovelife was a shambles due to moving away. My parent's weren't exactly receptive to any emotional issues I had. My mom was recovering from a nasty back injury and on some impressive pain killers. My dad (RIP) was working two jobs and trying to lose weight to stay in the military. No one I knew was gay, anymore. My first true BF had to move away. I was 13, scared, confussed, constantly on the alert to keep from being outted.
In short, I was a mess. I played hockey. Hockey players have to be tough, they can't be gay. God forbid that I should accidentally slip and get caught "looking" while in the locker room. Talk about self control.
I had anger issues. I took out my rage and frustration on anyone and everyone. The boy, as they say, just wasn't right!
But, you soldier on. Sometimes you hide, you learn to blend into the background. Sometimes you bury your true feelings, you pray for the things you feel to just go away. You put on a brave face and do all the socially acceptable things.
And in doing so, you die a little, inside. You poison yourself. THankfully, I had sports and fencing to let my anger out. Luckily, I had boy scouts to give me a respect for nature and let me find a way to commune with it. I have since lost my faith in organized religion, but back then, I had that too, as something I could cling to. According to Chatholisism, God made us each as we are, to suit his will. And if God made me like I am, He had to have a good reason.
Can I honestly tell a young person out there that it gets better? I damn sure can. I may not have taken the direct route to living openly gay, but I can certainly say that there are lots of worse ways to do it. Even the term "openly gay" is sort of a misnomer. I mean, I live alone, in my one room apartment, with another man, and there is only one bed. The math is fairly simple. But I don't wander the sidewalks with rainbows streaking in my wake, sprinkling fairy dust and parading about in strange garb just to be different.
I'm gay. It is true. But I'm me. In my life, I don't need to call attention to the fact. I don't deny it either. More importantly, if asked, I'll tell. Mostly, it's just not other people's business. I'm gay, but that's only part of who I am.
I've hidden from the bullies, but even in hiding, somehow, some of them knew, even if they didn't know how accurate they were. My big mouth got me into trouble with bullies as well, but that's another story. So, I can see that it's not just on the bullies that some of this lies. I can see that some people might bring a lot of the attention onto themselves. Does that make bullying behaviors right? Hell no! Does it make it partly our own faults if we egg it on? Gotta think, yes. Just because we're the targets doesn't excuse our behavior if we bring it to our own doorsteps.
So, when you ask "what's the point, does it all get to you sometimes?" I have to say "Yeah, it sure the fuck does, my friend." When I think of all the time I've wasted trying to be "normal" and feeling miserable for it, all the energy I spent trying to be what everyone wanted me to be, all the things that I SOOOOo wanted to do and I sacrificed my own happiness chasing other people's dreams while mine lay dashed on the pavement.... Yeah, Timmy, it gets to me.
But just like we're telling these kids, it gets better. And like we're telling those of us who might be contemplating the final walk alone, it can get better. And like I tell anyone who still has regrets about their life, much as I do, there's only one way for it to get better.
You grab the thing that's messing you up, spin in place a few times, scream at the top of your lungs and pitch it as far away as you can! You get over it by getting rid of it. You take back the space in your heart that someone or something else has taken up and dragged you down and just say "the hell with it!" And then you take back your heart, your life, your soul, despite the ache, and you get on with it. You make a plan and then you go.
Easy enough to say, right? It just takes a lifetime. Just like anything else worth doing. And let's be honest, we choose the burdens we carry. You get some from sources beyond your control, but other's we choose. And when you don't want to carry them anymore, well, sometimes you have to be hard. Sometimes you just say "fuck it," and leave it behind.
It gets to me, Tim. Maybe you can draw a little strength from that. It gets to all of us. But, it's not anything we can change. We are gay. So we all have to do the same thing, brother. Kick back and enjoy the ride. May not know completely where we're going yet, but the ups mean nil without the downs.
What do you guys think? I've been wrong before. What's your take?
It's not the wolf you see you should fear, but all the ones he howls with. Don't be afraid of the song, but don't piss off the choir.
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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I know where you are coming from. What surprises me is not what you feel, nor what I feel, but the paucity of replies.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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ray2x
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Really getting into it |
Location: USA
Registered: April 2009
Messages: 429
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You cannot be alone with this great wonderful community of gay men and married gay men and fabulous writers of gay literature. I don't hop onto the site as often as I did or as I can yet it is in my mind. I often lurk on the sidelines just to catch up to the issues, jokes and movies. I finally got the message that I am gay at 50 years old. It was the best evening when I did so and it was due to this community you created. Maybe being a good person is what you're aspiring everyone to be, then being gay is just as good. It's certainly honorable to be both. Feel the hurt but know that this living breathing community will be there. You created that.
Raymundo
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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I can quite see why that gets to any rational person.
The USA, as it heads towards what appears to be inevitable fascism, is to be feared.
But this isn't quite what I had in mind in this thread.
[Updated on: Fri, 05 November 2010 09:23]
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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But you can.
At the top of the hill, I was alone.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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...is often alone, at first. But you see farther. Not necessarily better, certainly not great details, but you do see more of what is to come, and from which quarter.
I once likened this blog to a lighthouse. We often forget that the light house keeper might be all alone on his island, keeping his light on, warning others of dangerous waters ahead.
But lighthouses are more than just for lighting the way. They serve as points of reference for navigation. IN that way, I guess we're all lighthouses, all alone on the various hills, signaling each other and guiding others through treacherous ways.
It's an obligation I take on willingly, and if there were ways I could directly do more, I would. For now, like so many lighthouses, I'll keep the lamp lit and help strangers stay safe as best I can.
Then again, I am completely nuts, so traveler beware! heheheeh
[Updated on: Fri, 05 November 2010 15:22]
It's not the wolf you see you should fear, but all the ones he howls with. Don't be afraid of the song, but don't piss off the choir.
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Yep, it does, D'Artagnon.
Love,
Anthony
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Does it all sometimes get to you? 
Re: Does it all sometimes get to you? 
Re: Does it all sometimes get to you? 
He that keepeth watch upon the hill.... 