I Quit

I quit my job.

Well, one of my jobs to be more exact. It was liberating. I felt free. Unstoppable.

Ok, maybe I didn’t feel that great but I did feel some sort of relief. I didn’t call. I didn’t show up. In a way it felt like skipping school. At times, I thought to myself, at this part of the day I would be doing this certain thing at work.

When my mother woke up and saw me laid in bed she asked me if my alarms had not gone off. Or if I just hadn’t felt well enough to go to work. I told her no, I quit.

You should have seen her face. I’ve never seen someone so happy to hear those words, I quit. She smiled a warm smile placed her hand on my knee. She even told me that with God everything is possible and not to worry about bills.

I know I don’t like my moms religious side. But that comment. Those words, just got to me. I felt good. I felt great about quitting. Who said quitters never win? I had won.

I did call my former employer (feels good to say that). I told them I would no longer be coming in. The manager told me matter-of-factly, “oh, we figured that.”

That was sort of rude. I guess it showed how much I hated being there. There are something’s that are just to hard to fake.

Will I miss any coworkers there? Probably not. I didn’t get too close to anyone. I tried not to. Why get attached when your going to leave them in the past? I know I’ll be the hot topic for a while though. I know I would have been talking smack if someone quit all of a sudden as I did.

So here’s to a new journey. Less stress. And less micromanagement.

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My Filthy Ungodly Homosexual Life

This past weekend my uncle and aunt came to visit. They don’t live close so every chance they get when they pass by or are in town they come to visit. They live about two hours away. There’s something that bugs me though every time they come.

They are very religious and he is an Elder. (Which is like a big deal in the church world). We are technically in the same religion as they are but I haven’t came out yet. Though on the side in secret I live my filthy, ungodly, homosexual life. They don’t know that. You could say that it’s kind of like two life’s kind of thing but don’t judge me because you’re not in my shoes and it’s easier to point fingers.

Anyway, this happens every time but this time it was more than usual. God hates fags. Well, that’s not what they actually said but that was the message they relayed or at least what I understood.

I don’t know how it started but someone commented on how Satan (the devil don’t know if you know him but he lives underground apparently tormenting gay souls) is trying to bring everyone to “the dark side” and how we have to be more careful then ever in these times of oversexual lust days.

Then they said how (in their tiny tiny town) some young teen left the religion because of his degrading and unnatural ways. (In other words he was gay y’all). He was expelled from church and asked never to return until he changed his ways. Seeing as it’s a small town the news was huge.

Of course everyone in the church was like yeah that’s what you get for sipping from the cup of the devil. And everyone else in town was praising the guy for coming out and finding him self . Having the courage to stand up for him self and leave!

That’s why they were upset. Not that he was gay after all. No, it was the fact that he was praised for leaving. I remember my aunt saying, “now if you come out you’re a hero. You’re applauded. It’s not like it used to be.” But, the way she said it. She sounded as her world had fallen apart. As if a part of her soul was being ripped from her. As if all humanity had just come to an end.

But what do they know?

Do they know how it’s like to grow up different? Do they know what it’s like to have feelings you’ve been told since you were five are wrong? Do they know what it’s like sitting through thousands of speeches and hearing God will never love you? Do they know how it feels when you’re being condemned for something you didn’t chose? Do they know how hard it is lying everyday that you are someone you’re not? Do they know how hard it is to struggle with something like this out side of the home and still come home to the same thing? Do they know how much strength it takes every single day to not give up? Do they?

No, they don’t.

My Story

             I have been putting a lot of thought into whether or not I should write this. I came to the conclusion that I should. Not because it has ‘‘gotten better”, but, because I feel like I just need to get it out of me. I feel that if it comes out, even in writing, it will be out. It’s not an easy matter to talk about. And it took me quite a while to actually sit down and write about it. After I decided I would write about it, I procrastinated sitting down and actually doing. When you try to remember the past, and it’s not pretty, you can only take so much at a time. But here it is;

             I grew up in a religion where I was taught that taking ones life would result in disconnecting with God. In other words, it was like giving a back-handed slap to the face of God since he was the creator of life and was the only one who deserved to give and take of it. As a child I always wondered why someone would ever come to that terrible decision. It wouldn’t fit in my little kid brain why someone would just want to die. I heard of people killing themselves when I was young but I never fully grasped the meaning of it until I got older.

            I do now. Even though I’m writing this I can’t fully say that I am completely over self harming. I can’t say that I have no more suicidal thoughts. I have though, learned to control them.

             But how did it all start? Well, I never really knew I was different. Yes I remember buying sparkling shoes that I got made fun of because they were “girly”, but that had nothing to do with my sexuality. At least I didn’t think so. I just knew that one day I would grow up, marry, and have kids. That was so ironic seeing as I didn’t want to get married or have kids.

             Back to my religion though, I grew up in this religion where you had to live your life exactly how the Bible said you should. (Jehovah Witness). It isn’t as hard as people think it is. It’s not to bad, and maybe I would have had some great teen years if I hadn’t turned out to be fucking gay. That pretty much ruined my life. Not completely, but enough. It’s one of the main causes of my pain if I’m brutally honest. Still to this day.

             I hate when people say “it gets better.” No it fucking does not. It hasn’t for me at least. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself? But at the end of the tunnel I see no light, I see no fucking tunnel.  But then again, maybe that’s me getting ahead of my self and my “better times” have yet to come.

             Anyway, I was in and out of this religion. I would go with a passion and then I would hate it with a passion. I never really made up my mind. Not even today. Today I just go, not for me or anyone else but for my mom. It makes her happy that I’m there and that makes me happy.

             I “came to terms” with my sexually on Nov 17th of 2010. That’s the day that I said I’m Gay. Before then I had never actually said it out loud. I knew I was but I didn’t want to say it out loud. I thought maybe if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be true. Sometimes I thought I could change being gay, but it never worked. That was the actual first time that those words came out of my mouth. In that order, “I’m gay.”

             I remember going on-line and searching ‘Gay Jehovah Witness.’ I had the impression that I was the only one in this religion in the whole world who was gay. I was wrong. After looking past many articles that threw shade and dirt at JW’s for not accepting the gays, I found an article about Tim. He was also a JW. Grew up in the same religion and his father was actually an Elder (People who are like pastors). There was an email address and I emailed him. Telling him how hard it was for me because I was gay and I was scared to come out because so many people would be disappointed, and ultimately I would be disowned felt good. Plus, at that time I had no legal status so how would I even fend for my self?

             I loved my mother too much to break her heart that way. But Tim said it was all too much for him so one day he almost took his life, well actually tried but didn’t succeed. He said he had to change his life after he tried killing himself. He couldn’t take it any longer so he left the religion. I understand his decision. But I was not yet there (still am not) and even though it was extremely hard I still was not even close to the thought of taking my life. We would email back and forth and it was encouraging to have some one to talk to who understood. Then, he stopped.

            That crushed my heart. But I guess he got bored or maybe had more important things on his mind than helping out a seventeen year old across the world he didn’t even know. I knew was getting married and was moving so maybe that’s why but still, could have said something.

            Of course being in the religion that I was in and also being gay wasn’t going to work out. So I left. I stopped going and it broke my mother’s heart. I was still the same person nothing changed. I just didn’t act any more gayer. I didn’t go to pride. I didn’t hook up with every guy in town. I just simply stopped going to church. I was the same old me.

             I don’t know what made me go back. Maybe because I never found love? Or deep down I hated myself for being gay when I knew it was wrong? Not sure. But months when I returned in the summer of 2011, my uncle and aunt asked if we wanted to spend the summer with them.  (Take in mind that they too were JW’s). My brother and I said yes of course. They lived in our home town where I grew up and it was a beautiful town, I cherished that town.

             So I went to the congregation there. While I went there, I was being pressured into dating. Who I liked would always arise in a conversation. I finally gave in and picked someone. A girl I knew since I was little.

             It’s funny at the time I felt straight. Or possibly thought I could be. I can honestly say that I thought I was, right then and there. Deep down I knew I was gay, but I was faking it all so well that I almost started to believe it myself.

             The girl that I ‘liked’ had an ex boyfriend who was tragically messed up. I think he was bipolar. (Now I think I am). He once wrote the name of a girl on his arm with scissors. That didn’t surprise us because we kind of all knew he was cutting himself. Everyone told him to stop and they got him help. I thought that was ridiculous and immature not knowing that I would be following the same footsteps.

             Summer ended and the day after I left town I told that girl I liked liked her. She said the same thing but didn’t know if I felt the same way. How cute. Wrong. We soon started dating. Long distance dating. Wasn’t that cleaver? We broke up about seven months after. I was the one to end it. I told her I “needed time.” But the truth was that I just couldn’t take it anymore. Guys still would look appealing to me. I did love her though. I don’t know in what way. But it really hurt when we stopped talking. There was something missing in me now. She was my first love.

              From there it was just a spiral of hate. My life wasn’t going too well and I had to deal with the fact that I was gay. I played the happy guy for so long until I couldn’t take it. There was so much pain. I didn’t want to feel it. I was jogging that night. In our back yard. I was so overwhelmed that I just got on the ground and started crying. I was so mad on how my life was turning out to be. The next ting I knew I was picking up a rock and sliding it along my arm. It felt as all the pain was running out of the fresh wound.  For the first time in a long time I didn’t feel pain inside, I felt it on the outside. A minor distraction fooling my brain into a better state of mind.

            I didn’t think about it. Maybe I wanted to know what it felt like? Maybe I was curious? Maybe it was the feeling of wanting to touch fire but knowing you were going to get burned anyway. It was like that feeling you get when something isn’t working so you bang it on the side to make it work, like an old static TV. I knew it was wrong but I still did it. In a way it made me feel better. Like I was in control of the pain and the pain stopped controlling me.

             After that the thought of suicide would come and go for me. I always thought of ways I could end my life but I could never go through with them because I always thought of my mom and brother. Who would look after them? Who would protect them? Who would guide them? What would they do when I was gone? What would their reactions be? These questions only added to the already huge pile of stress I had. So it was more like a game. Did I want a painless death? Or did I want to feel pain? How did I want to be found? Who would find me? I am such an over analyzer that I was even over analyzing my own suicide! How pathetic. Well, I guess that’s why I’m still here, right?

             I got in to the habit of measuring how suicidal I felt. Some days it was 25% others it was 75%. When it was high I made sure I stayed away from sharp things because it seemed that I would go deeper. And in all of my scenarios, death in a pool of blood never seemed to suit me.

             One time, and the only time, I had been at 85% I  had self harmed my wrist really noticeable. I had to work the next day and a coworker saw. Her name was Jessica. She asked me what happened. I had wristbands on. Twenty One Pilots. I said nothing and just continued working like it didn’t bother me. She didn’t ask again. A month later I quit so I never saw her. She probably still works there. Her seeing my cuts didn’t make me quit.

             I’m pretty sure a lot of people noticed. I think Eli noticed once but never really paid attention or just waved it off, not sure if jenny ever did. I think Hellen did once, on my knee. She asked what where those scrathes I just told her I played to rough with my dog. Did anyone else say anything? No.

             I haven’t self harmed for almost nine months now. That’s only because I’m getting a tattoo removed and I read that having cuts or bruises will take the body’s focus away from helping eliminate the tattoo. I get an overwhelming urge but I always see my tattoo on my arm and how much I want it gone. At first it was hard to resist. But I soon got over it little by little. Hopefully I will never go back but that feeling will always be there.

             Maybe I’m bipolar. Maybe life as made me this way. Maybe I have made me this way. I see people go through shit and still have a smile on their face. Then again I don’t know what they do when they get home. Maybe they to self harm. In different ways. Drinking, smoking, hurting others. That’s the same as self harm. Inflicting pain somewhere else so the present pain will subside, but it never does, does it?

              So, that’s pretty much it. I am almost twenty-three years old and still haven’t come to terms with almost any part of my life. It’s weird. Because when I see a girl and I really like her personality I do think, wow she would make a great wife, or, I wonder what it would be like to date her.  So maybe I’m bisexual? Pan-sexual? It doesn’t really matter. My sexuality doesn’t defined me. Plus, would I even want to date anyone knowing all the shit my life as turned into? Yeah, they would have to be some type of super human to put up with me. Plus all the world wants is sex, and I just want to be held and taken care of.

Anyway there it is. The truth, raw, candid, and straight to the point.

It Will Change Us Forever

Dear Journal,

These past few days have been a little rough. I’m not going to lie its really hard (this cancer thing). I’m trying my best to stay strong and be positive in front of everyone, but I know soon as I don’t find way to relax and let out my despair I feel like I’ll turn into a ticking time bomb.

This Friday I talked to my boss,  and another supervisor. Originally I just wanted my boss to know but its good that she knows just as well, since she will ask questions either way when she notices my change in work habits or absences.

Like any other supporting humans they felt sorry. He (the manager) said he had my full support in what ever I needed. Of course I don’t really need much from him since he is just my boss. All I need from him is the approval to leave early on days in which is necessary. I also informed him that I didn’t want to abuse of his authority that’s why I had to talk to him about it.

I told my best friend. He took it well. I know he will be some sort of anchor for me. Someone I can talk to about everything. He’s eighteen so of course the wisdom he will provide me with will not be that of gran experience but his support will do more or me than he will ever know.

My mom’s ex boyfriend knows as well. He said he’s going to do anything in his power to help us get through this. His brothers wife had breast cancer and uterus cancer. She is a survivor and gave my mom a lot of tips of what she is going to go through and what she can do to make this experience  not so bad.

Other than that we haven’t told anyone and mainly it’s because my mom doesn’t want to make a big deal about it. We will tell friends and family first. Then our church. Yes, we are religious. Me, I would consider myself a stray even though I go every Sunday. I never applied anything to my life but I liked going. I was thinking though that it is sad that when we are in trouble we tend to look at God for help. Yet, when we are doing fine we act like there is no God. I don’t like that feeling. That’s why the last time I was in trouble and I looked to him I said I would stay by His side but I did stray anyway. Not enough to not go to church but enough to not be fully there.

All that’s left to do know is wait and see where this journey will take us. It’s not going to be fun, I know. I will struggle, it will change us all for ever, no matter what the outcome will be. I lost two friends in the beginning of the year and have gotten closer to another. My job is OK for now, I just hope we all have the strength to keep moving forward.

 

 

3/19/2017