Home > Life or something like it > Entry 08/11/2007 08:25:09 AM – Mentat 348

Entry 08/11/2007 08:25:09 AM – Mentat 348

08/11/2007
     …Continuing from the last journal entry…

     There have been a couple of things that have been bothering me since the disaster of a trip to Boston to meeting Frank that has routinely been in the back of my mind, but has made it’s way to the forefront.  One of the things that I had spoken to Frank’s partner on had to do with the amount of damage queerfolk go through surviving in this life as we know it.  From the camouflaging and shade used to hide oneself and survive against oppression and persecution, from the prejudice and homophobia both from the outside and from within, and from the amount of self-destruction some often put themselves through because of peer pressure, or personal self-loathing.  From drinking through to alcoholism, to recreational drugs through to drug abuse.  And that’s just the extreme cases.  My ex Rick, for example, only started on the drinking later on, but the self-abuse he put himself through the first three years was pretty damned terrifying to the relatively normal or sane. 

     On the one side, I’ve been very fortunate in that I’ve avoided the influence as well as the siren call of alcohol and recreational drugs; having learned early on from drinking back in my early tweens that while it’s rather fun at the moment — the side effects afterwards really just aren’t worth it.  On the other though, given that I’ve survived being raped, and the years of emotional and mental abuse in staying together with Rick, it’s amazing that I’ve kept my head and my wits about myself at all.  Friends and acquaintances assure me that I’m put back together, and don’t appear to as screwed up as I sometimes feel, but I admit that there are times when I don’t believe that, and oftentimes wait to see whether it’s just a good sham I’m putting up for the world. 
     Yet, when I’m faced with this in other people, god how quick it is for me to clam up, pull away, and want as little to do with those kind of folk as possible.  Frank is a damned good example of this — particularly in the way that I felt that he backstabbed me.  Looking back at the e-mail that I had written, sure it’s pretty obvious at the way I wrote what I wrote that I was hurt and surprised; but knowing what I was feeling at that moment, I realize I had totally shut down emotionally when faced with the feeling of backstabbing that I had gotten when I read that e-mail. 
     It’s not the first time I’ve found myself completely shutting down emotionally when faced with similar instances since Rick and I had gone our separate ways.  I did the same thing when it came to Joey and that rather tumultuous on/off online relationship that we had gone through — particularly given that I had called it off on Valentine’s Day the next year after Rick and I had broken up.  And while I might not have emotionally shut down when Will and I had parted, I remember that the year afterwards, when I got home after going down to see him (March 2006), I had shut down several times because of the pain that I was feeling of having taken the risk and it not going the way that I wanted. 
     This emotionally shutting down concerns me.  Because I find it particularly disturbing that instead of allowing myself to feel the anger, the grief, the sadness, or even the heartache — I stop myself from it in order to wait until I can better handle it — and when the opportunity does in fact come up, I’ve pretty much repressed it and moved on to something else.  It’s definitely not a healthy way of handling the emotional situation. 

     As an afterthought, I do have to say that I did finally recover from the heartache and the heartbreak that I suffered from seeing and saying good-bye to Will.  But it wasn’t the release that I had gone through with Tommy’s passing, or my breaking up with Darin.  It was a simple parting for me then.  The kind that comes from accepting and understanding things were out of my hands, and nothing else emotionally.  I quite literally picked myself up, dusted myself off, nodded, and carried on with life. 

     So, it’s Saturday morning…  After much soul searching, and thinking about some of the things that make me withdraw and avoid, I realize that I’ve been spending entirely too much time focusing on the negatives and the horrors that I’ve experienced and much of the drama and dysfunction in other people that make me retreat.  But have I actually talked all that much about those things that engage me?  That make me come out of my shell? 
     No. 

     So that’s what I’ve got in store for me for the next entry.  Right now, I need to get to sleep.  Until the next time. 

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