WTF people... This is 2010. We have liberated women, the slaves have been freed and elevated to equality... We have fought wars to end wars... but we can not keep our children safe. Speaking as one who suffered and survived years of taunts, jeers, and bullying I can SO relate to the despair, feelings of hopelessness, and thoughts of suicide.
I grew up in a mixed religious home. My father was a 'recovering Catholic', Mother (is) Church of Christ, equal if not worse than Southern Baptist... Neither of my parents had any sympathy for a sensitive closeted homo son. My family isn't big on originality. We seem to be related to lemmings. We followed the herd and did "the right thing" which, speaking for myself was NOT my idea.
This is the first time in my 48 years that I have spoken about my dark terminal thoughts as a young teen... Even though my blog doesn't seem to have much of a following I feel that if it impacts just one person I will have succeeded.
I was always one of the tallest kids. I was a meek child and mother beat into my brother and I that fighting was unacceptable for any reason (yes even self defense) Turn the cheek, she would say. It didnt stick with my scrappy little brother, but it did with me. I was all about doing what was right and mom seemed to be the authority on what that was... With my father we either got a beating, yelling, or a grunt... he was of no help.
I can tell you that I got my ass kicked allot once the kids found out that I was easy prey. I was called Faggot before I knew what it was so I went into denial. Things got worse in the 6th grade when I began my Orthodontic treatments... yep... mouth full of braces. Joining the band that year didn't help my image either, and on top of all this, Mother dressed us funny.
Being a bright but tormented kid did nothing for my academic pursuits. For all those years I was preoccupied by two issues... One, the prevention of getting my ass kicked... Two, finally realizing that I liked boys and trying to understand what that was all about. I was utterly alone. Due to my self defense mechanism of isolation, I had no friends to talk with about what I was going through. School counselors are a JOKE and a waste of money... well back then anyway. Couldn't talk to mom, being gay was WRONG and the preacher said I would "burn in hell".
My father was as only good for an ass whippin with that 2" wide leather belt, or a good belittling dress-down, his message was always very clear. In his words, I was "a panty-waste". I defined that phrase to mean I was a pussy and totally worthless. Even the few playmates I had were held at arms length afraid they would turn on me.
When I turned 16 in 1978, my father was gearing up to buy a new truck. His old one was made available to me like this... "I'm getting a new truck, you can buy it or I will trade it in." I bought it for the $800 he declared it was worth and he insured that I made the proper payments using his usual Nazi style...
By now I'm a mobile 16 yr old homo... still dealing with issue #2, thankfully issue #1 dissipated... I suppose that my tormentors didn't think I was worth the energy any more.
Up to this point I've had thoughts of suicide, and to be honest the only reason why I didn't try was out of fear. Not fear of ending my life but rather being the person my father said I was... Worthless and someone that couldn't do anything right. I was afraid of surviving and having to face the old man and explain. So ironically... I survived because of my torment and being a coward and because I was strong enough to defy popular opinion. I was worth it and I was valuable in ways no one saw. I was valuable to me.
In closing I need to let you know that I am ok now. I'm stable and un-medicated. I'm conservative. I'm out but cautious. I got married in the 80's (to a beautiful but horrible woman) in an attempt to "do the right thing" which resulted in the only one good thing, fatherhood. I have successfully raised my son with out his mother. (for those of you wondering, he is straight but not narrow)
Bottom line... The "right thing" is basically a good way to live but you must decide for yourself what that "right thing" is. I lived by what my mothers idea of it was, and it caused much grief and years of self loathing. If I had a confidant growing up I may have decided much earlier that mother's Church of Christ "right thing" was contrary to my well being and self worth. Yes I survived... many before and many since did not.
IT DOES GET BETTER...
TALK WITH SOMEONE...
and I can not stress it enough when I say
-----YOU ARE WORTH IT-----
I grew up in a mixed religious home. My father was a 'recovering Catholic', Mother (is) Church of Christ, equal if not worse than Southern Baptist... Neither of my parents had any sympathy for a sensitive closeted homo son. My family isn't big on originality. We seem to be related to lemmings. We followed the herd and did "the right thing" which, speaking for myself was NOT my idea.
This is the first time in my 48 years that I have spoken about my dark terminal thoughts as a young teen... Even though my blog doesn't seem to have much of a following I feel that if it impacts just one person I will have succeeded.
I was always one of the tallest kids. I was a meek child and mother beat into my brother and I that fighting was unacceptable for any reason (yes even self defense) Turn the cheek, she would say. It didnt stick with my scrappy little brother, but it did with me. I was all about doing what was right and mom seemed to be the authority on what that was... With my father we either got a beating, yelling, or a grunt... he was of no help.
I can tell you that I got my ass kicked allot once the kids found out that I was easy prey. I was called Faggot before I knew what it was so I went into denial. Things got worse in the 6th grade when I began my Orthodontic treatments... yep... mouth full of braces. Joining the band that year didn't help my image either, and on top of all this, Mother dressed us funny.
Being a bright but tormented kid did nothing for my academic pursuits. For all those years I was preoccupied by two issues... One, the prevention of getting my ass kicked... Two, finally realizing that I liked boys and trying to understand what that was all about. I was utterly alone. Due to my self defense mechanism of isolation, I had no friends to talk with about what I was going through. School counselors are a JOKE and a waste of money... well back then anyway. Couldn't talk to mom, being gay was WRONG and the preacher said I would "burn in hell".
My father was as only good for an ass whippin with that 2" wide leather belt, or a good belittling dress-down, his message was always very clear. In his words, I was "a panty-waste". I defined that phrase to mean I was a pussy and totally worthless. Even the few playmates I had were held at arms length afraid they would turn on me.
When I turned 16 in 1978, my father was gearing up to buy a new truck. His old one was made available to me like this... "I'm getting a new truck, you can buy it or I will trade it in." I bought it for the $800 he declared it was worth and he insured that I made the proper payments using his usual Nazi style...
By now I'm a mobile 16 yr old homo... still dealing with issue #2, thankfully issue #1 dissipated... I suppose that my tormentors didn't think I was worth the energy any more.
Up to this point I've had thoughts of suicide, and to be honest the only reason why I didn't try was out of fear. Not fear of ending my life but rather being the person my father said I was... Worthless and someone that couldn't do anything right. I was afraid of surviving and having to face the old man and explain. So ironically... I survived because of my torment and being a coward and because I was strong enough to defy popular opinion. I was worth it and I was valuable in ways no one saw. I was valuable to me.
In closing I need to let you know that I am ok now. I'm stable and un-medicated. I'm conservative. I'm out but cautious. I got married in the 80's (to a beautiful but horrible woman) in an attempt to "do the right thing" which resulted in the only one good thing, fatherhood. I have successfully raised my son with out his mother. (for those of you wondering, he is straight but not narrow)
Bottom line... The "right thing" is basically a good way to live but you must decide for yourself what that "right thing" is. I lived by what my mothers idea of it was, and it caused much grief and years of self loathing. If I had a confidant growing up I may have decided much earlier that mother's Church of Christ "right thing" was contrary to my well being and self worth. Yes I survived... many before and many since did not.
The basic message here is simple
YOU ARE NOT ALONE...IT DOES GET BETTER...
TALK WITH SOMEONE...
and I can not stress it enough when I say
-----YOU ARE WORTH IT-----
http://www.thetrevorproject.org/
http://youthfirsttexas.org/
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