Waking the Sleeping Lion

Is it me, or does this draw a striking resemblance to the latest incarnation of Lion-O from Cartoon Network's Thudercats? Maybe I'm just twisted. This certain ain't Thundera or Third Earth!

What Is It?

My blood is running ice cold and tiny pin pricks, shivers, are running up and down my spine. Butterflies are in my stomach, fluttering away, threatening to bring up breakfast. Oh Lawd! I'm trying to front; pretend there's nothing wrong. Oh far from the truth that lie is!!!

Tonight, my past catches up with me. Whether it's in a good way or bad way remains to be seen. Being home, I've been confronted left and right with old demons; issues long thought to be laid to rest. Guess not. Well, I'm a man now (in theory)... time to put the big boy undies on, put away those fears, and act like I got something swinging between my thighs. "Just Do It!"

Here's the reason for my trepidation. A good friend from high school turns 40 today. Recently we were lucky enough to reconnect through Facebook. Word got back through the old neighborhood I'm home and his moms caught up with me the other day. His family generously invited me to a large soiree they're having to celebrate this milestone birthday. At first, I was like "color me there" in my attitude. We hadn't seen each other for almost a decade, had fell outta touch. But then harsh insecurity reared it's head up from the depths.

"Yo Ian. Who the hell you foolin' Ain't nobody wanna see your faggot ass!"

That stopped me cold. Really? I've been keepin' low profile here. As I've mentioned being back home in parent's home, back in the old haunt, has been less than welcoming. Too many demons decided it time to take advantage of my sitch. "He's at a low point physically, let's attack him emotionally, then he's ours." Being back in my old home, my old childhood neighborhood, where so much negative shit went down, where some much of my young spirit was traumatized... well you have to gimme a lil leeway.

Here I have a great opportunity to reconnect, at the heart of the issue remains differences. Time to "come out" once again to somebody. Sigh. So tired of having to justify or explain myself. Unfortunately, Pat is on the long list of folk who don't know the deal. Now you're probably thinkin' to yourselves, "Oh please Ian, anybody who know you gotta know by now." True dat. Naturally, I go by that assumption too. Don't most people recognize by how I talk or my mannerisms, that I'm not batting for the Philadelphia Heterosexual Ball Club? Then again, people are prone to see what they wanna see.

What shouldn't be a big deal, is for me. I've never been one to deal well with confrontation, avoid it as much as possible. The subject of how I'm attracted to shouldn't come up, but I must admit, in a sports bar filled with heterosexual straight guys, not only do I feel awkward but also intimidated as well. On a whole, I generally prefer being around women and other gay/bisexual men. Old anxieties surface whenever there's prolonged exposure with straight men. I recognized most this anxiety comes from the sexual abuse, molestation and ridicule from childhood peers, and believe me, I've worked on these issues. I have. But then again, these are strange people in an unfamiliar situation. I'm nervous in the service, boys!

Oh and now I feel ashamed for feeling shamed. Internalized homophobia is such a bitch. And I don't deny having my fair share of unresolved matters concerning my sexuality, but life unfolds on a gradual process. What time it took you to get comfortable with yourselves is different from mine as will be different for someone else. Just support, lift, and edify one another as we go on this journey.

My ideal is not being surrounded in room full of most strangers. Yes, my friend Pat will be there, but then so will his wife, family, and a house of other friends, acquaintances, and associates. The demon of unworthiness is whispering in my ear, "You're stupid. You're a fraud. You're a faggot. They will laugh, judge, and ridicule you. You are reviled and unworthy to be here." I'm trying not to listen to those negatives. Gonna do my best to walk the walk and talk the talk. Gonna stare fear in the face, and as much as I wanna call to decline the invitation, I'm going...

Sigh. However, as people are prone to say, the Devil is a liar, and I'm not gonna punk out like that. Still, my fears abound. Cold, cold, COLD insecurities have always thrown monkey wrenches in my life, let it hinder me from blossoming, but no mo'! And what is there to be afraid of??? (I keep asking myself, but the nagging doubt is still there.)

Ian's Inquiry: So what do you do what doubt and insecurities step in the way. What solutions help you to find strength and courage to look fear in the face head on?

David Ogden Stiers

Not that I'm not surprised, because I'm not, but this celebrity outing seems so passé. His and the other female celebrity who just opened the closet door, I forget her name...Victor help me out bruh! I think you just blogged about it.

I'm still waiting for the confession from some major player in the game, some A-list celebrity or athlete, like Queen Latifah or Dhani Jones (in my dreams!) but one more voice is one more recognition that gays are all around us. We're not sequestered, but right in front of your face, you just might not know it....

Kismet, Part II

Being with my folks turned out to be more than I bargained for. I've been reduced to being a child again and I'm not sure how to handle the scrutiny.... Can't smoke, can't get and do the things I want. Can't eat, and you know, I'm a big boy, so don't be withholding my effing food!!!! LOL.

While its all very frustrating, good things have come about. I'm getting more in touch with myself being confronted by unresolved childhood drama. Would I rather things be more copacetic and peaceful? Of course, stupid question Ian. But change equals growth, and I've been stuck in my rut for far too long now. I need to walk. Done crawling.

The aggravation grew and mounted all weekend, the pot came to a boiling point last night and there was a slight blow out. I respectfully, maintained my calm, but I almost blurted out what needed to be said. Tension mounting, who know what will transpire within the next 24-hours? Your boy can't live in fear, which is a direct point made in the book Peaks and Valleys. Plus, last night I had the opportunity to speak with one of the new co-bloggers for MALE, Mychaeltodd Robinson, and he gave me a little pride in myself, a little more courage, a lil dignity where there was none. That and I've taken away a great deal from reading Peaks and Valleys. Time to put into practice what I've learned.

Hmph...we'll see how this all plays out. I'll probably will be doing plenty writing today, so check back periodically if you're interested in this saga.

Ian's Query: Could you go home and live with your parents again as an adult?

Kismet

Cosmic forces are aligning themselves my friends, the moment is so at hand I can feel it in my spirit. So scaredy cat got some cajones finally, eh? Well not exactly. The Fates are stepping in, taking care of business, giving me a chance to rescue my adulthood from Purgatory. Since being here in my family's home I've regressed into childhood head first. I don't like it!

This weekend set into play events stumbling towards opening the last closet door, and folks, it sure has been a bumpy ride. After this challenge, nothing else in my life will matter, because I will have overcome the biggest obstacle. But I feel sick this morning. Don't have words to begin to describe the trepidation running amok right now. The conversation is going down, and I mean, soon...

Happy Monday!!!

Hey, Stupid Cupid! Is He The One?

Tonight I'm feeling a little lonely and inquisitive about mt love life. Dunno why. Guess I've too much empty time on my hand this Thursday evening. Health-wise, things have been improving and I know soon life will return to normal. Oh you can rest assured I'll be wanting to have this extended time off once I return to work, which is slated possibly by August or September

Call it boredom, but I'm not motivated to do anything at the moment...read, watch television, even blogging. I'm sitting here starting, erasing and restarting, erasing again and restarting this paragraph. I'm so unsettled. Plus remember the old saying, "An idle mind is the Devil's workshop." Sitting here, on my laptop, Ian is pondering what kinda grubbily plank relationship I've managed, yet again, to work myself into.

Suppose I should have discussed Arturo long before now. The reason I haven't is because he reads the blog. I've nothing to hide, but he does, and I don't want to embarrass my Papi anymore that is necessary. Still, those nagging little gremlins in my mind....

Since we hooked up around my birthday, we rekindled the spark that was there last summer No you know, if you've been reading the blog for a while, that A disappeared without a trace. No call, no email, no nothing. He was just gone. It wasn't until I ran into him at his job around the Holidays I got the full scoop on what happened. It was a simple explanation. It's nothing major, and time has allow forgiveness in my heart.

This time apart has solidified doubts. These concerns were nagging me prior to my surgery and has been thrust further since coming home to Philadelphia. It's been over a month since 'Turo and I spent significant quality time together. We've stolen a few moments here an there. A phone call or two, three, four or more. We've been emailing back and forth. Heck I even got my folks to have lunch while we were up for my weekly post-op check up with the surgeon the other week. I have no clues as to whether or not my parents are clued into to us or not. They're not stupid. Arturo visited me while I in the hospital with Junior...

So what's my beef? Isn't this normal for all relationships to have a period of trial and tribulation? Some angst? Curious though. I mean, is Arturo the one? A's a great guy. he treats me nice, now that we worked out why he upped and disappeared last summer, and I love his son to pieces. We're like instant family, ya know? But therein, there is a nine year age difference. Arturo just turns 30 this year. Neither one of us are "Out" to our folks, Artie's not "Out" to most people, which at least I am in my social and working community. If I had to play hide and seek with my sexuality longer than this period I'm at my folks, I'm gonna go stir crazy.

Me? Well you guys all know I'm too chicken-shit to discuss my sexuality with my family, not that it's any of their business. And for A? Well, he's part Dominican, part Puerto Rican, 100% Catholic. In my experience, and remember I have Catholic and Cuban roots from my daddy, some Latin cultures have never been all that favorable on homosexuality. So I understand Arturo's hesitation coming out. Playing Devil's Advocate further, the boy just came to terms with himself in recent years. I so know that's right! I'm almost 40, knowing my needs for at least 20-some years now, and I'm still coming to terms with myself. Sheesh.

Regarding another concern, is he the one? Or am I settling? Considering how much I miss him, I think I "like" the Arturo, but is it love? Come on, I'm so confused and this sucks at age 39 not knowing your heart. Starting relationships has never been my forte. Never been good at picking the right man either.

Too, I keep thinking about other men who stir things inside me, make me feel things on a spiritual level, that doesn't make sense. I attribute those emotions to lust. At least I hope it's lust. Maybe I just need to get laid again??? Being gay ain't easy...

Dude, I'm such a bad homo, LOL!

Tidbits, Part One: Smokeless & Eating

Note: I started this post eaaaaaaaaarly this morning when I wasn't in a very good mood. Be forewarned, I'm a bit bitchy, but purging some inner daemons!!! Just wait. I split this into two parts....

So, it's after three in the morning, and here I sit on the laptop, worried, tired, confused, stressed, and bereft. Why not go back to bed? Because I can't sleep. Or rather, because sleep is done with me. I sleep in weird intervals, usually its about three hours at a time, so your truly is up for the duration.

Following up with my earlier post from yesterday afternoon, 'tis true, I've been sad. However, not just, I've also been extremely irritated. Rotating between emotions for the last several weeks. frustration is boiling over. Things came to a climax Sunday after a discussion with Brother Jarrell on how hectic things at home have been. In addition, I have a tendency to heap the worlds problems on my own shoulders. The recent deaths of the young men who committed suicide, the young man found disposed in a garbage dumpster, and all the unfairness mainstream society is attempting to thrust upon the LGBT community, well my heart is just in a bad place.

To his credit, our blogging brother Corey is a saint. Or at least God sent, honest and trule. I had a meltdown on brother, enough so to scare even the most patient of Saints. Surprised dude didn't go running for the hills, but Mr. Jarrell has proven himself to be a reliable and trustworthy friend. Kudos for him.

Since coming home from hospital, my parents have cared for me so might heal better this go round. We wanna nip all this in the bud and be done with it. Btu things never seem to go according to plan, at least not in my life. My family has been supportive, but they don't understand the mess I'm experiencing. It's difficult being here, back in Philly, back home, relying on others again. I'm used to my independence, but that doesn't mean I can't ask for help, but rather I want the help that doesn't come with restriction, or price tags.

All the rules! I have to laugh here because it seems like I'm 15 all over again. Can't do this after certain hour, must do this before this particular hour, lights out at this hour... Are you serious?!?! I'm almost 40. If I want to read or talk on my cell, that's my business. If I surf the 'Net for more than an hour, which I tend to do because mobility is an issue, well that's fine. I'm not hurtin' you am I? Sheesh! Let's call a spade a spade, being here sucks. The old saying "You can't go home again" rings sooooooo true.

Not to sound ungrateful, I'm happy someone took compassion to help me, believe me. My folks are extending a generosity and compassion not many people would extend to their children who're almost 40. And believe me, I've read in-between the lines with some comments. I am a grown ass man, why the help can't I can't take care of myself, right? That subtle unstated sentiment looms heavy in the air, I know. It's not just my parent though, so let's give them a little slack. But my parents are well known for their criticism and constant remarks on other people's lives and what folk should and shouldn't be doing. Christ. Living here, life is constant examination under the microscope.

An example. Shortly before going in hospital, I decided now was as good of time as ever to quit smoking once and for all. It's a nasty habit and in the long run I'll be thankful. But the road hasn't been easy and I'm having cravings still after several weeks. Well, like most folks who quit, I've developed a lil bit of an appetite. Dear sweet "mumsy" has decided to lay into about my eating habits, questioning where do I put it all, blah blah blah blah.

Now, I should mention that I am a thicker brother. It's in my genes. Unfortunately, I didn't inherit the "tall" traits from my mama's people and got stuck with the heavier, big boned genes from my daddy's Southern peeps! Frag! Hard to believe this child here started out life at less than 6 pounds when I was born.

Life has been a struggle to maintain an appropriate weight. It's oh-so-damn-easy to fall off the wagon, but I don't wanna be grossly obese or not cute anymore, so I do my best to work on things. Besides, you know gay men are more shallow than a little bit, so I'm not trying gain anymore girth than necessary. To that end though, I will ashamedly admit, I do have poor self-image, reinforced by the voices over 39 years how I was too this or too that. Tends to work on a guy af'er while. dealing with the residual negative self-esteem issues from childhood hasn't been fun in life. I don't enjoy discussing it. That's part of the reason why you probably won't see too many pictures of me on this blog. I simply hate how I look...but that's an even longer story.

To be completely forthcoming, weight issues are a hot mess with me. It's a colossal pain in the ass. I manage to go workout or exercise, but the shit has never been anything but a burden, never fun. And to that end, I recognize I will never look like a model, never have washboard abs, or be the one turnin' head. Such is life. Like the best of us, I take it in stride until somebody gets up in my grill about things, then, "Houston we have a problem."

Whenever anyone questions or challenges my behavior involving weight, foot, or eating, I get defensive or withdrawn, depending on where my head is at. And yeah, I've been known to stop eating too. Don't mess with the bulimic behavior too much though. (That scares the crap outta me, but shallow, sick part of me thinks I'd rather be a thin and sexy than some vile vilified hog.)

Dealing with post operation stress, the craving for nicotine has increased tenfold. All I wanna do is escape into the backyard and toke on some toxic chemicals. Yeah, I know smoking is probably the worst of habits, but it was my thang. I do and don't miss it at the same time. I don't miss running to the convenience store in the wee hours for a pack nor the price of a pack, but I do miss the tranquil comfort it gave, even if I did smell like an ashtray. At least I never smoked in the house! That was my rule. If I wanted a damn thing bad enough, then come snow, sleet, cold, dark of night, warmth and heat of summer, outside on the deck I was...

Long Distance...

Chico Negrito-

Woke up this morning, thinking of you, missing you...wanting to be there, instead of here. Shit, we ain't all that far apart, but far enough. Given both our "closet" situations and scenarios, this is where we're at. No more closer than a few phone calls, timed discreetly, hiding from both our parents. How pathetic, eh Papito?

I miss you. Do you miss me bitch? Like my choice of song? Can't sum up better words to describe what's going on. Hopefully we can meet up, even if it's by "accident," tomorrow when I check in with the docs. Orchestrate some clandestine, not-so-secret rendezvous under socially "acceptable" circumstances. Like show up at your work, huh? Oh folks would talk. Figure both our parents put two and two and two together by then...Lawd, let's hope so!

Tired of hiding yet? I've no longer the right to criticize you for what you do, when doing exactly that. Hell, I'm almost 40...

Oh well, do what we must, must what we do. For now....

Loving you,
"Softspot"