Perhaps, reluctantly, my life changed when I came out. Of course it did, silly! I'm not sure if life has been for the better or not. I'm certainly not skipping down and golden paths, gleefully searching for the Emerald City, that's for damn sure. Examining life to where I've been and where I am, it doesn't seem much different. Therapy was helping to some minute degree, but therapy became increasingly painful and layers were peeled away. I've stopped going to therapy a year ago. Some days I can muddle through and pull off a smile or two. The adage "fake it until you make it" is merely another part of my daily living. When and how am I ever going to make it through? "Desperate" doesn't begin to explain my plight. Hopeless, upon occasion would be apropos.
Medication thoughts have crossed my mind from time to time, but to be completely honest, I'm not all that regimented with taking my usual daily life-sustaining medication, let alone add an additional prescription for "bottled" happiness. I tend to be lax with doing the whole pill thing. Perhaps all of this is a result of my depression? Napoleon seems to think I'm Bipolar, a condition he has. From my own psychological background, I beg to differ. I tend to only experience extreme lows and the rest of my life is mediocre. Knowing the truth though, everything could be a combination of Post Traumatic Stress, depression, diabetes, and weight issues. The impact causes mood swings where I have death wishes at times.
Seriously? Seriously. Now I haven't considered that plight ins a good number of years. Hell, while being in my mediocre existence, the consequence could be worse according to faith and the eternal agony awaiting if I chose suicide. Don't worry about me. I'll be here long enough until my body just falls the hell apart and my old friend the Darkman finally steps out of the shadows and carries me to the next level, be that Hell or Heaven.
Saying I'm tired is an understatement. Given the circumstances, however, I'm not throwing in the towel. It's unfortunate I'm at a place where I'm needy and crave support from others. My being can be taxing on others and its easier to suffer in silence than to be a burden to others. My dark moments cycle and usually last one or two weeks at a time, then I get a few days respite before the process starts all over again. I'm used to living like this. Life has always been this way and I've developed clever ways of disguising it.
With all this said, I've been trying to plot a new course to the next harbor of happiness, loosely said, of course. Happiness supposedly, begins and ends with the self. OK, well I'm not happy with myself. Another understatement.Don't ask for explanations, too many reasons are there. Suffice to say, I want to work on moving forward. I'm caught up and tangled in my own intra-personal bullshit clinging own to old fears and drowning in misery. There's so much to become. so much need, but emotional ties to the past bind me in place. I can't move ahead.
Can't or won't? Creating my own path to self-acceptance is going to take time. I need to be more than enough patient with myself. My day is coming. Like any other process in life, the circumstance have to be right for things to come to fruition. I need to give myself time, a little respect, and serenity.
Today is the local celebration or Pride Month. Why my area celebrates in July is unfathomable, but I decided I'm gonna head down to River Front for a little while despite the worst of myself. Like the rest of my life, I don't entirely comfortable in the gay community, but I am who I am. Fuck off to anyone who thinks they're more superior than me.
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