Tidbits, Part Two:

Depressed over what? Mainly for not being the son they wanted, which reinforces all the insecurities I still have from childhood. Mainly for not being the person i wanted, or rather can't be. It's all so damn sophomoric and childish. Childhood issues rearing up from the past, like goddamn ghosts in the hall haunting me, chiding me for being how I turned out.

There are moments when my ire gets irked enough, but for the most part, I've been a fucking coward and just sat back and not expressed my feeling. Respect for my parents I suppose. The whole "honor thy mother and father crap." This is their home after all, and I am a guest, so...
But I'm ready to break outta this here prison! I wanna go back home, not necessarily to the life I had, but to my own independence.

Now speaking on a few issues, criticize if you must, but be fair. I grew up in difficult circumstances. Yes, we all have, but being back in the neighbor where so many painful events occurred is difficult to reconcile. You can't get to my parents' home without passing the alley way where I was sodomized by a group neighborhood boys, including one who'd become my future brother-in-law, can't drive down the block without seeing old youthful bullies, hanging on the corner, lives going nowhere, and wondering how I escaped, and they didn't. (Guilt complex) Can't remove myself from under the household where my own parent's accuse me of being too this or too that, like my life has no merit to them what so ever.

Yeah, I know that last part ain't true, but goddamn...I have my own adult demons enough! I really don't need the childhood ones raising up at this critical juncture in my life. Shit. I thought I had put things to rest when I left up outta here in my 20s. I lived with my folks for exactly six months after my disastrous first year of graduate school. Six months. After that, I vowed never, EVAH, would I live under the same roof again. I can't live up to their expectations. And please, for all you who think its soooo easy to confess my sexuality to them, live here for one day, and you'll see what I mean.

Oh sure they know. There's no question about that. My cousin Jaheem was over and the difference between how he acts and how I act are night and day. Boy acts like a "man," while my behavior is suspect and questionable to my folks. I dunno any other to explain the bullshit. It's not pretty.

Too, being here is playing upon the insecurities I have in myself. The self doubt I never really seems to make amends with. Those nagging thoughts and feeling that come in the darkest hours, in the middle of the night, when all I can do is feel miserable in the dark, and pray God either takes me home that minute, or I can fall asleep and awake with amnesia....

I'm not done. More after while.