Out

So today I was off to the gym.  My brother called to say they were headed over to mom's.  I decide it's the right time to talk with mom.  So I take a detour to her place.

When I get there I play around a little with my nieces.  Then I say, "Mom I need to talk to you. You know how I've been secretive about where I've been going lately."

"Lacie"

That's my friend that I came out to on Friday.  We were shopping and getting pedicures on Saturday when mom called me and guessed that I was with her.  I told Lacie that mom would think we were dating. "No.  I'm planning to start dating, and I've been going to one of the gay bars in town."

A long pause. "So you think you're gay now?"

I smile. "I've known it for a while."

"Did Kurt tell you this."

Kurt is my best friend from high school who came out to me freshman year of college. "No. I did talk with him about it though."

"But when Kurt told you you were upset about it."

"Yes for obvious reasons now.  I've been really happy the last month or so since I've accepted this."

"Well it's you're life.  You can live it how you want.  Whatever makes you happy."

And that was it.  My step-dad was even easier.  What the hell is the world coming to when coming out means nothing to anyone. :)

So now that I'm living out I'm going to reveal a little bit about me.  My first name is Darren.  I live in Wichita, KS.  Below is a picture of me as of Saturday.

By day's end Mom had called two of her sisters.  One called and the other texted their support.  They're like, "You're still Darren."  Someone please tell me what had me so worried?

Telling My Brother

I decided I could not wait until next week to talk to my brother.  Yesterday I sent him a text asking if he could meet me for dinner.  He sent one back saying thanks, but they were just setting down to dinner.

So this early this morning I sent him another invite for tonight.  I said that even if we couldn't have diner if we could at least talk I'd like to.  He responded back saying that if certain things fell into place we could get dinner.  By five in the evening everything had fallen into place and I was on the hook.

The last two hours of work dragged on.  I was getting increasingly nervous with each passing second.  Then I'd take a deep breath, refocus, and calm down only to have it start all over again.  I've experienced worse than this in the past though.

I got even more nervous as I got into my car and drove to his house.  I even started to question everything that I said about myself last week.  I'm not really gay or even remotely interested in guys, am I?  Do I really feel attraction to them, or is it just the taboo feeling that I enjoy?  I just need to find the right girl.  Maybe I should give my friend at work a try just to be sure.  Why should I tell him anything when I haven't even tried anything yet.

I started to think that I needed to tell him first thing, or else I'd rationalize my way out of it.  Plus if he was really upset he could just get out of the car and go back into his apartment and I could go find a place to drink.  If he was fine with it we could discuss things at dinner.  It was a great plan.

As I arrived I realized that I forgot my wallet in my desk and had no way to pay for dinner.  I told my brother that up front and we agreed to drive back to work and eat near there.  This was perfect because it would give us some more minutes to talk.

Once he got in the car he asked how things were going.  I said fine.  Then he asked what I had wanted to talk about... silence.

I just couldn't talk.  I couldn't find the words.  I knew what I wanted to say.  I knew what I had rehearsed saying (I'd been doing it in my head all day), but when I finally had to find the words they were just not escaping my mouth.

By the time we'd driven the mile or so to the freeway I started to talk about my therapy and social anxiety.  It was the only thing that I could think of to talk about that would seem like a big enough deal.  So basically I chickened out from my original plan.

We got to work and I went in kicking myself the whole way.  I kept telling myself when I got back out there I was going to get into why I had wanted him to come out with me.  I went up to my desk, retrieved my wallet and walked town the four flights of stairs to the tunnel leading to the parking lot.  The whole time I was telling myself I had to talk to him.

I got back to the car and fumbled with my seatbelt.  I needed to find the words... silence.

We drove to the restaurant.  After entering and putting out names in the hostess said it would be a 30 minute wait.  This was perfect.  We could go outside and talk... silence.  I couldn't even ask him to go outside to talk.

Dinner was half chatting about nothing and half silence.

The car ride home was him talking about Warhammer 40K updates and me nodding and thinking to myself I HAD to say something.

We pulled into his drive.  He said thank you for dinner and unbuckled his seatbelt as he got ready to leave.

"Wait.  I need to talk to you about something."

I did it I'd actually said something, but now I was kind of committed to following this through.  After a bit of silence where I was struggling to find the words he told me that I could tell him anything.

I started to say how I wanted to let him know that I planned to start dating.  He said how great that was to hear.  Then I fumbled around the next sentence.

"The thing is... When I start dating... I plan to date... I think I want to date... guys.  I'm not saying that I'll end up with a guy, but I've had these thoughts for a long time."

The next hour was filled with him being supportive, me spilling a few things, but not as much as I've spilled here and to my friend.

He said he had a couple gay coworkers and asked if it would be alright if he talked with them.  I told him he could and told him about the ex and my friend had put me in contact with so that I could maybe find a friend in the gay community.  He said he'd see about the guys at work too.

I told him he could tell his wife if he needed to talk to someone about it.  I stressed though that both of them should keep it quite for now.  I feel like I don't want to tell many more people until I've been out on at least one date, but I'm fairly certain what I'm feeling is the way it is.

He asked if he was depriving of something by not letting me tell his wife.  The thing there is I don't have a lot of trust for her right now.  If I were to tell her and ask her to keep it a secret I don't think I'd be convinced it would be kept.  If he does it I feel differently.  I told him that and he seemed to understand.

We also talked about the reactions I fear I'll see in the family and my friends.  Who will accept it, who will reject it.  For the most part I think a lot of cousins will be fine with it.  Aunts, Uncles, and my grandmother are different stories.

I don't feel quite as freed as I did last week, but I do feel a little better knowing that my bother cares for me still and knows a piece of what I've been going through.  I know it has strengthened our bond.

Coming Out to Me

I'm sure there was an earlier post or two that sounded like I'd already done this, but I don't think I ever truly have before.

I said earlier that my friend was in town and we had this huge long conversation.  I really forced myself to open up about stuff.  Forced may be the wrong word.  I wanted to open up, but I kept holding back all day. It wasn't until very late in the night that I really started to talk.

It's funny because one of the topics of conversation that day was when he came out to me.  He couldn't recall how it happened.  I know he did not intend to come out when he did.  He was very secretive and controlling of that information at the time (wow you think that would have been something that would have entered my mind).

Anyway he came out to me when we were roommates at college.  I remember the exact date (because I'm that kind of friend).  It was very late at night.  We sometimes had this thing where after the lights went out and we were both in bed we'd talk a little about all kinds of things.  This night he was talking to me about something he stumbled across online that disturbed him.  It was a piece of erotic fiction that involved a widely known religious figure from history in a homosexual relationship (I'd rather you infer what that means then me actually have to type it... I'm still a little religious remember). :)

I remember he said something that clicked with me and I asked him if he was trying to tell me something.  It was at that point he admitted he was gay.  I'm fairly certain I'm the first person he told from back home.  That was always something that meant a lot to me.  It kind of defined the relationship as a lifelong friendship.  I didn't need to really work through the question of accepting him.  He was my best friend.  It changed nothing about how I felt about him.

So it's only fitting that I basically returned the favor to him (wow does that ever sound dirty).  When we were having our discussion I opened up about fantasies I had in high school, the porn I watched, the shows that I watched and the relationships that meant the most to me in them (basically I have the viewing habits of a teenage girl because I love shows like Degrassi, and Ziley (Riley/Zane) was one of my favorite relationships (although I enjoyed the Marco/Ellie friendship almost as much, but part of that was because I really liked watching Stacey Farber and the guy that played Marco was extremely cute as he got older).

After telling my friend all this stuff it was easier to accept in myself that, yeah I'm gay.  Not 100% gay, but mostly gay.  The weird thing is I don't want the gay label though.  I don't want the bi label either.  I don't want any label.  I just want to be me.

An extremely wise person said that the hardest person, and in fact the first person, to come out to is yourself.  It's taken me nearly 15 years to do it, but I finally think I have.  I realize that I want what my friend has.  I want a relationship, and I kind of expect for that relationship to be with a guy.

This is definitely a turning point in my life.

Allow Me To Vent for a Moment

I just got back from my normal Thursday night of league pool with friends.  It's really the only night I go out each week.  We were talking and somehow the topic turned to how old we all were (one of my friends guessed my age and was only a year under to which he replied, "and I was lowballing it").  At 33 (almost 34) I'm the youngest of the group.

At the very end of the night the jukebox started playing songs from their high school/middle school days, and I was relating how I was only 5 in the early 80's when some of these songs came out.

I say I want to vent because since there was talk about high school there was also talk about young love relationships and going to prom.  Not much mind you, only a small little bit.  But that small bit just kinda got to me.

One of the guys on my team is married.  The girl has been married and is currently dating.  The other guy I don't really know that well (we don't talk much... it's that weird he's their friend and I'm their friend, but we're not really friends kind of thing), but I assume he has dated/is dating.

My point is that if the discussion had gotten going more with other people contributing I would have had nothing. I didn't have a high school romance.  I didn't have a college romance.  I haven't had an adult romance (of course I basically said all this in my first post).  I will never have those sorts nostalgic memories to add to the conversation.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not saying that I'm never going to have a romance.  I still have hope that something will happen someday, but I can never go back and change the past.  I'm never going to have the memory of being a teenager in love.  I'm never going to know what it was like kick my roommate out of my dorm room (but I do know what it's like to be the one kicked out).

It just makes me... sad.  I know you'll probably say that I can make lovely memories from this point forward.  That may be true (although right now I still have times where I find it difficult to believe anyone could fall for me), but it's not going to be the same.

Of course just thinking about the possibility of having a relationship leads me down the path of anxiety and asking, "what if."  What if I do find someone who's crazy enough to go out on a date with me?  What will it be like?  How should I act?  What if I withdraw so much because of my introversion and shyness and have nothing to say or come across as cold and uninterested?  Should I tell them that it's my first date?  How can I tell what their body language is telling me, because I know I'm completely clueless there.

Then what happens if we try to kiss?  Can I be a good kisser having never done it before?  How can I tell if I should initiate the kiss?  What happens if things get serious?

And it's thinking like that (and a much poorer self image) that put me in this situation to begin with.  Ugh.  I can't believe that such a simple, off the cuff comment could cause me so much turmoil.  I was having a good night too, but for some reason this just started eating at me.

I know, I know, I'm most likely making a much larger deal out of this then it should be.  I really think that at my next appointment I need to get the courage to bring some of this up.  We touched on it during my initial appointment.  To which the therapist said, "you're still young."  But over the last two weeks it's just been weighing on me more and more.

There are some days where it would have been easier if I had just stayed my 400 lbs. self.  I knew how to be that person.  I was miserable, but I knew better who I was when I was him.  I'm not saying I want to go back.  It's just... right now I'm lost.

As If Writing Here Wasn't Enough

For some reason doing this blog and the reading I've been doing has inspired me to write some stuff down as a story.  I'm hoping that it will help me sort through some stuff.  It's loosely autobiographical.  To give an example I just got done writing a scene where the main character first feels confusion about his sexuality.  In reality it didn't happen for me exactly that way.

There are elements of other parts of my experience that helped to develop that scene (speaking of development I think I need to go back and flesh that scene out a little bit more, no pun intended), but I never had the exact experience I'm writing about.

There are other things I plan to do.  I want to get into the time when I considered suicide.  One of the things that stopped me from doing it was a cousin in another state that did do it.  However in the story I'm already planning on it being a close friend that attempts it, but does not succeed.

I don't ever plan to pass it off as 100% autobiographical only to say that it's inspired by my life.

I'm hoping to cover all of my struggles with my sexuality in it including my wondering if I'm asexual or not.  Who knows maybe one day I'll get it published.  Or maybe I'll post it as a blog serial.  Or I could always just keep it for myself.  I know though that simply doing this is going to help me face some thoughts and emotions I haven't faced for years, and I think that will be a good thing.

Are All Gay Guys Horn-Dogs?

Seriously.  Lately I've been checking out some blogs from guys struggling with their sexuality.  I just stumbled across them while doing an internet search a while back.  I was really interested in them because I thought they may be able to give me some insight into who I am.  Secrets of an All American is the one that got me thinking about doing my own secret blog to chronicle my quest for self discovery.

His blog was interesting and he had links to a lot of other ones.  I followed a couple of those links and started reading.  I was surprised.  One blog just seemed to chronicle the conquests of one man.  He did have a few deeply personal posts too though.  Posts with more meaning then most of mine probably have.

But the point is I kept finding these posts on all these blogs about how they were jumping on Grindr, or chat room, or Craig's List, or something and hooking up with these seemingly random guys.

I'm I crazy for thinking there's a problem with that?  Is something wrong with me that I don't want to just hook up with a random guy (or girl)?  Am I stupid for feeling that there should be some sort of a relationship first before the sex?

Maybe it's because I'm 33 and still a virgin.  I really never thought words like sex, love, companionship, relationship were ones I'd ever truly know the meaning of.  Maybe that's why each one of them seems like a treasure that shouldn't be squandered.

I don't want to just go out and hook up.  Yeah I really, really want to loose this V card, but I don't want to do it just for the sake of doing it.  I want it to mean something for me.

Does that make me weird?

Friday Night

So I did end up going somewhere after all.  I went to do some shopping I needed to get done.  Then, despite my goal this month to conserve money and pay down debt I decided to go out to dinner and maybe try to  catch a movie (wanted to have a little fun).

Dinner alone in a crowded restaurant goes about the same every time.  You sit there drinking your beer not talking to anyone.  Just you, your drink, your food, and your smart phone.  All around you are people talking and enjoying each other's company.  The waiter always seems to be impatient for you to order (after all no one is with you to distract from your menu reading).  Once they get your order they don't seem to realize they need to move faster for you since you don't have a conversation to interrupt you and therefore are going to fly through the meal.  Then you get the check and tip them 20% (which is usually only $2-3), feel a little guilty that it's so little, yet a little satisfied because the service wasn't as quick as you needed it to be.  Then you get up and leave.

I called my brother to go to the movie.  He had friends over and invited me over.  It was a couple who I knew through him.  So I played 5th wheel.  It's not at all upsetting to be hanging out with friends who are only your friends because they were your brother's friends that you co-opted.  It's also gives you a warm feeling when the wives can have their conversation, and the husband's their's, and you get to be the third person in one of those (yeah sometimes I like to use sarcasm).  At least I got to spend some time with my nieces though.

I got home, watched some TV and then started thinking about my wants again.  Why do I feel like I don't have an attraction to anyone?  Is it because somewhere deep down I think it's socially unacceptable (either because I'm truly gay and my mind  is holding me back because I can't tell who a viable partner is, or because I still feel that being with me would be some sort of burden or black mark on that person)?  Do I just not feel attracted to anyone?

I got to thinking about high school (I was watching a show based in high school, a setting I really enjoy in movies and TV, so that may have been what prompted this).  I had girls that I had "crushes" on.  Girls who I thought were attractive in some way.  Girls who I would have loved to have been able to ask out if I wasn't me and a total outcast.

But the stars of my fantasies were always the boys.  They are the ones I thought about while alone at night taking care of the business.  I pictured doing things with them.  The girls never factored in.

I know it's going to take time to sort through all this, but I do hope I can sort through it eventually.  I really don't want to be a 5th wheel forever.

Broken Promises to Myself

So yesterday's first entry was a little bit all over the place.  I can ramble and often the thoughts just get to flowing freely and I don't really have a way to organize them ahead of time.  It doesn't make for the easiest to read posts sometimes.  Today I'm trying to stay on topic, but it's a lot to talk about.

I'm talking about the major promises to myself I've broken over the years.  I'm also mixing in a little bit of background on me to help paint a better picture.  I'm not going to promise I won't be long winded, but I'm hoping that it will at least be readable and understandable.

I grew up in a small town in the mid-west.  There were about 40 in my graduating class and about 200 in the entire high school.  I was definitely on the low end of the popularity pyramid.

I was the overweight, geeky kid who was nice and kind, but no one really liked.  You know there's got to be someone like that.  In larger schools there's more of you, so you can find each other and bind together.  That doesn't really happen in smaller schools though.

I can't really blame that for my problems.  The truth is I was extremely depressed in high school.  I truly hated myself.  I even considered (though not really seriously) suicide.  It was not a fun time to be me.  I was always a happy kid before puberty.  Always had a smile on my face, but as I got older the only reason I wore a smile was because I was faking it.

I could sit here and blame it on being bullied (which I most definitely was), but that would just be the easy way out.  I honestly just wasn't happy.  I didn't see any worth to me.  I'd often sit and think about how much better everyone would be without me.  I still do that sometimes.  The difference is now I know that there are people who would be affected by it and I just can't do that to them.

Looking back now I realize that I really didn't love myself, I didn't see worth in myself, and if I didn't love or see worth in myself how could anyone else?  That's why I never even tried to find a girl in high school (a guy would have been out of the question for such a small town).  The sad thing is I now think there was probably one or two I could have had some sort of relationship with.  Maybe even lost my virginity to, but I blew that chance.

There I go rambling off topic.  I was an unhappy teen.  I was also the type of person who ate his feelings, and when you feel really bad that's a heck of a lot of food.  I graduated high school somewhere between 280 and 300 lbs.  I made my first real promise to myself. "I'll get my weight under control and I will never weigh more than 300lbs."

I spent that summer convincing myself that when I got to college things would be different.  I promised myself I was going to get some friends and date and have a completely new life.  I went to the floor mixer, went to classes, found at least one new friend, lost a little weight (though admittedly that was because I was kind of starving myself). That all lasted for a good month or two, but inevitably I feel back into depression.

I thought even more about ending it all.  I didn't, but I did get to the point where I barely left my room.  I just couldn't face people.  By the second semester I failed out (this is coming from someone who got a 24 and then a 27 on his ACT without prepping at all.  Someone who aced every test in high school, but got B's and C's in the class because he didn't do the homework).  I'd broken my promise to have a new life and felt like I ruined the crappy one I had.

The depression lasted past college and followed me back home.  It stayed with me for the longest time.  I managed it with food.  By the time I was 21 I'd broken my promise to never weigh more than 300lbs., so now I decided I'd never weigh more than 400lbs.  I also promised myself that by the time I was 25 I'd go out on at least one date.

Twenty-three came and went and I was beginning to tell myself to give up.  I'd never be loved, so why bother worrying about it.  When I turned 26, still dateless, still a virgin, still never been kissed, I decided that I had to accept my life as one where I was always alone.  I'd broken another promise.  I cried a lot at first, and then not at all.

Somehow through all that mess I found something I could enjoy doing for work, when back to college as an older student, and got a degree.  I had a friend or two in college, but never was it a relationship I initiated.  Actually it was weird that I always ended up being friends with people who has a pretty liberal view of the laws regarding marijuana (too this day I'm still confused that I never was offered to try it, though I wouldn't because I was a a good boy and never wanted to be out of control for fear of what I would do).

By the time I was 28 I graduated and went to work full time.  It was a sedentary job, stuck in a cubical, not much interaction with other people... just the way I liked it.  Things were kind of looking up.

That summer I developed an infection in my leg.  I was freaked out because a year or two prior my dad lost his leg to such an infection.  I went to the doctor.  I had to step on a scale for the first time in a while.  It went up to 350.  I pegged it.  It was alright because the last time I weighed myself I was about 380, and I didn't gain weight since then right?  Some chronic medication for diabetes and such, some antibiotics and the infection cleared.  It was back next summer though.  This time it took some IV antibiotic to clear it.

Enough was enough.  That fall they had a health clinic at work and I signed up.  It took two scales and I weighed in at 412lbs.  I realized I'd gained a knack for breaking promises to myself.  Something had to change.  I tried to, but ultimately by the next health clinic I still weighed the same.  I had to make a change.  I tried to eat better.  My work was starting Weight Watchers in January and I promised myself to join it.  I kept that promise.

My first weigh in was just over 390.  I had left 400lbs. behind.  In a month I lost another 20.  Then tragedy struck and my father passed.  A heart attack caused by diabetes.  I stopped watching what I ate and just let myself indulge.  I promised myself by the next week I'd be back on plan.  I kept that promise.

I promised myself that I'd loose 50lbs. total by then end of the first 12 weeks.  I kept that promise.  I promised myself I'd be under 300lbs. by my birthday that summer.  I kept that promise.  I promised myself I'd be under my high school weight by Christmas.  I kept that promise.  I promised myself that I'd keep it all off and never look back.

That's were I'm at today.  I got as low as the 230's and have since gained back between 20lbs. and 30lbs., but have been loosing overall for the past month.  That's what prompted me to go to therapy.  I don't want to backslide.  I don't want to break that promise.

Accomplishing something like loosing 100+ lbs. gives you a confidence you never knew you had.  It's been two years now and that confidence is waning.  I'm loosing focus.  I'm staring to feel those feelings of worthlessness again.  I'm starting to realize I'm going to be alone forever and I'm falling back into depression.  I promise I won't let that happen.