Aspiring Novelist

October 15, 2017

Damming the Depression

Like many Americans I suffer from depression. I was diagnosed when I turned 18 however I think it had been an issue for some time prior to that. As an adult I realized my true personality, which is that of an overachiever looking for recognition of my intelligence. I was also this way prior to puberty but during my teenage years I couldn’t have cared less about anything and everything. It could have also been because I was grapling with my sexual identity from the perspective of a devout Christian but who knows.

Either way I was prescribed anti-depressants from that day on.

My relationship with these pills has waxed and waned frequently over the years. I go from thinking “I can never not be on my meds” to “maybe this is what is keeping me from writing?” It is this cycle that I live my life through. It would appear that I am coming to the moment of “I can never not be on these pills” again. But have I taken them? No, because “they keep me from writing.” Which is funny because so does depression.

I made an appointment with a therapist for Monday. And I am genuinely looking forward to it. I’m curious if I’ll like her and if she’ll call me by my actual name. (I had a therapist that went in for the “come to Jesus” message of the session and botched it by telling me I should ask myself “what does Jason want.”)

I want to like her and I hope it helps. The thing about therapists is you have to find the right one that works well with your personality and shares somewhat basic ideals. I have seen a few in my day and it took some time before I came to one that could keep up and seemed to like me. He is also the one who has since ignored my subsequent calls. Yet, as I outlined in my earlier post, it could be because I kept bouncing my checks.

Prior to this, and on a different insurance, I started seeing this addiction therapist and she had a very dry almost cold personality but there was something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it was because I could tell from the lines on her face that she herself had battled addiction and knew what she was talking about. Unfortunately I had to let her go because we switched insurance and I happen to get the day of my appointment mixed up in my head. (Happens often).

As the days go on I become frequently sadder. My Facebook feed being the biggest instigator of these emotions. It should be noted that I have since deleted it from my phone.

My husband this morning remarked that his Facebook feed was nothing but recipes now and I retorted, rather jaded, that mine was nothing but trump. The man is destroying everything in my eyes and I can’t help but feel soooooo insignificant. There is nothing I can do without buckets of money or power. Of which I have none. My husband, in an attempt to make me feel better, said we are all insignificant. He’s sweet for trying.

The thing that has really been upsetting is this dick had decided to side with the religious Reich and build his new platform under family values. I laugh sometimes because the hypocrisy of him taking a stand for them is hilarious and them accepting it is a downright riot. Yet here we are. Two cruel and callous forces combining their lights to take on the evils of the homosexual agenda.

These thoughts inevitably lead me to the realization that some of my friends and family voted for this monster and because of him they could potentially (and most fucking likely) take away my rights as a gay man. They may have not done it intentionally but they have when they elect someone that has an agenda that wants to destroy my community. I know that they find me repulsive, they say so in all of the literature and words, and it is from that knowledge sprouts two paths of thought, I either return their hatred or do what Christ says and turn the other cheek. I may be agnostic but I was raised in the faith and my mother (who exemplifies what it means to be a Christian) taught me well.

So another day I drift closer to a dark depression. I try not to be so maudlin, for instance I am currently out in the sunshine, taking a break from bike riding. It is that exercise and the return of Will and Grace that has brought me the most joy. It’s pathetic and it’s true.

October 10, 2017

Seeking Help

It has become quite clear to me that I need to seek out a counselor. My emotions need some release and validation from a disinterested third party. Yet, when I go to search I am stopped. A thousand questions run through my mind: who I should pick, will they like me, will I like them? And the most important, will they be okay with me being gay?

I live in a very conservative community. Dangerously so. All the doctors I have sought are all marriage and family. I just want a fucking therapist to go and vent to and find out what makes me tick. But I don’t know if they will harbor some sort of resentment toward me because I’m gay.

This fear of mine is exacerbated by a former counselor of mine. He was really good and I liked him. His name was Dr. Strange, however he wasn’t a PhD. I just added the title because it was adorable. Anyway, when I was seeing him the husband and I were on a break, yet we were still living together and sharing a single bank account. He would make purchases that would then make my checks bounce. I tell you this because I want to believe that when I went to reach out to Jake Strange years later for help and when he ignored my calls it was because he didn’t want to deal with the unpredictability of being paid for his services. The jaded side of my personality believes it was because he was religious and wanted nothing to do with a faggot. (I hate the word but I added it for emphasis.)

Since then I have been uneasy when it comes to finding a therapist. Even now… I am mortified. I tried reaching out to one yesterday but haven’t heard back at all. A simple “we’re not taking new clients” would suffice. At least then I could move on to the next on my list. In my mind I’m in some weird counselor database saying I bounce checks and am gay.

I tried the next on my list regardless of an answer and when I was faced with his voicemail I froze. I couldn’t do it. I was terrified. My voice caught in my chest and I instead just hung up. He presented himself as a marriage and family counselor. I was going for me, not my marriage. Did I search for the wrong thing?

So I attempted another number and I responded the same way. I couldn’t leave a message. Now I am wondering if I am just scared to actually get help. Maybe this is me making excuses NOT to get better, you know what I mean?

In a final attempt I reached out to my former Psychologist for a recommendation (per my husbands advice.) Now I wait again.

October 8, 2017

AOL Days IM Nights

Technology is dated the moment it comes out. By the time it’s been mass produced, packaged and shipped it’s been outdated by newer and better technology. It’s just kind of how the digital age works. Things appear from nowhere and disappear just as fast. For those that enjoyed the item while it was there, it will hold a special place in their heart that can never be outdone, no matter how well the thing that replaced it performs. For me the item from the digital age that deeply affected my life was AIM.

Now, I never actually used just the AOL Instant Messenger. I had the full aol shebang all because of the movie “You’ve Got Mail.” Like a lot of preteens I was chasing that silver screen fantasy of finding someone special. Funny now that I think of it, that it did in fact do just that. Just not right away.

Being a fat, pale, shut-in with no friends the internet opened up a whole new world for me. I got to meet people from all over the world and talk with them. The conversations were vacuous and silly but it was a way to connect when I felt so alone.

AIM gave me that opportunity.

I still have one friend from that time, Heather. She was my “shopgirl” before I realized I really just wanted a “shopboy.” Well, I knew I wanted boys I just hadn’t accepted it because of my religious background. AIM let me “have a girlfriend” without having to actually touch or kiss another girl. It was all about words and creating an illusion. Honestly I did love her. She was sweet and I enjoyed talking to her. She lived in Allentown, Pennsylvania.

When my husband and I went back to New York last years, I had wanted to meet with her (since she has moved) but it wasn’t possible. One day I hope to see her face to face and give her a friendly hug.

My real “shopboy” (btw this is a reference from “You’ve Got Mail” you must get to understand) came in the form of a dude named chuck77393. That was my husband’s old AIM name. And the first thing he ever said to me was “yeah, Diego and I are still together.” I of course being the troublesome 17 year old I continued on the conversation like I knew who he was and what he was talking about. I added his sign name to my “buddy list” and proceeded to message him until he and Diego called it quits. That was 14 years ago.  Crazy.

Though AIM also offered some not so good or nice things. It helped facilitate the meeting for my first sexual encounter.

I was 14 years old when I messaged Trucker93313. I’m not positive, but almost certain this man was in his mid to late forties. He and I arranged through IM that I would meet him at the end of my street and he would take me back to his place, which turned out to be the sleeper of his semitruck parked in a Rite-Aid parking lot. Gross.

I justified it at the time because I wanted to know whether or not I was really gay. I had been looking at pornographic websites and feeling so much shame. (Never once did I check out women by the way.) I needed an answer and this strange man agreed to meet with me to provide one. I lied and said I was 16, like that is somehow better than 14 when the dude is sitting near a half a century, but whatever. The logic of a pubescent brain.

I walked away from that event feeling disgusted and certain I was DEFINITELY not gay. As it turned out I am most certainly a homosexual it was just this dude was that disgusting. He’d have to be to meet with an underage boy.

When I think about it, this man could have murdered me. I knew nothing about him at all and if he had my parents would have had no idea what happened to me when they woke in the morning to find that I was gone.

With the announcement of AOL ending AIM after 20 years, it has made me reflect on all the hours I spent at the computer, conversing with strangers. It really and truly changed my life on which it had a profound affect. It helped me realize and understand my sexual identity and it got me the man I would spend the rest of my life with.  I will forever be in its debt.

September 30, 2017

Jaded Surfeit Ramblings

So I finally missed a Friday. I wish I could say that it was because I was doing something so exciting and time consuming that it slipped my mind, however I was in fact watching the new episode of Will & Grace three times in a row (bringing the grand total to four.) The thought that I had to write even crossed my mind at nine o’clock but I shrugged it off. The desire just wasn’t there for me. Well, only partially missing, but it was the one that won the scrimmage in my brain. When I try and figure out what happened all I can think is that I am just super depressed. The world has spun out of control and I never know what is going to happen. The worst part of it all, is the depression has jaded me more than ever before.

I jokingly called my blog “Journal of a Jaded Josh,” mainly for the alliteration but primarily as a joke. I have some ho-hum views about perfectly mundane things. But it can’t be stressed enough that it was a joke. However, it isn’t anymore. I find myself increasingly driven to this dark perspective about life and living. My longing for the past when President Obama was in office has reached new heights. At that time I never read the news. Politics bored me. I just wasn’t interested in anything big because in the back of my mind I knew that everything would be taken care of. We would move forward with good leadership and a cool head. That sense of security has long since faded. Now I’m terrified NOT to read every piece of news and know every facet of every situation. My fear is that I’ll miss something crucial and find myself in a camp.

My loved ones think I am jumping to extreme conclusions when I say my husband and I are going to be rounded up and put into camps because we’re gay. They don’t see how that could possibly happen, but who would have ever thought it would have happened to the Jews. This administration doesn’t rely on it’s word. At all. They say one thing and literally turn around and do the complete opposite. It’s a mad house. And just recently it was announced that they want to make it legal to fire someone for being gay. I mean… I don’t think that would happen in my normal nine to five, but who knows. You learn who your true friends are when the rules no longer apply.

I get frustrated beyond belief with republicans. I truly dislike them. Yes they’re good people. They want to live a happy life just like me. And they may not agree with the vilification of gay people, but it is the fact that they elect people of power who do. That is where I draw umbrage. They look at this person and don’t think, “Well, I like what they have to say but not the gay stuff. But I’ll go ahead and vote for them anyway.” The excuse I hear ad nauseam is “Well I had no other choice.” That is bull shit. There are always other choices. There are hundreds of choices. You just happened to look at the R and ignore everything else. It’s despicable. I have zero patience for it. Hillary would not be a bumbling buffoon who can’t keep her trap shut, who at the end of the day is worried about only one person.

I still hate politics. Especially more so. I hate the lies and deceit and the money that truly runs things. Every one of them is scum and nothing can fix it, it seems. The people who have the heart to do the people’s will end up corrupted by money or pressure from their peers. Even now, given a seemingly insane individual, they rather stick to party than politics. The health care bill alone is just a way to fuck the people and help only a select few. Power and wealth corrupts. And one would think at a certain point those without the two would see the corrupted for what they are and revolt, but these sons of bitches (that’s right, not kneeling protestors), have somehow magically manipulated the masses into fighting against their own self-interest to protect their claim to wealth and power. I genuinely applaud them for their skill. That alone is astounding.

It is in this rage and futility that I finally see what drives a person to extremism or the desire to lash out. When you feel like there is nothing left to lose you are willing to watch the world burn around you.

While I saw Obama as the second coming of Christ (not literally of course because many claimed he was the anti-christ) others saw him stripping away… something. They built up this fictitious world in their mind that said he was destroying all that they held dear and in that they began to loath the system and turned on it, deciding to give it to an outsider that bragged about assaulting women and vilified minorities. And in that knowledge, I begin to wonder myself, have I built up my own fantasy? Yet when I see that people in Puerto Rico are dying and he’s bitching about peaceful protest in the NFL I realize I am justified.

So, all of this has made me jaded. I have no want for violence (however honestly it does cross my mind from time to time) because I am a pacifist… or a pussy. Whatever way you want to look at it I am want to avoid confrontation. It’s not me. Instead… I rather wallow in my misery and avoid things that give me life. And it is clear that writing gives me life. I say that it was that lack of desire that kept me from writing, but here I finish probably one of my longest posts to date.

The one good thing about this admin is it is exposing one’s true self. And when there are so few things to look forward to, that in itself is something to treasure.