How things change

It have been a while since my last writing here. There are many reasons for it, but the main one was that I was busy, in a relationship, my first gay one, and it did took up most of my time and of my thoughts.

In my last post I did reflect about addictions and how I did get involved with drugs, but mainly it was unwinding about my now ex partner and his excessive drinking. Now we have split up, and all have changed. again, as I said somewhere else it is all just the state of my mind.

I was so frustratred with the whole situation we, I was finding myself in, it did get to the point of anger and then I felt emotionally drained, as well as being really stressed out by it all. I spent most of my counselling sessions talking about why I felt that way, and now it seem all so clear. It was just not the right relationship for me.

But of course until I take a step back and look at the situation from a detached point of view, the emotions and feelings simply prevail and cloud my better judgement. In a way it was the same as when I was on drugs, too involved to have a clear view. Thankfully it seem I always get that moment of lucidity that make me see things in a rational and realistic way.

And thankfully I can find the strenght to take steps in my life that make things happen and change the way I am living my life. I hope for my sake that I will always have this ability to step back and see myself out there. I guess I should be proud of being able to make changes when I am not happy. But self esteem and apreciation of myself are not really a strong point of mine.

Anyway, since the split, I feel great, and free. Cliche' yes, but finally I have the confidence to go out there and meet new people and build relations and have fun. I guess I have now the strenght to go out there and enjoy this reborn I am experiencing. After years of drugs and isolation, I simply don't want to be on my own anymore. I need to be with people, make friends, and enjoy the time. I am getting old, and I get a shot at life only once. So better get on with it.

The relationship with my ex make me understood many things. First of all, I know now what are my needs, emotionally and phisycally, I got to understand what type of man I fancy and what I am looking for from a relationship, and ultimately from my life. It is a journey of discovery that have just started, there are many many things I need to learn and see and experience. life have just begun for me, and now I feel ready to live it. Getting tied up in a relationship full of tension and misunderstandings and issues was not a good start, but all experiences are good for my journey. Knowledge of myself is key. And I am getting it. One day at the time. As long as I have the ability to look at me and do the changes I need.

Addictions

This is a very difficult issue for me. I have been an addict to heroin for years, and now I am finally out I can only wonder how I ever did get involved to such an extent that I did not care if I did die or not.

I am writing this not for me really, but because I see it happening around me, with different abuse, still I see addiction to any substance as a way of dealing with problems, or better as a way of not dealing with them.

The person I love is turning out to be an alcoholic. Of course he does not really accept the situation he is in, but he is. I feel so powerless. My love for him is not enough for him to cut it out. For experience I know he have to admit why he look for alcohol when his mind get depressed and need to stop thinking about his problems. I know it is much more complicated than those few words.

He knows why he feel depressed, he knows why he feel he can't be happy. But I know that he can change his state of mind if he simply accept the truths of his life. He can't change what happened in his past, he can't change who he is, but he can change how he feels about it. At the moment the guilt is consuming his soul. He have no real faults, he knows it, when he get drunk he always say that he have done anything wrong. And it is true. He hasn't. Only he can't accept it.

Good thing is that he is starting to realize that he can't keep carrying on like this, as he is ruining his life, and now he sees that he is hurting me and his family. He knows we all love him and we care for him. I love and care for him. And I don't know what to do. I can love him, be there for him, try to keep him safe. But he need real help, and he have to ask for it.

For now he understand it is a problem, that is a start. I'll try to help him stop the routine and habit. He is now at a point where he drink simply out of habit, like I was taking drugs because I did not know better. It just come to a point where one feed his addiction just because it must, just to feel "better". The loop never break. The habit simply run life. No space to think what one is doing. The body and the mind demand the abuse and blindly one give in.

For me I got to a point where I saw what my life had became. An endless out of mind state, with no periods of clarity. No chance to see through the fog.
It took some doing to get help. But it can be done. The main thing is stop using. Everything come clearer in a short time. When finally I saw through, I started to understand and slowly I am making sense of my life.

He is now at the crossroad. He knows what he have to do. I was alone, it was difficult and drugs are much harder, as the body scream for relief. Thank God for Methadone.
Alcohol I think is different. He should feel better straight away, as soon as his mind clears up. His body will be fine. And I am here to support him, he is not alone as I was. He just have to find the strenght to say no to the urge. And I am here. I love him and he loves me. Everything else will come togheter. He can talk about his guilt as I do with my counsellor, or he can talk with me. But he have to let it out or addiction and guilt will keep following him.

Love

What a different emotion it is love, and I guess I am in love.

With girls in my straight days it was a different emotion. I remember I wanted to love, I thought I was loving, and I never really felt loved back. It was like the relationships with the gals were build on sex and nothing else. My emotional needs felt completely out of place, as I felt I was looking for  something the ladies could not give to me. It is difficult to put into words, but girls were a forced thing. And I did not understand why I could not made them love me. Probably some of them did, but I never felt it. After the sex had lost its initial exciting appeal, there was nothing left. Very depressing. And anyway I felt always on a different level. Never really connected, and what is more disconcerting when I think about it is that I never started a relationship, with any of them. I have been proposed by all of them. One even jumped in my bed, with me protesting, but she wanted to be with me, and I let her.

It just did not feel right, so I never looked for it. I understand now, but at the time I thought that I was simply waiting for the right girl. 

Since accepting my sexuality I have been looking back at all those episodes in my life. I did go with a girl after I had some encounter with a guy. I guess I wanted to demonstrate to myself I was not gay. But then I did not relate things at all. 

So I never felt much, apart from being uncomfortable, and at times I felt used. And they never lasted long anyway.

With H it is a revelation. I feel him, especially after the last arguing we had, we have turned a corner. We want to be togheter and we will work out our fears and frustrations. I feel when I am with him as I never  felt. I am completely out and comfortable with him, and he is with me. 

It is like being complete, I don't need anything or anyone if he is with me. We compensate and support each other. It is the most wonderful of sensations knowing that he miss me and he think of me. The trust I have is complete. He will break me if he abuse my love. And he is not. That much I know. I thought I could never trust anyone with my feelings, but I trust him. I love him and miss hin all the time.

I know this is a honeymoon period, and that probably we will settle for a more relaxed relationship, but I know we are growing togheter and we will learn every day. I am so happy. He is my first love. Right now I think he is the one I want to grow with. But it is early days and life is impredictable. But the security of him is the best feeling I ever had.   

Anger

I have been in an emotional roller coaster since the last post I did wrote. 

The counselling was actually really helpful, we just got to the basics, as family and where I come from. I did outlined my life and got to connect emotions and situations. It was all stuff I knew, I did worked it out already, but the simple fact of hearing it loud and the feed back I got on my thoughts, made it real and the realisation of it just made me cry and cry.

 It is good. I can start to look back at my life without getting overwhelmed by guilt and inadequacy. I mean those feelings are there, they affect my life every day, but I can now get to work and try not to made them ruin this new life that I am beginning to live. This is me as it should have been since long ago, if only I had not strayed. I feel like now I finally have the opportunity to live as I wish, as opposed to how I lived in result of situations I did not looked for.

This is my time, time for Alex to come out and get going, true to myself. It is excting and scary, probably, but I will not run any more, I will not hide with drugs and I will not mask my feelings and fears behind a shy facade. That is not me. I am outgoing and happy going chap. 

I am still wary of people that share my life, as almost no one knows who I really am, they only knows what I told them, no family and single. No one really knows of my past as a junkie, as I always hided it very well, and no one know my sexuality as I did not know myself.

My boyfriend knows about everything, from family to drugs, some good friends knows about what it  means to me, and there is probably no need to let anyone else into it.

Now I must learn how to deal with the insecurities and the anger I feel when I am powerless. The insecurities I know come from the family, but the anger is a coping mechanism that I never really explored. It is a state of mind that very quickly pass, none the less I can be scary. I am not violent at all, still I can be very loud and probably intimidating. I will work on it with the the help of the counselling. 

I almost lost my man because of my reactions to situations that I escalated. Looking back I could have simply let go and let the situation run its course. No anger and no scare. But hindsight is great the day after, isn't it? I just need to be more cool about things I can't control, or at least that I thought I could control. Amyway every mistake is a new chance to learn about myself.

What is interesting is that I see what is happening when I get into this shouting sessions, I see that is going to happen and that I will be horrible, still the urge to get it out of my chest is stronger. I need to get it out so that there is no mistake about how I am feeling towards the situation. It is normally the frustration of being done wrong, and consequently I feel entitled to my five minutes of madness. I know there are better way to vent my stress, but at least after I got it out I can move on. It is all very quick. I never keep a grudge. Maybe it is the wrong way, but it is the best way I know.

Maybe I will learn differently. How I would like to be able to be cool all the time, but than probably I would have to unwind some other way. People use drugs, drink or burn energy in the gym, among other things. Excluding diink and drugs, I probably have to start going to the gym, lol.

Anyway, I'll learn. For a better me.

Counselling

Tomorrow I will have my first session with a counsellor about my drugs history. I booked this long ago, two months or so. Then i was still pretty confused about everything, now I feel all is much clear.

It is a bit nagging that I do not what to expect, but more is the feeling that I do not need it. Or better say I do not need it for the drugs. I know I used drugs as an escape route from my family struggles and to a lesser degree from my lies over my sexuality. I guess there is a lot to talk about, and I will feel it is worth the time if she can help me to unravel my present feelings.

The way I see it is that counselling on the only basis of helping on not to go back to drugs is now pointless. I am not stupid enough to ruin my life again, especially now that I am starting to enjoy myself. I know anything could happen to me, but I know even better that getting back on drugs would not be the answer for any problem that could arise. As I feel now, my life is worth my two cents and I am happy with it. When I got involved with drugs heavily, it was as a wish to die. Nothing was worth the hassle to go through the day. I learned that my soul is worth more than enough. Nothing will change that. I am not a bad person and I can be proud of myself, even with all my issues and past.

So what is the point to get there tomorrow morning?
I hope she will be able to unlock my fears of rejection and my insecurities as a human being. I hope she will be able to make me understand why I feel so starving and in need to be loved. I know it is all rooted with mother and family, but at times it seems too simplistic. I need to actually get down to it and analyze myself to finally get over my past. Will it be her brief? Probably she will just say that I need a therapist or worst.

I am not worried, but it would be nice given the chance to really understand on a more analitic level my past and consequently my present. I know I am feeling good about just about everything in my life, I have more confidence and I live more intensely than I ever did.

Still I am afraid that if I can't understand my emotional needs I will never be able to share my love unconditionally with anyone.

Feeling again

The responsability to feel again is the most scary thing. I have never been very good in managing my feelings, and my thoughts. I am re-learning to think again without getting tangled with my feelings.

I find myself dividing my past in chodhood, teenage years, black hole and adulthood. I am missing a whole set of emotions. I can only look back. And I do not feel anything for my drug years. I can't really rermember any emotion. I can really start to understand what I did to myself. I did walk in a different dimension, a fake world of self told lies and deceit. For years I told myself that I was not worth the trouble. For years I really believed to be an insesible monster, my hearth hard as a stone, incapable and unwilling to love and feel without getting hurt or without giving out pain. All my relationships had failed and as a result I was a failure. The responsability of having feelings had almost destroyed me, so intense and confused I was.

It is true, first of all mother, brother and friends. A whole set of people that were tightly connected with family and later drugs. I was not able to understand my feelings, the confusion in my head. The responsability I felt for mother survival and welfare, the emotional and practical demands of a deeply depressed woman, combined with the loneliness, the inability to talk with friends and my despair. All in a circle, coming out of the house in search of a lighter enviroment to relieve my mind, friends with whom I could not relate, working to pay the bills, back home to a faked normality and not understood feelings.

Drugs were just the perfect thing to not think about anything. This trips we all took together, everyone running from his own demons, or drinking to oblivion for no reason at all. The lies we told each other, to justify ourselves, already hiding behind some kind of macho facade, strong guys can do drugs for no reason. What a bullshit. Everyone of us had issues, parents, school, jobs and life, any excuse just to get out of our minds. The more problems, the more heavy the use. Until one day I find myself with a needle in my arm. The biggest trip of all. Complete leave of the senses. I got really scared when I came back from that trip. I was the worst of them all. I had no safety net and I was in free fall. It was scary, as I did not care. I knew somehow what would happen. I knew I was going to lose what was left of my life. I knew and I did it anyway. I had no balls to step back and see. I had no reason to. Mother was all I had and I was bad for her.

I now realise my drug use was a way out, in a way a survival route. I did try to kill myself. Tablets. I ended up in hospital for three days. When I came out of there I took off in search of a job, the more distant from her the better. My body already craving the heroin, my mind weak, with no emotional support, I came to the UK in a bid to destroy myself, out of the way, willing and ready to go back only in a coffin.

All of my feelings for for family and friends were mangled with guilt, fear and my own pity. I was not able to clear and divide the various emotions, unable to understand the gloom of it all. Coming to England I lost the will to be resposible for my thoughts and feelings. I stopped caring for anyone as I did not care for myself. Downhill with my arse on the ground on a bumpy ride.
I did not feel. I manage to achieve my goal for a painless life.

I am ashamed. I am not sorrow, I will not apologise for any of it. I felt how I felt and acted as I acted. that is why I am now. A friend told me that I am finally living my life as I really want. Caring, considerate and happy. I agree. I am learning to understand my mind and its needs. I feel certainly not confused.
I know what I want, I know what I like and I know how to go about it. I have matured in an adult man. I am proud I changed my life but I can't stop wondering if I paid a very hefty price for my present being.

I guess that if I did not have to deal with mother depression, my drug use would not have been an addiction and my sexuality could have been lived in a different way.
Life is a bitch. Now I know. I can deal with it.

Attitudes

Now, this is going to be very interesting, the actual mingling again with people I considered almost friends for a long time. I am getting back to work in a restaurant just opposite the one I spent my last seven years. We all know each other and I am curious about the attitudes of my old mates.

I said almost friends simply because Ialways had to lie to some extent because of my drugs. No one ever knew and ever will, probably, that I was using. With a position to maintain I have always threaded carefully, refining with time the art of hiding.

Now is going to be different. I am not ashamed of being gay, so it is bound to come out soon or later. I di not really know how to behave.
I got the first taste last night, I met with a friend and colleague, an old mate, and we got talking about gay and what it means. At least they told their experiences on the night out they had in a gay club. I did not say I am, they did not ask actually, but I made clear the we are normal people, we do not bite and there is no need to get scared. But that was the underlining feeling, in gay company rhey feel threatened and consequently do not relax. But I guess their scare is just ignorance. I was almost to tell C I am gay, I am Alex, the one you know and respect as a friend. It is me, do not be scared. Than I thought better as the evening was not exactly the best opportunity. But I will tell him, I want him to know. And I give him credit, so I will try.

This take me to the world at large. I guess I have to start thinking in rights on the work enviroment. Awkward. But I have to if I do not want to get tramped by my fears of losing the job or inside bullshit. I need to put into my mind that my skills and abilities are the only things that counts, as they have always been. Drugs never influenced my career, my sexuality is my business only. As it was my addiction.

Thing is that it will be more difficult. In my kitchen, I always tried to keep a better level of conversation than just sex and women. Still, some people do not think or talk about anything else.
Any way I will answer truthfully and with as much pride as I can muster to the inevitable question " But, why?....Are you gay?" .

I have to say I never have never seen anything remotely bad down here towards our community, but it is true I never lived in the commubity. So it is going to be a learning curve. Attitudes in Brighton are famously liberal, this the gay UK capital, but on a personal knowledge, I do not know.

Expectations ( part 2 )

I need to be wanted. This is something probably many do not even consider.
I guess I am the only one to feel how I feel. Maybe it is just wishful thinking, no one else who feel so badly wanted, for a lack of basic love. It made me still wet my eyes and bleed my heart.

I guess what have been my life affected me more than I would like to know.

But I want to understand. What bother me really is the fear of not being capable of love without hurting someone. I need to work out why I feel the need to be reassured all the times. I cannot think rationally on this, I feel lost, again.
At least I can be practical and write about it, and maybe I get to spot who I am.

It all go back to mother, as in any of my being, all go back to her. I simply accepted her truths, never really questioned them. Especially the truths about me. Too scary or too far away with the fairies.

I have this need to be reassured that it is all fine, pleasuring the personal bond and intimacy, no judgement and no lessons to be learned, just feel the warm of her body and the sweetness of our souls .

Mother use to made me feel like that, but I lost that bond along the way.
Too early I find myself longing for that security, I lost her, in the midst of our stupid lives and crises, we lost how to get to the basic love, the one I can work around, the one I can use to support me when I fail and fall. I learned that I had to pick myself up without her, and for a long time I wobbled under the strain of the loss and realisation that I had to move on, mother can't do anything else for me, and I can't help her.

There was a time I thought she was the only reason I had to live. It took me time to understand I owe to her I am here, but my life is my business. We did not know how to deal with each other, I did not know how to deal with her, and now she is the past, distant and raw, still influencing me and my feelings. I need to put into my mind that I cannot do anything about it all. I cannot and do not want to have her dictating my feelings and needs.

I want to love in a clean and pure way, I need to give myself with no reservations, I need to feel again that security she cannot give me.

I know, it is not fair on who will share my bed, but this is something I need to regain, the security of being loved. I must not let my expectations run riot with no restraints.
I really do not want to suffocate the relationship with H with my insecurities.
I can't pretend from him to care and love me, only he can feel my needs and respond to them.

I am trying to get him in my arms and reassure him that I will look after him, but I fear that is not what he want. To be true I have no idea what he need, i see he is insecure, and I try to love him, I try to make him see that to me he is a beautiful and attracting soul.

Then i think that maybe he is not ready to let go to me, I think I am too much for him, I need him to show me somehow that he feel for me as he says. But I do not feel it, and I start to wonder why, mind overdrive is assured.

But it is good, because I can explore my expectations and needs, and I can work out how to go about it. If it was up to me I would be on call and text every minute we are not together, thinking of him every minute. Then I realise that probably he does not want to, too much attention and commitment. I know it is idiotic to expect him to fall head over heels, but I am this way, romantic and passionate, needful and demanding. Too much to bear.

It is just that he give out some signals, and I want to hope, and wait. I will give it time, dealing with my expectations. If he want to be with me he will show me what he need, taking me out of this paranoia that is already gripping me.

Girls, same story. Needed and expected to be understood. Never happened.

I hope I will find a guy that can see where I came from, take my hand and try together to mould our souls to fit each other. I can only dream and hope, I can only treat my expectations for what they are, needs that can only be addressed but impossible to eliminate. I need to grow up and take the lead of my emotions.

Expectations

I have met a very nice and shy guy. He is even more inexperienced than me in relationships.
I like him very much, I said to him he bring me out, this is the only term I can use for the state I am when with him.

I need to learn how my feelings works. I love H, he is younger than me, we could grow and experience together and build something for us. Of course this is the whole picture if all the pieces were right. Experience tell me that it is possible but improbable. He is not really confident, I see him, as a good person in danger of getting hurt from this bloody jungle we live in. He is not stupid, he thread carefully, but this does not mean he is safe. Distant family and insecurities are something I can certainly relate to.

He say he is happy we found each other, as I am, we feel the connection between us, only difference is he is scared to follow his istincts. He restrain himself from even taking my hand, too scared of what people could think. I try to relax him, I say to him that we are in Brighton, we are together and I will look after him. But he is comfortable only in a bar or club, dim lights and drunk.

Later home he just clams up. To tell the truth for now I am content to just cuddle him and kissing him all over, I can even snatch the odd kiss, but I feel the restrain. He say he need to get slow, and that is very much fine, but then my insecurities comes into play, the fear that i am just too much for him.
I am Italian, my blood is boiling, I need to pleasure him, that is how I am, I always knew I am passionate, But he does not respond much. I touch his skin, give him little kisses all over, cuddle him, I keep him in my arms, and he does not respond. I know this is only my expectations to build a nice relationship, my long repressed love, but he is starting from a completely different distance. I understand I have to let him be, if he want just to be togheter, we can just be togheter.

I am tactile and passionate, that is the best way I know to love him, but I have to find another way.

I can care for him, I can look after him, but do I want a friend? We have not much in common that I can see, but we are good together. We can discover each other and please and compromise each oter, it would be actually beautiful, I do like him, but he is still not really responding to me.
The problem is that I want him, but I am not really sure he wants me. I guess I have too much baggage to be content with a couple of calls and a night out. In bed he does stop me to make him come, as afraid he is going to like it. And he do like it.

I do not know what make him so scared, if indeed he is scared, I want to learn how to pleasure him, and I feel I am too much for him because I ask him why he does not let me.
He says he does not know, I hope he let me help to understand.

I look at it from his point, and I can understand him,
I have to made him trust me, I feel he like me too, but we have to work on it.
I hope he is mature enough to work with me. He is such a great and gentle soul.

I am observing myself and my actions from a stable ground, I see my behaviour and I can control myself. This is very good news for me, I am taking responsabolity for what I do. It took me a long time, but I can see I can be content with my life, with no guilt shame and recrimination on myself.

It is amazing that I can think of someone. Whatever will happen with H, I am learning from him a great deal. I want to share it with him. I can only hope.

Friends.

Friends are a strange entity in my life. Friend is the magic word.

I had always counted on friendship, friends are my only support, and that is the truth.
After me I can only ask a friend when I am in deep water. Or at least that is my interpretation and expectation of it.
I guess I ask too much.

Actually I want to get it differently. I use to be completely dependant emotionally on friends, and I can see that was one of my major misjudgment.
It was definitely unfair on them. Obviously friends are friends, everyone have his life. I can be a part of that but not more than that. There was a time when I believed in friends, like in books, like in some kind of Stephen King story. Obviously it is not.
I believed in best friend too, You know, the one that stick with you, whatever the weather.Like Tom Saywer and Huckleberry Finn. Obviouly it is not.
I did never get it. My feelings, emotions, needs of exclusivity and belonging, the feeling of being important for someone, anyone, those feelings of anger and delusion, they just clouded the bigger picture.
To tell the truth I never looked at the bigger picture. I never knew there was a picture to look at. But i guess that come with experience. It does really make all sense.

I am realising the my epiphany. as someone called it in gaylife, was just the start of the whole process of discovery. I am looking back at my past to understand who i am today. I am retracing my steps, and where there were hazy memories, now I see facts and consequences. I am putting the words under the pictures.
To be fair on myself I did try before, but always failed to see the meaning of it all.
I do not if for the detox or my acceptance, I am now connecting the dots. I feel very very good about it. It is a great confidence booster.
In two weeks I met and talked to so many people, gay and straight, old and new, and I am foundinf that I am a chatty guy, I finally feel normal, what an irony.
I am a partecipant on the circus of life. I have gone from apathy to full head up attitude, and it is really working. I feel confident. .I can still mix and minge, like in my younger years.

From now i have to be able to rein my emotions and be really sensible with people around me. I was like a blood sucker. My expectations were always too high. I need to give time and space to everyone. I will unleash myself easily without drama. I will reserve my energy for the man that, I hope, will come into my life. I cannot pretend to be understood or loved from friends.
My passion and emotion I will leave for my lover.

For the sake of my future friends, I hope to get laid soon. Funny ah?!!?
Really I have to manage my feelings better. I do not want to waste my needs.

I have to try. Already I can see that with every person I meet or any cyber friend I get, I behave like a jerk. I feel that I have to get myself naked before I can be really comfortable. I need to talk about me, I need to tell my story;
I feel like I am justifyng myself for who I am. I fear of not being understood, so I give my soul out, thought by thought, word by word. I need to explain why i got to this point in this state.

But now I see better, I see what is happening and I am trying to behave. I guess more than depressed, I was simply repressed. I just hope that after those initial times I will come down. Writing my thoughts is certainly a focus, and seeing on a page make it real and I can understand it.

Still it is difficult to keep to the general chat. Now I have to follow some interest and than I will be able to play my part, no problem.

I have to try not to suffocate people that are getting near me.

Or maybe I can talk about myself without guilt. I do not have to get naked in front of "friends". I will let them strip me on their own pace, if they want at all.

Roots

A friend of mine send me a link of the city where he live, and it got me thinking. I have no roots.
I am completely without a place that I can call home. I mean I have been here in Brighton for seven years, lived in the same flat for almost three, and I like it very much, but unless I got involved in some group or I pursue some hobby or interest, I could be everywhere.

It is worrying that I always felt this way. I have moved a lot, I still remember how pissed I was with my bags in train stations, it really felt shit having to drag two or three bags full of my life. I took the conscious decision never to get a fig about stuff, just in case I had to move. I have no history, no photos of when I was a kid, no mementos even of later life, only because it was a struggle to keep them. I had no safe house were to put the important things in my life.

Now I have the prospect of a move to Greece for the summer season, I did not get the intervirw yet, so it is very early days, but my head is already in overdrive. I have to consider making this city my hometown. I guess I am thinking already too much.

My point is that I came to Brighton because it is a tourist spot, and with my job it is a bonus. Only now, courtesy of the credit crunch, jobs are scarce. With my infinite wisdom and luck I get myself out of a job and into a trip of self discovery. I knew I needed a holiday after non stop years of struggle, but I did not expect to be so dramatic to me. Thank God, I needed it all.

Anyway, I got now the chance to go and do the summer season in Greece, and after that the chance of winter season somewhere else. Season work is a great way of making money and suck up the surroundings and activities, in Italy on the Alps I used to go walking, beautiful scenery and ( almost ) peace of mind. I did love it.

The attraction for Greece is great, I can get a fresh start, no one knows me, I can be who I am, meet new people and form relationships, specially in a big hotel resort, with lot of other people around. It could be really good for me, I am feeling much better and I just need to jump in, it is a great chance.

More than that, I have become a recluse, with no interests, apart this computer, and it is not enough anymore. I need to really get out and do something I can enjoy and unwind with.
Free water activities are a perk of the job, I would love to dive or really learn to swim, I need to tone my body and get myself in good shape. I have never been a fanatic of fitness, but I really need to re- learn how to take care of my body.

I could start here with at least a daily run on the beach, but I am bloody lazy. I had never even been to the beach here, can you believe it? It is absolutely vile and disgraceful. Me, not the beach. The beach is beautiful. I liked to feel my body when I was younger, it gave me a nice boost of confidence. I felt sexy actually. Anyway, water sports is another good reason for me to go.

My only problem with all of this is my flat, it is small but cosy, I like it and it fits me. I would be sorry to lose it. In my early seasons, in between posts I used to mother's home, it was a good compromise on not having to live 24/7 with her. I got some respite. Now if I start again I should live on the go for long periods, in some rented room, and the idea is not really appealing. After months of hard work I 'll prefer somewhere more homely.

I was thinking of keeping this, I could manage no problem, keys in my pocket, security of sort.
Or I can just get with the flow and see what happen, without parachute, I did it in the past and I always landed, somehow, on my feet. But I feel I am too old for it. I need to know where is my place. Moving life again, that is a thought. I feel fine here, I have a small safety net if something happen.

This will be probably my next big decision of this new life, see where I have to put roots. I do not mind if it is going to be here, but I would like to check if there are other places where I could really go and finish my days, happy with myself, hobbies and relationships. I like the outdoors of New Zealand, or Australia. Maybe I should look for a job over there. Why not?

My point exactly.

I promised to myself tomorrow morning I'll go running.

Mistakes

I am happy to be gay, finally I feel comfortable.

I got over the nagging thought I had that maybe I was not. Only reason I thought of it is because while I see the signals every gay man give out, I do not see them in myself.
Luckily I have been able to relax a bit with new friends and it made me loose. I can be lovely and wonderful and funny and bitchy and very gay indeed if I just let me.

I am learning, it is early days, but I see me and I like me.

I realised that I need to be in contact with others, I know it is a truth of life, but I never felt able to. At work everybody needed something, specially as I led a team of people. As a junkie the only people I met were to get the next score.So no real contact, only opportunism of some kind.

I got so used to it that I lost the ability, the naturality to relate to others without an agenda of sort. I just locked my better and sensitive part, scared of anyone having an opionion of me. It really got me. Only now that I am writing these words I can see how much it cost me the mistake of not knowing what I was doing when I first got to see me.

I got so scared that I lost complete contact with reality and others.

I first discovered that there was the chance I could really be gay at 16. Until then my experiences with Andrea at college were nice at the moment, but I hated them later. I did put that down to perversion, as was in the parameter of my upbringing.

When I entered the working world, I started to see the diversity of it all, peoples and lifestyles presented to me and I was happy to try and find the best people that fitted me. I was looking for my place; the family one was lost long before, with the ties still there. I tried to be myself.

What really puzzle me is the reaction I got from the family. My whole life no one cared what I was doing and feeling, and when I looked out in the world I got kicked down again. I should have lied to them from the start, the problem is that I never understood myself and what I was seeing.

I mean when I met a girl that had gay friends and had a "label" as easy and dubbing with drugs, no one explained to me why it was wrong for me to be friend with her. Elena was really the start of my "problems". Of course she was the manifestation of them.

She was older, had a bi husband ( he worked with me), and smoked some weed. Oh, and she had gay friends. All in all bad company, or that is what mother and brother thought.
Instead of making me reflect why I was attract to her, they just cut my privileges and locked me. I could only go to work, possibly on a different shift than Elena husband.

My reaction to it was to believe that my attraction to her was because I liked her as a woman.
I know that she gave me my first fuck at 17. After that she knew I was gay. She told me. She made meet other gays.
I knew she was right because her husband gave me a blow job, plus my past experiences at school and the perverts I met. but I had no courage to admit it. Elena was simply trying to help me because she saw that I was not happy. Mother could help,maybe, but I was in no position to express my feelngs to her. The mistake of my life is that I did not give mother a chance to see me. But my experience with her was not a good one. Elena was bringing me out, in all senses, she taught me to be open to my feelings. I took that teaching and used it on mother. I told her I felt distant from her. She reacted mentally, and that was what i saw then.

I lost the support of Elena because of mother and because i was not able to communicate with her. I will always regret that.

The truth is that after that I felt that I was alone. Elena tried to should me who I was, but she did not have the time. We got separated and I kept thinking I was wrong, feeling how I felt. Believing I was wrong did not give me the confidence to go to mother for help. It was not good to be on the wrong side of anything with her. When I told her I felt distant from her, I was honest. But I did not said I was not loving her. I guess that is what she understood, though.

After Elena it was a constant battle, my teenage rebellious phase became a struggle for life. My only way of not get emotionally crushed was drugs. What I needed was some friends, and when I realized I had none, I started my junkie career. It was too late to go back, and mother was getting even more distant because of my weaknesses. I do blame her for not taking me into her arms and making me understand. I know she could have done so, if it was not for her own depression. Still, we did not find a way to meet. I can only say that I tried several times, but I was met only with her depression. I tried to understand her, but there was no common ground. Only hate and anger.

When I got hooked on drugs, I slowly retired into the cocoon I was building for me, I needed love and needed to be loved. Friends where good, but not good enough. I needed more than friendship, I tried to convince myself differently, but it only made it worst. Drugs get me to believe nothing was important. I thought I did not need anyone. Just get fixed and you will OK. I did believe my own lies.

In the process I lost my social skills. I did not have any good time if I was not on drugs. So first I did get stoned, and after I did not need anyone, I did not like to be with anyone, I could not fit.

And now I am looking back and I can see it all. I made so many mistakes. I ruined my life because I did not know how to handle the situations.

I am trying to see the bigger picture. I feel I should find mother and ask for forgiveness, but it is too late, as everything it would made no difference to me. And to her would be probably an opening of old wounds. I hope she can feel my love and my sorrow, though.

Insecurities

How is it possible that I cannot clear my mind, ever? Why I cannot let myself go of this past that I want to forget?

Over the years I lost complete touch with myself and thank God I am finding my soul once again.

When I was younger, in between my shit teenage years and my nowilloflive years, I did have some good years. It was a time of independence, freedom and friends. This was no doubt due to my lack of regular contact with was left of my family.

I had a good job that helped my independence, I felt I was making a career of a job that was not really chosen from me, as it was mother that decided for me. But now I was able to see that just may be it was not at all a bad place to be. I was far away from home, settling in a good company of friends. I think they have been the most welcoming people I ever found.

I was an outsider, coming from an other part of Italy, wiyh no friends or family to speak of, those guys simply took me in, and I will always remember them.
In those times friendship was everything for me, and I mean it, as they were the only support I could get, on both practical and emotional level.

I was may be a couple of years older than them ,and until then I never had the chance to be a teenager, with all the picks and pitfalls that it entails. They just let me in and I was grateful, even if at times I hoped for more, as I was already emotionally starved. But I was happy, good friends and good outdoor life in those beautiful hills that lay around Padua. I felt like I was finally having a chance to realise something with my life.

What was different from everything that came before, was the freedom to be who I wanted to be. Thinking of how fresh was for me to be able to laugh, to cry,to feel , to be even sad or moody.
Whatever the issue was, we all worked together to make sure the whole group was in tune and had a good time together. Really good times for me. I am sure that if things had gone differently, just may be I would had discovered my gayness much earlier.

It is almost funny now to look back. Now that my mind is clearing up, my memories are coming back. It is amazing how my mind had blocked through time people, situations and feelings. I am suddenly aware of a lot of things that were important for me then, guys I liked, crushes on boys and other fleeting moments that I simply bottled up. I am slowly realising that if I think carefully at my past, there are loads and loads of missed vclues that I have always been gay.

Problem is that I never have the time or the courage, or indeed the urge to look at my sexuality. I guess my priority was mother. She dominated my thoughts. I was not what she wanted . I felt on the run all the times, trying not to let her know what I did like or what I really thought. I always thought that if I exposed to her, and I am not talking of sexuality here, the result would be to futher myself from her, and as all I wanted from her was acceptance, better not open up to her and keep it as it was. Distant and civilized, well most of the times civilized, it was a relationship of sort, waiting for a better chance of making myself true to her.

I knew that there was something different in me, as I said elsewhere, I knew boys already, early in my twenties I had already some experience with men, when I arrived in Padua I was just coming out of military service, where I felt for the first time the full on attraction for my lovely friend. Marco. He was my first real crush, today I think he did not know himself, as neither did I, and if we had a different outlook of life, we would have declared our love for each other.

I know, it is wishful thinking, but he was my first love. I only know that I loose all my inhibitions with him, I touched him, kissed him, slept with him, played with him socialised with him, and the best thing is that he was doing all this thing with me. He responded to me. We were attracted to each other. We talked of everything, and I felt wonderful.

But we never came out to each other. Today I can see it for what it was. My first love, the one that is forever. I can feel my tears mounting inside me when I think of him. I do not know what I was for him, though.

We were in military barracks, I was careless, I did not care if people looked at me strange. I guess he never felt the freedom I was proving. He did not care much about what others would think, but he was local, his family was just out of the city. He did go back most nights, so there was probably some stigma or issue there.

Again this is may be just how I remember it, all the signals were there, but we never talked in deep about that, we acknowledged our frindship but nothing more. For my part I was scared that if I simply say to him "I love you", all would disappear. I lived the moment, too scared to try to consider the possibility of losing what we had. May be it will come out as the biggest mistake of my life, not tell him my true feelings. It was easier at the time.

If for any luck he had made me accept I was gay, I would have to tell mother. No good. Best shut up and do not rock the boat.

I did not see, it was in front of me. If only my mind had been less troubled, today I would be in a better position. I am sure.

As it did go, my uneasiness with it all, mother to deal, my complex of inferiority to her, and at a different level my feelings for Marco, my attraction to him, my need of belonging, the acceptance of my peers and God knows what else. All pressing on me in thousand different ways, from different angles. I was not able to deal with it. I have no clue. I did not know even if I understood why I started getting hooked on drugs. I thought they make me relax, and that is yhe truth.

I needed to relieve my pressure and I did go about it in the worst possible way. Drugs tempted my mind and tricked me in a state of numbness and false pleasure. Drugs tricked me to think that if I felt moody, I could use it at will, relieving the pressure for a few houres. After a very short time my body started the physical dependancy. After a while it was not a relief valve for my mind, but a necessity for my body to function properly.

So I created another problem for myself. Another thing to hide from mother. With time drugs became the principal issue in my life, in my relationship with mother and the rest of the world. . I lost sight of my feelings,
and let drugs rule my fears and guilt when dealing with it all. By the end of it all I had lost all my friends, and mother. I was a bad person that used drugs because I was too weak to deal with my own truths. I run and run and run, wishing to just crash on a wall and die.

Years of drugs had tied up my soul and mind. Shoot that shit in your veins, stay still, do not move and do not think. Fuck my soul and everything else.

Today I am left with nothing of a life and a scarred body and mind.

Today I had freed my soul and had started the healing. I am happy with all that I have achieved, but life is still not back. I am start to feel again, sometimes I can feel that young Alex, happy and almost confident, poking out and look, but somehow there is still something that I have to learn again.
I feel that I do not know how to react with others, I am scared that they can see through me and see that after all I am not a good soul. Mother is still haunting some how.

My feeling of not being worth as a son, still rule over my feeling of achievement. What is worst is that it clips my soul. My insecurities are of not acceptance, I need a full integration of my soul to my body.I am behaving in a restraint way. I cannot let myself go. I can feel the grasp I have on my reality, but I am not confident enough to pick me up and stand proud.

Iam a better person that I was yesterday. I guess it have to be enough. The only way to amend for my past is to accept myself today.

Lover

I will wake up one more time in the arms of my beautiful lover, my blood boiling with lust, rushing through my vein, certain to explode in my brain, overwhelming my whole being, until every part of me will scream for mercy. And with mercy she will come to me, she will come for me, never to let me go again, never to leave me forever in my arms, softly murmuring her lasting promise of faithful love and restless obedience, Truthful to her every whisper take me with you, show me this fanciful world, show me true colours let me search with you every corner of this lost world let us find the feeble light that steer this needful child and take me to safety, and cuddle me with your silent lullaby. Let me hear your beautiful calling, tempt me with your tender breast offer me your sweet dreams once again, show me your motherly love, make me feel wanted like the innocent child that I was, please, please, please do not leave me alone

Mirrors (part2)

As a child I used to stare in the mirror for hours. Another one of my time fillers games. During those long after school hours, feeling alone in the house. Father always slept in the afternoon due to his night job, brother was somewhere else, out, playing with some of his older friends, and mother at work. In those days I could feel already the weight of it all, not knowing what do. Because father was next door, noise was not permitted, games were limited. At times I simply watched tv, at others I read, but I did not do much more than that. At times I did go downstairs in the cellar and many times I simply get lost watching my reflection in one of the many mirrors in the house. My preferred one mirror was the one in the bathroom. I could stay hours in there, without making a sound. The border of the bath tub was at the right height for me to seat there and see the top of the reflection of my head, looking into my eyes. I remember the distinct feeling of losing myself into my eyes, almost hypnotized by my own soul. This sense of not being, physically there but not really there. I felt my mind travelling throw my soul, looking for what I did not know , feeling the depth of this wonderful place. I was in complete awe of it. I felt comfortable and troubles free. Hour after hour. Usually I came back OK, but I have the gut feeling that at times I did hide in there. At times I think I came back physically but at a different level of my perceived reality. I came back in a different state of mind, not necessarily a good one. I think I learned how to lie to myself in front of that mirror. I lied to me, right there, in front of my own eyes. I discovered a short cut. If I did not come back completely from those trips, I would not feel my pain. the pain ceased to hurt. The pain did not matter any more. I discovered how not to feel the hurt of reality, I had simply to come back at a different level of reality, a different state of mind from that wonderful place that was my inner soul. I realise now that eventually I mastered the great skill of lying to myself. I created the perfect hiding place. It is amazing that I can now clearly understand the trip that ultimately took me to visit the scariest and deepest place in the universe, that same awe inspiring soul of mine. The state of mind that I entered in those trips, the lie that I eventually started to believe did not disappeared until very very recently. For a very long time I convinced myself that all my pain and fears were not important, I had learned where to hide in the very moment I did start to feel any kind of hurt. My lies got me throw for most of my life, as a child and later as an adult, Different guises for the same lie. The reality was that to survive I had to lie to myself. I did lost contact with my soul. Throughout my life I can remember the uneasiness of catching my reflection in any mirror, a feeling that later I associated with shame and a new kind of guilt. I learned to hate myself when I spotted me staring back.

Mirrors (part1)

Eventually I avoided mirrors altogether. Last year I find myself in front of a mirror, once again I felt the familiar urge of running for cover. And I did. But somehow, I did find the courage to take a pick at those eyes. I remember thinking that if I could put a needle under my skin, certainly I could look back at myself in a mirror. It did scared me. I did not know then the scale of the deceit I created for myself, I did not remember. My whole being was hidden behind those eyes, together with all my truths. If only I could master the courage to venture into those brown eyes, so inviting, so attracting. It took some more time. One pick at the time, everyone longer, everyone more comfortable then the one before. And eventually I spotted me. I was still there, scarred and scared, but I was there. I had been hiding for so long that I almost forgot how good I felt at those earlier times. The day I find myself still in there, waiting to be taken back on the surface of my emotions, I actually stopped taking heroin, The hiding place had served its purpose. I did not need to hide any more and eventually I got behind my eyes, into my soul and I did find that the fears and guilt of my childhood had gone, somehow I had managed to stay hidden long enough to understand and let my fears and pain go. Where was my soul? I felt empty. I had to be in front of a mirror, I had to look into me and try to feel my soul again. And I felt it, real and growing stronger, still sleepy because of the years of hiding, definitely lighter, but certainly there. And yet I did not feel the ability to avoid completely that feeling of fear of letting myself go, free to wonder into those brown eyes of mine,I knew that something else had to be thrown out before I could experience those wonderful and awe inspiring trips, before I could experience those feeling of comfort and security and achievement. I had told myself all my truths, I had cried all my tears, I had let everything out. When I did look into me once again and I had felt that after all, nothing would matter, I felt desperate. I could not go any further. I got rid of all the lies that was my life and it was still not enough. I still did not feel the whole of my being. I thought that the simple truth, the only one left, the only possible one was that after all I had lost myself. But It did not feel right, not at all. It was no right. I was there. I could feel I was there, I could feel the echo of my soul. I could not see. The desperation at my inability to found myself in there would have been a good enough reason to simply hide again, this time forever, I felt the urge to hide and to close up. I felt it, stronger and stronger. I was in free fall again, my head was spinning in total confusion, Millions of thoughts, feelings and emotions, battling, pounding and hurting, the pain so unbearable, I needed to grasp my truth, I had to, I needed to find that one thought, that one feeling that could bring me back to the surface, back to reality, back to Alex in front of a mirror. It did happen quickly. No time to think about it , no time to make up other lies. I heard myself saying out loud I AM GAY. With conviction, confident and aware that it was the only truth that could help me retain my own sanity. Everything just stopped. My thoughts were clear, my emotions at last real. This truth I did hide in the deepest of my thoughts, too fearful to even consider it , this one basic and wild truth, this key to the door of my whole being. Finally those intriguing eyes had took me back into myself, finally I am able to find my footing. Today I can once again look into my soul and rediscover all my other truths, I can learn again how to appreciate myself, how to please myself, how to fulfil my existence, how to live my only reality and finally being a man.
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Guilt

Guilt. This terrible feeling. I always felt guilt. I can feel guilt from my early recollections, guilt have been with me everywhere, constant companion of my life, not wanted but always there. Mother did teach me that the house should be clean, appearances were everything. The responsibility was ours to keep it clean. She always had other things to do, too busy with her life. The least we could for her was to keep the house clean. (!) I think mother's outlook of life was such that all she could feel was anger and later desperation. I can now see that for whatever reason she used us, family, and me, as some kind of releasing valve. She could be really hateful and spiteful, her anger probably stronger that any other feeling of hers .Her physical, mental and verbal punishment for my mistakes always ended with me marching to my bedroom, " get to your room and clean it, I will come to get you.Make sure you do it properly. Close the door, I do not want to see or hear you"r" She use to yell . I can still feel the fear that took me on another level of reality. Everything would stop to have any bearing, only fear and guilt did matter to me at those times. Sometimes I am amazed of how I did not developed some kind of obsession disorder on the home maintenance front. I am still clean and I like organisation and order, but I am not obsessed with it. My strongest childhood recollection is the one of me, sitting on my bed, imagining diamonds, sparkling in my bedroom, shining with light and colours. First I can see the prismatic games of the diamonds with the light, then I feel the guilt. I thought If I had diamonds to make my bedroom shiny and beautiful to her eyes, everything would be OK, maybe the fear I felt would go away, maybe I would not feel it any more, maybe she would open that door, she would take me back , maybe she would come and cuddle me, love me, as I needed to be. I could feel her in my soul. Why she is not coming for me? I think that in those moments of my life the seed of worthlessness that grew throughout my life was planted. I was not of any worth to her. That was my truth. My reality. The reality of this thought was that from IMAGINING diamonds, I started to BELIEVE my life was some kind of cinema trick were my life was the projection of a film titled ALEX, with me as the only spectator in a dark cinema hall. My realities were altered. Nothing did mattered, my reality dictated that it was simply a film. Nothing could hurt me. In that bedroom I did cry and I did call for mother, but she was not to come. I thought I was not of any worth to her, if I had any, certainly she would have come .(!) Guilt was my true company. Guilt of not being good enough for her. Why?. Was I that bad?? Today I can look back and see that mother had too many issues of her own to be a loving mother to us, to me. She was raised as an outsider, taken in care of relatives at an early age. I think she felt abandoned, she felt alone, and whatever step she took in life was of no comfort to her. Probably she thought a family would help her. We did not, We only make it worst. hence the anger and depression. I could feel the guilt, I could feel the fear. I could feel the confusion.That was real. The only place I could hide was that cellar. I was OK in there. When I left at the start of my career at fourteen,at college, new emotions only added to the confusion and mother started to fade away in my thoughts. The simple act of being away from her shadow, make me feel alive. I felt almost happy. Outside on my own I could feel that there was more to fear and guilt. Of course I was simply mastering the skill of bottling everything up. The reality was that I had to go back to her. I think the illusion was that I could manage on my own. I could get rid of my fear of her by being away, but the reality was that I felt guilty. I was abandoning her as others before me did. Another vicious circle of depression. To get rid of the feeling of worthlessness I had to feel more guilt for leaving her behind. After college I did stayed home, until my early twenties. By that time my guilt was steadily growing. I was no good for mother, nothing I did would help me or indeed her. I felt depressed and suicidal, just like her. Nicely done. (!) The bond with her have always been very strong, I could feel her, in my soul. When I eventually cut that bond, guilt simply overwhelmed me, but for my own sanity I took that step. It was my only option and I felt a great sense of loss. I felt a hole in my soul and it was my fault only, I cut that bond and I have to live with it. At this point in my life my career took me abroad frequently. I had no ties and a heavy soul. I tried to build different relationships, but nothing really made a difference. Drugs were starting to rule my life and nothing felt good. The clouds started to gather, the sky in my mind getting greyer by the day. The storm was unleashing. My guilt was exploding. The drugs sheltered me from it. I did run and hide for cover. I did find myself once again in another reality. That same cinema hall of an earlier age, on the screen the same film titled ALEX. It felt good. I felt tired and exhausted. I slept, for a long time After a long time, somehow, I did wake up. The darkness was more depressing then anything I had known before. All my feelings, instincts, likings and values got jumbled up, the confusion was total and for a long time I did not see a way out. I thought life was not worth living, In the rare moments of lucidity the only things I could see and feel, was more fear. My life was going no where, I was even more confused, and I could not see how to came out of it. This new guilt for not being able to act almost make me tip over. I could understand that drugs had been a big mistake but I still was not able to do anything about it. Total depression. My only prize-thought was that I had never been a real criminal. I always tried not to become one, I was lucky, as I almost failed on that account too. I had to do something to ensure my survival. I had to do something before it would been too late. My life was slipping away and I had achieved nothing. Out of fear of running out of time and thanks to a friend that showed me I was almost at rock bottom, I did manage to wake up and walk out of that reality. Finally I could see a way out. I had to shake off the drugs and exit that cinema reality I was living. Somehow I did it. Outside some menacing clouds were still hovering, but the storm was gone. The sky was clearer and eventually I did learn to live again. I took a day at the time, one step at the time. The guilt for what had been almost gone . I did understand I did make mistakes, but I paid for them , dearly. Family had exit the stage some time earlier and the life companion feelings of guilt and fear had gone. I thought I was in the clear. My soul felt less heavy. Life was looking up. I could finally start to live my life. Still. It did not felt right. Something was still keeping me under cover. I still felt depressed. Why? I had ironed all my thoughts, the past have been dealt with and yet,... what was wrong with me??(!) Then I felt it again, after a long long time I felt this new reality that was out there. And it felt right. I did felt it in the past, floating around me, rarely touching me, still, sometimes I felt in in my bones, in my soul. Suddenly I was able to understand what it was and why I never even considered it to be my reality, my truth. I felt scared, but the fear was different, very different from the one I felt until then. It was not that fear of my guilt that I knew before. I realised that I was simply scared of letting myself go. Suddenly the confusion was gone, my fears and depression did not matter any more. I felt how I could feel if I did let go, I felt the energy of this one single thought, so incredible and at the same time so true if I just could let myself go. And by God I did it . I did let go. My body instinctively felt a rushing bolt of energy that shook my whole being, lighting every corner of my soul and making me feel light and powerful, finally happy to be,, tears came as they never came before, finally able to let go, able to empty my soul of the poison that where some of my thoughts. Free, willing and able to be what I always knew I was. At last I AM Gayness, this other feeling that I felt at times in my life, always there with me, the hidden companion of my life. I realise that I had never even tried to grasp my reality, my own judgement too clouded by guilt, fear, worthlessness and drugs, too heavy in my soul to see that I had been there all along. I finally accept the truth that I am not responsible for my mother, I am not in fear of my past and I am worth living my future. The reality is one. I AM GAY All else was a state of my mind. There were never any diamonds, there was no dark cinema hall and there was no film titled ALEX. Finally I can go my way, ready to live my life. Alex

Mother

I always figured my mind , my way of reasoning, as a sort of ladder, I have to make one step at the time and configure the thought. I analize one thought, I make sense of it and then step to the next one, normally the consequence of the step before. Does is it make sense? In my past state of mind, my thinking always stopped at the step just before the understanding of the issue I was dealing with. I have analized, retraced and ultimately lost my footing so many times that by the end nothing was making any sense. My whole being was so repressed, and almost depressed, that I was really at breaking point. I let myself down very badly, I do not know how I could let it happen. I always thought of myself as an honest kind of guy, but obviously I was not, or at least not enough to make my life really worth living. I was resigned to live with my "problems", I thought I realised what my life had become and I did not care. But I could not actually look at myself in the mirror of my bathroom. I felt my eyes looking into my soul and it felt wrong, I was ashamed of myself for whatever reason. Now I know I was lying to myself. After the first years here in England, I started to come to terms with the family issues I had, or at least that's what I thought I was doing, in reality I was simply bottling everything up. I thought of family for a long time, and by the end I laid all my guilt at mother's door. She was neurotic and deeply depressed and I did not know any better as a child, so. Now I could not doing anything about it, so I put it away. All true, but I never managed to really explain to myself the knows and hows of the story. I tried so many times, and always got to nowhere. Lost. My mind was not capable of functioning rationally without emotions getting in the way of it. I lied to myself and accepted my feeling of sadness and loneliness. I probably felt sorry for myself, but deep down I was never happy with it. Again I was telling myself it was all because of her. But I knew there was more to it. You see the circle of my thoughts? Depression was the only option for me, as it was for her. And she was suicidal. Now, that get me thinking more than once. As early as I can remember, I have always been comfortable in my own company, even the loneliness I feel at time never really bother me, I learned early to cope and survive on my own. You see, for me family always meant mother and mother equalled fear. She was the boss, the one giving orders, the one to make my life a misery . My father and brother never really entered into the equation. One because of his night job, the other as an older brother that never wanted anything to do with me. So right from the start I felt I was on my own, and what is more I had to watch out for mother. At least that is how I felt as a child. In my childhood I made mistakes, I guess every child make them. I had to learn my ways, and it was mother's job how to teach me how to behave, how to live. She herself had a difficult upbringing, and I guess she did not know how to cope with a child that was needy, I always looked for cuddles and reassurance. I think she could not be for me what I needed, for whatever reason. Her way of teach me was with her hands and her feets and that tongue of hers. I try to understand now, but at the time it just shutted me. Mother simply used to beat me. One time I remember I was in bed sleeping, and the next thing I can remember is myself in the bathroom with blood on my face. My brother forgot the keys in the locked door and she could not come in after a night out. It was always me, even if I was not. She always asked the questions after, and it looked to me she never learned from my answers. I was bad. I seem to remember I stole a toy at the age five/six, I do not think I knew what I was doing, I do not think I meant to. But I was bad, so she simply felt that I would learn only throwing me out of the house. I remember walking the streets for a while until father come to look for me, poor man He did not have any saying on any issue in that house. I think he felt he was in no position to argue or to simply have a say in our upbringing. I do not really know why, but I can guess. To be fair she threw me out only two times, and the second one I was prepared for it, I simply did hide in the cellar. I spent the night in there. I felt almost safe in there. This is my first recollection of me having to cope on my own, reallly on my own. From then on I learned to equip myself emotionally and practically for the event of being left out again. And the place that felt the safer was that cellar, were I could go and be with me without fear. In there I learned to live without her. Scared but able to be free, to like what I liked, feel what I felt with no fear of making her mad if I made a mistake. After that I was not a child anymore. I can now make that last step and finally look down and see clearly, at last I have the courage to accept my life for what it is. My mistakes took me here. Mother did what she could, I am sure of it. Her life have been worst than mine anytime, that's why I cannot take myself to blame her. True it could have been different, but hey, that's life. It is amazing how now I can have a thought and being able to carry it throw up the ladder without slipping and hurting mysellf or getting lost. The simple notion of being gay have make sense of my life. I am gay, and finally accepting who I am had taken me back to my childhood. I can finally learn how to live. That cellar was the beginning of my journey. I am glad it took me here. Alex

Beginnings

Beginnings

I always  figured my mind , my way of reasoning, as a sort of ladder,  I have to make one step at the time and configure the thought.  I analize one thought,  I  make sense  of it  and then step to the next one, normally the consequence of the step before.  Does is it make sense?                                                                                                                                                                                                                 In my past state of mind,  my thinking  always stopped at the step just before the understanding of the issue I was dealing with.  I have analized, retraced and ultimately lost my footing so many times that by the end nothing was making any sense.  My whole being was  so repressed, and almost depressed, that I was really at breaking point.  I let myself down very badly, I do not know how I could let it happen.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  I always thought of myself as an honest kind of guy, but obviously I was not, or at least not enough to make my life really worth living. I was resigned to live with my "problems", I thought I realised what my life had become and I did not care. But I could not actually look at myself in the mirror of my bathroom. I felt my eyes looking into my soul and  it felt wrong, I was ashamed of myself for whatever reason. Now I know I was lying to myself.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               After the first years here in England, I started to come to terms with the family issues I had, or at least that's what I thought I was doing, in reality I was simply bottling everything   up. I thought of family for a long time, and by the end I laid all my guilt at mother's door. She was neurotic and deeply depressed and I did not know any better as a child, so. Now I could not doing anything about it, so I put it away. All true, but I never managed to really explain to myself  the knows and hows of the story.  I tried so many times, and always got to nowhere. Lost. My mind was not capable of  functioning rationally without emotions getting in the way of it. I lied to myself and accepted  my feeling of sadness and loneliness. I probably felt sorry for myself, but deep down I was never happy with it. Again I was telling myself it was all because of her. But I knew there was more to it.  You see the circle of my thoughts? Depression was the only option for me, as it was for her. And she was suicidal. Now, that get me thinking more than once.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          As early as I can remember, I have always been comfortable in my own company, even the loneliness I feel at time never really bother me, I learned early to cope and survive on my own.    You see, for me family always meant mother and mother equalled fear.  She was the boss, the one  giving orders, the one to make my life a misery . My father and brother never really entered into the equation. One because of his night job, the other as an older brother that never wanted anything to do with me. So right from the start I felt I was on my own, and what is more I had to watch out for mother. At least that is how I  felt as a child.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 In my childhood I made mistakes, I guess every child make them. I had to learn my ways,  and it was mother's job how to teach me  how to behave, how to live. She herself had a difficult upbringing, and I guess she did not know how to cope with a child that was needy, I always looked for cuddles and reassurance.  I think she could not be for me what I needed, for whatever reason. Her way of teach me was with her hands and her feets and that tongue of hers. I try to understand now, but at the time it just shutted me.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Mother simply used to beat me. One time I remember I was in bed sleeping, and the next thing I can remember  is myself in the bathroom with blood on my face. My brother forgot the keys in the locked door and she could not come in after a night out. It was always me, even if I was not. She  always asked the questions after, and it looked to me she never learned from my answers. I was bad.  I seem to remember I stole a toy at the age five/six, I do not think I knew what I was doing, I do not think I meant to. But I was bad, so she simply felt that I would learn only throwing  me out of the house. I remember walking the streets for a while until father come to look for me, poor man He did not have any saying on any issue in that house. I think he felt he was in no position to argue or to simply have a say in our upbringing. I do not really know why, but I can guess.                                                                                                                                                                               To be fair she threw me out only two times, and the second one I was prepared for it,  I simply did hide in the cellar. I spent the night in there. I felt almost safe in there. This is my first recollection of me having to cope on my own, reallly on my own. From then on I learned  to equip myself emotionally and practically for  the event of  being  left  out again. And the place that felt the safer was that cellar, were I could go and be with me without fear. In there I learned to live without her. Scared but able to be free, to like what I liked, feel what I felt with no fear of making her mad if I made a mistake.  After that I was not a child anymore.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                I can now make that last step and finally look down and see clearly, at last I have the courage to accept my life for what it is. My mistakes took me here. Mother did what she could, I am sure of it. Her life have been worst than mine anytime, that's why I cannot take myself  to blame her. True it could have been different, but hey, that's life.   It is amazing how now I can  have a thought and being able to carry it throw up the ladder without slipping and hurting mysellf or getting lost. The simple notion of being gay have make sense of my life.  I am gay, and finally accepting who I am had taken me back to my childhood. I can finally learn how to live.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       That cellar was the beginning of my journey. I am glad it took me here. Alex                                                                                      

Amazing

Amazing

Amazing, everything is falling into place. It is very very rewarding, it all seemed so complicated before. But now I finally start to understand, it is all oh so simple. The reason why I felt for all my adult life so depressed and unable to belong                                                                                                           .                                                                                                                                                                                      The amazing thing is that the answer have always been there. I am gay , I was born gay, but never wanted to even start consider looking into my soul to search for it.  I  did never understood why all my reasoning never took me anywhere. I did put up a wall around me and hided behind it.                                                                                                                                                                                                I used to think that my depression was a result of that blasted familly of mine, a result of all the years  on my own, with heroin as my only way of living. How wrong I misjudged the whole situation. But know finally I am starting to get my feelings and emotions back, I FEEL ALIVE for the first time in a long time, and it is amazing, really amazing.  My body is getting sensations back, my thoughts are clearer as they had never been.                                                                                                                                                                                               Now I can see , every single step I took, consciounsly or unconsciounsly, had been the result of my hiding by myself, and what is more I can see how I lied to myself  without really realising  I was. My addiction had kept me under a thick cloud of nothingness. For twenty years I have been hiding , sure that my life was not really worth anything anymore. And I almost manage to believe my own lies. All the justifications I made to myself, trying to con myself that there was no way out. I thought I was dying. But now I understand.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               And is amazing and wonderful  not having to hide anymore. My feelings are coming back and I feel happy. I can start to love myself for what I am. No more hiding for me, thank you very much. I never thought I would accept myself. My big mistake have been to think that all my problems were a consequence of not having a family around me, or that I was simply a junkie. I never digged into it, for fear of realising that I was a bad person, even when every bone in my body  was telling me I wasn't. And so the confusion and depression.                                                                                                                                                                                                                              But today I stand up , tall and proud that finally everything make sense, everything fit. I know I need help and I have to express myself, this diary is certainly of help. Today I asked my drug counsellor about some kind of therapy to get everything out of mt system.  Alex       

Awakening

Awakening

My name is Alex and I am 38. Today I cried, for relief and fear. Until recently my mind was clouded by drug use and self destruction, I guess. After 20 years of struggle with my past and the consequences of it suddenly today I dropped the denial that I have maintained all my life. And it felt very good indeed.I do not want to annoy any one but it look like I have to explain myself to myself. Until last summer I tought my life path was set in stone. I was a junkie with very bad addiction, no family, no friends and no real knowledge of myself.. My mother was, and I Think still is, very depressed and very strict. She had her own baggage, now I understand, but at the time I was very scared of her, she used her hands freely, sometime heavily on both me and my brother.  He never really tried to be friendly with me, he is four years older than me and always resented me for being born, or so the story goes. My father was probably a good guy, but completely subdued to my mother, as all of us were. He left when I was nine. By the time I was in my twenties I had a heroin addiction, not many friends and the relationship with my mother was at breaking point. My job as a chef always maintained my addiction and took me places. At 26 I come in the UK on the conscious decision to cut all ties wiyh my family and my life in my homeland. I came here because I wanted to die on drugs, as high as I could go, that was my state of mind, completely hopeless and with no consideration for me or my body. Nothing did mattered any more. Today I am 38 , bearing the phisical and mental scars, paying the price for that mistake. I always led a lonely life, always scared that everything i did was wrong. The only place I found to feel safe was the cellar under the block of flats where I lived. In there I could hear and see if she was coming for me, and it felt safe to know I had that little advantage. In there there were my dad old comics and classic books, so I read and hide. And I started playing with myself, and I liked it and felt guilty about it. I felt bad but I did like it. As the years passed I started to think that I was not really normal to have those strange feelings and experiences, but life did go on, I had some not memorable experiences with girls, putting on the back of my mind my cellar days, trying to balance my family life with my teenage years. At about 15 I got a saturday job in a print shop, the owner was a sweet bachelor that today you would probably call a paedophile, thank God he just touched me. He scared me out for sure but it got me thinking again about my feelings and likings, my sexuality. By now I was going at a live in college, away from home and for the first time free. I was having oral sex with my room mate almost straight away, but we never talked about it. The familiar feeling of guilt and anormality make me hate my room mate and I asked to change room. During this early years of travel I had another two or three encounters with peadophiles, the last time I almost had full sex, but I chickened out. They never really hurt me, but it make me wonder why people looked in my eyes and knew that it was OK to approach me, I never said anything. At 20 I did military service. Until now my experiences were only sexual, they were just a different way to off load. And then I met this guy and eveything changed. I think it was my first love, a feeling pretty strange to me thanks to my family, but this was wonderful. We had some beautiful times together,  we touched and cuddled and laughed, but we never get down to it. We were in military barracks, not exatly the best place to let your feelings known to everybody. That was really when I decided I would be a"straight" guy. Less problems and easier life. Probably my biggest mistake, but it was not time. Drugs started to get hold of my life and only last summer I felt that everything was wrong and something have to change. Almost in my fourties with nothing to show for it. I tried to con myself . I had some relationships with girls, but never felt right, never horny or aroused, never able to open myself to anyone. By myself sex toys and videos kept me going , even if they never satisfy me, they always make me feel stupid, after I shot I alwaysfelt dirty and wrong. All these years I almost convinced myself that I was the son of my mother, crazy, neurotic and depressed. And then last summer I finally waked up. I managed to quit heroin, throwed away all the toys, deleted all my contact numbers and started with a clean slate. In the last two months I have not be working, you see as headchef I had a good pay, but it always went on drugs. Now I can do what I want, when I have enough to pay the rent  I am OK. I am trying to understand what happened to me and why.  After weeks of emotional up and downs it downed on me. At first I tought "kick the drugs and everything will be ok", but it didn't work. Something  is still missing, maybe a family, not my mother family  but my family, I tought get out there and find a girl and get going, but again it didn't fell right. And then I understood. All of a sudden I said out loud  "I am gay". Fullstop. And everything felt right, scary but OK. And I started crying, relieved that just maybe from now on I can be Alex, gay, single with a lot of past and scars , but is OK. My biggest regret is that I lost a lot of time. I do not even have a real friend to who to come out to. And my fear is that some how I will not be able to finnd a soulmate that can help me and take by the hand. I am scared that I will die as an old sad man with too many regrets and no one to love me. I just need someone that can love me for what I am.           That's it.        

The day after

The day after

So here I am, the day after. I re-read  the post and I am already feeling the tears, I am scared. But I wake up this morning and I smiled at myself. A novelty for me, I can tell you. I read somewhere that talking down my feelings should help ( was is it Tom Cruise blog? ). Aftermy awakening  last summer I did come to understand that I cannot cheat myself any more, at first I thought that gay me was the consequence of my family and drugs history, that's why I did throw away all my toys ( arghhh...), now I just realise that I was again in hiding mode. I always thought that one doesn't become gay, simply you are born gay. "I am gay" is a statement that is true as much as the "I am a man and fellow human being" one. Until yesterday my feelings and emotions were very much confused. Every bit of thought I had about me and my history always led me to sadness and anger and pity for myself. Life have been very bleak indeed. Today I am starting to feel that the pieces will come together, I have hope. But I am scared, simply because it start making sense. The fear is that I am making another mistake, and in Alex style at that. All my life I have dealt my problems on my own, I learned to trust no one, and I took steps that destroyed my chances. I am in this world as a human being, and I always tried to be a good one, and I tought enough. But it is not enough, I need to cry and laugh without restraints, and feel that I am living, not just passing by. My family never helped and the drugs certainly did not help. My family is now long gone, and I know that drugs are another chapter, I regret only the scars on my body. My biggest fear is that no one will accept me as I am, with all my baggage. I know I cannot answer that question, I can be only myself at the moment.  Alex