charting the future
I met with my psychiatrist on Tuesday to discuss the new development in my mental health and told him I didn’t really want to start any drugs unless it was absolutely necessary. He agreed with me and asked me to begin charting my moods on a daily basis. Not sure how to do this I inquired about the availability of a mood detecting device of some kind. Perhaps a mood ring would help me to determine exactly what kind of mood I’m feeling, thus allowing for more accurate recording. His response told me he didn’t find that humorous.
Some people don’t have a sense oh humor.
I love the discussion going on in the comments about my fleeing the city post. You all took a personal decision, and the thought process behind it and ran with it. Yay you! I do however have a small request cause I can’t seem to keep all the anonymous peoples seperated, please at least put down your first name. (your e-mail would be great too so I can follow-up with you in private).
I have several new goals all of the sudden. Since I’ve been on a few dates with the man that re-introduced passion into my life, I’ve become jealous of his flat stomach, so I’ve decided that its time for me to have a flat, toned, and hard stomach. “The man with the flat stomach” (TMWTFS) puts a smile on my face, and that’s a good thing.
So does Tom. Check out my quotes on the sidebar, I’ve added a quote from Tom from a conversation we had yesterday via e-mail. We were talking about the new logo he created for the re-design.
He’d rather be remembered for his earlier (and racy-er) quote “bitch, bitch, bitch. . . ever since the baby died”.
Which do you prefer oh faithful readers?
I have more, but work beckons. . .
June 29, 2005
please hold
much to write, no time to write it.
excited about the re-design that John is doing for me. Its totally “bitchin” if people still use that term.
i’ll have time tonight to write and I promise I will.
June 27, 2005
fleeing the city
This weekend was the annual Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Pride Festival and Parade in Chicago and I decided I’d have none of it. Even though RuPaul was performing at the festival, I would neither support nor attend this event.
“Why?” you may ask.
Other than the obvious answer, that large gatherings of “the Gays” makes me uncomfortable, I’ve gotten tired of the hypocrisy of it all. The big businesses that advertise in our parade eager to partake in our supposed large disposable incomes but can never quite step up when it comes time to speak up for us. The politicians that ride in the cars waving happily to the crowd of onlookers knowing that if push comes to shove its going to be the gay issues that get swept under the carpet when things get prickly.
Now, on the surface, these may not seem like reasons to avoid the biggest gay party of the year and they probably aren’t. I’m sure I’ll be accused of being an internalized “homophobe” or a bitter old queen. In truth, I’m neither. What I am is tired. Tired of being second-class citizens in a country slipping further into theocracy while people in power speak out of both sides of their mouth. Tired of being useful to big business because studies have shown we have large disposable incomes. Tired of the drugs and alcoholism that plague the community. Tired of the feeling that, as one of “the gays” I should want to “fit in” with the rest of society.
If Gay Pride were truly about being prideful, then it shouldn’t occur one weekend a year. It should occur every single day in the actions I take and the decisions I make. I’m not proud of a community that is full of infighting and petty arguments.
Have you ever served on a mainly gay committee? Unless there is the cool, calm head of a lesbian or two, nothing will ever get done. We can never agree to anything. Never compromise for the greater good.
Maybe its just where I am in my life, maybe its because I forgot to take my medication on Saturday, but I’m not proud of my peoples. I’m sad for us. I’m sad that the drugs are killing more and more people. I sad that bare-backing and unsafe sex has become the norm (I’m guilty of this on occasion as well). I’m sad that we don’t care enough about each other and ourselves to come together to accomplish great things. I’m sad that we lost entire generations of people. I’m sad that our leaders, our elders, and our mentors are either dead, out of touch with reality, or simply too tired of being ignored. I’m sad that the pride festival is just another opportunity to get drunk and high in the streets and have a good time.
If you looked for me in the crowds, you didn’t see me. I was home, sitting on my back porch, remembering what Pride truly means to me. To me, it means honoring those that come before, grieving those that have passed, understanding there is more to be done, but most of all, Pride is about rejoicing, not in being Gay, but in being an individual that will not be pushed into the corners. I look to the drag queens of Stonewall, tired of the injustice and harassment, rising up against the forces of oppression and taking back their freedom. Taking what was is rightfully ours. Taking back their dignity.
When “the Gays” as a community decides to follow the lead of those pissed off drag queens and fight back against injustice and discrimination, then and only then will you see me in the ranks of the cheering masses along the lines of the parade. We miss you Judy.
June 23, 2005
the loss of physical restraints
I’m torn. I’m deeply torn. As you know, I have a fondness for rather rough, kinky, nasty sex. Ever since I was a young boy, around 8 years old, I’ve had dark sexual fantasies involving everything from rope to leather to multiple dominant partners. I’ve embraced these fantasies in various times throughout my life, - most whole heartedly when I lived in San Francisco – but I’ve always had a feeling in the back of my mind that it was all a clever distraction to prevent me from getting what I really truly wanted and needed. Affection and Love.
Sure, there is a certain level of affection that comes along with the flogger striking my backside, that gentle (to intense) “kiss” of the leather as it contacts the skin; but am I risking the opportunity to find true and honest love? Will my heart still skip a beat without that electro contraption attached to various parts of my anatomy? Can passion simmer between two people without physical restraints?
I’ve recently had an experience that has forced me to pause and ponder just these questions. I’ve had the good fortune to experience some rather intense sexual situations in the weeks since International Mr. Leather departed the shores of the Chicago River. I won’t go into details, but the videos (if there are any, I really couldn’t tell you) would require a plain brown box with no cover art. In contrast, I met a gentleman recently that has cast a spell over me. I’m not complaining, mind you. I rather like what’s happening. I won’t call it dating, because I’m not sure what it is. I’m very much attracted to him both physically and intellectually. (Great body, intelligent, amazing kisser, all that)
The part that has me pondering my darker side has to do with this passion-restrained “dance” we seem to be doing. The first time we met, upon parting, there was a light, slightly awkward kiss. I thought about that kiss for hours afterward until the vodka lemonade prevented me from thinking about anything. The second meeting brought yet another “stolen” kiss. Then last night, I felt something that has been missing from my life for so long, I thought it was no longer possible for me. I felt passion.
I felt a fire ignite within me that consumed my doubts about my body and my flaws. I only wanted to kiss him more, to explore him and discover what points would make him squirm and what would make him smile. At one point, I actually said “I kinda want you to think about me this weekend.”
Whatever becomes of this, and I’m not making predictions or plans, it is nice to know that the passion I felt with him at that moment didn’t require physical restraints or safe words.
follow-up
Allow me a moment to apologize for my absence. My last post was written right after I talked with my terror-pist and I was rather raw and unsure of what the implications, if any, would be with this information. I’ve spent a fair amount of time sitting with this concept, and though it seems to answer many questions and fit with my personality, there is still much more to understand and consider before I, by any means, wholeheartedly embrace it.
That being said, I’m not quite sure how to react to the various responses I received from you, my tens of readers, and my closer friends, who I turned to for support. Some of the comments left on my blog left me scratching my head over the negativity and distrust at the diagnosis. Others, like Lord Bargain summed up exactly where my head was when I wrote my post. Thank you Lord Bargain for your understanding and composure. You damn Brits.
I appreciate all your responses, I’ve read them, sat with them and gleaned whatever I could from them.
What happens now to me? Well, I have an appointment with the pill-prescribing shrink to discuss options where I’ll take his input and consider things from there. I’m hesitant to start on any medication because I don’t want to lose the ups and downs of life, which- to me -is what life is all about. The highs and the lows. The bads make the goods better. Would I like a little more stability in my moods? Hell Yes! I’ll let you all know what happens. As if I could prevent myself from writing about it.
June 17, 2005
click
Have you ever had one of those moments where everything made sense, even if it was just for a moment, before it all crashed down into confusion? I had one yesterday in therapy.
I’ve not written much about my therapy, because, well, quite frankly, it’s personal and none of your stinking business. But what occurred yesterday has shaken my world considerably and I feel like I need to write about it to make sense of things.
While discussing various innocuous subjects, my therapist stopped me mid sentence and told me that he wanted to ask me some questions and proceeded to ask all these questions about my mood swings. How often, do they seem regularly spaced out, etc. The more he asked, the more nervous I became, wondering what he was trying to dig out of me. Then, he said something that for one moment, just one brief moment, made everything in my past fit. So many questions were answered and everything made sense.
“I think you may have Bi-Polar Type 2 disorder” He said.
I’ve thought about this many times in the past, wondering if there was something possibly wrong with me, something that was beyond my control. But every time I thought about this Bi-Polar thing, I would think about the people who swing to extremes, from excessive mania to a level of depression that I’ve never even come close to and I quickly discount the thought. As he described the details to me, I sat there in utter panic, my heart racing, my eyes watering, my mind speeding through memories and moments of my life plugging this concept into them to see if it fit.
The expensive shopping splurges (Hello, did I need a BMW?), the same day trips to Tokyo, the fact that I get all excited about something and never follow through on any of it. There are so many examples of this in my life, in my love and in my career.
Hearing those words from someone trained to know about these things gave it a level of credibility that my mind would never allow, and I sat there across from him, in complete shock, and panic. What now? What does this mean?
And through all that panic, there was a faint glimmer of hope. Hope that I could finally control my demons and actually learn how to deal with my life, learn how to follow thru on things without berating myself for failing again and again. I say faint glimmer because there was a stronger fear that maybe this was “hooey”. This was just a concept that upon further exploration would turn up to be nothing and I’d be right back where I started.
I’ve never shared this kind of thing with even my closest friends, so you should feel very close to me right now. (Not quite that close, back up a little, a little more, there, that’s better). I’m not too sure what direction this will go so I’m tentatively optimistic that there may be credence to this.
June 15, 2005
Stepping up to the plate
I commend Kraft Foods for their support of the Gay Games to be held in Chicago next summer. I commend any company that has the courage to stand up to the bullying of the American Taliban without much positive support from their customers. As such, I’ve decided that from now on, whenever I hear of a company, large or small, that is being harassed and threatened with a boycott because said company supports the rights of ALL citizens to be equal, then it is my duty to support them. From now on, I’ll send letters, e-mails, and I’ll telephone every once in a while just to check in on them and see how they’re doing. I care that much.
In a similar mode, I’ve decided to commmend companies that I do business with that step up to the plate when something is wrong. Companies that listen to their customers and make things right when they are not. Yesterday, I realized, while driving down the highway at speeds far in excess of the legal posted limit, that something wasn’t right with the new tires I bought at Costco. They were softer than the tires they replaced. Upon reading the owners manual, then comparing it to the numbers on the sidewall of the tire, I realized that the speed rating of the new tires was different than the original. I contacted Costco and explained this to them, and they said bring them back and we’ll swap them out or refund them. Fine.
I took my tires back to Costco and they gave me a full refund, no questions asked. When I say “full refund” I’m referring to the amazingly true refund of all the fees and service charges as well. The mounting fee, the tire disposal fee, etc. A full refund.
Thank you Costco for being a fair and conscientious business. I’ve heard you also treat your employees amazingly well, making sure they have health care coverage for themselves and their families. Health care coverage that is actually woorth a damn in this coountry is a rarity these days. Funny thing is, that Costco’s labor costs are half that of Wal-Mart. The reason Costco can do this is simple. The CEO believes in paying employees a fair living wage. He is willing to forgo a certain level of profit to ensure his employees are well cared for.
An amazing story in the world today. Caring more about people than profit. I’ll spend my money at Costco with much more ease than I will even walking into a Wal-Mart.
Who’s with me? Who else is getting fed up with the way things are in this country? Who else wants to cut off the power of the American Taliban? Maybe we need to follow in their footsteps, but instead of spreading hate and fear, we spread love and understanding. Lets support those that support us. Lets tell them we are thankful for what they do. I’m sure we far outnumber the numbers of the American Taliban.
I challenge everyone to join me.
Road Rage
I’m getting tired of being preached to by the holier-than-thou Christian set. This morning while commuting to my appointment I was stuck behind a car with a bumper sticker that read
“YOUR SCIENCE WILL NOT SAVE YOU”
I was stuck behind this car for close to half an hour in stop and go traffic, reading that bumper sticker, again and again. While I was sitting there behind this obvious preaching against Evolution, I started thinking about the determined creep of the Christian set into our daily lives.
Add to the ever increasing number of Christian bumper stickers and Focus on the Family boycott threats, the number of ribbon stickers of all colors and it’s enough to develop a case of road rage strong enough to want to start ramming into them, just because of their beliefs.
When I get behind a vehicle with a “W 04″ or “Bush, Cheney 04″ bumper sticker (usually a hulking behemoth of an SUV or an extremely discourteous and self-centered driver) I will do whatever I can do so that I no longer need to be within eyesight of their glaring ignorance.
Am I the only one with this sort of reaction? I am getting very worried about the level of organization and even power that the American Taliban has in politics and commerce.
Procter & Gamble, Microsoft, and various other corporations that in the past have championed for the full equality of all people are being bullied into pulling support, reversing on positions, and canceling advertising on anything that remotely offends the American Taliban. When will this stop? When will Americans stand up and say enough of this already. This country was founded on the belief that I don’t have to follow your religious beliefs.
I have my own beliefs. I don’t share them with others unless they ask first. Live and let live has always worked well for me, I wish the American Christian Taliban would be able to give that concept a try.
Cause unless this madness stops, I’m gonna start ramming people with bumper stickers I fnd offensive. You have been warned.