For over twenty years, I’ve been on the run.
I came out of the closet into a maelstrom of gay identity and chaos, making choices along the way that were detrimental to my very existence. I went against my instincts time and time again because, at the end of it all, whatever came my way made me feel valid, made me feel like my life had purpose, that I was wanted and desired, on any level, among society. My roots in a family, full of rage and resentment, have left a wiring diagram in my brain that has, for years, needed to be reworked, realigned, rebuilt. It was too much for me then, but never got better as time passed. Trauma doesn’t know what Space and Time are.
I finally started therapy for this, far too long along this path of fog and darkness, because my age and stage of life was finally exhausted from carrying around that baggage. You can only make the same mistakes for so long, before something has to give.
The privilege of therapy, and access to mental health resources overall, is a thing I recognize. It is a human right that all should have access to. Nobody should have to bear the weight of the world on their own, using google and social media to both diagnose and treat the ways their mind works.
So, here’s to figuring things out so that Dad is a stronger, better, wiser man going forward. It’s far-past time to get right with the world around me so I can be better for you all.