15 years...and life beyond
October 19th has been an important date for the last 15 years. It's the day I came out of the closet.
I'll spare you the musings on what it all has meant. That's an epic posting for another time which I will never write, I'm sure. Probably because I don't really have time for it, lest I be accused of dwelling on the bad rather than the good.
So with just minutes left in my 15th anniversary of being out, I can sum up the day in a few words:
Tragic.
Angry.
Sad.
Heartbreaking.
Soul-searching.
Not quite the day I'd expected. And I know that certain people on here -- and those who may end up reading this entry (and probably others) via Facebook -- will be upset or disappointed or even angry at me for not having a happy anniversary. I know I hadn't planned to have it take such a turn.
I'm not going to make any promises to anyone, least of all myself, about these next 15 years. Hell, I don't want to even speculate about where I'll be mentally a year from now.
Year 5, that event that changed me happened (for those just tuning in, there was some event I cannot clearly remember caused me to stop socializing/going out/etc....and no, even now I still can't remember just what it was; even my journals at that time don't clarify it).
Year 10 was my last year in KC, preparing for my decision as to whether I was going to move to Tucson or strike out elsewhere (probably back to Lawrence). I didn't go out much at all, probably because I disliked going alone to the bars and still don't (which ties into this anniversary).
And this milestone: I went out to Woody's in the company of someone I probably should not have. And the ONLY reason I did was because of all my friends/acquaintances, he was available. The others weren't. And since I've essentially given up drinking, the two scotches I had went straight to my head and the self-editor went off. (Fortunately, the dam didn't break until we got to the car, at which point he drove...makes sense, no?)
I've already heard from one person: "If it was a matter of celebrating with a drink, why didn't you go to just any old bar?" Because as stupid as it sounds, having the drink in a gay bar -- surrounded by my brethren, as it were -- was symbolic; I hadn't completely severed every tie to being part of some community, even though I have tremendous issues with the gay community in Tucson.
Anyway. Now it's after midnight. The date has passed. This entry doesn't do much to clarify the day or what it means. Indeed, it'll only probably make complete sense to me. But hey, it's something.
Have a good week....
I'll spare you the musings on what it all has meant. That's an epic posting for another time which I will never write, I'm sure. Probably because I don't really have time for it, lest I be accused of dwelling on the bad rather than the good.
So with just minutes left in my 15th anniversary of being out, I can sum up the day in a few words:
Tragic.
Angry.
Sad.
Heartbreaking.
Soul-searching.
Not quite the day I'd expected. And I know that certain people on here -- and those who may end up reading this entry (and probably others) via Facebook -- will be upset or disappointed or even angry at me for not having a happy anniversary. I know I hadn't planned to have it take such a turn.
I'm not going to make any promises to anyone, least of all myself, about these next 15 years. Hell, I don't want to even speculate about where I'll be mentally a year from now.
Year 5, that event that changed me happened (for those just tuning in, there was some event I cannot clearly remember caused me to stop socializing/going out/etc....and no, even now I still can't remember just what it was; even my journals at that time don't clarify it).
Year 10 was my last year in KC, preparing for my decision as to whether I was going to move to Tucson or strike out elsewhere (probably back to Lawrence). I didn't go out much at all, probably because I disliked going alone to the bars and still don't (which ties into this anniversary).
And this milestone: I went out to Woody's in the company of someone I probably should not have. And the ONLY reason I did was because of all my friends/acquaintances, he was available. The others weren't. And since I've essentially given up drinking, the two scotches I had went straight to my head and the self-editor went off. (Fortunately, the dam didn't break until we got to the car, at which point he drove...makes sense, no?)
I've already heard from one person: "If it was a matter of celebrating with a drink, why didn't you go to just any old bar?" Because as stupid as it sounds, having the drink in a gay bar -- surrounded by my brethren, as it were -- was symbolic; I hadn't completely severed every tie to being part of some community, even though I have tremendous issues with the gay community in Tucson.
Anyway. Now it's after midnight. The date has passed. This entry doesn't do much to clarify the day or what it means. Indeed, it'll only probably make complete sense to me. But hey, it's something.
Have a good week....