People waiting for me to leave a closet that I never was in or Tell me why are you not Fucking...

*The following is a satirical view of things that have been said to me, a collection if you will. Names and identities have been removed to protect the identities of individuals as well-meaning as some are, really have to fucking business in what they are asking. Enjoy and if you see yourself here.....yea.....can you stop that shit. Just an idea*


Hmmm.....how to start this one. This one is going to be fun, but I realize you only have one introduction and as many ways as I can start this I can not help to think I have to choose one.

So here we go.

*coughs*

People are really interested in me fucking. They really want to know who I am fucking. I mean, they want to know details. They want to meet people who I have fucked. They want to know outside of graphic details for some, or at least I think they don't want to pry that much, on who I'm fucking. I mean, people fuck and they fuck at a suitable frequency that they want to know you are fucking. I mean, if I was fucking TOO MUCH or what I like to call My Twenties,  then that would be too much fucking. I mean, seriously....why so much fucking. Can you just hit the showers? Can you not fuck too much. I mean, if you are fucking too much then there is an issue, no. Too much fucking is bad as not fucking at all and there should be a reasonable frequency of fucking that will keep you under the radar and just no the talk of the moment.

So no, I'm not fucking at the moment. In fact, this will be my tenth year not fucking. I KNOW! How time flies while not fucking at the moment. I have been celibate, a fancy term for not fucking, for a decade now. And I know its confusing others that I'm not fucking and they must understand why I am not fucking.

Is it because no one will fuck you. No, I have had, have, will have plenty of offers.

Is it because you did something REALLY KINKY that prevents people from wanting to fuck you. No, contrary to popular belief, Im really vanilla, but I do like to please others. A lot, so usually with plenty of consent given and a long talk, Im usually, key word here, willing to give into the desires and needs of others.

Is it because those slutty womens will not fuck you and they embargoed you getting fucked so now you am the mads and have to teach these feminist womans to fuck you or they will all pay! See how stupid it sounds and no, not even close.

Is it because you are secretly hiding an affair or fucking on the sly and don't want people to know cause SCANDAL! No, and you should watch less tv. I've had moments where someone did offer and are in a relationship and I said no. Even a few in open relationships and I still said no. It has alot to do with my....

Is it because you are part of a secret fuck society....NO and stop. Jesus, I mean seriously, stop watching tv!

Then what can it be? Why are you not the fucking. Unless......OH!

I will support you. I believe in your gender choice and or life partner gay thing. Huh...

You know its ok to be the faggo....um...gay, right. Its ok and I will support you. Wait where are you going with this.

I know some cute guys who will fuck you. You like twinks. Bears. Daddies, like you. What do you like? As long as we know you like dick we can get you plenty of dick. No. No, thank you.

But I mean, if you are not fucking women, you must like men...or men who are the womens...or women who are men who are women or that thing I saw on FOX that......STOP! Seriously, stop and listen to me. I want you to listen to me once a fucking again to why Im not fucking!

Then you are gay. No.

But you support the LGBT and many more. Yes.

But you are not the gays. Come on, you really care about the gays too much. I also care about the homeless, runaway teens, the environment, bees, and just not being a piece of shit to others, but it doesn't mean I am any one of those in the community. I have gay friends. Trans friends. Asexual friends. I have Bi friends I care about many people, but I don't have to be one of them to care about them.

And you want to fuck them..No, are you not listening to me.

AH, you are an ashamed homo! No.

YOU ARE! *sighs* No. My first kiss was with a boy. I was 6. I didn't think too much of it. My first kiss with a girl was when I was 15ish. That was awesome to me and I knew I wanted more of that. I knew at an early age I was straight, but it didn't matter to me cause I was busy being a kid and figured if it did come up then I'll be ok with it and such. In fact, you can say I was a late bloomer.

So...wait...Im confused. Are you not gay. Never was, am, and as far as I can tell, not going to be.

So.....wait...never ...... do you find others attractive... No, I found men attractive as much as I found Transwomen attractive. Attraction is natural, but it doesn't mean desire. Im sexually attracted to a certain type of woman and oddly enough my taste have branched through the years, but that doesn't stop me from noticing a man is attractive as much as a woman is. I can pass by and look at something I would not eat at a buffet, but have no desire to eat it. It can be nicely prepared and even a thing of beauty, but it doesn't mean I want it on my plate or want it taken away from me and others because I might want it alot. I like what I like and what I don't I don't. Doesn't stop me from saying what is attractive or not.

Wait...Im confused...did you just say you are gay. Im not gay. Just going to have to believe me. And if I was Id still be celibate because my celibacy has nothing to do with what I find sexually attractive.

Ok, then why are you not fucking, Why...

And it took how fucking long to get here.....shit, man.

In truth, a decade ago my social life was....chaotic. It was abusive and unhealthy. It was really bad and I knew I need to do something about it. The easiest thing was to stop having sex and to remove it from the equation. It did make my life easier and I realize I had a problem. I assumed all relationships were as bad as mine were. In fact, I realized through some of you that your relationships were healthy and I knew mine were not and was not normal. So I stopped. I had a long series of abusive relationships and I didn't want to be abused or even become abusive. I didn't have boundaries and it caused me hell.

In the past decade, I have worked through a lot and even Crazy Doc understand why I am celibate and if there is anyone who wants me to start fucking, it would be her, but oddly enough for the right reason. In fact, she's not fixated on me not fucking. Shes fixated on my lack of trust with others and that I can not place myself in a vulnerable position with anyone even if I was in dire need of help. I don't see myself as a person. I don't see myself as a valued person. I don't see myself with needs as a person and if I do not work through that I will only return to the harmful effects that caused me to be celibate.

I fear any form of intimacy because intimacy was used against me.  I can not repeat this enough. I'll even make it simple my love was used against me to hurt me and others around me and Im unweary in doing that ever again. Because someone caused that cycle I have been used by others. I have been mistreated and even led to believe that this is what love is. It's something nice with a side of abuse and emotional scarring.

That's why I went celibate. I didn't want to continue that cycle and I wanted some control over my life and the easiest thing to do was to shut myself down as a sexual being and just eliminate that out of my life in order to get things on tracks. Its why my therapy is now poking this bear. I've worked and healed so much that now I have to face why I am celibate and attempt to believe that there are women, yes I am attracted to women, who are not abusive or manipulative. That I CAN have what you all have, a healthy relationship void of abuse.

So....can you understand why Im not fucking...

......Id fuck you....you know, if I didn't think you were gay. Unless if its a threesome, then I think I can get down with that....that would be hot...

*raises hands in the air and walks away*

When survivors maul the victims

I was vagabonding it on Saturday when NPR had a talk about suicide on the view of the survivors. I couldn't help getting a bit angry as I listen to an analogy given by a writer whose father took his life very young at her age and who resented his ....cough....choice....in not existing anymore. Even her analogy was a bit hostile in my case. Being from either Minnesota or some other frozen hellhole, she compared depression to being lost in the snow storm while suicide just the individual becoming tired of not being able to see clearly and decide to lay down in the snow to sleep their life away. Often times she remarked that they were just feet away from home or shelter or whatever example of safety they wanted to frame it and.....here it fucking comes.....if they ONLY had just A LITTLE MORE FAITH and given A LITTLE MORE EFFORT none of this would have happened.

This still pisses me off. I initially yelled back at the Well-Meaning White People that just fucking frustrate me each and everytime they fucking miss the bigger point, screaming out something in the range of Fucking daft bitch, they gave all their faith and all their effort and they still died, in heartbreak and horrific disappointment that they could not be saved! Hell, no one came out for them. No one lit torches. No one made any fucking attempt to save them if I use your fucking analogy. And yes, even though the end result of suicide is that the loved ones and those closest to the victim, Im going to use the word victim here, have no idea and its almost a betrayal to THEM that they took their own life and it's their fault that they did it, everything we honestly know from suicide is based on those who remain and not of those who take their lives simply because the dead tell no tales and what clues they leave behind are usually hidden to protect the privacy of the family.

That's some one-sided bullshit. I know because I was going to take my life. And I was trying to find a solution to my issues outside of taking my own life. And if it wasn't for a mentor taking his first I would have not reached my radicle assumption that I will always leave those who have no idea or are blatantly oblivious to reach conclusions without them know. And often time a note is not enough to express what happened and why this was the only viable method at conflict resolution.

It's almost an insult to many who have taken their lives and I know being someone who stood on both sides of the fence. I understand that I stand here no screaming at the radio at all the well-meaning insult of well deserving victims who had to continue and who are tainted with the view of if they only know how their selfish choice cost everyone one around them. 

With immense respect, fuck all of you and I hope there is a special place in your personal hell where your lost one gets to confront you and tell you of their pain and anguish for all eternity.

Just a week ago it hit me. The perfect analogy for suicide. It encompassed everything I faced and felt and how close I was to take my own life. People with depression or some other mental illness are in a high rise on fire and at first, there is no sign and no symptom. And more and more as the fire builds and gets worse the occupants are forced to go higher and higher, not because it's logical or the best thing to do, but because the fires are so immense that the pain of burning forces them to move away and up is the only way to go. All the while they hope and wish someone helps them somehow while not believing so. I mean, who can not see their building on fire. Maybe they see and it's not a big deal. Maybe everyone building is on fire and Im the only one who can not control the flames. Why are my sprinklers not working? Why am I going through this? What have I done for this to happen?  Why am I not getting help and why is no one coming for me. Am do I deserve this. I can get out, I'll just keep at it. And you logic your way through it all until you reach the top and there is no other place to go and you start contemplating the hard questions. Should I let the fires take me or should I jump? How painful is it going to be to not jump? Why didn't I run through the fire then when now there is no chance of getting help. What will I do?

This is why people make plans and continue with their lives until somehow they just die. I was supposed to have brunch with them the next day. I was going on a trip with them. I just booked time off for our visit or was just at their birthday. Why would they do this?

In the end, they may have jumped. The fire forced them to jump out of reaction. They were consumed by what causes them so much pain and they pass. These are the questions they ask but not how come we didn't see their building on fire. And in honesty its because its a shame to show your building on fire. Mental health is still taboo. No one wants to come out and say I distrust my senses and I need help because I can not think straight enough to not cause myself immense pain. I can not hide it any longer or worse.....everyone ignored me until I took my life. And in the end, they reaped the sympathy and help that someone else so direly needed.

Suicide is the inferno consuming your building and forcing you out of it, either by horrific reasoning or by instinct to not be consumed by it.

There.

Not poor me. More poor them. Awwww.....they would never know how great life is and they missed out....because they made a choice...Seriously, how fucking shitty are you. This has nothing to do with you. They took their life and out of your own need to protect yourself you place the blame on the dead. You feel better, but it doesn't prevent those who die. And it doesn't prevent others from dying.

Seriously, fuck you. Im sure your father would have loved not suffering and not taking his life. Duh. Everyone would have. I know I would have. And if it wasn't for someone else who took their own life before me, I would have not understood that those of us who suffer in silence will only make ourselves the villain of our own tragedy. Yodon'tnt win. You just stop feeling the pain. And much like Milton's Satan, you're already doing to be made the villain then why not end it all in style and go out screaming.

I did.

I said to my best friend, Im not doing well and I wanted to take my life if not for X doing so before me.

Regardless if he believed me or not, I said it. And then on I kept saying it. And I screamed it. And I yelled at anyone else who would listen that I am not well and I jump rather having it consume me.

And then, someone heard me. I got help. Those around me didn't or couldn't help because they and I don't know how to. Or how to deal with it. Our generation who sees condoms are normal and not as a way to not die, still has much to learn on what will keep us from not dying. Then it will be normal.

And yes, that path to normalcy will cost us more lives. That's the horror, much like condoms needed to be normal.

I don't know how to end this. I didn't even think I was going to write about this.

So...yea.....end.

Its not that I dont know as much as I dont have anything to give.

My back is throbbing a bit.

Durning the past month or so, I helped two friends move homes and that has most definitely has tweaked my lumbar a bit. It's not in full pain, but it's in a place where I know that if I don't take some time to heal it, I will make it worse so, Im in a recliner when I should be going to sleep for work and Im here writing again after so many months.

But as you already know, I cant just get to my point. I have to ease it in and attempt to write again. I know its time when I start to write in my head full well knowing that I may just lose what I wanted to say, but may just hope to say it the best way.

It's always a challenge.

Im at the point where I am now blatantly opposing my Crazy Doc.

She's a worthy opponent and has spent more than a year at understanding how I think and how I function in my odd logic that never seems to make sense outside of those who spend immense time with me and myself. Im not too worried that I will out think her or that I will fight her on every point, but I have at this point have called her out and asked to check her math.

There are very few things I will take on faith and in fact, I don't have faith in anything other than human beings and for that the point. With her help, I am not suicidal. I am able to create boundaries that I never had before. I am able to disengage in anything that is self-destructive and harmful to myself and even others. My drinking has become an almost nonexistent outside of finishing a can that I used earlier in cooking. She has helped bring me peace and allowed me to forgive others and to care for them without ripping myself asunder. So, please understand I trust her, I believe her to a point, as you will see soon, and respect her word, especially when she stops me from over analyzing everything. If anything she has proven to me to be the closest person in my life and actually have no horse if I live, die, harm myself or become healed.

I don't say this because she doesn't care or that she does not want me to do better, but it's her motive that forces me almost to trust her without challenge. She is not doing this because she needs me to or that I affect her life in one way or another. She is as neutral as an individual as possible. What she says is not loaded or sharpened. She state everything as close to meaning as possible and without any hidden meaning as I can figure. It's this reason why I can say that she has nothing invested in me doing better or worse. No pressure. Fail is needed. Succeed when able. My actions have no connection to her outcome.

Very freeing.

So why am I having difficulty now...

Im having difficulty now because I am in some respect functional and whole. I do have my rough moments, but I am functional. I am able to exist and even relate to most of you. As far as I know, there are no longer many windmills to challenge. In fact, there is only one as far as I can see. And with that, she is trying to unpack my anger. She is trying to unpack my reluctance. My sense of inferiorness towards everyone. My belief that I am just trying to ghost through rather than have anyone offer their belief on what I am worth. She wants me to be happy. I say I am as happy as I can get, which is for the amount of work I put in immense. She wants me to rely on others, a task that I would rather chew and swallow broken glass than an attempt. She wants me to try and reach out to others even if I feel deep in my bones that I am burdening them with myself and is best just not calling attention to myself.

I would rather not speak or cause attention in my general direction if only to prevent me being chased out of town with torches and mobs. And most of you close to me can even understand that I out of everyone who you know, have more than right....more of an authority on how my survival is to seem as small as possible than to get noticed and even have hell itself come for me. Even now I know that my back tightens and aches, I would tolerate it until I cannot endure it. Then I will only adjust my mind and call it fine.

Crazy Doc wants me to believe that I am forcing people away. I told her I know I am. She wants me to stop and allow them to get close. I said no. I can not, if only their own safety and sense of worth, they should not complicate their lives with mine. She wants to know who and when someone made me feel less than myself. I give her a list and with proof of when, how and why. She tells me that there are people who want to enrich my life. And I tell her, I believe her and keep my distance for their good. She wants me to know that there are those who want to make me an important part of their life, that they are trying to get me involved with their existence and nothing would make them happier than to have me there.

I tell her, I know. They are difficult to remove and yet I keep them at bay with even attempts to have them understand that I am not good for them.  She knows my past. What I keep to myself. What I live with. What I exist with. What I accept with no solution as I struggle to endure. And yet, she has an insane idea that this would not limit others to my or my woes. That they would not go away. I tell her that plenty have already and that's with my attempts to keep them near. Now I accept that I am at most a fetish and once people know enough, they will remove themselves in time. And if lucky without me noticing.

Others love me. I know. Others want me in their life. I say, only to a point unless I bring hell towards them. She states that I deserve to be loved. I state that I can not confirm nor deny, but I know that it doesn't work out if I have any say. That its best to be a legendary friend and companion instead of having another person recoil and move on after realizing my life is not so easy to place in their lives as so imagined.

I carry a heavy burden. I carry the burden of others. I carry the hope of many and I know that its too heavy for most to wrap their heads around. I will always be a flash in the pan. An interest. A story to tell and maybe a photo to brag. I am not human even if I wanted to be. I am a hybrid of mule, stone, and despair attempting to drag on towards another day. Never of my choice.

No one would choose this, even for those who love those closest to them.

I will die alone, if lucky. I will have those who will miss me and even tell a story of mine or two. I will have those who will even miss me and realize when time has past and things are complete that I have done much, not because I took it as my duty or chose it in some romantic gesture towards Greater Romantics, but as simply needing to be done. That takes a heavy toll that so many years ago, most would not want to endure. Very few love the infirmed or those with limited time. Most will also shun me in such a way.

I know people are not evil or even cruel or difficult. I know I ran into the worst at a bad time, but yes...I walk with a taint that no matter how many magnificent and fantastic benefits I bring along, I am not one to be chosen outside of a happy distant. One does not go into the pound who the lame or the weak unless they suffered their own afflictions.

So......yea...I can not believe in fairy tales or a happy moral when my life has been without such lighthearted and careless joy that even if I wanted to I would never be able to comply as much as those in wheelchairs can simply get up and run.

I will go. I will disagree and I will allow myself to listen to such Amazing tales of redemption and love. I just won't wish upon any star.

Best as I can do.