#anyway. day of chores continues (seeing my family for the first time since pandemic later. augh)

[nerice]

people who have been helpful in my wrist recovery journey: physio guys, the person who built the rsi help website, the jobcenter lady just now, who, when i told her i can't fathom going back to work currently, was vry understanding and gave me a lot of kind words and advice bc she has rheuma and knows how much bad hands suck

people who haven't been helpful: doctors.

[feduprona]

A World Where Roses Bloom

 What happens when you, a person who no longer look forward to live  beyond 40 years old meets another person who lived her life to the fullest and now ready to settle ?

It all started  six years ago, when I had so much anguish about my life then--I was always sick,a  quarter will not end  without me going to ER and having these various types of illness. I was also having a hard time working because I had not immediate manager and I had a confusing  “romantic issue” at the office which ended horribly, I felt so overwhelmed that  I just wanted to die.

I tried to seek professional medical help so I can get by, but still, I couldnt manage my life, I had no productive output,bosses resented me  and I turned to alcohol to drown my  emptiness. I met a few friends who were able to navigate me to sanity again,

But still,

Last December, my bestfriend at work invited me to their house and we spent the whole day eating,drinking and laughing, a few hours later he dies.

It was one of the darkest days of my life. There was no second that  I did not shed a tear for his demise,It was so painful that my thoughts about ending my life became stronger,I realized that I really dont want to live and grow older anymore.I had two dear friends who held me so tight that I got so embarrassed that i was already letting go.

I just dont look forward getting old anymore.I dont have anything to look forward  and live for, I felt that I dont have any reason anymore to try  living.I always wake  up with heavy thoughts and my nights were even longer.So I was already committed to my plans that I will  die before I reach 40 years old. 

Here comes pandemic and it maybe unfair to others, but this year brought so much peace in my life ---i was forced to relocate near  office so I can continue working but I was able to save a lot of energy,money and time as the traffic is no longer a major upsetting factor on daily basis.My travel, unpredictable field work and exposure to pollution became  old news.They are now things of my pressurized past .Living alone made me learn a lot about household chores, revived my childhood hobbies and made me a bit relaxed. Fear of getting infected with COVID19 was actually not a priority.I was able to live a better normal. It also helped that  I was surrounded by  openly gay workmates who eventually became my friends--I became more comfortable getting out from my restraints.I became more confident of my sexuality.

And so one day I needed a doctor again.Thats when I met HER.

For the first time in  8 years , I had the energy and courage to express my attraction to a woman . I asked her out and everything fell perfectly into beautiful places. I was already feeling fine with my life in time of quarantine but I felt excited for the first time again in years.It could be anything or nothing, but I was happy waking up knowing that there is someone who also wanted be with me ,eat with me,laugh with me while doing serious tasks like reviewing for her upcoming medical board and just sit together talking about anything under the sun.

I work up late nights still singing silly lovesongs;

I get up every fucking morning ,inspired to dance and run;

I walked under the sun and through the rain  feeling just...happy.

Am I beginning to want to live again? Or I was just lost in the moment? 

Or maybe ,I was  secretly hoping to feel this way again?

There were also instances that she asked me if I had any plans for us or if I want to lead  whatever we had for something more I had a ready answer. I could not commit anything more for now. I am not even sure if this is a good time to get into something more serious. I had so many excuses that I knew she knew that I wasnt there for any clear purpose.

And I did not feel guilty at all. Maybe because I knew it was the truth and I knew that i could not give more.

So we moved on and continued to be just happy  to be with each other--sans clarity. We went on  dating and just enjoyed each other’s company. She was so easy to like and maybe, love, she was not complicated ,matured and never demanded anything from me.

Or so I thought?

“I am getting married.”

She told me that at 18 years old, her parents gave her the freedom ticket to do whatever she wanted except use illegal drugs, get married or get  pregnant.And she did live her life to the fullest of her knowledge and whims. She travelled the world, dated a lot and just did everything that she thought that made  her happy and fulfilled while taking up Medicine.

Now that shes going to take the last medical board that will allow her to practice her chosen subspecialty and will eventually setup her own clinic, this also indicatesthat her freedom ticket will expire  anytime soon,Her parents believed that  12 years was already enough to make her enjoy her youth.Now its time to takeover the family  hospital and marry the man they thought was perfect for her to build a family and to run the business.

And she’s okay with it.She believed that she already had  the life she always wanted and maybe it's just right to settle now.

Then it dawned to me that she asked me if  I had plans because she had to see how she can manage expectations without getting too invested in our whirlwind relationship--for whatever it is called.

I had a few hours of confusion if I am going to get hurt or keep my fascination that arranged marriage still exists in this millennial generation--and someone like her accepted it. Nevertheless, I can say we both made a choice for our future or my lack of vision thereof. 

I was not heartbroken since I never wanted to commit anything as I stopped planning and making life goals anymore. I was also afraid that it might be unfair for someone like her at  the prime of her career to be with me who  lived moment by moment.

It was good as it could get anyway. And I was kind of glad that it will end anytime soon without too much attachments. It was not yet hard to let go.

Perhaps,amidst pandemic and all this uncertainty, I had a few months  living in  the world where roses blooms.

What happens when you, a person who no longer look forward to live  beyond 40 years old meets another person who lived her life to the fullest and now ready to settle ?

Not much. Everything has been planned to end anyway.

[aserioushouseonseriousearth]

Life 1

I didn’t think it would be fun, or easy, but I came out to two friends yesterday as bisexual and now I’m telling the whole world. 

Since I was about fourteen, I thought I was bisexual. It wasn’t a big deal at the time, so I tried not to think about it or ever think of a time where I would be able to tell anyone. I knew my family might be accepting, but I also knew a few of them would not be. As sad as it makes me, I recognize that my relationship with my family might come at the expense of my happiness. My family means absolutely everything to me and the thought of doing anything to jeopardize my relationships was enough motivation to try and hide a part of myself. 

For a while, I was okay. I figured it would always just be something people suspected about me, nothing I would ever confirm. I knew what part I had to play and the expectations I needed to conform to if I didn’t want to deal with this issue. Again, it came at the expense of my happiness. I would like nothing more than to be completely authentic and completely me. I thought that I would be able to have everything, but this situation quickly taught me I was wrong. I can’t have it all, as badly as I’d like. 

Anyways. I went to visit my sister in Seattle at the start of 2019. It was such a change of environment from Florida in every single way. The people were different, the weather was different, everything was different. Despite everything I love about Florida, Seattle is different and I like the different. This change of environment got me thinking about how happy I could be in Seattle, a place so removed from friends and family at home, where I could try being myself with as much privacy as needed. If anyone would understand, my sister in Seattle would. 

A year later, when we were sent home from school because of the pandemic, I had all summer to spend time surfing and doing what I loved. Having gotten my license a year prior, I also decided to try and do things that I never thought I’d have the opportunity to do. One of these things included a relationship, for the first time with someone of the same sex. It was certainly different compared to all other romantic experiences I have had before. It only helped to tell me what I already knew about myself, however. I was bisexual. 

We still talk occasionally, but it’s nothing meaningful. After things ended on good terms, I had a lot to think about. This was in October of 2020. I was starting college classes in addition to my high school classes. On top of two jobs, I was absolutely floored. Trying to manage friendships and visiting family in tandem made it almost impossible for me to do anything but survive on a day to day basis. 

Work was difficult. I don’t have the easiest time dealing with people in a social setting and the amount of time work took up was hard to manage. School, so much of it, was hard to manage. Combined with the rest of my life, everything was just so hard to manage. Even simple things, like remembering which day I had to clean the kitchen or cleaning my car became these incredible chores which had to be stressed about and planned days in advance to no avail. Things were getting overwhelming. This was in part due to the fact that I had not had a single day off since August. I had either classes or work, or both, every day of the week. 

The full story is too much to explain here, but I plan on talking about everything in these blog posts. However, more will come that will help flesh out this story, but for now its just worth noting I was having issues managing everything because I was so overwhelmed and I began feeling very depressed one night. 

On this particular night, I was at work. I was hosting for a restaurant. Because it was a Tuesday night, a majority of my time at work consisted of me standing behind a desk with nothing to do. I had my phone, but I wasn’t interested in looking at it. I had a book, but I wasn’t interested in reading. Instead, I decided to make a list of everything that was making me sad and overwhelmed in an effort to fix it. 

I have had a few depressive episodes before and this one was not as bad as others, but thinking about it is hard. It’s not easy to explain, but I want to use this blog as a way to really be myself and talk about things that interest me, and my life, like a confessor. So I’m going to try and be as honest and descriptive about my life and what I feel. What I felt that night was this dark, tight feeling in my chest. I felt hollow. Even acknowledging how I felt in my mind would make me feel like sitting in a corner, alone, holding myself. It was difficult not to cry. 

Early in the night, a woman had came in. We’ll call her F1. Anyways, F1 used to work in the same position with me at the restaurant. Her husband, M1, still worked with me but in a separate position. He was a bartender at the restaurant and she often came to see him. We were friends so I said hello. I didn’t want to say anything but I was just desperate for someone to see me, I felt like I was drowning and no one cared or noticed. 

I had access to cameras in the restaurant. When I saw F1 was getting up to leave, I decided I would intercept her and ask her to talk. I walked out the front door and leaned against the railing of the steps that led to the street. F1 always took the patio steps down to the street from the upstairs bar, meaning she would have to pass me to get down to the street. I waited and a crowd of customers left. Then she came down, we smiled, and I said goodbye. I felt like screaming and crying. 

I went back inside, back to my list, and just tried not to feel anything. I didn’t want to feel the way I did and yet every thought always turned into something else, something that made me feel like crying. I surprised myself by how many things made me feel like crying. I figured after work, I would go home and sleep. 

About an hour before we closed, the door opened and F1 was back. We said hello again, but this time she didn’t continue walking past me. She came up to me and told me that she had felt something was off so she had come back to make sure I was okay. This was at the very start of April, just so the timeline is clear. 

My reaction was weird. For a while, I had been fake laughing at everything. I didn’t care to talk to anyone anymore for a while at work, so I had perfected an excellent fake laugh when my social anxiety prohibited me from thinking of anything to say. I didn’t have a response to F1 when she came up to me and told me that. I just remember thinking that I wanted someone to notice I wasn’t okay and I wanted someone to talk to. I panicked. I didn’t want it to be about me. I began laughing and I backed up to the wall, looking at her. This laugh was different, I could hear my nervousness and how shaky it was. Leaning against the wall, laughing, I said I was fine. She asked again, I laughed and said I was fine. 

I’m not sure what happened next to be honest, but she eventually coaxed me to tell her things were not okay and that I did want to talk about it and I had a list. I was secretly so thankful and relieved that she hadn’t been deterred and I had someone to talk to. We sat on the bench outside the door before I realized I still was working. I asked her if we could talk after my shift, in less than an hour, and she said yes and went upstairs to talk to her husband. 

After my shift, I grabbed my bag and my drink. I had gotten a shirley temple to drink. I went to the side of the bar where she was hanging out, talking with her husband and another friend, and told her I was ready. She instantly told me okay, said goodbye to her friends, and we grabbed a table at the back of the restaurant. The back of the restaurant was completely empty, so it was easy to talk. As we were about to start, her husband came up and kissed her and said goodbye, waved at me and told me ‘Love you buddy!’ before leaving. It was really sweet. 

F1 and I discussed my list and we eventually made it through everything. It was a few hours of conversation and I am so thankful to her for being there and sticking it out just to help me. She helped me figure out why I was overwhelmed and how best to fix it. I was at the end of my rope, but I only had a few weeks left of school. I could take a break from work if I wanted. It would be okay, I was fine. And I was. 

For a few days after, I was incredibly giddy. I had gone from a deep low to a very high high. Instead of crashing, I managed to balance it out. I was okay. I was fine. I had everything under control. Everything was under control. I had gotten caught up in everything and a chance to separate myself, relax, and talk it all through had given me exactly what I needed; control. I realized that I was going up. I turned 18 at the end of May. I had two months to go before I was a legal adult and I needed to stay in control. I finished school with all A’s, I began making time for hobbies and reading in particular, and saving my money. I try to read a bit every day and so far I have been succeeding. 

It was around that time I was free enough to recognize other issues. Family trauma and my own sexuality, two issues I haven’t been able to deal with. At the time, the only person in the world who knew I was bisexual was M2, the guy I had seen at the end of the summer in 2020. I ended up drinking too much one night and I told two of my friends that night. F2 did not respond. That really hurt, one of my closest friends. I had known her for over four years. This was around the 6th of April as well. The second friend was very supportive at first, but eventually we had a falling out related to my coming out to her. I’ll call her F3. The prologue to me officially starting on this journey was off to a rocky start. An ex-boyfriend who I didn’t really talk to, a friend who had ignored me, and a friend who had hurt me because of this. 

Yet, it was an issue I needed to deal with. The word issue has a negative connotation, and I did view it negatively. It was something I didn’t want to deal with. And yet, about two months later, I texted F1 and asked her to meet me at a coffee shop downtown to talk. Specifically, I told her I was having a personal issue and needed to talk to someone because I trusted her. I picked F1 because I knew she had a few family issues as well as I did. Separate ones, of course. Secondly, she was a friend I could trust to tell as I knew she wouldn’t react badly. Finally, she wasn’t a close friend. I’ve only known her since the Fall of 2020 and I trusted her enough to tell her. I guess I will say she was a close friend, one I could trust, but not close enough where I had to be incredibly drunk to tell. It’s backwards, isn’t it? There’s this part of myself and the hardest people to tell are my closest friends and family. F2 ended up texting me at the end of May to wish me a happy birthday, but ignored the messages I had sent before and after. 

Anyways, this was the story leading up to my meeting downtown in the city where I live with F1 where I came out. I think I’ll write about that either today or tomorrow, but I wanted to write this first. My prologue story. Life 1.  In future posts, I’ll probably talk about things I’m interested and other parts of my life, but this is the start of my coming out journey and this is everything leading up to the start of this particular path. 

I am still me, I just want to be the whole me. I am trying my best to be as authentic as possible. 

-A Serious House