clearing the air.

Most people that know me would say that my parents were to blame for my depression, I’d have to say that from what I’ve told them, that’d be correct, but I’d like to correct that information today.  90% of the people I talk to haven’t met my parents, so all they’ve got to go off is what I say. To them, my parents can barely stand to be around me. While this is true sometimes, most of what I say is ridiculously exaggerated.

My parents have never said they hated me, wished I wasn’t their son, nor completely kicked me out. I’m not going to say they’re the best parents, because they have their flaws, but they try. If anything, I’m a crappy son, and it’s not their fault I was born with all kinds of problems. Straight up: yes, I did want to die quite a bit while I was in high school. No, this is not because of my parents. It was because of the mental war that was discussed in my previous post, and one from a few weeks ago.

I don’t really recall much of my childhood, but the pieces of it I do are fun. Sometimes things get sticky because paths clash, but never as bad as I may make them out to be. I feel bad doing this, because my parents are labeled as assholes because I was too scared to admit the truth about my sexuality and nothing else made sense.

Yes, my mother is loud and irrational. No, my mother does not understand the concept of individuality. Yes, my mother thinks I should act like everyone else because it’s acceptable. No, my mother does not accept homosexuality. Yes, my mother really did tell me I could get out if that’s how I want to live. No, I do not hate my mother.

Yes, I do love my mother. It took me moving out to realize this. My mother and I are extremely similar. We’re both blunt, honest, bitchy people, and keeping us in close quarters with each other for long periods of time (like 19 years) has cataclysmic consequences. She’s a yeller; according to her, her entire family is. She’s hard of hearing and quite lazy (she calls my cellphone from the room adjacent to mine because she doesn’t want to get up to knock on my door). Or she just yells, which calls for me to yell back, which causes her to yell at me for raising my voice (???). 

There’s where the irrationality shines. She’s never wrong, so even if you tell her the sky is blue, you’re lying if she has it in her mind that it is the brightest shade of green it can get. My mother and I are freakishly close to have such a detrimental relationship, though. It goes back to the similarities between us. Neither of us like to sit behind the scenes, we like to be in the nitty gritty. Our strengths are also our biggest weaknesses. She and I hate to be proved wrong, and we hate admitting we were wrong. Neither of us likes to back down from a fight (especially her. If I’m over it, I’ll walk away; she’ll follow me).

But the unseen side of my mother is that of all of the positive things she does that never reach the ears of my peers. I realized this when I started talking to all my friends and realized just how easy I have it. I’ve never had to worry about gas money, I’ve never had to pay for anything regarding my phone or vehicle; my parents have always had it covered. I’m like, extremely spoiled looking back at it.

Do I deserve any of these things? It’d be mad conceited if I said yes, but I honestly don’t believe I do. I haven’t done anything spectacular to be given a car that I don’t have to pay anything on, or a phone I don’t pay for, or the tons of clothes they’ve bought me since birth. I really don’t deserve it.

It’s weird, though, I never really paid much attention to how much they do for me on a daily basis until I had my two-wrecks-in-one-day incident. I called my mom flipping out and shockingly enough, she wasn’t like, “Blake, what the hell?” Instead, I got an eerily comforting “shit happens” from her and my dad both.  

My dad.. where can I even start with him? I feel so bad all the time because I'm terrible at conveying emotions to my parents, so when I see them it's just a stoic "hi" and I don't know how else to say it. My dad's always been one of my biggest role models. Sure, he may not be a doctor, a cardiac surgeon, a billionaire, but he doesn't need to be. The man he is makes him all of these things. I've never told either of my parents how much I love and respect them, instead I just act like a douche because I don't like looking vulnerable. What a stupid excuse. My dad busts his butt to provide for my family because my mother's on disability and I used to eat everything within a 50-foot radius. My dad rarely yells; if he does, it's because I deserve it. I don't talk down about my dad, I have no reason to. He tries so hard to connect with me, but I just give him the cold shoulder and nod in agreement instead of engaging in an actual conversation with him. I may not show it, but I feel bad every time this happens.

If my parents somehow manage to make it t this site, do know that I love & highly respect both of you, though my actions and words may not show it. 

The Black Sheep: My life story (shortened) - Things DO get better.

Hmm.. Where do I begin? 

What's a black sheep, perhaps? 

–noun

2.

a person who causes shame or embarrassment because of deviation from the accepted standards of his or her group.

Me in a nutshell, pretty much. There are many, many ways that I'm a black sheep.

#1 - My family. My family doesn't accept homosexuality and my mother made this blatantly clear when I tried to tell her. The only thing my mother and I have in common is we're both potty-mouthed people, and back in her day she was a partier. My mom and I get a long really well because she doesn't harp on me for being myself, but she's also very hostile at times, and she all the time is saying, "Blake, don't do that. Gay people do that," which makes it pretty much impossible to say anything to her about it. My dad and I don't have much in common. He loves to sail, I'm slightly terrified of open water. He did fun stuff as a kid, I sat inside, and he works in granite countertops, something that is far from fascinating to me, but I appreciate him a lot more than he knows. My sister, Brooke, and I couldn't be any more different. We don't look alike; she's a twig and I'm the whole tree, she's short, I'm kind of tall. Brooke is extremely conservative, and I'm definitely not. I'm loud and outspoken and downright blunt sometimes, and she's really quiet. I haven't always been this outgoing, and I understand where she's coming from, but she's all the time telling me to stop doing things that will embarrass her. 

#2 - The South. I'm nothing like these people, the ones with their trucks on rims taller than me, the ones with plaques of deer heads and anything else they could get taxidermied. I try my hardest not to blend in with the "typical southern good ole' boy". I try and keep my accent under wraps and I will never wear cowboy boots or a cowboy hat seriously. When my parents thought I was old enough to buy my own clothes (or rather go with my sister so she could pick out stuff because "I had no sense of style"), I tried to buy graphic t-shirts. I would bring them home and my mother would be like, "Blake what the hell is this? That's trashy." And I would have to take it back. The only thing that was acceptable for her were polos and plaid shorts. I loathe polos, but that's all I owned for the longest time. I had a few pairs of shorts and a plethora of polos and I just mix and matched and looked like everyone else on the street. Ew. I finally broke out of that this year when I began making my own money and buying my own clothing, I could fulfill my love for bright colors and weird patterns. 

So, now that we've got that out of the way, let's get on with the life story, shall we? Fun times ahead. 

It started when I was a baby, not like I remember it, but it did. As far back as I can remember, I always played with my sister and her friends because I never had any guy friends in my neighborhood. I was friends with Tyler and Caleb, but then Caleb moved, and one day Tyler asked if I wanted some Skoal, I didn't know what it was but it gross, and I told my mom what he offered me and then we never really played with each other anymore. When Jessica and Eric moved in next door, I remembered Jessica from outside the kindergarten building at Chickasaw Elementary and ran over to say "Hi!" Her brother was two years older than her, making him one year older than me, so the four of us, including Brooke, became good friends & did everything together. When Brittni moved in down the street, her little brother Preston and I became friends, but he was a lot younger than me so I got annoyed with him quite easily. I remember I was never really interested in playing things they wanted to play, but always wanted in on what Brooke and Jessica were planning. 

Somewhere along the lines of my childhood, Brooke, me, and my mother were in Toys 'R' Us and Brooke was picking out a Barbie. I guess I said something like "I want one, too!" because my mom bought me the counterpart to Brooke's. I also seem to remember having a Tommy doll that I played with allllll the time. Anyway. 

The four of us got into this weird Teletubby phase where we always played with them, that's pretty gay in itself, if I may say so. We took them everywhere. Once for Halloween, Brooke and I were ghosts, we dressed out Teletubbies as ghosts and carried them in a little purse under our sheet. Wow. I can't believe I'm revealing this type of information to the public. Once Eric left Clark when I was in 8th grade we never talked anymore. He was a high school student, too cool to talk to a middle schooler, and that's when I really started hanging around Brooke and her friends. 

That's an overview, let's go deeper. 

When I started Clark in fourth grade there was a boy named Parker. When I first met him I immediately started having thoughts like, "Wow, I want to be his friend.." and I didn't know why, and it scared the hell out of me. I never talked to him and had no reason to want to get to know him; I wasn't being friendly because it's not like we'd talked to have something in common to want to get to know more about him. It was my first little boy crush, and I can admit this now. How awkward is that? Being brought up always about love between a man and a woman and that's how it's supposed to be, only to have floaty moments with someone of the same sex. That's where my mask was created. 

I'd only had this feeling one other time in my life, and it was the first day of kindergarten. I walked in and saw a girl sitting at a table with another girl, and immediately told my parents "I want to sit at that table!" and we became best friends immediately. This girl, who will remain anonymous by request, and I were practically inseparable. We often had the same class throughout elementary school and when we got to middle school I worked up the guts to send her a "Will you go out with me?" note through the other girl at the table. When I got it back I opened it with a gulp and saw: "☑ yes" 

I kept that note until well into high school. We always wrote each other little "I love you" notes and talked on the phone about nothing for hours, but something was always beating in the back of my head. It never felt right. We never held hands, we kissed each other on the cheek once or twice, and something about the whole thing felt off. Eventually, she transferred to a different school in the middle of 7th grade and I never knew why, but we decided it'd be better off to just be friends. 

After that, I knew something wasn't right. I was upset by her absence and by how we didn't talk much, even when we saw each other again in high school, but I didn't really miss our relationship. I mean, it was a sweet thing, but I felt like I was lying to her the whole time. 

When I got to 9th grade, it really hit. I knew I didn't feel the same way towards girls when all of my friends would make exclamations at the size of someone's breasts and I would just kind of look at them like they were stupid, and especially when I started getting shy around my guy friends, ultimately getting to the point where I alienated myself from them due to the risk of them finding out. 

I faked crushes on girls in my grade to satisfy my parents, I faked being crushed when they said they weren't interested, I embarrassed myself multiple times by asking people out all so I had a reason to try and see what my parents thought about it, though I dare not say anything.

I was pretty friendless my freshman year. It was beyond lonely, I wasn't interested in being a jock, a player, or the "cool kid." I think it was my sophomore year when I met up with Brandie and Sheridan in Biology. I knew Brandie in 4th grade, and Sheridan and I were good friends until she transferred in 8th grade. They were my core group of friends from then on. They started to hint at my gay tendencies sometimes, and Brandie had a crush on me at some point. I was okay faking liking someone I knew wouldn't like me back, but I didn't have the heart to play with someone else's emotions and act like I felt the same way they did. I was beyond honest when I told her, "I don't want it to mess up our friendship." 

Junior year I met India through Brandie. India is pretty much one of the only things that I'm glad I went to Satsuma for, because had I not, I wouldn't have met the amazing girl. 

It started off rocky, she recently told me she couldn't stand me when we first met, but somehow I grew on her. Junior and Senior year were pretty much one in the same. They kept hinting at it, and one day we were leaving India's house and someone made a "Blake, you're gay" comment, so I took a gulp of air and said, "Only half.."

Immediately, Brandie slammed on brakes and every set of eyes in the car turned to look at me with their mouths wide open. Wait, what? Did I just come out? It was mad awkward. I had repressed my feelings early on and never imagined myself with a guy or a girl, I had grown content with loneliness. 

When I was confronted to talk about it, I wasn't sure what to say. Questions like "What's your type?" "Who do you like?" "Are you a top or a bottom?" came flying at me and I had no idea how to answer it. I didn't have a type, I didn't let myself like anyone, and hello, I'm still a virgin, so how would I know? 

Senior year it somehow got around, and I guess I became the token fat, gay, emo kid of the school. This was during the "MySpace Era" as I call it, and everyone had one. I started getting anonymous messages calling me a faggot and how I should kill myself and other things. I'd never really been the biggest ball of sunshine, and I tended to try and carve things into my thighs with a diabetic needle from time to time, so messages like these were just the cherry on top of the sundae. 

Graduation, at last. I can get the hell out of here and forget I ever met these people. I don't have to look at them again, and I can finally be around people who are more accepting in a college environment. That was the light and the end of a very long, dark tunnel. 

My family started it's annual beach trip that year, we were at Caribe in Gulf Shores, my mother and I fought the whole time, no surprise there. I don't know what got into me, but when I got back I tried to tell my mom I thought I was gay. 

[You can read the whole story of that here.]

Needless to say, it didn't go over so well. I started medicine for depression after I sat in my room and hoped that something would spontaneously fly through my window and end my time on this shitty planet. 

Brooke always tried to help. She'd always ask what was wrong, but I couldn't tell her. I couldn't tell anyone. There are secrets, then there are secrets. Brooke can't keep secrets. Everything I told her in confidentiality eventually found its way back to my parents' ears. It took a year of convincing for my parents to believe it was a phase. I don't know what they think about it now, though, honestly, and I'm too terrified to find out. 

First year and a half of college sucked pretty bad. I had one friend, Tara, whom I cherish dearly. We were nerds. Huge nerds. After all, we met because we were both computer majors. I spent most of my time hanging out with her. The summer before my sophomore year, I was at her house and she asked the question that I always dreaded hearing, but I was prepared to answer it. 

"So.. Blake. What's.. your sexual orientation?"

I immediately blurted out gay. I assumed she'd figured it out, especially when she said "I'm pretty sure I know, but just to make sure.." before she asked. I was like, oh, okay, she knows. 

Wrong. 

"Oh.. Really? I thought it was the other, actually. Uhm.. well. That's awkward, because I kind of.. thought of you as more.. than just a friend.."

Damn it. Not again.

There's nothing I hate more than someone having feelings I can't return. 

Our friendship kind of fell apart from there. We didn't talk as much and when we did it was pretty awkward. 

January 2010 I went to Passion with Brooke's church group because she asked if I'd go. I believed in God, but I hated organized religion. I still do. There's too many rules and regulations and I feel people are being huge hypocrites when they boast and preach to "live by the spirit" yet set all kinds of high standards and rules for the community. 

That's another story though.

Anyway, I had some major change of heart there and that's when life took its first positive turn in a long, long time; with it's costs. 

Due to such a massive change, a lot of my previous friends stopped talking to me. This hurt, but I kept going. 

Since then, I've dropped like ~50 lbs or something. 

Due to the weight loss, I gained a little confidence in myself. When I moved on campus, I wasn't really planning to go buck wild and break out onto the scene because I was scared out of my wits to tell anyone anything.

Here's where Daniel enters the picture, and inadvertently drags me out of my shell and onto the active LGBT community stage. I reconnected with India, and felt happy again. 

I'm at a point in my life where I feel I'm standing on a mountain of my past troubles and can see over the heads of all who looked down on me. 

I am living proof, and I honestly and whole-heartedly say this to anyone who needs to hear it:

Things do get better. 

It may not feel like it, but it takes time. 

xoxo 

B

Don't ask.

I know, I did it again.

I change the layout and name of this blog every night because I'm incredibly indecisive and think it's a good idea and then realize how stupid it really is. 

The current is inspired by my weird obsession with puzzles. I hate doing them, but I love puzzles. I love how pissed off I get when I'm trying to fit a piece everywhere it so obviously doesn't go, but how sometimes one will land just perfectly where it's supposed to. 

Life lessons can be learned from this, imo. I do it all the time, don't you?

I don't know. I'm weird. Whatever.

I could really use some feedback on these stupid blog revamps because I'm never going to be happy with it until someone else says they like it. 

Side note - I trashed my arm at the little work day thing today.

I got pushed against a cement pillar or something and like ripped

a hole right on my elbow. not happy about it. 

U-KISS - 시끄러!!

If zombies chase us, I'm tripping you.

Unless I like you, then I'll trip the person beside us so we can escape into the bloody sunset together and live to die another day. 

In other news, I think I just failed my CA 244 (Intro to Radio Production) Midterm. I was supposed to study for it last night, but somehow I got roped into going to Sonic with Daniel, which turned into going to Sonic with Daniel, Joe, and Jacob, which turned to going to Wal-Mart to buy Harry Potter clue, which turned to picking up Daniel's friend Jeffery, which turned to nobody knowing how to play Clue back at Daniel's apartment, which turned to everyone getting bored, which turned to Truth or Dare, which flopped because nobody wanted to do anything, which turned to me coming back at 1 a.m. and not studying for my test. Oops. Procrastination gets me once again. 

I have another midterm at 11 for my CA 281 (Editing & Layout) class. I'm hoping I'll do better. I have like an hour to study for it, rather than having 20 minutes to study while I wait for the bloody JagTran to get to the stop. 

Ugh. I woke up feeling like complete crap today. Idk why. It's probably because I'm too stupid and bullheaded to realize that I can't eat cheese like I used to anymore.. But I love it soooo much. :( It's so good, but whenever I eat it, it feels like I'm being stabbed in the stomach over and over again. It sucks quite a bit. Same with ice cream, damn lactose intolerance that randomly hit me at 19. 

Well anyway. I feel like puking my brains out but I hate throwing up when people are around because it's disgusting, and Josh is still here and he doesn't have class until like, 11. Great. :(

I really need to shower because I feel disgusting, but I also feel terrible so I don't want to do either. 

Whatevs, Blake, stop your whining. 

yes'm

I don't know what it is, but I'm really tired lately. Even if I sleep through the night, I never get that "well rested" feeling people boast about having all the time. D: 

I should probably go shower and study now I can do something productive with my life. 

Cont'd.

Well, hello again. It's been some time since we've spoken. Not much has happened in our absence of each other.

Okay, so a lot happened, but nothing too important or anything. I'm going to see how much I can write in the 20 minutes before my clothes are done in the washing machine. Gogogo.

I don't even remember when my last post was. Last Tuesday? Yeah. It was. Okay, well we'll  pick up from there, short and sweet version.

Tuesday night was a make-your-own-sushi party at Molly's house. It was a lot of fun and a good opportunity for people to just hang out and eat. I'm guessing I give off bad vibes or something because Molly always asks if I'm okay because I look pissed off. I don't mean to. I mean, yeah I get annoyed easily because people stomp all over my pet peeves because they don't know what they are. 

I was annoyed because it was supposed to be a night of 'fellowship', but I couldn't get anyone to pass the bowl of cucumber I spent an hour cutting up, and my sister didn't want to talk to anyone because she's a little mousy. 

Jessica and I started talking that night and at the end of the night I directed her to this blog to read my 'coming out story' and she sent me her life story. From then on, we've been like besties. 

Wednesday I hung out with Joe and Ashley watching Intramural Soccer, then went and studied for Geology with Daniel.

Thursday, I went to work and left to go study more Geology and attend the CA meeting. Fun, fun! We spanked the Geology test, though. I got a 96, Daniel got a 94. 

Wow, studying actually does help, who knew! 

Friday night I worked. 

Saturday I worked.

Sunday I worked.

I've had enough Sesame Street to last a lifetime. I had to work Sesame Street Live at the Mitchell Center; I love kids but OMG. There were so many, and they were so cute, but soo whiny. 

There were two shows a day and by the last one, I was singing along because I'd heard it so many times. I'd have to off myself if I actually had to perform in the show.

Monday sucked. Like bad.

I had to give a speech, I made an epic powerpoint and psyched myself up for it; I get in there and my PP won't play, I forget everything and just stumble through my words.

Stumble's too light a word, I fell flat on my face. 

I was mortified. 

But it's over. Things are good again. 

Life goes on. :)

ciao

Just Like a Pill - P!nk

Fall Break..

Didn't last long enough at all.

Ugh! I was just getting used to sleeping until 10 every day. Dang. All of our plans were complete flops, though. Originally, we planned to do a horror movie night on Friday. That failed. We got the movies, just didn't do it. We ended up going to Walmart to buy movies and other goodies, but spent 3 hours doing nothing. Lisa tried to figure out whether Aviators or typical shades looked better on her. We went with the Aviators, she looks ballin'.

See?

After that, we went back to India and Lisa's dorm. India was passed out in her bed after a crazy night at Bayfest. Bahaha, that was a funny encounter. After that was a failure, Dean said we'd do it the next night. 

That was a fail too. But! It was fun. Kind of. 

Joe came over around 2-3 and we watched "Eating Out 2: Sloppy Seconds"

It was.. interesting to say the least. Okay. It was funny as hell, lol. I love movies like this. After that was over, he went back to his room and planned to take a nap so he could stay awake for the supposed movie night. 

Que bueno!

Well. He didn't take a nap. Around 7 he came back and made coffee to wake him up more. He was on the phone with his friend AJ, who apparently wanted to talk to me, since Joe kept handing me the phone. I'm so awkward on phone. I hate talking to people on the phone because I can never hear what they say, lol. 

Well, we decided it'd be productive if we ordered pizza for the group while we watched movies. We called it in and waited for. e. ver. 

Once it finally came, they were waiting in the Delta Commons, we walked over and opened the door to an EXPLOSIVE conversation between Dean and Robin. Oh lord. 

I've grown accustomed to the fact that they are all screamers. I can deal with that much, but for heaven's sake, fight in a large open room for once! 

The room was small, so everything they screamed at the top of their lungs bounced off every surface it could before virtually stabbing my ears. 

The content of the conversation pissed me off quite a bit, but I didn't want to say anything. Dean could tell I was clearly pissed off, because the subject was just that of my previous post. I was even asked the question I despise the most.

"Why did you choose to like boys?"

If you want to ask a question like that, please take advice from the above feline. Thank you.

After we got kicked out of there, we decided to walk around and tell ghost stories because we're lame. Once I ran back to my room to get a water bottle and some Cheez-Its, we set off to India and Lisa's dorm to deposit anything of value, should we get mugged. Originally, we planned to read them from a laptop, but Lisa and Dean got the idea to make up their own, or tell ones from personal experience, blah blah. Joe ran and got his laptop just in case. Off we go!

We decided to head off the trails that led off around the traffic circle. We ended up near some building. There was a disc golf hole there, and a bridge over a little stream thing. We sat down, told like one or two, and everyone wimped out and decided to head back. Along the way, Dean and Sunflower thought it'd be cute to act as if they'd got abducted and hide in the woods.

Joe and Lisa were legit freaked out, Monica, Robin and I were just annoyed. I thought I saw them, but me and my terrible vision can't see anything at night. 

After that, we decided to play Hide & Seek. It was fun, but Lisa, Robin, and Dean aren't really runners, so I didn't get to actually chase and tackle someone.

(Again with the tackling someone. I really want to do that for some reason.)

Sunday I just hung out with India and Joe. I think. Or did I just do nothing that day? I don't remember. 

Monday we definitely did. It started off with going to the Market to eat, where India saw her BF2b and kept going back for food she didn't want to eat, but he was diligently cooking eggs. It was pretty good. I should go there for breakfast more often. This was the first week I actually used more than 5 of my meal plan meals. Yeahhh!

We planned to go to the Halloween store because only Joe has his costume. We got a little sidetracked talking about animals and decided to go to B&B Pet Store to go play with the animals. 

Omg! They were so cute. Joe and I started with the birds. Stupid butthole of a Cockatiel bit me the second I stuck my hand in the thing. Joe was aggressive with them, and just snatched em up. I'm too big a pansy to do things like that, until it came to the Parakeets. Their bites didn't hurt, so I wasn't afraid to just yank one up. This really cute blue one sat on my hand and bit my bracelet for like 5 minutes.

I've always wanted a bird :(

When we got to the ferrets only two were awake, and they were so freaking adorable! I love ferrets, but they smell like ass. I really want one, just because they're so cute and long and junk. We held a little black one and it kept trying to make out with me & India. I think I would want a white one, but I hate white stuff because it gets dirty so easily. Baw.

We moved on to the bunnies after that. Bunniessss! They're so cute and fluffy. I love them. While I was holding this massive one (India had the small black one I wanted) there was a small girl who looked like she had a St. Paul's uniform on holding little hamsters and gerbils and whatever, and one of them just peed all over her. It was hilarious. He was a distance peer, too. 

Somehow, I decided I wanted a fish. I've always complained about how plain my room is, so I thought a little fish bowl would be a way to spruce things up a bit. Joe decided he wanted one too. 

Introducing Jeffery!

Such a cutie pie. :D

We went to walmart for a bowl because I was too cheap to buy one at B&B, came back and set them up, then set off for the Halloween store.

Of course we found nothing. We're too picky. We went to some Chinese place in the Festival Center and it was pretty dang good. We sat there a good two hours and talked about junk. 

Today, I just slept until India called me saying she wanted to go eat a waffle, so we did that. I was starving, so no complaints here. 

I went to work, which was mostly preparing for the huge sushi making party tonight. Ended up running to walmart to buy orange lights for decoration, came back and set those up.

Made sushi, talked, had fun. 

Shared personal stories with one of the most awesome people I know.

Overall, a successful break, I'd say. I wish it had started on better terms, but I'm hoping that's been somewhat smoothed over. :\ 

'Til we meet again..

SHINee - Hello

The Long-awaited Confession: Being Gay in the South

To some people, this could be shocking. To others, it could be reassuring. To my sister, she'll probably have a heart attack, call my parents, who will then have a heart attack, who will then call and tell me to give back my car and credit card like they did two years ago.

Some people call this a choice.

Some people call this wrong.

Some people call this "being of the world".

I'm here to tell you it's none of these things. It is not a choice. I do not choose between liking a male or liking a female. I do not choose to be hated by society because I want a little kick. I do not choose to be excluded from my family because of the way my mind works. 

It's hard, people don't understand.

For years I hid everything from everyone. Some of you knew me through this time. I was miserable, awkward, angry. I realized something was different when I was in fourth grade. There was a kid named Parker and I found myself oddly attracted to him. I continued to have thoughts of 'I want to be friends with him" and I didn't know why. I never talked to him, I was too scared. 

When I was in 6th grade, I "dated" my best friend from Kindergarten. She was so awesome, and we constantly sent stupid little handwritten notes telling each other how much we loved each other. Things happened that I had no clue about up until a few months ago, and it turns out we had the same story. 

When I got into high school, I was shocked at how made-up all of the girls were. It was a huge turnoff. I found myself wanting to get close to the more natural of them. I had a huge crush on one girl, but then it just kind of died. During my sophomore year, I started to get awkward feelings towards some of my friends, causing me to distance myself from them. I couldn't look any guys in the face. I felt disgusting. I only spoke to girls and hoped they only spoke to me. 

Junior year I started to get a little more comfortable with myself. I claimed to be "Bi" around the people like Brandie, India, Kaitlin. 

Senior year was the same. I wasn't happy with myself, but I was getting there. Somehow it got out around the school and I started to get anonymous MySpace messages asking about it.  The summer because I started college, my family took its usual trip to the beach sometime in July. For whatever reason, after we got back I felt inclined to seek my parents approval of my homosexuality. My mom had always been the one to say, "Blake, you can tell me anything." So, I decided to take advantage of that and tell her the biggest secret of all. It started with me saying, "You know how you always pick on how I act sometimes and say 'Blake, gay people do that'? Well.. put two and two together." All she could say to that was "What are you talking about?" (My mom isn't the sharpest tack) So, I just blurted it out. She was shocked, I don't know how or why. All of the signs were there. The only way you could not see it was if you were completely against it convinced yourself that it was impossible. 

Fun fact: My mother bought me a Barbie when I was little. I remember it. It was the counterpart to a Barbie my sister got. Hers had a pink one-piece bathing suit with a pink heart inner tube. Mine had a blue two-piece bathing suit with a blue flower tube. She didn't buy them both for Brooke, she bought one for each of us. I grew up around girls my entire life. The only real male friends I had were Eric and Preston. Eric was older, Preston was way younger. Eric stopped talking to me when he hit Satsuma, and I just got annoyed with Preston easily. 

You know how they always ask if homosexuality behavioral or environmental? I can't really tell for sure what it is. I've felt like this from a young age, but I always grew up like it. I grew up with my sisters friends. We played dolls and watched chick flicks. I always longed to play dress up but always got the "that's not a boy game!" response. 

Anyway.

When I told my mom, she flipped. She called everyone she knew and went into a severe depression. I asked her to keep it to herself, but she never can. She called our family members, her friends, she even called my friends. She sent me to therapy for it. I came home one day to both of my parents sitting in dim lighting, they called me into the living room and said to sit on the couch. My mom started.

"Your dad said you can hand over your car keys, your clothes, your credit card, and everything else and get out if that's the type of life you want to live."

My own parents.

The supposed rock of my life. Where's that everlasting love a mother feels for her child? Just because I like males, I'm not allowed to be their son. 

Not many people understand the pain that comes with that kind of ultimatum. It took me a year to convince my parents it was a phase. I was so close to getting out. So close to being free, but no. I was sealed back as tightly as ever. 

I slipped back into my depression, went back on medication. Nothing helped. All I wanted to do was die. I barely got out of bed, I rarely left the house, and I never smiled. 

So, now that I'm living on campus and have gotten away from my parents, I've started feeling better about myself. My sister says that I act this way because I try to conform to whoever I'm hanging out with so that I can have more in common with them. Sometimes this is true. 

Clothing-wise, I copy a lot of people. I don't like to try anything new until someone tells me I can pull it off. If I bought a graphic tee, my mother would think it was some kind of teenage angst/punk rebellion I was trying to pull off, so all I could ever wear was plaid and polos. 

It's weird though. I can't deny that I do morph some aspects of my personality in order to cater to the personalities of others, that's just because I know I'm extremely rough around the edges and want to appeal to the person as much as possible. This could be taken as a compliment, because it means that I want you to like me, but I don't know if you'll like me for who I am. 

I do this to a lot of people, and I'm sorry. 

I have a severe inferiority complex when it comes to meeting people. 

where was I going with this? oh yeah.

I only recently became comfortable with myself when I learned what started to work for me. 

In my Geology class, I was approached by someone whom I found attractive the first day of class. When he asked my name, I hiccuped a little out of surprise. When I got a facebook message later that day, I was blood red in the face. This was the first time someone I had a slight crush on had ever talked to me. 

Lyk oh em gee ~~!

Anyway. I will forever thank Daniel for being the one to pull me completely out of my shell. Things might not have worked out, but I hope to forever retain a strong friendship with him. 

But still, back to the main point. 

I'm just tired of keeping everything bottled up. I think it's time to burst out from behind brightly colored curtains and scream,
"Hello world, this is Blake!" 

It's nice to do that. I'm actually starting to be happy on a daily basis, despite recent happenings. Some people will probably look down on people like Daniel, who encouraged me to be who I am, but I will defend him, and the others, to my grave. 

In conclusion: 

This is not a choice, this is a lifestyle. 

I am not ashamed of it.

I do not believe it is wrong. 

I do believe that it is possible to be a homosexual and also a Christian. 

and, if somehow you missed it, yes. I am a homosexual. 

A few thank you's -

India: Jeez, what can I say to you? You've been one of the biggest helps of all. Always encouraging me to be myself by being nothing but when it comes to you. I'm so glad we've rekindled our friendship. I love you!

Daniel: I don't even know how you came into the picture. What possessed you to find out who I was, then follow through and talk to me. Whatever did, I thank it and you for it. You were an amazing addition to my circle of friends, and I really hope that we can smooth over the current situation.  

DeAnn: Guh, we may not have talked much at Satsuma, but I'm so glad we're good friends now!  I love you :)

Brooke: You're paranoid, you're overprotective, and you're a little stressful. But, I love you for it because you're always there when I need you. I hope that this one truth doesn't change anything between us. 

The little things

That's always been such a classic saying.

"Enjoy the little things"

It's true. Some people strive for money and materials for happiness, some for companionship, others for physical needs. Sex, surgery, skin tone, shape. But, for me, just being around the people I love is enough. Sure, my friends aren't exactly normal. No, we're not like everyone else. Yes, we like who we are. 

Who knew you could have so much fun simply spending 3 hours in walmart on a Friday night? Spending 30 minutes trying to figure out which shades look better on Lisa, falling asleep on a box of canned juice, using the display laptops to take seductive pictures for the next viewer to discover, finding a spongebob ski mask. That's what the little things are. 

I could have gone to bayfest and I probably could have found someone to buy alcohol had I wanted it. I could have gotten completely hammered and done something I wouldn't remember the next day. I could have drunk dialed someone and begged them to come back, but I didn't need to. The little things in life are sufficient for me. 

God is my foundation, my friends are the building, and the little things are my furnishing. I don't need alcohol to have a good time. I don't need to hook up with people to make me feel better about myself. I'm just having fun being me. 

Does doing these things make me think differently about a person? No. If it did, I wouldn't have very many friends. Each person has their own prerogative and their own agenda, and I firmly believe I am in no position to attempt to alter someone else's. 

But. Sometimes people cross paths in a bit of a negative way. A bump in the proverbial road of life. What happens when you come to a pothole or a speed bump while you're on the road? You either:

A. Avoid it

B. Bulldoze over it

C. Stop and turn around

D. Some twisted form of all the above

I would choose A. Not to make the situation an elephant in the room and to ignore it. Address it, confront it, ease it, let it go. That's my philosophy. What does holding a grudge do for anyone? 

Grudge -

–noun

1.

a feeling of ill will or resentment: to hold a grudge against aformer opponent.

–adjective

2.

done, arranged, etc., in order to settle a grudge: The middleweight fight was said to be a grudge match.

–verb (used with object)

3.

to give or permit with reluctance; submit to unwillingly: The other team grudged us every point we scored.

4.

to resent the good fortune of (another); begrudge.

–verb (used without object)

5.

Obsolete . to feel dissatisfaction or ill will.

Grudges do nobody good. It doesn't make the holder feel better, and it doesn't do anything for the enticer. 

In short, what I'm saying is:

Get over it people, I love all of you(you know who you are.). Everyone just shake hands and wave your white flags. This entire thing is stupid. Nobody is getting anything out of it. 

That was a total unexpected turn in this little post. I don't know where it came from really. My little fingers just move wherever my mind wants them to.