Well, we're back, and keeping the ever-so-typical theme of life problems. Nobody reads this, so it's nice to vent about things bothering me when I can't actually confront them physically.
My life's been a complete roller coaster lately; so many ups and downs that I'm starting to question the properties of gravity. For the past year, I've basically been on a journey of self discovery- trying to figure out what makes me tick, what causes me to do some of the things I do, or things I say, etc. It's long a boring and anybody that does stumble upon this wouldn't want to read about stupid shit like that anyway.
The main issue in this post is the relationship between myself and my mother. The pain in my heart has been rising to unbearable heights as of late due to an increase in the tension between her and myself because of my sexuality and "lifestyle".
The kinds of things you read on the internet, see in the "It Gets Better" videos all over youtube, and hear about from all kinds of growing up gay help sites. I've told my coming out story countless times, down to each gruesome detail. I'm not trying to be a poster child for disillusioned parents who can't seem to grasp a very minor idea that nothing made us this way, there's nothing to blame for it, nothing you can do about it, and no reason in trying to fix what isn't broken. It's not a medical condition that can be cured with medication, it's not a mental disability that can be cured through therapy. It's simply a fact of life.
The other day, my mother and I got into a huge fallout because of something I repeated, a completely irrelevant subject and irrelevant statement that would go completely ignored by a normal person, but instead, she snapped. Again, not going into that. That's too much stupid shit to even worry about. After it was over, or at least I thought it was over, I just shut up and walked away. She burst my door open and says, "You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to call all of my friends up and be like, 'You know Blake's gay, right?' and we'll see how it feels for you to be degraded."
The last word of that sentence broke me. Broke my heart, broke my mind, and broke my spirit. I don't give a shit about gay comments from random people, they play no role in my everyday life and their opinion doesn't differ from what someone thousands of miles thinks of me, but my mother, one half to the whole that brought me into this world, one of the main bricks in the foundation of my life, using something completely out of my control as a personal attack against me completely fucked my head up. I've heard stupid shit like that from tons of people. They might as well be speaking to a wall, because that's as much attention as I pay to them.
I still hear my mother's voice in that cold, vengeful tone saying the word "degraded" over and over as if it's an echo trapped in a space with no escape. The vibrations bounce and jump, but it just gets louder.
I'm one of the people that's always been the type to have the "Your life may be bad, but somebody, somewhere is worse off than you." A statement true for everybody.
That was the first time I've openly allowed myself to burst into tears in front of somebody. Not over the phone, but in person. I don't think I could have made it through that night without the three angels that came to me in the form of some of my closest friends. To this night, two of them still don't know what happened. It took everything I had to keep a straight face and not turn into the sob story of the party.
Anyway.
Blah, blah, blah, sob sob etc.
Fuck that.
I'm over being the pitiful little child I am on the inside, on the outside. It's time I put my big boy diaper on and treat life like it treats me. They say you'll never get what you want unless you take it, and that's what I'll do. Grab life by the balls and pull a role-reversal. It's time for you to be my bitch, and I'm not holding back like you did for me.
