Monday, July 7, 2008

Chest Pains

After my last entry, I become keenly aware that people don't care about the ridiculously boring drivel that is my everyday life. But I wonder to myself how LondonPreppy can write about mundane things and still get a bazillion comments from adoring fags all over the world (I am one of them). "Today I went to work and I hate work and then I went to the gym and I hate the sun and then I ate dinner and then I thought about killing myself but was too tired." Granted, that was very much paraphrased. Oh right, LondonPreppy posts pictures of his very own bulging pectorals. I don't want to be shallow and judgemental but I really think that one difference between us makes all the difference. But the gay blogging community isn't completely superficial. They probably also recognize that his writing is funnier/better than mine. Which is quite embarrassing for me seeing as how English is his second language. Kind of makes me want to crawl under a giant boulder and play tic-tac-toe with an earthworm until I die. But alas, something of interest has come up in my life that will certainly make for some Pulitzer worthy material.

So daddy comes home early and I ask him why he is early and he tells me that he went to the cardiologist and I say oh. I don't press it any further because I really don't know how to speak to daddy and I never have and I never will. So after the short discourse, I continue with my business until later on in the night when daddy confronts me angrily and asks me why I don't care about him and why I don't love my own family. Apparently he had a checkup for a possibly serious heart condition and was very hurt that I didn't ask him how he was doing. And the entire time, I sit there silently because I want to tell him that I do care and that I do love my family to assuage his pain, (and my own guilt), but that would be a lie. I stopped loving my family a long time ago. And despite what they claim, they stopped loving me long before that. They love the person they think I am, the person they expect me to be. But my, "persona" if you will, is just a big charade. If they knew who I really was, they would never love me.

I try not to think about it too often, the fact that nobody knows the real me. Because when I do, I can't help but feel like I am completely alone. As much as I would like to come out, there isn't anybody in my life that I trust enough not to rip my heart apart. And although I pretend like I don't care about any of this and I don't mind being alone, I really hate it. I am getting so tired of not having anybody to talk to. And my desperate attempts to find a boyfriend are probably funny and everything but really they are just part of my pathetic search for the unconditional love that I have yet to experience and maybe never will. But I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself.

As far back as I can remember, I've always solved my own problems. Even as a kid I knew that the last place I should go when something goes wrong is to my parents. Because if it's emotional they don't care and if it's academic they care too much and if it's a cold they just yell at me for not wearing a coat. In the end, getting them involved just made my problems worse. And judging from their reaction to the little things, I knew that coming to them with weighty issues would be suicide for me. So yes, I find it ironic that daddy would accuse me of not being there for him when I know that in my time of need and when I need him the most, he will look right into my eyes and turn his back on me.


Matt said...

Wow, that made me really sad. I know you don't know me, but you can talk to me if you want. Nobody should be alone, feeling the kind of things you do.

Zee said...

Hey man, I just started reading your blog. Don't worry you are actually a pretty good writer.

I kinda understand what you are going through but not completely. Nobody lives the exact same life as somebody else so it would be wrong to claim that I fully understand where you are coming from. If you want to talk, I am always around to listen.

Aek said...

It's almost eerie how closely your situation almost mirrors mine. Also how weird you almost mirror my "downest down" so concisely. My parents will yell at me over the cell phone if I ignore more than 3 calls from them . . .when I finally do pick up. I know that sentiment all too well.

As with the other commenters, we're all here to listen if you feel like ranting and whatnot.

j said...

matt: i can't believe somebody as famous as you spoke to me.

zee: i actually think i am a really good writer and was being sarcastic. but thanks for cutting me down to size.

aek: we should commiserate

Andrew said...

Well, you're getting plenty of attention now. Even Matt commented! Just keep writing and you'll get more comments. People like Matt and London Preppy have been writing quite a big longer and have earned a large following. May not count for much, but I like your blog, even if it does make me want to slit my wrists a little bit.

Mr. Intellectual said...

It's so sad, but that's EXACTLY how I feel. I feel like NO ONE actually loves the real me, especially my parents. It seems as though they only love the persona I present to them, the persona they want me to have. They seem to be complete selfish bastards who have done nothing but try to impose their own will on me; at least this is certainly the case when it comes to religion and sexuality.

Then again, I could be wrong. Perhaps all that is just in my head, and if I dared show them the real me, maybe they would actually still love me. Though, when they go on about God and how messed up "today's society" is surely one must conclude that they really believe that or why else would they rant and sigh over it? The problem is that somehow they fail to realize that I am a part of the society of today.

I still love my parents though. It's not their fault that they think the way they do, and certainly no one loves their idea of me more than they.

Anonymous said...

i can't claim to know your particular situation J, but the biggest lie in the world for us new gay guys is that we are alone. i know i told myself that for a long one could know/understand my unique situation, etc. it's just not true.

maybe this will take making a new Family for you, but do what you need to to get right. there's plenty of people out there that will love the real you unconditionally.

The Blackout Blog said...

Well, I'd like to echo the sentiments above but 1) it seems redundant, 2) it took me 3 tries to spell 'sentiments' correctly, and 3)... I don't know, but a list just feels more complete with 3 items.

ROFL @ the London Preppy imitation. Spot on!

Straight Guy from NYC said...

Not sure if it matters to comment after so much time, but this is marvelous.
This is much more universal that you may think. In certain cultures of course where families and clans limit the choices and the privacy of their members.
Choosing to become a writer when they expect you to be a doctor. Marrying someone of a different ethnic, racial or religious background.
And so on.
Yes, sad, but also meaningful to others who have gone through the same and sympathize with your case.

Dan said...

I have a fairly similar family situation as you do. I find it funny/heartwrenching that the people who are supposed to be closest to us sometimes end up being completely foreign.

I sympathize for you and hold out some hope that you'll be able to salvage some sort of relationship with your parents.