Circles

Why is it whenever I'm in a depressed mood, all the bad things that happened to me comes flooding back, gushing to the forefront of my brain? Once that happens i keep spiralling down until a small voice in my head snaps me back to reality. I don't like to be depressed, i don't like depressed people....ummm i should rephrase that , depression is a normal part of being human and like myself i expect everyone to fall victim to it ever so often, what i don't like however are people who use their depression as an attention gatherer , you know the whiny ones who can only sing one song " no one likes me, I'm nothing , pay attention to me or I'll die", the ones who do not even make any sort of effort to lift themselves out of it, the ones that ENJOY being depressed. I don't enjoy the company of people like that.

Moving on-- during one of my depressed spates I've noticed that i no longer beat myself up about being gay, i no longer want to cause myself pain cause I'm attracted to guys, i no longer wish i was dead because of it. Its weird that i've reached a point in my life where i am finally comfortable in my own skin, comfortable with my sexuality (but not that comfortable to finally admit it to my family or friends) ...to be continued

When i was young...

The younger me was feminine, i hung out with girls and never could blend in with all the guys. My sisters, yes sisters 4 of them were like my best friends, my brother however was my mortal enemy....mom couldn't leave him and I in a room alone cause bet your bottom dollar when she comes back one of us would be dead. I dare say i hated him, i don't know why but i did. My cousins were all girls, the ones around my age, the guys would have nothing to do with me because i was young and the younger boys were just to little to hang with, so i was constantly surrounded by girls.

I won't say i had a horrible child hood, because i know that many children experienced worse that i did. My child hood as i remember it was good. My parents tried their best to provide for 6 of us, we didn't get everything we asked for, most of the times i would be wearing my brother's hand me downs.Looking back today I am very grateful for having both my parents, we were poor..mom is a typical Indian housewife....she would take care of all the house duties, while dad was the breadwinner....small difference though my dad loved to cook and often he would tell my mom to take a rest while he would prepare the meals on weekends.Never had much of anything but we made do with whatever we had, yea i complained, cried, hated them at some times but we always had clean clothes, and food however meager in our tummy. I am grateful today.

I don't know when i grew out of my feminine behavior, maybe it was the first fist fight i had in Secondary School, but i did....the years that i was the girly boy was torture....it still tortures me today. I'd like to think hanging with all those girls had some sort of effect on me...i didn't know how a boy was supposed to act. All i know is in the eyes of everyone else i was girly.Primary school was probably the worse, I was never a good looking boy.. the constant name calling, i was made fun of on a daily basis not only by students but by teachers as well. I would be kicked, punched and pushed during recess, didn't know why I never tried to fight back, truthfully i was scared i would have gotten my ass kicked. I took it ,became a quiet introvert child at school, home however i was deemed a menace, a child full with issues, anger issues. Fighting with my brother, with the neighborhood children, disrespecting the adults. Of course all this ended up as licks for me. The next day i would do it all over again i never cared for life.

I had a couple of friends, they were great, we were the outsiders, no one liked us ..we didn't care. Mom tried her best with me academically, she would sit and teach me, even though she only had a high school education she tried, and it paid off...i was always at the top of my class, from infants straight up to std 5 i was always in the top 5. It was something i was proud of, no matter how many times i stupesed at it like i didn't care, i did. My sister encouraged me to join the temple at a young age, i picked up dancing. I excelled at it...this wasn't good, but no one objected , parents were supportive...but this Indian dancing, coupled with my fem ways meant death by degrees. I ended up being the lead of the group, we danced at Diwali shows, at school functions, at cookings...i was a performer. All this happened in primary school,this didn't sit well with my bullies, it only gave them more ammo. I was labeled aunty, fag, buller...you name a name I've been called it.

I didn't care dancing made me happy. I had male friends they were kool with it, strangely they never associated with me when their parents were around, do i blame them? My dad hardly spoke to me during this time, i was my mothers child, well as much as i would let her. I was still a menace. I was betrayed by many friends who turned on me and starting teasing me, it was considered the cool thing to do. Only one teacher would care whether or not i was being bullied during break time, she was an angel, the others seemed to rather enjoy it or didn't care. After performing in our own Diwali function in my village,i was picked on there too....one small difference, home i fought back. I got into so many fights at home that my mom forbid me to go outside. So i was kept inside entertained by the television.

I had alot of girl crushes in Primary school, my heart would melt at the site of Aariti she was my love, we were friends I never confessed my love to her ( haha love at such a young age) but treasured every moment spent with her. In std 4 and 5 my focus shifted from Aariti and unto other girls, but i was always deemed ugly and rejected....yea childhood heart beak was the worse, and childeren can be very mean and evil.I never had luck with girls.

When i would walk the street to go to the shop however the name calling would happen, i would just flip the guys the bird and go on with my life, even the shopkeeper would make fun of me. It was not nice. But I pushed on. There were times i wished i was dead, i cursed god...i hated everyone and everything...but i pushed on. I had one best friend and he would stick up for me in school. The girls i hung out with would stick up for me also, those were the days i went home happy. Sometimes they wouldn't be around and i would have to experience the full brunt of the bullying, I cant tell you how many times i cried in Primary school. In fact my eyes are welling up with water as i write this.

I don't know how my fem behavior affected my family, i was too caught up in my own dark world to notice, but I'm guessing my brother hated it that's why we couldn't get along . I was a fighter and i still am. But only when i am pushed to my breaking point, other wise i use the line sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will not hurt... much. But words hurt alot. Can you imagine being 10 years walking the street and having grown adults calling you names like buller...i didn't even know what buller meant, all i knew it was bad. The day before common entrance ( an exam to judge which secondary school you are qualified for ) I was zombified, he choked me so hard i thought i would die, this incident stands out in my mind because my mom noticed the marks around my neck and asked me if i was fighting, i said yes...i got a coating of licks. Anyway it really screwed with my head, because he threatened to kill me once again..I went into the exams room a scared child. When results came out some months after, everyone had a puzzled look on their face when i passed for a 5 year secondary school instead of one the more prestigious 7 year colleges.

Never the less i was proud, cause my best friend passed for the same school, his parents weren't satisfied so he re wrote the exam. I was all alone once again heading out to secondary school. My parents however were filled with glee, since my brother and sister had both previously passed for 3 year junior secondary, i was the first to pass for a 5 year in my family. I was promised a bike, it never came...i did however get KFC and in my family that was just as good. I sat down and made up my mind that secondary school would be a new beginning for me , that i would leave everything behind and start new. I quit dancing much to my sisters and everyone in the group dismay....I was excited for this new chapter in my life, maybe for once i would love school....A new beginning is what i told myself.

A memory

Looking back no matter how hard i try, i can't seem to pinpoint the exact time when i realized i was gay. Guys were never interesting to me in Primary school, i had many girl crushes, in Secondary School it was the same , until the middle of form four when Assad was transferred to our school, from St Georges College....the first time i laid eyes on that boy, i was in love.His eyes, his smile, the way his hair fell right above his eyes.....everything.... Being the prefect I was assigned to show him around, of course I did not mind. I tried my best to contain my excitement , and played it cool. He was my first boycrush. I would do anything to be close to him, trade seats, volunteer to be his lab partner...i was a desperate dee dee. We actually became good friends, he sat next to me during all our free periods, we exchanged notes during class, sharing jokes, dissing each other...i was in love...I was scared also that someone would find out, so even though i wanted to be with him every single free moment, i couldn't. Whenever he sat next to me and our legs touched i would melt, his hand brushed against mines on more than one occasion, i was beginning to think that he felt the same way.I dare not say anything,just relished the moments it happened. He came from a very strict Muslim family, so its more probable if anything was there he would have suppressed it. After form 5 we kept in contact a couple months, and then that was it , i never heard from him again. My lack of a house phone was a major cause for this .Occasionally I would get a letter to which a reply was sent, just to touch base.I ran into him earlier this year at the gas station, we recognized each other , he was on the opposite side so we just waved, all my feelings just rushed back , and i realized that i truly was in love with him.He sent me a friend request on FB, where we spoke a bit. Even though nothing happened, and nothing ever will ( he's engaged) I still treasure that warm feeling i got when he sat next to me, or wrote a joke to cheer me up, he will always have the title of being my first ever boycrush.