The Second Post is the Hardest

The second blog post seems like a difficult one. It makes a blog a blog, rather than just a single statement. I want this to be a blog, so I thought I'd get my second post out of the way. I thought I'd tell you how I realized I was gay. And, how I realized I had my other condition.

So. I realized I was gay at what I would say is a a young age. I was ten. I knew that I liked boys before that. And that I was different from other boys even before that. When I was very little, I liked to dress up in my mother's and grandmother's high heels. I also liked to play with Barbies, My Little Ponies and other typically girly toys. But, I'm pretty sure that by the time I was in 1st grade, I had stopped playing with those kinds of toys. No one told me to stop, nor was I ashamed. I think it was just that by the age of five, sports had taken over as my main activities - soccer, baseball, basketball, and tennis. So I played more with boys and Nerf guns and action figures.

Now, to the day when I realized I was gay. As I said, I realized before that day that I liked boys rather than girls. I just didn't know that there was a name for it. I was in fifth grade and my class had lined up to go somewhere, because in elementary school, if a class was going somewhere, it was going there in a line. So we were all in line waiting to leave, and the girl in front of me, Emily, said, "Being gay means being a boy with the mind of a girl." I can't remember what lead a group of fifth-graders to talk about that, nor can I remember what happened after that. But, to my ten-year-old mind, it was perfect. I knew that I was gay. Or, rather, that what I was had a name. Then several things fell into place very quickly. I realized that Emily's definition of gay was a good effort, but not accurate. I knew that I didn't have the mind of a girl, but I instinctively knew I was gay. I was absolutely not ashamed. I knew that there was absolutely nothing wrong with being gay. I have never, ever, not even once wished that I wasn't gay. Though I also instinctively knew that I would tell no one for a long time.

My realization about my mental condition happened over a much longer time period. Looking back, I can see it starting to affect my life around the 7th grade. But I don't think I realized that something was wrong until my freshman year in high school. I would find myself getting extremely uncomfortable in certain situations. Slowly, I began to realize that my discomfort was not a normal response, that it was in fact completely irrational. When I realized my discomfort was actually fear and that it also had physical manifestations, I was able to research what my probelm was and give it a name. I guess it was nice to know the name of my condition, but any relief I felt was tempered with the pain and disappointment of actually having it.

So, that's that. For some reason, it seems to me like I came to these realizations in the opposite way I should have. It just feels like I should have come to a gradual realization that I was gay and that I should have realized something was wrong with me much earlier than I did. Maybe that would have made things easier, at least.

I've Just Recently Begun

I've just recently begun to read a spate of blogs by closeted gay men (and one by a guy who's out). So, I guess that's a good place to start - I'm a gay guy who's still in the closet. Yes, it sucks, but it is not the worst part of my life. I have a condition which is debilitating. I'm not sure I want to name it because, while not rare, it is specific. I would like to remain anonymous, and if I tell you what it is, I think it would be much easier to tell who I am. I will, however, tell you that it is a mental condition. And, no, I am not crazy. This is where the title of my blog comes from. Whenever I see the prompt "describe yourself in a few words," (or some variation of that) I think, and what comes to mind is, "Mostly, I'm just scared." Most things don't scare me, but a very specific thing does and it makes me scared most of the time. Being gay is not the thing that scares me. Though I would say condition certainly prevents me from coming out.

The reason I decided to start blogging is because while extremely narcissistic, it does seem to provide catharsis. The closeted guys especially seem to find solace, happiness even, in anonymously sharing their struggles. I'm hoping that I'll be able to find at least some of that through this blog. Also, I did want to note that my blog will not just be depressing stories nor me whining. I will also write about other things - and when I figure out what those things are, I will let you know. Or, just write about them.

Just a final notes about comments: I decided I would like people to leave comments. At first, I thought it would be desirable to write a blog and have no idea who or how many people were reading it. In the end though, I decided that I did want people to read it, and leaving comments would prove that I do have readers. So, please do leave comments. I will say that I am the type of person who reads blogs and never comments. However, I would greatly appreciate it if you, kind reader, would leave me a comment. And, in return, I will try to leave comments on others' blogs.