I’ve been wanting to post this for a while now, but it never seemed like the right time. I remember when I was going through that really dark place and took some time off,  asking you guys if you were even interested, and ofcourse you were.  It would take pages to go into details about everything so I will give the  “generic”  version of the story so to speak.

I consider my life an open book, I have nothing to hide so please feel free to ask any questions you like. Hopefully this will help you guys understand who I am a bit better and also clear up some of the questions that some of you have had.

As a boy I was molested and raped by the neighbor’s son. This went on for a couple of years until we eventually moved. When it started it was only him, but later as time  went by,  a friend and his younger brother got involved as well.

My mother hated me and use to physically and emotionally abuse me until I was almost out of high school. I remember one time, shortly after we had moved to Florida, that she was particularly upset. She took a handful of my hair and dragged me to the bedroom and shoved me down. I landed on the bed and she got on top of me, held down my arms with her knees and began punching me in the face and wherever she could connect.  She never would hit my sisters, which I was very thankful for, and it was actually one of them that yelled for her to stop, that finally made her get off of me. She then told me how much she hated me, how I was the worst mistake of her life and how she should have had an abortion when she had the chance. I never hit my mother back, I knew if I ever allowed myself to do that…I wouldn’t stop.  My entire family, aunts, uncles, grandfather all knew what was going on but never did anything about it. My uncle told me to just stick it out and deal with it..it couldn’t be that bad. My aunt would give me little pep talks and tell me I’d be ok.

Finally, I escaped the madness and moved away to college. It was there that I met what I considered my first boyfriend. Ofcourse, being at a christian college neither of us admitted that we were gay. We had our relationship and never put a tittle on it. He was also the first person to cheat on me.  I eventually took him back, and ended up helping me pick out the engagement ring for his wife. He never admitted he was gay, and only got married because of pressure from his Father who was a pastor.  I went to his wedding and wished him the best. I was able to spend some private time with him before it began. We hugged and kissed…I cried..and then it was time for the wedding.

During  my second semester of college, I found out my mother had pancreatic cancer and was only given about 2 months to live. She had all kinds of surgery and chemo and eventually beat the cancer a few years later and is still in remission. I say she’s just to mean to die. It was my third semester that I found out my father (who lived in Michigan still) had parkinson’s decease. He asked that I come and help him, so I left college and moved back to Michigan to take care of him. A year later, I moved my father and my mother into the same house in Florida so that I could take care of both of them in one location.  I took care of my father until he passed away a few years later.

I met my Partner Jordan about a year later.  He was the first person to love me for who I was, no questions asked. He taught me it was ok to be who I was, and loved me unconditionally. The first person ever in my life to do that. He taught me how to love in return. He lived in another state and we were making arrangements to live together full time. While on a plane to see him, he was murdered. I got a sickening feeling about 30 minutes before we landed and knew something was wrong. When we landed he wasn’t there to pick me up, I just knew. By the time I made it to the house, the police and everyone were already there. Being a big guy..I plowed them over and made my way into the house.  I saw the man that I loved more than life itself, my soul mate laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.  Insticts took over (from years of working in healthcare) and I began trying to revive him. They ended up having to pull me off of him.

 The rest after that is blurry, I don’t remember much after that for quite a while. After Jordan died I lost everything. I lost  my house, my car, my job, friends and family. I was then kicked out of church for being gay and told it was my fault Jordan was killed that God was sending me a message to turn straight.  It was then I became homeless and tried to kill myself.

Since then I’ve spent my life attempting to rebuild and trying to sort through my life and figure out what the hell to do. I was in survivor mode  for the longest time  just doing what I could do to make it day by day. Things had started to look up when I hurt my back…which is what I currently suffer from. I have nerve damage and some other shit. I’m in constant pain and regularly lose the feeling in my arms and legs with no warning. I stopped driving when I was going down the interstate at 80 mph and lost the feeling in legs. Scary Shit!

I now live with my sister and continue to fight to get disability. I still don’t understand how they expect me to work, when I can’t sit or stand in any position for any lengh of time, not to mention I randomly lose feelings in my arms and legs. Add to that the constant pain, muscle spasm,sciatic nerve pain etc, etc. and they still expect me to hold down a job. Thankfully my sister is as wonderful as she is and takes care of me, while I fight. I feel like I’m a burden and it really bothers me that I can’t help, but she assures me all the time, that it’s ok.

I’ve started to work on the relationship with my mother, for my sisters. I’ve tried before and she remains the same bitter hateful person. Our relationship isn’t great, but whatever atleast I’ve tried.

That is my story.