August 31, 2004

Nice weekend!

Not really got anything ground breaking to talk about today; but just that I had a lovely weekend!

It was good to see that at the rescue centre where I volunteer on a Saturday that we were down to only five dogs. It would be nice to see the two young black labradors which have been with us for a long time now go to a new home. The trouble is people only see them when they are going mental in their small kennels; I have often thought it would be nice to have a small enclosed paddock where people could see the dogs running about and having fun rather than cooped up in the small kennel. I am sure that way bigger dogs in particular would go to new homes far more quickly.

Then a large part of Sunday and the Bank Holiday Monday were taken up with dancing. The usual night at the Swan, was fun though uneventful. I have to say though it was nice to see that there were only a couple of the hideous trannies. Yesterday was spent at Peggy Spencer's Ballroom Blitz at the Royal Festival Hall. Of course this was not a gay event, but I am pleased to say there was a great deal of poofery going on, including a fair deal of closet cases, and those who are not yet old enough to know they are pillow biters. A couple of my friends drove, and then a fourth arrived;we got there quite early, and I think we were the first male couples to take to the floor. It was interesting to see how nervous two of my friends were dancing with another man. It is something that I don't even think about any longer, dancing with a woman would just not feel natural. I am glad to say as the day went on we were joined by a fair few others, and even a few lebanons. We were of course the most sophisticated people there.

Then in the evening hunger took hold, and 5 of us went into Soho for a meal. That too was nice; lovely company, good food, and a stunning and friendly waiter! It is something that I think we should do more often!

Anyhow that is the end of today's blog!


August 27, 2004

People are strange

It has been a couple of days since I last updated my blog, I was mulling over topics, but nothing flowed. You could say I have had blog block! LOLAnyhow something happened yesterday that inspired today's effort.

Just over a year ago I started chatting to a young bloke online. He seemed nice enough, and looked good...big and hairy mmmmmmm. Anyhow we met up one evening, and the chat was as fluid as it had been online, we got on really well. Over the next few months we met up regularly, and he seemed to confide in me, and to a certain extent he seemed to look up to me. He was much younger than me. He was a very confident young man, but this confidence can come across as arrogance.

This arrogance manifested itself when it came to him and other men. He was confident enough to just go up to talk to guys he fancied in a bar or club. This in itself was not a problem to me, good on him even. The problem came if, God forbid, they were not interested for whatever reason. He would go off the deep end. There were many times that we were out, and he had gone to chat someone up, but he had been rejected; at that point the evening was over we would have to leave. At first that is what I did; as the chauffeur I drove him home listening to how fantastic he was and how he could not understand why anyone would not want to shag him.

Then he started going out with a bloke. He was a reasonably nice guy, who seemed to like said friend a lot. But as an outsider on the relationship it was evident that my friend totally dominated, and the other guy was a doormat. Needless to say the relationship did not last more than a couple of months and my friend moved on to find more victims, and get pissed off at rejection.

During this time I also started chatting to another guy, who has since become a good friend. I told friend #1 about friend#2 and the next thing I knew #2 had been contacted on gaydar by #1.
#2 is quite new to all things gay, and in my opinion was not ready for the likes of #1. I told him so many times in online chat, but nevertheless a date was arranged. Needless to say the date was a bit of a disaster, and #1 could not understand why #2 would not go back with him. Well anyhow to cut a long story short a short time passed, then I got a distressed and angry message from#2. He had copied and pasted an MSN conversation and forwarded it to me, I was shocked by what I had read. #1 was just downright nasty and spiteful, all because the guy did not want to sleep with him. To be honest if I had not read it for myself I would not have believed it; some time previously someone had told me about a similar event he had had with #1; but I had dismissed it as being a misunderstanding.

I was disgusted by the actions of friend#1; he tried to talk to me on various online chat forums in the days that followed. But I told him I did not want to talk to him as I was that angry. A few months have now passed, and until yesterday had had no contact. Now in those few months I cannot say that I have missed #1, and so I don't think I shall be responding to any further contact.

It never astounds me how strange some people can be!

August 24, 2004

First impressions

Isn’t it weird how wrong people’s impressions can be. A few months ago a good friend of mine brought one of his friends out with him. This bloke is what I would consider to be very attractive. We were introduced on this first occasion, and the only interaction we have had has been brief and basically the formalities of saying hello. I got the impression that he did not particularly care for me; when in the group he often stood appearing to be quite aloof, not saying very much, and only really interacting with his friends. I was not particularly bothered by this, after all you cannot be liked by everyone; I just thought I was not his sort of person. Why would a good looking guy like him be interested in me on any level?

Well yesterday he came into the bears’ room on gaydar. I went through the polite formalities of saying hello; and then would you believe it we spent the next 5 or so hours chatting in private and on MSN. I was quite astonished really, he was really chatty and friendly. It appears that due to our terminal shyness, we both got the wrong impression of the other. He too thought I did not like him, that I was confident and aloof. Isn’t it odd how people perceive each other?

I will have to try to make an effort to be more open with people I meet for the first time. Because of my shyness I do find it difficult to talk to people especially in a group situation. Of course I suppose there are some situations when this could be an advantage, it is good to have certain individuals who think you are unapproachable. But in general I may well be missing out on some friendships.

I guess we shall see!

August 23, 2004


Well it is Monday...and I have had the weekend off blogging, and being generally busy. First things first, it is good to have my own flm back, herewith known as Bobby. I find it extremely difficult to sleep when I don't have a small furry thing next to me snoring like a baby elephant.

As I have mentioned a few blogs ago I have made a few good friends recently; not just acquaintances as is so often the case on the gay scene. Some of these friends have commented on the fact that none of them have met my Bobby. The truth of the matter is that my Bobby just does not like poofs. In the 7 years we have been together I can count the number of times we have been to a gay pub or bar on my fingers. He just does not feel comfortable among gay men; and does not like all the attitude that seems to accompany homos on the scene. And to some extent I can relate to that.

A close friend has recently experienced this attitude and general vileness in gay men for the first time. He has had to put up with a lot of different shit from various men; and I admire him for working through it, and at the end of the day I think it will make him a better person. But is it any wonder that people like my Bobby and my friend are put off by gay men.

At a London club this weekend this attitude was all too obvious. Why do gay men think that everyone should want to sleep with them? And why do they find it so difficult to accept it when some of us turn them down or indeed tell them we simply do no fancy them (which is a nice way of saying that they are ugly!)?

I am not sure if I have got my point across. Things aren't really flowing as easily today.
Hopefully things will improve again!


August 20, 2004

Coming Out (this has got to be the last bit surely!) the summer I went to visit my friend in Lancaster to explain to her what had been happening in my life over the previous 18 months or so. I was prepared for a bad reaction, and for the offer of sharing her house with her to be withdrawn. I could not have been more wrong! She was fantastic, we cried together and she said she believed that the move would be good. Moving away from all the memories, moving away from the possibility of bumping into the two faced buggery bollock pig dog man, and starting with a new life. For the first time in over a year I felt positive about my future. I moved to Lancaster a week or so after going to see my friend; of course I was anxious, but I was feeling positive. And for the first time I was living life as an "out" gay man!

I only knew the one friend in Lancaster, but she had a whole circle of friends, gay and straight. And on my first weekend in Lancaster she arranged a night out with a couple of her gay friends out on the scene in the town (such as it was!) It was such a good evening, because of the medication I was not able to drink (which was probably a good thing anyhow), but I did not have to worry about anyone finding out I was gay. It was no big deal, it was assumed by the friends that I was, and it was accepted. When the term started I threw myself into the course and into the university social life; I did not hide my sexuality from the people on my course or the tutors, though I did not scream it from the roof tops either. I joined the LGB Soc, and gradually I built up my own circle of friends. None of them were told about my problems, they did not need to know. My mood improved week by week; I was seeing the shrink once a week at first. Then he decided we could move to once a fortnight, and then once a month. It was not all plain sailing, I had bad days, but I had my housemate to talk to, and she would listen and make me see how good things were going. As my mood improved so did my confidence. I joined the LGB Soc. on trips to Blackpool and Manchester. From time to time I got attention from men, and I relished it and enjoyed a good sex life. But as soon as any of them suggested anything more I backed off.

This has got to be the last one so I am going skip a bit of time. I passed my post grad. and I accepted a job in Sutton. By this time my two years of psychiatric therapy were over, and gradually I was weaning myself off the medication. I moved to London, and frankly I became a total slut. I felt confident enough on the gay scene to play the field. I will be the first to admit that I used men, all I wanted was no strings sex. I was happy enough being me for a while, and did not need to worry about the ups and downs of a relationship on top of the stress of being in a new job. I shared a flat in Streatham with a friend from the university where I did my first degree. She and I were having a ball, partying, casual encounters quiet nights in with take-aways. It was all good. I was meeting new friends, and made some very close ones. But I kept the recent past to myself. Inevitably (ok Bungle, amazingly!) there were some men who wanted to take things further, and bit by bit I let them closer. Over 3 or 4 in London I had a few minor flings lasting no more than two or three months. But I think I was too cold, I would not open up, and things soon fizzled out.

in 1996/7 I had my second coming out! I had to tell my friends that the smooth skinny type men they were all chasing were just not my thing. Liking bigger hairier men was just not the done thing in the circle of friends I had made. But I took the plunge when I heard about a club in Earls Court called BULK. I went there and was like a kid in a sweetshop! It was great! I met lots and lots of men over a period of time. But then I met Lee, and I would say from that first evening I fell completely head over heals in love with him. And I have not looked back since, I am in love with him now as much as I ever have been. I can now finish this epic, and refer you all to my first blog and my present situation. Life is now important to me, I have so much to live for; thank the Lord that my attempts to end it all were not successful I would have missed out on so much!

And that is it...!

August 19, 2004

Coming Out Part 5 the last one (maybe)

So time passed, somehow I managed to get a 2:2 in my degree. I had performed well in my German exams and achieved a first in all the papers. However after the events which occured between the two sets of exams you will not be surprised to know that I did not do half as well in my French. I managed to scrape a third in French; which is ridiculous as it is my first bloody language. I wonder if I would be able to sue the bf, now more often known as the two faced buggery bollock pig dog man?

Because of my mental instability I deferred my place on the PGCE course that I was due to start in the following academic year. My depression worsened, it is difficult to explain how I felt. I slept maybe 3 or 4 hours a night. I spent my long days in front of the television, thinking; my thoughts were very black, I saw no way to carry on. There seemed no point. My housemate often came home from work to find me sitting in a dark room crying, and rocking. He decided he could not cope with me; he told me he could not deal with the thought of coming home one day to find me dead. I can understand exactly as he felt having been in a similar position since. After a short voluntary spell in a hospital due to second suicide attempt, I agreed to go to see a shrink. I managed to get incapacity benefit and housing benefit, and I moved into a small house in Newcastle under Lyme with another friend. She was very understanding, and listened to my tales of woe over and over again. I found it difficult to mix with people or go out at all. I spent hours on my own while my housemate was out at work. I sat in front of the tv; sometimes crying for no apparent reason. university LGB Soc. kept in touch and popped in for coffee from time to time; they were aware that I was having issues, but they did not realise how ill I was at that time. They would have been so jealous, I was so trendy, I was one of the first people in the country to be taking the "wonder drug" Prozac!

I saw the psychiatrist once a week; I looked forward to and at the same time dreaded the sessions. He touched on things I had never talked about before. There were times when I refused to talk about things, but he persisted. After every session I was a wreck. As well as all the obvious issues he uncovered other painful things that were bottled up inside me. There were underlying issues with my family, guilt for giving up my Faith, shame about my sexuality,etc etc In short I was mad as a hatter! One evening after a particularly difficult session, it was nearing Christmas and everyone else around me was going home to their families. I had nowhere to go, but more to the point I was going to be alone in the house for a couple of weeks. I think this was the turning point; after the session I went home and continued crying, I had noone who loved me, nowhere to go . This was my third and final suicide attempt. Having done the deed again, and once again calling the Samaritans, the voice made me realise I did not really want to die. I called an ambulance and went to hospital. I asked for my psychiatrist, and within an hour he was there. That evening I opened up more than I had ever done before, and for the first time I said I wanted to get better.

I believe it was that change in attitude that helped me. It was not easy, but after Christmas I made a conscious effort to go out with my friends. I got more and more used to being amongst gay men, and it felt good. I craved company, and I craved contact. I had a lot of casual sex; there were two guys who wanted more, but that scared me. At that point in time I did not feel that I could ever let anyone get close to me again. Someone close can hurt you and I was not going to let that happen again...ever. I carried on making progress...I kept on talking to the shrink; and I actually felt better. As the summer came I started to worry about leaving Stoke to go to do my PGCE course. I did not want to leave the support network that was around me, and I was unsure of meeting new people. The shrink promised me that he would not leave me to fend for myself. Incredibly he said he would travel to Lancaster once a week to come and see me. I had applied for and accepted a place on the course in Lancaster because one of my good friends from school was studying there, and had bought a house. It was not unusual for us to lose contact from time to time, but she knew nothing about what had been going on. She knew nothing about me being gay, nor did she know about my breakdown. I decided she needed to know before I moved.

Ok looks like there is gonna have to be a part six! The staff are here now to clean so I am gonna disappear!


August 18, 2004

Coming Out Part 4

After the worst discovery of my life, the days that followed are a bit of a blur. I spent a lot of time on my own, or with one or two close friends, sobbing. All thoughts of revision went out of the window, as far as I was concerned at that time my life was over. My family did not want to know me, and I had had the ultimate rejection from the man I was in love with, what did I have to live for? I plummeted into a deep depression. I spent a lot of time in bed, though I was barely sleeping. I began drinking a lot and getting drunk. I continued sobbing. The now ex-bf tried to talk to me from time to time. But I just screamed at him, and told him to leave me alone. though I don't think the language was quite that polite. If I saw him again before I died it would be too soon.

Thankfully my friends persuaded me to sit my final French exams, and to talk to one of my tutors to explain what happened. Talking to the tutor was the first time I had actually had to say to someone I was not close to that I was gay; but now that was the least of my problems; he was very understanding, and he would talk to the right people to have the events taken into account when marking my exams. He also suggested that I go to speak to one of the university counsellors. Two days before the first of the French exams, still in a complete daze, I had an appointment with the counsellor. He was very nice, he mainly sat and listened to me ranting and sobbing. Occasionally he asked poignant questions which got me going onto another path. I remember the session being painful, but it was good to talk about everything.

I sat the exams, the memory of it is very vague, and the end of term was getting closer. Where was I going to go? My depression deepened; all I did was stayed in bed, or in front of the telly. I barely ate anything but chocolate, and I continued drinking. After a couple more sessions with the counsellor I think he realised that he was getting into deep water with me and he suggested I go to see my GP. For some reason I found that to be a real problem. Speaking to someone at the university about things was one thing, but admitting to a doctor that I needed help was another entirely. So I did not go, and I did not go to see the counsellor any more. I spent more time on my own, and more and more frequently my thoughts turned to ending it all. I could see no future for myself. One evening, crying in front of the tv I had had enough. My decision seemed to be easy, I got some vodka, and some paracetemol. Having taken the pills ( I know now it was probably not enough to kill me), I wanted to talk to someone, and I called the Samaritans and told the voice on the phone what I had done. He asked why I had done it, and he asked if I really wanted to die. I said that I did not want to carry on living the way I had been; that there was no point, so it was the only solution I could see. I don't quite remember how, but he persuaded me that death was not really what I wanted, and persuaded me to call a friend. My friend arrived, and took me to the hospital. They treated the physical, and referred me to the psychiatrist!

I can't write any more of this today. It is amazing how emotional writing all this down has made me. But just in case any of you are concerned...I am a long way from depression. So no need to worry!

More tomorrow no doubt!