A Gay Bar

Wife and I met today with our therapist. He commended us on what a fabulous job we have done in preparing for the separation. It has been two weeks today that I have been out of the house. And, I'm feeling a bit guilty about feeling so good.

Yes, I am so sad and ache for my family and the difficulties they are having. Yes, there is sometimes some deep loneliness and bewilderment on my part. Basically, however, I am feeling great.

Mainly it is the incredible weight that has lifted. Out to myself. Out to my wife. Out to a very few friends. Made some new friends. Now, out of the house. On my own. The nearly constant anxiety surrounding the waiting (and indeed, surrounding the relationship) has begun to be sloughed off or washed away.

OK, I've been to a gay bar in our local small city. (All right, it's Asheville). And, I had a great time. I don't feel some sense of desperation to pick somebody up (indeed, did not want to, didn't try). But just being around a bunch of gay men, getting some hugs, having some beers. Of course I was a bit shy and hung back. But I can be a really bold one, sometimes.

There was one exceptionally handsome bear that I kept staring at. he stared back, a bit. So, as he waited at the bar, I went up to him and said, "Look, I don't mean to stare, but I'm just out of the closet and can count on one hand the times I've been to a gay bar. And, you are so good to look at, I just couldn't help myself. I'm just enjoying."

We exchanged names and talked. That was all. That was really all I wanted. I guess it could have been a good pickup line (or a really bad one), I'm clueless. But it was the truth.

My sex-addict compulsions seem to have lessened tremendously. I don't want to take any chances. I am beginning to feel so much more comfortable with myself.

"To be born again is not to become someone else; it is to become fully yourself."

Still standing

Hello, all.

I am out of the house, but not exactly out of the closet.

This past weekends was one of the most painful I have ever had to endure. Much anger, much sadness.

My wife and kids are sad and angry. Very angry with me. That's appropriate, too. The graceful thing is they love me to where they will tell me their anger. And, we know we love one another such that we will work through it.

Love and prayers from all have helped. I look forward with joy to real hugs one day.

Shalom. Joe.

High Anxiety

This is a tough week for me. We are going to tell our children this weekend that "dad is moving out." This is really scary. I don’t know how my children will react. Oh, I know they’ll get over it eventually. Maybe they’ll come to see how it’s "for the best." Still, it is an intense situation that ups the anxiety level.

There are a couple of friends I might get together with, but I know I’m just wanting to act out. I really want to medicate the feelings. Addiction lives!

Sunday or Monday, I move out of the house where my wife and children live. I'll be "on my own." That has some great appeal to it, but I'm scared as hell. There will be some relief, some more time on my own without feeling like I'm "being watched." But what will I do with all this freedom? Will it just become an occasion to act out, to behave like the addict I am, to engage in all sorts of activities that will only bring me down further?

I've got a lot of confusion about what comes next, too. I work for a religious non-profit. The Big Boss tells me I need to make sure I am "continuing to be a wholesome example" while I am separated. If my gayness gets out, I could be in a heap of trouble. I could lose my job. So what do I do? Just ignore it? Do I have to concern myself with even "being seen" with some one or ones?

The fear of being outed is greater now. In the past, I could have probably gotten away with denying anything. I'm a good enough liar that if accused of something, I could turn it around and blame the accuser. I'm a fine, upstanding man of integrity, right?

Well, that is exactly what I want to be, what I desire deeply. So, if accused now, I would admit it. I am gay. No denying it now. But that confession could end it all, bring me and my whole family down.

The "acting out", the misbehaving, the descent into addiction, I see how that it dangerous and potentially "fatal." But must I keep my distance from anyone gay? from any gay support group or activity? Is it just from sexual activity that I must refrain? Or is any "sighting" or association with gaydom a potential risk for me? God, it is all so unfair. This too, is injustice. But I knew the job wouldn't be easy.

Coming out takes longer than I hoped. I've waited this long. God, help me surrender my impatience.

Metaphors and Thresholds

Before I was born, my mother had some kind of "brain episode" which left her paralyzed on her left side for a period of several weeks. The diagnostic tools of the mid-fifties could not determine the cause, but she made a full recovery. A result of this episode was weakness in the muscles on her left side. So at my birth, I got stuck. The obstetrician had to reach in, hook his fingers under my arms and pull me out.

This story about my birth has been a metaphor for me. But I've always seen it as a negative one: When I get stuck in a tight spot, I'm always waiting for someone else to pull me out. Making big changes is too difficult for me. The change has to come from outside, pulling me along.

But now my thinking has changed. Call it a revelation, or an epiphany. Crossing thresholds is always difficult and always involves many folk. It is a community activity, of a sort. I have to push, but it is not about my efforts alone. Others must push and pull to get the job done.

We think we know everything about the universe. Before birth, it is all warm and watery and dark. Sounds are muffled. But then the space gets very tight, then tighter still. Our world, as we have known it, ends. We are squeezed into a very tight place, all the water goes away. Suddenly it becomes very cold and noisy and bright. We must start breathing, crying, moving. New sensations. A wild new world, completely different and scary.

Birthing is like that. We come to know all about this new universe, and then things get very tight. Things change again. And again. And again.

Still, with the crossing of every new threshold, it takes the help of others to bring us through.

Tension

Tension at home is beginning to grow thicker as we move towards the date at the end of the month for telling the children and my moving out. Am I ready for this? Well, I think most of the "plans" are in place. My wife is getting more and more anxious. When she gets anxious it comes out as anger and increased desire for control. Have I done this? or that? and don't we have to think about the other thing, too?

I'm not a great one for planning ahead but know that it is very wise to do so. But can everything be planned and scripted? I think not. Still, it may be best to try, to ease her mind and to help me not open my only only for exchanging my feet (and I have very big feet).

I am most afraid of leaving only to descend into my addiction: sex. Sure, we all want it, but when it becomes something that begins controlling your every waking moment, it's addiction, and it kills.

I can't squeeze work in between fantasies and pornography. I can't work out time with my children amongst hooking up with guys. I can't exist with this addiction to lust constantly trying to take over my brain. It kills.

This is my greatest fear. That I never really get a life, or learn about true intimacy. Sorry for the whiny post, but that's where I am this minute. Feels like I'm running from myself. Running from intimacy. Running.

Serenity to accept, courage to change, wisdom to know. Please.

A good wife.

This transition, leaving, changing stuff is hard under any circumstances. Sometimes I think it would be easier if my wife and I hated one another. But we don't. I need to sing her praises some.

She has been very, very angry at times, and with good cause. But she has never been vindictive or out to get me. She has some strong control needs (shall we say), but she has never tried to stop me. She has always wanted me to be a part of arrangements for separation, etc. By many standards, one might expect her not to want to speak to me or see me or do anything with me. But she has not pushed me away. At least, not much. She has been the soul of discretion, understanding, and patient. She is a good woman.

She knows that I love her and am not doing this because of "her". Truly, she is loving me enough to let me go. She wants me to be happy. And I certainly want that for her.

How are my feelings for her different now? I'm not sure how to answer that. I still love her, in much the way I think I always have. That seem a little sick to me. Have I never loved her "enough" or "the right way?" What do I know about relationships? Much of my life has been spent avoiding them, I think. I've always run from them. Always I've kept myself in check, never getting too close..... to any one!

Ugh. I've started talking about me, again. Whatever the limitations of my understanding of love, whatever shortcomings I have in regards to relationships, I know it may be no more than seeing through a mirror, dimly. But I love her and am so grateful for her love for me, loving enough to let go.

Promised Land - Land of Promise

Thanks to those who commented on my last post. Many helpful and supportive things were said, and I am very grateful. This weird electronic world is something that has kept me going. I don't feel so alone. Posts and emails and even calls are wonderful but can't fully substitute for actual person to person, face to face contact. A good, long bear hug would be sooooo nice. Just some cuddling. One of these days, soon.


Aside from too dry, the weather here is absolutely wonderful. Not too hot, not too humid. I got out for a walk this week, which was sorely needed. Getting out in the woods and playing in a creek are things that soothe my soul.

In our part of the Appalachian mountain chain, one of the taller peaks is Mt. Pisgah, at almost 6,000 ft. I know that's not tall by Western standards, but for us it certainly stands out. The name comes from the Biblical mountain from which Moses saw the promised land. Many other mountains and hills bear the name, along with many congregations. It is a name that signifies moving into a place of promise. Moses, however, did not cross over into the Promised Land. That was left for Joshua.


Since I can see Mt. Pisgah, I reckon that I must be in the Promised Land. Though it the journey is difficult at times, I look to the Promise. As you've heard it said, God did not promise to make it a painless journey; God's promise is that we will never have to be alone. God is with us.


With that in mind (and heart), I am looking forward to feeling more and more in the land of Promise, the life of Promise. Thomas Merton said something like this: "To be born again does not mean becoming some one else; it means becoming yourself."


My search for self is a becoming. Many of you have graciously helped me remember that. Thanks.

(That really is a picture of our Mt. Pisgah. My 50th birthday present was a ballon ride! So, I even snapped this picture my self.)

Quo vadis?

My time off just hasn't worked at all. Every place I tried to go for retreating was unavailable for one reason or another. Bummer. And so, the weekend was real downer. I did pull a muscle in my back and took some muscle relaxers. That, combined with depression, caused me to sleep most of the weekend. Today is better.

My moods seem really up and down. The antidepressant isn't working so well? or is there more going on? Who knows? At least today is a good day, in most ways.

Planning for the separation is so sad and depressing in and of itself, let alone the unknown of what comes next. Today was spent in not-so-useful activities that lead me to wonder more and more who I want to be, or maybe, who I am.

All these years I have tried to be straight, there was no conscious effort "not to be gay." I thought I wasn't really gay, and I have gone along being (what I have presumed is) me. I am aware of some urges (sex with men), and behaviors (too much leering) that I felt I should not be engaging in. But I don't think I've tried to put on a more "masculine" front than I already have (assuming I have one).

I know all the sexual fantasies and porn stories, etc. are about fantasy. Though in a heated moment I may imagine myself in the midst of such (as the short strokes take hold), I don't actually want to be like that. Do I?

I'll never have the six-pack abs (we must settle for a keg). I'll never be a Jack Radcliffe or such. But whom will I be? Who am I now?

I want to sit and think about this one a while. Suggestions or ways you have worked through this are welcome.

Hope to be back soon with The Answer to it all. Then, I'll go on Oprah and hawk my book.

Time off

I'm taking a few days off and hoping to spend some of it on retreat. The praying kind. Some time to read, maybe write, pray, sleep. Whatever. Of course, it's the "whatever" that both worries me and excites me.

The weather here in the moutains is so wonderful, I can't imagine living anywhere else. The prospect of that is more than a little disconcerting, yet I know that I well may have to re-locate because of job stuff if I want to come very far out of the closet. Oh, what a wonderful thought!

Many have written about the death of Jerry Falwell. I don't really believe in "hell" as he would have preached, so I'd better be prepared to meet him in the next life. I do believe in a merciful and just God. So, I can only hope Mr. Falwell is dwelling in paradise with lots of queer, black, hispanic, democratic, liberal, left wing saints and angels. I'll bet he will be surprized!

Addendum: I've read that Falwell had already planned for a transition of power in his "empire:" to his sons. Now that fits with "American values," eh? What a sad, controlling gesture.

Up or Down ?

The pain of others at the expense of "what I want" is about the hardest thing for me to bear. In a few weeks we will tell our children that Daddy is moving out. And then it happens. No words about why dad is moving out, not just yet. But in time. It is all becoming very real and very close to happening. My feelings are so very mixed up that I've felt paralyzed at times. Just making day-to-day decisions seems impossible. But, we soldier on.

My head acknowledges that I have a right to "what I want," and that this is not about some whim of desire but something at the core of my being. When you've been a co-dependent caretaker as long as I have, it's hard to make a switch and admit my needs.

For some bizarre, guilt-ridden reason, I don't like to admit it there is an up side to my moving out: greater freedom for me. Freedom to do what? That is the question for me.

God, I hope I am doing the right thing.

Because of my job, I still must remain largely in the closet. Though I might have the chance to build some (discreet) friendships, I must be very circumspect. To be outed would be disastrous

And in other news . . . .
My PA piercing is healing quite well. I have to say I'm enjoying it. Just knowing it's there is a boost, a reminder that I am (in process, at least, of) coming out. Now I'm anxious to gauge up a bit, but I want to make sure there has been plenty of healing. Right now, I've got a captive bead ring in. I want to get a circular barbell and maybe a bent barbell, too. Any ideas?

In the midst of a lot of sadness, there is still much for which to be grateful. If only I could remember that. . . . . .