It has been a while since I've written... I know that I start every post with a similar phrase if not the same. Oh well, it gives my blog a sense of uniformity I guess. In any case, I haven't really had anything to write about. I go to school and I go to work. I make money, then I spend money I should be saving up for my trip to Rome, Italy. People ask me what's new with me and I really don't have an answer for them. The events of my life have been undulating from minor highs to lows. My love life has been non-existent and I am satisfied with that. Nothing in my life has really stood out in the past few months.
This morning, my mother told me that my (maternal) grandmother had a mini-stroke. It made me realize that life is always moving. Things break down, fall apart, and sometimes they can't be perfectly mended. It made me realize that if anything did ever happen to my grandmother... if she were to die, my family would push a generation forward. My parents would then be at the forefront of life, the ones that would be face to face with mortality. And once they are gone, it would be me, my sisters and I, who would be leading our family towards an uncertain future.
My reaction to my mother's news reminds me of Camus's Meursault who started the novel L'Etranger by saying, "Aujourd'hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas." There's a sense of apathy or perhaps an inability to the sensitivity of the matter. I cry when I see tragedies in movies and I become anxious when I hear of misfortunes happening to others distant from me, yet when things happen to me (e.g., illness or death of someone close to me), I feel numb. I feel no reason to cry, to worry, or to even feel sorrow. This is the woman who raised me from early infancy to the age of five while my mother worked abroad. She was basically my surrogate mother since birth to the age of five. I remember her taking me to the fish markets during the weekends. I remember the mornings when we would sit on her veranda in the countryside and watch the sunrise. She loved me unconditionally and gave me unconditional positive regard... perhaps even more so than my own mother. However, I am more focused on asking myself questions than actually feeling vulnerable. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism of mine to not suppress emotion, but to completely rid myself of it.
Perhaps, in truth, I have no sympathy for anyone but myself.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Finding my Center... All Over Again
It's been a while since my last legitimate post. After my last blog entry (not including the second part of my story about Dylan), which was about Brandon, I felt like I needed some time away. Writing these blog entries mandates me to put my emotions and thoughts to the forefront of my consciousness. Writing prohibits me from suppressing the resulting affects of day to day events in my life, which can be too much to handle at times. . I thought about writing each and every day since my last entry last March, but I felt like I still needed time to just let my mind rest. For the past few weeks, I've felt like I was overstimulated by everything around me: the end of a friendship/relationship, financial pressures, academic deadlines, etc. I just needed time to let things be without having to dwell on them or analyze them, which is what writing inclines me to do. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but it was too much for me to handle.
In any case, here's an update on my life...
Brandon
Brandon (a.k.a B) is out of my life for good. A day or so after my last entry in early March, I had to finally stand up for myself. I was being pushed around by his uncertainty and fickleness. One day he would tell me he loved me, then the next day he would try to change the subject when I would bring up the topic. When he tried to communicate with me after a three-week silence, which he imposed (blocking me from any way of contacting him), he told me that he wanted me to forgive him and that he still loved me. The next day, when I told him that I still had feelings for him, he couldn't/wouldn't respond; I knew that something was wrong at that point. He then retracted what he said the previous night and showed no remorse for it. The next few days, I still felt like I was chasing after him just to have him pay attention to me. It was a ridiculous situation since it was he that begged for my forgiveness a few days earlier.
I knew that things would never progress between us, so I let out all my frustrations. I told him that he was fickle and didn't know what he wanted. That he had no reason to tell his friends and his mother that I broke his heart by not accepting his professed feelings for me (i.e. he told me he loved me) a mere two weeks of knowing one another. Whether it was his intention or not, he defamed me to his friends even though at the end of the day, I made the right choice. He had no right to say anything about me, whatsoever, since I was right from the very beginning: he did not know what he wanted. To his friends, he portrayed himself as someone who wanted true love and as if it was me who deprived him of such an opportunity. However, when I was finally willing to give him my heart, it was he who stated, "I don't know what I want. I'm sorry." It was also frustrating and upsetting for him to tell me that his mother hated me because I had hurt him for not accepting his affection, which were in retrospect, apocryphal. I felt as if complete blame was unreasonably put on me, when I made the right choice to tell him the truth: I did not have feelings for him when he told me he loved me after only knowing me for two weeks. Yes, my feelings for him did develop after that point, yet he still couldn't let go of his past resentment for me.
In the end, he continued to firmly hold onto his beliefs. He continued to believe that he was in the right and that I was the enemy. He rejected any form of reason other than his own. He felt hurt, therefore whoever hurt him was universally bad. On the other hand, any transgressions of his own were to be left unacknowledged or completely denied. Total bullshit. That's when I knew he was delusional and psychologically maladaptive. It bothers me that he will continue to say bad things about me to his friends and they will actually believe him, and they're actually not bad people... However, if they would unconditionally believe what he says without personally getting to know me, then that's bad on their part.
Academic
Since my last blog entry, I actually dropped my Italian minor and took on a second major. I think that having two major degrees is better than having one major and one minor degree. Also, the latter option would have required me to take summer classes to finish on time (i.e. graduate with the class of 2013), whereas the former can be completed on time without having to take summer classes. So now, I am a Psychology and Advertisement/PR double major. I decided that I could pursue foreign language studies independently. Nonetheless, I have enjoyed the Italian class I am currently in and my peers have acknowledged my abilities (as they've often come to me for help)... I guess being raised bilingual, then taking French for seven years helps. Hah! I guess you can say that I'm working on being quadrilingual?
I am also glad to say that I've been accepted into my school's study abroad program in Rome, Italy, which will allow me to study at my university's own Rome campus. I'll be studying there from January 2012 up til May 2012. My mother is also excited and is surprisingly more supportive than I thought she would be. I actually thought she'd be against the idea since I would be more than the ~10 mile distance I currently am from her and the rest of my family (try thousands). With my family's support, it has made me more excited about studying abroad and it makes this prospective experience seem more of a reality to me.
Family
My family has been surprisingly more supportive than I would have ever expected. My previous conversations with my mother have been quite relaxed. At one point, she caught me off guard when she mentioned me possibly finding an Italian lover and getting excited about. I would have never expected her to initiate such a topic or mention something so... explicitly gay? Hah! I must say though, it's a relief to hear that my mother has completely accepted me for who and what I am. Of course, it will take some time to completely open up to her; it'll take some time to unravel a decade's effort of trying to hide facet(s) of my identity.
Recently, I've also felt a personal desire to spend more time with my family. Along with feeling that I can show them more of my "true" self, I no longer feel like I have to keep my distance. Also, I've realized that my baby sister is growing up and I want to be there for her. This point in her life is quite vital in her personal development and as her older sibling I do have the personal desire to help guide her. I know that it kind of sounds sappy and it's a sentiment that I would have never expected to come from me, but it's true. Perhaps I'm growing as a person and caring for those other than myself? That's a good thing, right? Doesn't that fit into one of Erikson's psychodevelopmental stages?
Work
At the end of March, I got hired as a retail associate at a clothing store. I was very excited considering that I finally got a job in fashion retail and will (hopefully) no longer work in the food industry. Of course, on my first day, I already felt like quitting. I was afraid that my new coworkers would already have high expectations of me and consider me a failure for not knowing what to do. I feared that even if I would explain to them that it was my first retail job, they'd still consider me incompetent and a bother. Luckily, before coming in to work, I went to get some coffee with Dylan, who eased my first day jitters on the job.
Fortunately, my expectations for my first day were completely wrong. Everyone was very friendly and went out of their way to introduce themselves to me. Whenever an associate was close by, he/she would come up to me and ask if I was doing all right and if I had any questions. It was overwhelming to try and take in everything while also trying to provide assistance to customers (i.e. doing my job), but I couldn't have asked for a better first day.
I've been working at the clothing store for 3-4 weeks now. I'm still trying to take things in, but for the most part, I feel myself more at ease. Of course, I do find myself feeling mentally and physically exhausted at the end of the day for pay that really isn't up to par with the work being done. Also, with any job in fashion retail, I've found myself crossing paths with coworkers that believe themselves to be superior, therefore they don't feel it necessary to make eye contact when I speak to them. It's funny because I'm doing the same job as them, at the same place, and probably for similar pay. The customers can be assholes too, but what can you expect? Many of them never worked a minimum wage job, therefore they probably don't even see associates as people. Nonetheless, I tell myself that whatever I'm not receiving in monetary gain, I'm attaining through work experience. My current job is a mere stepping stone for what I want to go into as a career. God forbid, I wouldn't want to be a sales associate working minimum wage after the age of 25.
What do I want to for a career exactly? Well, the dream would be to find a starting position in an advertisement/PR firm or something relating to fashion, advertisement, and travel. Perhaps I can use my multilingual abilities to good use. No matter what though, I don't want to be working in minimum wage sales, whether it be in the food or fashion retail industry, five years from now.
Love
At the present moment, I am single. I'm all right with being single. I actually prefer to be single for the time being. My thought is that since I'm leaving for Rome in about 7 months, it would be unwise to seek/start a relationship. When I leave for Rome, I want self discovery to be the center of my trip/adventure. Sure, a relationship wouldn't necessarily hinder me from achieving that goal. However, realistically, starting a relationship then turning it into a long-distance relationship within the first year would be detrimental. I'd rather wait, but who knows? If I do find a potential lover and we hit it off this summer, it's something I'll definitely allow to run its course, but I wouldn't seek it out. Love is something you should never prevent or intentionally seek out. If it happens, it happens.
Currently, I do have my eyes set on a guy. He's sweet, intelligent, cute, and has a good head on his shoulders. I'll keep specific details under wraps for now, but if my interest in him does develop further and it becomes a mutual interest, then I'll let you all know.
Overall
My life is moving forward at a tolerable and satisfactory pace. Things are going the way they should. Although, I know that I can and should put more effort towards my academic endeavors, which I will. At this point, the best I can do is enjoy life and live it.
In any case, here's an update on my life...
Brandon
Brandon (a.k.a B) is out of my life for good. A day or so after my last entry in early March, I had to finally stand up for myself. I was being pushed around by his uncertainty and fickleness. One day he would tell me he loved me, then the next day he would try to change the subject when I would bring up the topic. When he tried to communicate with me after a three-week silence, which he imposed (blocking me from any way of contacting him), he told me that he wanted me to forgive him and that he still loved me. The next day, when I told him that I still had feelings for him, he couldn't/wouldn't respond; I knew that something was wrong at that point. He then retracted what he said the previous night and showed no remorse for it. The next few days, I still felt like I was chasing after him just to have him pay attention to me. It was a ridiculous situation since it was he that begged for my forgiveness a few days earlier.
I knew that things would never progress between us, so I let out all my frustrations. I told him that he was fickle and didn't know what he wanted. That he had no reason to tell his friends and his mother that I broke his heart by not accepting his professed feelings for me (i.e. he told me he loved me) a mere two weeks of knowing one another. Whether it was his intention or not, he defamed me to his friends even though at the end of the day, I made the right choice. He had no right to say anything about me, whatsoever, since I was right from the very beginning: he did not know what he wanted. To his friends, he portrayed himself as someone who wanted true love and as if it was me who deprived him of such an opportunity. However, when I was finally willing to give him my heart, it was he who stated, "I don't know what I want. I'm sorry." It was also frustrating and upsetting for him to tell me that his mother hated me because I had hurt him for not accepting his affection, which were in retrospect, apocryphal. I felt as if complete blame was unreasonably put on me, when I made the right choice to tell him the truth: I did not have feelings for him when he told me he loved me after only knowing me for two weeks. Yes, my feelings for him did develop after that point, yet he still couldn't let go of his past resentment for me.
In the end, he continued to firmly hold onto his beliefs. He continued to believe that he was in the right and that I was the enemy. He rejected any form of reason other than his own. He felt hurt, therefore whoever hurt him was universally bad. On the other hand, any transgressions of his own were to be left unacknowledged or completely denied. Total bullshit. That's when I knew he was delusional and psychologically maladaptive. It bothers me that he will continue to say bad things about me to his friends and they will actually believe him, and they're actually not bad people... However, if they would unconditionally believe what he says without personally getting to know me, then that's bad on their part.
Academic
Since my last blog entry, I actually dropped my Italian minor and took on a second major. I think that having two major degrees is better than having one major and one minor degree. Also, the latter option would have required me to take summer classes to finish on time (i.e. graduate with the class of 2013), whereas the former can be completed on time without having to take summer classes. So now, I am a Psychology and Advertisement/PR double major. I decided that I could pursue foreign language studies independently. Nonetheless, I have enjoyed the Italian class I am currently in and my peers have acknowledged my abilities (as they've often come to me for help)... I guess being raised bilingual, then taking French for seven years helps. Hah! I guess you can say that I'm working on being quadrilingual?
I am also glad to say that I've been accepted into my school's study abroad program in Rome, Italy, which will allow me to study at my university's own Rome campus. I'll be studying there from January 2012 up til May 2012. My mother is also excited and is surprisingly more supportive than I thought she would be. I actually thought she'd be against the idea since I would be more than the ~10 mile distance I currently am from her and the rest of my family (try thousands). With my family's support, it has made me more excited about studying abroad and it makes this prospective experience seem more of a reality to me.
Family
My family has been surprisingly more supportive than I would have ever expected. My previous conversations with my mother have been quite relaxed. At one point, she caught me off guard when she mentioned me possibly finding an Italian lover and getting excited about. I would have never expected her to initiate such a topic or mention something so... explicitly gay? Hah! I must say though, it's a relief to hear that my mother has completely accepted me for who and what I am. Of course, it will take some time to completely open up to her; it'll take some time to unravel a decade's effort of trying to hide facet(s) of my identity.
Recently, I've also felt a personal desire to spend more time with my family. Along with feeling that I can show them more of my "true" self, I no longer feel like I have to keep my distance. Also, I've realized that my baby sister is growing up and I want to be there for her. This point in her life is quite vital in her personal development and as her older sibling I do have the personal desire to help guide her. I know that it kind of sounds sappy and it's a sentiment that I would have never expected to come from me, but it's true. Perhaps I'm growing as a person and caring for those other than myself? That's a good thing, right? Doesn't that fit into one of Erikson's psychodevelopmental stages?
Work
At the end of March, I got hired as a retail associate at a clothing store. I was very excited considering that I finally got a job in fashion retail and will (hopefully) no longer work in the food industry. Of course, on my first day, I already felt like quitting. I was afraid that my new coworkers would already have high expectations of me and consider me a failure for not knowing what to do. I feared that even if I would explain to them that it was my first retail job, they'd still consider me incompetent and a bother. Luckily, before coming in to work, I went to get some coffee with Dylan, who eased my first day jitters on the job.
Fortunately, my expectations for my first day were completely wrong. Everyone was very friendly and went out of their way to introduce themselves to me. Whenever an associate was close by, he/she would come up to me and ask if I was doing all right and if I had any questions. It was overwhelming to try and take in everything while also trying to provide assistance to customers (i.e. doing my job), but I couldn't have asked for a better first day.
I've been working at the clothing store for 3-4 weeks now. I'm still trying to take things in, but for the most part, I feel myself more at ease. Of course, I do find myself feeling mentally and physically exhausted at the end of the day for pay that really isn't up to par with the work being done. Also, with any job in fashion retail, I've found myself crossing paths with coworkers that believe themselves to be superior, therefore they don't feel it necessary to make eye contact when I speak to them. It's funny because I'm doing the same job as them, at the same place, and probably for similar pay. The customers can be assholes too, but what can you expect? Many of them never worked a minimum wage job, therefore they probably don't even see associates as people. Nonetheless, I tell myself that whatever I'm not receiving in monetary gain, I'm attaining through work experience. My current job is a mere stepping stone for what I want to go into as a career. God forbid, I wouldn't want to be a sales associate working minimum wage after the age of 25.
What do I want to for a career exactly? Well, the dream would be to find a starting position in an advertisement/PR firm or something relating to fashion, advertisement, and travel. Perhaps I can use my multilingual abilities to good use. No matter what though, I don't want to be working in minimum wage sales, whether it be in the food or fashion retail industry, five years from now.
Love
At the present moment, I am single. I'm all right with being single. I actually prefer to be single for the time being. My thought is that since I'm leaving for Rome in about 7 months, it would be unwise to seek/start a relationship. When I leave for Rome, I want self discovery to be the center of my trip/adventure. Sure, a relationship wouldn't necessarily hinder me from achieving that goal. However, realistically, starting a relationship then turning it into a long-distance relationship within the first year would be detrimental. I'd rather wait, but who knows? If I do find a potential lover and we hit it off this summer, it's something I'll definitely allow to run its course, but I wouldn't seek it out. Love is something you should never prevent or intentionally seek out. If it happens, it happens.
Currently, I do have my eyes set on a guy. He's sweet, intelligent, cute, and has a good head on his shoulders. I'll keep specific details under wraps for now, but if my interest in him does develop further and it becomes a mutual interest, then I'll let you all know.
Overall
My life is moving forward at a tolerable and satisfactory pace. Things are going the way they should. Although, I know that I can and should put more effort towards my academic endeavors, which I will. At this point, the best I can do is enjoy life and live it.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Familial Homophobia
Earlier tonight I was watching Glee with my eight year old sister. At some point, a scene came on where Kurt (the gay guy) was interacting with Finn (the sensitive jock). After seeing Kurt make a few comments to Finn, she randomly commented, "Eww, did you know he's gay (referring to Kurt)? He moves like a girl." I simply gave her an affirmative response, which she responded to by asking, "Are you gay?" Again, I gave her a simple answer, "Yes." Her response should have been obvious to me, but for some reason I was taken aback when she responded with, "Ew." The most salient thoughts I had in mind at that point was, "Oh God, is she going to tell my parents that I told her I was gay? Where is this going to lead? Did she seriously respond in revulsion to me being gay?"
Sure, children around the age of my sister are repulsed by the very idea of attraction between two people, but this was different. My sister's reaction was not a response to the idea of two people being attracted to one another and contracting cooties, but to the particular concept of two men having mutual interest in each other. How can a child react with such disapproval and/or disgust? As the concepts of dichotomous systems of sex and gender are social constructs, I can confidently say that her response was not an inherent reaction, but something socially learned. Who could she have learned such a response from?
One person came to mind as to who my little could have learned modeled her response from: our father. Throughout my childhood, and even to this day, my father refers to people (whether they be acquaintances or strangers) that seem effeminate or who are confirmed homosexuals as "bakla." In my native language, "bakla" means gay or homosexual, but it holds a more negative connotation in comparison to the English word "gay" or "homosexual." Frankly, there is no word in our native language that objectively means to be individuals (specifically men) that are attracted to the same sex/gender. Bakla doesn't just hold this definition, but is also followed by the implication of weakness, femininity, and perhaps even sexual deviance.
My parents have never directly expressed to my little sister their disapproval of homosexuality, but nonetheless, I know that my sister has picked up on their attitudes towards homosexuals. Children are easily influenced by the social microsystem they inhabit; as they perceive how those closest to them react to certain individuals and situations, they interpret those reactionary behaviors as relative social norms or even as the "correct" response.
It's interesting and disappointing at the same time as my family knows (whether we speak of it or not) that I am gay. Even with this in mind, my parents' homophobic attitude has not changed even when confronted by their son's homosexual identity. I am gay, but to them I am not a part of such a group identity, but an exception. They accept me as their son, but they do not accept a facet of my identity that has a salient presence in my life. Therefore, conceptually, for them, gay people are still repulsive and I am just an exception to such a judgment.
From time to time I hear would my father exclaim how a person on the television is "bakla," expressing a negative opinion of the person through the word's negative implications rather than the latter's alleged sexuality. It hurts to hear him make these statements even though he's talking about me. It hurts because in a sense he is indirectly expressing an opinion of me. If a gay person that is not me is as repulsive as he claims or acts towards them, then without the condition of being his son, does he not hold the same opinion of me? For I am also gay?
I truly do believe that it is too late to change and/or improve my father's opinion of homosexuality. He is a bigot, a sexist, and a racist, traits he is not ashamed to display. I just hope that it is not too late for my sister; I am her older brother and it would be heartbreaking if my little sister came to hold the same opinions as my father, considering that I basically raised her from when she was an infant.
Sure, children around the age of my sister are repulsed by the very idea of attraction between two people, but this was different. My sister's reaction was not a response to the idea of two people being attracted to one another and contracting cooties, but to the particular concept of two men having mutual interest in each other. How can a child react with such disapproval and/or disgust? As the concepts of dichotomous systems of sex and gender are social constructs, I can confidently say that her response was not an inherent reaction, but something socially learned. Who could she have learned such a response from?
One person came to mind as to who my little could have learned modeled her response from: our father. Throughout my childhood, and even to this day, my father refers to people (whether they be acquaintances or strangers) that seem effeminate or who are confirmed homosexuals as "bakla." In my native language, "bakla" means gay or homosexual, but it holds a more negative connotation in comparison to the English word "gay" or "homosexual." Frankly, there is no word in our native language that objectively means to be individuals (specifically men) that are attracted to the same sex/gender. Bakla doesn't just hold this definition, but is also followed by the implication of weakness, femininity, and perhaps even sexual deviance.
My parents have never directly expressed to my little sister their disapproval of homosexuality, but nonetheless, I know that my sister has picked up on their attitudes towards homosexuals. Children are easily influenced by the social microsystem they inhabit; as they perceive how those closest to them react to certain individuals and situations, they interpret those reactionary behaviors as relative social norms or even as the "correct" response.
It's interesting and disappointing at the same time as my family knows (whether we speak of it or not) that I am gay. Even with this in mind, my parents' homophobic attitude has not changed even when confronted by their son's homosexual identity. I am gay, but to them I am not a part of such a group identity, but an exception. They accept me as their son, but they do not accept a facet of my identity that has a salient presence in my life. Therefore, conceptually, for them, gay people are still repulsive and I am just an exception to such a judgment.
From time to time I hear would my father exclaim how a person on the television is "bakla," expressing a negative opinion of the person through the word's negative implications rather than the latter's alleged sexuality. It hurts to hear him make these statements even though he's talking about me. It hurts because in a sense he is indirectly expressing an opinion of me. If a gay person that is not me is as repulsive as he claims or acts towards them, then without the condition of being his son, does he not hold the same opinion of me? For I am also gay?
I truly do believe that it is too late to change and/or improve my father's opinion of homosexuality. He is a bigot, a sexist, and a racist, traits he is not ashamed to display. I just hope that it is not too late for my sister; I am her older brother and it would be heartbreaking if my little sister came to hold the same opinions as my father, considering that I basically raised her from when she was an infant.
Friday, December 10, 2010
A Vivid Dream
I was sleeping a few moments ago and I had this dream. It was a very vivid dream and I felt every emotion that was being felt by the protagonist in my dream, so I think it's worth writing about before I completely forget my dream (which often occurs when I wake up).
So in this dream, I was in a house with some strangers being attacked by toys. For some reason, these strangers and I can't leave the house as it belonged to us, so we tried to sell it. The only prospective buyer we had decided not to buy the house and we followed her and her husband out of the house as they carried a bird cage. All of us had bird cages too, and each of us had a bird inside our cages. When the woman made up her mind about not buying the house, we opened our bird cages and poured out our birds into the woman's cage, then they left.
Afterwards, the strangers and I went back into the house. I believe we were having a party for prospective buyers, since it was messy with party and Christmas decorations. At that point, the strangers and I try to hide from the murderous toys after we realize that we'll be stuck in this house. I hid inside a closet, which took me to this big underground chamber with a bridge leading to a central pillar, with dark water under it.
There was an old man talking to one of the toys who didn't seem to be murdering people. Apparently, this toy just wanted to be a real person, not something that was magically animated, but to actually live of his/her own free will. The old man, who seems to be a scientist, asked the toy what made him/her think that he/she wasn't living. Then the conversation shifted to what the toy was drawing. The toy, which looked like a cartoonish, bipedal sea monster from the Powerpuff Girls cartoon, was drawing some sort of blueprint for some machine or building.
Suddenly, these people that looked like a futuristic police force came in and was at the entrance at the other end of the bridge. They were coming towards the toy monster and the scientist. The scientist and the toy monster tried to stop the police task force, but they couldn't, they were shot down, but not killed. I became scared and tried to hide under the bridge. The underground bridge then switches to a bridge in a futuristic, dark, cold city; same bridge, but different setting. I was trying to hide from the police force by hiding on the underside of the bridge platform, but after a while I got discovered; my baby sister appeared out of nowhere and told the police where I was.
When I came out of hiding, I realized that the other strangers that were in the house with me have been caught. For some reason, I had the feeling that after being taken into custody, I will be executed. The commander of the police task force told the rest that she will take a short walk with me to just discuss a few things before I would be taken into custody. During this walk, she told me that the toy monster was actually drawing some advanced technology that would produce a great amount of energy efficiently. Unfortunately, the toy monster has died and the scientist had recently died as well, so I am the last person who knows about the technology, since I was present when the toy and the scientist were discussing the schematics. While discussing all this, the woman takes me into an underground tunnel/subway system. And after a while, she tells me that I can run away and that she's giving me the chance to. I decline and decide to go with her to be taken into custody. She reacts positively and says that she was testing me.
Once we got to a busy street, I saw the rest of the police force across the street along with the strangers I owned the house with. For some reason, I had the strong, uncontrollable urge to get to them, so I try to leap across the intersection since I couldn't wait for the traffic to stop, much to the female police leader's dismay. I successfully leaped most of the way, but collided with a car a few inches before reaching the other side of the street. I didn't get hit by the car though, it seems like I was a ghost since after I converged with the car, I just turned into a wispy smoke, then solidified again when I got to the other side.
After getting to the other side, some other woman who was of a higher rank than the woman I was with tells me that I must immediately be taken to custody. I tell her that I just want to tell the other woman one last thing before I am taken away, right in front of everyone. So, I asked the woman I had taken a walk with and in front of everyone else, if they ever had a family? I asked them if they ever knew how it felt to have that strong connections, that feeling of comfort with someone else. At that point, as I was talking, I felt a deep connection to everyone else that almost pained me. After my whole speech, the high-ranking woman became convinced to have me live with the other woman as my surrogate mother/mentor. The other strangers also came to live with us.
The scene then switches to the woman having a different face, actually resembling a pregnant Michelle Pfeiffer walking down a light, rainy street. For some reason, I also changed physically and resembled Freddie Highmore. This Michelle Pfeiffer-esque woman who I identified as being my aunt got married to this very hot man that I was also attracted to, but didn't pursue.
The end.
What do you all think? Do you think my dream had some sort of underlying meaning? Interpretations are welcome and encouraged.
So in this dream, I was in a house with some strangers being attacked by toys. For some reason, these strangers and I can't leave the house as it belonged to us, so we tried to sell it. The only prospective buyer we had decided not to buy the house and we followed her and her husband out of the house as they carried a bird cage. All of us had bird cages too, and each of us had a bird inside our cages. When the woman made up her mind about not buying the house, we opened our bird cages and poured out our birds into the woman's cage, then they left.
Afterwards, the strangers and I went back into the house. I believe we were having a party for prospective buyers, since it was messy with party and Christmas decorations. At that point, the strangers and I try to hide from the murderous toys after we realize that we'll be stuck in this house. I hid inside a closet, which took me to this big underground chamber with a bridge leading to a central pillar, with dark water under it.
There was an old man talking to one of the toys who didn't seem to be murdering people. Apparently, this toy just wanted to be a real person, not something that was magically animated, but to actually live of his/her own free will. The old man, who seems to be a scientist, asked the toy what made him/her think that he/she wasn't living. Then the conversation shifted to what the toy was drawing. The toy, which looked like a cartoonish, bipedal sea monster from the Powerpuff Girls cartoon, was drawing some sort of blueprint for some machine or building.
Suddenly, these people that looked like a futuristic police force came in and was at the entrance at the other end of the bridge. They were coming towards the toy monster and the scientist. The scientist and the toy monster tried to stop the police task force, but they couldn't, they were shot down, but not killed. I became scared and tried to hide under the bridge. The underground bridge then switches to a bridge in a futuristic, dark, cold city; same bridge, but different setting. I was trying to hide from the police force by hiding on the underside of the bridge platform, but after a while I got discovered; my baby sister appeared out of nowhere and told the police where I was.
When I came out of hiding, I realized that the other strangers that were in the house with me have been caught. For some reason, I had the feeling that after being taken into custody, I will be executed. The commander of the police task force told the rest that she will take a short walk with me to just discuss a few things before I would be taken into custody. During this walk, she told me that the toy monster was actually drawing some advanced technology that would produce a great amount of energy efficiently. Unfortunately, the toy monster has died and the scientist had recently died as well, so I am the last person who knows about the technology, since I was present when the toy and the scientist were discussing the schematics. While discussing all this, the woman takes me into an underground tunnel/subway system. And after a while, she tells me that I can run away and that she's giving me the chance to. I decline and decide to go with her to be taken into custody. She reacts positively and says that she was testing me.
Once we got to a busy street, I saw the rest of the police force across the street along with the strangers I owned the house with. For some reason, I had the strong, uncontrollable urge to get to them, so I try to leap across the intersection since I couldn't wait for the traffic to stop, much to the female police leader's dismay. I successfully leaped most of the way, but collided with a car a few inches before reaching the other side of the street. I didn't get hit by the car though, it seems like I was a ghost since after I converged with the car, I just turned into a wispy smoke, then solidified again when I got to the other side.
After getting to the other side, some other woman who was of a higher rank than the woman I was with tells me that I must immediately be taken to custody. I tell her that I just want to tell the other woman one last thing before I am taken away, right in front of everyone. So, I asked the woman I had taken a walk with and in front of everyone else, if they ever had a family? I asked them if they ever knew how it felt to have that strong connections, that feeling of comfort with someone else. At that point, as I was talking, I felt a deep connection to everyone else that almost pained me. After my whole speech, the high-ranking woman became convinced to have me live with the other woman as my surrogate mother/mentor. The other strangers also came to live with us.
The scene then switches to the woman having a different face, actually resembling a pregnant Michelle Pfeiffer walking down a light, rainy street. For some reason, I also changed physically and resembled Freddie Highmore. This Michelle Pfeiffer-esque woman who I identified as being my aunt got married to this very hot man that I was also attracted to, but didn't pursue.
The end.
What do you all think? Do you think my dream had some sort of underlying meaning? Interpretations are welcome and encouraged.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
The Fall of my Father
My mother just called me to tell me that I should be a little easier on my father. She told me that my father has been prescribed anti-anxiety pills and that I should be a little more accommodating towards my father, a little more patient I guess. She told me how my father and my eldest sister had a fight. Apparently my sister yelled at him that I moved out because of him. After my mother told me this all I could really respond with was the fact that my sister was right; my primary reason for leaving was my father.
Growing up, my father was a tyrant. I do remember him being a kind but firm father during my early childhood, but it seems as if it had all changed at some point. One day I came to realize how selfish, cold, and hypocritical he was. When did he change? I honestly couldn't tell you. I remember going through those Highlights children's activity books for hours with him. I remember playing video games with him for hours. It all changed at some point, he became the man I came to truly hate and promised to myself never to become. He judged my friends, always blatantly criticizing them for being girls. He often complained about how lazy I was. When I was trying to sleep through the day it was because I was going through a depression spell or the sort. Of course, there was no point in discussing this with either of my parents since they didn't believe in depression. I remember I would be so afraid to even lay my head down on my bed since he would just rush in and start yelling. During those moments I would just promise to myself that I would leave someday and never turn back.
My father was never the type that would discuss his "concerns" with us. Often he would complain to my mother or yell at us rather than speaking to us in a civil manner. He knew that his children cared for their mother, therefore when it was our mother that would speak to us, we listened. We didn't want to trouble our mother, working 16-shifts 5 days a week was enough stress. My father knew that if he wanted to get to us he would have to go through my mother. My mother loved him unconditionally. He would tell us to just be patient with, that no matter what he was our father. Often my siblings and I would just nod our heads and walk away begrudgingly.
My siblings and I have come to see our father as the enemy. My mother is the only one that works and he often tries to push my mother to take on more hours. He goes overseas often at my mother's expense and buys whatever he deems necessary. Of course, my mother would just hand over her hard earned cash with barely a protest, if at all. I saw him as a leech, but there was nothing my siblings and I could do, he had our mother's ear and heart.
In any case, it seems that he's deteriorating now. My mother seems to be concerned about his blood pressure and the fact that he has been diagnosed with anxiety that has to be medicated. Honestly, at this point, I could care less. Yes, when my mother told me all this I did feel a tinge of remorse. But the fact of the matter is, he brought this onto himself. He pushed my mother's side of the family away; they all despise him. Even his own siblings despise him. For a man to have so many enemies, enemies that are of his own blood, one cannot be blamed to assume that he is the cause. Yes, he is my father by blood, but did he live up to the role of the father I wanted and needed? No, he didn't.
Now, he's falling apart. Now, the tyrant deteriorates and holds not the power he once held. Do I pity him? Yes. Do I love him? Yes. But is he a man I am proud of to call my father? No.
Growing up, my father was a tyrant. I do remember him being a kind but firm father during my early childhood, but it seems as if it had all changed at some point. One day I came to realize how selfish, cold, and hypocritical he was. When did he change? I honestly couldn't tell you. I remember going through those Highlights children's activity books for hours with him. I remember playing video games with him for hours. It all changed at some point, he became the man I came to truly hate and promised to myself never to become. He judged my friends, always blatantly criticizing them for being girls. He often complained about how lazy I was. When I was trying to sleep through the day it was because I was going through a depression spell or the sort. Of course, there was no point in discussing this with either of my parents since they didn't believe in depression. I remember I would be so afraid to even lay my head down on my bed since he would just rush in and start yelling. During those moments I would just promise to myself that I would leave someday and never turn back.
My father was never the type that would discuss his "concerns" with us. Often he would complain to my mother or yell at us rather than speaking to us in a civil manner. He knew that his children cared for their mother, therefore when it was our mother that would speak to us, we listened. We didn't want to trouble our mother, working 16-shifts 5 days a week was enough stress. My father knew that if he wanted to get to us he would have to go through my mother. My mother loved him unconditionally. He would tell us to just be patient with, that no matter what he was our father. Often my siblings and I would just nod our heads and walk away begrudgingly.
My siblings and I have come to see our father as the enemy. My mother is the only one that works and he often tries to push my mother to take on more hours. He goes overseas often at my mother's expense and buys whatever he deems necessary. Of course, my mother would just hand over her hard earned cash with barely a protest, if at all. I saw him as a leech, but there was nothing my siblings and I could do, he had our mother's ear and heart.
In any case, it seems that he's deteriorating now. My mother seems to be concerned about his blood pressure and the fact that he has been diagnosed with anxiety that has to be medicated. Honestly, at this point, I could care less. Yes, when my mother told me all this I did feel a tinge of remorse. But the fact of the matter is, he brought this onto himself. He pushed my mother's side of the family away; they all despise him. Even his own siblings despise him. For a man to have so many enemies, enemies that are of his own blood, one cannot be blamed to assume that he is the cause. Yes, he is my father by blood, but did he live up to the role of the father I wanted and needed? No, he didn't.
Now, he's falling apart. Now, the tyrant deteriorates and holds not the power he once held. Do I pity him? Yes. Do I love him? Yes. But is he a man I am proud of to call my father? No.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Family: What it Means to Me as a Gay Teen
So it's Thanksgiving tomorrow, I have the rest of the week off from school. Both of my roommates left yesterday afternoon after their last class. I, on the other hand, am staying at the dorms, which is what I did last year.
My family was never really the type that celebrated the holidays. It's not necessarily something that we decide not to do, but something that just comes to be. My mother is a nurse, therefore she's often at work on the holidays (Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc.). I would say that mother is the center figure, the anchor of our family and for her not to be present, it just wouldn't have made sense for my siblings and I to do something without her. In any case, in previous years my older siblings were often with their friends during the holidays and I would be at home with my younger sister and father. Often, we would be in our rooms watching television and treating it like any other day.
If I were to go home for Thanksgiving, the lack of a celebration would be more evident, more upsetting. For me to go home and see my family and me proceed with the day as if it was any other day, knowing how it would differ with what my friends are doing, it's too upsetting, it makes me envious of my friends. I don't like that feeling. Sitting here, thinking about it, and writing about it, it's much more upsetting than I realized. It's upsetting to bring to the foreground the feeling of how my family seems so cold, distant, and depressing, especially during this time of the year.
Yes, the holidays are about being with family and loved ones, but I feel more upset, depressed, and frustrated when I am at my parents'. Yes, they are my family, but I do not feel at home when I am there. I feel a mere obligation to be present when I am with family. It saddens me because when I think of my family, I think of my little sister and how this could all be affecting her. I remember being in first grade when one of my older sisters stopped walking me to school; I felt so sad. The fact that I remember that moment to this day, it makes me realize how intense the feeling of sadness really was. So I wonder how my little sister feels when her siblings have fled the nest, with parents that would rather have her cooped up at home than to have her running around outside because of the small risk of falling and getting a scratch or bruise.
I know that I could go home for my little sister, that it is a reason to return. I know that I could be there for her, considering how the feeling of concern is present. Nonetheless, I've decided to keep my distance, for my sake. I do not feel at home in that house anymore. I do not feel the desire to be there. Yes, I love my family, but I never found the connection I always yearned to have with them without risking my freedom as an individual. I don't think I ever will.
My parents had always been the type that would rather have their children at home than to explore the world. My parents believed in being home with the family and taking care of the household rather than to be in extracurricular activities. Due to this, I never joined a club at school. I was always too afraid to defy my parents, to feel like I was neglecting my duties at home. Of course, I could have defied my parents at any given time, but I knew that the best I could do was to be obedient until I could leave of my own accord. In my mind I believed that obeying my parents' every whim would be better for me than to defy them. I had known that I am gay since I was twelve or thirteen years old, so to defy them meant putting myself at odds with them even more.
I guess my homosexuality did play a big part in how my connection with my family poorly developed. I kept to myself thinking that it would be easier for me to be hurt if I tried to get close to them. For the whole duration of my time living in that house from the time I realized I was gay to when I finally left for college and had yet to come out to them, I felt it would be best to keep my distance. I never told them of my hopes and dreams, what made me happy, what made me sad, or anything. My parents were the type that imposed their identity, their desires, and themselves on us. There have been times that I was emotionally hurt by them and with me keeping my sexuality as a secret from them, it amplified the pain even more. I believed that if I got too close and they found out about my sexuality, they'd use it against me, the way they used it against my older sister (who currently has a live-in girlfriend). I did not want to go through what my older sister went through, so I bet my tongue and kept quiet.
It was not until I had left for college that they realized how much distance I wanted from them. For the first few months I ignored all phone calls and the sort from them. I wanted to establish my independence and individuality, but with them always calling me, asking me when I would come home just to be home, I started to resent them. I started to hate them for trying to hold me back, to keep me in a place I did not want to be or have a purpose being in. It was not until I kept myself away for so long that they realized that I could survive without them. It was not until I separated myself from them that they realized how I was not afraid to leave of my own accord. I was the first one of all my siblings to move out. It was not until I had moved out that one of my older sisters moved out to live with her girlfriend; I was proud of her when she finally did it. My father was a hypocrite, always threatening to kick us out or that we could leave if we wanted to. When I finally left to challenge his threat and moved out, he was the one that protested. So hypocritical, so pathetic.
I don't know. At this point, I wonder, perhaps it would have been better to defy them sooner. To this day, even though I have distanced myself from them, I still feel as if I have yet to allow myself to truly live. I feel as if I've locked myself in my own cage and I don't know where I've placed the key. I want to change that, I want to be completely free from their superimposing influence and I'm trying.
I will end this post right here since I don't really think such a discussion has an ending. It is what it is and we must live with the thoughts and decisions that come with it.
My family was never really the type that celebrated the holidays. It's not necessarily something that we decide not to do, but something that just comes to be. My mother is a nurse, therefore she's often at work on the holidays (Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc.). I would say that mother is the center figure, the anchor of our family and for her not to be present, it just wouldn't have made sense for my siblings and I to do something without her. In any case, in previous years my older siblings were often with their friends during the holidays and I would be at home with my younger sister and father. Often, we would be in our rooms watching television and treating it like any other day.
If I were to go home for Thanksgiving, the lack of a celebration would be more evident, more upsetting. For me to go home and see my family and me proceed with the day as if it was any other day, knowing how it would differ with what my friends are doing, it's too upsetting, it makes me envious of my friends. I don't like that feeling. Sitting here, thinking about it, and writing about it, it's much more upsetting than I realized. It's upsetting to bring to the foreground the feeling of how my family seems so cold, distant, and depressing, especially during this time of the year.
Yes, the holidays are about being with family and loved ones, but I feel more upset, depressed, and frustrated when I am at my parents'. Yes, they are my family, but I do not feel at home when I am there. I feel a mere obligation to be present when I am with family. It saddens me because when I think of my family, I think of my little sister and how this could all be affecting her. I remember being in first grade when one of my older sisters stopped walking me to school; I felt so sad. The fact that I remember that moment to this day, it makes me realize how intense the feeling of sadness really was. So I wonder how my little sister feels when her siblings have fled the nest, with parents that would rather have her cooped up at home than to have her running around outside because of the small risk of falling and getting a scratch or bruise.
I know that I could go home for my little sister, that it is a reason to return. I know that I could be there for her, considering how the feeling of concern is present. Nonetheless, I've decided to keep my distance, for my sake. I do not feel at home in that house anymore. I do not feel the desire to be there. Yes, I love my family, but I never found the connection I always yearned to have with them without risking my freedom as an individual. I don't think I ever will.
My parents had always been the type that would rather have their children at home than to explore the world. My parents believed in being home with the family and taking care of the household rather than to be in extracurricular activities. Due to this, I never joined a club at school. I was always too afraid to defy my parents, to feel like I was neglecting my duties at home. Of course, I could have defied my parents at any given time, but I knew that the best I could do was to be obedient until I could leave of my own accord. In my mind I believed that obeying my parents' every whim would be better for me than to defy them. I had known that I am gay since I was twelve or thirteen years old, so to defy them meant putting myself at odds with them even more.
I guess my homosexuality did play a big part in how my connection with my family poorly developed. I kept to myself thinking that it would be easier for me to be hurt if I tried to get close to them. For the whole duration of my time living in that house from the time I realized I was gay to when I finally left for college and had yet to come out to them, I felt it would be best to keep my distance. I never told them of my hopes and dreams, what made me happy, what made me sad, or anything. My parents were the type that imposed their identity, their desires, and themselves on us. There have been times that I was emotionally hurt by them and with me keeping my sexuality as a secret from them, it amplified the pain even more. I believed that if I got too close and they found out about my sexuality, they'd use it against me, the way they used it against my older sister (who currently has a live-in girlfriend). I did not want to go through what my older sister went through, so I bet my tongue and kept quiet.
It was not until I had left for college that they realized how much distance I wanted from them. For the first few months I ignored all phone calls and the sort from them. I wanted to establish my independence and individuality, but with them always calling me, asking me when I would come home just to be home, I started to resent them. I started to hate them for trying to hold me back, to keep me in a place I did not want to be or have a purpose being in. It was not until I kept myself away for so long that they realized that I could survive without them. It was not until I separated myself from them that they realized how I was not afraid to leave of my own accord. I was the first one of all my siblings to move out. It was not until I had moved out that one of my older sisters moved out to live with her girlfriend; I was proud of her when she finally did it. My father was a hypocrite, always threatening to kick us out or that we could leave if we wanted to. When I finally left to challenge his threat and moved out, he was the one that protested. So hypocritical, so pathetic.
I don't know. At this point, I wonder, perhaps it would have been better to defy them sooner. To this day, even though I have distanced myself from them, I still feel as if I have yet to allow myself to truly live. I feel as if I've locked myself in my own cage and I don't know where I've placed the key. I want to change that, I want to be completely free from their superimposing influence and I'm trying.
I will end this post right here since I don't really think such a discussion has an ending. It is what it is and we must live with the thoughts and decisions that come with it.
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