There's a Reason For It All

While walking home from class last week, ridden with anxiety & just trying to get out of my head space, I came across the homeless man I'd encountered a couple of times in the past few weeks. His blankets had fallen on the ground behind his wheel chair so I stopped to pick them up and say a quick hello. This “quick hello” turned into so much more than I ever could have expected.

We chatted about my classes, the weather, Nam, just life in general... as I stood there talking it seemed as if the conversation was beginning to go on forever. Although I’m sure it was all in my head I felt as though I was trapped and there was no way out. This isn’t to say I don’t enjoy talking to the man, I was just ridden with so much anxiety that day and just wanted to go home to my bed, where I felt safe. Finally, I found a way out and as I turned to leave he notice my jacket. Across my chest was the word LOVE. I had forgotten all about it. I've had the jacket for so long that I hardly even take notice of it anymore but as soon as he brought it up I remembered the organization that was so close to my heart. I explained to him that To Write Love On Her Arms was an organization raising awareness about depression and offering help for those who are suicidal. He then began to tell me his story... his amazing story of how he tried but thankfully failed to commit suicide!

On his first attempt he put a gun into his mouth, tried to pull the trigger, and nothing happened. As a result of inspecting the gun he realized the safety just so happened to be on. This problem was easily solvable so he switched the safety to its off position and as he was about to try again he heard his wife walk in the door. Not wanting his wife to see him shooting a bullet through his head, he put the gun away determined to try again later. Fortunately, his family got into some financial problems and he had to sell his gun to feed his family. Still depressed and life still playing out a rough hand, he bought a shot gun right before the uncertainty of the new millennium. Not being able to handle the unknown, he put the shot gun to his chest and pulled the trigger… misfire! At this point he put the shotgun down, and decided he would give up on this idea of killing himself. He knew God must want him here for some reason. He didn’t know what that reason was but he knew God must have a big plan for him.

After hearing this story, my anxiety subsided (at least for a little while). God has a reason and plan for everything. I’ve always known that but I never really got it until that moment. Maybe God’s reason for keeping this man alive was to bring him into my life and inspire some shred of hope back into my soul.

I Feel It In My Bones

What is lying, really?
When I change the pronoun "she" to "them" or "they" when talking about a situation with a girl to friends... is that a lie? When I tell co-workers I spent the previous night singing karaoke at a local bar but leave out the gay bar detail... is that a lie? I mean really what does constitute a lie, because if this whole lying by omission idea has a solid foundation, I've buried myself deep. My whole life has literally become one lie after another, & I've become scarily good at skirting my way around the truth; you know never technically telling a lie.
In this I literally have created two different worlds for myself, the one in which my bisexual self lives, and alternately, the one in which my straight self exists. For a while these worlds existed completed separately & in perfect harmony. Recently however, my two worlds have begun to collide & I'm beginning to have trouble living in the middle of what has become this kind of Venn diagram type of life.
The lying, if that's what we call it, has frequently become a daily task. Living in this way is painful and a chore. Many of these people that only know half of my truth have actually turned out to be some of the most important people in my life. Truly this is the reason it is all so painful. I want more than anything for these people to really be able to know me. It feels wrong to keep holding back a part of my life that defines so much of who I've become over the past few years. However, with all of my deceiving I'm not sure any of these people are ready to actually hear the truth. It's not even something I'm sure how to say.
Until I do something, though, I'll have this feeling gnawing at bones, telling me that something isn't right within my life. Though I know I haven't directly lied to anyone, I've deceived many, and I'm sure it's time to make that right.