I notice that today is National Coming Out Day and last Monday, October 10th was the World Mental Health Day, so maybe I figure to tell some stories regarding how those days turn out to be the pinnacle of my awakening as a truly realized person.
It’s truly terrifying for a person like me; gay and clinically depressed, to be living in one of the countries most prejudiced about those kind of things, the country that is now relying on the religious aspects. Which is good, except it has gotten way out of control. I am truly scared of my existence.
The first time I came out was to my high school friend, we were seniors and I had a crush to this boy in another school. The urge for me to tell this was unified finally because, I didn’t have someone to tell these kind of confessions. When I finally told her, she was so okay with all of it, and it made me feel safe. Safe, because the environment I was in was full of toxic masculinity, one that praises the whole heteronormative notions. Sure, I always had exposed myself as a free-spirited person. Surely, other people had picked up on my eccentricity by then, and mocked me quite bad. But I stood up, I guess. I felt brave and loved, especially after coming out.
But things did not go quite as smoothly in my household as it was outside. I remember the day they found out, I was in my second year of college, they had peeked through my cell phone when I was sleeping. In the morning, I felt the vibe in my house to be very icy and ostracized by my whole members of family. But since I grew up with those kind of treatment outside my family, I shrugged that off. And I felt okay again. But, that changed abruptly when the night came.
My father asked me to have ‘the talk’ in which it was not really the talk, but rather an offense, a violation to my identity. He stripped me down with condescending questions and his jaundiced staring. And to end that horrid session of talking, he put me on the pedestal by emotionally blackmailing me and my whole position in family, life, and everything important. I felt like being erased. It hurt me the most because they’re my people by blood, they raised me and made me feel loved. And to put that kind of infringement as the cherry on top? It’s bullshit.
Regardlessly, all those burden I have freed upon since I was a child all the way through high school; they all came back to me with vengeance. At that time, I got it altogether, I can manage to work my way up academically and all. And something happened. (As in a boy happened). I thought to myself, “Oh no, this is not happening, I won’t let this happen to me.”
But they did. They almost succeeded in trying to assassinate me.
My school life was nonexistent at some point. I have friends, beloved friends whom are always there for me. But that’s where the anxiety and self-worth issues attacked me. They got me thinking that I am not good enough to be within their precious presence, they got me thinking that I am not worthy of feeling loved, they got me thinking that I was such a pussy for not being able to finish killing myself off years ago. All the negativity had finally dominated me.
In the end, a friend had come up and confronted me about getting professional help since about one and a half years ago. I did follow his advice (or intervention, more likely). The amount of help and love, as well as encouragement and alone time really help me, at least in starting to believe that I am not, all of those things that used to get me down. Thankfully, I am still here. Because I was true and I admitted to myself that, everything COULD be okay and it’s surely okay to ask for help.
Coming out, much like hooking up, is not a one time thing. It’s a process that you have to go through every time. It bares repeating that this event could accentuate your whole life; it opens your eyes, frees you from burden, and you don’t have to keep lying to yourself. I had realized that whatever did I do back then will still be continuing for me, but at least, I know how t handle them and shrug that off because that kind of realization will stick to you no matter what.
Coming out in this context can mean anything, in fact, let me do it as an example, so you can feel like doing it too:
Hello, my name is Tada. I’m 22 years of age. I’m as gay as the whole 35 albums of Barbra Streisand combined, and I have clinical depression and huge-ass anxiety, so, don’t trigger me!