The End (?)

In my most recent session with my therapist, she and I decided that we would stop seeing each other after two more meetings. Logistics initiated this shift – my residency starts on June 30 and I will have far less free time then in my schedule for a weekly therapy session. The choice to end therapy, for now, feels quite emotional though, in large part because of how I have attended therapy for six of the past seven years.

I remember at one point in undergrad talking with one of my favorite mentors on the phone while sitting on the floor of a bathroom in the main campus library.

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Gay People Move Too

Can you believe that gay people have to move too? Honestly me neither. Not only do I have to deal with the idealization of mediocre gay white men within the gay community, emotional unavailability/unresolved emotional baggage from the few men I have been interested in, and heteronormativity – I have to sell and pack my furniture and set up utilities and wifi too? Please knock me out and wake me up when Le Sserafim, Blackpink, or Twice releases their next comeback so I can jog to it while screaming along the Charles River.

Obviously I’m joking in that I have a ton of privileges and having to move is a piece of cake compared to hardships other people face in life. At the same time I have felt a wee bit stressed. So, I wanted to write this more casual post as a sort of interlude, in the form of specific strategies I’m using to cope with the moving stress, drawing from various therapy orientations. I love writing therapy-related blog posts instead of wasting time contending with mediocre men!

1. Breaking things down into smaller steps from cognitive behavioral therapy.

Gone

I have felt sad and depressed over the past several days because of a change in my life that occurred last week. Though I tend to share specifics about my life on this blog, I do not feel quite comfortable writing about what that change entailed. However, I will say that I feel proud of letting myself feel sad – in my childhood and adolescence, I considered sadness unproductive because it did not help me escape my abusive home life. Now I am giving myself space to feel the emotion, such as by writing about how change has both hurt and healed me in the past.

I also feel proud of myself for eating during these sad times, especially as a former anorexic! I got this take out French toast at like 1pm and I enjoyed it while rehearsing a research presentation.

When I think about change, I remember a time I visited an ex-close friend – before she became an ex – in a state in the northeast and first recognized that I would have to break up with her.

Mistakes Were Made

About a month ago I got dinner with a friend who I have known since high school. At some point the conversation turned to what it felt like to support me when my PTSD emerged for the first time during our undergraduate years together, about six years ago.

“Yeah Thomas, it was rough,” she said. “I remember I had to set super clear boundaries with you, because if I didn’t pick up the phone when you called, you’d freak out.”

When my friend told me this, I felt mortified.

It’s Only Time

I am not who I used to be. When I was younger, people scared me. I latched onto my dad’s leg at any family social event; I always chose a corner to stay in when I was with kids my age. But as the years passed, I gradually grew more comfortable with people. It was like learning how to swim. At first I stuck to the strokes I knew best – the close friends and topics of conversation I could handle – then I went further and further into the deep end, experimenting and learning new techniques, even if it was awkward and scary. Now, with introversion still my constant companion, I don’t mind speaking to strangers or large crowds. I really enjoy it, sometimes.

I planned to make this post about my physical illness, but changed my mind at the last moment. Just know that I was so sick I went on a retail therapy binge and bought these two beauties – The Moon and More is signed!

But that’s not why I felt like I was fading away a few days ago. Do you know what it’s like to disappear?

Things Change

My fists beat against the couch. Tears sting the scars on my face. Nothing matters anymore, now that I’ve failed. I didn’t get in. I didn’t pass the test. I didn’t get in. It’s time to say goodbye. I’ll never see my friends again. The bonds I’ve made, the lives I’ve touched, the games I’ve played – gone, forever.

I was only eight when my life changed.

Wide Awake

For the past 24 hours, I’ve been in a haze.

This morning, I finished packing my bags and left the prestigious summer program I’ve attended for the past month. Now, at 11:04 PM, I’m sitting in my seat at home, still unable to comprehend my urge to cry and my inability to actually do so.

The last 28 days have been the best of my life.

My Coming Out Post

Yesterday, I was talking to a friend I had made at the summer program I’m currently attending.

“What will you tell them?” I asked her. I was referring to her friends at home – I was curious about how she would describe me.

“I need to preface it by telling them you’re gay. No guy self-deprecates as much as you do, or says the things that you do,” she said.

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One of my best friends told me that I shouldn’t write a coming out post. If people are reading what I write and responding well, why tell them? I agree with her, in a sense.

But there are a myriad of people who stereotype gays. There are those who are curious about gays. They talk about gays. They throw around slurs and rumors and categorize people because they are gay. It’s funny, because gays receive so much attention, but so few rights.

My One Resolution For 2012

“What’s your most impressive accomplishment?”

That’s the question one of my tennis coaches asked me a few days ago. Unsurprisingly, I stood there, speechless, unable to answer. What is my most impressive accomplishment? How am I supposed to know what is truly impressive? In fact, what can I even consider an accomplishment?

Was it my writing and maintaining a blog, like he suggested? Of course I love this blog, and I would say that it is one of my most impressive accomplishments, but I’m not sure if it’s the most impressive accomplishment. I don’t think my parents would be that proud of this blog. They would probably say the straight A’s I garnered sophomore year are my biggest feat – but aren’t they just grades? I worked hard to get them and yet, many people attain straight A’s, some without even trying.