This is Just The Beginning

In the words of Eliel Cruz, “I didn’t want to exchange a white heteronormative world for a white homonormative one.”

I gotta be honest, it’s tiring as a queer bisexual girl to see the cis white gays waving their Pride flags and talking about just marriage equality, acting like this is the one and only fight of the LGBT community. They never once mention the issues that transgender people face, never once talk about bisexual erasure, and pretty much never discuss things beyond the “L” and “G” of LGBT. Not to mention the whole leaving out QPOC.

Again, not shitting on the victory that is marriage equality. But I’ve got a double whammy being a queer bisexual girl, and my identity is often erased in the LGBT community. My partner’s identity is even more erased. Our issues are rarely discussed. How often have you heard others in the "L" and "G" part of the community being super vocal about trans issues, like access to restrooms and proper medical care? I know, just because someone doesn’t speak up about something doesn’t mean they don’t care about it, per se. But when they act like the marriage equality movement is the main issue in the LGBT community, it ticks me off. Because people are dying, yet how often do you hear about trans suicide rates?  Where’s the outrage over this? Do they realize that there's no marriage to look forward to if most of us are dead?

Yes, I’m grumpy and cynical as hell. But I’m tired of this homonormative world that erases queer and trans people.

Jason Cantrell had a good point in this blog post: "The Supreme Court may have given everyone the right to marry, but there are still a lot of places where transgender individuals don’t have the right to use a public restroom. And there’s still a lot of people who have to hide who they are, for fear of being attacked by “good moral Christians” and “proud patriotic Americans” who see anything outside of their binary, heteronormative world as a threat to their lifestyles. And I don’t know what to do about that. And it scares me."

So, yes, marriage equality is great and I’m excited for it. But this is just the beginning. We have so much more to work on. I hope that we continue to make progress and keep working on the issues that affects those in the community who don’t fall under the “L” and “G” of LGBT.

No One Fucking Gets It (As Usual)

It's no secret I've suffered from depression for a long time. Paired with the ridiculous anxiety I have, it's not a pleasant combination.

I'm not comfortable explaining why I'm this way. I know what's wrong with me, I know damn well why I'm depressed and have wanted to kill myself in the past. But I can't talk about it publicly, at least not on blogs my mom knows that I write for and under my actual name. If certain people knew about the physical and emotional trauma I've been through, I don't know how they'd react. Especially when it comes to my mom. She's tried asking about it before, but I can't open up to her. Not yet. It's all still too...fresh. I have to deal with the pain every day and sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode. I look around me and wonder how no one can see that there's something wrong with me. Maybe my smile's too convincing.

Maybe it's because no one sees the days where I'm curled up in my room, shaking and trying not to cry. Trying not to cut. Trying not to give up. Because I still remember everything, or most of it. What's put together of my broken memories paints some scary shit.

I feel trapped. Because beyond anonymously writing for other blogs and frantically DMing certain friends only to quickly clear out the conversation in hopes my mom doesn't see it, I can't tell anyone else. It'd made everything fall apart. Things would get worse. I'm not sure if everyone would believe me, or believe just how badly I've been affected by what happened.

So I'm quiet, but it's killing me.

Crumbling

It's one of those days where the thoughts of everything I have to go through for the next 12 months are bothering me. I don't know how I'm gonna make it, honestly. It's a fucking miracle that I've made it this far.

My mental health isn't getting any better. The good days were enough to trick me into thinking so, but y'know what? I was wrong. I'm not getting better. And that's really scary for me, because I know how far I'm capable of going when I relapse. Sometimes there's no coming back from that place.

I'm sitting here on Twitter while I write this blog post, trying to find someone to interact with and distract myself. I'm trying to think of funny jokes I could make. Maybe throw in some TWSS jokes somewhere. Get someone to talk to me so I can stop dwelling on all the bullshit in my life right now.

I'm hurting and I'm scared.

This is Where I'm Honest

What better way to start off a blog post than with a lame, awkward introduction? Cause lame and awkward is what I do!

Hi, world. I'm Kelley. I'm a 17 year old with depression and anxiety. I've wanted to kill myself before, and I can't tell you how often I've wanted to hurt myself. I'm your stereotypical loner girl who doesn't really have any close friends, except those she's met over the internet.

I've tried writing this blog post more times than I can count. There's drafts of this on my Drive, uncompleted and shared only with my partner. Most of it starts now nice and concise, like this blog post has so far, then dissolves into a rambly, emotional mess. I never have the energy to finish them, much less clean them up and make them less...broken. I write the way I think. To try and edit that into a concise form removes the meaning of my words. Sterilizes them.

It's 1 in the morning and I don't even know if what I've written so far makes any sense. I've been talking on Twitter tonight to some lovely ladies about depression and anxiety. It's a conversation that, while relieving to finally have so openly, has left me a little frustrated. Because the stuff I tweeted about in that conversation is stuff I've been trying to put into a blog post for ages. Or, at least, convey to my mother face-to-face. That never happens, obviously. She still doesn't know why I'm so depressed and anxious sometimes.

And honestly, I don't even know why a lot of the time. I have no explanation for the gray clouds and the odd, awkward bouts of omg too much energy got to do something why won't everyone leave me alone why can't I do anything. It's a fucking roller coaster. I can go from wanting to cut myself and die in a hole to I have to do all the things otherwise I'm a shitty human being.

It doesn't make sense. Nothing makes any fucking sense anymore. Not the paranoia, the depression, the anxiety, the strange tendencies that I think are obsessive-compulsive disorder. It's scary to have none of it make sense, because if it doesn't make sense, how do I fix it? Is there any fixing it? Or do I just have to deal with this for the rest of my life and just cope to the best of my abilities?

I don't know what to do.

The Bible Condemns Me, Yet I'm Fucking Queer

Religious homophobia is a tricky thing.

As a Christian, I know where conservative straight Christians are coming from. I’ve read the Bible verses. I know why they believe what they believe.

But I’m queer. I also have to deal with the fact that, even though the Bible condemns homosexuality, I’m very fucking queer. There’s nothing that’s going to change that. I cannot deny my attractions to those who don’t fall within the rigid, cis/heteronormative male binary. There is no off switch.

I cannot squeeze myself into a cis/heteronormative box, either. I cannot pretend. Being in the closet hurts too much. In denying myself, I’m saying that my true self is wrong. That’s damaging.

Homophobia tells us that we're less. That we're broken and stupid and worthless. And for those of us who are Christians, it makes us question our salvation. An eternal, peaceful afterlife is something a lot of us look forward to. But when we’re told that an innate part of us will damn us to eternal misery...that fucking hurts.

I feel lost. Hurt. Broken. Damaged. Unloved.

This has to change. Please.

Sometimes, I Regret Coming Out

Sometimes, I regret coming out.

I’m only in the beginning stages of my coming out, so I suspect that this regret will occur time and time again. Some days I may say, fuck yeah, this was a great decision! I feel so empowered! Other days? They’ll feel like this.

People have had negative reactions. I wasn’t naive enough to think this wouldn’t happen. But I’ve underestimated how badly it would hurt. I wasn’t prepared for the intense loneliness I would feel, and how bad some days would get. Just a day or two ago, I was really depressed because I was like, yo, people really hate me more than I originally thought. I felt trapped again, and honestly, who wouldn’t? I’m in that stereotypical “teenager stuck in a small town full of narrow-minded, mean people” situation. And it really fucking sucks.

It’s difficult for me because even though I turn seventeen in a couple of days, I’m still not a legal adult. I’m stuck here until I get a job and a driver’s license. But then again, not even a job is enough to secure my leaving.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not itching to leave town just because of a couple of bad reactions. But sometimes, I’m just overwhelmed with how small this place is and how easy it’ll be for word to spread around concerning my “deviant” sexuality. I mean, assuming word hasn’t spread around already. If not in the overall town, then in my homeschool community, maybe. Then even more ostracization could occur.

It’s a gut-wrenching thought.

I do honestly wonder what things would’ve been like if I hadn’t come out. Would I have continued to pass invisible through my communities? No one can find much to gossip about when it comes to a shy girl. A shy, queer girl on the other hand…

*sigh*

I don’t know how things are going to keep turning out. I’m not blasting news of my sexuality off the rooftops of churches and won’t be any time soon, so I think that as long as most “IRL people” don’t find my Twitter, I’ll be okay. And, y’know, assuming Stalker Dance Mom and her girls aren’t gossiping with the rest of the community about my sexuality.

Yeah, this should get...interesting.

Struggling With Writing...Everything

I’m struggling tonight. Have been struggling for over a week now. I’ve tried writing various pieces on many different topics, some so close to my heart that I can’t share them on this blog. But I keep failing. I get blocked, don’t know how to continue, or think the idea I was pursuing is utter shit. I’m stuck in a vicious circle of starting, not finishing, then starting another piece...failing again to finish either piece…

It’s discouraging, really. Because I want to be a better writer. I want to get more of my stuff out there, but I can’t if I never finish it. I don’t know if what I’m trying to write about is just too heavy, or if my attention span is just utter crap at the moment. But I need to finish something.

Maybe someone should come threaten me and give me a deadline to at least finish a first draft of something? ;)

A Queer Christian Homeschooler's Thoughts on RFRA

Besides the Gamergate hashtag (eww), I've never seen something tweeted about so much in my feed. Nor have I witnessed such blatant ignorance and homophobia.

The RFRA hashtag is a mixture of trashy, disgusting tweets comparing the LGBT rights movement to Nazi Germany, and then tweets from people in the LGBT, Christian, and LGBT Christian communities who strongly oppose the bill. I try not to read through the RFRA tweets that much unless they're from my friends, because the rampant homophobia exhibited by some Christians is absolutely sickening. (Not to mention depressing!)

Another reason why I'm not in it much? Because there's a lot more screaming at each other than there is people actually listening.

The "Christian vs. LGBT" debate has always been a popular one. (And an especially difficult one for us LGBT Christians.) Whether it's conservative politicians comparing homosexuality to bestality, or LGBT rights movement leaders talking about how bigoted the conservative Christian side is, there's always someone with an opinion. And it's not always pretty. Either side is always met with a crapload of backlash. Instead of having civil discussions, some resort to name-calling and more bigotry. Hardly any of us actually sit down and have a well thought out discussion.

So as a queer Christian teenager, here's what I have to say:

Many conservative Christians are never going to change their theological beliefs when it comes to how LGBT people should be treated. Sure, not all conservatives maintain the same theology over the course of their lives. Some of them do change and become more loving to the LGBT community even if theologically, they don't agree with their sexuality. But for those who don't? They're not going to back down. They believe that their theology is the end-all when it comes to the topic of homosexuality. They believe that their theology should be what America takes its laws from. (Pretty damn scary thought, if you've read Leviticus.)

For me, the problem doesn't lie within their theology, per se. People having theological differences and disputes is normal, healthy even. But it becomes a problem when a Christian uses their theology to bash the LGBT community. A Christian's individual belief system cannot (and should not) apply to the rest of humanity. Not everyone is the same! Not everyone is Christian, or is even religious. The idea that we need to have people governed by Christian ideas of morality just isn't going to work out.

Still, despite all the bigotry and steaming hatred coming from some parts from the conservative Christian community, I do have some conservative Christian friends. We may have theological differences, but we still (respectfully) debate the gay marriage argument. And more than that? We discuss morality, divine salvation, equal rights, and love. They treat the LGBT community (and myself) like people instead of mere sex acts.

Why can't more Christians be like this? It would make things a whole lot easier, and honestly, I think we would get a whole lot more productive discussion done.

So in the end, when it comes to RFRA? Personally, I'm not a big fan. People shouldn't be able to discriminate in the name of religion. The people responsible for this bill here in Georgia and Indiana need to add non-discrimination policies to the bill that extend to the LGBT community too. I think it's possible to have LGBT rights and (the true kind of) religious freedom co-existing. Or maybe I'm just naive...

4 AM Thoughts RE: Locking Down

Locking down feels like running away when things get tough. I feel like I'm being a coward. After all, it's *just* Twitter...right?

Twitter wasn't supposed to be a place where I'm afraid to express myself because I have this *paranoid* fear that people from my real life are stalking my tweets and laughing at what I post. I've gone through enough of being laughed at in person. I don't want to experience from them online.

Why is it that I can deal with hordes of random internet trolls but I can hardly deal with real life people stalking me?

Why are real life people giving me so much BS? :(

And here we go again...

I'm supposed to be writing a piece for Stigma Fighters. I'm supposed to be keeping up with strengthening my ankles during the week because I'm a pointe dancer. I'm supposed to be doing...a lot of things.

But it's hard to do a lot of things when you feel worthless, disgusting, lonely, and like everyone is always making fun of you while simultaneously shunning you from every social circle.

Everyone keeps telling me that I should have self-esteem, that I'm some amazing human being or something. A few people have even called me a badass. Not sure why. What's so badass about an awkward, nerdy introverted teenage girl who is barely paid attention to because she's such a weirdo?

I don't understand why anyone sees anything special about me at this point, because I've messed up a lot of stuff lately.

I just want to be a good person. I don't have to fit in. God knows that's never going to be a possibility for me. But I'm just tired of messing up. I'm tired of people not liking me.

I don't know what to do at this point. No one needs nor wants my angsty Twitter rants. Maybe I should just take lots of hot showers (hot as in steam, thank you very much, dirty-minded people. ;P) this week and take some time for myself. This bout of bleh will end eventually.

Dear 13 Year Old Kelley: We Love You

Dear 13 year old Kelley,

I love you. We all love you.

I know that with where you’re at right at, this is impossible for you to comprehend. You’re scared, and I don’t blame you. You’ve been raised a certain way all of your life and to go against that is terrifying. I know that you’re trying to pray it away. I know that you’re still acting really homophobic because you’re scared that accepting yourself will mean you spend an eternity in Hell.

Sweetheart, that is so far from the truth.

You’re not an abnormality. You’re not disgusting. You don’t have to frantically pray and ask God to forgive you when you have sexual thoughts about another girl. God still loves you.

Three years from now, you’re going to be doing amazing things. You’re going to meet people just like you. You’re going to accept yourself and start a blog. You’re gonna make mistakes along the way, but it’s okay. That’s how you learn.

There are people who love you. These people are going to support you in ways you never expected. Complete strangers are going to stand by your side when your longtime friends suddenly dump you. Hey, it is going to hurt when people leave. I’m not going to pretend that it’s all glitter and rainbows. There’s some really mean people that you have in your life right now that are going to backstab you later on. You don’t know that yet. You’re still working on fitting in with them, still trying to be that good fundie Christian girl. You’re ignoring everything that’s real about you. You’re ignoring your sexuality because you believe that even a same-sex sexual fantasy is a sin.

But you know what? It’s okay. It’s okay for you to be afraid. It’s okay for you to try and fit in. Because even though it’s a huge mistake, you’ll learn a lot from it later on. Right now, I look back at you and know that you’re at the beginning of an amazing journey. It’ll be scary, but it’s worth it. I promise.

There are people here waiting for you with open arms. They affirm your identity. They love you.

Remember: You’re queer. You’re Christian. You’re amazing.

You’re worth it.

Six Months Since Dad Died

It’s been six months since my dad died. And I no longer want to kill myself.

I never thought I’d reach this point. If you’d asked me 6 months ago if I thought I could go on living without my dad and be happy, I’d have said no. But now that I’m here on the other side of it and can look back, I know that all my dad ever wanted for me was happiness. If he could see me now, I know that he’d be pleased that I’m living my life the best I can without him. I still miss and love him, but I know that he’s getting the rest that he deserves.

Sure, I still have moments when I get emotional over a memory, but I’ve escaped that pit of wretched depression I used to be trapped in. I don’t spend days inside my room, only coming out when necessary, missing him so much that my chest ached. I’m more at peace, because I know his soul is at peace.

There’s still a bit of a lingering ache. Not one that’s overwhelming. Just a quiet reminder of how much I’ve lost. But now instead of bawling my eyes out, I just smile and get a little teary-eyed. Memories of him bring me peace instead of pain.

I know he's at peace, and I am too.

Rest in peace, Dad. See you one day.

Coming Out: A Quick Update

These past two weeks have really taken their toll on me. Despite the amazing support of my Twitter friends, I was still feeling a little down. And scared. And anxious. I’d mentioned a few times on Twitter about how the thought of going to youth group for the first time since coming out terrified me. Even though I’d *only* come out online, teens and adults in the church have access to my feed. I know some of them have seen my tweets and blog posts by now.

Besides one person from my church unfollowing me and other person blocking me, no one had really had a big reaction yet. Then I logged on Twitter last night. My youth pastor had DMed me. Here’s what he said:

“Kelley, I can't imagine the struggles you are facing and I'm not going to pretend to. This world is driven by hate. You see it in the media, it's either sexual orientation, race or political, the only thing that can drive out hate is love! I'm here for you. I will be praying for you and your family.”

By the time I’d finished reading, I was shaking. That wasn’t the response I’d expected at all, especially from him.

He accepts me just as I am.

Was his reaction unexpected? Hell yes. Down here in the South, the majority of people I know have staunch beliefs on homosexuality. Even though he moved here from PA, I thought he’d have a “love the sinner but tell them how wrong they are” mentality. But so far, apparently not.

His DMs made this past week worth it. Initially, I hadn’t expected that sort of support. But after so much rejection, his acceptance made me ecstatic. While I'm hoping for more positive outcomes like this, I know the vitriolic reactions are inevitable. But we'll see how it goes. :)

Implications of Coming Out: The Beginning

On Twitter, I’ve been talking a lot about coming out and the implications of it. My Twitter friends have been supporting me wholeheartedly, especially one in particular. They’ve been a huge source of support throughout all of this. They’re still closeted, but they’re always here for me when I need the extra push so I won’t give up. AND they’ve talked me through countless panic attacks. I know that if the time ever comes for them to come out, I’ll support them through it too.

But even though I have the full support of my Twitter friends, I know getting support from my IRL circles...won’t be so easy.

People from my IRL circles have access to my Twitter feed. Either I get followed (that’s rare) or someone happens to run across my tweets because of our mutual followers (my youth pastor has a Twitter account, and all of the youth group follows his account. Therefore, when he tweets me, they can see what my handle is and some of my tweets are.) Judging by some of the unfollows I’ve gotten recently, some of them are aware of my sexuality now.

I know not everyone agrees on the "issue" of homo/bisexuality, and I'm okay with that. It just becomes a problem when they start excluding people in the LGBT community simply because of our sexuality and/or gender expression. They believe we're sinners and shun us. A Christ-like attitude? Hell no. But a prevalent attitude around here nonetheless.

So you can understand why I have some reservations about going to youth group this upcoming Wednesday night. I don't expect people to be coming after me with pitchforks and torches, but I'm not exactly expecting a warm welcome. It all depends on who's seen what and who's told who.

Yeah. Keep me in your thoughts or prayers or whatever magical thing you like to do to give people good vibes and luck. I haven't been this nervous about going to youth group in a long time.

(Oh, and as of the writing of this post: One of the girls from my studio followed me earlier. Neither of us tweeted each other or interacted beyond her following me. Two hours later, she blocked me. I don't have to guess why.)

Another One of Those Days

Today is one of those days.

I got some blog post ideas that I've been trying to work on, but they're not going anywhere. I have my suspicions as to why (gloomy weather, lack of self-esteem, anxiety over coming out and wondering if it was a mistake), but knowing why isn't helping anything. My blog posts (asides from this one) aren't getting written. They're just sitting in my damn Google Drive, unfinished, which irks the hell out of me.

I want to be useful. I want to do something with my life. I'm tired of being the stupid little kid who's really shy and ends up slurring her speech when she does actually end up talking, therefore sounding like the biggest idiot ever. I'm tired of having anxiety. I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of people using me as a doormat, then playing victim when I scream at them for stepping on me and hurting me. I'm tired of being ostracized and ignored. I'm tired of feeling like I'm nothing. I'm tired of being stupid and useless.

So yeah. There you have it.

Queer in Christ

I wish I could say that I was completely comfortable in my own skin. I wish I could say that I’m not utterly and completely terrified to have my Twitter profile as “This odd combination of a writer, dancer, and a SDA homeschooled teenager who posts bits of faithfullyLGBT stuff here. Yeah, it's weird. #queerinChrist”

I trust that one day, I’ll be able to say those things.

But for now, I’m scared. Really damn scared. To be out to my mother is one thing. To be out to people in my church is another. It’s not that I’m walking up to them and saying “Yo, I’m queer.” My tweets and Twitter profile will tell them all that they need to know.

Call my new Twitter profile a rash move. Maybe it is. But there’s something frustrating and depressing about hiding. It’s not always “need-to-know” information, but when I’ve had people that I thought truly cared about our friendships suddenly cut them off because of this. And that really fucking hurts. So if there’s a chance people are going to leave me over this, I want to get it over with instead of forming deep, platonic emotional attachments to them.

Because there’s something really hurtful when a friend of 5+ years calls me “dishonest” because I never told her about this stuff in the first place.

In a way, there’s something relieving about being upfront and honest about everything. But that doesn’t negate the fact that making myself vulnerable to people’s possible harsh criticisms and questions. After what former friends have done, I won’t allow myself to hope too much for positive reactions (i.e. them not breaking off our friendships.)  

The only thing I can do is pray, rely on the support of my amazing Twitter friends, and hope that I can handle whatever happens. I can’t control people’s reactions and whether or not they’ll have a Christ-like attitude. All I can do is keep up a Christ-like attitude towards them no matter their reaction. I won’t stoop down to the level of those who choose to reject me and say ridiculous, untrue things. (“I can never hope understand why you changed or why you lived a lie to my face, but I do understand that our friendship can't go on. I don't know you, the girl I have called my very best friend for almost 7 years.” “The Kelley I know was loving, kind, honest, and loved God. But the real Kelley is bitter, angry, and hates God and everything that you once stood for.” “God is waiting for you to turn to Him. He never left you, and He never will. Never forget that.”)

No matter what, I know that God doesn’t make mistakes. They love me just the way I am. I’m queer in Christ and it’s beautiful.

Love Thy Queer Neighbor

(KJV) Mark 12:31 And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.

While browsing the internet back a couple of months ago, I ran across someone by the name of Steven Anderson, a pastor in Arizona. Someone had uploaded a video of his sermon from November 30th 2014 called “Pastor calls for killing gays to end AIDs”

Despite the scary title, I was intrigued and watched the video anyways. This is one of the things he said:

“Because if you executed the homos like God recommends, you wouldn’t have all this AIDs running rampant.”

There’s a lot of problems with this so-called sermon (especially with that quote), but the one I want to address is love. Or rather, lack thereof.

In the NT, Jesus preaches a lot of love. Lots of love. Lots of forgiveness. Way different from the OT.  He gave us an example to follow, yet how many of us actively work to emulate His example? I’m not saying we’re going to be able to maintain that example 24/7. We’re only human. But I think that for those of y’all that are in leadership positions within the Christian ministry, y’all need to work extra hard. You’re in a position where you’re (supposed to be) representing God and Their Word. You need to be thinking real hard about your sermons. What sort of message are you sending out to the world? What image of God are you giving others? (Non-believers included.)

Because I personally don’t see how demeaning people by throwing out slurs and telling them that they should be stoned in order to have an “AIDs-free Christmas” is going to bring them to God. And for those of us who are both gay and Christian or bi and Christian, how do you think we feel? Some of us are still struggling to accept our intersecting identities as gay or bisexual Christians. Your hateful (and frankly, quite frightening) rhetoric isn’t helping matters. If anything, we feel even more rejected and lost. By screaming for our deaths, you’re not bringing us any closer to God. Why? Because the only attitude you’re exhibiting is hate, and since you’re a man or woman of God, then God must also hate us. Or so we think.

I’d like to ask pastors like Steven Anderson to consider what they’re saying, and maybe, hopefully, seek out some civil discourse with those in the LGBT and LGBT Christian communities. See what our side of the story is. See that we’re not really all that scary. Some of us profess the same faith in God that you do.

And above all, follow the words of James 1:19-20: Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath: For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.

"Are You Okay?" No, no I am not. (TW: Suicide...)

I'm going to be honest. 100% honest. I'm not going to downplay anything anymore. I'm going to tell it like it is, no matter how much it hurts. 

I'm hurting. I've been suffering from urges to self-harm and the occasional suicidal fantasy. There are some people around me right now who've treated me in a negative way because they don't like me since they know the truth of who I am; my identity, what and who I'll always be. Only two people who know the truth are still my friends and are still willing to treat me the same way they did before they figured out the truth.

My dad died 42 days ago. I keep dreaming of him. I miss him so much.

My relationship to my mother is breaking down more and more. I'm tired of fighting with her. I'm tired of her wanting me to be something I'm not. I'm tired of hearing that she told my siblings that she doesn't want them going through the same phase and path that I'm going through. I know what she's talking about. And it makes me upset. Not all of my choices in the past year have been negative ones. Becoming my own person and not a mini-her isn't a bad thing.

My best friend left me earlier this month because she discovered my sexuality. And yes, for those of you who don't know, I'm bisexual. For my real life Twitter buddies, if you didn't know this, well...I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. It's no one's business unless I decide otherwise. Right now, I'm just going to come out and say it so we can get any drama over with: I'm bisexual. If you have a problem with it, just go. I'm tired of being treated like I'm the bad guy for hiding this from people.

So for those of you who've been asking if I'm okay....here's my answer. And it's no. I'm sorry I haven't been more honest and said that I wasn't, but I'm trying to be a brave person.

That brave mask has cracked.

Memories of My Dad

For the sixteen years that I had the privilege of being with my father, I always knew him to be a quirky, funny, and lovable guy. In 2005 after what I like to call "the incident" (some of my closer friends know what I'm talking about), he got post-traumatic stress disorder and became disabled within a few years due to the back injury accompanying "the incident". Even so, he still loved me and my other siblings and spoiled us rotten despite what little income we had. He never took out his anger on us, despite how awful his PTSD and depression was. There were few times when I saw him truly irritable, and those times were because the pharmacy wasn't giving him his Cymbalta refill. But even then, he'd ask for some alone time and step outside.

That man possessed a divine patience that I can only hope to one day have.

When I was 14 years old, I was struggling with my own issues (depression, SH urges). He was always my listening ear. Without complaint, he just sat there and listened. Then, when I was finished, he'd offer me advice and I calmed down. He could always rationalize things with me. I learned a lot from him. I learned how to cope, how to see things in a different life, and for the most part I learned how to accept that there were some things that I just could not change.

All my life, he was there for me. He made it to every dance performance (or rehearsal if he couldn't make the performance for some reason) up until this year, when he started chemo. There was never a time where he complained when I needed to talk to him. He'd exhaust himself doing whatever my siblings and I wanted and making sure our needs were met.

I'm going to miss him. I'm going to miss his guidance, his wisdom, and his laugh. Dear God, his laugh. These past three years, I rarely heard him laugh, but when he did, everyone started laughing. We treasured his laugh.

But he's at peace now. The Stage 4 bone cancer was the worst part of the cancer. I don't think it was as painful when it was in his lungs and liver. The bone cancer had gotten to the point where it kept him bed-ridden, moaning and twisting into different positions to alleviate some of the pain. :(

As much as it hurts to have him gone, I know it's for the better. He's pain-free and he deserves nothing less. <3

Thoughts on My Dad's Oncoming Death

My dad is dying, and I say that I'm okay with this, that I've accepted this because he'll finally escape the hellish pain that's been wracking his body for the last month due to the cancer spreading to his body.

But I am not "okay". I'm losing one of the few people in my life who was always my listening ear and always there for me. He is selfless, he is kind, and he loved me. He never yelled at me, raised a hand to me, and he is so forgiving. So very damn forgiving. I never deserved his seemingly endless forgiveness.

I am hollow inside. I've had enough struggles with depression in my life and it's flaring up again. It's been hard for me to eat and be motivated to do the simplest of tasks, like brushing my hair. Sometimes I don't want to do anything at all. It doesn't seem like it'd be worth it.

My dad and I had so much planned. We were going to repair our Jeep, for starters. It was the vehicle he taught me how to drive in and I love it. But now, we'll never get to work on it together. I'll have to carry out our plans and dreams for it by myself.

I'm going to miss him. But somehow, I'm going to have to go on without him.