Conversation to Revelation

It is surprising how an innocent conversation with a friend and lead to a life changing revelation.

My teen years were spent in the 1980's. I had friends like most kids did. People we saw everyday in school and sometimes we did things together when we weren't in school. Having been in two different schools and towns during my high school years made keeping friends a challenge. I had friends at Valley High but when I moved they were lost. I made new friends at Brighton High and one became my best friend. We made friendships based on common interests. Those friendships grew as we got to know each other more. We shared what scared us and what we loved. It never became more than friendships. It just wasn't something that happened to a gay guy in the 1980s. 

When I got out on my own, things changed. I was no longer needing to keep my sexuality quiet. I was free to explore it and meet new people who shared my desires. I embraced it. I found the bars and the other places the guys hung out. I met people and I thought they were friends. They may have been but for the most part they were nothing more then sex partners or fuck buddies. We didn't have a connection beyond the sex. Sex was a driving force in my younger years. I saw it as a way to meet new people and mistakenly, using it to make friends. A friendship started with sex isn't hard to maintain and grow. 

For 30 years I had lived my life under the impression that I had friends when in reality I had sex partners.

Enter a new time in my life. Thrust upon me through hardship. I became exposed to a new group of people. A support group for those living with HIV. A group of guys who weren't gathered to "hook up", rather to seek support. A concept that I was never exposed to until then. Even then I would still hear the old programming in my head, the wanting to find a hook-up. Seeing a guy and thinking if I could have him. I now realize it was a conscious thing I did too. The more I went to this group the more I realized that I may have it wrong. One day a new face was in the group. He was shy and didn't say much, like most guys that are new. There was something different about this guy. I could sense it. Yes he was very attractive, both physically and sexually. I watched him and listened to his stories. Eventually I got up the nerve to talk to him and the journey began. Eventually he invited me to his place and we spent the night talking and getting to know each other. Sex wasn't a thing, not right away. Our friendship has become an amazing journey.

I made other friendships since then. All of them different then the others and all of them wonderful.

But for one. One that was started in a way that threatened its very existence. I met this guy through another friend. The particulars of that meeting aren't important except he made an impression on me right away. We didn't start our friendship by talking and getting to know each other. We started it with our dicks. That choice colored the relationship going forward, even though there was attempts to have discussions and learn about each other, the sex was ever present. It got in the way of learning what the other person was like. It prevents us from being as close as I had become with my other friends. It wasn't until we finally had a hard discussion that I had the revelation. 

I never had friends. I had sex partners and fuck buddies. I saw my new friends the same way even though sex wasn't something that was what drove our friendship. It wasn't until I was given the opportunity to see what I was doing am I now able to make the change. I have to reprogram how I see people.

I have 3 of the best friends I have ever had in my life. I have grown so much from knowing them. I have been kicked out of the box I was in while talking to one of them and I have been given the gift of seeing the vulnerable side of myself while talking to another. The other one has shown me how much I have failed and how to fix it. All the while standing by me as I find my footing as I learn to have friends. Real friends.

The most innocent conversations can lead to the most important changes in a person's life.

CONFESSION

I am a child of the 60's, 70s, and 80s. I am a part of Generation X. I missed the hippy culture of the 60's by a couple of decades. I did however experience the 70s and 80s. 

As I grew up I was never exposed to much diversity. I attended a private Lutheran school, which I don't believe we had much diversity in it. The neighborhoods I grew up in were all caucasian if I remember correctly. I didn't have many friends but the ones I did have were also caucasion. My exposure to people of color was limited to what I saw on TV or while out with my parents. I was never told that people who were different then me were any less then me. I never looked down at a person of color.

Later in my teenage years we moved to LaSalle, Colorado and it's predominant hispanic community. I began to hear the words that were used to disparage those of hispanic culture. "Spic", "Wetback" and "Beaner", were said freely in social gatherings and even in school. I never heard the word "nigger" until I had left home and was in the military. 

Even after I had left home for the military, did I really think about people of color as "people of color". They were just people, humans. Something changed though. I won't say that I had become racist to the point we are seeing today. I found myself falling into the part of the gay community that would only date, have sex with, or socialize with someone of their own "race". I honestly didn't even realize it had happened until now. I would say things like, "I don't like black guys because chocolate makes me break out." I simply wasn't attracted to them sexually, or even non-sexually. I am not sure why. It just wasn't something I liked.

As I got older and wiser I began to see men of color as more then just the shade of their skin. I began to see beauty, thanks to RuPaul, Gary Dourdan, and others. I got to know men of hispanic decent and I got to see them for their culture. I am proud to call many men of various "races" my friends. From the darkest to the lightest shades of skin. We are all still HUMAN.

The other side of drug abuse and addiction

Or what people don't hear or know about from those of us who are partnered with the drug abuser or addict.

Drug Abuse - The habitual taking of addictive or illegal drugs.
Addiction - The fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, think or activity.
Addict - A person who is addicted to a particular substance, typically an illegal drug.

Late 2016 was the beginning of a downward time in my life. It started abruptly from my perspective. One day everything was fine and the next I was thrust into a sorted mess of addiction and abuse.

My partner, M and I lead a quite life here in Denver. He worked for a large international company in Aurora and I worked retail. We had made a good life for ourselves, we bought a house and were happy; or I thought. Little did I know what awaited me in the latter months of 2016. A downward spiral that almost saw us lose our house and lively hood.

Being the one who wasn't using meant I was the one who was left to maintain, everything. From that emerged ANGER, RESENTMENT, GUILT and FEAR. Let me explain and examine each one.



ANGER - This manifested in several ways and at different times over the month of use. I was angry at my partner. I was angry at our "friend". I was angry at the drug. I was angry at the dealer. I was angry at myself.
The anger at my partner and "friend" were pretty much the same. It was an anger that was directed at them the whole time, because they were in a place that they didn't care about anything but the drug. I was angry at the drug for doing what it was doing to my partner, changing him into someone I didn't recognize. The dealer for the same reason. The anger toward myself was because I didn't say, "enough", or "no". I was weak and wanted to see them happy, and didn't think of the cost.


RESENTMENT - Simply resenting him because I was stuck to manage the entire financial situations with the limited funds available after money was taken and used for the drug.

GUILT - This is mine personally. The guilt is very profound. It stems from not taking a stance on the use. Not doing something sooner to prevent it. Not just saying, "NO!".

FEAR - This is a powerful one. It motivated much of my inactivity during the months. I was fearful of losing my partner if I was to say, "No more." I was fearful of violence stemming from the same. I was fearful of losing everything we owned to the drug. I was fearful that I would ultimately lose my partner to the drug.







I think the saddest thing about all of this is the fact that the one using the drugs fails to see all that is going on outside the pipe and the torch. They don't see the hurt because the drug won't let them. They don't see the dark figure looming in the background just waiting for that moment when control is lost and they are his for the taking. They don't see the pain felt by others who see them change and become distant, wanting only the drug and those who can provide it. They don't see those of us who are left to pick up the pieces of our lives because we are afraid to lose them and ourselves.

After the use stops, those of us who sat outside the pipe find ridicule when we attempt to talk about what we went through. We are blamed for making it up, that they, "weren't like that", "I didn't do that", "don't blame me or that, you did it." We aren't allowed to discuss anything we had to go through because of the blaming, anger and changes to the users mental state.

Recovery options are always available to those that have used drugs. This a good thing, however, what options are there for those of us that have stood by and had to experience, the other side of drug use and addiction?

Now my search begins for a local group centered on Traditional Witchcraft. I am optimistic that I will find one.

This is in line with my self-discovery path. I feel that this is the correct direction to take. I have my values and my core beliefs written down, but my spirituality has suffered as of late. It must be regained.

Devil is in the details.

As I "troll" (move slowly through as in fishing) through the groups I belong to I am constantly reminded of some things that are my pet peeves of sorts. So let us begin.

Number on is a big one.  It is alt"A"r. It is NOT alt"E"r. The two words aren't even similes. Stop fucking typing the wrong word. It only makes you look more of a noob.

Next is the constant posting of "blessed be" this and that. I have asked how many actually know what it means and you would have thought I shot someones cat. It is not a greeting, or an way to answer a post. It is actually incomplete as well. There is a whole chant that goes with it.

Why is everyone an empath? Oh wait that is because we are fucking human beings and by default we are empathic. If you believe you can sense the emotions of others on a somewhat deep level then explore that and if it bothers you then stop it and even shield yourself from it. Take control of it, it is your ability after all. If you can only perceive the emotional state of another person then congratulations you are no more an empath then a granite stone is a quartz crystal. The ability to sense the emotions of another human been on a level deeper then just visually is not something that you really want to be doing or brag about. It can be tiring and a bother. After 20 years of being able to do it I have finally been able to not so much shield but allow it all to come in and filter it. I can still sense it but I acknowledge it and send it away.

Harm None, Law of 3 and fucking Karma.
No, No, and only if you are Hindu.

"Kind of new to this...", no you are not kind of new, you are are either new or not.

"I don't have a clue what I am doing but I want to do this complicated ritual and raise energies to cause a huge change in the natural order of things."

While this isn't a direct quote it does summarize what I have seen in so many posts in the groups on Facebook. People, mostly kids, posting that they want to do a spell or want a spell to cause this or that but have never so much as read a book or done anything else to learn about the craft.

Negative comment. Judgement comments. "You are attacking me!!!"

What the fuck? What is a negative comment and how the fuck do you make one? Judgement comments are a part of posting on Facebook. Just by commenting you are making a judgement on whether or not to post.

Attacking? JUST NO!!!

I am sure there will be more but this is just some of it.

Cheers

The Edge of My Mortality

Recently, I have also had moments where I am sitting around and begin to think...why. Why did I have this happen to me the way it did. I wonder if I am meant to have these experiences so that I can have a better understanding of my humanity, or for me to have a closer connection to the divine in my life.

Three times in my recent life I have been brought to the edge of my mortality. Each time I dangled on the edge to look in the void beyond and wonder, "What?"

What is next? I truly do not know. I don't have any divine insight and I wouldn't want to. I do want to live my life how ever it may be with my partner and enjoy and experience what ever the Gods decide to set to our paths.

I know I am blessed. The reasons are not important. I will continue to walk my path regardless of the direction or obstacles.

A dark house…dreaming

The house is enormous, dark, and it is in my dreams.

I have not only dreamed of this imposing dwelling once but many times. Each time it is the same.

I some how know the house like a friend. I know the quiet rooms, walls covered in their ancient papers, floors of rooms covered in lush carpets, halls illuminated dimly with antique sconces and gas flames. Wood floors in hallways, polished and clean. Staircases, embellished with wooden banisters travel from floor to floor.

Each night I dream of this house I find myself wandering through the halls, from room to room, and up the endless stairs. Musty odors fill my nostrils as I tread down the dim halls. My foot steps echo through out as I make my way through the house.

I travel the same path each time I am in the house. The same halls, rooms and stairs. Each smell and sound the same. I am happy and calm as I travel the path set before me.

Finally I find the large central staircase that winds, tightly up to a single room. Slowly I climb the smooth stairs. The worn handrail smooth under my shaking hand. I realize that I am now anxious as I take step after step. Windows open to an out of focus world beyond the smoky glass. I reach the threshold of the room and find that I am not able to pass through. No obvious barrier exists but I am held out. I can see what is inside the room. All the items are familiar to me. I remember sitting in the small room and peering out the clear windows on the world outside. I remember learning things in this room and finding things too. Now the room is dark and still, dust covers the small table and chair. Cobwebs, almost as if embodying the cliche, hang from the corners and over the windows. The once clear glass, now clouded with age.

I am confused and sadden. Why am I not able to return to a room that I looked forward to being in? Night after night I return to the room and find it closed to me still, each night the room grew darker and darker.

I haven’t dreamed of traveling through the house in some time but I have the house appearing in my mind’s eye from time to time, first in vague detail and now in full detail. I used to sit and wonder during my waking hours if I will be walking through the rooms, halls and staircases or if I will be taking a different journey.

I know now that the room at the top of the house will never be open to me again. I know that the room was a place for me to learn about myself and for me to be found. I stared my path in that room and I will forever remember it even if I am not able to return to it. The house remains open to me and me open to the house; but that part will forever remain a closed part in...

A dark house…dreaming.