Not yet
So it’s been almost seven years … seven years since the day that I thought I was in control, the day that I thought I was the Barry big balls … the man about the scene.
No … my mistake, I followed a party girl back to a back to her friends, four straight lads, all what would seem, nice lads, I drove, I was sober, but getting there, that would change.

We arrived, we drank, I got too drunk, she left with her prize, I was left with the three others, in my head I didn’t even comprehend that I would even need to worry, I would sleep off the drinks and wake up and get into my car and drive home the hour or so …

No, it didn’t work out like that, I did wake up, or I was waken, I did look for my keys but they were gone, it was almost like I’d fallen asleep and given them time to come up with this plan … something that at the time I thought wouldn’t bother me that much but actually it sent me into a place I’d rather not visit.

So it happened and I had to drive home to my parents with the three of them still in my head and still all over me … I had to explain away the black eye and the bruises on my body, hilariously I told my catholic parents I’d been gay bashed, but in essence that what I’d thought had happened.

I never cried, not until later, I wouldn’t waste a tear on them, still wouldn’t now, what I did was eventually share to family the reason why I was acting so poorly, just to give them a glimmer of hope that I was still there … I wasn’t , but I had to give someone hope.

I slipped into drug abuse, massively, I remember being friends with a dealer and driving to collect and drop off, purely to get my own fix just so I didn’t have to be in my own head … it was great for a while, until it wasn’t, that wasn’t long. I woke up one night at a party, I was sick of the same stories, the same people, the same habits.

I’m not or ever will be fixed, but I’ve got my own control of it, yes I don’t shudder at a man’s voice anymore, I can hear my dad raise his voice at something so simple as shouting at the pets for chewing something and not want to run … but do I walk to my car with my keys raised up beneath my knuckles so I can use them … I do. Do I struggle with relationships … YES, I’ve come to realise that’s any gay man, but do I worry that I’ll always be this shell of a person who in the beginning had it so right. Honestly yes, I always worry, because I always worry that if I slip in concentration even just once, it will happen again.

By the way, I sorted myself out, became a teacher, even got into a relationship (it was always there, three years in that ended) but I’ve now started to realise that no one else can save me, I don’t know where to start, but I know, NO one else can, I just have to want to … at this present moment and of thirty three years of age … as a teacher, teaching the future I know at some point I will have to not focus on other people and re-address myself … not yet though.


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