Depression About Surgery

scarIn August I went to the doctor to get help for an issue I was having with my parotid gland on my right side.  I had a cat scan with contrast and they found several stones and the only way that I can get them out is with surgery to remove the entire gland.  The problem is, it will leave a huge scar on the side of my face that will look like the image to the left.

Most people wouldn’t want to have a huge scar on their face of all places.  I mean, a scar on your arm or your leg or stomach is normal, but your face, that’s like the one place that you want to keep scar free.  Well, without thinking I said that if this is my only option other than living with it, then just do it because I can’t continue living with this horrible pain.

I still feel that I want to get the surgery, but I have also sort of gone into a depression knowing that I’m going to have this on my face soon.  Not only will I have this on November 20th, but I will have a tube sticking out for 7 days which means it will be removed the day before Thanksgiving.  I will have a fresh scar during the holidays.  I know that the holidays are just like any other day to me, but I still don’t understand why I couldn’t have had the surgery by now so it’s all healed up BEFORE the holidays.  I mean, this started in August and we’re in November now.

I’m sorry, I’m scatterbrained.  I’m just going through something right now.  I know it’s all mental, but still, I just don’t want to have to be out in public with this on my face for Thanksgiving, especially since we always go to a restaurant for that holiday.  I know it’s probably silly and you are thinking oh get a grip, get over it, but wouldn’t you be worried about this too?

This is going to go one of two ways, one I will be fine and I won’t think it’s that big of a deal and we will go out and eat and it will be fine.  Or, I will be so depressed that I won’t be able to get out of bed until New Years.

The issue here is this is my face, which is the first thing that people see.  People judge you as a person before they even talk to you.  I know, RuPaul says it’s none of my business what other people think of me and I usually think that too, but it’s my FACE!  Why does this have to happen to me just before Thanksgiving, or at all for that matter?

As if I haven’t been through enough in my life with being diagnosed with HIV at age 21, then upgraded to AIDS at 23, being diagnosed with having Parkinson’s, Scoliosis, being homeless as a teenager just because I was gay and being abused throughout my childhood.  It just seems like I am a target for something messed up.  Why me?  Why do I have such a messed up life?

Well, I guess I should just be thankful that I am still alive despite the fact that I was supposed to die in 2000 and nearly died in 2002 from Steven-Johnson syndrome, which is another messed up thing that happened to me lol.  Eh hem, as I was saying, at least I have a roof over my head and I’m somewhat healthy and not homeless.

I suppose it could be worse.  I could be homeless and not have any medical insurance and would have to just live with the pain for the rest of my life.  So I guess I should be lucky that I can have the surgery.  But I still can’t help but feel depressed about the scar.  UGH!  Life sucks.

Invasive Questions About Homosexuality

Interogation

I had to come out of the closet at age 17 because my  mother confronted me about it.  I wasn’t ready to come out, but apparently she was ready for me to come out.  She treated me like dirt, lower than dirt, like pond scum, no, lower than pond scum.  The disgust she had in her facial expression made me feel guilty for being gay, but I knew it wasn’t my fault because I never chose to be gay.  But that wasn’t the only time I ever had to go through that.  I had to come out to every family member.  Some of them were more accepting while others were just as disgusted as my mother was.

It is one thing to come out of the closet to your family, but why do I have to come out of the closet to every person I come into contact with?  Why is it that when I go to a doctor’s appointment and I bring up my health concerns, like my HIV, why is it that my sexuality comes into question?  I recently went to a cardiologist because I need surgery to remove my parotid gland, but in order to do that, I have to have some tests done.  So when the cardiologist read that I was HIV+ he asked me how I became HIV+, so I told him.  His response was “Oh so you’re a homosexual.”  WOW!  Yeah I’m a homosexual, so what?  What the hell does that have to do with what I am here for today?  In what world does that have to come into conversation or into question?  I am gay, not my heart and/or my blood.

A couple of weeks later I had to go back to run on a treadmill and the woman who was doing the test was making conversation.  She asked me if I had any children and all I could think was here we go again.  I responded with no.  Then she asked if I had a wife and again, I said no.  She asked if I had a girlfriend and again, I said no.  She looked at me like you are a 43 year old man without a girlfriend or wife or any children, how can that be?  I told her that I was in a domestic partnership and she asked me what that meant, and I said I was gay.

Okay first of all, she’s there to give me a test.  Her job is to put stickers on my chest with wires and then stand there at the computer pushing buttons while I’m running on the treadmill.  Why is she asking me these questions?  I know that she’s just trying to make conversation, but it made me very uncomfortable.  It’s like people make me feel bad for being gay, like I should apologize to them for being the way I am.  I should never feel bad for being gay.  It’s how I am, how I’ve always been and how I will always be and that is none of anyone’s business but my own.

After she asked me those questions, she asked me if I’ve ever been with a female and I said yes, I tried to “change” because my parents and sister and then brother-in-law were making me feel bad about being gay and constantly telling me that I was going to hell if I didn’t change.  So yes, I slept with a girl, twice.  I hated every minute of it.

I have a story about my uncle, who by the way I looked up to as a child.  He was my hero.  He hung the moon.  When I went to my aunts house when I was homeless and about to start living in a homeless shelter because my mother kicked me out of the house, my aunt called my uncle (her brother) on the phone and made me talk to him.  I was shocked and bothered by his invasive questions.  After he accused me of horrible atrocities against my parents, like beating the crap out of my step-dad which never happened, and then running away from home, he asked “How can you take it up the ass?”  My sister’s ex-husband grilled me with those same questions.  “How can you take it up the ass?”  This coming from the guy who was using the back door on my sister, and the only way I know that is because they told me, multiple times, like they were bragging about it to me.  Why the hell would I want to know that?  They both bragged to me about what a massive dick he had.  Why do I need to know that?  Which begs another question, why is it okay for them to tell me in full detail about their sex life, but if I even mentioned being gay, I was shoving my sexuality down their throats?

I don’t think that it is appropriate for people to constantly ask me these invasive questions about my sexuality.  I don’t go around asking people about their sex life, so why is it that I am shamed and made to feel guilty every time someone asks me about mine despite the fact that it has absolutely no connection to why I am seeing them, like at the cardiologist office for example.

I know that people have questions and the only way to make “them” feel comfortable with gay people is to just respond to their questions to educate them, but why am I responsible for that education?  Why can’t they just buy a book?  Here is one called 101 Frequently Asked Questions About Homosexuality.

Look, I am okay with non-invasive, non-sexual questions.  If someone wants to know something, fine, but don’t make me feel guilty about it.  The male doctor made me feel really bad when he said “Oh so you’re a homosexual.”  The woman who did my treadmill test, well she seemed a bit more accepting and didn’t really make me feel bad, but I still didn’t feel too comfortable.

One of the questions that she asked was when I knew I was gay and that is a question that a lot of people ask.  My response was this and it will always be this.  When I was about 3 or 4, I knew I was different, like in a sexual way.  In other words, I knew I wasn’t straight.  I had never seen a same-sex couple, so naturally I thought I was the only person on the planet who had feelings for someone of the same sex.  I thought there was something wrong with me which is why I kept it to myself.  When I was in the 2nd grade I had a crush on a boy in my class named Adam who lived nearby and we played together.  I had such a huge crush on him that I was dreaming about him.  It wasn’t just a dream like we’re playing in the sandbox or playing on our bikes, they were, you know… boyfriend dreams.  He was my first crush and you almost always dream about your first crush.  So that is a question I don’t mind answering because it tells people that I knew I was gay at a very young age.

Some people think that people who were abused as children become gay.  I don’t think that is true.  I was abused, but that had nothing to do with me being gay.  I mean, why would I be attracted to someone of the same gender if I am being abused by someone of the same gender?  That makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever.  I’ve known straight men who were abused by their fathers, and they never became gay.  So there is no logic in that.

Some people think that being gay is a choice and I can say with certainty that it is not a choice.  Who would choose to have people call them negative names like faggot or choose to get beat up in school for being gay?  Who would choose to be an outcast?  Who in their right mind would ever choose to be different if they knew it was going to make their life a living hell?  Nobody, that’s who.  You choose to be a vegan, you choose to drive a motorcycle as opposed to a car, you choose to wear velcro shoes, you choose your career.  You don’t choose which sexual organ you are attracted to, and you do not choose the sex of the person you are going to fall in love with.  I mean if straight people think being gay is a choice, let me ask this.  When did you choose to be straight?

I believe I was born gay.  If straight people believe they were born straight, then why do they think that I chose to be gay?  Being gay isn’t a choice, but being an asshole is.

Read this article, it tells a lot about sex organs and sexual orientation and when it happens and why.

I am all for educating people, but I don’t feel like I should be obligated to educate everyone on the planet about my sexuality.  I mean, I don’t go around asking straight people invasive questions, so why do I have to put up with it?  If someone wants to know why someone is gay, ask themselves why they are straight.  It’s the same thing.  You are straight because well, that’s just the way you are.  That’s just the way gay people are too.  I’ve been asked how I can take it up the ass, well let me ask how a straight woman can take it up the ass and how can a straight man do it in the ass to a woman?  Why is that such a hard question to ask when straight people do it in the ass all the time?  And why are straight people so obsessed with taking it up the ass?  Straight people are more obsessed with taking it up the ass than gay people are.  I mean seriously dudes, just buy a dildo and get it over with.

I am not Dr. Ruth, so don’t interrogate me about my sexuality and don’t put my sexuality into question.  Educate yourselves on your own time.