Coming Out

I'm not sure if this is entirely the correct place to post this, if I need to delete and move the post, I would be happy to do so. It's just as much a coming out story as it's a short biography. It's been about four years since I've come out of the closet, but I feel like I need to get my story off of my chest. I've been diagnosed with C-PTSD, and part of the recovery process is apparently opening myself up to people and talking about my experiences.

I came from a small farm town, highly conservative and highly fundamentalist in religious belief-- my family was no exception to this. I spent four years of my life in the public school system from kindergarten to the third grade. My behavior, apparently, was unusual for a boy and I was harassed most days-- "faggot," "homo," "queer," were words that I was far too familiar with for my age. I was physically assaulted on more than one occasion by my peers and all too often teachers would turn a blind eye, "kids will be kids," they would tell me. If I defended myself? I was punished.

At the start of my third grade year, my parents had a radical transition in their religious beliefs and my father concluded that he was called to be a minister. I was removed from the public school system and home-schooled throughout high-school. It was during this time that my grandfather, a WWII victim had a mental break down and I saw the worst of my family's religion. He would roll in the floor, tossing and turning, asking me all of seven years old at the time to put him out of his misery. My family concluded that this was demonic influence and proceeded to perform violent ritual like acts that badly resembled the portrayal of exorcisms that you see in some modern media. He passed away when I eleven years old-- violently on a stormy night while my family held me back forcing me to watch. There was no consolation or explanation that followed.

From the anxiety that had built over the years, both from these events and coming to terms with my sexuality-- I began having severe episodes of detachment as well as fainting spells. My family interpreted this as demonic possession and proceeded to isolate me from all outside contact and proceeded to perform the same acts on me that I had witnessed from my grandfather years earlier. I spent the thirteenth year of my life nearly completely silent, speaking only unless spoken to. I was not to have friends. I was not to talk about anything that happened. I was alone.

My sixteenth birthday came, and I was required to get a job. Given that I was home-schooled, my employer treated me like an adult and forced me to work full-time with overtime. I would suppose that I was perceived to be gay, given that I was forced to work unpaid overtime, sometimes upwards of 50 hours a week, openly harassed by managers and crew and was threatened with termination should I try to call in sick-- regardless of whether or not I possessed a doctor's excuse. I was bullied, harassed and screamed at. All factors that did not seem to apply to my peers.

I suffered a severe back injury on my job. A massively herniated disc. Work refused to file a claim, threatened to fire me. My family would not allow me to pursue medical help. It was demon influence, of course. The pain was debilitating-- by the end, I could barely walk. Once I left home and looked into treatment, neither vicodin nor morphine would stop the pain. It required surgery and I have arthritis in my back because I was forced to neglect it's treatment for such a long period of time.

On my 18th birthday, I met my boyfriend, now soon to be husband, online. I had a laptop computer that I had bought with savings from my work and was stealing wifi from the neighbors without the knowledge of my parents. We quickly fell in love, and through the utmost secrecy, I planned my escape. In a fly by night affair, I took my things and left-- and in the best and perhaps luckiest moment of my life, my partner and I found ourselves living together shortly after.

He is the light of my life, to wake up each morning and see him smiling-- it's the strongest living testament that I have to say: "It gets better." Everything that I went through, it was worth it, having found the happiness that I have now. We recently celebrated our four year anniversary, and we plan to marry, buy a home, and hopefully adopt soon.

I was forced out of the closet by a "friend" that I had made at work. From that day forward, I couldn't leave work, go grocery shopping or really do much of anything without having bigoted hicks stalking me screaming profanity. In a flashback to my childhood, I was physically assaulted on more than one occasion and the police turned a blind eye.

Suffice to say. We left. We moved to a very metropolitan area, and things have never been better since. We've never had a major issue since we've moved here.

There was a brief period where my family and I began speaking again. It was finally time to face the truth, so to speak. After years of listening to my father exclaim that "all the fags should be taken and shot"-- there were few more terrifying moments in my life. "I'm gay." They disowned me. We haven't spoken in two years. I'm not hopeful that any member of my family will fully accept me for who I am, but that is the price I've paid for my dignity, my self-respect, and I have no regrets.

 

Thank you very much everyone, your responses mean a great deal.

Dougie:
Sure, I would be happy to. Thank you!

Chip:
Yes, I am currently seeing a therapist for the PTSD and general anxiety disorder-- I plan to continue with the treatment in the future. I appreciate the advice and I strongly agree.

Yes, I plan to stick around around. I think the conversation would be therapeutic in it's own right. To be honest, it was a huge relief to get that much of the story off my chest. Thank you.