The day after I finally left high school, I was queerbashed by two adults in broad daylight. I was repeatedly kicked in the groin so hard that I was hospitalised because I was pissing blood. My face looked like the Elephant Man.
There had been witnesses whom had seen the attack. It went to court, but again, I was more petrified of my parents realising why I was attacked. I was only 15 at the time. I don't know how or why I left school at 15 years old - but I did. I was attacked on May 27th 1988. Although my parents and I sat waiting in the corridors of the court-house, I was never called to the stand to give evidence - and for whatever reason, my parents appeared to have no inclination to view the proceedings. After the sentencing, they took me for a "celebratory" meal. I can still feel how it felt for me to force that food down my throat. I felt like I was eating shit. I don't mean the food was bad. I mean it was as physically hard to consume that food as it would have been if it was plates of shit on the table. I forced it down because, like I said earlier, my parents were poor My hair started falling out soon afterwards. | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
This is one of the most awful things I have ever heard. Gosh, I am so sorry people have been so cruel to you. I don't want to sit here and tell you I understand b/c I don't. This is why I constantly tell people that I truly believe you are born gay and it's not a choice. Why would anyone choose to be treated so cruelly and constantly harassed? I honestly don't understand how people can do that to someone and not feel guilty.
I have more questions if you are willing to answer... 1. Could you possibly move somewhere else and just start fresh? Maybe moving to a new community where you don't know anyone and no one knows you would help? What do you think? Maybe somewhere where there is more tolerance. 2. Do you know for sure if your parents know you are gay? Maybe they will surprise you by supporting you. Again, I know it's easy for me to sit here and come up with all these suggestions. I have two sons and I know that if either of them (or both!) come to me and tell me they are gay I'm going to hug them and say, "So what. As long as you are happy." There is nothing that will keep me from loving my child. Nothing. I will never separate myself from them. There are some really genuinely caring people here and I hope that you can get some support and encouragement here. I'm so glad you are here!!!! | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
I never went to college. I did attend the open day (to look around and enrol) but there were too many people there whom I recognised had made my life hell.
So, I worked illegally in a garden centre at the age of 15, for a pound an hour, pulling weeds and nettles out of the flower beds, all the while keeping myself to myself with my walkman permanently attached to my ears. I ended up working 50 hours a week. I bought a bootleg of The Black Album with my first wage - it was £27.00 (over half my wage). I think the garden centre job lasted a month before one of the older workers (whom had children my age) asked me about my attack and the reasons behind it. I just played dumb and pretended it was a random attack. Within a week I was "let go" by the manager whom stated that they were over-staffed. When I finally reached 16 that August, I signed up for a Governmental job programme called the Youth Training Scheme. I was paid £27.00 for 37 hours a week work. Even in 1988 this was a slave wage. It was at the diswcretion of the business you worked for as to whether or not they supplemented your wage - none ever did. I careered through a series of dead-end gopher positions with different companies - the last one being the worst. The worst experience of my life at that time. I was placed in the employ of a family firm whom videoed family events. This was back when the average video camera looked like a shoebox and cost £1000. I had to sit through hundreds of weddings whilst working there. I still hate weddings, churches and synagogues. A husband and wife ran the operation: the husband did most of the filming and post production, whilst the wife operated a store front with a sideline in personalised invitations. There were other employees whom walked in and out of the back offices during the working day, but for 90% of the time, I was alone with the husband. It started off with conversations about sex in general. This graduated to conversations about homosexuality. It escalated to the point that he'd sit on my knee when his wife was out for lunch. He probably wasn't as old as I imagined him being at that time, but now I'd say he was in his late forties. He was fat, bald and bearded. He stank of stale cigarettes and coffee. The whole building stank of stale cigarettes and coffee. One day, he groped me one time too many and I told him not to anymore. He told me that if I ever said anything to anybody, he'd tell my parents the reason why I was attacked at the beginning of the year. He apparently had a nephew whom had heard the story from somebody at college - the same college I had wanted to enrol in, but hadn't. I finally crumbled one Monday morning. I got off the bus, walked to the red front door and couldn't go in. I got back onto the next bus which arrived, went into town and told the lady at the Y.T.S. office that I wanted a transfer. She told me that I had to stick with my current placement until she found me something else - I responded that I couldn't. I remember at the time that she was the first person to suggest that my behaviour was due to an underlying "depression"... When I arived home mid-morning, my mother asked why I wasn't at work and I told her that I'd quit. My mother screamed at me that I'd turned down a perfectly good opportunity and that I was wasting my life: "You don't want to go to college... You don't want to work... I can't support you all your life"... That sort of thing. | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
Justin1972UK said: SupaFunkyOrgangrinderSexy said: Have you thought that maybe you should be alone for a while to work on yourself before jumping into any other friendship/relationships?
I've practically been alone since last December anyway. I don't mean this to sound glib but if you've ever seen that movie, 'Muriel's Wedding' where all Muriel's "friends" tell her that they don't want her around anymore, that's basically what happened to me. Nobody's said that to my face, but that's basically what's happened. To cut a very long story short (and I've told it a hundred times before) I discovered that my ex-boyfriend ingratiated himself back into my life as a way to gain revenge against one of his ex-lovers. My ex-boyfriend knew that I was linked to this person via my social circle but I was completely unaware of this - as was his ex-lover. The ex-lover in question is a friend-of-a-friend. My ex-boyfriend's ex-lover is married with one child and another on the way. To make matters worse, this third-party outwardly displayed homophobic sentiment to the point that our mutual friends would not invite me out if he was in attendance. It later dawned on me that he wouldn't want me around due to the fear of me being linked to him in some way (like I evidently was). It's a small town. When I discovered the "homophobic" closet-case's bisexuality I spoke with my (at the time) best friend about this. I was in shock and angry on so many levels. My best-friend was sympathetic but already showing signs of exasperation that I'd shared this knowledge with him... As for the ex-boyfriend, as soon as I'd rumbled his motives, he started sending threatening emails, notes through my door, texts etcetera. I spent most of last December in total darkness inside my flat, as turning any lights on would signify I was home. I didn't even put my Christmas Tree up. I made an effort to go out over the actual week of Christmas. On Christmas Eve a friend's wife told me in her kitchen that my problems were "boring her" and to "get over it". The day after Christmas, another friend of my best friend called me "a slack-jawed faggot". I threw a full pint of Guinness over his head and stormed out of the bar we were in. I wasn't prepared to be "the token fag" anymore - especially so when another of their number was on the downlow. The first indication that I wasn't part of "the gang" anymore was the first weekend after New Year's. The closet-case and recipient of the Guinness shower were invited out by my ex-best friend - but I wasn't. The friend's wife whom had earlier stated she was "bored" of my problems later filled me in on the actual guest list... Since then, I've barely seen any of these people. I've had texts, phone calls and emails. I've even met a couple of them for beers but it's not been very often at all. When I have been with these friends, there's a distance, like a glass wall between us. I'm still very bitter about the way I've been treated, but I'm not allowed to complain. I can go days without my phone ringing. The week before last, there was a silence of five days which was only broken by a wrong number. And that's just my "friends"... Where I live is a problem too. I haven't opened my blinds since the day I loved in... My job is a problem - as well as the meagre wage, it's looking like my employers have lost their main contract and I'm going to be made redundant... My sister and cousin have blabbed to other family members about things I've told them in confidence... I really do have no support from anybody. Damn. I need to win the lotto and move your ass out of that damn place! You don't need those people Justin. don't allow them to be the measure of your worth. You're so much more than they ever deserve. 2010: Healing the Wounds of the Past.... http://prince.org/msg/8/325740 | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
hokie1 said: I have more questions if you are willing to answer...
1. Could you possibly move somewhere else and just start fresh? Maybe moving to a new community where you don't know anyone and no one knows you would help? What do you think? I can't afford to move away. I can't even afford the bus to and from work at the minute. hokie1 said: 2. Do you know for sure if your parents know you are gay? Maybe they will surprise you by supporting you. Again, I know it's easy for me to sit here and come up with all these suggestions.
I was forced to say "I am gay" when I was about 23. I never wanted to "come out" as such. When I was younger this was because I was petrified of their reaction; when I was past my teens it was because I didn't feel like I should have to say "I like men". I reasoned that my sister never had to say this, so why should I? The ultimate insult was of course that they'd known all along anyway. My mother said she'd known when I was as young as eight. All that wasted energy, worrying myself to death over nothing. I wish that she'd told me. Instead, she kept up a veil of ignorance, even to the point of leaving a book under my pillow one day when I was eleven, called "Where Do I come From?" (which featured diagrams of a couple of resolutely heterosexual hippies fucking). My life would be completely different if she'd said to me one day: "When you grow up, you might like boys more than girls and that's okay". But I suppose it was a different culture back then. | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
You Are 28% Bipolar
Overall, you're a pretty stable person. You may be a bit moody, but nothing out of what's normal. As long as your emotions aren't severe, you're totally in control! Are You Bipolar? http://www.blogthings.com...polarquiz/ | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
Ex-Moderator | You Are 36% Bipolar
Overall, you're a pretty stable person. You may be a bit moody, but nothing out of what's normal. As long as your emotions aren't severe, you're totally in control! Are You Bipolar? http://www.blogthings.com...polarquiz/ |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
Justin1972UK said: I never went to college. I did attend the open day (to look around and enrol) but there were too many people there whom I recognised had made my life hell.
So, I worked illegally in a garden centre at the age of 15, for a pound an hour, pulling weeds and nettles out of the flower beds, all the while keeping myself to myself with my walkman permanently attached to my ears. I ended up working 50 hours a week. I bought a bootleg of The Black Album with my first wage - it was £27.00 (over half my wage). I think the garden centre job lasted a month before one of the older workers (whom had children my age) asked me about my attack and the reasons behind it. I just played dumb and pretended it was a random attack. Within a week I was "let go" by the manager whom stated that they were over-staffed. When I finally reached 16 that August, I signed up for a Governmental job programme called the Youth Training Scheme. I was paid £27.00 for 37 hours a week work. Even in 1988 this was a slave wage. It was at the diswcretion of the business you worked for as to whether or not they supplemented your wage - none ever did. I careered through a series of dead-end gopher positions with different companies - the last one being the worst. The worst experience of my life at that time. I was placed in the employ of a family firm whom videoed family events. This was back when the average video camera looked like a shoebox and cost £1000. I had to sit through hundreds of weddings whilst working there. I still hate weddings, churches and synagogues. A husband and wife ran the operation: the husband did most of the filming and post production, whilst the wife operated a store front with a sideline in personalised invitations. There were other employees whom walked in and out of the back offices during the working day, but for 90% of the time, I was alone with the husband. It started off with conversations about sex in general. This graduated to conversations about homosexuality. It escalated to the point that he'd sit on my knee when his wife was out for lunch. He probably wasn't as old as I imagined him being at that time, but now I'd say he was in his late forties. He was fat, bald and bearded. He stank of stale cigarettes and coffee. The whole building stank of stale cigarettes and coffee. One day, he groped me one time too many and I told him not to anymore. He told me that if I ever said anything to anybody, he'd tell my parents the reason why I was attacked at the beginning of the year. He apparently had a nephew whom had heard the story from somebody at college - the same college I had wanted to enrol in, but hadn't. I finally crumbled one Monday morning. I got off the bus, walked to the red front door and couldn't go in. I got back onto the next bus which arrived, went into town and told the lady at the Y.T.S. office that I wanted a transfer. She told me that I had to stick with my current placement until she found me something else - I responded that I couldn't. I remember at the time that she was the first person to suggest that my behaviour was due to an underlying "depression"... When I arived home mid-morning, my mother asked why I wasn't at work and I told her that I'd quit. My mother screamed at me that I'd turned down a perfectly good opportunity and that I was wasting my life: "You don't want to go to college... You don't want to work... I can't support you all your life"... That sort of thing. Man, you are really in a rough spot. The first thing I would "suggest" if I may is that you find a supportive therapist and get someone in your corner. Someone that won't judge you and who will support you. I don't know how the system works there, but there should be agencies where you can get low cost or free help based on your income. You were sexually assaulted by a grown ass man who should have known better. You didn't deserve that. I say try counseling and the meds. Maybe that will get you to a point where you are able to put a more positive spin on the future. You need to get to a point where you feel there is hope and a purpose for you being on this earth. I think the right counseling and possibly the meds can help you get there, but you must make the move to set it all in motion. You can do it! I believe in you!!! | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
hokie1 said: Justin1972UK said: I never went to college. I did attend the open day (to look around and enrol) but there were too many people there whom I recognised had made my life hell.
So, I worked illegally in a garden centre at the age of 15, for a pound an hour, pulling weeds and nettles out of the flower beds, all the while keeping myself to myself with my walkman permanently attached to my ears. I ended up working 50 hours a week. I bought a bootleg of The Black Album with my first wage - it was £27.00 (over half my wage). I think the garden centre job lasted a month before one of the older workers (whom had children my age) asked me about my attack and the reasons behind it. I just played dumb and pretended it was a random attack. Within a week I was "let go" by the manager whom stated that they were over-staffed. When I finally reached 16 that August, I signed up for a Governmental job programme called the Youth Training Scheme. I was paid £27.00 for 37 hours a week work. Even in 1988 this was a slave wage. It was at the diswcretion of the business you worked for as to whether or not they supplemented your wage - none ever did. I careered through a series of dead-end gopher positions with different companies - the last one being the worst. The worst experience of my life at that time. I was placed in the employ of a family firm whom videoed family events. This was back when the average video camera looked like a shoebox and cost £1000. I had to sit through hundreds of weddings whilst working there. I still hate weddings, churches and synagogues. A husband and wife ran the operation: the husband did most of the filming and post production, whilst the wife operated a store front with a sideline in personalised invitations. There were other employees whom walked in and out of the back offices during the working day, but for 90% of the time, I was alone with the husband. It started off with conversations about sex in general. This graduated to conversations about homosexuality. It escalated to the point that he'd sit on my knee when his wife was out for lunch. He probably wasn't as old as I imagined him being at that time, but now I'd say he was in his late forties. He was fat, bald and bearded. He stank of stale cigarettes and coffee. The whole building stank of stale cigarettes and coffee. One day, he groped me one time too many and I told him not to anymore. He told me that if I ever said anything to anybody, he'd tell my parents the reason why I was attacked at the beginning of the year. He apparently had a nephew whom had heard the story from somebody at college - the same college I had wanted to enrol in, but hadn't. I finally crumbled one Monday morning. I got off the bus, walked to the red front door and couldn't go in. I got back onto the next bus which arrived, went into town and told the lady at the Y.T.S. office that I wanted a transfer. She told me that I had to stick with my current placement until she found me something else - I responded that I couldn't. I remember at the time that she was the first person to suggest that my behaviour was due to an underlying "depression"... When I arived home mid-morning, my mother asked why I wasn't at work and I told her that I'd quit. My mother screamed at me that I'd turned down a perfectly good opportunity and that I was wasting my life: "You don't want to go to college... You don't want to work... I can't support you all your life"... That sort of thing. Man, you are really in a rough spot. The first thing I would "suggest" if I may is that you find a supportive therapist and get someone in your corner. Someone that won't judge you and who will support you. I don't know how the system works there, but there should be agencies where you can get low cost or free help based on your income. You were sexually assaulted by a grown ass man who should have known better. You didn't deserve that. I say try counseling and the meds. Maybe that will get you to a point where you are able to put a more positive spin on the future. You need to get to a point where you feel there is hope and a purpose for you being on this earth. I think the right counseling and possibly the meds can help you get there, but you must make the move to set it all in motion. You can do it! I believe in you!!! I do too! 2010: Healing the Wounds of the Past.... http://prince.org/msg/8/325740 | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
A big to you, Justin. You deserve it.
FREE THE 29 MAY 1993 COME CONFIGURATION!
FREE THE JANUARY 1994 THE GOLD ALBUM CONFIGURATION | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
I use Lexapro and Valium, but as for the quiz 8%- I have situational depression. Socks still got butt like a leather seat... | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
I don't think so, but I do veer from placid to pissing fire when I spot another self-satisfying internet survey. | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
Justin1972UK said: The day after I finally left high school, I was queerbashed by two adults in broad daylight. I was repeatedly kicked in the groin so hard that I was hospitalised because I was pissing blood. My face looked like the Elephant Man.
There had been witnesses whom had seen the attack. It went to court, but again, I was more petrified of my parents realising why I was attacked. I was only 15 at the time. I don't know how or why I left school at 15 years old - but I did. I was attacked on May 27th 1988. Although my parents and I sat waiting in the corridors of the court-house, I was never called to the stand to give evidence - and for whatever reason, my parents appeared to have no inclination to view the proceedings. After the sentencing, they took me for a "celebratory" meal. I can still feel how it felt for me to force that food down my throat. I felt like I was eating shit. I don't mean the food was bad. I mean it was as physically hard to consume that food as it would have been if it was plates of shit on the table. I forced it down because, like I said earlier, my parents were poor My hair started falling out soon afterwards. man that is just so terrible to read... ... i am really sorry to hear all that. i sincerely hope things get better for you soon. please don't get down on yourself... some people will just never understand. .. as humans i think we often feel a social pressure to sell ourselves short, but our worth is actually significantly greater than we often tell ourselves. just reading this made me remember how truly awful some people can be, for example... ... but how valuable it is that there are many more like yourself who aren't like this. man, my words seem inarticulate to me right now but take special care of yourself and good things WILL follow [Edited 8/1/07 8:37am] | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |
Justin - a million and and . I am so very sorry you had to grow up in a narrowminded community like that, you had your hell like I had mine. I hope you take this advice from somebody who's been there even though in my case it was all about the family and drug abuse, it's pretty much the same:
- You need to break all connections with your parents. They're not doing you any good, just like my dad wasn't doing me any good cos he wouldn't respect me for who I am. You don't need to live in their shadow. As bad as your family's treated you it's scarry as hell to let them go but you'll be so much better off once it's done. You deserve respect from EVERYBODY around you. - Like somebody suggested, you really need to make a fresh start. I don't know how much if at all you've made rl connections from people you got to know from the Org, but this is a time to utilise this - perhaps somebody could set you up with a job, or somebody would share a flat with you so you can find a job in peace, or even, heaven forbid, go back to school. Even if it doesn't feel like it to you in the place you're in right now, a lot of things and attitudes have changed since you last went to school. I'm absolutely confident that you would find university a great place to be now. Also there are student loans, make the leap and just go somewhere else - if you feel you need a security net there are gay communities at every uni imaginable these days, where you'll be the norm and not the exception. You CAN do it! If you ever want to talk about this I'm more than willing to lend a couple of eyes on the screen or an ear on the phone even though we don't know each other YET. Lots of love and again know that you are worth respect, love and appreciation for who you are no matter who that happens to be. / Jen | |
- E-mail - orgNote - Report post to moderator |