Sexual Assault; video awareness.

So before you watch these videos, I did a random search on you tube for rape an sexual assault, the results were not as massive as I though they may be, but I took what I could grab to re post here before I go to class this morning. I feel it's important throughout this contest that I also show some videos and share some music. The first video here is a PSA about date rape and it was made by a few students. The second video is a collection of art and music which highlights rape within a marriage (yes unwanted sex in wed lock is rape too), and finally I thought I would share a video by Tori Amos called "Me and a Gun", which documents Tori's own experience with sexual violence and assault. So please watch, please thing and please make a donation to RAINN during sexual assault awareness month.

Sex, School And a Rant.

Right now I don't know what to say. I am supposed to be going back to school and nobody can truly know why it is that I am back in. I am going back to school at the moment because my boyfriend has taken my by the hand to do so. My mother just finished yelling at me for taking classes which are too easy, my H.S. Tutor/adviser yelled at me this morning for not going to classes from the day they began and I am yelling at myself for not being a man and taking my own direction.

I am tired of lying to my mother about the life that I am living. I ended up gettin defensive and telling her something along the lines of "you don't know the first about my life so you have no right to yell at me for the classes that I am taking.". Hell I even had to lie to her that financial aid came through because I had to have a cover story. I am tired of the lies, you have to create lies to cover lies and now I am so buried within lies that I can't even stand straight.

I feel like I am trying to please everybody else but my self. It's starting to kill me because I don't know what I want anymore. I am living a double life. To my mom I am the son who's living "on his own" for the first time. To my boyfriend I am me. To my sister I am stressed out all the time and to my family I am "busy". But I can't be all of these people any more, I don't think that I can lie about it. I am so afraid of what everybody will think about my sexuality that I can't even begin to accept myself for who I really am.

I can't even have sex without feeling some kind of hell fire biting me in the ass. I've been taking confirmation classes to become a fully baptized and "sainted" Catholic, and yet here I am fucking my boyfriend after mass. I remind myself of that old school Bon Jovi video where the young girl goes to mass in the morning and ends up fucking a guy in the back of a car by nightfall. I just don't know what is wrong with me. Why are we made to feel so shamed for our sexuality. Gay, straight, whatever; "sex is wrong" and we are to "repent" from the sins of the flesh if we are to go to heaven. If Adam had not fallen for eve and all that crap. I'm just confused, and I feel so ashamed for the life I'm living.

I apologize to the readers out there who are wondering why I am so angry at the moment, but I really do feel like I am going to burn in hell for having a sex drive (and I've kept it LOW for sake of keeping those gates closed). Last night my boyfriend and I were about to go to bed when suddenly we started to fool around. At some point I asked him if he wanted to have sex and he said yes. So I got the condoms out (I believe in SAFE before regret and worry) and I began to do the dirty. I swear to god I lasted 2 minuted before I came because in the back of my head I was going "Oh you are going against the teachings of the church you son of a bitch, you hypocrite, you heathen". The nerves alone made me finish long before I was ready to and that's just a shame!.

I feel like if you are going to enjoy sex, you have to cut yourself off from your spiritual/religious self. It's like you can't just have sex and enjoy it without feeling conscious of it at all times . Lord knows the paradox arrives when I am having sex with my partner and I am worrying about the motion and how well I am pleasuring his body and what not. Which brings me to my next point, which I have discussed before. I feel as though I am kinky by nature because I am afraid to be a sexual being and a human being at the same time (yes we know they are the same, but I do feel as though I am two halves here). So I like it rough, and I like to tease and I like to play the "you cant touch me, but I can touch you" game.

It's just...... why so much guilt God?, why do I feel like sex is a "pagan" act?. Why do I feel as though I am doomed to hell by expressing myself within a committed and healthy relationship. Homosexuality aside, why do I feel this?. Is it because deep inside I "know" it's "wrong"?. Or is it because I was taught it to be wrong ?. And will there be forgiveness at the end of this class ?. I just don't understand, and with my confirmation coming this weekend (Sunday) I am especially counting all of my sins because I am about to confirm myself within this church that teaches these morals. And that's why I do not feel worthy of confirmation because I am not living by their set of morals anymore.

Please visit Kapgar for more information on the current blog contest that my blog is a part of, and consider a donation to RAINN during sexual assault awareness month. Thank you :).

Abuse has many faces.

*Note that this blog took 3 days to finish due to schedule conflicts choppy as it may be, it's been a bitch to get it right because I'm an Irish LEO and I want to say it all !*

It may be suggested that as children we are completely submitted to our personal will. Rarely do we think about the consequences of the many wild actions and words we perform and speak. But when I was young, there were ramifications such as my father's anger (un)management issues which taught me early on that it was not OK to express my emotional and physical needs before others, and that often times would result in receiving abuse, which ends the process in fear. I went on for about 17 years of my life that way until my father finally moved out on the family in 2001. Unfortunately as soon as my father the tyrant left the picture, the mother beast came walking into the room with a bottle of gin and a lifetime of guilt to follow.

My mother had been in recovery for about 13 years until she went to this wedding, which my dad was once again being an ass, and in the end she lost her sobriety. At first I did not really care because I had not really remembered what it was like as a child to have an alcoholic mother. My sister however knew exactly what we were all in for and took it with a slash to the heart. The years which followed that wedding showed me what true alcoholics will do in order to daily re victimize themselves.

There is a great selfishness that supports addiction. It is a mind frame which an individual believes that they are so powerless, so angry and so low that they won't come back up to surface again. Often times these people bring their friends and family down hill with them. To be the child of an alcoholic creates a sense that your own emotional needs and desires mean nothing in comparison to your parents pain and suffering. Personally, this seed was planted in me years ago and I am still learning about how to kill the weed I know as Co-dependence.

Victimization is one of the many emotional responses to trauma. I've dealt with years of on again/off again depression. I found anorexia to be the key which allowed for control to come back in to my life during a time when I felt there to be no other way out. There have been days which I've entered into the "death" mind frame, but never once have I desired to give up. The reality is that my mother is an alcoholic, she is sick, but I do not have to be isolated in order to be safe; I finally decided to no longer entertain her misery and self inflicted suffering, and I began to wake out of the slumber of my mother's suffering.

Being the child of an addict often results in feelings of inadequacy, separation from peers and the enhanced sense of being responsible for other people's actions. When I finally left my mother's house to return for California in 2003 - 2006 I began the journey of my own self discovery. When one lives under the roof of their parents for so many years it has a tendency to control and direct our life experiences. Sexually I had never been with anybody, I had never done any drugs, I had never been drunk, I had prided myself on being "good" because being fully responsible was the complete opposite of my Mother's example during those years.

My obsession with being pure and beautiful would lead me toward more power struggles within myself. I starved in order to feel beautiful. Beauty was something that I did not feel was accessible because I had no sense of who I was. I'd hit myself in the face just to destroy what looks I did have, the same looks that I had no control over. The anger that I was feeling toward my mother, toward my life and toward my family; I turned inward. The act of turning anger inward is defined as depression.

I've spent the past 3 or more years in an on again/off again relationship with depression. There have been days that I would keep the curtains closed and throw a blanket over my head. My friends would try and take me out for the night, to a movie, out for a drink or to a casual party; but I would remain indoors because I felt trapped in my own flesh and in my own head. I was so angry but I knew that I could not express this anger in a healthy way I.E. "Mom I feel angry because __". The reason that I could not express myself to my mother was for the same reason that I never confronted my father on his rage problems; there is always a consequence.

So in turn, I decided to take my anorexia, my self degradation and my low self image out the door and I traveled about town flaunting it to others. Low self image tends to bring the dogs out of the pound for a great mating season. For so long I had been a single, lonely boy who had never been kissed, and suddenly I started to experiment sexually. In a naive state of mind, I would hope for commitment in these "relationships", but would receive abasement and sadness.

They would treat me like a prince only to dump me a week later, they would openly make fun of me, cheat on me and betray my body just for entertainment. And at the end of it all, I would allow them to stay in my life as "friends" because I did not want to be alone. I would always hope that some day they might realize the wrongs that they committed against me and apologize for them. But in the end it was I who would have to re claim my body and re claim my self through demanding them to listen and to rebuke them from my life for good.

By voicing myself and telling them how I felt, the embarrassment, the anger and the emptiness that they'd left me with I took my voice back. They of course did not care at all, in fact they went on to spread rumors about me to other friends in our "circle". So what I decided to do was change my circle of friends, and by doing so I supported myself with strength and a new opportunity for healthy friendships and relationships. Abuse comes in so many different forms, the most tragic abuse however is the abuse that we commit to our selves in response to the abuse that others have set against us. Let not your voice be silenced, stand up for yourself and be strong.

This blog was written to raise awareness for the survivors of sexual assault during sexual assault awareness month. If you have been, or if you know anyone that has been assaulted sexually please show your support to my blog and to yourself or loved ones by making a donation to RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest,National Network)

Sexuality And (This) Catholic's Misconception.

"Irish Catholic" The words alone bring to mind years of sexual confusion and repression. As a young man raised within the Catholic church I am still learning about my own sexuality. The simple truth is this, we (Catholics) are not proud of sex, we do not even .... enjoy it, it's something that we believe is to create new life. And if you are a homosexual Catholic - oh honey you've got some kinda new hell casted guilt to drive you out of your mind. But for now let's focus on what it was like for a child like me to grow up Catholic, and how that upbringing has brought me to the place I am today.

So here is something funny that I just now learned . . . The Sixth commandment teaches us not to kill, and this whole time I was under the impression that it commanded us not to commit adultery. Somehow I received the sixth commandment as the "sex one", and it has absolutely nothing to do with sex !!!!!. So here is what this means to this Catholic. Since I was the age of fourteen I have been going to confession. Its a dark box in the middle of a church where you kneel at the foot of Christs blood and confess your wrong doings to a consecrated man that gives you absolution when complete. For most people this is a very intimidating moment; for me, it's a free counseling session.

I remember preparing for my first confession. Unlike most traditional Catholic children, I had not received my first reconciliation before first holy communion. So when I had mentioned this to my private school teacher (who is a very, very devout Catholic) she immediately set up an appointment for confession at St. Albert's monastery with Fr.Yankov (an older priest from Germany). Now confession recalls for us to "examine the conscience", so to help me with that Vicki gave me a little hand out called "Examination Of The Conscience". This little paper listed each of the Ten Commandments and broke them down into mini sins.

Now perhaps it was my nerves which lead to the misunderstanding that I am about to describe. But within the last five to ten minutes (in preparation to write this blog) I have learned that the "Sixth Commandment" is not the commandment which advises us to prevent "Sins of the flesh" through adultery but rather the commandment which demands us not to kill or slay thy neighbor. The funny little fact about this ..... is that for years I have been going to confession to confess "Committing the sixth commandment against myself and against others". To which the priest always goes awkwardly silent or coughs.

All these years I've thought that the big no no sin (adultery) was the 6th commandment when in truth I was completely wrong all along and now as I sit here typing this out, I laugh because it's absolutely ridiculous to have gone along all of these years repenting from "The Sixth Commandment Against Myself And Against Others" in order not to say the words, "Father I have Masturbated, and I am having sex with my boyfriend". So instead I've got priest from across the west coast line believing that I am a serial killer instead of an adulterer .

Catholics like myself do very odd things in order not to feel as though you are smacking The Lord in the face. For example if I am fooling around with my boyfriend, I will swiftly but not obviously pull my crucifix from my neck and set it aside my bed. There was one time recently when I forgot to take it off, and my boyfriend came on it and .... I sort of felt like I'd just damned myself. In my personal experience as a sexually active Catholic, I've had to separate my sexual being from my religious/spiritual being. It's almost as though there are times when I have to play the role of the "whore" in order to be sexually assertive.

Catholics in bed are like bunny rabbits out of a cage. When the camera's are off, the show gets real. The idea that I identify with having two separate beings (sexual vs spiritual) makes it easier to have sex without feeling like I am about to send my ass to hell. The fact that I am gay is a whole different examination of conscience to examine later. But for now I will continue on with the fact that I am still uncomfortable with sexuality in general. I am still learning how to re sex the self that has always believed sex was immoral, wrong and unjust. It's an every day process to believe in myself enough to go ahead with it and "get it on".

For those of you who are still reading, please show the staff over @ RAINN that you support sexual assault awareness through the month of April by making a Donation or by visiting my friends over at KAPGAR to show that you are aware that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month.

April Is Sexual Assault Awareness Month.

Hey there, I've got some really exciting news to share with you (who may or may not be reading this, I really don't know how many hits I receive here). I have been selected by the crew over at KAPGAR to write about my sexual history per se during this month. I am both excited and honored to be a part of this awesome experience as I hope to donate my voice toward celebrating sexuality and raising awareness to those who have survived sexual violence.

Now It has been about 3 days into the month now and I am just now sitting down to write my first post. I sort of hate that missed out on two whole days of this contest. I am hoping to gain a few readers who will perhaps relate to my stories and experiences, and maybe even find a moment to post comment or share their own story back. Once again, when Kevin over at Kapgar.com emailed me to let me know that my blog was approved for the contest - I was jumping up and down.

So I guess this sort of leaves me to tell you little bit about myself. Normally I try my best to remain anonymous on this blog, being that I escape to this place in order to write out all of my little secrets and the true feelings that I have about life, experiences, friends and family. I started this blog last summer after jogging all over the internet to find the perfect host. I decided to write over here at Blogger when I had taken notice to Tori Amos posting her blog "Clyde Speaks" (a blog to support the theme to her album "American Doll Posse").

I have been faithfully following the work of Tori Amos since 1993 when I discovered a "funny looking" red head on my television set. This was probably about an hour before I was set to go of to the prison I would call "St.Leo's Catholic School" Grade 3 with Ms.Donnely. The character on the television set was singing something about cornflakes. . . and being that I was eating a bowel as she sang it, I thought it was kinda funny. My sister on the other hand could not stand the song and claimed that she was a "bad woman" and that I needed to turn the channel before I get in trouble. I went to school that day singing a song about cornflakes, which would stick with me for the years to follow.

In 1993 I must have been about ..... seven years of age or so. My home was always in dysfunction. My father had major anger issues and my mother never really did anything but argue with him when the pot boiled my father's rage in the kitchen for dinner. My childhood was surrounded by "emotional violence". I grew with an every day tyrant that was my father's anger issues. In his youth my father had been through various foster homes, orphanages and centers for young men. His mother had abandoned him at the age of three, only to retrieve him some years later. It was during those "lost" years however that he had been sexually molested by a group of women within foster home.

Although he finds it hard to examine today, I believe that my father still harvests resentment, anger and dislike for the reasoning behind his mother abandoning him for "another marriage". He never seemed to truly unmask that pain, he never really seemed to admit the true emotions behind his rage or perhaps to shine some real light upon the feelings surrounding his early childhood sexual victimization. I do believe that he turned his feelings inward toward lust and denial.

I was about 8 or 9 when I first discovered that my father had an addiction to pornography. I had been rummaging through our basement when I opened a box that had some kind of image of a woman opening her genital area with this incredibly disgusting look on her face . It confused the hell out of me because I did not really know how all of that had worked yet. The most sex education I'd had up until that point was from the night that my father interrupted an episode of Clarrissa Explain's It All to tell me about how . . . "On a very special day, your mother and I went to the doctor's to make a baby." he continued to tell me that "The woman lies on a table and opens her legs and the man lays on top of her. There is doctor in the room to make sure that the baby reaches the woman so that she can have a baby" and that "It feels Sooooooo good". This is of course the way that his explanation remained within my young brain.

Sex is obviously fascinating to children as we all naturally want to know how we got here. Being raised by my mother as a Catholic, I was generally kept in the dark about how sex really worked, what the science of sex was and how a man and woman come together to make a new life cell. It was thanks to my aunt Eileen who took my cousin and I aside one day (with my mothers permission) to straighten out our idea's of sexuality. It is natural for boys to become curious about how sex works. We have an idea about how fun it is to touch ourselves; but we don't really know how it all works when we are around the age of 8-9.

My aunt straightened out the idea that my father had given me, but once again reinstated the idea that sex only happens during a "very special time" during two people. This really made me go back to the idea my father had given me that you have to schedule out a sex appointment!. I did not really understand why you would have to schedule something like sex. Here is my tip to all parents or guardians when teaching your children how sex works - do be careful how you compose your words because it's really not easy piecing sex together from your original ideas - to how it really works.

Today I am 23 years of age and I've experience loss, gain, trust, distrust, abuse, longing for love, friendship, betrayal and coming to terms with myself. In the end I am still quite naive when it comes to sexuality. I have a lot more skin to fill in order to truly embrace my being and walk with my head high above churches, haters and even my own family. I am a gay male who is still questioning himself for the paths he's taken to get where he is today. I am a Domestic Violence advocate at WomenSpace. I am a human, My mother, my friends and my family have survived sexual violence, and I encourage you to come back and read more at Boy Disappearing to show your support for Sexual Assault Awareness month.

I have so many more stories about how I've come into my own sexuality, I can't wait to re explore the past and share with you all the present of my sexual chronicles. I was taught as a Catholic that you are to put clamp on sexuality, this is something that I m still getting through. I look forward to doing some research and to write out all my my thoughts on various sub topics of sexuality. Once again I encourage anybody who's reading this to head on over to The Rape Abuse & Incest Nationl Network (RAINN) to show your support of my blog or make a donation for Sexual Assault Awareness Month. Link them to this blog and tell them what you think. Also visit my buddies @Kapgar.com for more info on the 2008 blog contest. Thanks to everyone who has read my blog in the past and welcome to all of those who are just now tuning in. Be well.


-S

We built this city on anger.

Right now I just need to write this out because it's hurting me not to at least acknowledge the pain. This weekend my boyfriend and I took a trip to the city to get away from all of our smaller town woes and just relax. He got us this beautiful Hotel room which is very mod and chic. In fact I am drawing a lot of inspiration from this room, and I want to bring that style back into my own apartment when we return back to E-----e.

Last night J. and I went to a local Dyke bar to support a new friend that we had made through a mutual friend. The bar was a smoky little dive with tons of drag kings and harsh looking women who ended up being very supportive of us "men" being in the building. After a good long round of drinks and Karaoke it was time for us to return to our Hotel room and get some sleep. I was pretty much sober but my boyfriend was hammered. I did not let him know however; that I was indeed sober again, because I was trying to avoid his very typical "are you mad at me" conversation.

By the time we'd hit the corner, he was refusing to call a cab and suggested that we walk our way back to the hotel. At this point I knew that we were miles across town and that walking would not be a good idea because we don't know the city. This is when he began to pull out some harsh attitude with me and tried to start a fight. I did not respond accordingly to what I was feeling on the inside at that moment because it would have resulted in him confronting me with questions that have no right answer; no matter how easy they may be.

I had suggested that we were heading in the wrong direction and that we needed to stop, and this is when he turned to me and began yelling at me saying that "Don't FUCKING tell me I'm wrong, when I know that I'm right, you always do that to me . . . I'm SMARTER Than you and you and you need to shut up", it was at this point that I began to feel some "fight" in me but decided not to defend myself, the most that I did was ask him to please "Stop yelling at me". I had to repeat this about 6 times before he firmly grabbed at my wrist [enough to hurt and startle me] for about a few seconds and say once more that I'm not as smart as him so I needed to stop talking.

The rest of the wait for our taxi was spent by me pretending to feel safe, and pretending to be happy. This morning as I woke next to him I did not feel as safe as I normally do. I feel hurt and I don't think that he will accept what I have to confront him with on this case. Generally as it has been explored in this scenario; my boyfriend hates to be "wrong". And when we argue - I generally have to back down because he will not see his actions clearly. It feels as though I am the one who is expected to make changes, and I am the one who gets "called out" for my quirks, and I am the one who has to make it right.

Last night is nothing new, we go through some form of confrontation every time he drinks. The last time that got really drunk however; he decided to judge me and make me feel somewhat less than human, and he yelled at me for being too drunk [which I was] but when I needed his support the most - he felt justified in not lending a hand to me. So where's the balance in this ?, somehow I am starting to feel taken for granted, like he thinks that it's alright to yell at me the way he did last night, and not at least apologize or make corrective action to make it right again. Am I dealing with an age difference here?, what makes it right for me to feel this way? do I have to keep this hurt a secret once more in order to keep the peace ?. What am I to do?.

It's hard when you love somebody, but you begin to feel as though you are "expected" to be perfect. And when you give and give and give - what's stopping that person from expecting to receive again, and again. I ask for three basic components, Honor, Respect, and loyalty. I believe that these things create the formula for a real love. So what do you do when you are beginning to feel constantly insulted, on the edge ["is he going to cheat?"], scared to express your feelings, or terrified that he'll ignore you for the night when you do express yourself.

I do not want to write this blog however; without saying how much I do love J-. He does surprise me with kisses, and he does hold me when I cry. He does express the little things which make us all feel special. And I do love him, some how the first day we met I knew this. But I think that he has a lot of anger inside of him which tends to lash out toward me. And now that we are living together, I feel it a lot more than I did when we were in separate apartments. We have gone through a lot together so far, and the thought of losing him feels like a cut to the chest.

So I'm at a slight bit of a draw here, and I don't know what to do about it. He was drunk - so I can't exactly hold him fully accountable for his actions. I feel like if he were sober then maybe I would be able to hold him at full responsibility. But then again, we are all held accountable for our actions, and he would confront me or cuss me out if I did the same thing to him as he did unto me last night. I can not clean this mess, for he is the one who could not stop at one drink. And it hurts me to say that here, I do not mean any harm to him when I say that. I am not suggesting anything by saying that - but I need to stand up for myself here and not fix his error. Especially when I was the one that fell some what victim to his anger.

I'm Just Having Thoughts . . .

Let me breathe -


This past week has been nothing less than pure stress, and today I am in dire need of personal time. I need to do the things that I love to do without obligation to anybody else. I need to just go for a long walk without a curfew, I need to go to a bar without fear of being called out for being too drunk. I just need a little bit of me time to rejuvenate my inner self and my soul.

At the present moment, I am somewhat apprehensive about returning back to my home which I now share with my boyfriend. There are times when I need alone time, and that is now a place where I cannot attain that. I love my boyfriend, I would do anything for him, and I truly believe that we are of the few successful gay couples in this town. But like any other person, I would be a liar to myself if I said that I did not need my own time every now and again.

The problem is that from time to time I feel like I am constantly accounting for my actions and my whereabouts. If I come home later than I anticipated (generally due to catching rides from my sister) I tend to receive the 'silent treatment' from my boyfriend who does not like it when I am late to arrive for an evening at home. But sometimes I want to stay with my mother, and sometimes I just need to be away from my house and that is perfectly reasonable. Thing is that I am too afraid to request this, because my boyfriend says "You're leaving me again for the whole day", and those words are powerful and make me feel like a real jerk.

With the constant stress of following through for him, I also have the added stress of accounting to my mother why it is that I am always in such a rush home on Sunday's. She still knows nothing of the fact that I have a boyfriend and is still under the impression that I am living alone. The lie that I've given her is going to hurt when brought to truth, and that is something I am having a hard time coming to terms with. My boyfriend is beginning to resent that fact that he is still unknown to my mother which makes me once again feel like the bad guy in this big picture. I am living a triple life here and it's really getting to me. But I need not be judged for the choices that I make, and I need not be held accountable for the needs that I have. I need to be respected and honored for the few needs that I ask for.

I really love my boyfriend, last week he ended up in the Hospital for a stomach related illness which had him in excruciating pain. The though of him in pain, and me not being able to fix it really scared me. When it was all over I ended up breaking down in tears in his arms because the thought of losing him or the thought of him being so scared and alone in his pain, scared me and made me feel helpless. I love him, I want to be there for him, I want to take his pain away, I want to heal him. Since the day that I met him, I knew that I wanted to protect his heart - it's something that I'd never felt before for another person. I genuinely care about him, and I have made many life changes based on his needs. I only feel it to be fair that he understand my needs, and that he value them as well.