The Best Is Yet To Come.

So I hate that I feel like I’m the least important person in my house. I’m not saying I want to be the “most” important person in my house, but it’s like the more family members move in with us, the less my opinion matters, and the more everyone acts like I’m being inconvenient. I’m just sick of being woken up to blaring Call Of Duty sound effects, then when I go down and say “hey can you turn that down, it’s literally booming through the floor” I get a look like I’m about to get killed. I’m sick of my dad staring at his computer while I’m talking, then when I’m done going “yeah, can you take the bag out of the trash?” I’m sick of the endless daily stress, and the fact that it’s never going to stop. I’m honestly just sick of life, it goes beyond all of this, I wake up every morning wondering how I’ve made it to another day.

I hate the fact that I’m looked at a certain way, but I exist in a totally different way. What I mean by that is I hate feeling as if I have to put on a show for just the smallest handful of people. I hate feeling so incredibly lost at this point in my life. I hate when somebody in the crowd mentions something I’m interested in, and I just stay quiet because nobody knows it’s an interest of mine. I hate letting opportunities slip away so casually, while I sit there reflecting on a few potential negative outcomes, not even beginning to take in the positives. I hate how I let myself go into a slump of negativity and depression, and how I used to have people I would talk to and share things with, but we completely drifted apart. I hate the memories I try to forget, and the ones I never made. I hate having to act like certain things don’t bother me when they really do. I hate not feeling comfortable with myself. I hate wondering if I’m not good enough, and I hate constantly feeling like things are going to be this way forever.

I got some questions in my inbox earlier and they got me thinking (especially given the timing) and kind of helped inspire me to do what I’m about to do. Before I start this I want to say that one of the reasons I’m doing this on tumblr is because Facebook is just a wasteland of drama, and I’m not trying to put more fuel on that fire. I don’t want to turn into gossip, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go out and show a bunch of your friends what I’m about to share, be respectful, and be glad that I’m sharing something so important with such a small group as the people who check my tumblr. This story starts out last summer, I had just graduated from the rollercoaster ride of High School a few weeks earlier, and I was just a few weeks away from my 18th birthday. As my birthday approached, my dad began having some health problems, and we found out that he had another stroke (his fourth) and might require Physical Rehab. It was scary and upsetting thinking that my dad might have to go back to PR, and that he might have to start his progress all over again, but everyone stayed strong, especially my dad. We found out a few days before my birthday that he would be able to come home on my birthday around 1PM. (Now, before this next part I just want to say that I love my dad to death and would do anything for him, but he’s not a very open-minded person about some topics) Anyway, at that point I really started thinking, I stayed up for 2 nights, tossing and turning just playing out a scenario in my head, wondering about the good and the bad, and questioning which outcome was more likely. Then finally, it was that morning, 11pm(-ish) August 7th, 2011, and I got out of bed, and walked to my parents bedroom where my mom was alone. I knocked and walked in to the expected “happy birthday” and a hug from my mom, and then after some smalltalk It got a little serious for a minute. “Mom” I said, “I have something I want to talk to you about.” “What is it?” she said, looking a bit worried. I sat on her bed, and after a moment of hesitation said “Mom, I think that I’m gay. And It’s my eighteenth birthday, and I just want to know that you still love me the same.” And she looked at me, stunned and shocked, as a million throughs scarily raced through my mind, and then after a minute she simply said to me “Of course I still love you, I’ll always love you no matter who you are or what you decide to do in life” and we both teared up, then she hugged me, and then we talked for a few minutes, and everything felt okay. At that moment I felt accepted, and it really felt amazing. Acceptance is a crazy thing, acceptance is the reason I’m doing this on Tumblr and not on Facebook and it’s the reason why I’ve never told this story to some of my closest friends, and why I’ve never told my dad what I told my mom. Oftentimes the fear of losing the acceptance of others is what holds us back from ultimately being who we really are. In the end, we shouldn’t be so focused on other peoples opinions of us, we should just be focused on being happy, and surrounding ourselves with the people that make us feel that way. Basically, if you read this and you decide to think any less of me, or you don’t want to hang out with me anymore, well that’s great because your not the kind of person I want to be around and I’m probably better off without you, I only want to surround myself with people who like me for who I am.

In the end, just remember that we are who we are, love is love, and that’s life.

What is my life?

(The answer is Tumblr, btw)

and I really don’t like it.

if so, you aren’t alone.