Something Off My Chest (Very Long Post)

I don't know how to start this, but I had to get this off my chest. For the couple last years I've been thinking and trying to re-construct memories from my childhood and trying to clear out things for me, like why I do certain things or why I don't do or like other things. Couple of times it has hit me hard, mostly at night where I usually slip too deep and end up eventually crying myself to sleep. Crying purifies. However it has been a while it has hit me this hard and I ended up creating an account here (could not remember the old one anymore) and sharing my world.

So to begin with I'm 22 years old and I recently, a couple of months ago, moved to my first own flat ever. I've been enjoying it so far quite nicely. My "story" you might want to call it starts pretty much when I was born. I am the youngest of 4 brothers (2 are half-brothers, 1 is "full" brother). I consider myself introvert but just now I've started to think if I really am an introvert but if I am avoiding contact because of my childhood, that I am slowly trying to construct with my memories.

Supposedly no one remembers their early child-hood very clearly, neither do I. My earliest memories are from the age of 4, when we moved from my birth-place to a few other places, eventually ended up far away from our original home. Me for around 12 years. Anyway, in our family we never talked about the past, supposedly it is very fragile topic and it is avoided, apart from my younger half-brother, who has cut out his parent (my mother and his father) from his life and doesn't want to have any contact our mother anymore. This is a key factor as for long I had had memories that I did not want to believe to be true and I could not verify them, as no one ever talked about them and I had no one to turn to.

As kid's we were beaten up, not by our father, but by our mother. My child hood memories are extremely vague and I have only a few memories of it happening but I think my unconsciousness knows a lot more than I can acknowledge. This is something I cannot verify. My parents always worked a lot (as long as I remember) and around the age of 7 my mother left and started to study. Again, this is something that I cannot verify as I was not told what actually happened back then and there's no way for me to know it. Anyway, we brothers spent most days alone and I have very very few memories of our family spending any time together at all. Yet some adult must've been present daily, I just have no memory of who it was, most likely my father.

When I was 9 my parents divorced. We were not informed about it, but one day my mother just announced that she was leaving, took one of my half-brothers with her (other one was already living on his own). I too wanted to join her (for some reason), but my father told no and I stayed with him and my brother. We were interviewed by some kind of child-support asking how we kids were doing (as far as I know). I was told by my mother not to tell anything as she had supposedly hear that the person is "a bit crazy". Back then I had no idea that this was manipulation and I never thoughts it had much impact - she lost against my father when it came down to our custody. A few years later my brother started to fail in school and he decided to move to my mother, I was left alone with my father. I guess the problems start to kick-in when I grew up a bit older, around age 15 I started to wonder why I have absolutely no idea of my past. I had these "outlines" like where I've lived but other than that I only had very specific individual memories stuck in my head but nothing that I could make a clear picture out of. I remember walking against a tree and getting a nose bleed. I remember starting a fire with a magnifying glass with my brother and stealing matches from our old neighbour. But I have nothing concrete made out in my head. At age 15 I had already "known" I was gay for a couple of years. I guess "realise" is a better word to use. So I was 15 year old closeted gay guy, no one knew I was gay and I had no one to talk to - talking never happened in our family - ever. What made matters worse was the fact that I had these "vague" memories of my childhood, for long I thought they were just my imagination and that those beatings never took place. When I was 16 I found out from my brother that they did take place and that he hated our mother for beating us. But we did not really "talk" about them, I just knew now that they did happen. But back to me. Closeted 15-year-old gay guy, unsure about his family background and no one to talk to. The words "love" or "family" were a bit weird to me: I have never seen my parents kiss or hug each other (at least I don't remember a single time of that happening).

When I sometimes did try in some way ask about how something actually happened, for example why did you break up, from my parents the answers were along the lines "I'll tell when you're older". To this day I have no answer. What answers I did get were very controversial: there's my mother's version of the story, and then there's my father's version of the story. Very different from one another and I have absolutely no way to tell who is telling the truth. I can think that "okay my father did not beat me up" but that does not ensure his version would be all true.

Most days I spent on computer playing games, sometimes alone, sometimes with my friends. I however lived quite far away from the "town" so I rarely had anyone over or visited a friend. Slowly I started to consider myself introvert, but that did not come up until I moved to my mother's place once I finished secondary school at my father's. It never came up as all my friends that i played with were also doing the same, or so I thought.

When I was 15 I moved to my mother, as the school I was going to was going to change anyway (as I completed secondary school). At the new place I made some friends, the most important ones were however girls. As I was closeted and surely did not want my family to find out I never brought a girl friend (note the space) home as it would've been considered as if she was my girlfriend or something else. To add here, my family is homophobic (again I am not sure as they're sending very mixed signals):

My brother would surely be okay with me being gay as he has some very liberal friends as far as I know. My half-brother (younger one) is quite homophobic and is very negative about gay people. My father has referred to gay people as "sick" and shown absolutely no compassion towards gay people. But it is very mixed as he has found out my browser history and mentioned it to me at least once (I was 13, I thought I was smart, yes it was gay p***). My mother is sending the most mixed signals of them all. She's told me she has gay friend(s), she's working in child-protection (yes, ironically) and has judged parents who abandoned their daughter for being lesbian, then the next day she can say "that is just disgusting" when she sees a gay man in television, or comment "that makes me feel sick" when he sees a gay couple kiss in a TV show. I have no idea what she really thinks, but as far as I know, she hates gay people. That's summary of my family's gay-views.

So now that I've moved to my own place I've started to think why I am the way I am (not going out much, not bonding with people very easily). I have friends at University (all girls) but I practically never go out. I have forced myself to a couple of events but that's pretty much it. One big factor is that I do not drink, which has to do with the fact that my younger half-brother is quite heavy-semi-alcoholic and I think my mother's relationship with alcohol is not very healthy either. However I'm getting torn apart as of late I've felt a huge desire to love and be loved by some one, meaning I'd love to have a boyfriend.

That however is anything but easy, especially for me: I have never seen my parents kiss or seem happy together, I have absolutely no idea what "love" looks like and I have no idea how "normal" people function as a family as mine has been anything but a model family. One method that I was taught up as a kid was basically "leaving me alone", make that a road-side, a parking lot or any place. Once my (I think mother, not sure if father too) got enough of me (or my brothers) they were like "fine, thats enough, out of the car" and rode away for a while and eventually came back and picked me up. I mention that as it just now hit me that such scenarios might well be a big reason why I avoid getting bonded with people. If some one who is supposed to love and care about me abandons me like that... what can a "friend" do to me? I suppose I feel fear of getting abandoned within me, but this is just speculation - I'm not a psychology professional.

Back on track. So for a couple of months I've now felt this urge to love some one. I feel desire to love, make love, be loved and just find that one person. However I don't want to "just have sex", love is essential to me (I live in this Disney Princess bubble where love is the strongest force in the universe). But that is anything but easy. How am I supposed to find a potential boyfriend when I am afraid of bonding with people. If getting abandoned is my biggest fear? And how does it work out with my family - they don't know I'm gay, then again I don't feel any need to tell them - they haven't told me about anything either.

I hope some one cared to read through this. Just had to get this off my chest. - LostBoye