gaycarebear
New member
Honestly, you guys are like family, so I decided to share something rather personal.
My reflection on 2012:
2012 was a monumental year.
When things began to be a promising journey down a path of success, I was sideswiped by a tragic turn of events. One thinks things should be a certain way, when, in fact, they are just not meant to be. There are signs you can look for. The way the steam rises from the blacktop. The way the doorman sneaks a look at you as you stumble in blind drunk from the street. Or the way the subway whizzes passed you without slowing down, leaving you stranded in the dank underground for what seems like another lifetime. All these things are miniscule, yet are profoundly significant. They all lead up to the moment you decide to take responsibility for the whirlwind around you and decide to jump headfirst into the oncoming traffic...it's that simple.
Or is it?
I don't know. I'm still figuring all that out.
2012 was...lifechanging for me.
As most of you know, I moved to New York City at the first of the year after I landed a pretty awesome internship in Manhattan. It was posh, extravagant. I attended press events, treated like royalty...treated like I was Taylor Swift. I was escorted in and out of the crowds like some self-absorbed queen. I got passes for interviews. Everything seemed grand. I was on top. I had never felt such importance in my life before, and I never wanted it to end. However, that is the precisley the time I tumbled from greatness...or rather, the illusion of greatness. Before I knew it, the internship had come to an end and no job off in sight. I turned away from that 5th Avenue stonewall building onto the bustling street, unsure of what to do next. The next few months flew by in a bloody fury of panic and sadness. I even went to an abandon soup kitchen a time or two, grasping at straws. Not the colorful kind that are used at birthday parties...the faded feces-laden straw that lines barns at the local state fair. Trampled on by horses.
Before I knew it, it was July and I had not been offered a job. I mean, I must have applied for over 100 different positions, ranging from administrative assistant to editorial intern to cashier at the grocery store around the block. Nothing came my way. It was a bad stink, left at the back of my throat as I packed up my things to once again, head back to West Virginia with my head hung low and my spirit shattered. Ironically enough, my grandmother had passed away that same week. Fate was trying to tell me something. Death, a force within itself that has the power to control the seasons, had pulled me in to take advantage of a broken being.
That was the day I was fed to the sharks...my family. Within a month of living there again, I quickly knew that the only satisfaction they sought was seeing my fail and need their help. They thrived in it. They didn't care that my body was rotting from the inside out or that my heart was bleeding profusely at my fingertips. They need to drink up the colorful liquid to sustain any sense of accomplishment. I fought hard against their manipulative ways to find myself once again. Days would go by that I would wish death upon my brain, for the pain to stop thick in my arteries and clog up on central nervous system...
Deep down, though, I knew that wasn't the way things were supposed to be. I have, sort of, always known that. Every time I have returned (this makes the second long-term "visit"), I have been force-fed a much-needed lesson. It's not that I don't like to eat my vegetables, I do, but to eat them after they've rotted in the pit of my stomach is another story. After holding down the poison, I said what I had always been thinking, that my family is nothing but a self-centered masicistic group of individuals who have nothing better in life than to suffer and make those around them suffer.
With that, I left for the last time. Thanks to a gracious friend, I have found a temporary home. It's not where I belong, but it is a safe haven for now. I am able to breathe and think and live and listen to everything around me. I feel change whittling under my skin and I will be there when it breaks the surface. I can't be anywhere else but in the here and now.
So, as a new year begins tomorrow, so does a new Jason. Someone unafraid of taking risks, taking chances, making a move to something greater and more fantastic. I know I won't want to miss a beat. In 2012, I vow to listen to more music, drink more drinks, eat more food, live more life. Why should I stop being me for the sake of my detractors? I'm not. That's no way to thrive.
Will you join me?
XOXO,
Jason
https://www.facebook.com/notes/jason-scott/were-you-blown-away-by-2012-a-reflection/10151316780082768
My reflection on 2012:
2012 was a monumental year.
When things began to be a promising journey down a path of success, I was sideswiped by a tragic turn of events. One thinks things should be a certain way, when, in fact, they are just not meant to be. There are signs you can look for. The way the steam rises from the blacktop. The way the doorman sneaks a look at you as you stumble in blind drunk from the street. Or the way the subway whizzes passed you without slowing down, leaving you stranded in the dank underground for what seems like another lifetime. All these things are miniscule, yet are profoundly significant. They all lead up to the moment you decide to take responsibility for the whirlwind around you and decide to jump headfirst into the oncoming traffic...it's that simple.
Or is it?
I don't know. I'm still figuring all that out.
2012 was...lifechanging for me.
As most of you know, I moved to New York City at the first of the year after I landed a pretty awesome internship in Manhattan. It was posh, extravagant. I attended press events, treated like royalty...treated like I was Taylor Swift. I was escorted in and out of the crowds like some self-absorbed queen. I got passes for interviews. Everything seemed grand. I was on top. I had never felt such importance in my life before, and I never wanted it to end. However, that is the precisley the time I tumbled from greatness...or rather, the illusion of greatness. Before I knew it, the internship had come to an end and no job off in sight. I turned away from that 5th Avenue stonewall building onto the bustling street, unsure of what to do next. The next few months flew by in a bloody fury of panic and sadness. I even went to an abandon soup kitchen a time or two, grasping at straws. Not the colorful kind that are used at birthday parties...the faded feces-laden straw that lines barns at the local state fair. Trampled on by horses.
Before I knew it, it was July and I had not been offered a job. I mean, I must have applied for over 100 different positions, ranging from administrative assistant to editorial intern to cashier at the grocery store around the block. Nothing came my way. It was a bad stink, left at the back of my throat as I packed up my things to once again, head back to West Virginia with my head hung low and my spirit shattered. Ironically enough, my grandmother had passed away that same week. Fate was trying to tell me something. Death, a force within itself that has the power to control the seasons, had pulled me in to take advantage of a broken being.
That was the day I was fed to the sharks...my family. Within a month of living there again, I quickly knew that the only satisfaction they sought was seeing my fail and need their help. They thrived in it. They didn't care that my body was rotting from the inside out or that my heart was bleeding profusely at my fingertips. They need to drink up the colorful liquid to sustain any sense of accomplishment. I fought hard against their manipulative ways to find myself once again. Days would go by that I would wish death upon my brain, for the pain to stop thick in my arteries and clog up on central nervous system...
Deep down, though, I knew that wasn't the way things were supposed to be. I have, sort of, always known that. Every time I have returned (this makes the second long-term "visit"), I have been force-fed a much-needed lesson. It's not that I don't like to eat my vegetables, I do, but to eat them after they've rotted in the pit of my stomach is another story. After holding down the poison, I said what I had always been thinking, that my family is nothing but a self-centered masicistic group of individuals who have nothing better in life than to suffer and make those around them suffer.
With that, I left for the last time. Thanks to a gracious friend, I have found a temporary home. It's not where I belong, but it is a safe haven for now. I am able to breathe and think and live and listen to everything around me. I feel change whittling under my skin and I will be there when it breaks the surface. I can't be anywhere else but in the here and now.
So, as a new year begins tomorrow, so does a new Jason. Someone unafraid of taking risks, taking chances, making a move to something greater and more fantastic. I know I won't want to miss a beat. In 2012, I vow to listen to more music, drink more drinks, eat more food, live more life. Why should I stop being me for the sake of my detractors? I'm not. That's no way to thrive.
Will you join me?
XOXO,
Jason
https://www.facebook.com/notes/jason-scott/were-you-blown-away-by-2012-a-reflection/10151316780082768
I am also so glad that you have a friend's place where you can live and breathe! I hope and pray that you find this new year a better year.