This is why...

An online journal is something I've meant to work on for along time. Hell any kinda journal. Just never before had the motivation desire or time. Well guess time is never truly a constraint... should you desire to do something then you can definitely get around to it. Guess I just finally decided to do it... I'm the king of procrastinating.

My journal will include the story of twenty plus years lived on this planet we call earth. Many of which saw my existence within a family that neither valued nor cared for children. Within a religion that neither promoted nor respected independent thought or action. Yeah, big surprise they actually chose to promote the opposite. All of which, since first cognitive thought and awareness of sexuality, found me as a gay man, child, son, lover, and brother. Yeah, I know I could be overly dramatic and say uncle, employee, etc. etc. etc... but hey that little sentence is just SOOO done.

And I guess this is my way or purging my struggles that resulted from years of sexual assault, abuse, and neglect at the hands of those who were entrusted with my care. AND NO... I'm not a whiny, useless, unemployed, unmotivated guy. I'm moderately successful, I have a healthy outlook, some great friends, a lover that I care more for than I could ever say... and a current family that although' dysfunctional is definitely bearable. So I'm not planning on, nor have I ever, blamed my upbringing on my lack of successes in  this world.

But I've never sat down and chronicled my story. In fact very few people in my life even know what I endured. That's why I guess I'm doing this anonymously. I hope to not edit or change what I think about versus what I write. This is my way of purging myself of this story. And yeah, I've done some dumb ass shit in my life, which you'll read about in the pages to come. But I hope you'll read my story before you pass judgement on my life. Vulnerability is a horrible thing to have, and an even worse thing to lose.

So all I ask is that while you read, should you read, my journal... is that you keep in mind that this is being typed by someone. Someone who lived it, someone who dealt with it, and now has chosen to write it all down.



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