a subtle difference

As can be imagined I've had a lot on my mind lately. I feel guilty for feeling good because all of this is so hard on Momma, but I've felt so good lately, free and light, ready to face the world. It's one hell of a mixed bag right now.

Honestly, not a whole lot has changed on a day to day basis. I haven't rushed out and done anything stupid, no slutty boy chasing. I haven't even been looking at dirty pictures on the internet lately, and if I did I would no longer have to feel worried or guilty about Momma finding out.

Things really are different though, which just seems obvious to say, but it's the subtle things that are different. I do feel good. I feel better just generally. I feel a little boisterous in a sense, almost like I just want to rush out and share.

Dealing with Big Brother and The Boy sensibly has been easier. While my old angry habits are still trying to rear their angry head it's gotten so much easier to give myself and the boys the time I need to not be such an ass.

Even cooking is starting to be fun again, even when I'm fighting my natural laziness. I'm less inclined to jump at the first one pot meal idea and more inclined to just want to cook something good. I even bought a rutabaga at the store today, something I'd never really considered before, and it went beautifully with the pork loin and roasted white potatoes and pole beans, though we did have a lot of butter in our random meal elements.

Momma has even noticed the change in me, and I have to think that's helping her a little. It's hard to help Momma cope sometimes. We're both in a messed up place mentally, for the same reason but with different motivation. I think I can imagine her hurt, and it's hard because I still love her very much, and I almost wish to feel different for her sake. At the same time I know I won't ever go back to that dark place I was in before. She makes me know that she doesn't want that, but her greiving is hard because I can't help but feel responsible. It's hard not to feel selfish.

One thing that keeps popping up with me is the things I'm realizing I did to myself over the years. As I said in the coming out post, I've known for years that I'm gay. It wasn't something that really bothered me, but even while I accepted this I didn't really admit even to myself that it was true. I was sure that I was the master of me, that I controlled absolutely everything. The Rufus Wainwright video I posted nearly a week ago is a perfect example. In the post I mentioned having heard of him, how his music had stood out to me, how I'd never gone out of my way to do anything about it. I remember being drawn to him the first time I ever heard him. I remember knowing he was gay the first time I ever heard him. I didn't realize it then, but some part of the reason I didn't let myself really enjoy it was some fear that it would bring all my own gay to the surface. If I kept the gay at a distance I could keep things as they were. The gay people I've met in real life had the same effect on me. I would be intrigued, maybe secretly jealous that they were able to just be, but I was also a little scared. If I didn't let all that in then I would never have to let all this out.

I'll finish with what may be the oddest thing to come out of all this. Through all the hurt what Momma and I have now is much better communication that at any time in our past. We have one hell of a history, stories the world may never know. We have years together. It took us giving each other hell for us to finally be able to talk openly and honestly. You have someone close to you. Be honest with them. Even if it takes getting drunk and sitting up till the sky grows rosy with the early morning sun, talk to them and be honest. Even if it hurts and you find that you are crying for the first time in years and is scarier than another republican white house, be honest.