Sexually Me

So despite my absence on the blogging scene, I've been doing well. Okay, well is a relative term, but I've been doing much better than I could have hoped or expected in this juncture of my life. Lately, it's been boosted by a simple medication. But that's for another post. This is more about how even though I'm feeling much better than I could have ever hoped at times, there are pronounced & profound moments where previous guilt & feelings of shame resurface. Making me feel in many ways, lost or wishing that I had made better choices in my life. Choices that wouldn't have hurt some of those that I hold most dear. How or what causes this you might ask? A few words, composed in a lyrical fashion, accompanied by almost haunting melodies, and sung with a level of anguish & raw context that it nearly makes me cry. I can't say that I really knew the name James Blunt before last night. But now that I do, I feel like I'm just starting my j

I have tons of respect for incredible men like Nate or even Mark , who from my perspective, seem to write about their daily travails with ease. Well, ease is the wrong word, but I only wish I could let the words flow that freely. You already know that I hide. You already know that I sequester myself within my mind. You already know that I have miles of swampy wilderness to navigate. Whenever I start to write a post, I feel that it's very much like removing a vital part of myself. I cut it out, often with a less than sharp instrument, and then toss it unceremoniously upon the examination table. I then dissect it into many tiny pieces, inspecting each, trying to understand how they comprise the whole. And the entire time, I have you looking over my shoulder. And yes, this was of my own choosing, hoping that somehow the process has taught someone, anyone, something. Maybe help them navigate these waters more easily. I can only hope that a Magellan of the mind is charting the