This is an achingly sad story from a fellow brother, a story I can totally relate to because it echoes my own life in some ways. Perhaps some of you readers will connect to it, perhaps you won’t. Read though, and learn how not-so-rosy some lives can be.
As I lie on my bed writing this short piece, in my head I try to trace how it all began. I am not one of those guys you associate with cute, cuddly or nice. I am more of a recluse, introverted, and I find it hard connecting with people. I know it may be tagged as some form of social disease, but in truth I simply do not like people. I don’t trust them, and I am most happy and comfortable when I am alone. I hate that I have a phone, I hate calls but I could manage texts. Due to the nature of my job I have to stomach long hours of conversation every day. Some days I put on my headphones and get lost in Beyoncé’s latest hits – all to dodge any form of interference. Those are my happiest moments.
But I wasn’t always this way.
In a faint very distant memory, I can remember a young handsome kid whom everybody loved, and who loved everybody. Kids are so innocent, everything happening around them just breezes through. Everyone loves to protect a kid, so adults weave webs of lies, fantasies and create fairytale worlds to protect their children. But immediately I became of age, all that changed!
As I entered into my teenage years, I began to notice I was different. And that my perfect world was nothing like a fairytale. I noticed I was more interested in the male movie stars than the females, that there was a little more to the connection I felt with my neighbour’s son, that everyone felt my high pitched voice was too weird and girly, that it was wrong to talk and wave your hands, sway your hips or catwalk.
I learnt all this the hard way – meaning I was mocked, insulted, bullied and beaten.
To make matters worse, as I grew up I noticed my step brother was a little bit too ‘interested’ in me. Ours quickly became a tale of love and wars. He would make love to me at night and beat me to a pulp during the day. I am the only child of my mother, who had the unfortunate luck of marrying a monster, whose son was also a monster. I lived through all these for years, and slowly the once lively boy began to withdraw. Slowly everything that seemed green, bright and bursting with colours turned gray. I cried way too much, way too often. My mother never understood. I was just a weird kid to her. But maybe she loved me in her own way, I can’t tell anymore.
I read so many blogs and books about falling in love and instantly my mouth turns sour. I know that reality is not, and can never be for me. I have thought of ending my life so many times.
Even now that I am older and wiser, I still have serious moments of depression. And I am just hanging on to life by a thread. Some days, I am so down I can hardly get out of bed. I want to shut the windows, curtains and hide myself under a blanket.
Every smile I put on is strained and plastic. My ‘friends’ think I am a snub and most just hang on because of what they hope to benefit. I am tired. I’ve been running, running but I am so tired. Next month I turn 28 and my family has already tagged me a failure. Why? Because I have never had a girlfriend, let alone plans to marry. Never mind that I have completed my masters, have a job and am able to afford my needs independently. The longest relationship I had with a guy lasted 6months. They all end the same – I lose interest!
I am me. I am troubled. I won, but I am about to lose it all.
Written by Ken George
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