I'm Still Standing

There has been a voice in my head for my entire life telling me that I am worthless, weak, pathetic, and unworthy of respect or love. When I was sixteen months old my father took his own life. From the ages of three to twelve my stepfather and his buddies made me their living sex toy. When I was sixteen I left home and never went back. When I was twenty I was shipped off to a conversion therapy camp by my church where they tried to electrocute the gay out of me which resulted in me following in my father's footsteps and trying to end my own life. That voice has been a constant companion. I must be worthless to have no one save me from these things as a child. I must be weak and pathetic to continue to allow myself to be abused again and again.

When I was twenty-nine I had enough of feeling bad about myself for my sexual orientation and came out of the closet. At thirty I started college. At thirty-five I completed my Bachelor of Science degree. At thirty-six I let my walls down long enough to trust a group of men called The ManKind Project and disclosed my childhood sexual abuse for the first time in my life. Shortly after the memories of my childhood hit with a vengeance. For all the strides I felt I'd made in my life the past few years; the memories, nightmares, flashbacks, and panic attacks left me feeling once again weak and pathetic. Reliving my worst experiences brought me to my knees begging for it to stop. Until last night.

Last night I got rocked by yet another full sensory three hundred sixty degree flashback to an incident of my childhood sexual abuse. Once again I let it hit me like a freight train. Once again I let that voice tell me how worthless I was, how weak and pathetic I am. But then it dawned on me, I'm still here. After all of the nightmare shit that life has dished out, after my own mind forced me to relive the worst of it, after trying to end my own life, and being told again and again how weak and pathetic I am; I realized that I'm still standing. I'm. Still. Standing. How can that be? If I really am worthless, weak, pathetic, and unworthy of respect or love then how the hell am I still here? How have I made it this far? How do I have this desire to move forward? How do I have this fire in my gut to make the world a better place? Maybe, just maybe, the reason that I'm still standing is because the voice that tells me I'm weak is a fucking liar. Maybe, just maybe, I'm still standing because I'm strong!