Cainanite
I'm going to "come out" to my parents.
by
, 07-19-2011 at 06:50 AM (1745 Views)
Okay, I'm not coming out as gay to my parents. I'm coming out to them as Hypogonadal. I'm debating telling them about my asexuality, though I'm sure they already know.
As a gift to me for my 37th birthday (which happens in August.) my parents are flying me home to Saskatchewan, this month. I'll be there for a whopping five days.
When we have a quiet bit of time, when we are sure not to be interrupted, I'm going to tell them. I know I don't have to tell you, I'm scared witless about it.
The reason I feel I need to tell them, is to give them a measure of comfort. Hopefully they will feel the same comfort I do, but I can't know for sure.
As I understand it now, the story of my life is very different from the one I thought I was living. I blamed myself for things that were outside of my control. My parents struggled to raise me without knowing what they were doing wrong. I'm sure at some level they've blamed themselves.
After my bout with Kawasaki's Disease at age twelve, and the orchitis that came with it, I went from being a fairly active kid to a more sedentary child. Though I stayed near the top of my class, I fell behind in physical education. I didn't develop the physical stamina of my peers, nor did I develop the muscle mass. My friends quickly left me behind. I became for all outward appearances, a somewhat effeminate nerd.
My parents did not see a big problem with this. They accepted me as a nerd. I guess someone has to be one. My real problems came when I was fourteen. Unknown to my parents, (Because I didn't tell them.) I was developing small breasts like those on a developing girl. Where everyone I knew was developing body hair, I wasn't. While all the guys were talking about jerking off, I had to pretend I knew what they were talking about. I was also starting to carry more fat around my pelvis and hips. Entering the school shower was something I still have nightmares about. This led me to a lot of body issues. It was also the start of my most violent mood swings.
At fourteen, I took a knife to my bedroom and most of my belongings, shredding almost everything I owned. I was also caught bringing a large hunting knife to school. I'm not sure I would have done anything to another person. I was too cowardly. But in my imagination I was going to kill the people who were picking on me, and ostracizing me. I think I was hoping someone would kill me. I hated myself for being different.
My parents took me to a psychologist to "fix" the problem. What I got were a series of lectures on how to manage my anger. The psychologist wasn't interested in WHY I was angry, or WHY I wanted to die, he only wanted me to find a safe outlet for my anger. He never once asked me the right questions, or looked for a physical link to my problems. I was a good little actor at that time, and basically lied to him to end the sessions. I convinced him I wouldn't kill myself, and that part of my life was over.
Unbeknownst to my parents, were my body issues. I started wearing long sleeves, and long pants, even in the summer. The last thing I wanted anyone to see was my lack of hair, or my flabby body. I didn't even have my first ejaculate until the day before my 15th birthday. On my 15th birthday I thought my problems were finally over.
Despite a new found love of my body, I was still having body issues. I wasn't able to keep friends. I still had extremely low self esteem.
I had my first girlfriend when I was 19. I was lucky with her. She was as big a nerd as I was. She was also a virgin, and she was as scared of sex as I was. (or at least I thought so) Helping her clean her room one night, I found her erotic magazines and toys. I'd never so much as looked at that kind of stuff. If I masturbated, it took only a few moments, and it was done. She was clearly more advanced than I was.
We had sex for the first time when I was 21. We had been together for 2 years. Sex was pleasurable for neither of us. No matter what I did, I couldn't release. Try as I might, it was a no go. I was able to maintain erection of my 4 inch member almost an hour (a record for me), but with my short size and thin girth, it did little for her other than to pass the clock. It took a lot of work for me to stay interested and up to the challenge. It was exhausting.
My psyche was very damaged by that experience. After that, she showed no interest in sex with me. I think I was grateful to be let off the hook. I loved her, but more for her company than her sex. when we no longer enjoyed each other's company, it ended.
During my time with my girlfriend, my parents were ecstatic. I think they were worried I was gay. It was a kind of validation for them. They even made presents of condoms to me. They gave them with a kind of wink and a nudge. I think I used two out of a package of twelve. The rest expired.
Subsequent gifts were parsed out to my horny friends.
I didn't have another girlfriend for about four years. I dated a single mother who saw me as stable and safe. I liked her company, and cared for her children. We went out for nine months. She started pressuring me for sex at two months. I pretended to be old fashioned, and wanted to wait. How's that for a reversal? We had sex twice. Neither time was enjoyable for either of us. In the weeks after we had sex I discovered her cheating on me. I left her, but I still miss her children. They were good kids, and they had started calling me "Dad" like small kids are wont to do.
My parents consoled me. They told me there would be other women. I just hadn't found the right one yet. By this time I knew one truth. I was not attracted to women. I was attracted to their company, but not their bodies. I also knew sex was not enjoyable for me. Even masturbation wasn't as enjoyable as it once was.
I haven't sought out sexual companionship since. I've actually lost track of how long it has been for me.
I've gotten fat too. It's getting to the point it's starting to be a problem. Being fat and having body issues keeps me away from doctors unless it is urgent, or an emergency. I literally hadn't had a physical since shortly after my bout with Kawasaki's.
I am the last male in my family line. There is no-one else. When I die, my family name will die with me. There are some distant cousins, three or four times removed, but the family tree that started with my great-grandfather, ends with my generation. I will be the last in a long unbroken line to carry this fine name.
My parents have come to my aid many times. When I lost my job three years ago ( due to flying into a rage at a customer.) I became very suicidal. I tried in earnest for the first time in at least ten years to truly do myself in.
They dropped everything to fly 1000 miles to come to my aid. They got me back on my feet. They helped out financially. They let me know my family still loved me no matter what.
They've seen me fail time and time again. Undone by my own low self esteem and mood swings.
Fortunately, in the last few years, my mood has begun to stabilize. I still have moments, but they are less extreme.
I tried therapy shortly after my last suicide attempt. The topic of my sexuality came up. I've lived my life pretty confused about the whole thing. I began to tell her about my confusion. I stared to say "I'm not attracted to adults per-say..." That was as far as I got. The rest of my time was her lecturing me on the dangers of revealing feelings of pedophilia in therapy. I could end up on a sexual predators watch list. I could be involuntarily committed to an institution. It was a peach that really went on, and scared the crap out of me.
I wasn't going to say, "I want to have sex with children." I was trying to say, "I feel like I am one." Regardless, she put enough fear into me, that I never went back. I was no longer sure if what I said in therapy was safe. That was the end of that exploration.
I've been very lucky these past few years. My moods have ben much more stable than I can remember. Even sexual feeling has diminished further than ever before. My doctor says at this age it is natural for men to have less swings in testosterone levels, and for me that means a low stable amount. Almost no sex drive, but lessened mood swings too.
My problem before was that my testicles would go through on-again, off again production. Never enough, or for long enough to engage a "normal" sex drive, but enough for my body to gain dependency, before going through withdrawal. I'm at a low enough production level now, that the mood swings have significantly lessened.
Who knows what my parents thought of me through all of this. Am I a disappointment? Do they feel they failed? Am I that unpredictable burden in the family with no explanation?
When I found out this April that I was Hypogonadal was the first time I could look back at my life and see where my low and unpredictable testosterone had led me.
Suddenly it all made sense. I have long ago given up on having children. So learning that I don't have what it takes was no big loss or major discovery to me. Testosterone could provide me with a sex drive, but it can't give me the stuff for making babies. That was gone when I was twelve. It doesn't change anything for me.
I felt peace for the first time in my life. Suddenly, the things at the core of my problems had a reason. For the first time, I made sense to myself. I'm just so grateful to know there is a reason. I can finally DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
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