I am very upset with my angry, homophobic uncle right now, since my mother mentioned to me that she thinks I have PTSD from his bullying. My life is mostly happy, but when I think about him, I am so angry, and I never want to see him again. But eventually, I also want to come out as gay/bisexual (I'm "mostly" gay) to my family. And I want to come out happily, too, probably by using the word "gay" as a synonym for happy. So it's hard not to mix up those two desires, right now: The desire to come out, and the desire to give him hell.
My mom and I recently went to a chiropractor in town who also is into naturopathy. I know that some people may be skeptical or ignorant of what that actually is, but suffice it to say, I don't believe in taking mercury for "therapy" or taking a little bit of poison or allergen to cure me of allergies or sickness. And as far as I know, the chiropractor doesn't either.
But what he has does do, often deals with emotions and stress.
My mom had also very recently mentioned to me, "I think you have PTSD," when she questioned me about why I was still bothered about my angry, bullying uncle, and I told her, "When he tickled me, I felt like I was drowning." My body had thought it was dying, so I naturally panicked and was absolutely terrified. And ever since, being around him, even dreading being around him, has caused me a lot of stress.
The chiropractor told to lie on my back, holding my hands on my forehead, while thinking about what stresses me.
My mom was sitting there, and said, "Tell her to think about Uncle Brother!"
(No, it's not incestuous; he just hates his name, and so his sisters called him, "Brother." I was the oldest grandchild, and when I got old enough to talk, that's what I thought was his name.)
Fortunately, the chiropractor knew our family, and knew why he was called that. I had not thought about my uncle while lying there, but that certainly was a cause of stress, since my mom mentioned PTSD. The PTSD theory just made too much sense to ignore it.
"You're stressed because of your uncle?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied. "There was a time when I was little, and he was so cruel to me, one Christmas, that I said, 'You're just like the devil!' and he said...what did he say?" I asked my mom. I remembered that he had said something threatening, but not exactly what.
"He said, 'You call me the devil again, I'm going to bust your ass.'"
"He did?" I asked in surprised.
"Yep," she nodded.
I was shocked. Who threatens to spank another person's child, right in front of their parent? Much less "bust your ass"?
I explained further. "Anyway, my mom got really mad at him, and said, 'No, you won't,' and they started yelling, and my aunt was so scared that she pushed all of us kids out onto the porch so that we wouldn't be near him. And I thought he was going to kill my mother."
My mom later said that she thought, "I'm going to hit him with this lamp if I have to," and would have, if it had escalated. And that he didn't know how close he came to dying or getting seriously hurt that day, because though he was stronger, she had been quite a brawler in high school, and was feeling very violent at that moment.
My other uncle, the husband of the aunt who pushed us kids out of the house, got between them and walked towards my angry uncle, arms out at the sides, until Uncle Brother sat down in a chair. Uncle Brother then got up and went into the kitchen, and my other uncle shielded my mom while he walked by. "Maybe that's why I've always told him he's my favorite brother-in-law," she remarked.
After learning all of this, I had the urge to call my Uncle Brother and tell him that I'm gay as f*ck, and that after all he's put me through, he's on probation with me, and that (though this should be so obvious) if he is unpleasant to be around, in the slightest, I'm not going to be around him!
But then I realized that I feel two different things right now--the urge to come and be myself, and the urge to tell him how badly he has treated me and what I think of him--and that is confusing for me. I am so angry at the way he's treated me, at his cruelty. I called him the devil because he loved nothing more than to make me cry--just like the devil. He was evil. And though he's perhaps mellowed over the years, I can never, ever forgot what he's done, what he's put me through. I am so hurt, and so angry, and I don't want to see him for at least six months! I already know that I will probably be "sick" for the holidays.
But...coming out should be joyous, regardless of other people's reactions. I want to answer the question, "How are you?" with, "I'm feeling so happy and gay today!" But I'm not feeling very gay when I'm around him--especially just thinking of that, right now.
I'm not sure if I will ultimately have the need or urge to tell him what he's put me through. I don't care about having any kind of closeness or relationship with him. So it may or may not be worth it. I don't know if I'll need to tell him what I really think of him, or if I'll just to want avoid him for months at a time.
But I realized that I was stifled, at the age of seven, from saying what I truly felt about him: "You are the devil!" And I use the word "stifled" because, though I said it, I was too scared to be honest about him or to him from then on. And I apologized, because I (mistakenly) thought my mom would make me, anyway--even though I was not sorry in the least.
It's a powerful thing to take back that right, that has been stolen from me, the right to be honest. I practice saying, "You're the devil," and it makes me feel so much better. I have no idea whether I will ever really say it to him, but it feels much more powerful than practicing saying anything else to him.
"He was so self-righteous about his Christianity, that was the worst thing you could have called him," my mom remarked the other night.
"It's probably still the worst thing I could call him--except perhaps a gay devil." (Though I'm not sure I would, since not all of us are devils. But there is no denying that he has always been scared to death that someone would think he was gay, ever since I could remember. And I may say that, or the even creepier and ambiguous, "I know you have something to hide.")
It helps to get clarity on these things, asking my mother to recall as much as she can of that and other incidents, and speculating on why he turned out so mean and cruel. (We think it's because he was taken away from his Aunt Alice, who cared for him while his sister was in the hospital. Aunt Alice and her older children were very affectionate, and my grandparents were not, at the time he was little. This doesn't excuse his actions, though.)
But I think I also will avoid seeing him for a long while, because I felt much better after not seeing my other grandparents (on my father's side) for at least six months, as I recall. They bothered me a lot too, but now it is not so bothersome to see them, after taking such an extended break, and not having them in my life as much now.
I don't know whether I'll say anything to him about the things he's done, either. It might make me feel better to do that, but it might make me feel better not to. In any case, I want to avoid seeing him until I feel better about everything that has happened.
I want to get to the point where I can honestly say, "I'm feeling very happy and gay today!" Because coming out should be a joyous experience--even coming out to him, however he reacts. I think I am safe enough to come out--with my mother, my pepper spray, knowing that he knows I've taken martial arts, and perhaps my mother's favorite brother-in-law around. So it should be a celebration of not caring what he or anyone else thinks about me. It should be liberating, and I should be incredibly happy, carefree--gay. So I think I'm going to wait until being around him doesn't sicken me with disgust anymore.
If I can help it, I'm going to make my coming out very happy--gay--just like most of the rest of my life.
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