Drugs are bad?

 When I moved to Melbourne in 2003 (this in more detail later) – I felt a bit lost and alone and I remembering doing a google search for dance music websites – which led me to inthemix… yes… yes indeed… -laughs-

Anyway I made this totally awesome group of friends – online and physical.  I personally pissed a lot of people off – oh hai ^_^  This is probably the period in my life what I have been the most social I have ever been.  I am still so incredibly thankful that a lot of the friends that I made are still around now – it may only be virtual – they are still my friends… we’ll get into my horror years eventually.

Oops I forgot to post this!  Yikes!!! This is just a brief foray into some of the insanity I have gone through while enjoying myself! ;)

Sssssssooooooooo a bunch of us on the inthemix had been stalking an Australian dance act called infusion.  This was in 2005 so the cyber-stalking laws don’t come into play… So anyway it was a bit of a fun – and then OMG!!! Jamie from Infusion emailed a couple of us…. HE BOUGHT ME VODKA!!!!!  Seriously you buy me vodka I’ll hump your leg or something…  So we got to see Infusion live – I think from memory I was asked to look after one of our group and he was asked to look after me (he was so fucking wasted) but OMG! OMG! OMG! I got to meet Jamie from Infusion and I got to have maccas with a very drunk man at roughly 3am at Kings Cross McDonald’s… 

This weekend was literally all kinds of fucked up…

The following night we had a BBQ at a friends place – the view was freaking awesome harbour everything so on… the guy I was looking after the night before and myself were told to not do any drugs… yeah… about that… THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN – so I escorted him home and I’m getting messages from the girl I was staying with that she was at this hotel which was on my way home… yay lines of speed in the toilets and when we get home I have a gentleman (straight) reading poetry while there is house music on the stereo.

FESTIVAL DAY!!!!!

I have no idea why I went to Parklfe – I think it was more around just getting to see Infusion for me.  Anyway, it was probably one of the funniest days I’ve ever had – hugging trees, stupid amounts of drugs, NICK WARREN, me trying to dance to dubstep and suddenly not caring… People trying to find me, people losing me, people finding me again.  Me trying to find people,  ohhhh music, sorry who are you?  Me getting dragged off a dancefloor…

We’d arranged to meet at a pub near Moore Park and when I showed up I was asked if I had any sleep – I was honest and said no… I was still speeding off my dial from the night before – Starship Troopers makes just as much sense when you’re totally fried.  It pretty much all went downhill from there – tree hugging, “OMG YOU’RE NETTSU FROM INTHEMIX”, trying to dance to dubstep (I still don’t get it), having someone sent to look after who leaves me two fat lines of MDMA on a toilet seat and then disappears – there’s something ironic here, someone being to sent to drag me off a dancefloor (NICK WARREN BITCHES) – I wasn’t happy about being dragged off the danceloor (NICK WARREN BITCHES) as I couldn’t understand why – when I could… I couldn’t string two syllables together.  And there’s Jamie and I couldn’t string one syllable together – I think pretty much everything came out as a ba-ba-ba.. which set to the right beat could have worked.

So we then go to a kickon and yes well… I crashed and burnt for about half an hour and when I woke up – oh look Michael’s awake let’s give him more drugs… I think at that stage I did pretty much have a reputation for being a massive trashbag.  I’m getting phonecalls from the girl I was staying with and I pretty had to put an end to the weekend.  I show and her housemates are looking at me – “when did you last sleep?” – still looked that trashed apparently… I go home the following day, my boyfriend at the time picked me up from the airport dropped me home – gave me a valium and said here you need to sleep – I’ll talk to you tomorrow… when you think about it – that’s actually pretty awesome!

Friends used to hold a free techno event in Catani Gardens in St Kilda – they were generally off-tap enough.  Techno and beers – yes beers… so this one particular day it ended up getting rained out.  So we end up at a bar in Ellwood drinking beers and playing pool.  Some of us were starting to get bored so we end up at a friend’s apartment snorting lines of E.  What could go wrong?  Another group of friends had a regular party in Melbourne’s CBD so we decided to go that – and it got messy from there – lines of drugs off people’s work desks – awesome, awesome techno – jelly wrestling… the friend who got dragged into doing the jelly wrestling asking all of us all night why was she wet?  I have a photo of me and her somewhere… it still makes me laugh.

Then was the memorial flame on St Kilda Road – I went to Queer Nation which had come down to Melbourne to do a party.  I decided to go – I thought it would be something different… oh yes! Something different it was… I took my first pill – it didn’t seem to be working so about 30 minutes later I took the second pill… after another 30 minutes – I was still bored – so freaking bored… I decided to walk home (I was living in Prahran so it was a manageable walk) – I got as far as the memorial flame and –bam- literally for the next 3 hours I was staring at this stupid freaking flame and of course it’s across the road from the police headquarters –ahem- there was a couple of police that came and asked if I was ok.  I think by the time they saw my eyes – they figured I was probably ok… I was having fun – I was sitting there listening to mixsets – my legs also didn’t seem to be working particularly well… so yeah… I’ve done some truly stupid shit.

There is a question someone asked me once how do I balance being a parent and having the extensive drug history that I have.  I will say this much – I am obviously not going to be the model for abstinence or moderation.  I prefer the harm minimisation view – I know you can’t always know what you are taking, try to be smart.  That’s pretty much it.  I’d say it’s what I have tried to do in my life but that is FAR from true.

I’ve done illegal stuff – bar the actual taking of drugs, that seems to be much less frowned upon these days anyway… I went to Sydney for a work function and Armand van Helden was playing at a nightclub so a bunch of us (a lot of my partners in crime from Parklife) were going – I had some ask me if I needed any drugs and I did have a bit of a reputation for being a speedqueen – so I asked for speed and a price – I was informed they could get me an eightball of speed for $150 – so I thought wahey why the hell not… -laughs- I really need to buy a clue more frequently – I had no idea of how big an eightball was.  

I was flying back to Melbourne on the Sunday afternoon and I still had more than half the eightball left – so in the sock it went.  Of course because I was coming down from the night before I wasn’t a paranoid mess, you’re a paranoid mess!  Probably one of the dumber things I’ve done.  I’ve sold drugs that I had because I needed the money, I brokered deals – oohhh middleman.  I’ve done drug runs (which is delivering the drugs basically).  Probably the worst – I flew into Tasmania with 3 points of meth “cheeked” or in want for another term “shelved” – so yeah stupid, stupid mistakes.  Do I regret them?  Not really as I (obviously) have a very liberal view on drugs – do I think they were good decisions?  No – would I have made them if I was sober, not-high and not-coming down?  Most likely not.  They were choices I’ve made and like a lot of choices I’ve made – I’ve learnt from them (or I hope I have). 

Something I am quite proud of

I’ll share with you something that I personally was incredibly proud of – I have already detailed my weight and weightloss battles.  I don’t know who owns the rights to it now – back when I did it – it was the BRW Corporate Triathlon (400m swim, 10k bike ride, 5k run).  I thought I trained my arse off for this… yeah well… maybe not!  I spent about 3 months training for this but my main focus was still on weights and I learnt that muscle fitness does not equate to cardio fitness.  Something a lot of guys in prison I found weren’t aware of… anyway.  I had also stopped drinking, smoking and switched to a vegetarian diet – I was obessed!

So I would go for a swim in the morning before work, it’s funny as a child I was a great swimmer, as an adult I wasn’t and I found myself struggling/floundering… I’d walk to work (probably should have jogged) and I’d go to the gym after work – do my weights and finish with a 5km run which would completely knacker me.  I don’t like running never have.  Regardless of the amount of sneakers I own (20 at last count) I don’t run, I sprint which for distance events is really hard.  I would get home and I would jump on my bike and ride what I thought was about 10ks.

So I did this for about 3 months – I was also a vegetarian at this time.  I looked great, I felt great and I thought I could meet the challenge.  Prove to myself that I could do it and hopefully shut the fat me up for a while… 

This is where it gets funny.  So the night before I am trying to fit my bike into the back of my car… a 1986 Honda Prelude… 2 hours, a hell of a lot of swearing and I got the bike in… I considered that a massive achievement – even though I could have cried so many times!  The rational practical 20/20 hindsight equipped part of me should have realised that I should have done a trail run of trying to fit my bike in the car – I should have! I really fucking should have…

So I get up at some ungodly hour to drive down to the Gold Coast for the triathlon… all sweet, find a parking spot, spend a good 15 minutes pulling my bike out of the car.  Lesson here – car may look pretty, functionality is shit.  So I then found out I managed to bend the handlebars either at some point the night before or that morning.  So my bike kept pulling to the left… it made for an interesting 10k ride.  I don’t like running – I never have – I honestly thought that the 5k was manageable – HA!  I wasn’t expecting that about a fair bit of the run would be on sand… so what does Michael do?  Powerwalks the last bits of the run – some would say powermince, hey I got there in the end!

I managed to do it in under 1 hour which I was quite proud of myself for – I will be honest and say I had no idea of what to expect.  I also made the rookie mistake of not doing a practice run of the triathlon so I wasn’t expecting how tiring it was going to be.  Mind you I set out to do something and I achieved it, which until that point in my life I had never done – yay me!

A couple of funny things – when I was leaving, I was walking back to my car and there was an industrial bin – I threw my bike away… I wasn’t going to spend hours struggling to get the damn thing back in my car.  One of the girls I worked with was absolutely dumbfounded and also by my attitude of,  I didn’t pay much for it anyway, I did explain the length of time it took to get it in my car.  When she saw the Prelude – she got it!

One other thing I forgot to do was stretch when I finished the triathlon, I spent a few hours afterwards just standing around watching, chatting and so on.  It took me about 90 minutes to drive home… I went to get out of my car at home and I crumpled as my legs had seized up… I rang my flatmate to see if he was home and he was at work.  I lay next to my car for a couple of minutes trying to get my legs to work…  I managed to eventually get upstairs to the apartment and I would say all was hunky-dory which it kind of was.  I decided to celebrate with a six pack of beer and a meatlovers pizza with extra bacon.  The only thing I really missed during my whole vego period was bacon!

So we’ll delve into Michael’s ‘early’ drug years…

 Lindsay and I broke up – I moved into a friend’s studio in a woolstore in Teneriffe  – I was house-sitting for him – it was the first woolstore conversion that had been done in Brisbane… I think you can kind of gather how I much I loved it… OMG like seriously… anyway before I get completely distracted.  Actually this doesn’t have anything to do with me and drugs…. Ah the link… so while I was living at the Woolstores I was on mIRC (we’re going THAT far back) and I was chatting to the guy who would become my best friend for a very long time (we’ve had a falling out and I get why though that’s a different series of issues).  This also got me to thinking I was with Lindsay from when I was 19 to 28 – so I didn’t do the “right of passage” for young gay men – the ‘clubbing” phase is probably the easiest to describe it -  it ties into the whole perception of gay men being promiscuous and being party animals.

 

Well child!!!!! Didn’t we make up for that… 

 

That in due course…   Lindsay and I didn’t go out much – so we didn’t go clubbing etc… and not long after I left Lindsay I got a temping gig that I thought paid pretty well – so I had a disposable income (YAY ME!!!!) – now you would think that I would start hitting the “gay scene” – I was going out more with people from work than I was with “gay” friends – so anyway as I had managed to estrange myself from my family and my BFF had chickenpox – I spent Christmas Day with him – we watched terrible movies, got drunk and had a blast.  His then flatmate was looking at moving out so I was asked to move in… the idea of living in the Valley was just too much I went giddy with excitement and I may have squealed more than once! I loved that apartment and I loved living with him – he probably deserves his own few chapters…

 

So basically the descent would go like this…
Bourbon & coke at the Beat – that’s when it was about the music – getting drunk and dancing.  I had so much fun – it was almost like I didn’t have to deal with the bullshit – gay clubbing can be brutal if you have very low self-confidence.  Alcohol bolstered mine – yay!

Every now my brother would sleep on our floor and his payment was by giving us some bud – I was still kind of traumatised by the worms crawling out of the wall episode… Anyway we’re at the Beat one night and I smoke a couple of joints – I was high as a fucking kite – I was bouncing off the walls – almost literally…   People were asking my BFF what I was on and where they could get some.

And then speed… ahh sweet speed.  I miss the old school speed – I really do – it was just fun – everyone’s experience on drugs is different and to be honest  I love the drugs – I am just not sure if the drugs love me.  They tend to lead me into strife… Here’s the one thing though I swore blind (HA!) that I would never inject drugs… HA! HA! HA!  and HA!  I ended up with a bit of a reputation (surprising noone) as a bit of a speed queen – a friend actually bought me a t-shirt with the speed queen (it’s a brand of industrial washers and dryers) logo on it…

There’s was a comment that a woman I worked with made after Lindsay and I broke up – “girls who wear glasses don’t get passes” – I asked her what she meant and she said that girls who wear glasses are always overlooked for girls who don’t.  Now I have worn reading glasses since I was 16.  This got me to thinking and she had tapped in my feelings of low self-worth at that point I was working at Roma Street in the office buildings that have been demolished – so I due to that and my fear of being alone (HA!) – I went to the YMCA gym around the corner from work and decided to join up – a cute man had NOTHING to do with my decision… NOTHING!  I was doing it purely for my health… yes… my health… And that started my relationship with gyms.  Out of all the gyms I’ve been a member of the YMCA in Brisbane was my favourite – they were really helpful and just nice.  So anyway I started working out (A LOT) – I’d work out during the week during my lunchbreaks and then work out on the weekends as it was walking distance from home.  Originally it was to prove the woman at work wrong and then it just came about the fact that I was getting a body and drawing attention – I am shallow enough to admit that I appreciated the attention, I’m tall and lean with (I would have said good) muscle memory from swimming when I was a kid.  It didn’t take long for me to start showing results.  

 

During this time I was also a vegetarian so I was way more conscious of what I was eating.  You have no idea of how much I missed bacon!!! And then the speed started – I dropped weight like you wouldn’t believe – I had abs, I had fingerling abs, I will admit even I thought I was hot.  I was originally working out 7 days a week… don’t work out on a comedown – it’s not healthy… so I would work out Monday through Saturday, go out on the Saturday night and do speed – then that ruled out the workout on Sunday.  I would occasionally go out with work friends or another one of my best friends on a Friday night – I’d be drinking (pretty much most of the time) so I’d go to the gym on Saturday even if I was hungover.  It’s easy too look at this period in my life and go – it just became another an addiction – which it did – narrowing down which addiction is interesting though – the attention? The sex? The endorphins from the exercise?  Or was it that for once in my life I didn’t have shitty self-esteem – I knew I looked good, I was handsome and had a body as well.  Unfortunately so much of the gay community is wrapped up in looks and appearance.  I guess it’s funny when you look at the bear community, which in so many ways is anti-appearance – they are still obsessed with appearance.  This is a side issue – I’ll bring it up now anyway, in so many ways I have struggled to find my place or niche in the gay community over the years – I’m too pretty, I’m not pretty enough, I’m too fat, I’m too skinny, I’m too muscly, I’m not fat enough. I’m too gay, I’m too straight, I’m too nice, I’m too bitchy, I’m not the relationship sort, I’m too much of the relationship sort, I’m a slut, I’m not slutty enough, I’m not kinky enough, I’m too kinky, I’m a junkie…

 

Hi my name is Michael and I’m an addict… this is an aside to the aside.  There’s a definite schism and has been for YEARS about the gays that do drugs and the gays that don’t do drugs (even then some of them do…).  As soon as some people find out you are on ice – yep thank you I’m done… yet they are perfectly happy to do post or frank or E’s.  

 

When I first started doing drugs back in 2000 or 2001 – there was the schism then and we were doing E’s and snorting speed.  There’s a couple of stories I’ll recount.  I went to Mardi Gras in 2000 – I saw Kylie like for a brief nano-second – I had no idea of what was going on and I was bored by it.  I was on E at the time… anyway I was having fun dancing away to Victor Calderone – anyway I had to pee at some stage and the son of troughman was laying in the trough – he started talking to me and he completely freaked me the fuck out.  I’ve never told the full version of this story – he was such lovely man – I sat on the step part of the urinal near his head and chatted to him for about half an hour, he was actually helping me to calm down – he literally scared the bejesus out of me,  I explained it was my first time doing drugs – he was just really nice to talk to.  So anyway here’s me in a pair of see through white shorts with holographic dots and a man in leather that’s still getting pissed on why I talk to him… my life has always been a bit strange.

 

So I took my second pill and went back into the crowd.  I guess that’s one of the things – drugs and myself have never been about sex – which for a lot of gay men they are – I’ll admit I can get as horny as all get up and go – there’s no doubt about that.  I was always just as happy to do some speed or whatever and dance around the apartment.  A lot depended on my mood.

 

Did I have sex?  Yes… a lot.  See one of the proceeding bits – sex for me is replacing something else I didn’t have in my life and I have been thinking a lot about this especially when I started writing this – there is something in me that is fundamentally broken – I have sex with people assuming that I will be starting a relationship with them.  Which rationally I know it’s total bullshit, men are pretty easy to figure out – they want to get their rocks off.  And I suppose the people that I choose to have sex with are (mostly) unavailable – they’re already in a relationship, they’re already married, they’re bisexual.  I am honestly setting myself up to fail from the get-go.  I have fun though!  So I guess there’s a slight pay-off.

I think I just worked out something major in my life… 

I’m chasing a relationship…

Yet I keep putting myself in situations where it’s not going to happen

I’m a dickhead

And those relationships I had I pretty much sabotaged

I’m still a dickhead

The Holy Shit I’m Gay!!!

This will probably be reasonably short… anyway when I worked out I was gay I got quite involved with the Queensland AIDS council.  They used to run a support group for 18 to 25 gay guys who were coming out and to be honest that was a bit of a feeder into some of the support/volunteer work.  Once I did I’m the “I’m gay, I’m here, I’m queer” which seems to be a rite of passage that a lot of young gay men went through.  Keep in mind this was during an era where technically being gay was still illegal.

 

It was an interesting period in my life – I became “super” gay – everything became about gay rights, safe sex (which REALLY seems ironic now)… It’s funny I look at this and go… I’m not which bit to include first that I was taught how to walk in stilettos or that I participated in the rights march to get the law changed in Queensland – which is the only march I’ve participated in – there was no hell I was doing that sucker in heels!!!  There was a guy I was interested that used to do his housework in heels – he and I had the same size feet so he taught me how to walk in heels….

 

The only thing I will give Dad is that he was actually really cool with me being gay…  he took me out for a beer one day and he said “this is my baby boy and he’s gay.”   We were at Indooroopilly Shoppinngtown one day and Dad is pointing people out to me “he’s cute – you should go say hello to him.”  Yes… my Dad was trying to set me up with randoms.  I could have died!

 

To be honest because I started covering my walls in HIV campaign posters – I think Dad had a few issues.  I’m not sure he was comfortable with the more militant me.  I don’t think I (to be honest) was comfortable with the militant me.  To be honest I thought it was a right of passage – obviously this is not that case…. However I can walk in 6 inch heels like it’s no one’s fucking business.  I have actually taught other people how to walk in heels.

 

I was still struggling with what “gay” was… I had made friends with this guy through the AIDS Council support group and he wanted to go to the Queens Ball in drag.  There was a part of me though – why the fuck not?  I did quasi-drag, my friend went in full drag.  If you’ve ever seen a massive group of gay men and a drag queen go to a buffet restaurant.  It was one of more surreal experiences in my life – one of the waitresses hated that I had better legs than she did.  I suppose terrorising a sizzler with a drag queen was one way to kill a Saturday night.  It was actually through the drag queen that I met my first boyfriend – The “drag queen” knew I wasn’t attracted to him so he was hoping that introducing me to my first boyfriend would lead to “magic’.  So we’re all stoned, the “drag queen” puts on some porn and all I can see is mosquitoes (watch porn and tell me you don’t see a mosquitoes face) I start really getting the giggles – obviously “drag queen” didn’t get what he wanted….  I least got a shit load of entertainment as payback for shaving my legs and having my eyebrows waxed (hello someone could have told me how this hurt!!!).

 

So we move onto Lindsay – serious boyfriend #1

I’d say there’s so much I could say, I don’t know what to say.
Lindsay and I were together for 8 and a half years.  I think at the end of the day we both made mistakes and I will own a fair amount of them – I tend to shut down when I can’t deal.  Lindsay and I have done the this was your fault/this was my fault… We broke up for a reason and that was actually a complicated reason – I actually hold no ill will.  It took me a very long time to get that stage though – I hated him for a very long time, not so much because he broke my heart, which he did, not so much because he had sex with my best friend, which I caught in the act of and thereby is the reason we broke-up… I think that’s the first time in my life I got well and truly angry.  People down the street heard me screaming at them.  Yeah… me and anger issues huh?  Because we had a lease on the townhouse we were staying in – I felt that we were stuck… so I moved into the second bedroom.  Now Lindsay and I hadn’t sex in a VERY long time (6 years maybe) so one thing led to another and we start having sex again.  I think I told a friend that I felt kind of trapped and that I was having sex with the ex.  He told another friend who offered to let me stay at his studio in Teneriffe.

 

Just taking a slight segue – I ran into him just before I went to prison at Toowong Village.  I hadn’t seen this man in nearly 20 years – he looked good and there was no resentment over our break-up.

And another segue – people have pretty much always called me bad with money and entitled.  I’m the first person to admit that I don’t budget – I don’t think I have ever budgeted – that’s a completely different side issue and part of that is a hangover from my time with Lindsay.  We were so poor – for the first 2 years we were together we living on his Austudy grant and my Austudy loan.  So I think he got $350 and I was getting $80 a fortnight – we were budgeting to every single cent.  Things got a bit easier when I got the full Austudy grant and then again they got easier when I started working at a restaurant.  At the time he worked for one night and gave up – I was fuming!  We literally had been so poor for so long and here was a way out of it and he didn’t want to do it – I get it now as I suffer from social anxiety – I get that he didn’t want to be around people and a buffet restaurant is not really the sort of place where you want to be around people!  Mind you I did enjoy my job there.  Does this justify why I’m as bad as money as I am?  No – I have always just let other people take care of it – if there’s no one – then that’s when things tend to get pear-shaped.
In a lot of ways I got lucky – I have heard horror stories of people coming out.  My family for the most part was accepting.  Dad was ok with obviously, at the end of the day my brother didn’t give a rats.  Mother had issues with it as she was expecting grandchildren….  And obviously the gay child can’t produce grandchildren.  Obviously… yes obviously!

 

While Lindsay and I were seeing each other he took me to see one of the psychologists at UQ – the “crystal” lady – I sat in her office talking about my mother for about 90 minutes holding a piece of rose quartz.  I’m not going to have a go about the healing qualities of crystals – it just seemed a bit much for me.  So I saw her a couple of times and this will become a recurring theme too – I wouldn’t talk about my mother.  I really had no interest in discussing it and I think a large part of that was that I was purely in denial about the amount of damage that I had gone through – I think in part I wouldn’t acknowledge it because it was putting Mum forward as this evil bitch, on the other hand if I did acknowledge it I’d have to accept that my Mother was an evil bitch.  This actually became my baseline trauma – I have been diagnosed with C-PTSD – which obviously has a lot to do with my upbringing – the divorce, my brother and I being pitted against other, the sexual abuse from Dad, the alcoholism – I guess just the general dysfunction.  We were a massively fucked up family.  For some reason in therapy I always viewed Mother as out of bounds and to be honest looking at it now – I think it’s to do with the C-PTSD, I just didn’t want to deal with it… so at the end of the day what does all this have to do with anything – self-medication…

 

Self-medication with me is a funny thing – it’s a double-edge sword on the one had I would drink copiously to numb myself (you’d think I’d use pot but Lindsay and I smoked pot laced with something I saw worms/maggots coming out of the walls – YAY HALLUCINATIONS!!!!) and then I’d use speed, base, E’s, meth/ice to feel something.  So one the one hand I’m trying to not feel anything and then on the other hand I’m trying to feel something.  I still struggle with how fucked up this is and this was a cycle I went through for YEARS…  And it’s funny after having been to the prison the number of people who said that they missed old school speed or GAK.  I’m hearing them there.  Hi – I’m Michael and I’m a drug addict.

“Michael – I’d like you to reflect on your feelings of connectedness”

This is something that one of the head facilitators said to me after I did my offence map.  I guess I’ll try to explain an offence map first – so it’s basically looking at everything, your background, your state of mind, your emotional state, high risk situations – so it’s trying to strip everything back and look at “you” when you committed your offence.  It’s also about trying to look at it from the victim’s perspective – I found it very powerful, it’s still playing on my mind now! 

Obviously – so that’s the badly explained…. Anyway part of what it did was make me look at my own life and I think it was actually what’s given me a different perspective (beyond that whole being locked up and losing all of your freedoms and being strip searched).  I fully know I’m not perfect – there is legitimately something broken in me – my emotions don’t work as they should – I have massive regulation issues – There was a fight my ex-husband and I had once – he called me emotionally retarded, I now think he’s right.  I don’t know if that is the bit in me that’s broken.  I honestly think it is – my emotions are fucked!

 

When I was in prison I first heard the song “scared to be lonely” and there was a large part of that resonated.  Was I only having sex because I was lonely – so for a brief moment, I wouldn’t be lonely, I’d feel loved.

 

Is it just our bodies? Are we both losing our minds?
Is the only reason you're holding me tonight
'Cause we're scared to be lonely?
Do we need somebody just to feel like we're alright?
Is the only reason you're holding me tonight
'Cause we're scared to be lonely?

 

I know there’s a large difference between sex and being loved.  Don’t get me wrong I love sex – I wouldn’t have had near as much sex as I have didn't.  A comment from one of the guys in my DV Course when I said I had a lot of sex (in excess of 3000 people) – the remark was “I was thinking more around 150…”  So yeah… I’ve had a stupid amount of sex – especially when you consider that I’ve had two very long term relationships where I was “mostly” monogamous.

One of my ‘housemates’ and I had a fight last week (oh anger regulation fail) and he mentioned the fact that I hadn’t had sex – I’ve been out of prison for nearly 2 months and you know what – I’ve had offers (duh!), I just don’t feel that burning need, that drive to have sex.  I am going to guess that it’s happened because I think I need to fix myself first.  That and to be honest my sex drive is non-existent at the moment because I’m so internalised and focused on the stuff that is going on in my head.

So much of this is also tied into my self-image and self-esteem.  I’m getting older and I know I am… there’s a certain point as a gay man where you cross a “line” or I think you do where you are no longer as attractive.  I’m ok with that – mind you I also did have the option of working out while I was in prison to help improve my body image and my health and weight.  I pretty much chose not to take those.  I am reasonably comfortable in my skin.  I can handle being a vaguely out of shape nearly 50 year old.  This puts me in the “daddy” category and let’s face it I am generally not attracted to twinks – I’m not attracted to young guys, if it was just for sex – yeah maybe… and you start getting into this whole bizarre world of sub-cultures… and I will be honest I don’t feel like I belong.  I have spent most of my life feeling like I don’t belong- I have always struggled to feel like I am part of the gay community as I honestly didn’t feel like I belonged, I’ve had conversations with other people and they say the same thing.   We’re a splintered and fractured community – the only time I felt I belonged was back in my clubbing days, even then you had a large part of the community that would “tsk tsk” over the fact that you were doing drugs.

 

I'll do slight segue – the only place I ever felt I belonged was in the Melbourne Techno scene.  These people were awesome, next to none gave a shit that I was gay, they let me be me and I let them be them.  It was most definitely some of the best times in my life.  Some of those parties were totally fucking epic!!!

I’ve always looked at being gay is hard because if you want to plug into the gay community – it’s all about sex – you have to look a certain way (which I did for a number of years), you have to be promiscuous, you have to party hard (and obviously take copious amounts of drugs).  Then the different sub-cultures have different rules or whatever…  At the end of the day it’s all bullshit – it’s bullshit I bought into though.  I was a party queen (and I looked damned good), I flirted with the leather community (flirting MAY not be quite the right word), I was part of the sex on premises crowd for a while (this was a body image issue).  

 

For me being gay was about sex and it seemed to pretty much sex only.  You don’t go to dance party to do a point of meth and expect to meet mr right – you’re doing it meet mr right now in the toilets…  and then there’s chemsex – this is why I was in the party scene, the sex on premises scene, the let’s have sex with 3 people in a day scene…  Drugs have been a massive part of my sex life.

 

And I think this where the sense of connectedness comes into things.  If we look at my emotional issues and my emotional regulation issues – I think it was equating sex with “love” – I was taking attention as a positive.  This person wants to be with me – it means that this person must love me… which of course you then have the emotional downer when you get rejected.  There was really cute Irish guy I met at The Wickham (a gay club) when I was speeding off my tits – I had a date with him with him the week after where we played chess and got stoned.  I freaked him out because I was apparently being too intense – I kept staring at him (he was really fucking cute and he had an accent!!!!!).  Anyway he kicked me out and said we were pretty much done as he wasn’t after a relationship as he already had a boyfriend.

 

The funny thing too the number of guys I hooked up with that didn’t see me as relationship material…  here I am basically looking for mister right and I will admit that the large number of guys I slept with at the end of the day I was looking for a boyfriend, significant other so on… It’s sort of really stupid to think that the sheer number of men that I slept with and I was looking for a boyfriend.  I had one guy who I had sex with say “you’re a nice guy – I wouldn’t introduce you to my parents.”  How you go from being a nice guy to not being introduced to the olds is beyond me.  I got that a lot that though – a large part was my reputation, I had a reputation as a slut and an addict, apparently if you have an extensive sexual history people don’t want a bar of you.  Don’t get me wrong – I was looking for a relationship, I hate being alone and this is one of the issues I have.  I meet someone, fall in love with them and then all of a sudden – it’s all about them and I take a back seat, then I crack the shits and start “rebelling” – it’s when I start cheating or self-sabotaging.  It’s completely unhealthy and completely stupid.  I do dumb things… It’s almost like I can’t allow myself to be happy.
So going back to thinking about my feeling of connectedness – I don’t want to be alone… and then there really time I can’t stand being around people.  Go figure!  Maybe that is what’s broken.  I don’t want to be alone, right now I do want to be alone….

 

Eh – I’m fucked up…. (and of course it gets worse!)

You’re gay? We didn’t know!!!! You told me all through high school…

 I’m not quite where to start this at the moment.  I watch stuff like Drag Race where 10 year old kids are confident to go to a convenient in drag and they accept that their sexual preference is most likely non-binary.  At 10!  And their parents are being supportive.  This I think is the world I would have loved to grown up in – where the airy-fairy artsy-farty bookish child could be encouraged.  I loved art!!!! OMG! Did I ever!  It was my favourite subject in school and getting to see a Pop Art exhibition at the State Gallery in 1984 was mindblowing!  Brisbane NEVER EVER GOT big shows – and there’s Andy Warhol soup cans, Roy Lichtenstien paintings and it’s funny the Lichtenstien painting I always thought had more of an impact on me.  There was also David Hockney’s Splash series – my god those paintings are amazing the grapic quality, the angles…. I’m a frustrated commercial artist at the end of the day!!!!  Well that was sort of a detour wasn’t it –laughs-

 

So anyway when I was growing up – I had no idea of what gay meant…

There wasn’t a clear notion of ‘gay’ – also considering that I grew up in a very conservative state that pretty much repressed any and all homosexual activity.  This is what democracy looks like kids!  There just was really anyone apart from the doctor in lost in space and grey haired dude from are you being served that were ‘gay’ – so basically the gay characters that you were exposed to were the ‘flamboyant’ gays and even one that really wasn’t (Dame Edna).  So basically to be gay you had to be overly flamboyant or a drag queen.  At least that was the impression I was left with.  There really didn’t seem to be a “middle’ ground – you know ‘normal’ people.   That wasn’t visible when I was growing up.  I’ll be honest – that’s fucking hard – you’re cast adrift into a sea of hormones, emotions and trying to find yourself and there’s nothing you can look at go that’s who I should be.

One of my childhood heroes is Jim Richards – one of the greatest racing drivers in Australia EVER!!!!!  There becomes that disconnect though where there’s that part of you that feels you don’t belong to that tribe.  “If I’m gay I shouldn’t have an interest in cars…” Gays are supposed artsy fartsy overly dramatic and lisp…   I was going somewhere with all this. 

 

So factoring my parents divorce and dramas evolving from that (Mother kept disappearing out of our lives) and as a teenager I am trying to find my place in the world – trying to find my tribes, my interests.  Some of my interests had commonality with my increasing interest in men.  I had a bit of a crush on Pat Cash – I look back at that now and it’s just like… yeah… nah…

 

I fooled around with a couple of guys I went to school with – nothing major – we were teenagers experimenting.  I personally thought nothing of it – I didn’t see it as being a big deal.  Now I don’t know if that was because I was gay or because we had always been told how liberal the Netherlands were and being dutch… yeah probably column a.  However there was always that part of me that thought I was doing the wrong thing because I had always been told it was wrong.

During this whole period I met the gay brother of one of Dad’s friends and I had a bunch of questions for him – the poor guy.  I admire his bravery though being openly gay and HIV+ in a time when it wasn’t accepted.  He was the first person that ever told me that I’m ok, I can be who I want to be and not worry what others think of me.

 

My main concern always was what would my family think if there was something different about me.  Now I never asked him any technical questions it was all mostly to do around the emotional stuff that you have to deal with when you’re growing up.  I will admit that growing up is probably easier for straight people as they don’t these “am I ok? Am I normal?” questions going their head constantly.  Then not even get into the lockerroom situation – at this point thankfully I was fat so I was also non-threatening…. So it never came up as such for me.  I was just universally detested for being fat, being gay, being mouthy – I really was sarcastic from a young age.  

 

So anyway keeping all that in mind...

I had moved out of home – I had totalled my car – I think it was move first and car second – there was a like a day or two between the two events.  So I moved in with a friend from school Michelle, she was actually a really nice girl.   We need a little bit more background here….

So this was Brisbane in the 90s – public transport sucked.  This literally was a city divided in two halves.  The river… I guess that’s why we are called the river city.  So anyway I was working in Taringa (up a fucking hill) and living in Herston (SO MANY fucking hills) and because I had no car…. I was walking 45 minutes each to the train station to get work – so say I’d a 5-6 hour shift and you can add 90 minutes to that for walking….  I started losing weight!  I LOST SO MUCH WEIGHT… I was 128kgs when I moved in when I moved home I was 93kgs and that was over the course of 5 months.  Not bad hey?  

 

It was also around the same time I ever got blonde highlights – we shan’t discuss that though (the things I did to my hair when I had it!).  Also pro-tip don’t carry free pizza on public transport – everyone will ask you for a slice… and then carrying it the 45 minutes to home…. Yeah… nah… not so convenient…

 

I did have a whole thing already written here and word decided to crash and take everything with it… lessons for me save more regularly.

 

Hopefully take 2 will be better written!

So taken everything into account Michelle was actually the first person to ask me flat out if I was gay.  I told her I honestly didn’t know – she suggested that what I should consider was having sex with a man and having sex with a woman.  I had sex with a man –winner winner chicken dinner- I have been literally joking for most of my life that I had sex with a man and that was it… I didn’t need to have to sex with woman.  “How would you know if you don’t try it?” – I’ll then ask if they’ve ever had sex with a man or a woman – “No!!!!” “How do you know if you don’t try it?”

I will hop on a slight high horse here – things seem easier for heterosexuals as there is none of this questioning, am I normal?  Is this just an attraction or am I {pick a letter of the alphabet}.  The impression that I do really get is that life is much more black and white for heterosexual people.

 

The next challenge at the end of the day was to get laid.  Anyway we’ll get to that in a bit… So after my conversation with Michelle I decided to investigate the male option – obviously that’s more where my attraction lay… - now at this point I was 19 – I was 93kgs and my self-worth and self-image were total crap… so anyway I bought an ‘outrage’ magazine – it literally took me three weeks to build up the courage to buy the damn thing.  I was made to feel even dirtier when it was given to me in a brown paper bag… YAY QUEENSLAND CENSORSHIP!!!! It was terrible, again I was being made to feel like I was somehow dirty or inferior or other.  I really can not being to explain how awful growing up gay in Queensland was.  So anyway I have this magazine which I have been made to feel is like a porn magazine and there’s articles that present points of view where gay people are ‘normal’ – it’s not the worst thing in the world to be gay.  So anyway there were personals at the back of the magazine and I will admit it took me a fair bit of time to answer one of them – admittedly I had no idea of what most of the acronyms and so on meant… so it took me a couple of weeks to respond to a few.  I think all of a sudden because I was a virgin (regardless of my self-image and self-esteem) it made me attractive.  I was petrified to give out my home number because all of a sudden I was worried that I might be branded as ‘gay’ – I will be honest that I had no idea of how bad the culture of fear and discretion existed in the gay community.  There is still a part of me that is quite saddened that gay men (including me) had to go through that.

 

Anyway a guy responded to my letter, I called him (again the amount of effort it took for me to do that) and asked me to go to Coolum for the weekend.  So here’s a funny story – we had sushi for lunch one day and I’m trying to prove how sophisticated and shit I am… there’s a ball of wasabi… at this point I didn’t realise that you were supposed to scrape off a little bit of wasabi and mix it with the soy sauce.  I ate the whole thing – straight down… bless his heart he tried his hardest to not laugh at me… he failed – oh looks it’s Michael doing what Michael does best… something stupid.  He and I ended up becoming lovers for a couple of months – he was a sweet guy, just a little bit creepy… he worked at a high school and liked his men without hair… so yeah… I done got shaved… I’m hairy as now in part because of him…  Another funny story (or not so funny) – when my first boyfriend and I broke up I became a clubber.  Most Saturday nights I’d be at one of the main gay clubs in Brisbane – drugged up to the eyeballs and dancing my arse off – I couldn’t dance to begin with but I was pretty!  It was also the start of my ‘muscle mary’ stage.  So anyway I’m grabbing a drink of water and this man taps me on the shoulder – “you look familiar!” – I sized him up – “Sorry do I know you?  I work in the city – you may have seen me there…”  It was probably a mean thing to do considering he was my first.  I remember him being a lot more attractive!  Which you know probably a lot of my ex-lovers would say that about me and they’re entitled too…

I was a rude prick when I knew I was attractive.  I will admit that much – I became a nasty gay.  I did also have a reputation for being a slut – it a slut if you’re easy?  Inquiring minds want to know?  -laughs-

 

So yes I finally worked out that I was gay.  Does that mean I came to terms with my sexuality?  I’d say not – I feel at times I am still trying to come to terms with it – but that’s just me, that’s me and my whole unique set of problems.  My self-image and sef-worth are so low that it gets all tangled up in this.  And it’s “almost” funny – 30 years on and I am dealing with the same sort of issues… they are my issues though – don’t me wrong, I know I’m gay, I’m queerer than a $3 bill.  It’s more about how I feel and my place in the world.

 

So yes I was gay, queer and fabulous…. –rolls eyes-

And then starts the whole process of coming out – the fact that as a gay man I had to do this really fucking shits me.  I shouldn’t have to say I’m gay – it’s not like someone goes oh hi I’m Bob – I’m heterosexual!”  Realistically I can’t say anyone can miss the fact that I’m gay – going by what people have told me its pretty obvious that I am that way inclined.  I shouldn’t have to come out… I’ve had to come out as gay, I’ve had to come out as being a gay parent, I’ve had to come out as a violent offender so on so forth… I seem to have to spend my life coming out – some I understand the violent offender thing – yeah that makes sense.  The gay man and gay parent thing no.  I am a person first and foremost – what difference does it make who I sleep with?  Apparently a lot… 

 

This will come later in a few posts – I am a huge believer in equality – we are all the same.  End of story – no ifs, no ands, no buts.  In gay and lesbian circles that actually makes me quite rare.  I’m the same as anyone else – I’m sure there’s no end of political discourse available on this and let’s just leave it where is it…

 

Anyway I started the process of coming out.  I think the first person I told was my best friend.  His response was “can’t you bisexual?” I can handle you being bisexual”  I asked him if he was heterosexual – he said yes – oh can’t you be bisexual? 

I really got petty – admittedly not as petty as some people…

I went to the movies with another friend Tiffany and I was being all serious and shit and told her that we was something we had to talk about – so we got some ice creams.  It was her shout and she got me a Golden Gaytime… I think she knew somehow… so I told her I was gay, no worries no fuss…

 

I told Michelle –laughs- (and this has become a question I have been asked many times) “did you sleep with a woman?” “no I slept with a man and I didn’t feel the need to sleep with a woman.”  For some reason people really have issues with this – how do you know if you have never gone there… would you sleep with a man?  Ewwww no… how do you know if you have never gone there?

Everyone always has an icky coming story….

So I told a friend I was gay, he seemed to be ok with it, he then told his next door neighbour who I also thought was a friend.  Anyway they gave me a couple of days to tell Dad that I was gay.  So this was 1991 technically homosexuality was still illegal and because it was Dad… IT WAS DAD!!!  Dad and I may have had our issues but he was my Dad.  So anyway I have never been so stressed in my life, the amount of time it took me to build up the courage to tell Dad I was gay… I told him and this does still make me kind of laugh “as long as your happy!”… Dad was seriously very chill at times.  I think it was also the whole 2^nd child thing.  I may have slightly flipped out… I think because of the amount of stress and anxiety – I said to him “what that’s it?”  I had obviously expected the worse, to be kicked out, homeless etc… That’s not my Dad though.

 

Telling my brother – he came back from fruit and cotton picking in WeeWaa (he had the most awesome drawl!) and he was sleeping on a mattress on the floor in my for a couple of days.  “Just so you know so you don’t feel uncomfortable – I’m gay” “yeah that’s cool”

So that was most of the coming out I had to – at the time and even now I realise how lucky I was coming out for me could have been much worse.  Even now you hear of horror stories.  So yes I got lucky… very lucky actually.  I’ll continue this in the next instalment!!!

The ‘recession’ we had to have…

 Before I go into the struggles of me trying to find a job or some of the life choices I made…

 

Let’s just revisit a couple of things from my time at high school… so I’m sure everyone has at least one underage drinking story – I used to sneak into a club called city rowers – even in the 80s it was a bit of a dive… I did have my first guy try to pick me up though – when I told I was 15 he freaked out – AS YOU WOULD!  After that we decided to hotfoot it out of there before I got busted for being there underage – nevermind the following week I was there again.

 

I really was a bit of a rebel –laughs-

 

I realise it seems probably a smidge tame… it gets worse though – I was a little bit more than a rebel.  I developed a crush on a bad boy – he had this grand dream of joining the NRA – I do know how to pick them… I really do.  Anyway, he was a bit of a troublemaker and I think his Mother was hoping I’d be a positive influence on him.  Yeah so that worked out really well for me…  He was into stealing cars, I had a gun fired in front of my face – not something I’m going to ever forget… he was basically crazy – it just took me a while to work that out – another one of Michael’s life mistakes made because of a man –laughs- and I had no idea at this point I was gay…  I really didn’t… He had so much potential to get me into so much trouble – I had so much potential to get myself into trouble realistically – and I literally dodged a bullet.

 

I finished High School in November 1990 and my results were crap – I joked for years that my results were that bad that I couldn’t even get into the University of New England – it was notorious for taking the ‘dregs’ or ‘failures’ from school.  So I decided to repeat Grade 12 – well that was a mistake… I became rather cocky and a bit of a smartass because I was over 18.  I was told flatout that I wasn’t running that years formal committee and my help wasn’t wanted… seems high school loved me as much as I did it.  I finally got to do Maths in Society – wow!  Just wow!  It was so basic and I was seeing people struggling with it so I really didn’t know what to make of that… I lasted a term before I decided that repeating at the same school wasn’t the best idea as I was still being picked on.  In those days there was no support offered for bullying and it just got swept under the carpet – granted too I was labelled as a troublemaker – I remember getting called into the principals office as I had been caught smoking just off-school grounds – now because I was over 18, there was ‘technically’ nothing the school could do to discipline me.

To be honest I had no idea of what I was going to do with my life… I pretty much goofed off for my first year of unemployment – wealthy people call it a gap year – I call it watching daytime tv… Donahue and Sally Jesse – I have so much love for them.  I think it was those sort of trashy tv shows that started the idea forming that I was gay.  I finally got my licence in 1991 – it only took me 2 years… Dad decided that he was going to buy myself and my brother a car.  The loan Dad applied for was a car loan so the majority of the money had to be spent on one car – he didn’t agree with that so would spend days arguing on the phone with the credit union.  So I got my first car – it cost $9000 – I loved that car, I would polish that thing within an inch of it’s life.  So here was I at 128kgs squeezing myself into this tiny 1981 Honda Prelude (red[ish] of course) – I’d get the odd strange look as I heaved myself out… the other funny thing when I was growing up we had a german shepherd named Jaws – he was like 48kgs and anytime he saw my car door open he’d jump in the car… I could barely fit in the car so you’d have the dog with his head out of the sunroof and you’d have the top of my head just appearing.  I’m sure it was comical… I had 3 accidents in the car – the last one seeing the end to my poor little car.  When I had the car I started delivering pizzas for Silvio’s (which got bought out by Domino’s) and I think we were at the Christmas Party or something…. I was the designated driver at that stage (I didn’t drink believe it not) – was heading down Mt Ommaney road – aquaplaned – spun a couple of times and bye bye 1981 Honda Prelude… I still have nightmares about this… anyway this all happened down the road from the fire station so we went to get the Firies – I got my first proper ride in a fire engine – lights, sounds, everything.  One of the Firies looked at the car, looked at me “you should be dead mate” – Honda Preludes have what are referred to as clamshell bonnets and the latches don’t always hold.  The next thing you know I’m sitting in the gutter crying like a crazed banshee.  Dad did try buying me a replacement car but the credit union wasn’t having a bar of it – probably for the best…

 

So as a aside from when I bought Prelude – the dealer was also the authorised dealer for the original NSX – such a gorgeous car… anyway I had bought a wheels magazine to read on the train and it had “details” on the next generation Prelude (92 model) and as the dealers generally tend to not get told anything about upcoming models – they photocopied the article and as a thank you – they were going to let me drive the NSX to get my car. Probably one of the most nerve racking drives of my life – I’m 19 and behind the wheel of a $150k (in those days) supercar.  Now you might be thinking nerve racking – I’d take it easy… yeah you’d think so… -laughs- Anyway I just thought it was a really nice gesture.

 

So I guess this one of those things people could never figure about me – I’m a car nerd – I love cars – I have 0 mechanical aptitude, it’s took me half a day to change the sparkplugs and oil filter on my Prelude.  I’d be at the carshow every year – I have photos somewhere from the 1990 Brisbane Motorshow – they had a green BMW Z1 and I peppered the folks with questions about it – it didn’t take me long to work out that people working motorshows are just salespeople and will generally just tend to humour teenagers.

 

I guess I just found the automotive industry interesting for a logistical perspective, why they made the choices they made for different markets so I guess the marketing perspective and I developed a skill that I could pretty much recognise any car – really one of the worlds most useful skills to have…

 

I remember that I had this interview (absolutely no idea what it was for – it’s 30 years ago… Christ) and the person interviewing me basically said that because my results were such a mixed bag and my artistic portfolio was a bit childish (which it was – I can’t draw) – I don’t even think my school had a camera… how much different would my life have been if they did… Anyway she said because of my high school results I needed to look at further education and she did actually suggest TAFE (community/technical college) as a means of improving myself and giving me a point of difference in the job market.  As I had missed the cut-off for full-time admission I ended up enrolling in a couple of night classes Accounting and Economics.  Yes… indeed… IT’S NOT LIKE EITHER OF THESE SUBJECTS ARE MATH BASED!!!!  So I became part-time student at TAFE… not that 2 subjects helped my any BUT anyway…

 

So I totalled my car and you’d think I’d be unemployed again… you’d think – my managers actually liked me.  So I went from delivery to pizza making – honestly to any vegetarians that got ham on their pizza – I am really, really sorry but when you are flat out and using vegies that also get used for meat pizzas…

 

Oh I forgot about the time I left school in Grade 10 – I got a job selling alarm systems door to door in Browns Plains… I think for the two weeks I had the job I sold nada – zip – zero… $1500 for an alarm that just sits in a corner in a brand low-socio-economic area.  Not one of my better ideas.  Anyway one night after work we ended up someone’s house in Indooroopilly – I was 15 – so we’re having a few beers and bucket bongs.  From what I’ve discovered bucket bongs seem to be almost just a Queensland thing.  Anyway I was massively wasted and I did kind of sort of live across the river from Indooroopilly so I decided to walk home – I was literally stoned out of my gourd… small tip don’t walk across a bridge stoned – you’ll thank me.

 

I also moved out of home for the first time… -cue dramatic music- and that leads into the young me coming out –gasp- YOU MEAN YOU’RE GAY?!?!?!