God Doesn't Give You the People You Want

"God doesn't give you the people you want, he gives you the people you need. To help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you and to make you the person you were meant to be." - Unknown

Remembering a Timid Guy from the Sauna Last Year

The memory I'm about to recount continues after my faux pas at the gay sauna last year. What I saw and experienced in such specific bathhouses opened my eyes to another world of human behaviour I never thought existed. For the first time in my virgin life, I was exposed to the act of cruising for what it is in a practical field. Where men with the knowledge that animal instinct is the modus operandi here, prowl and circulate the bath in search of other hot guys. 

While I was there, I remember noticing another timid guy in glasses hovering around the other hot guys. Me and him were always alone and wandering, a clear sign that we weren't really getting anybody. I knew my sympathy went out to him, but deep down, I was also heavily affected about myself. 

At that point, I remember trying to come to terms with what it means to be naked in an environment where the kind of person you are, what you are, who you are, what you do in life, what your status of wealth says, doesn't matter at all to the very last bit within those walls. It also made me wonder how attractive does a guy have to be in order not to feel left out when one visits such a place.

So after my friendly talk in the steam room chased everyone away, the timid guy in glasses turned to me and acknowledged that we were from the same country. "Damn. Just my luck! What are the odds of wanting to be in a foreign environment where you could explore this taboo side of life without having to worry if a fellow citizen from the same country would be here", I ranted from the back of my head.

But as I recalled how he too was having such a lonely time in the sauna, I threw all preconceived notions out the window in the spirit of wanting to be a kind acquaintance. We spoke in English for a bit and afterwards, switched to a local language in which he was better at conversing in. It was obvious that he was happy that there was somebody he could talk to. Then it begin to dawn on me how rude it was to talk in the sauna, but I didn't know how to tell him to stop so I let things be.

From the conversation, I learnt that he has been working illegally in a restaurant up north for about 3 years without any papers. His father owns a small grocery shop in a small mining town back home, and his mother was somewhere in North America working in manual labour. He came to this country in search of a better chance at earning foreign currency.

When asked what his future plans are, he said he plans to earn more money, save up and probably go home to his father. His parents don't know nothing about his current life or situation. Upon hearing his story, my heart went out to him even more. I guess maybe it's because I truly understand from the core of my heart what having to be in his position really means. I am aware, and I know. As I looked at him, I remember thinking what a tough phase of life he's going through on top of having to be gay from where we come from.

However in terms of gratitude, it made me realise that I came from a place where I had better access to lots of different things such as getting a tertiary education, living abroad and being exposed to the world and its people like I never thought of before. But most importantly, it made me realise that despite the depressing condition that I'm in, I have a family that I can go home to. A family that would hear-me-out if I told them the truth because they love me. 

He told me that he was here in this city because he didn't know any gay saunas from where he lived, and that he hoped to find someone special in here. I silently felt even worse for him because he was practically invisible at the sauna. It was obvious that the men surrounding us were all good-looking, hot, successful in their careers, well to do, confident and extremely far from our league.

As he continued to make conversation, I realised that time was ticking and that I came in here to have fun. Even though I don't seem to be piquing anybody's interest, I still owed it to myself to at least try and get some action. I excused myself from him politely and moved away. Somewhere in between my trying to engage other guys for some fun, he lingered around and followed me wherever I went. It came to a point where he was very clingy but I didn't have the heart to tell him I wasn't looking for anything more than just conversation.

I ended up in the Jacuzzi after some action between numbered guys. He spotted me and requested to feel me up for some fun. I just couldn't indulge him because I wasn't feeling any attraction and it would have felt somewhat weird. I steadily declined in a friendly manner and suggested that we remain as acquaintances. "Well whaddya know M, you're just like any other guy in here who rejects people", the inner voice scolds.

After nearly about 4 hours in the sauna, he finally mentioned he was leaving. He requested that I went out with him to the lockers so that he can give me his email. I accepted the piece of paper even though I had no intention of keeping in touch. I was at a point in life where I was just so negative with my gay self that experimenting was all I had in mine. I was also trying to work on my sense of homophobia. But whatever it is, I will always remember him because he made me realise a lot of things. I hope he's doing well and I hope he found someone good because I think he deserves one.

When Face With 2 Choices, Simply Toss a Coin

"When face with two choices, simply toss a coin. It works not because it settles the question for you, but because in that brief moment when the coin is in the air, you suddenly know what you are hoping for." - Unknown

My Faux Pas at the Sauna Last Year

At the beginning of last year, I wrote extensively about what happened during my second attempt at visiting a gay sauna alone for the first time. There were a couple of scenes I left out because I didn't think it was important, but looking back now, I realised how those things have indirectly determined how far I've come in my journey.

For those who doesn't know, a gay sauna is a men-only bathhouse catered specifically for guys to have fun. You pay an entrance fee, you get a towel and a locker key with a colour-coded wristband. You strip down to only a towel around the waist and go wander around amidst other men to have some fun.

So there was a point in my visit where I found myself cramped into a small steam room with about 14 other men. No action was happening and my guess was because nobody was interested in nobody. Everybody was either just sitting around or leaning their backs against the cedar wood-cladded wall. There were sounds of people breathing and coughing.

I didn't know anything about sauna or cruising etiquette. I was me. A struggling closeter trying to get a taste of the adult gay world. I wasn't getting any action at all and I didn't know how. As I observed how silent the steam room was, I thought I could play the friendly traveller card and get people to respond. Because who doesn't like a friendly traveller?

As I listen to the breaths and the steam, I grew a thick face and said: "So! Is everyone here just gonna keep quiet?", I kept a cool smile as the echo of my sentence bounced off the walls.

The steam room was in shock because somebody had spoken in a sexually charged air. It was uncomfortable, it was awkward and it was everything a cringe-worthy moment is. Guys who were looking down on the floor looked up, guys with arms folded re-adjusted their posture, guys who were silent coughed to clear their throats. There was also a small subtle chuckle in the background as everybody tried to ignore what just happened.

Seeing as there was a response and not having gotten the hint myself, I proceeded with another sentence and went: "So! Do you guys all live here in this city?" Somebody answered: "No" from the background while others remained silent. There was a little acquaintance session going on between me and one or two guys but people were getting annoyed and some have even started to think about exiting the steam room.

"Really! Then where are you guys from?", I responded in a friendly manner. But that was the last straw I pulled as people started leaving the steam room, effectively freeing up so much space all of a sudden. Two guys on their way out responded a friendly: "Australia!" to me before going out the door.

What's All that Depression Fuss About?

Thought I'd write a little bit about how I'm doing. About 2 months back, I made the decision to stop my intake of antidepressants because I felt like I should start being mentally independent without having to rely on them. The fact that I was distracted with a working life of Mondays to Fridays, sometimes even over the weekends, my true feelings and state of being were temporarily no longer my priority.

But for the past 2 weeks, my boat has been rocking turbulently, putting me on an emotional yo-yo. I could be so firm, so in control  and so okay with my life one minute, but so tumultuous, negative and sad the next. Two nights ago, I was in such ridiculous shape I didn't know how to handle my emotions or compose myself. I was heavily affected by the smallest of harmless thoughts such as uncertainty of the future or moving away from home.

I have no idea where this is all suddenly coming from, but at this stage I will probably resume my intake of medication again and re-consult the doctor who first gave it to me. What I'm worried of is if I will ever be free of it soon to live an independent life for myself. Heck I don't even know what this pattern of emotional behaviour is about but it's affecting me.

While on the subject of emotional well-being, I recently discovered a couple of blogs out there of other depressed souls who turned to writing. What I read sounded ridiculous although there are parts in which I can relate to, but it also woke me up on how the writing of an unfiltered depress mind can be perceived by an outsider as unnecessary self-pity that could come off as what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-this-guy, what-is-his-problem or what-is-the-big-deal?

When I started coming out to more people this year, a handful of them in my circle actually asked me what the hell went on back there? Of how things got so blown up, what all that big fuss was about and how I ended up being so defeated in the low. My answer to them was I don't know. It is difficult, if not impossible for me to come up with a logical explanation for why I couldn't handle life.

All I knew was that apart from coming to terms with my homosexuality, I was also juggling with another upsetting problem then. The whole thing weighed me down so bad that I think having an emotional meltdown was probably my own way of coping, and because every human being is blessed with different levels of resilience. I know I probably wasn't very smart in handling myself, but at least I knew how courageous and strong of a person I can be. Sometimes I wonder, had I not gone through that extreme dark period of low, would I still be alive and coping today?

Looking back at all that was written within 2012, I could only say that those depressive thoughts and feelings were every bit real, and every bit radioactively harmful as they were. Those unfiltered emotions that were the inner raw thoughts of me did come directly from someone who was mentally incarcerated in a depressive state of mind drowning in fear, uncertainty and negativity. Whatever it was and still is, I will not try to justify because it will be paralysing to retard myself in the past.

However, the surprising thing that came out of it all I'd say, is that I'm immensely grateful for having established Gay & Invisible and being able to rely on this white space to heal my wounds. I never thought writing could provide me with such priceless form of self-therapy. The constant embarrassing honesty and words spilled here has in many ways, helped me understand myself better and at the same time, immortalised my journey and issues in black and white. 

Not only has it become the backbone for which I will continue to lean on to for support as I grow older in life, but I'd also like to think that it successfully played a part in sheltering other guys out there who are in need of comfort amidst their own struggles.

I will end this post with an interesting article on TIME.com titled: How Writing Heals Wounds of Both the Mind and Body


UPDATED: 24th August 2013
Here's an interestingly helpful input from Naturegesetz, extracted from the comments section of this post.

I get the impression that lots of people do what you did. Maybe they don't like the side effects, or maybe they just don't want to have to keep taking the medicine because it makes them feel weak or something. It's good that you recognized that in your case, as in most others, the result was not good.

You write, "What I'm worried of is if I will ever be free of it soon to live an independent life for myself."

I understand this to mean "to be free of drugs so as to live a life independent of them," although I see it could also mean "to be free of depression so as to live a life independent of drugs."

Either way, I think what is needed is to be free of the depression, and your experience shows you that you need some kind of medication for that. So I don't think you should see getting off the meds as necessary to your life. People whose legs don't function properly need wheelchairs to get around and elevators to get from one floor to another. It would be unrealistic for them to decide to ditch the wheelchair and the elevators and start walking up the stairs.

The medications aren't the problem. The depression is. Of course, if you can ever overcome it to the extent that you don't need any drugs, that will be great.

Hang in there.