Friday, 13^th May 2016

Dearest friend,

The last week has been a boring one; I’ve been feeling so restless lately that I’ve been on the lookout for new ways of enjoying myself.

There seems to be progress made within my counselling sessions…but I can’t deny that I leave feeling more hopeless and desperately unhappy (as a result of connecting with my past).

I can’t seem to gauge what’s the cause for these continuous cycle of emotions, but instinct tells me that I haven’t enough distractions to out-do the brooding… Once I fully accepted this possibility last week, when Saturday came I made sure to have a smile on my face!

I spoke to Philo about my feelings of going away for the weekend, and she was all behind me so long as it felt right. I certainly did feel I needed the break, so I followed my intuition and decided on going out for a night in Dublin. I booked a hostel in advance so that I would be all sorted with accommodation.

I got the Saturday evening train from Galway at about 7:15p.m. and relaxed myself for the near three-hour journey till I reached Heuston Station.

There was something exhilarating about getting away from the everyday; watching the train whizz by at full speed offered such an adrenaline rush. I was so excited to discover what the upcoming night may bring me; it made me feel so in control and confident that only good vibes would show themselves…

I remember thinking: “Now I feel from it all!”; from the pain, from the usual, from myself – as I glimpsed at the sun dissolving into darkness.

First thing I did once I arrived in Dublin was sign in at the Generator Hostel and ready myself for the bars and clubs I’d head off to. I wore a dark shirt with navy blue jeans and my desert boots to go with the outfit.

Once I was all showered and ready, I headed for The George (a gay bar) at about midnight.

As always is the case weekends, there was a great many people queuing up outside the nightclub. I got a few stares from people as I approached the back of the line (probably because I appeared as a loner being all by myself), but I didn’t care for appearances anymore at this point; I was too busy embracing the good feels!

It’s not every day I feel this content and bubbly, so I wasn’t going to allow judgement to intervene; either that be through the piercing eyes of others or even my own embedded insecurities.

There was something about seeing crowds of others in good spirits aspire the same joy within me; simply from witnessing people experience their own bliss.

Even as an observer, I could recognize people lose themselves in these sweet escapes – the music that united people with the heart of the night, a particular other who held them in an embrace, and the hot taste of alcohol meeting their tongue and taking away all cares…

It occurred to me, as I observed these things, that escapes into the night are intimate interactions for humans to relieve emotions of the world and set themselves free from stressors, or for a better word serve contact as a way to function.

It seems grave from the way I describe it in writing, but I’ve always found the human struggle to be a beautiful act of creation; a signal in the process bringing a person further down the path to discovering their own truth – that is, should they decide to seek meaning from their actions.

I know, I know… It seems pathetic that I might consider these insights when assessing others enjoy their own, but couldn’t possibly envision myself through trial and error as something that’s making progress in the grand scheme of things!

It’s quite evident that this makes me a bit of a hypocrite; I mean, who am I to speculate the strengths and weaknesses of another, when I’m still too cowardly to correct things in my own life, or make changes?

I believe we all have our own way in figuring things out, or coping in reasoning. Sometimes we don’t have reasons in our experimenting, or a cause that motivates us, but rather understand meanings that speak for us in the way life affects us…

At the moment, for me personally, I’ve needed space from everything having to do with my childhood; for so long I focused on seeking answers that might transform my life, that I looked beyond things in the everyday that were a treasure in the process – things which otherwise were signs of achievement and reassurance…

By this I mean the wonderful friends and people that never doubted me. But that’s the thing; in this moment I can say for sure that these are all things that bring me gratitude and the sense that I belong somewhere.

When I’m deeply depressed and filled with self-loathing, I become so withdrawn and emotionally numb that any kind word coming my way end up being simply that – words that seem so distant in comparison to any resemblance I could imagine myself having…

Of course, when I’m with my friends I never show these feelings of ingratitude or of being spiteful; in fact, it’s quite the opposite!

To tell you the truth, when in the company of friends, I put on a brave face and keep inner concerns to myself; enquiring more about the happenings in their lives, or offering a supportive approach.

My belief is that I need to be strong for my friends and a source of good company; not in any way miserable or bringing negative vibes…

But at the moment I’m not in a good place mentally, so I especially don’t want to cause them any distress. For this reason, I’ve kept my distance to best benefit them, even though I care for them immensely and they’re in my thoughts daily…

This is another reason I decided to seek a weekend away from the every day stresses, because (of course) I need outlets for expression and coping… Visiting Dublin certainly provided that for me, in its own intimate and tragic way.

As I got myself another drink of Vodka Coke and pretty much got carried away in thought by people-watching, and laughing wholeheartedly at the entertainment provided by DJ drag queens on stage, suddenly a handsome gentleman from the bar struck up a friendly conversation with me. He was flirting, of course, and asking if I wanted to get up and dance to his favourite song (Show me love by Robin Schulz), but I raised my glass to indicate I wasn’t ready; I would never leave drinks unintended, so I stayed put.

Surprisingly, he didn’t shift from my presence and seek out the next guy (as I half expected), but he was happy to stay talking away and getting to know me.

Before long, I finished my drink and felt comfortable enough to take to the dancefloor with him. He was a good dancer and even seemed quite shy under the spotlight, as we moved with the groove of the music.

Then he said I had beautiful eyes and a gorgeous face, and with that I giggled and asked him to say something honest. To this he gave me a strong kiss on the lips and put his arms around me.

And for just a moment, I felt really alive; truly connected with my body, and liked the senses it was bringing me…

That’s when I knew this sense of touch and feeling is what I was yearning for. I kissed him back, this time more passionately, as we unified with the soul of music and danced…

That hour spent with Spencer was truly magnificent; he brought me back something in myself I had locked away, sexual expression.

At some point I lost him near closing time at the bar, when there was a huge crowd in ques heading for the exits. He must have assumed I left; what a pity…

Upon leaving I heard a pair of men talking about the next place to go for gays – I assumed it was a nightclub, so I asked them where. They weren’t in the least shy but in fact obliged to give me directions.

They giggled at my ignorance and let me figure it out for myself, as I came to the exit doors at this point.

I tapped into Goggle Maps on my phone and got to the destination only around the corner...

It seemed too quiet and desolate to be a bar, especially down an alleyway, but curiosity got the better of me and I still lingered on – as the place was clearly open, and I was too buzzed up to head straight back to the hostel.

Once I came in the door I seen a glassed window, like a secured reception, and was asked by a topless man in shorts my age.

I told him so and then he asked me the embarrassing question: “Are you aware this is a gay sauna?”

No, I didn’t know, and I had never known about one before that. Even still, I was wild enough to ask if I could have a look around. I had to pay the cost of €15 and was given a locker key and towel. Because my locker key was coloured green, I was on the upper second floor, near a smoking area.

As soon as I walked into the complex, I could see men naked and/or wearing the towels around their waist. I felt too overdressed and could sense the onlookers penetrating eyes on me, so I hurried on.

It was a very peculiar experience at first sight…

Once I found my allocated locker, I quickly undressed out of my party clothes and wrapped the towel around my waist. It was certainly a sauna; there was a hot temperature and odour of sweat in the air, unbearable for someone walking around in full outfit.

On the other hand, there was something strangely amusing about seeking this place out – and getting the wanting looks from other gay men as I hoovered around.

I don’t know; I guess for a moment I wanted to feel attractive and sexy, a little, so I had no problem having my body seen.

In the full discovery of the place, there had four floors in the building; the reception, locker rooms and coffee bar at the bottom, another locker area on the second floor, as well as a TV room for Adult Entertainment, besides that a section for private massage (or in the day free Rapid HIV testing) and two lavatories.

On the third floor there’s toilet cubicles on the right and to the left a sauna room, three private rooms in the centre beside the jacuzzi exposed in the main area, and another served as the steam room.

The upper floors from there serves mainly of larger number of private play room and at the top what they call a “dark room”. I should mention that they also have shower sections, of course, beside the smoking area. Those working in the coffee bar also give out free condoms and lubrications for safe sex, as obvious in such a sexually driven environment it’s needed.

I know I should feel guilty about the whole experience, but exploring myself sexually has had the effect of allowing me to destress and feel somehow content in my body. It sounds crazy, I know, because I’m also aware it runs the risks of maybe catching an STI, but I’ve played safe and took precaution… I hadn’t been sexually active in so long, so once I tapped into that part of me, it gave such sweet relief!

Once I more or less finished investigating the core of this bathhouse, I headed down to the coffee bar for a drink of tea and snack.

The scene felt quite comical; try picturing a group of nude men sitting around respectively watching the news on the plasma television attached to the wall, or alternatively sitting at a table reading the newspaper about political updates, with the sound on mute, of course, and the sensual music taking over as an atmospheric feel throughout the whole building.

It was hard to imagine that above our heads various people were practicing hardcore sex!

Despite any slight prejudices in the back of my mind, about this place and its seedy nature, I can’t deny that as a coping mechanism surrounding the turmoil it gave my mind sanctuary from close insanity…

Of course, the battle was facing up to my inner demons and looking at the consequences of my behaviour and attitude, inspired through counselling.

But recently, I reached bursting point and needed some escapism, to save myself from falling into deep sorrow of which had no return… I would go insane if I were to let myself go that far, especially without being in the fit state of mind to know how to keep myself grounded and collected.

I guess a subconscious part of me has been resisting my body feeling the full impact of it’s pain and trauma, and so hasn’t been ready to cause itself with so much more vulnerability on it’s own…

What I’m trying to say is, connecting with inner-hurts can cause a person to feel so isolated – and as I have little support in my family dynamic of which to depend, there’s been no signs of an end… In other words, when you’re a realist and know the people you love can’t offer you the guidance you need, or are incapable to provide it, it certainly can result in you being subdued by the fact. And for that reason, I’ve needed more than talk-therapy to emotionally survive!

Seeking reassurances from my dear friends seemed too repetitive and desperate, so I’ve saved them the trouble of seeing me this boring and needy…

I imagine for any genuine friend (from their perspective), once you see that we’re not reaching our goals and are constantly seeking their good attentions, there comes a point where they become fed up playing the sympathy role and will sure offer the hint; get over it already!

As of late, none of my wonderful friends has reached this stage; in fact, their ignorant of my whereabouts and are kept in the dark. It upsets me a great deal, too, that I haven’t kept my promise in so as confiding with my pals about anything bothering me, or better yet turning to them as a means for solace…

Something within me has changed; no longer am I the self-assured, assertive young man with an esteem of hope, but rather I have become a dull creature who looks over his shoulder and is just trying to get by… Depression has overwhelmed me; it is the voice I hear within my head and the dark world I now envision, every inch of my identity feels defeated!

So, judge me you might for my actions, and dismiss my reasons for your ignorance, but all I can say is: the spirit wanders many valleys till it reaches its vast potential!

This is how I see my experiences playing out; merrily moving from one moment to the next, seeking anything that gives peace of mind and the feeling you’ve control in things…

Ultimately, my acting out through sex has been a better release than sitting in my room in tears!

More later,

Jay.

Waytogo's Dear Diary