Sep 13

Sexuality Struggle

So Am lying on the cold cement and I can hear people whispering around me, I wonder what is happening, I feel like my feet are soaked in really cold water, yet as much as I try to move am not able to, I can feel a dry spot somewhere but I just can’t reach it, am spinning, my head hurts, where am i? No, No, No, not the spinning again and its lights out. I woke up in a hospital bed with tubes in my nose and a drip on my hand and there I knew things had taken a really bad turn.

I had always been a straight forward and morally correct guy ever since I can remember until I went to a party in Westlands. It was a friend’s bachelor party and as usual booze and girls dressed in skimpy outfits were in plenty. There I met Tim who was the funny guy at the party and made everyone laugh, I liked his confident demeanor and I can remember my friend Tony jokingly saying that if he was one of the girls at the party he would very much “funga” him. The party progressed on till very late and Tim offered to drop Tony and I home, we dropped Tony off in Kileleshwa and as we headed back to campus, I couldn’t help but wonder why Tim appeared to have taken sudden interest in my personal affairs, I brushed this off as I was quite high.

In the weeks that followed, Tim and I met frequently for drinks, dinner, out of town drives, occasional gift drop offs etc. Tim had a good life and I wanted it. On his way out of the country for a business trip, he came by my room and left me with some party money and a few pills “to keep me happy till his return” he said. Looking back, I should have taken a few steps back on our friendship that day, but I dint. I convinced myself that as a young man about to finish campus I needed such friends if I was to be successful. Tim came back after a week and he invited me for a house party, he however requested that I go in a bit early to help him out with the planning. When I arrived at Tim’s house all I could do was admire everything he had, money was clearly not a problem for this guy. I must admit I am a tad bit impressionable. By the time the party officially started I had taken three ecstasy pills and half a bottle of Remy Martin. Needless to say for a social drinker this was suicide.

I woke up the next morning in Tim’s bed in a rather compromising situation and I knew something had happened between us, I could remember Tim being very affectionate at the party but I brushed it off for one reason or the other. As I got out of bed I felt a sudden need to drink and sure enough I found left over drinks all over the house. Next, I needed to be out of this shameful house, how did I get here? Since when do I play around with drugs? I like girls, so why I am playing around with men? I searched for my jacket and literally ran out of the house, on my way back to campus, I felt like everyone was staring at me, as if everyone knew what I had done, i couldn’t get back to my room fast enough and sleep everything off. In the days that followed I did my best to stay high and steer clear of all my friends, I was too ashamed to face anyone let alone be sober while doing so.

I was fully aware that I was slipping into alcoholism and i had developed a taste for prescription pills, yet each time I was with Tim, I kept saying it was for the last time, and as time went by each last time drove me further and dipper into drugs, the drugs were good, they made me forget my transgressions, they enabled me to face my friends and family, they gave me the confidence to walk straight amongst other men and most of all, they made my relationship with Tim appear to be normal.

Soon, my grades began to plummet, my family was on my back about my binge drinking and bad grades, my friend Tony did his best to avoid me, rumors were circulating about my sexuality, Tim had a thing or two to say about my drug use! No one wanted to be associated with me. As hard as I tried to dispel the rumors they followed me everywhere, I went on a whole new low trying to prove the community wrong.

The struggle between what the society expected me to be and what I had become began to overwhelm me, i could no longer think straight, I was confused from morning till dawn, my health began to deteriorate and my life seemed hopeless. Tim was no longer interested in our friendship and that damaged my cash flow, I began to borrow money from strangers, occasionally I could go home and steal a thing or two, the only friend I had were the hood guys who let me have a puff of their blunts. I had become this despicable excuse of a man who once had a bright future ahead of him. Each time my mum saw me all she could do was cry, my siblings avoided me like a plague and my dad! Well, I was dead to him. This state of hopelessness is what gave me the idea of committing suicide the first time, I tried jumping off from the fourth floor of a building but all I got were a few broken ribs, fractured leg and a couple of days in hospital.

Three days after discharge, I was back at it again, this time I settled on prescription pills for my exit out of this dammed life. Armed with a number of a dormicum pills I set out for my usual joint for some drinks, with money stolen from my mum’s purse I settled on a whole bottle of whisky. The music was good, there were groups of people chatting away, a couple was dancing to the music, some ladies were laughing really loud about something and two men seemed to be in an argument. These are the few memories I have of the night before waking up in hospital with tubes in my nose and a drip on my hand, I heard a soft voice call my name and I turned towards it and there I saw a lady who would be with me on my journey to recovery. The lady spoke to me in-depth about what I was going through and assured me that there was hope at the end of it all.

This is my sixth month in rehab and I must admit the struggle has not been easy, many are time when I want to just pack my bags and go. Some days I wake up very hopeful and others are filled with remorse and guilt but I know am in a much better place than I was before. I am grateful to my family for giving me another chance to try and work out my life and my relationship with them. I know I hurt then terribly and I will understand if they don’t find it easy to forgive me, as for my friends it is still work in progress. Am optimistic that one day we will all walk on the same path of happiness.

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