This guest post comes from Rick, the blogger behind the site Mystical Bear. Rick talks vulnerably and courageously about his journey as a sensitive man who also happens to be gay in this piece.
Mystical Bear, Rick’s blog has a threefold purpose: “An experiment to help overcome PTSD, depression, and anxiety. A way to rediscover the voice lost years ago. A motivational tool to help write the novel that’s haunted me for years.”
Over to Rick Now!
“I don’t bother anyone,
Nervous when I stand.
Choking on the circumstance,
Only smoking second hand.”
(From Choker by Twenty One Pilots)
I became a fan of Twenty One Pilots rather late in the game — just this year in fact. Sure, I’ve heard their name on the radio but I never knew any of their songs. Then, after Level of Concern started appearing in my playlists on YouTube, I began to pay attention. A few months later, I find I can’t get enough of these guys.
I guess I should also tell you I’m probably not in their usual demographic — I’m 63, so there’s that.
Why the sudden interest?
Sure, they’ve got some great tunes. But it was their lyrics that grabbed me — they reflect so much of my own life as a highly sensitive senior gay man. Take the song Choker, for instance.
It speaks of someone always choking (failing to step up and perform) when faced with difficult situations. The last line of the quote at the beginning of this post describes this person as never doing anything for themselves — they wait for others to act and then they satisfy themselves with the leftover byproduct.
I know this feeling all too well. Sit down, shut up, don’t rock the boat.
Before I go further, though, let me introduce myself. My name’s Rick, I’m an INFJ and a Type 4 wing 5 on the Enneagram. Based on Dr. Elaine Aron’s HSP self-test, I’m a pretty strong HSP with 23 positive responses out of 27.
Growing up as a Highly Sensitive Gay Man in a Conservative Place
I grew up in conservative northern Indiana in the 60s and mid 70s. Being gay and out was unheard of at the time and I learned to sublimate my feelings quickly after seeing how more effeminate classmates were treated. It also didn’t help that my father was a strict, abusive man who never hesitated to beat me and my siblings for the slightest infraction.
As the oldest, I seemed to “deserve” it the most, especially when I reacted in any sort of “unmanly” manner. Education was for sissies; hard physical labor and elbow grease were how you got ahead in the world. He quit school when he was 14; to be a man, I should do the same thing and find some macho job to slave at for the rest of my life. And if that got too much, there was always booze to deaden the pain. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem very desirable with me being an Honor Society student.
I was caught in a constant battle.
Growing up straight would have been difficult in the circumstances; being gay on top of it was just too much for me. School was where most of the gay-related taunts occurred. I couldn’t lose the only good thing in my life. Thus, I turned to conservative religion as a way to overcome my desires and suffered through close-to-10-years of further self-condemnation, guilt, and shame. (I came out in 1980.) I felt overwhelmed much of the time, with no one to talk with and no support except for myself.
Even education eventually proved a bust — I was asked to leave a conservative Bible college halfway through my junior year when I confessed to having gay feelings (just feelings, mind you – I hadn’t acted on anything yet.) It didn’t matter I was on the Dean’s List – being queer negated everything else about me.
During this time, I learned different ways to help me survive.
- Like many HSPs, I learned to “read a room” — to pick up on subtle energies wherever I went. This helped immensely at home when a wrong move or comment could mean a back or legs covered in welts from an attack with a belt or plastic jump rope.
- Even though no words were spoken, I could pick up on other’s feelings and became an unintentional “savior” whenever I could, attempting to ease the pain others were going through.
- I learned that overstimulation meant that I couldn’t process all the cues fast enough which meant possible danger. (Even now, I find it difficult to go into a Trader Joe’s or a Costco during busy times. I just freeze and have to move to some corner & away from others while my spouse carries on with the shopping.)
Navigating Sensitivity that Has Trauma Mixed in It
I’ve come a long way — it’s been a long haul through many years of therapy dealing with some pretty deep depression, anxiety and PTSD. And I wish I could say that I’m completely healed but I can’t. It seems as if the least bit of conflict causes my internal Choker to make himself known once again.
Take, for example, this past Christmas — I was part of an LGBTQ group on Facebook and regularly posted things that were usually well received. I made the mistake of posting this tweet by Neil deGrasse Tyson letting folks know that female reindeer had horns at that time of the year, not males. Thus, at least Rudolph was misgendered with a male name. Before I knew it, I was embroiled in accusations of being anti-trans because of how Tyson phrased it.
By posting it, I apparently approved.
Instead of standing up for myself, my trauma-laced sensitivity got the best of me. I didn’t defend myself. Instead, I quietly stepped back and dropped out of the group. It was several weeks before I posted anything on Facebook again — I was sure that anything else I posted would be met with the same reaction. After all, these were comments from my “own people” — posting something to the general population just felt too dangerous.
Don’t get me wrong — it hasn’t all been negative. There’s a lot that I’m thankful for when it comes to being an HSP. That, along with being gay and suffering discrimination along the way has made me a better person. I’m more easily able to place myself in the underdog’s position in order to understand them. Still, the last few years have taken a toll and much of the time now, my limits are easily reached when it comes to news and conflict.
Stepping into My Power as a Highly Sensitive Gay Man
I know there are some out there that might think that this post is just to further some gay agenda but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. I would love to quietly live my life with my spouse of 26 years and my dog. I’m not allowed to do that, however. Even though for a time we made many strides forward regarding LGBTQ issues in this country, the past few years has seen a concerted effort to erase them.
I’m faced with a choice — either choke once again, step back and let others silence me or step forward and face things squarely. I can say, “This is me with no apologies.” No one can do it for me — it’s something I have to do for myself.
As vocalist Tyler Joseph declares in Choker:
“I see no volunteers
To co-sign on my fears.
I’ll sign on the line
Alone, I’m gonna change my circumstance.
I know I need to move right now.”
This is for all the people out there who think of themselves as Chokers. Know that sometimes, you freeze because your traumatic past is raising its head. It doesn’t have to be this way. As Joseph sings, “Pain is just the middle man” — it may be present, but it doesn’t have to be the final chapter of the story. It may not always be easy, but the rewards of being who we truly are can be immense. Here’s hoping we all can learn what Joseph describes at the end of Choker:
“Like a little splinter buried in your skin,
Someone else can carve it out but when you’ve got the pin,
It hurts a little less and you can even push it further in.
When your body’s screamin’ out, trust your mind’s listenin’
Like a silhouette that you can barely see,
As a shadow cast upon the ground where you’ll eventually
Lay forever, but the day goes on, the sun moves behind you,
You get taller, bolder, stronger, and the rearview only blinds you.“
Here’s the link to the lyric video in case you want to hear the words in their context.
You can read more about Rick’s experiences on his blog Mystical Bear. Rick’s site serves three purposes: “An experiment to help overcome PTSD, depression, and anxiety. A way to rediscover the voice lost years ago. A motivational tool to help write the novel that’s haunted me for years.” He lives in Everett, Washington in the United States with Larry, his spouse of 26 years, and his dog, Nita.
Ritu Kaushal is the author of the book The Empath’s Journey and a silver medal awardee at the Rex Karamveer Chakra awards, co-presented by the United Nations in India.
Sign Up HERE for Ritu’s newsletter The Highly Sensitive Creative.
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