I must be honest. I don’t really believe in demons. Never have. I don’t believe that anything has the ability or power to indwell itself inside of me. And I surely don’t believe that it can just sneak inside of me if I don’t behave like denominations say that I should.
So when I speak of a demon, I speak metaphorically of course. I grew up in a denomination, specifically The Assemblies of God, that teaches and believes in a literal and indwelling demons. I was also taught that from time to time, those real demons must be cast out through fasting and prayer and the laying on of hands. I would say that I was religiously “raped” as a young teen and on into adulthood. Oh the literal trauma that I have endured.
Most of that faulty teaching is what actually brings be to this post. As I write this, in less than three hours, I will celebrate my 46th birthday. Over half my life has passed. It cannot be undone and I cannot go back in time to reclaim not even just one second.
One can imagine that being raised in South Louisiana, in a Catholic home until I was in Jr. High and then converting to evangelical/Protestant/Pentecostal/Assemblies of God until just about the age of 43… That I have some “demons” that have been dwelling in my life.
Of course I never believed that I had issues with the aforementioned demons and therefore never felt like I needed to face them.
I always minimized the trauma that I was living with as a “Cathli-costal” gay man. I was just fine. I could handle it. It wasn’t so bad anyway. Right!?? I mean other people had it worse. After all, some people have witnessed murder, war, natural death and other horrible issues. THOSE are the people dealing with real demons. Not me…
Well, I wish that was true, but it was a lie. A lie that I had convinced myself to believe for over 40 years. Being a closeted Christian gay man, I had literally watched the horrific murder of ME! I was beaten, abused, taken advantage of and left for dead. Gruesomely Murdered at the hands of society and the “Christian” church because of who I am in my most inner being.
Oh the heartbreaking trauma that l lived. You can’t unring a bell. You cannot un-hear a sound and you cannot Un-see or in-live horrific trauma. It lives somewhere within the brain for life, forever.
I learned to minimize my trauma. I learned to call it by other names. But truth be told… It was literally killing me from the inside out.
For years I have neglected and abused myself. My psyche mostly. I put everyone else before me. Thinking somehow that if I gave of myself to others, that would somehow erase the trauma. I could go on and on about the specifics, but truthfully, you just wouldn’t understand and it would make you sick to your stomach.
So as I enter the 46th year of my life, I am taking time for me. Selfishly and intentionally without shame and without apology.
I began seeing a therapist. And while I think that I used more than my allotted share of tissues, I’m understanding that my demons are in fact real. They are dangerous and hurtful. To me and to others.
I don’t want to hurt any longer. Myself or others. I don’t need the shame, guilt and embarrassment of being gay any longer. I simply don’t have need of it. So I have made a conscious choice to look those f#*%€ing demons right in the face and open up a can of whoop-ass on them. I’m going emerge a healthy, whole and born-again man who is gay in a heterosexual world.
I sincerely don’t think that my therapist realizes what he’s gotten himself to. Bwahahahahah.
See y’all on the other side of ME.