When I started telling my story about ZZ I wasn’t sure where it would lead. I mean, I knew the story and the outcome; I was just not sure whether the story in public would end in a moral quagmire or some kind of reasonable moral outcome. This is not going to be one of those “stand up and cheer” at the outcome kind of stories, but hopefully I can reach out and let someone/anyone know that it IS possible to overcome. That no matter what is going on – and believe me I had a LOT going on – it is possible to turn poison into medicine.

As I continued to give up all that I was in a vain fantasy about what ZZ could/would be, I placed my very self in danger. I had begun to chip away at my core values. I firmly believe that these values are so deep and so much a part of our very make-up that they are what can pull us out of situations that otherwise might wipe us away.

As I kept trying to be everything ZZ wanted – what he wanted seemed to change. I was acting unaware of those changes, but continued to see him not as he was – but as I wanted him to be, as I wanted to see him.

And why not? He had what he wanted. I was there and doing as much as possible to make everything work. To make it as comfortable and peaceful as possible. Inside, my war was raging without any sign of an armistice, but he could go forth confident that all was well. That all was operating under his control.

And there was another key – control. By giving up of myself, my inner being, dreams and hopes (of the real kind) I was also giving up control. And, as usually happens, it all came crashing down…not once, but twice. The first was more of a farce. The second was the most real, frightening and horrifying moment I have had to face. Period. Because I had entered what I call the “dark night of the soul” I felt that I had to take measures that I did not have the privilege to take. I was convinced that I had reached a stage where there was nothing left but to leave it all. I made my plan very carefully … oh yes, and very theatrically. Let me just say it involved not only the how – but the where and what it would look like. I guess being gay there had to be candles involved, and they were…set decoration, you know.

I had nothing left (or so I thought) and it seemed no where to turn. I had begun to become somewhat isolated and cut off from people. I didn’t go out much, and didn’t mingle that much when I did go out. I had lost my love of music, reading, people and theater in all forms. And why? For the reason that I had allowed:

1) Who/what I was to him was based on a lie of his choosing and my own accommodation of that lie,
2) I was trying to be what I was not and
3) I was giving up myself piece by piece – belief by belief. I also
4) was hiding my own lies about feelings, beliefs, dreams and hopes.
— from Saturday’s Early Morning Thoughts ~

If you have never been there – I mean seriously been there – be thankful. If you have been there in that dark night of the soul, then you know what I am sharing.

I want to be very careful that I do not leave the impression that I am laying everything at ZZ’s feet. That is not the point of this series of postings. I can and will discuss at some point the what’s and the how’s…but the important thing that seems to press upon me is to make sure that it is very clear — I was the one responsible for my choices. From the beginning of the relationship (non-physical as it was) I set the pattern in motion, and refused to allow it to stop.

And when it had to stop, I was at literally the psychological bottom. The moment was set, and the candles were lit. I was where I wanted to be, and where I was sure I would not be interrupted, or for that matter found for … well, long enough.

I’ve lost animals, friends and relatives through death – but this was losing me … even though I didn’t think there was anything left, I was to discover that there was.