Dark Passengers Series

Dark Passenger: Weaving a Cocoon

We all bleed. And it’s all pink on the inside.

That explanation came from an asshole I knew at university. His misogynistic ways stuck with me somehow — surprise, surprise. Still an impressionable young gay man, a small group of elite intellectuals sat in a circle discussing something about authority. Liberal arts education at its best.

My friend, who explored women with the subtlety of a great white shark on a feeding frenzy, spoke of how women — no matter their race, religion, size or texture, should put out at the end of a date.

The females in the class expressed horror, although by that point, most had taken a ride on his cock and experienced his tongue on their clits. We’d discussed this is detail. We both had mutual interests. His interest — curiosity about fucking ass, even men, since he figured it would increase his chances of getting some at the end of the evening. Mine was the mind of a straight man. So we’d dined together and discussed our respective sex lives.

As he spoke of women putting out and the incredulous women screamed in dismay, the room came to a silence that happened naturally. One of those odd moments that just seems to happen.

“I really don’t know why you expect women to put out all the time,” I told him, in front of everyone. “You’ve been to my apartment. I’ve fixed you dinner. You’ve never put out for me.”

There’s this moment sometimes when “silent” isn’t a sufficient enough word. It’s as if the entire world has had the volume turned down and everyone has gone deaf. It only lasts for an instance, but in that moment, there’s an eternity. And if a pin dropped somewhere across the planet, it would sound as if a thousand cymbals crashed to the floor simultaneously.

Then the room erupted and my friend dropped his jaw like he had dick-suckers cramp. Girls from my class piled on me in appreciation for delivering the blow that shut him up.

But the truth of the matter in all that fun and discussion of sex and food, misogyny and dating, I was alone. For all the fun, support and wit, the professor could see what was going on.

That evening, as we each headed off to our dorms and apartments or to whatever drinking destinations, the hairy, disheveled poly sci professor took me aside and imparted some wisdom that here, years later, I don’t recall a fucking word.

And so, on a Saturday evening, more than two decades later, four months to the day after I watched my Mother die, I’m drowning my sorrows in Diet Coke. I’m wishing it was something stronger. It’s been a shitty week and it does no good to explain in detail here.

I started this blog to explore my sex life. I didn’t intend on making friends. I didn’t have any intentions. I just wanted to explore. Then, when my Mom got sick, I crossed into a place I didn’t know how to escape. How do I explain that I didn’t feel like fucking. That my cock could just fall off and I didn’t care. I’d have given up fucking forever to see my Mother get well.

That didn’t happen, of course. And I returned to fucking. But something hasn’t been the same for me. I debated whether to tell you all. And for a while, I didn’t.

Can you say that pain inspires you? Maybe you could give up your grieving easily. But now I feel utterly alone. Some of you probably couldn’t give a shit. I don’t blame you. I don’t much give one either right now. Not that I’m going to off myself or something stupid like that.

So the shitty week actually isn’t inspired by my Mother, my birthday or anything else. It comes from a crappy boss. I’ve worked for this person for years and to get a single pat on the back is close to impossible. A promotion has been dangled out in front of me but in order to get it, yours truly needs to become submissive.

Being that I’m a Dominate personality, I’m not one to back down. I’m in Georgia and let’s face it, being out, being gay and being visible has its detractions. In a professional environment, the prejudice can be overwhelming. One person at my current company — a person of significant stature and in a position of power — told me because I was gay, he would do whatever he could to assure I was not successful and would fail at every task I attempted. I informed my boss of this. I was told this was a “personality deficiency” that I would need to overcome.

So I am deciding if I can be a cum-collecting pussy. If I can suck it up, literally, in order to get a promotion. Is it within my personality to be submissive and bow to the Master.

What, again, I’ve not told everyone is just how many people in my life rely on my income. I am the majority breadwinner for a lot more people than most would realize. So flipping off my boss and walking away seems like a good idea if you’re on your own for your own principals. But when others rely on you, you can’t do it so flippantly.

So what am I to do. To be honest, I have gone against my nature by writing this. I shut down Thursday night and barely did anything. But I decided tonight to write this. To tell the world. I’ll get some shitty responses (which I probably will reject).

I am considering a significant life change. Not just with my job. Now that Mom and Dad are gone, I have more choices. People may rely on me, but I don’t have to be here in Georgia to assure they get the help they need.

 

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  1. Thank you for posting this entry. Like some of your other responders, my roots are southern, but the 20 years spent working in executive capacity in both Philadelphia (CIGNA) and NYC (for the "notorious AIG" as Bill Maher says) were revealing.

    I never brought my personal life to work, that is to say, I never came out. No pictures in my office. Always out of town when "family" outings came up. Always choosing words carefully, especially in selecting pronouns when I did occasionally describe some outside activity.

    I know that I paid an enormous price in terms of the personal stress of hiding. I was never confronted, never questioned, so I don't know what career opportunities were lost. During those years, I was there for the money. I think people "knew", but as I don't lisp, am not 'limp wristed" and am not into "camping it up"….well let's face it, I was essentially non-threatening on most levels…sort of the corporate version of "don't ask, don't tell".

    Ultimately I left AIG and worked for a privately held company on Long Island–smaller but more money. I went merrily along in my closet. Then it happened.

    In January 2000, my male partner of 10 years dropped dead, in his doctor's office, of a heart attack. At that point I came face to face with the difficulties faced by surviving partners–not the least of which being that "bereavement policy" only extends to defined "immediate" family.

    I went to one of the two owners of the company and explained that I needed time off due to the death of my partner . He agreed, but seemed uncomfortable.

    I went to my office to gather a couple of things that I would need while away from work. Just before I departed, my boss walked into my office and said "I just wanted you to know that I am very, very sorry for your loss".

    This was the closest I ever came to throwing open the closet door in corporate America. He was not a man that wanted to hear details. His heritage was Italian and Dominican and I believe that his exposure to same sex matters was limited. Still, I was touched by the consideration, kindness and understanding that he showed me.

    Be well.

  2. We all play roles. Some are luckier than most in that they have greater latitude in deciding the roles they will and will not play. I've lived in the South my entire life: Alabama, Florida, and Georgia. Unless we ghettoize ourselves, we will run into the small minded bigots no matter where we move. California, long held as one of our more liberal states, can't even legalize gay marriage.

    If I were in your shoes, I would play the role needed to get the promotion, while engaging in a job search to move on elsewhere. This is a crappy economy, so you may or may not have an easy go. The one thing I've always learned is that grass is never greener on the other side. We always trade one set of issues/problems for others.

    Make the best out of your current situation while making a carefully constructed plan to move on.

    All my best!

  3. Mark…

    Can pain inspire? It hasn't worked that way for me.

    When I came out hesitantly in '93, I was terrified, but believed that things could work their way around to something better. The divorce was awful and expensive; relationships with my still-young kids were poisoned by my ex, no contact with them in years. The standard feedback from well-meaning friends was "they will come around eventually," but that day is nowhere in sight.

    Being a relationship-oriented guy, I reveled in discovering all-encompassing love and passion with a guy in '95; we remained good friends after it ended (due to his alcoholism) and I gave his eulogy in 2002 after the drinking finished its job on him.

    Lightning struck again in 2000, meeting a great guy, a year spent stepping toward shared living space and long-term plans, until his suicide.

    Economic/career stuff started going south for me in 2006; in 2008 it seemed smart to accept an offer from family to move back to the midwest. After 30 years of independence, I didn't realize I'd be walking into toxic relationships and crushing small-town life, which combined with not having a car has made for an excruciatingly slow self-recovery process.

    "But now I feel utterly alone."

    That's where I'm at at the moment. As much as I hoped never to move "home" as an adult, I thought I at least might have some shred of dignity and support if worse came to worse. Not so. I'm getting ready to move to large metro area, starting by being homeless if necessary, whatever it takes to move toward autonomy without supposed loved ones scolding me and demeaning my judgment and credibility every step of the way.

    "Some of you probably couldn't give a shit. I don't blame you."

    What I'm learning about myself is that I'm better off accepting that there may be days, or long seasons, in which nobody gives a shit about me except me. Fuck the underlying possibilities — people care but have their own flaws, or emotional abuse is the only "help" they know how to give — my life isn't about what they're doing, it's about what I'm doing to take care of myself.

    It sounds trite to say "Take care of yourself." But, that's what it comes down to, at least for me. Be dominant enough to recognize that the alternative will compromise and eventually cripple your ability to take care of anyone else.

    I'm sure there are plenty more factors which motivate you to advance where you're at, but gawd, it sounds ugly. Too much potential that, after playing the sub card and getting the promotion, the assholes will continue shitting on you. Whether now or later, fuck 'em.

  4. A lot of guys spout a lot of BS and it doesn't mean anything. But if a person of importance in your workplace has already flatly told you that he intends to see you fail at whatever you do there because you are gay, I personally would take that seriously.

    You don't have to do anything right away, and you should give yourself time to grieve over the loss of your mother. I lost mine at age 26 and it was a shattering experience. She had unsuspected cancer that was discovered too late and she only lived a few months after the diagnosis. She had been very healthy so we were all caught up in shock and grief over her loss at only age 59. It took me nearly a year before I was ready to rejoin the living. So you may need awhile.
    But you should consider leaving that poisoned place and that unfriendly state unless you have good evidence your treatment there is improving. You may not decide to leave after all, but you do need to give yourself enough time so that you are not dealing with more than one problem at a time, and you know your thinking is based on reason and not emotional distress.

  5. Mark, I'm so sorry you're in such pain following your recent loss, and that you're having to try to cope with corporate bullshit at the same time. That sucks. I hope you won't leave Atlanta too hastily. Your grief may be clouding your judgment a bit, so I'd hold off on making any huge life changes right away. Then again, you probably instinctively will know when it's time to do just that. Good luck, buddy.

  6. You're framing it wrong. Do what it takes to USE them for money until you can engineer a better situation to get out of Georgia.

  7. You're framing it wrong. USE them for money until you can work a way to get out of Georgia that is well to your advantage. 😉

  8. Do what you need to do short term to pay the bills. Suck it up and bend over… But you can't do that long term – it's not true to yourself. You can endure it for a short period of time, but not indefinitely.

    Start figuring out how to restructure your life so it works better for you. It's really important to take care of your own needs – ultimately your (fundamental) needs are more important than the needs of the people who depend on you since if you don't take care of yourself you won't be in a position to take care of others.

  9. Thankfully, at this point, I can't imagine how it would feel to lose a Mother. Especially when there is a close, healthy relationship involved.

    As I'm typing this I can see my Mother sitting across from me. We share a home. She's aging.

    The only wisdom I can impart is to give yourself the permission to fully explore the depth of your emotions. You'll come out on the other side more prepared to make needed changes. Create a goal. Think toward the future. Know that others care.

    Once you're ready, think West Coast. San Diego…LA…Seattle. All citys I've lived in. I've never had an issue regarding promotion on the basis of my sexuality. Not to say it doesn't happen.

    When you're ready to visit hit Seattle, I'd love to show you around!

  10. I know that I mentioned, previously, that Mother's day is a difficult time for me as well. I lost my mother years before I lost her to death, and yet each year I'm reminded of both of those losses. It's hard, and to express that to others is even harder. No one ever truly, exactly understands what you're going through. That work is so difficult, and trying, when it makes up so much of what we are…

    I respect you for being honest, and for acknowledging what you're going through. I'll keep you in my thoughts.

  11. Pretty much a silent admirer here as well. Thank you for letting us see a clearer picture of the man, not only the "breeder of men".
    Here are my 2cents: If the opportunity is better then by all means leave Atlanta.
    If you're thinking of moving just to get away from this particular problem, don't leave, stand your ground and fight like hell, you will get your due soon enough: visualize it, work hard for it every day, be patient. Compromise when you have to but don't lose your soul. Dramatic change is often that.
    Take care.

  12. Wow what an entry. I grew up in north escambia county Florida and still visit my aging parents a lot even though our relationship is strained because I am gay. Consider moving out of the south and dont use sex as a weapon on others. Be well!!

  13. Based on what you do, Take a trip up north as a vacation and look for another job. But remember that life is for the living and your respect and love for your mother will get you over the hump.
    Don't ever give up..

  14. I've been reading in stealth myself, like some of the others, but tonight I feel compelled to comment. Your post speaks to me on many levels. I am an only child that lost my mother 2/28/2002 to cancer. The 18 months she battled it, I threw myself into being there (to the best of my ability) for her and my father. I cut almost everything away from myself, but the sex always managed to creep back in. When she died, a large part of me died. I have spent the next 8 years drinking and fucking the pain away. I didn't care about me, I just wanted the hurt to go away. I have been lucky in having a partner that understands, accepts, and loves me…but so many times I still feel alone.

    I also can relate to being an openly gay man in the South, working for a company who, respects you, yet privately blackballs you because you like balls and cock. I would love to believe that moving elsewhere would change that, but honestly I don't think it really will. The South is who I am, and where I belong..so I fight..I struggle..and I never let those I beat forget it was a "sissy" that did it.

    What I can tell you is by being this honest and posting it, it will be cathartic. I also can tell you that the longer after passing, it does get easier, but you never forget. What has made me wake up, and turn the corner is the fact that my mother knew me, loved me and believed in me. Those days when i'm so dark, and down to places that most will never experience or understand, It's the fact she loved and believed in me unconditionally that keeps me moving to the next day. I feel quite sure your mother felt the same way about you.

    Thank you for being an open, honest man. All your readers appreciate it!

  15. Speaking as a submissive btm. Please allow me to add 2 cents.i do indeed identify with what You're saying.There is NOTHING wrong with a Dom. feeling vulnerable sometimes. That makes You a HUMAN & is not a weakness at all.It's like this –i spent a couple of decades being beaten to a bloody pulp by my father at the drop a hat & on top of that there was no escape or respite at school either,the fear & abuse was constant & grinding. Don't misread what i'm saying –i'm not nellie or in anyway obviously "Gay" in any way –never was or never will be….but,Dad & the kids knew. i'm 6'5 & 225 & look like an evil biker badass but, God made me a sub. for whatever reason & that's just how it is.I was comfortable with my sexuality at an early age but,not comfortable with my reality as a sub. until i was near 35. Such is the programming of our society.Sadly, in the Gay community –especially in the Dom./sub area there exists the same notions paralleling some of the worst aspects of the straight world. As in the Dom.(male) is supposed to be a cold,unfeeling arrogant fuck machine,devoid of all feelings & unable to feel pain.You,Yourself have read some of the comments by some of the "Doms." on this blog & have seen the utter contempt in which they hold subs.Instead of appreciating subs for what they are –an opposite,complimentary and essential being –they hold them in contempt. Which,of course some "subs" -which are just really btms. with esteem issues will tolerate…..for a while.Anyway– i have more respect for a Dom. like You, who can show real,honest emotions. Your pain –as all human pain is very real & very valid,never feel ashamed to own it & express it. If anyone takes offense then that is their issue –not Yours. My advice would be to stand Your ground in this situation.Not only are others depending on Your support but, Your self worth is at stake. i live in Orlando so,trust me – i know how it is to live & deal with arrogant & ignorant straight Southern men. Stupid exists everywhere & no matter where ya go there ya are. i've dealt with a lot of crap from both straight men , women & Gay men all my life & i'm still standing, bloodied but unbowed.This crisis of faith will pass & You will come through,stronger & better.Stay true to Yourself,Your principals & Your nature always!

  16. I've always been a "lurker" as well. I too grew up in the FL panhandle. Atlanta was the place all the gay boys in the area wanted to be. I moved to Chicago from the panhandle for a job 11 years ago and it was the best thing I ever did. I'm still happy I ended up here and not Georgia. So, I agree, leave Georgia.

  17. I can't imagine what it must be like to lose your mother. I rue the day… I would think that if it's at all possible for you to relocate to a more hospitable environment it would certainly be a win/win option. Whether it be a new company, new city or new state.

    Thanks for sharing. Like Breeder said, I would think it would be somewhat cathartic.

    Take care.

  18. You'll probably be better off for having written about it. Even when you know something to be true in your head, for writers, it often doesnt take reality until it's put on paper, or the screen. Good for you, for taking the brave route.

    I was numb for a year after my mom's death. I didn't realize how dead I was to the world until I emerged from the fog and realized how long it had been.

  19. I've never once written on your blog (one of the silent ones). I find it compelling for a lot of reasons that don't involve the sex stories, some of which are exciting.

    The reason I'm writing now is to tell you one thing. Leave Georgia. Move north, DC is good, possibly Philly (though I don't know it as well). Even Boston if you can stand the cold.

    I grew up in Florida, and not the tropical south part, the "more like Alabama" part.

    The subtle, you just need to be different prejudice their is wearing you down. It was like that for me when I lived in Ohio for nearly a decade. I started shutting down after a bit.

    I think it's harder when you are a person who doesn't back down. You just don't realize how its absorbing you. It's too much a part of everything, the whole culture.

    Go someplace where you won't be surrounded by it.

    That's my advice, if you can swing it and still take care of those that need you. You'll be happier.

    Take care of yourself.