A gay indie boy living in suburban South West London recounts his trials and tribulations dealing with sex, sexuality, growing up and getting older

Monday, August 11, 2014

The fog clears...

So after months of therapy and mulling it over, I decided to go to my GP and ask for some anti-anxiety meds. Now I have always been anti-medication as a course of treatment for mental illness, but I honestly thought I would try anything to get to the bottom of the quandary with Vik, with my personal issues and trying to figure out how life moves on going forward.

My GP put me on 10mg of Citalopram – the lowest dose – which I have been taking for 5 days now. Day 1 I experienced something close to mania and a euphoric high. Day 2 I had a panic attack, sickness, nausea and hot flashes. On Day 3, I completely lost my appetite and ate one sandwich. Day 4 I experienced so much anxiety I thought I was making myself more ill…

The thing that kept me going were these 'pockets' of clarity. Like looking in the mirror and finally seeing myself for the first time. I saw this very smart, handsome, strong and gentle man in front of me, and I had no doubts or hesitations about it. In my everyday interactions, I could feel that my previous confidence – confidence that was built to mask my insecurities – was fading and being replaced by a confidence that actually started to come from this place within.

On the evening of day 3, I took a walk and thought to myself, "Where has Allan been all this time?" I've spent my whole life looking after or feeling responsible for other people's emotions, wanting to impress other people or make them proud of me. What did Allan want? How did he get so lost among the world? How did he get so lost in the sea of voices in his own head that he couldn't hear his own clear voice? The voice that, in the past, said the right things, but didn't *feel* those things. I have been living my life 'the wrong way round', I thought to myself – as if I was looking for these feelings to suck in from the outside, instead of projecting myself from the inside. I have got by in my life thinking things were 'luck' or 'chance', allowing myself to be thrown from one rock to the next in the rapids of life and absolving myself of any responsibility of making a decision.

I had to start living life for myself, I thought.

On the evening of day 4, I had a major epiphany about Vik. All my commitment phobia wasn't actually to do with commitment, or even to do with Vik himself. He wasn't the wrong guy… I had just spent so much time single, I had painted myself as this 'love martyr' – as if I had forgone love to wait for the 'perfect guy' and have 'the perfect relationship' and, that the next time I fell in love it would be forever. I became overly critical of other people's relationships: belittling them, criticising them for settling for less or making comments about how it would end eventually.

The fact is there is no such thing as the perfect guy or the perfect relationship, but when Vik and I had a connection I just projected all of those ideals onto him then I put myself under a massive amount of pressure to make it the greatest love story ever told. Then, when I realised there was no substance underneath it, I panicked and ran. Vik then started to fall under my 'push and pull' pattern of previous relationships where I had failed to commit, increasing my anxiety. Then I constantly questioned my feelings – did I love him? Was he the wrong guy? Could I do better? PANIC PANIC PANIC.

Did I love him? Well, I needed time to *know*. Yes, I had feelings but I needed to nurture those and I didn't allow myself any time. I needed to know NOW. But instead of giving myself the time, I just used every opportunity as a way to collect evidence against him about why it wouldn't work out.

Could I do better? Hell, there are six billion people on this planet. Maybe I could do better. Fuck whether or not I could do better — Vik could probably do better. There will always be someone more attractive or smarter or likes more of the same music. But that's not what relationships are about. It's about saying, "We have this connection, we're going to give it a go and make an active choice to see if we can make it work together."

Relationships *do* take work, but by fooling myself into thinking I'd find the perfect guy who'd sweep me off my feet, I was again absolving myself of any responsibility of choosing to be with someone and committing to them. Even in the past, my previous relationships failed because it came to a point where I was bored, or there was a problem and instead of sitting down and talking it out, I just said, "Fuck this – I'm off." That way I could avoid the pain of the perceived inevitability of the relationship ending.

In the interim, I chose people – either consciously or subconsciously – who I knew were unsuitable for me because then I knew I wasn't fully invested in the relationship, and I always had an excuse or a foot out the door. I allayed my guilt by saying I was 'being honest and up front', but really I knew even before we engaged in physical intimacy that I was going to say goodbye eventually.

Since taking the meds, my desire or desperation to find a guy – any guy – has disappeared. I've also been out by myself twice to the cinema and to a cabaret… I feel like I can seize the moment with more confidence. My desire to drink has disappeared. Part of me feels like this was what was always missing – that drinking, drugs and all this other stuff was an empty quest to get this clarity of mind. I feel more rational and in control than I've ever been, like I'm really seeing everything very clearly.

All I have to ask myself show long do I take these meds for before I consider it all 'fixed'?

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Saying goodbye

Dear Vik,

Today we were supposed to meet and catch up, but I didn't hear from you so I only have to assume that the idea of meeting me is either a) a chore or b) too much to bear. Since we split up, I had this misguided hope that somehow I would see you again and we would fall in love anew, but now I see that's probably a far-fetched fantasy and whatever feelings you have for me are probably not matched in strength or frequency as the feelings I have had for you since we split on 30 December 2013. I can see that, for you, you were left a bit damaged, had a bit of time to yourself and then just got on with it – got over it. For me, I really had to fundamentally question whether I was able to have a relationship with *anyone*, let alone having a relationship with you. After six months of soul searching, I reluctantly have to let you go. Or, more pertinently, let the idea of you go.

You see, the more I hold onto you, the more I prevent both of us from finding someone. For me, everyone I have met with or had a sexual encounter with has brought with them feelings of guilt: that they couldn't compare to you, or how would I feel if I was with this person and I saw you. Did they match up to you? And, if I continue to pursue you, I am also holding you back from finding the love that you deserve – that all-consuming love of synthesis. To hold onto you is to be selfish, like the dog in Aesop's fable who lay in the hay because he could not eat it. If he could not have it, then none of the other animals would.

I also have to believe that I am capable of finding love, of being in love. And – while that love may not come to me today, tomorrow or in three, six, nine month's time – it is there in the universe. I deserve to be loved too and hungered for in a way I am desired. I am not flawed. Or, I may be flawed but there is someone out there who will love those flaws for what they are and acknowledge how perfectly imperfect I am.

I really wish that, somehow, it could have worked. But it didn't. I need to stop making myself feel so guilty about that. You really are one of the greatest guys I've ever known. If the waters hadn't turned sour – if we could have somehow got to the source of how it all became so poisoned sooner – I know it would have blossomed.

But I guess we can't answer those questions anymore... Just close the chapter and then continue into the flow of the universe.

So to that end I have to say... Goodbye, Vik. If I could pack up my feelings for you and send them in a package for the journey onwards, I would. I hope one day I will see you again, and we can tell each other some stories about what happened since... Then maybe laugh and laugh.

In absence of a guarantee of such a day, I wish you all the best and let us both go into the future with love.

Best wishes,


Thursday, May 22, 2014

Therapy 3

So today I was that person. The person that cries in therapy. OH JESUS! I felt so bad about it.

This week, I decided to be honest about the conflict between my sexual and emotional needs, and how I think they are divided. Instead of shunning it, my therapist actually seemed to 'light up' – was more talkative than in any of the other sessions. I don't know if this is because he is getting to know me more or the topic of conversation.

On fetish:

"It seems like there is a lot of shame involved with sex for you and, at the same time, it also seems like you're only just beginning to develop your own sexual identity. You're punishing yourself for not having it figured out at 30 years old – like you should already know what you do and don't like, and what you're looking to pursue. You've experienced it, now you want to know whether you should close the door and what it means – what you give up – if the door is closed."

On my own high expectations:

"Allan always sets the bar at 110, 115 because Allan sees himself as a person who always gets what he wants. Unless you think you can be the very best at something, you'll often quit before you've given it a go. So even if you got the perfect score of 100, you'd still punish yourself for failing to go that little bit further. Instead of rewarding yourself or enjoying the result of your success, you write it off as a failure, abandon it and then you start another project where the bar is again set at 115. This also goes for your dating practices: you often meet people who meet 80-90% of your requirements, but because they don't score 115, you discard them and pursue someone who will fulfill your very high standards – which inevitably is self-sabotage."

On punishment:

"You often think the universe or the world is punishing you – that there is some task or trial that you have to complete to get what you want. The truth is the only thing punishing yourself is you, often when you fail to meet expectations that you have set yourself up to fail at in the first place."

On Vik... Round 2:

Him: "You used a word that stuck in my throat... Nice."

Me: "Did I? Well, I guess I knew that. I knew that if we stayed together we would have had that middle class life... The mortgage, the kids. Everything. If my head could have chosen a husband, I would have chosen Vik."

Him: "But part of you knew that Vik couldn't fill the hole inside you."

Me: (long pause) "No. He couldn't."

On my patterns of behaviour:

"So the pattern begins when you set a goal for yourself, you aim for it and then if you don't get it or the answers you require immediately, you are disappointed. You want it now. And even if you do have it, you question how much time you can feasibly spend on it or whether it is good enough. Is there something better? You get frustrated with these questions and, instead of giving it time, you leave it. Like with Dan: you fell in love and he was a good match. But not good enough - you thought you could do better. You wondered about the future – how much time can I give to Dan? You decide that you haven't got the time to stick around and find out about these uncertainties. It's much easier to be alone and resolve the question by making a decision for both of you.

And you have to ask, how much time do you ever give people before you've decided they are not worth your time? How much time are you giving me? How much time are you giving yourself?"

On the real Allan:

When the session was closing, we had this exchange... Which was 'the moment'. I guess some might say it was a 'breakthrough', but it felt pretty shitty.

Me: "I'm just so fed up – exhausted... Of this energy, this drive, this constant need to do something. Achieve something."

Him: "But it's become a part of you."

Me: "I know. I just wish I could get rid of it. I just want to draw a line under the whole thing. Get rid of this emptiness inside."

Him: "Can you fill the emptiness?"

Me: "I don't know. I really don't know if I can. And that worries me. Am I always going to be unfulfilled? People think certain things of you and I'm just... So exhausted. I'm so tired."

Him: "Tired of not being the real Allan."

At this point, I am hit pretty hard by that for some reason. I start to waiver a little bit and then I begin to cry.

Me: "Nobody knows. Nobody... But where do you begin? How can you begin?"

Him: "Where do you want to begin?"

Me: (I am in full floods now) "Since I was born... It seemed like my life was doomed. There was no love when I was growing up... Just shouting, screaming, arguing... A lot of anger. My mother left my father when she was 3 months pregnant with me and I lived with my grandparents for 2 years. But we could never behave well enough. We were smacked and punished for doing things normal kids do. Then when my mother moved in with my dad, I never felt like he loved me... Neither of my dads loved me. He used to hit me. And my stepbrother and stepsister used to take drugs. Do you know what it's like to come home as a young boy and see your brother passed out on drugs on the bed? And I was forced to endure this... Forced to live through this for 18 years. And hardly anyone in my London life knows this."

Him: "It sounds very painful, Allan"

After this, I had to compose myself - the session was over. I think I gave my therapist a shock. Up until that point, I bet he was thinking I was just a 'confused middle class white man with white people problems'. So where do we go next? Is it really as ingrained in me as all of this? How does one work it out?

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Therapy session 2

My therapist never talks to me until we're in 'the room' and we both sit down. He asks me if there is anything I want to discuss from the last session and I say, "yes... This idea of the hunger. Now it has a name I can't help but see how it has manifested itself in my life but it can't be filled."

We sit in silence for a while and I feel I am testing him. I ask him about the silences and I laugh. He asks if it makes me uncomfortable and what I want from him. "To feel better" I reply.

As before I'm just going to highlight the main relevant points:

On coming out: 

 "It seems like it was a story of secrets and lies. Your family never wanted to actively acknowledge your sexuality, which has had a lasting impact on how you feel about yourself and how you then present yourself. You always keep a little bit back. You know I hear these stories all the time and it never fails to hurt me."

On my teenage years:"We were all boys trying to make the break once, Allan. So you ran away to London so you could be you – it was a good choice"

On approval:"You've always enjoyed academia because it brought the rewards you wanted: to be seen as a 'good boy' or to be graded on your performance and this continues to motivate you. But life can be frustrating because you don't always get grades or validation, and so it has started to manifest itself in other ways.You have high expectations of yourself and others – and often punish yourself and them when you fail to meet them."

On office environments:"You put on a show and boss everyone around – show them that you're competitive and ambitious. Mean while, the queer geeky 14 year old Allan is inside panicking that he is playing with the big heterosexual boys who bullied him all those years ago. You feel like you're back at school and you can't contend with the popular kids in the class, and sometimes you worry they'll find out if you let your façade slip."

On me and my internal energy:Him: "So you direct everything outwards. Who is giving Allan the internal energy he needs?"

Me: (laughing) "There's no point giving any internal energy, is there? How are people ever going to know I'm intelligent if I don't publish a book? How will they know I'm talented if I never release a CD? How will they know I'm a great artist unless I perform live in front of thousands of people?"

Him: "And so approval... Looking to these external strokes is where you get your energy from?"

Me: "Yes. Approval is really very important to me."

He then paused pregnantly for effect. I knew why... He wanted me to think about that, but this is something I know and would readily admit to. Following on from this...

On isolation and ambition:

Me: "And so now I've come really far and realise I don't have as many friends as I would like, or I don't have a partner who loves me... And I feel very alone sometimes."

Him: "And so... Let me guess... When you're feeling lonely, you take on another project."

Me: "Yes."

Him: "Because you think that by being busy you'll get the external validation you need to remove the loneliness."

Back to on approval:Him: "And so you're busy and you fill your life with things to try and feed this hunger. But what happens when you've reached that point? What does success look like?

Me: "I don't know. I guess however much success I had it could never be enough. The love of my friends should be enough but it isn't."

Him: "Should it?"

Me: "Yeah... And maybe that's why things always go wrong with my partners. Because one person's love... It just isn't enough. It never can be."

He actually ENDED THE SESSION there. And I thought... Wow, that's a real stinger to go out on. I suppose he wanted me to think about that statement the most. And that's where I'm left... A bit of a punch in the stomach

Thursday, May 08, 2014


So I decided to see a therapist. God, I feel like I'm at the pinnacle of white middle-class problems, but after still thinking about issues that have been bothering me since December, I thought it was worth a go. I think my therapist was more nervous than me to be honest... I talked a lot *A LOT*... But I wanted to get down some of the things he said to me before I forget them.  

On Vik: "So it seems that as soon as you found the perfect guy, you did everything in your power to push him away."

Wow. That one hit me like a tonne of bricks. I almost burst into tears.  

On me: "I get this nervous energy, this anxiety... But then there is this hunger. A hunger inside you that will never be satisfied. And how are you feeding that hunger?"

This idea of hunger... I knew exactly what he meant. A drive inside me that is always searching for more and more and more. Unquenchable desire for everything.

And spanning from that he said: "Nothing will ever be good enough [for you]."

Strangely, that statement actually makes me feel more relaxed. Is that crazy? I thought, 'He's right.. Nothing will ever be good enough. That's life. There *is* a limit to how much you can experience. A lot of stuff in my artwork even made sense.. Things about over-indulgence and excess... All driven by how far can you 'push it' before pleasure turns to pain?

And more: "Everything you do has to be extreme. Either you're going the whole way or not at all, and it's starting to cause problems."

Hm. Yeah... I think I knew that. Wasn't quite aware of how binary my thinking was.  

On my stage in life: "Most people ask themselves, 'Where will I be in my life when I'm 30?' You never asked yourself that question because you always envisaged that you'd be dead, and so what happens now you're alive? Can you continue having these same extreme experiences indefinitely? Can you continue to be the same Allan?"

He even said about settling down and I said, "Even you saying that makes me instantly reject it. I won't have any more adventures." And he laughed and said, "That's good – no more adventures." Then he wrote it down in his book.  

On love: "You want a fairy tale... That people write about in books. The truth is love doesn't always happen like that."

Well... Not sure how I feel about that, but considering some things he said earlier in the session, perhaps my thinking on these experiences is skewed. Again, he was all about the intensity.

On my PhD "Photographs performing? That's interesting. Do you think everything performs?"

Um... Well, there is an academic argument for that. But I know what he was getting at. He was insinuating that I was performing certain behaviours - going through the motions. I then had to confess to him that certain things I thought I had become purely because I had 'imagined' them for myself and then 'stepped into' that role.

Immediately afterwards, I wasn't sure about it, but then as I thought on these things I said I realised he had got to some core truths about me. Some of these I think I'll talk about next time... This idea of hunger I keep referring back to. It's like I'm pouring stuff on it but nothing will ever satiate it. What is it? Where is it coming from?

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Do you even know what you want?

I have just come back from a holiday to Marseille. I gave myself 5 days to take a break, think things through and - once I returned - I would get in touch with Vik to see if he wanted to go for a drink.

Marseille is an interesting city. after 7pm it appears to be dead, even though it's the second largest city in the whole of France. However, it has a much darker, seedier edge that you would be oblivious to unless you get caught in its wave. And that can all too easily happen. On two nights I was up till 9am and 4.30am after randomly being invited to a party, and both times I nearly called it quits and went home at 11.30pm because the bars were empty. Things seem to change within the space of 20 minutes if you're in the right place at the right time.

On Friday morning, Vik messaged me. He said nothing more than 'Hey Allan' and I responded, said I was in Marseille, asked how he was. He then told me Kate Bush is doing a residency at the Hammersmith Apollo... We exchanged messages until I said I had to go as I was on my way out. However, I decided to stick to my rule - when I get back, I'll message him.

I, of course, thought about him all the time – whether it would work out again, should we try just being friends first etc etc etc

So this morning I messaged him on What's App and asked him what day he was planning to go to the Kate Bush gig. I noticed he hadn't been online since midnight the previous night. Then my mind started going... He's slept with someone else. He stayed at someone else's place and his battery is dead - that's why he hasn't been online. And now he's not responding to me because he has to break the news to me that he's dating someone.

So now I'm panicking. I'm panicking and I start crying. And I'm crying and I shout out loud to myself, "Allan what the fuck do you want? If you want him go get him. If not, then leave him be."

I am usually very decisive and know my own feelings, but this has been the biggest mind fuck in my dating history.

They say hesitation is the biggest obstacle in love.

I don't even know what happens next.

Monday, March 17, 2014

Fear of death

It's 3.20am. I've just bolted upright in my own bed with that paralysing fear of death that grips us sometimes. You know the one - realising that you're going to die and that all of this means nothing, because one day your consciousness won't even exist and all your thoughts and hopes and dreams will never be known by anyone else ever. 

I just sat up and said, "Oh God Oh God Oh God OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!"

And all of this shit means nothing. Who will care in 100 year's time whether I did or did not get my PhD? Whether I did or did not fall in love? Whether I did it or did not fulfil my artistic ambitions?

Sometimes we get stuck on the treadmill, unaware of our own relative unimportance. The ego consumes us and we forget we're just one of billions trapped in the cycle of life.

Fear of death is something that I first really got to grips with when I was 15. At least then I had this hope, and a vast amount of time ahead of me. At 30, the course feels more set.

I hope one day I can face my death with peace and resolve. My mother says that a fear of death is good - it means there's still something left to live for. I hope she's right...

Ex-ting: texting with Vik

I was drunk, he was drunk... And we had this exchange on Saturday night