…and guys. This is only going to be a small fraction of my story. A small glimpse into my life and what I've had to hide and what I've had to deal with. First and foremost let’s talk about my visit to the psych ward and the events that brought about that most pivotal moment in my life. Where to begin? The beginning is always a good place to start, but we won’t start there. I suffer from manic depression also known as bi-polar disorder. Bipolar disorder is a condition in which people go back and forth between periods of a very good or irritable mood and depression. The "mood swings" between mania and depression can be very quick.
I’ve been dealing with this alone since high school. Although, not fully diagnosed with it until I was in college. While in high school I sought out acting to help me focus my feelings of depression toward something else; all the while being silent to everyone around me about my deep depressive state. In the past 15 years, I have tried to commit suicide or planned to a total of six times.
The first time was a very public display of a sickness that I’ve had since birth. I’m talking about asthma. When I was a freshman in high school, I deliberately left my inhaler at home. During the last period of the day I intentionally induced my asthma knowing I had no inhaler with me. It was winter of 1996 and I knew that I couldn’t do anything physically demanding outside in the winter, without my asthma kicking in. I ran from top floor of what was called the Annex building to the main building of the school and up three or four flights of stairs to my classroom and waited.
I felt dizzy and began to wheeze as I had planned. It wasn’t until I started feeling extremely bad when I told the teacher that I wasn’t feeling good. She then gave me a wet paper towel to put over my forehead. Haha… brilliant really. Soon after I passed out, only to remember waking up to about 8 people around me one being my mother. She had my inhaler. There were also paramedics on the scene as well.
But as I was being hauled away by the ambulance I looked up and every class in school was looking out of their window. Almost all of them anyway, my classroom was not. Apparently one of my friends was adamant about not having anyone in the class look out the window. This was partly because she was scared and didn’t want to think the worse. Admittedly, probably not the best place to have a first attempt.
I can’t explain the pain I felt at the time of my lowest points. I planned two more times after that. Once involved my asthma again and the other involved pills that I took and then threw up. Graphic, I know. Time number four was in college. Oh my college years were some of the toughest emotionally to get through. Not only did I have to put myself through college, I also had felt I had to be the same old “happy” Keyton that everyone in my family and all of my friends knew me for being, when in fact; I was far from happy. The only time in my life when I was truly happy was in 2001 and that was a brief time at that. However, I will always remember that time.
In any event, the fourth time I didn’t actually attempt suicide but it was planned to happen. It was 2005 and I had just had a car accident and totaled my car and it was coming upon graduation for me from college. There were just a lot of things going on in my life at that point that I could barely handle all of them. I won’t bore you with the details of them all here now. Although, I can’t remember the exact night I do remember what I did. I wrote three letters. One of which I wrote to my best friend Seth, one to Brock (another friend) and one to my family. The latter was cold and blameful. I felt as though I had been abandoned by family long before that night.
They were letters of poignant sacrifice. I can’t tell you how difficult it was to write them, but I did. They were good-bye letters and letters of what I was thinking at that point and time. I was in a dark place, so dark that I saw no light. I had some of my anti-depression medicine in front of me as well as a knife. Take the pills, slit my wrist, done. As much as I wanted to do those things something was pulling on my heart saying otherwise. So I picked up the phone and called my good friend Zach Kissinger. I told him of my plan and he was at my apartment in less than five minutes.
He saved my life that night.
The fifth and sixth time happened just in the past year. Because I’m entering my fifth page here in word I will not tell you the long and painful experience of my fifth attempt. Simply note that my good friend David Shoemaker came and helped me get through the night. I had an emotional breakthrough that night. It was December 2010 and I had decided to end my existence even after that night David came to my rescue.
This time I was even more determined.
I will try to keep this as brief as possible because I know you all are interested in the kissing guys part of this story. It had been decided, by me, that I would end my life on New Year’s Day. No one would be around. I could do it quietly and comfortably in the comfort of my own space. Finally, I wouldn’t be in pain anymore. There were so many circumstances that lead me to this decision. None of which I will share here. Besides that’s what my psychiatrist is for. I was determined, however; to go out with a bang! I had a New Year’s Eve Black Party. This meant that everyone that came to the party had to wear black of some sort. It was a huge success. I had the time of my life and was just happy that I could host another party where people were laughing, dancing and just having a good old time.
And we did.
Nevertheless, all good things must come to an end. As I said goodbye to my last guest, I all of a sudden felt this overwhelming feeling of sadness and despair. Reality hit me like a freight train. I had no one in my life to share anything with. I didn’t have a companion to kiss on New Year’s Eve. I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I didn’t have anyone to love and be loved by. “Yeah,” I thought to myself “it’s time to go.” I finished cleaning the house and I went to bed. Getting one last sleep in before the big sleep came. The next morning I didn’t bother about writing any letters, sending any e-mails, or updating my Facebook wall. I did, however, change my profile picture. It was what I wanted people to remember me as. I wanted to be remembered as a good looking guy smiling and happy with the world…
My friend Andrew Quinn was the only person that I told that I was going to kill myself that day because I knew he couldn’t do anything about it. He was in New Orleans and didn’t have anyone’s phone number that lived here in Chicago. My plan was finally going to work. Of course he tried to talk me out of it but I was adamant about going through with it this time. I wanted to see my friend Andrew Hill that day and say “goodbye” but when I texted him he said that he was busy and couldn’t meet up. I got even more depressed than I was originally. Just because I wanted to see someone I knew on my last day here. That was a lonely day.
Then, all of a sudden, Andrew calls and asks if I still wanted to hang out. By this time I wasn’t up for hanging out with anyone. I was in such a state of depression that I could barely do anything but think about leaving this world. Andrew was insistent on meeting up with me. So he and his girlfriend Shannon came to the house to get me and we went to the mall in Lombard. It was a cold day. A little bit snowy as well.
I was quite quiet during that car ride. I had wondered to myself why Andrew wanted to hangout all of a sudden when he said he was busy not one hour before, but I soon put that to the back of my mind and went on with the trip to the mall. After the mall I of course wanted to go back home and prepare for the night but Andrew and Shannon wanted me to have dinner with them and watch a movie. They were unrelenting about it all.
I was curious as to their motives but didn’t fight too much because like I said, my depression had me in a state where my energy level was so low that I couldn’t even bare to argue with them. I don’t remember what movie they picked to watch but that’s beside the point. As we where watching the movie I received a text from my friend Steve Vander Naalt asking me how was I doing. I told him the truth. We exchanged texts throughout the night and I noticed that Andrew started receiving text messages as well.
My suspicion grew.
When the movie was over, I was ready to go home. I said goodbye to Shannon as she had this look of worry on her face. I gave her the best smile that I could muster at the time and exited her house. Andrew took me home and wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried to say goodbye to him but he asked me, “What are you going to do tonight?” I lied, “Well, feed the dog and walk her. Probably go to bed. I’m pretty tired.” He was pushy and said that he wanted to watch another movie. By this time it was well past 10:00pm and if you know Andrew, he’s always in bed by now so I knew that he knew something. But how did he know?
I’m going to skip the emotional next hour and fast forward to when other people started showing up at my house. First there was David, then Malachi Lutes showed up and they all were talking about me like I wasn’t even there! I became angry. They had ruined my plan. Later I found out that Andrew Quinn got a hold of Bryan Young via Facebook. You got to love social networking. I soon ran upstairs and Andrew Hill soon followed after me. He would let me be alone.
If I knew where Bryan kept his guns I would have ran and got one and ended it right then and there instead of what I had planned. Not even three minutes went by when there was someone else at the door. I heard voices from my room that I didn’t recognize. Footsteps approached the stairwell. Somebody was coming up the stairs. I sat on my bed in a panic and fearful of whom it might be. I heard a voice call out my name as I looked a police officer had entered my room.
The police officer began to talk to me as his partner looked on, and eventually said that I had to come with them because my friends were worried about me. He also said that I didn’t have a choice basically. As I got up and went out of my room I encountered four more police officers! I guess this was the most excitement that the Winfield Police Department had seen all night. I got into the police car with Andrew. (Very uncomfortable back seat I might add.) We were taken to the hospital. I had to admit myself as the police officer looked on. It was a very long night, but my friends stayed with me. They had the strength to fight for my life even when I didn’t.
On January 2, 2011 I was admitted into the psych ward.
While there I found people like me. They were talking about their problems and what eventually brought them to that place of last resort. Me, all I could think about was what I had to do in order to get out of there. The first few days I was relatively quiet during our meeting times. I had nothing to say to them. On the other hand, as time went by I found that we were all the same. We were a bunch of broken souls coming together to encourage one another and give each other advise as to how we could beat whatever ailed us. I was only there for a week but it felt like I was there longer. In all truthfulness, I should have stayed in there longer than I was. I learned fairly quickly what it was that I had to do to get out and that’s what I did.
If you want to know more about my time in the psych ward just ask. This is already too long. Let us skip to my attraction to guys. I grew up in a Christian home surrounded by Christian values and I lived my life accordingly for 29 years. Always doing the “right” thing all of my life. I’ve always had an attraction to guys and girls but only pursued the latter.
A big part of my depression came in because of the fact that I had this “unnatural” attraction to guys. I beat my brain with bible scriptures and the like telling me that it was wrong to have such feelings. However, we all have our secrets and this one is mine. I never acted on the fact that I liked guys too and this caused much distress in my life. I was never happy with being what everyone else wanted me to be.
So now I’ve decided that it’s time to stop being what everyone else wants me to be and start “Being Me”.
I’ve weighed all the options of both sides of the argument for a very long time now. I see no reason why people of the same sex can’t be with each other if they want to. Sins are all the same in God’s eyes and if there is a particular sin in your life God will forgive you that sin if you ask for it and mean it. If you commit adultery over your entire life of marriage it is the same sin as stealing from someone. We can all be forgiven. I have gone on dates with a few girls in the past two years and have not found what I’m looking for in a woman.
I have thusly decided to date guys. I know some of you are shocked, others not so much. I am finally being me! Life is too damn short to live unhappily and I’m making the best time of what I have left on this earth and doing me. Doing what’s best for me and if you can handle that, I welcome you to stay in my life and if you can’t then it was nice knowing you. I love everyone and have tried to be as good of a person as I possible can. Life has kicked me in the ass way too many times and now I’m doing something that makes me happy.
I had my first date ever with a guy a few days ago and it was great! I’m going to be careful with my heart and time and see what happens. You can call me bisexual, gay, or whatever, I’m finally doing me and it feels good. Most of you will first see this letter on October 11, 2011. This is national “Coming Out” day, however, I despise the term “Coming Out” so for me this is National “Being Me” day. I still love my God, and I love the church but I believe God doesn’t want his children to be unhappy while on Earth. He may not condone most of our actions but I believe He is just and will judge each of us accordingly to the sins we have accumulated over our lifetime.
I still want a family and kids. If I get that with a man or a woman I’ll be satisfied. I just want to be happy again. To my family, I know this is not something that you even would consider as normal or right in the eyes of God, but I could tell you stories about your own kids that would turn your hair on end but of course, I won’t. All I want to say is that I love you and I hope you can accept the fact that I’ve been pretending to be who you wanted me to be for the last 30 years and I’m tired and done pretending. So print this letter, pass it on and share with whomever you feel like you should. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask me.
Call me or just simply drop me a message on Facebook. I will try to be as open and as honest as I can be. This is my liberation letter. More of a term paper actually. Haha!! I tried not to make it too long by skipping out on a lot of details but I hope you all took away the gist of what I tried to convey. Some parts of this letter were harder to write than others but I’m glad that I have finally decided to write it. Love you all and I hope you still love me to!
Blessings,
Keyton Kyles
Posts
Book Review: Story Thru the Bible
1 day ago
0 comments:
Post a Comment