Research Subjects

Blog Post  11/26/2012


I need to start a club.  An “Adult Children of Prolific Gay Men” club.  We’ll be known as the ACOPGM – okay, maybe scratch the word “Prolific.”  ACOGM.  Okay, maybe scratch the word “Men” – too sexist.  ACOG.  Adult Children of Gays.  Hmm…maybe let’s include kids, scratch the word “Adult.”  We’re just “COGs.”


There, that rings true.  And, essentially – we are cogs.  But what are we disrupting?  What did we do wrong to be targeted like wild animals?  Are we disrupting the order of things that have been put in place by Giants of Power?   Big Pharma, Big Retail.  Big Finance.  Big Ag.  Big Oil.  Big Politics.  BIG CORP.


Greed.  Corruption.  Hate.    I hope, I hope, that we are not cogs of these things. 


Some days I feel like a research subject in my own life.  Isolated.  Obfuscated.  Numb.  Or worse yet, without identity.  Every television program I watch, every book I read – there is something to identify with, some kind of new point of view or option or … answer.  Not to mention an endless barrage of questions.  But you know, I think I’m getting closer to understanding who I am. 


Ha, only after a half lifetime of floating around in a bubble. 


I wish I had this awareness in high school, but – yeah, I guess I was busy surviving.


I thought I had made a few friends at the University, but it’s difficult to keep up with them after you leave due to an unspoken, undocumented scandal.  One friend, “Ani”, who used to work with me in the Lab, happened to mention that she was Buddhist.  I was curious, so I attended a meeting with her in January of 2011.  The organization was called Soma Garam, or SGI.  Now, interestingly, I believe I had heard about this organization from one of my best Dream Life friends as well, “Arthur” – but I didn’t make any connection at that time.  I hadn’t talked to him in over a year.  Never saw Ani at a meeting after that one, which I thought was kind of strange, but….  It happened to be a women’s gathering (which, in hindsight, most of them turned out to be); it was so nice to hang out with other women, and listen to their problems.  It was a little uncomfortable, but I joined in on the sharing.  There were tears.  It was good.


At that meeting, I noticed a lady, Micki, who seemed to be hovering as she played cars with a little boy in attendance.  Later, when my hours were cut at work and I couldn’t afford my apartment, I would learn that she just “happened” to have a room for rent.  Which was good, because I couldn’t get anyone to call me back from places I had inquired about.  Paranoia?  Maybe.


Mind you, this is almost 2 years after my husband and I split.  I had had really bad luck dating since, and was pretty suspicious of every date – from the guy who strategically placed handcuffs on his coffee table and failed at hiding his rage for women, to an old classmate with an obvious Herp infection, to another gent that wanted to help me with my car by “wrecking” it first then wanting me to give him money to fix it.  Oh, and my old secret high school crush, a very handsome military man – we’d go out and at the moment I thought there would be an attraction, he would announce he had a girlfriend, or he got back together with his girlfriend “Lezlee” or, he’d take me to a gay Karaoke bar so I could sit there and watch him slap another guys butt…mmmm, let’s just say I ran far away (in my head). 


Fuckin’ Zombies.


Okay, I’ll stop complaining.  These are all my bad decisions, and I own every single one. 


After that I decided to stop dating men for a while, at least until I could get my life back together.  Been almost 18 months now, and one of the best decisions I’ve made for myself through this whole ordeal. 

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