I hardly ever talk about this to anybody, but I started to recover memories of this stuff after I hit puberty. I don't really know if I was sexually abused. My mother didn't speak to me for two weeks after I came out to her. I was the oldest brother and I would be the one made fun of for my gayness.
I had no choice but to deny, but I was also so uncomfortable lying. And when my siblings would poke fun at me, it was so uncomfortable. I spent so many fucking hours praying that God turn me ungay. When I was a teenager and I started to realize that I was actually gay, I was horrified. They would fucking make fun of me for hours for being gay. Of course I continued denying until I couldn't anymore. I had been made fun of for being gay by my siblings nearly my entire life. I was kept in the psych ward for a few weeks before they would let me go. I had made my decision and it was reversed. I had been quite depressed and sad for a long time. Something didn't strike my mother right about how I was leaving the house. I was horribly stupid and downed the pills before driving off with my car to some deserted parking lot where the pills could finish me off. I have wanted to end my life for some time.
