Coming Out - I am Gay.

Coming Out - I am Gay.

100% true.

I was ill with erratic pulse, blood pressure swings, nightmares – awaking with racing heart, covered in sweat - for quite a while. (No comments please.) So bad - I had to go to the Doctor who then sent me to a cardiologist.

As far as I was concerned – I was about to have an imminent heart attack. Could not sleep properly, massive depression and trapped in something I could not understand.

In the end, unable to tolerate it all, I finally did the smart move after a week in bed – get myself checked out.

At the Docs, something really weird starts. Blood pressure normal, EKG – normal. Doc sends me to cardiologist. Appointment that same day. None of the bullshit of waiting months to see specialists here.

Waiting time – two minutes. Another load of tests and ultrasound. I see and hear that ticker in my chest.

What a huge disappointment. I was nowhere near dying! Fuck all wrong with me – heart fully functional at 100%.

Now – Specialist wants to know what the hell was the reason I was there? I explain. And it did not take long to work out I had locked myself in a psychological cycle of mental self-destruction.

Depression attack – can be triggered by anything – nightmares – awake in panic attack, heart goes mad – full of adrenalin, try to work – come rapidly down – pulse irregular – dizzy – home – depression – can’t sleep properly - Nightmares – think I am about to have a heart attack etc etc.

He broke the circle! The rest collapsed around the fact that besides needing a brain transplant – I was fine.

So now you know. I have come out of my shell and feel positively gay!

That is what has happened to me – but now for some wicked fun…

Oh – oh.

Coming out and admit you are gay?

Er…

Bloody hell, admitting that to...? – an example.

‘Hi Karl, how are you?’

‘Oh, I feel positively gay. It has been such a relief coming out.’

This answer can be concluded with two alternatives –

1. I get hit

2. I get hit on.

This is the way of modern society. You are one way or the other. Either die with a split skull or a split anus. Whichever alternative tends to take your breath away – permanently.

How do you fight against this scrooge of mannerisms where every sentence you speak could result into terrible xenophobic assault or a buggery?

but – us Rhodies always, always, have a plan.

It works like this -

‘Hi Karl, how you doing?’

‘I am dying, heart attack every two minutes, have contracted syphilis mixed with corona virus, have hallucinations where I see Jesus riding an elephant and Zulus keep stomping in my head -NOT.’

‘Oh, I am so pleased you are so well. Come on mate, lets go and have a few pints.’