This article has been hard to write for many reasons, the biggest of which is that it hits close to home. I do want to stress that I am not a licensed therapist nor have I had any training on this; these are my own thoughts, feelings, and opinions.

My family has a history with depression. Luckily I can say with the exception of my mom’s uncle, we are still all here today and doing a lot better.  I’ve tried to kill myself twice because I was unhappy with where my life was going, because I was dealing with being gay.  My sister tried to kill herself when she was younger, my cousin used to cut herself, and my mom’s uncle shot himself.

Depression affects us all; most of what we see and come into contact with falls into "situational" and "clinical". Situational depression is a depression that occurs in response to a specific set of external conditions or circumstances.  Clinical depression is a condition identified by loss of energy and ability or desire to function, poor sleep or appetite, and/or exaggerated feelings of hopelessness and discouragement.

The reason why I wanted to write this is because I have been trying to help Lisa, a friend in Germany, who has been going through life events that caused her a lot of pain and sadness.  In February, Lisa’s best friend Chris killed himself after finding out he was HIV-positive and left behind his partner, Tom.

Chris felt guilty about being HIV-positive; he cheated on Tom and may have infected the guy he cheated with.  Instead of dealing with the issue, he was so ashamed of what he did he decided the best way to deal (or not to deal) with it was to end it all.  He wanted to end the guilt.

Tom was lost without Chris and tried to kill himself on multiple occasions. He had been staying with Lisa and her family so she could keep an eye on him in hopes that he would get better and not try to cause himself any harm.  Lisa was determined not to lose Tom and tried to stay at Tom’s side 24-7.  However, this is unrealistic in any scenario, and not healthy for her or her family.  Lisa was starting to feel the effects of Tom’s depression; she wasn’t able to sleep, cried a lot, while lying in bed holding Tom, and started to withdraw from her family.

Last Wednesday morning, I received word that Tom was finally successful at committing suicide; he took advantage of Lisa’s absence from the house and took his car for a ride into the side of a bridge. Lisa was only gone for an hour, and when she returned home she noticed Tom’s car was gone.  Two hours later, the police showed up at her house to tell her the horrible news.

In a two-month span, Lisa lost two friends. Now she is feeling like somehow she has let Tom down for not being there to make sure he wouldn’t succeed in his plans.  However, this was not Lisa’s fault or in her control; Tom made up his mind long before Wednesday that he was going to kill himself and no matter how much Lisa and her family were there for him he was going to follow through with it.  Lisa is now starting to understand that; and with the help of her husband, she is starting to get things back to normal. It’s going to be a tough road for Lisa but she has the support of wonderful people in her life and my thoughts and prayers are with her.

My view on suicide has changed a lot since I tried to kill myself.  I now see it as a cowardly, selfish thing to do. A person attempting suicide wants the pain to end so bad that they never look or think about what they are doing to others around them, like their family and friends. 

However, this wasn’t a thought that came to me quickly.  While I was locked up I was able to see how my actions affected those in my life. The first time I tried committing suicide, I just wanted the pain to subside. I don’t think I was really planning on causing myself to die; I mean it in the sense that I tried to end my life.  After weeks of watching movies/TV, I was released.

The second time was a lot different; I took a lot of pills and chased them down with a bottle of my favorite champagne. By the time the paramedics arrived, I was barely breathing; they had to insert a tube into my throat.  While one was trying to get the tube in, another had to sit on my chest to hold me down.  After a few days in the ICU, I was transferred to Beaumont Psychiatric Hospital.

This hospital was no joke (or at least the section I was in) -- there were people that were not just suicidal but crazy on a whole new level.  If I wanted to shave I had to go to the nurse and get a razor and shave in front of an orderly, then return the razor to him so he coul give it back to the nurse.  There were therapy sessions, both group and one-on-one, that we had to attend as part of treatment.

During one visit my mom said, “When you were in San Francisco, you were worse off and you never did anything like this; why are you now?” She got me thinking because she was right.  When I was in San Francisco, I was sleeping out of my truck, in homeless shelters, even on the street -- yet I never tried to hurt myself. This had to be the lowest point in my life. I started to see what my actions were doing to my family; I missed the birth of my nephew because I was feeling sorry for myself.

As days passed, I started to listen to the other patients' problems and issues in group therapy. There was a gentleman in his late 60’s, there because he wanted to kill himself. His partner had died 5 years before and he was tired of being alone. His friends were all gone and he was in bad health due to HIV and diabetes.  All he wanted to do was see his soulmate again.  He tried to kill himself by taking one of his insulin needles to pump air into a vein to cause a heart attack.  He passed out from the pain before he could accomplish this goal.

Another patient, a mother of three, was laid off work and she was having a hard time finding a job about the same time her husband was released from prison. He started using and dealing drugs and infected her with HIV that he contracted in prison.  She decided to turn to prostitution so that she could feed her kids. Once she received notice that her HIV was now full blown AIDS, she turned to heroin and purposely overdosed so she would not have to face her children.

While hearing these stories I started to ask myself, “What the hell am I doing here?” The therapist asked me what I did that got me sent there. I stated this was my second time trying to commit suicide by overdosing, I felt like that my life was going downhill fast, I didn’t know who or what I was, and I saw myself as a failure, both as a marine and as a human.

As time went on I started to realize that everyone in the hospital with me was completely different, yet we all made decisions based on our own circumstances. During the visitations, I saw how each person’s family acted, who visited, and who didn’t.  It started to make me realize that no matter what, I have my family and that’s what life was  - having loved ones close to you.

From that moment on I decided to take the negatives and turn them into positives. I missed my family, I wanted to see my nephew, I wanted to get out of that hospital and start turning things around.

I still struggle with depression. To say that I’m fixed is far from the truth. I’ve learned ways to cope with my problems and issues, though.  When I look back on my time in Beaumont, I’m thankful for having been there and going through what I did because I realized that nothing is that hard to deal with when I have family, friends, and loved ones around.  If I was successful in ending my life, I would not have seen my nephew or niece, I would have never met so many wonderful people in my life, and I wouldn’t be here writing this and sharing my experiences or helping others through theirs.

Never give up hope

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Valentine’s Day is not just a time for romance.  It’s a day to show that you care for others, like friends, family, and loved ones.

For me, Valentine’s Day has never really been a special occasion.  Growing up, my grandmother and mom would always get my sister and I a box of chocolates.  I remember my sister would always stick her finger in the bottom of each piece to see what the flavor was.  I really think she did that just to make sure that no one would eat them.

As I grew up, the importance of the holiday never really sunk in with me, no matter if I was single or in a relationship.  It was just a normal day for me.  What I never understood was why just show how you feel towards all the special people in your life one day of the year.  I try to make sure that everyone in my life knows just how special they are to me.

This is also a time when depression sets in and we look back on our lives and think fondly of the loved ones lost.  A few weeks ago a friend lost someone very close to her.  He found out that he was HIV-positive, and he was in a nine-year relationship with his partner who was HIV-positive.  When he found out he decided to hang himself instead of talking to anyone about it, leaving behind his partner, his family, and his friends in shock with so many questions unanswered.  My thoughts and prayers go out to all those involved.

For me, this Valentine’s Day is different.  I finally get it, and I understand the whole lovey-dovey-gooey feelings that consume everyone.  I want to share how Scott and I met; hopefully you will see what I mean when I said I finally get it.  So that you get the full gist of it, let me fill you in on the back story.

A friend of mine, Kesha, kept trying to hook me up with her friend for awhile, but I was unsure if I was ready to meet up with anyone new – so I avoided her.  I had been single for a year after getting out of a five-year relationship, which was not the best. So I was a little gun-shy, so to speak.  I spent the days in the office and nights either at home keeping my dogs company or training for the AIDS Life/Cycle.  So, I always seemed to have an excuse as to why I wasn’t hanging out with her.  Besides, I was thinking about leaving Kentucky to move to San Francisco anyway, so I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone.

It wasn’t until Memorial Day weekend of last year that I saw Kesha and agreed that when I returned from the AIDS/LifeCycle I would go out with her and meet her friend.  I went to the guy’s going away party the Friday after I returned, which also happened to be Louisville’s gay pride weekend.  At that point, I had made up my mind to put my house up for sale and focus on moving back to San Francisco, so I was going to the party just to make Kesha happy.

Friday quickly came and I was meeting with the realtor prior to heading out to meet her.  Everything was set; the house was listed, a sale sign was posted in the yard and I was running late to the restaurant.  While walking up to the entrance of the restaurant this guy came up to me and said, “Nick, I’m Scott.  Kesha and everyone is in the far back”.  As I was walking to the table I noticed Kesha and the guy she wanted me to meet.  I took a seat between them and was feeling a bit out of sorts.  I ordered a few drinks and started to relax.  Don’t get me wrong - her friend was cute and seemed like a nice guy but there were a few things that stopped us from clicking.  He was moving away to New Orleans in two weeks and, I didn’t feel a connection with him.

Everyone at the party left the restaurant and started walking to the Belvedere, which is an area along the Ohio River waterfront.  I started talking to Scott as we were walking around.  I thought he was in a relationship with someone that was at the party.  As the night went on, we kept getting to know each other further.  I remember asking Kesha what the deal with Scott was and if he and his friend were seeing each other.  To my wonderment, they were merely good friends.  Scott was playing coy, saying to me, “you were here for someone else.  I don’t want to get in the middle of that.”

I couldn’t help it.  I was drawn to him and his personality; there was something about him.  So, I continued to pursue him as we bar-hopped.  We ended up at a bar called The Connection, a GLBT Night Club.

Do you all believe in love at first sight?  Well, I never did until this night.  I started having feelings the moment we started talking.  I could tell he was into me so I wanted to be upfront and honest with him about my status.  We were outside in the smoking section and I was really nervous but I had to tell him before things moved any further.  “Look, I like you and I really want to get to know you more, but I want to be honest with you.  I’m HIV-positive”, I said.  With a big grin on his face Scott said “so am I”.

We went back in and headed to the dance floor.  I went to Kesha and asked her why she never introduced me to Scott before.  She said that if I went to her Kentucky Derby party last year I would have met him.  We have been together pretty much every night since that first night.

If there is anything I have learned from meeting Scott it would be two things.  Be open to meeting new people; you never know how they will impact your life.  Also, if you are given the chance of love, take it.

With all this talk about love and Valentine’s Day I want to take a moment to say this to Scott. I never knew I always needed you, you are my one true complement, and you give me shelter and strength. My life would be incomplete without you, so this is my way of officially proposing; would you do me the honor of being my partner for life?

Update, February 22, 2012. Scott said yes!!!

You can read part one here. 

A Roadie is a person who volunteers their time for a full week of AIDS/LifeCycle working on the event.  Roadies are selfless, dedicated and unbelievably committed as they all volunteer to work the AIDS/LifeCycle.  For 7 days, these folks dedicate their time, energy and hearts to waking up very early, going to sleep very late and being in charge of pretty much all the work that happens on the event.  This includes, but it’s definitely not limited to, setting up and breaking down campsites and rest stops, serving meals, pouring water, making electrolyte drinks, picking up trash, parking bicycles, fixing bicycles, picking up exhausted riders, wrapping sore knees, giving massages, leading cheers, giving directions, hanging signs, making the route, and just about anything else you can think of.  In addition to all this work, Roadies are known for giving hugs, making you laugh, and generally keeping you on your toes.

The food service team was filled with all types of people.  We had a fashion designer who was a rider that was hurt and placed on the team at orientation day, a grandmother and granddaughter, loving mothers, past riders, veteran roadies, friends, a high school teacher, a musician,  a baker, a comedian, personal trainer, just to name a few.  Each Roadie team has their own theme for each day of the ride, this allows the Roadies to have some fun and to make a long day of cycling start and end with a laugh and smile for the riders.  The food service team themes for last year were fun.

The breakfast theme was the same every morning while we were serving breakfast. The theme was Pajama Party.  That’s right we got to wear our PJ’s.  Some wore their bathrobes, hair curlers and kimonos as well.  Some of the other themes were as follows.

Night 1 – Birth Place Night - This allowed us an opportunity to celebrate where we were born.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have anything for this night so I wore a baseball hat and a hoodie.

Night 2 – Rainbow/Crayola Night - The riders were riding 100 miles on this day.  The only thing we were told that we couldn’t wear was rainbow boas because the feathers get in the food.  So, I wore my red Positive Pedalers t-shirt and my rainbow suspenders.  I think I got the kid size because they kept pulling my shorts up to heights that were really uncomfortable.  I started to look and feel like I was the white Steve Urkel.

Night 3 – Dessert Night – I was amazed by some of these costumes and the detail these people put into them.  One of the team members dressed up as an ice cream cone and passed out cherry stickers.

Night 4 – Pet/Favorite Animal Night – This had to be one of my favorite night themes, I wore a monkey on my head. There was also a unicorn, a butterfly, a cat, Roadie-kill, people with shirts of their pets, etc.  It was a time to let out our inner animal self and so we did.

I should discuss Day 5 -- Red Dress Day.  The true name is Dress in Red Day. However, leave it to a bunch of gay men to turn it into Red Dress Day.  This is a very fun day for the entire camp.  My red dress costume was a long Mexican inspired dress with a Dora the Explorer piñata as a headdress.  After breakfast we gathered for a team photo on the playground of the Santa Maria campground.

Night 5 – Circus Night – There were clowns, a lion tamer, a ringmaster, and a magician’s apprentice.

Night 6 – Movie Night – We were in Santa Barbara and since we are so close to Hollywood we might as well celebrate Tinsel town.  Team members dressed up in their Hollywood attire.  There was Max from Where The Wild Things Are, Ari Gold from Entourage, a film director, Star Trek personnel, Austin Powers dancers, a cowboy, The Pink Ladies from Grease, to name a few and we even had someone dress up as a concession stand with all sorts of candy hanging off his body.  Myself, I was able to finally take my long walk down the red carpet to the blinding flashes of the paparazzi.

Not only was it the last night for the ride, it was the last time we would be serving dinner on the ride.  On the last night after dinner when it started to get dark it was time for the Candlelight Vigil on the shore of Venture Beach.  Up to 3,000 people created a massive rectangle of silent reverence for those lost and those suffering.  This was a very sobering experience and after it was over you walk up to the water to put your candle out in the waves.  In my case the candle wouldn’t go out so I kept trying to catch the waves after about the third time I stumbled and stepped into the ocean at the same time the wave came up and soaked me from the shin down.  I took off my shoes and socks and walked the beach in my bare feet back to my tent.

On day 7 we arrived in Los Angles to a crowd of people cheering as the riders were making it into the city.  At the closing ceremonies the guest speaker was the wonderful actress Jane Lynch, whom incidentally is a past rider.  We were told that the AIDS/LifeCycle 10 broke all fundraising goals.  Riders, Roadies, and Staff raised over 13 million dollars to help benefit the San Francisco AIDS foundation and the LA Gay and Lesbian center to fight HIV/AIDS.

After the ride was over and I was on my way back home to Louisville, I was a changed man.  The ride not only made me feel part of a larger community; it made me realize that I am just a part of a much larger world.  It’s very humbling. The world does not revolve around me, and there was still so much love in the world despite what the news says.  It gave me the chance to meet some amazing people and renewed my belief in human kindness.

I enjoy getting to meet new people and hearing the many stories they want to share.  But most of all I enjoy the opportunities of helping others.  Even in the most difficult of situations, being able to help someone and seeing the smile on their face is amazing.  I wanted to share this story so that you will get a glimpse into what the AIDS/LifeCycle is like if you decided to join.  Each person’s experience is and will be different but one thing is for sure; you will be changed for the better.

I am extremely excited for ALC this year.  My partner, Scott, has signed up and will be part of the food service team.  I will be able to share something that means a lot to me with him.  As I close this story I want to leave you with words of inspiration from last year’s AIDS/LifeCycle.  “Life is too short to wake up with regrets.  Believe everything happens for a reason.  If you get a chance, take it.  If it changes your life, let.  Nobody said it would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.  Applaud yourself.”  The Chicken Lady, ALC10.

With the new year starting it’s time to start thinking about resolutions - what you want to do differently and how to better your life.  For me it’s a time to get ready and start fundraising for the AIDS/LifeCycle 11.  This will be my second year participating in the event.

The AIDS/LifeCycle is a 7-day, 545 mile bike ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles that raises money and awareness for the HIV and AIDS services of the L.A. Gay & Lesbian Center and the San Francisco AIDS Foundation.  This marks the eleventh year for AIDS/LifeCycle and the nineteenth for the event overall.  During the week of June 3-9, 2012, thousands of cyclists and volunteer Roadies will come together to do something incredible.  They will do something that will change lives - not only the lives of those living with this horrible disease but also those that participate in this event.

I first heard about ALC when I lived in Washington DC in 2004.  I was at a local pub and there were posters for a fundraising event for a team that would be heading out to participate in ALC 4.  It got my attention so I went home and started doing research on what exactly this thing called AIDS/LifeCycle was.  From what I read and the videos I saw I was amazed and moved at everything this event does.  Never before had I heard of something so large helping so many people.  At that moment it was added to my bucket list.

Years passed and as with most things you tend to forget about what stoked your passion at that time. 2010 was a turning point in my personal life as I was overweight and feeling miserable. I needed to do something to get into shape.  I was surfing the web to find low cost activities for people with HIV that you can do that didn’t include just going to the gym (being overweight I didn’t want to go and feel worse about myself).  I read an article about bicycling and the endorphins that it releases. I starting doing some research and came across the Positive Pedalers website. 

The Positive Pedalers is a group of people living with HIV/AIDS committed to building a supportive and inclusive community for others and themselves through participation in bicycle-related activities. Reading the website, I noticed that they participate in bike rides all over the country with members to match.  One of the rides that they participate in is the AIDS/LifeCycle.  It was like a light bulb went off and that is what I needed.  This was my first time doing anything this large and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know one person out of the thousands that were participating.  However, I knew what an important cause this was for and that’s all that mattered to me.

After I joined the Positive Pedalers I decided to sign up for the Ride and purchase a bike.  On my first training ride I realized that the last time I was on a bike was back in 1991-1992 so, needless to say, I fell a few times.  I wasn’t going to give up. I made a decision and I was going to do what I needed to do to see this through.

After the purchase of the bike I was ready to set out on my fundraising goal.  As a cyclist I was required to raise a minimum of three thousand dollars to participate in the event.  It was a hard year for people worldwide.  The economy had taken a nose dive and I wasn’t sure that I was going to meet the goal and be able to participate.  Fortunately I was able to raise over six thousand dollars thanks to friends, family and even complete strangers. I was amazed by the charity that people showed me.

I had two weeks to go and I was heading to California.  I started to freak out as I realized that I knew no one on the ride.  I had to sleep in a tent for seven days with someone I didn’t know.  How was I going to do this?  Did I not think it through?  Oh, well.  I couldn’t let all my donors down.  The only thing I could do is follow through.  So, with the money raised, plane ticket and hotel booked, I was all set to head off on this adventure.

Due to unforeseen circumstances I wasn’t able to be a cyclist and was placed on the Food Service Team as a Roadie.  I felt like I had failed.  I trained so hard to do something that not many people can say that they have done.  I felt like I let my donors down.

I arrived in San Francisco on June 3rd and after getting to my hotel I started walking around the city remembering how much I loved being there.  I felt a calming ease come over me and I started to realize how much I missed being here. I started worrying about not knowing anyone.  I was looking forward to heading to the Positive Pedalers spaghetti dinner to meet new people, and it was nerve racking to say the least.   While at the dinner I met some great people that made me feel right at home.

Saturday June 4th was Orientation day.  This is where you go sit through the security/safety meeting, get your tent and luggage tags, get your wrist bands, and pick up your incentives. For Roadies this entailed meeting your team face to face and receiving your Roadie shirts.  Little did I know what the next week was going to have in store for me and my life.

You see, something happened during that week in June, something I had never seen before.  People of all walks of life; gay, straight, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, rednecks, white, black, Asian, Pacific Islander, Hispanic, etc. were there.  There was no fighting, no hatred, nothing like you would have expected having three thousand people living and eating together.  I mean even in the military there was always something going on when you get a large amount of people together.  These people were all there for one purpose and that was to raise money, awareness, and support for HIV/AIDS.  No matter if there were people that lost loved ones, have loved ones affected, know of someone that has HIV/AIDS,  just want to help out a great cause, or like myself currently living with HIV.  They all came together for an event that would move the most stubborn of people.

At the start of the ride people told me that you will never be the same person after you do this ride, no matter if you are a cyclist or a roadie.  With great pleasure I can say they were correct.  I met some of the most amazing people, heard the most amazing and heart tugging stories of courage, survival, and loss.  I was so moved by the love and outpouring of support that everyone on this ride gave to each other. I knew that I had to be a part of this going forward from now on. The one thing I can say that made the biggest impact on me and my decision to continue to do this event is knowing that these people are taking the time out of their lives to fight a disease that most of them do not have.  With their help and the help from all the wonderful donations that we receive we will defeat this horrible disease.

Going into my second year I’ve decided to stay as a Roadie, and be a part of the Food Service Team again.  These people accepted me and welcomed me into their family and I am forever grateful to them.

With The Iraq war coming to a close and the U.S. Military coming home for the holidays, I started to think about my time in the Marine Corps and thought I would share my experience.

It all started September 2nd, 1996, the day I left for boot camp.  My family took me out for a going away dinner before I had to meet the recruiter.  You see, my mom was a mess that whole day as she didn’t want me to go.  At dinner my father kept adding extra shots of tequila to her margaritas.  By the time the dinner was over and I had to leave, my mom could barely walk and I had to carry her.  It is a memory that I will always have with me.

On September 3rd, 1996 I arrived at Parris Island, South Carolina where I would be training for twelve weeks to be one of “The Few, and The Proud”.  After boot camp I headed to Camp Geiger, North Carolina for five weeks of additional training at Marine Combat Training (MCT).   After MCT I was lucky that the Military Occupational Specialty (MOS) school that I was going to wasn’t starting for a few weeks so I was able to head home for Christmas. This would be one of the only times I was able to go home for the holidays.  After the new year (1997) I was packed up and heading to Meridian, Mississippi for Aircraft Maintenance Administration School, MOS 6046.

Being in Mississippi was one of the first times that I started to feel what my military life was going to be like.  Up until this point it was all about training and just doing what you were told from the moment you woke up to the moment you hit the rack.  Don’t get me wrong, you were still told what to do.  However, you had more leeway in what you did after school and formations.  I started to feel comfortable with my decision to go into the Marines.  After four months it was time to get my duty assignment.  I was assigned to Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Yuma, Arizona; the devil’s arm pit of the desert as my Staff Sergeant put it.

I arrived in Yuma and was excited and scared shitless at the same time.  I was assigned to Marine Attack Squadron 311 (VMA-311), a United States Marine Corps fighter squadron consisting of AV-8B Harrier (V/STOL) jets.  Known as the "Tomcats", little did I know that one day I would call these Marines my family.   Right from the start I met some great and crazy people, along with some real douches - just like everywhere.  It was great.

It wasn’t that hard to adjust.  By nature I am a shy, quiet person; a loner so to speak.  So, performing my work and staying out of trouble was easy.  I met this wonderful woman named Rosario at a bar in San Luis, Mexico.  We started to hang out and she made me feel great.  We were like two peas in a pod.  A few months into it something started to change.  I started to realize that I wasn’t as attracted to her as I felt I should be.  I went to visit my sister Kim in San Francisco, California for the 4th of July holiday.  I hadn’t seen her in a long time and I was looking forward to it.  While I was there I fell in love with the city, the atmosphere, and the people.  It was a great visit.  When I returned to Yuma I had this overwhelming feeling that I wasn’t being honest with myself.  I told Rosario that I thought I was gay and she told me that it was just a phase, and that a lot of men say that.  I thought that was a little odd but I figured that I would just let it go.

As time passed the feeling didn’t go away.  Instead it got deeper and stronger.  So, I figured that if I had to pretend to be straight to not have to deal with Don’t Ask Don’t Tell (DADT) who better to spend my life with other then her.  We were best friends, she was funny, caring, charismatic, not to mention very beautiful.  Just to give you an idea of what I am talking about she looked like Salma Hayek. Eventually, I proposed to her and she said yes.

A few weeks later I was headed for my first deployment to Japan and beyond.

While doing the Okinawa 500 on the USS Belleau Wood I realized that I could not lie to Rosario or myself anymore.  I sent her an e-mail from the ship telling her that I was gay and would not be able to marry her.  It was a tough decision but needed to be done.

I started to get to know a few Marines from my squadron a bit better.  It was nice to find people that I had a lot in common with.  We hung out when we docked in Bali, Indonesia, and Queensland, Australia.

When I got back from deployment, I gave Rosario a call so that we could talk.  At first it was a bit uncomfortable but she was very sweet and understanding.  Because I was scared of the DADT policy and didn’t want anyone to find out, I stayed away from the base as much as I could.  Every weekend that I was not on duty I would be in San Diego, CA; just a short two hour drive.

I was confronted by the two Marines I hung out with on deployment.  They didn’t understand why I was never around and took offence to me not hanging out with them.  I told them that I had been hanging out a lot in San Diego.  They wanted to go with me one day so I said sure. While driving to San Diego I decided I need to tell them about my sexuality.  I did value their friendship.  To my surprise they didn’t care.  They told me that they were not gay, but that it didn’t bother them that I was.  For a few weeks I was repeatedly told that they were not gay so I just chuckled to myself, they are great guys but not my type.

During my time visiting San Diego I met a great bunch of military men and women that were like me.  It was a new family of Marines, Navy, and Air Force.  I was trying to deal with everything and these people were going through the same situation so it was nice to hang out with them.  I tried dating while in the Marine Corps but to be honest it was a pain changing names, i.e. Mike to Michelle for example.

As time passed I felt like I was juggling more than I could handle.  The next deployment was coming up and due to family issues the Marine from my shop wasn’t able to go so I volunteered to just get away.  While over in Japan I got a letter that one of the Marines that I met in San Diego who was being stationed in Japan and who wanted to hang out when he got there.  It was nice to have someone that I knew was in the same boat.

I knew that as I was meeting new people and starting to explore being gay that I had been  lucky so far but wasn’t sure how much longer it was going to last.  Everyone that knew was okay about it but I was sure sooner or later I was going to have to deal with those who were not. I didn’t want to become another statistic of gay bashing in the military.

After returning from the second deployment I took a week of R&R.  Little did I know, during this week everything was going to change.  I was called back early by my Master Sergeant.  Before I left for vacation I had made sure that my half of the room was completely squared away.  My rack was made, my wall locker was secured, etc.  I didn’t want my roommate to have to straighten up my side for field day.  Little did I know that my roommate would be someone that broke into my wall locker, where he found a letter from a friend that was talking about the guy he met, among other things.  It made him feel so uncomfortable he felt he needed to report it.

Now, for the strange part.  I was recalled back to base to be informed of this and the resulting consequences.  My heart pounded.  I felt sick to my stomach.  I thought this was it.  When I arrived back on base I was told that my roommate was moving out to not cause any further incidents.  I felt like I was being punished for having a letter.  However, nothing was happening to the Marine that broke into the wall locker.

As the days went on it felt odd, like I wasn’t part of the squadron anymore.  I was excused from field day, the rifle range and duty.  I was told that if anyone asked why or had a problem to talk to the Sergeant Major.  I started to feel isolated, like a freak, a failure.  The family I was a part of for the past four and a half years no longer felt like a family.

I have kept in touch with a few people from my squadron and I have to say I wasn’t as close to them as I would have liked while I was in.  However, they are here now and still part of my family.  I couldn’t ask for a better group of people to know and have in my life.