Gay Hollywood Love

Help Me

Banana and Walnut Loaf
Banana and Walnut Loaf

I wore a Helmet Lang jacket this evening that I have not worn for years.  It felt great.  I trotted off for dinner with my friend Dom and his sweet friends.

I was late.  As I walked over I ended up on the telephone with you know who.   I needed to break things off, or rather recalibrate my relationship with my dear New York friend.    Break things was what I tried not to do; he is already a broken man.   I failed.  I was heavy handed and abrupt.   In spite of my best intentions the seething resentment and obsession and mad thoughts spewed out of me because I couldn’t hold them inside for one minute longer.

The day ended thus.  I felt free for the first time in weeks.

The day began very badly.

This morning, after the 10-second earthquake, I stood naked in the middle of my sitting room sobbing like a baby because all I could think about was him and all I wanted to be rid of was the thought of him.  Our friendship has been so fucking overwhelming-watching him fall apart, pick himself up and be there for him without ever thinking what was best for me.

My fantasy was that a man twenty years younger than me who I met for the first time three short months ago would fall in love, move to LA and get a job in the film industry.  How INSANE is that?

I prayed, “Send me somebody who’s strong and somewhat sincere.”

The good news is that tonight, after our chat, I am feeling a little more like myself.  I have come clean with those I love and admit that I have been looking at pornography rabidly for the past week-as of old-so intense was the feeling.

Whenever I am feeling vulnerable I resort to my old friend-pornography.

Tomorrow I will try for one day of abstinence.  I will try to get through the night without looking at that heaving pile of stinking pink flesh claiming me with so many muscular arms.   For the past week I have stuffed my feelings with porn, cigarettes and food.

My flat is dirty, my clothes strewn over the floor.

This is a lesson in unmanageability, I am powerless over…well, fill in the fucking blank.

You see, I thought that I was falling in love but I was just held hostage by intensity.

The past three months have been wrought with emotion-watching someone I deeply care about tear himself and his life to pieces and being judged for doing so by people who fail to understand his predicament.

The point is-his problem is not my problem and I foolishly shouldered the entire burden of his life.

I have choices yet my choices diminish the moment I get obsessed-a hideous chain reaction then unfolds before me:  Obsession, resentment, anger.  When the pain becomes too much to bare, when I finally get angry enough to reclaim who I really am, then I feel shame for getting viciously angry-then remorseful for how I treated those I love.

My dearest friend I want to thank you for the privilege of watching you be brave.  For demonstrating how the truth can set you free.  Now, fly like a bird my darling.  Soar as high as your tiny wings will carry you.  Never settle for second best.  Don’t give yourself away to fools or liars.   From this moment on always tell the truth. Never tell people what you think they want to hear.  Be true to yourself.

Life is never without lessons to learn and I have learned a great deal during these three amazing months.

You know, my dear, we have our finest days to come but probably as great friends and not as fuck buddies.

And so to bed.  I am so tired.  So bloody tired.  I may even sleep tonight.  Let’s hope so shall we?


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9 replies on “Help Me”

duncan, if its any consolation, after many long years of abstinence, in the form of restricted consumption, first necessity dented the resolve (meals on wheels is not low carb friendly), and then a charming rent controlled apartment that once a week gets a shipment of free breads and bakery goods at just the time that the last of my indebtedness consumed my meager check before i ever saw it, making it necessary to augment my fare with what was free. i fell off the wagon hard, consuming every cookie and cake i could get my hands on. and one sugary carb begs for another, and the cycle of hypo and hyper glycemia now rages in my body. no, its not booze, drugs or sex, but at my age and weight, it is anything but life affirming.

in regards to your post, have you ever heard that the root of all addictions is co-dependency? i’ll tell you what was told to me, relapse is not falling out of precess, it is a part OF the process. now i have to convince myself and surrender and ask my higher power for help, since i am powerless over what i am putting in my mouth right now.

thanks for listening.

It’s the brain chemistry, Jack. Carbs taste sweet and feel good… until the crash. I don’t know if there’s a food bank near you where you can get some canned green veggies? Or maybe there’s a food co-op where you could volunteer some time in exchange for some bags of groceries? I know that it’s hard. I’ve been there.

I would get soy milkshakes at this little health food store near where I used to live because they’re chock full of good protein and they come in chocolate. 🙂 I got to the point where I’d rather have something simple like a milkshake and then splurge on a piece of really good chocolate — sense a theme going on here — or some whole grain salsa and chips… I could sing the praises of this peach salsa. It sounds weird but the sweet and slightly hot… my taste buds give me high fives. Anyway, try and do the best within your budget. Is there a farmer’s market near you? Maybe you could help set up or something in exchange for some fresh veggies and fruit. Don’t get me started on peaches. Anyway,

Try to eat consciously. I know that sounds weird but if you really try and savor what you have, the different smells, tastes and textures, and chew slowly, you’ll be less likely to scarf down your food and feel empty even if you’ve had enough calories to sustain you. When you don’t have much going on, food is something you look forward to and invest in emotionally, way more than you would if you had more to look forward to. If I’ve had a crappy time, I still make plans about what little treat I’m going to get myself, along with the nutritious stuff I’ve trained myself to buy. And boy, do I hate being in training constantly. But my mental state has settled down and that’s such a blessing. So, one foot in front of the other… it’s a marathon, not a sprint. Sorry, I got a wee bit cynical there for a nanosecond.

I wish you all the best. Hang in there. Try and find something else to occupy you. My therapy is books. And chatting.


thanks metal. nothing you have said i don’t know from over 4 years of sanity, but a relapse is a relapse. resetting the body chemistry, and moving a body still weary from the move are the challenge, made more difficult by the inherent mood swings. i loaded on carbs before, but never with such a sweet tooth.

prayer, meditation, honesty. openmindedness and willingness, right duncan. this too shall pass.

Sorry to hear about the relapse..hand in there. It is a day at a time..and sometimes one has to take it a minute of a time. The last few months have been hard to(unemployed, staying with friends in a far off city away from my husband, living with a polyamorous couple, the husband of which I was once romantically involved with(and hubby gave me permission to become involved with again if I desired).The pressure has been building immensely….I want a release….and my mind conjures plenty of ways to do so…but thinking isn’t doing..that’s my mantra today..thinking isn’t doing…thinking isn’t doing…unfortunately..thinking is required before doing occurs..and the fact that I’m thinking…disturbs me..and increases the pressure..too much unstructured time + me does not agree…

Ouch, Heather. Kinda there with you in part: unemployed, have had to move, will be moving again as the remodel to ready the house for sale, where I’m living with friends has been moved up. Don’t have the loss of companionship of a mate or the temptation of an ex to deal with though. You’re bearing up remarkably well.

If you’re worrying that you’re on a slippery slope when you say to yourself that thinking isn’t doing. Nip that thought in the bud, sister. Substitute the thought of french kissing a 6 ft. tarantula. If that doesn’t cool your jets, well… we’ll think of something else. LOL Hang in there, kitty. (Sappy poster but positive.)


Glad to know that you’re okay.

Wow! I can hear her sweet voice singing as I read the words of the song. I believe that sometimes people come into our lives not to stay but to guide us and teach us in transition. We are always both teachers and students of emotional and spiritual literacy. And it’s hard when you’ve been emotionally dyslexic or you’ve had a traumatic heart injury that forces you to learn or relearn what others have been practiced at for years. Like a traumatic brain injury, it’s almost like you have to learn to engage in the most simple emotional interchanges like taking baby steps or feeding yourself. It’s back to pre-school, kindergarten or middle school for some of us who’ve been asleep.

We’re addictive personalities because we try to fill the holes inside that are emotional or spiritual with things that don’t nourish but just stuff the holes and suppress the pain and the feelings that lead us to question, and to search and to hopefully find true nourishment and wisdom. Knowledge without wisdom is just a bunch of sausage stuffing, the sizzle without the steak. It’s terrifying to be aware and feel the need to change without having a technical manual.

You’re just learning to feel. And as you’ve said, you’re not practiced in relationships. Of course you’re going to get co-dependent. Of course you’re going to obsess. And if you feel you can help… it feels so good to be the strong one, not the needy one, doesn’t it? But that’s the whole process. It’s not necessarily live and learn. You have to be awake to learn. Some people can walk through life and never learn a thing or participate in the alchemical change that grants wisdom. Go easy on yourself. You wouldn’t beat up on a baby just learning to balance and walk because he couldn’t tap dance would you? You’re that child. Find him something that makes him laugh. Not snarky, not condescending, but just joyous. When you were a little kid, despite the abuse, was there something that made you laugh, gave you joy? DO IT AGAIN! I don’t care if it’s eating cotton candy at a fair or finger painting or playing with Legos of matchbox cars. Find SOMETHING. I read of one child star who created the room he wasn’t allowed to have as a child, complete with period lunch boxes and a bunk bed. He’d been sexually abused as well. And he knew he got it for himself, that he had survived and that HE WAS SAFE.

We are SURVIVORS. And we are transforming. It’s hard, tiring work. That’s why you need support. Please, Please, PLEASE, call your sponsor instead of clicking on a web page. Start going to daily meetings again. Get in your car with the windows up, take a drive on the PCH and fucking scream until your throat’s sore. (I don’t have a car, and it’s not very private where I am but I take a deep belly breath, open my mouth and SCREAM silently. Like I was lip syncing to the loudest primal scream heard on the earth. It helps. Trust me.) Get some cheap china and smash it in the fireplace. Beat the crap out of a pillow. Get a heavy bag, a kick boxing DVD & kick & punch the bag until it bursts. Watch sad movies and let go of all those tears you couldn’t cry as a child and a young man. You need to get those emotions out. Write a journal FOR YOU. No one else. Screw the lot of us. You are entitled to SOME private thoughts. Not sick secrets to get out with a group or therapist but your own dialog with yourself. A friend of mine, who came, shared, and left great memories, told me that as a recovering alcoholic, it wasn’t getting sober that was the hardest part. It was believing that despite the damage that he caused, that IT WAS OKAY TO FORGIVE HIMSELF. THAT IT WAS OKAY FOR HIM TO BE WELL. THAT HE DESERVED HIS SOBRIETY AND A GOOD LIFE.

I heard a woman preacher talk about the fear that comes with change. That people pray to God to change their circumstances just as long as THEY don’t have to change. She talked about butterflies and how miraculous their transformation is. Frogs, too. They start out as one thing and become not a bigger, better version of themselves but something ENTIRELY DIFFERENT. Butterflies go from a worm-like caterpillar clinging to a leaf to a thing with wings that floats on air. Hell, monarch butterflies MIGRATE to somewhere THEY’VE NEVER BEEN! Frogs change from a fish-like tadpole breathing water to something with legs that can walk on land and breathe air. She said that when the butterfly is in it’s chrysalis or the tadpole wakes up and finds that it’s tail is disappearing and that a leg has popped out on it’s body that it must be terrifying. They know that something is going on and that they’re changing and that they can’t stay the same or they’ll die, but they don’t know what they will become. BUT FAITH LEADS THEM THROUGH. They just allow the change to happen. They allow grace to work through them. Not for nothing, you have to ASK, and then you receive.

Allow grace to work through you, Duncan. BELIEVE that you are forgiven. BELIEVE that you deserve a great life. You’re not a beggar in God’s world. You don’t deserve crumbs. YOU ARE ENTITLED TO THE BANQUET. You have a long standing invitation. YOU ARE WORTHY. ACCEPT IT. And be a teacher, a student, and a guide to the feast.



I think with all the emotional upheaval in your life the past few months, you have such a heavy load on your shoulders .
Time for a wee break from it all, to concentrate on Duncan, and his health and happiness. Many of your other readers are so articulate , that i think they have covered it all, in words i dont know how to use. And shame on the shmuck that sent in nasty comments to you. My Dad {who was a wise and wonderful old dude, i miss him every day} would tell you, consider the source and forget it, some one like that is trying to cause you hurt, isnt worth the energy.
Go have a good day Duncan, make it yours, look at the ocean, walk wee dog, and send me some of that banana walnut loaf.
Seriously. Im thinkin how delish that would be with my coffee for brekky. 😉

Good morning Duncan. I hope you’re feeling better today. I wanted to let you know that I think you’re doing great! You’re living life fully.

Life isn’t about a perfect package with a pretty bow on top. It’s all the ups and downs and twists and turns that makes the journey worth living. Perfection is boring and unrealistic — although, I have to say, your banana walnut loaf looks close to perfection!

You have so much courage to really look at your life and see what works and what doesn’t. You stop what you don’t want in your life and you are embracing what you do want in your life. You’re honest, you cry, you love, you laugh, you feel pain and that’s so cool — because that means you’re living. You’re feeling everything and you’re not dulling the pain. You fell in love with a really hot guy. Wonderful! It might not be the right time for either one of you now, but at least you had the experience.

Feel good about experiencing life. No one’s life is perfect. We’re all doing the best we can. Porn is your pacifier right now. You may stop cold turkey or it may take you a while to ween off of it. Don’t be so hard on yourself. The length of time you need it will be less and less until you won’t need it anymore. Hang in there. You’re perfect in your imperfections.

Well, it’s a process. Just like the ancient one. Confess, repent, try to go and sin no more. You’re absolved.

No one is strong enough to be infallible. Learn from it.

Best wishes to you.

(Like the millions of the lost and lonely ones, I call out to be released!)

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