When you’re a 6’2″ 210-pound, gay, black male the bad guys might be out to get you. But you can still have an open heart.
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Many times, the shadows in my mind aren’t shadows at all, but an authentic response to authentic danger.
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I deal with an often crippling social disorder. “Hypervigilance” as my therapist termed it. Everyone has their bag of rocks. That’s mine. An ever-present, all-consuming watchfulness. More attuned to danger than the average human, to the point that I often imagine traumatic social interactions that simply don’t exist. There’s the real world playing out in front of me, and then there’s the world that my demons fabricate. The latter is full of jutting glass shards, rusting nails, and landmines at every turn. That world lacks kindness altogether. It’s a war zone with no hope of victory. In that world I’m a vile thing and people respond to me with loathing. Or pity. Or a queasy mixture of both. That world is waiting at every corner, in every human interaction. If I’m not careful, that world will grab hold and suck me in fast. And the wounds that result are lasting.
I have a feeling “hypervigilance” will become a household word, like anxiety. Like depression. In response to the growing ubiquity of moments like Orlando.
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That’s one piece. The other piece is I’m gay. And a black man. In this country, and in this time. Which means that my hypervigilance gets reinforced. It means that many times, the shadows in my mind aren’t shadows at all, but an authentic response to authentic danger. Because my 6’2″ 210 pound gay, black frame makes many people uncomfortable, whether they are aware of their discomfort or not. Whether they try (valiantly) to heed their better angels and suppress their discomfort or not. Whatever the case, I see the subtle dance play out in their eyes in response to my presence. I see it because I’m so painfully attuned to the subtle ways that eyes dance. And in response I shrink myself – physically, or intellectually – if they have actual power over my body, or if they have something I want. If not – I ignore. And that’s been my way of coping with over-sensitivity since I was very young. With time and practice, I’ve learned to shut off my heart with the flick of a switch. When I tell loved ones what it’s like in my head, they’re usually disbelieving at first. I guess I’ve gotten good at what I do. One side of it. Turning my heart back on once the perceived danger has subsided – I’m not very good at that.
I share all this, despite the panicked voice in my head urging me not to, because I have a feeling it’ll help someone. Especially the way the world is going these days. I have a feeling “hypervigilance” will become a household word, like anxiety. Like depression. In response to the growing ubiquity of moments like Orlando. As collective denial wears thin and real fear sets in. “In the new century, I think we will all be insane.” – Angels in America
More than ever, I’m spurred to live urgently. To fight my demons ferociously so that I can do what I came here to do: put beautiful things into the world. And then let it go.
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So from someone that has a 28-year head start on battling this particular boogeyman, I offer this advice: When you walk outside and you feel exposed, raw to the elements – everything’s jagged glass and landmines, everyone’s out to get you, and there seems to be no kindness in sight – Stop. Breathe deeply. Try to get quiet in your mind and your body. Think of all the people that love you and wish you well. Don’t shrink yourself. Stand in your full height. And resist the impulse to turn off your heart. Try not to go numb. Stay open. It’s true: this world is scary as fuck. And sometimes you’ll feel it. But it’s also beautiful as fuck and you wanna feel that too. Otherwise, what’s the point of being here?
In the moments when it all feels raw, take a deep breath, look the boogeyman in the face, and proceed from a place of love. No one has the power to steal your joy. Your joy is your birthright. No one has the power to turn off your heart but you. It’s where your real strength is and it’s untouchable.
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Orlando hit me hard because that could have been me or any one of my dearest friends. On any given Saturday night. Dipping it and doing it at the club. Laughing, cruising, drinking, dancing our cares away. Vibing on the ease of deep trust and unspoken understanding. Living.
More than ever, I’m spurred to live urgently. To fight my demons ferociously so that I can do what I came here to do: put beautiful things into the world. And then let it go.
Let’s all live urgently. Fight the demons with all we’ve got. Soak up all the beauty we can find. Do the thing we came here to do. And then leave this place a little better off than we found it.
When in doubt, proceed with love.
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Photo: Getty Images
Gee that’s too bad you have to carry this. I think I’d like you just fine the way you are. You think and express and I like that in a person. I wish I had some opportunity to lessen your vigilance even just a bit by my acceptance of simply another person. But I can’t. But, know that there is at least one person more in the world that wishes you well. Peace man.