The Opposite of Normal by Andrew Boggan (ereader for comics txt) 📖

noticed 2 guys holding hands openly in the street. Their behavior was like nothing I had ever seen before but I suddenly made a snap decision to follow them and see where they were headed. I followed them down the street past a few blocks and they walked into a night club called “The Wickham”. Even tho I was 17 years of age at the time, the security bouncer at the main entrance of the club either didn’t notice me or he knew that I was under age decided to turn a blind eye to my real age. None the less I headed into the club and I walked into a world where I was mentally unprepared.

I was standing in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by men so well defined with their hardcore stomachs. The glowing laser lights reflected off the skin of the men dancing away on the floor. I didn’t feel as if I was in my element but I was very noticeable of the fact that there were so many body types around in the club and they were all socializing with various groups of people. I was now a distant memory away from school and I could begin on laying the foundations for my new life.

The memories of high school slowly faded away over a 2 year period, even to the point where I could hardly remember some of the emotional and physical abuse that I endured. I had comfortably came out as gay, made a few close friends and even began to feel what it was truly like to have a social life and experience close personal supporting relationships with friends. Although I had certainly grown both mentally and physically, I still experienced a high degree of isolation and anxiety however, it didn’t match the same level of anxiety from my school days. By now I had mastered the art of putting into place coping strategies when feeling stressed or social anxiety, even to the point where I didn’t realize anxiety was occurring.

Only one downfall had occurred between the completion of high school and now, I hadn’t continued with my writing. Although I completely missed getting behind my typewriter and writing my scripts, I was too obsessed with going out with my friends and catching up on the life style that I never got a chance to be apart of.

My time at TAFE was one of the most memorable times that I’ve had up until now. I went forth to study a Diploma of Child Protection and a Diploma of Youth Work. Without attempt, my personality and physical presence was respected and appreciated. Everyone in the class came into the course with one simple mission: to learn how to help others. Therefore respect for diversity and different backgrounds were automatically appreciated.

There were many wonderful people that I formed close relationships with. Armenia was a beautiful Muslim woman who displayed the true beauty of the religion of Islam and had great aspirations to work with refugee women; Valarie was hoping to go into work with young women who had become victims of domestic violence and sudden infant death syndrome based on her own personal experiences and Roz had just hoped to help anybody where she could.

The teacher for one of my subjects decided to introduce us to the basic fundamentals of counseling, and required a student to be counseled in front of the class. I was somehow picked out of the crowd to be the test subject.

The aim of the exercise was to detail a very important aspect within our lives where we still felt issues were unresolved, so I decided to mention about being diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome and the events that led up to my suicide attempt. Little did I know that this would have a highly profound impact on other people.

I sat there in front of the whole class trying desperately to remember particular events and discuss my suicide attempt in such detail. After a number of years I had buried these memories far into the back of my mind that I nearly forgot them all. By using various counseling techniques such as open-ended questioning, clarifying, paraphrasing and summarizing, the teacher and the students captured a snapshot of basic counseling based on real events.

At the end of the session I had been through a slight degree of emotional trauma and wept as the session came to a close. As I turned around to the face class before heading back to my seat, 18 out the 20 students were either in tears or in shock holding their hands over their mouth in a state of shock. I slowly stood up to walk back to my desk and as I did, the entire class rose and gave me a standing ovation for what I had discussed.

Never, in my whole life had I been placed on a podium and acknowledged in such a way. This time my vulnerability was not left open for the world to destroy, I was simply being thanked for being me. I never knew this was possible, I had never seen anybody be appreciated like this before. I always knew that everyone possess some sort of power to change things, but I had learnt that day that I changed people’s perceptions and thoughts about how others can view the world. For once I had used my power for the greater good unknowingly.

2001 had miracousally turned out to be an amazing year. Although there were a few events that taken place that were quite negative, my positive experiences far outweighed the negative. In 2001 September 11 had occurred on the streets of New York City, my grandfather had passed away from a long battle with cancer and I had a few relationships that eventually broke down, however, compared that with graduating from TAFE with a job offer in Sydney as Youth Worker, an offer into Queensland University of Technology to undertake a Bachelor of Social Science and newly formed friendships, I was certainly pressing forward with a life filled with positive change.

I started to realize that no matter who we are as a person and what qualities we possess, weather that be obscure, strange or different, I learnt that there is always somebody out there to appreciate qualities that we have within ourselves that are outside our control.

The week before Christmas of 2001 I was invited by a group of friends to join them for dinner. I started to get quite used to be invited to various social events. A table was booked that evening at the Sportsman’s Hotel, a local inner city gay bar. I walked into the lounge bar of the hotel and walked towards the table where my friends were gathered. Shane, another good mate of mine had introduced me to a dashing 28 year old named Bruce. Myself and Bruce had connected instantaneously. Along with studying my Diploma, I had finished my Certificate IV in Workplace Training & Assessment and Bruce, who was in the middle of studying the same course; we found many topics to discuss.

Bruce ran his own training business running training classes in the areas for surf lifesaving, bronze medallion and senior first aid. Bruce’s motivation to have long exciting career that could grow and prosper was certainly exciting as I couldn’t have seen myself with somebody who didn’t have career goals and expectations from within themselves. During the entire dinner me and Bruce spent much time discussing our personal goals, career expectations and future travel plans. Without notice time had gotten away and we spent 4 hours talking over dinner.

I stepped outside into the hot summer air to catch a taxi home and whilst I was standing alone waiting, Bruce quietly snuck up on me and lightly grabbed me on the arm. He took me by surprise as I didn’t see him standing there. He told me about an upcoming pool party that he was holding a week after New Year and that if I didn’t have any plans it would be great for me to show up. Without any sort of hesitation I agreed to go to the party. Even tho I’m not one for parties, the invite in itself made me ecstatic as I had never been invited to an actual party. I didn’t really mind that Bruce was a little older than me, he seemed to have direction in his life and I found this totally appealing. A lot of the guys I tend to have met who were around my age just seemed so different so I always tried to maintain a big distance with their presence when out and about in clubs and bars.

On the night of the party I caught the train over to Bruce’s house. During the entire journey on the train I kept my iPod in my ears with my music blaring doing whatever it toke to distract me from having to attend a party. Although I was excited about seeing Bruce and going to a real party, the thought of having to attend a social environment made my heart race at an incredible speed. Even tho I knew that a group of people were looking forward to seeing me, the thought actually being in a social environment was rather daunting.

I eventually made it to the party and I slowly walked up to the gates of Bruce’s house. As I stood outside I could hear the laughter of everyone having a good time and the distant smell of sausages cooking on the bbq. Hesitantly I went to press the doorbell on the gate, and then before I could actually hit the button I moved my arm away, reconsidering if I should actually attend. I must have repeated this several times before working up the courage of hitting the doorbell. I never actually got a chance to hit the doorbell, Bruce had seen me standing behind the tall rusty Iron Gate so he came down and let me in.

I was well aware of the fact that I had nothing to be scared of by attending the party, but that certainly didn’t stop some level of anxiety from making my blood rush. I perceived the party to be a group of people all observing my every move and taking notice of my actions. I guess it came down to the fact that what I perceived was not always true.

One of the best decisions I had ever make was to attend the party. I knew all the people that had gone and we spent many hours that night playing water volleyball and a few games of pool.

Everybody had taken on some kind of role at the party. Bruce, who was the host, kept on pouring everyone drinks and getting all the games ready, Shane had been cooking all the meat on the bbq and Tasha seemed to be the life of the party with her wise-cracking jokes. I felt somewhat outcasted but I refused to let that bother me. I didn’t take on any major role at the party, really just an attendee. I sat at the table and listened to jokes, got into some of the games and helped Shane cook on the bbq. I think I had covered my anti-social skills rather well that night. Had it not been for Bruce, I wouldn’t have had such a wonderful time and by attempting to suppress the fear of social anxiety, I had a most memorable time that I would never forget.

Over several weeks I spent much time with Bruce getting to know him. He was even kind enough to fly me down to Sydney for a weekend with him. It was in