As I think about writing this chapter, I wonder what I’m really writing about. I mean is this a book about the mystic Caleb, the artistic Caleb, the gay Caleb. Is this a self-help book or a do it yourself guide? The truth is once we get to this part of the story it is clear that there is no difference between any of these Calebs. My crazy journey has and will continue to include all of these elements. It was however in my teenage years that it became all so obvious.
My teenage years were weird, but that shouldn’t surprise anyone. It is a time after all when our hormones begin to hit and trigger not only physical but psychical things within us. I tell you I would have been a prime candidate for some poltergeist activity, fortunately, the phenomenon that surrounded my adolescence was mild for the most part. I was however very aware at that point that I was gay, I was also aware that I seen and experienced things that others did not. I began to experience my headaches around that time, and they have never left me. This I have found out is quite common to those that are mystically inclined. The native Americans consider that to be one of the signs of a medicine man.
So there I was in a Midwest factory town, a gay, mystically minded, psychic teen with hormones racing through my body. I felt more isolated than ever during those times. I had no one I felt like I could tell these things to. I knew I was gay, I still seen and talked to my dead sister and I was now getting headaches that the doctors told me I was making up. Still I look at these times as a time of great discovery for me. I was awakening in many many ways. In those days I didn’t have the vocabulary to explain it like I do now. All I was sure of is that I was drawn to all things artistic, mystical, magical, religious and spooky. This set me up for the epic battle that played out inside me. The old good versus evil both clamoring for my soul. That is how I described it to many people since then and that is precisely how it felt.
It was around that time that I became fascinated by religion. Since I was in a small town my choices were limited. It was the 80s, the cold war, the Reagan era and all that. It was only beginning to be okay to talk about religion and sex and alternative stuff. So in my mind I had two choices God and Satan. Also in my mind I kept flipping back and forth. Mainly because the God that was being sold to me wasn’t too hip on things like mysticism, Rock ‘n’ Roll and the gays. As a result I truly felt like I was in the midst of some holy war. It was odd for me also because, I felt so religious. I mean, I had this sense of God always, or at least this presence was always around me. Now I would say that I was experiencing the harmony of the universe as a result of being thrust into a situation in which I had to trust absolutely in this harmony in order to survive. However, as I said, I hadn’t developed that vocabulary yet.
So those were my younger years, along with the usual identity struggles that happen to all teenagers. I wanted to be either Prince or Sid Vicious depending on the day. Dressed like some kind of new wave/punk rock/heavy metal wannabe. Even with all this I felt very drawn toward mystical things. In these days I went from deciphering DIO lyrics to Nazarene Churches. Neither worked, so I just felt lost most of the time.
I turned to my vices during this point, and this is truly when things got out of hand. Alcohol and drugs were like fuel to this already blazing hell fire inside of me. It didn’t take long for that to turn ugly. The first time I drank all of that went away, I felt free and quiet in my mind. That was the beginning of yet another problem.
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