Having gone through the constantly changing algorithms of my 22 years of life, I began to believe that I had it all figured out. Specifically, I thought I had myself figured out. I assumed that both addressing and acknowledging my issues, consuming numerous antidepressants, and reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love,” at 12 years old, that I was in-tune and balanced with my emotions and in some cases better than others.

I was convinced that due to the chemical imbalances in my brain that I had to work extra hard to find contentment and be in the vaguest terms possible “happy.”

But like many 22 year olds, I was lying to myself. No matter how honest I thought I was being with myself, I would only acknowledge and take credit for the actions of my choosing. My indecisive self is constantly making the wrong or questionable choices that further bury myself deep into my own bullshit.

From attaining higher levels of education, finding new employment opportunities and forming spiritual and potentially romantic bonds with individuals, life can feel overwhelming even at 22. It can feel like the choices I make inevitably determine what my future holds. It’s confusing being at a point in your life where you’re not considered an adult yet too old to be a child.

From the teachings of my mother, I was always told to think logically with my head about things before taking action. Growing up watching Disney films, I was told that my heart was worth giving a listen to and that it had my best interests while making serious life-changing decisions. And like most men, our dicks make us do things that turn US into serious dicks.

The thing is, I could never determine the direct source to my own wreckage. In the process of thinking and making these decisions… what am I thinking with? Is either of these entities the voice of reason or the reason for my destruction? I want to know where to put the blame on, whether it’s my head, my heart, or maybe it is just my dick.

1. The Head

I like to think that I know a lot about the things that co-exist in my head. For instance, I know that it’s primarily the most logical part of myself. I know it’s a part of me that has the best intentions, not to mention the knowledge from our past experiences help better ourselves as we aspire to be a better human each passing day.

I like to believe that I have an abundance of knowledge and it’s due to my never-ending curiosity. Because of it, I was that annoying child who would always bombard adults with my never-ending questions. My curiosity can lead to learning and in the process of learning, I find answers which essentially became knowledge. For example, how it takes me about 5 minutes to get a joke and that’s not even after it’s been told because I got distracted remembering that dog I saw last week.

The relationship that I share with my head is complex like it is with most people, but it’s also still stable and constantly developing as we begin to learn new things about one another.

In a study from the Anxiety and Depression Association of America 16.1 million of our country’s population is hurting from anxiety and depression, including myself. It’s like my brain was the ripest red apple that has now been poisoned. I’ve known this a while now. There are times where I often find it difficult to even leave my bed at the start of the day. The covers and sheets from my bed are so welcoming as I sink further and further from reality making it impossible to escape.

Moments like this are the worst. What hurts the most is that I am unable to cry. However, even though I may feel paralyzed and numb my mind is constantly moving.

In a way, I find myself reaching. Reaching for past memories and events that were traumatic and now prevent myself from moving forward.

I’ve even reached for future events that have yet to occur and that inevitably keeps myself moving forward as well. I was under the impression that I found satisfaction in holding myself back. But the reality is that this isn’t entirely my fault. I’ve been poisoned years of struggling with mental illness and I’m just trying to make sense of why I’m hurting.

I’ve been reaching onto anything in hopes of finding an explanation. But there is no reason to venture back or too forward beyond my reach. I have no control of what happens to myself and that drives me crazy… but because I may not have control of the unknown it doesn’t mean that I should be fearful or continue to sink further and further into this bed. I needed to take into account that there is nothing wrong with disclosing that I’m simply not okay. After all, I’ve made breakthroughs over the years and each day seems to hurt a little less than the next.

I look back to all the decisions that I had been faced with. It seems that though I would take time in making serious decisions I would also often decide on impulse. This has affected my working environments. But I like to think that I did the best that I could with the cards that I was essentially given. When I look to my head for advice it can be difficult because I sometimes know what I need to do before I even know it. Although I can encounter negative and harmful friction, I fight through and I commend that strength because I could never do any of this alone.

2. My Heart

When listening to my heart for a different perspective I’d often disregard it with my somewhat reckless behavior. I’ve often thrown it on a table as if I’m placing my final bets in a losing game of roulette. As I continue to gamble, the cards of love are never in my favor yet I continue to play its wicked game of intimacy.

I do it because it’s kind of like a high. A burst of adrenaline every-time I meet “The One.” Before I even get to really know the person my heart affects my head begin to develop an unrealistic image of them and our future. Even before I work up the courage to say hi I’ve already named all four of our future children and narrowed down our settlements in the divorce.

Regardless of what my fate may hold, I’ve always had this strange perception of love. Like many queer-identifying individuals, I grew up in a heteronormative household with two parents who couldn’t have been more incompatible with one another. Though they tried, they did not succeed.

Being gay I never had an accurate or any representation of what a healthy same-sex monogamous relationship looked like. And today, I may have found that representation but it almost always comes with compromisation. It makes me wonder: if I value and aspire to one day have a monogamous relationship with someone, am I conforming to the implemented heterosexual experience? Or is my dramatic brain just grasping towards problematic territories again? Or is our indecisive behavior the culprit?

But to my heart, the ugly truth is that we’re still learning together. I’m constantly making mistakes that set myself back. I’ve often left boys on read and I’ve fallen for people who did not share mutual feelings, like a best friend from college.

However, these experiences haven’t been all bad. Just this past year, I met a queer person named Ang, who will probably be in my life for a long time, and I learned that I’m more than okay with having her as your chosen family. My older sister gave birth to a son and my sisters and I have never been closer because of that little guy’s laugh. Love has many facades. It can stem from mediums that aren’t necessarily all romantic or lustful. And as I continue to experience and learn I shouldn’t be fearful of the unknown but anticipate and be contempt for what’s to come.

I recently noticed my heart is the last entity I communicate with and I apologize. As mentioned earlier I often neglect my heart, and it shows. I even tried to freeze it just so it could be silenced because I undoubtingly mistook my vulnerability for weakness. I was jaded, ignorant, and insensitively thinking about what could be a powerful trait. My mission in life is to one day permanently silence that way of thinking, because it deserves a say.

Though I may not place it on my sleeve, I’ll cherish my heart and maybe other parties will cherish it for what it is.

3. My Dick

I’m just 22 and the odds that I’ll find the love of my life right now are slim. And unfortunately being human… specifically, being a man, I have inappropriate thoughts a good majority of the time.

I like sex and it’s something I’m good at… as simple as that.

I sometimes need to get a grip of myself… actually, I don’t because that’s what causes my problems in the first place. My biggest issue is that I can’t even be a proper hoe. Usually, when I try to participate in hook-up culture it just ends up causing more damage than pleasure. My one-night-stands end up being weekend getaways from reality because my emotionally vulnerable self can’t help but sleep with the wrong people. Even though I get off once… or twice…it’s honestly a struggle to find good dick without developing an emotional connection. I either find solace from men who are too old for me or men who are equally as vulnerable in a toot it and boot it situation.

Honestly, I feel that I’m attracted to the sad gays unintentionally. It’s my savior complex that kicks in. However, I’m only saving their prostates from being neglected. But I can’t just have that. I have to go the extra mile and actually have a moment that’s simply more than sex as if to prove I’m not the only sad gay living in a heteronormative world where we sometimes may feel out of place no matter how old we are.

Maybe the bottom line is, that I’m simply boy crazy.

I’m basically a Latinx Tina Belcher from “Bob’s Burgers.” I like a nice butt, enjoy a good zombie flick, and menudo. I’m constantly getting lust confused with love and are way too invested in moments that were simply just moments.

Maybe I’m not one to hook up with people right off the bat. Maybe I can’t turn off emotions when it comes to sex. And that’s okay! And it’s not terrible if you oblige to an occasional one-night-stand or two or three. I couldn’t live in a better time to be a proper hoe.

Based on my experiences, I’ve realized I just need to progressively learn and take the steps necessary in order for both parties to achieve satisfaction. There just needs to be communication.

Though a part of me would still want to engage in something more than just a moment, I need to distinguish whats simply temporary or what can potentially be long term. I realize thinking with my dick can get me in trouble. And I believe that a number of people could say the same to their genitalia as well.

While I can blame my head, heart, or my dick… by the end of the day, I am not going to be disillusionized by the fact that I am anywhere near better or knowledgeable at the age of 22. However, I will say that I know things know that I didn’t necessarily know before. And as I continue to make occasional mistakes, experience moments of unexplainable sadness, break a few hearts including my own — at the end of the day we are just living, learning, experiencing, and in some cases, thriving.