By Daniel Batalla

Daily Titan Columnist

“Sometimes I just want to jump. I want to find a building and jump,” I wrote in my journal. “ … leaving my problems behind me with my solution below me, I just want my real life to begin.”

I’ve always thought writing to be therapeutic. It gives me the clarity I need to express myself.

In high school, like most other adolescents, I kept a journal. My journal was my outlet for the frustrations of growing up gay in a traditional Catholic household.

Though I wouldn’t have admitted it then, I now realize how incredibly alone I felt during my teen years despite the friends I had in school.

I was usually surrounded by people during lunch; I was never treated like a social outcast, and people didn’t stare or point at me as I walked down the halls.

However, that was due mostly in part because I spoke of how much I loved women every opportunity I was given.

I covered my binders with pictures of J.Lo and taped magazine clippings of Gwen Stefani all over my locker.

But once I got home, I would pour myself into my writing.

In my journal I would be careful to avoid the “G” word for fear that someone would find it and discover my hidden secret.

Though, every now and then I would allude to my suppressed feelings of sexual confusion. On some level I thought it would be easier to be outed than have to out myself.

At the time I thought I was the only person dealing with these issues, but as a 20-something, I now know that millions of teens share those same feelings of anxiety, frustration and grief.

True, heterosexual teens have a hard time dealing with the pressures of adolescence as well, but gay teens have to deal with all the same issues as well as those of staying closeted.

There wasn’t anyone I felt comfortable enough with, at the time, to discuss my feelings of confusion.

Today, I’m ashamed I didn’t give the people in my life the benefit of the doubt.

As it turned out I was the only one holding me back from a life of happiness. It took years for me to openly accept myself as gay.

But it really would have helped me to be able to speak to someone, anyone, about the issues I faced regarding my sexuality.

The Trevor Project was established in 1998 as the first American suicide prevention hotline for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered and questioning youths.

On hand 24 hours a day are trained counselors who provide guidance and, more importantly, confidential services to LGBTQ youths.

Whereas in high school I had my journals and feelings of solitude, the Trevor Project has given today’s youth another way for them to speak openly and honestly about their sexuality without fear of ridicule.

It’s hard to say whether or not I would have called the hotline in high school because calling would have meant I’d have to admit that I was gay in the first place.

I don’t think I was ready for the admission.

Back then, I was still trying my hardest to suppress sexual feelings for my history teacher and swim coach.

I was more afraid of being found out rather than allowing someone

to help me on my own path to acceptance.

The Trevor Project gives young people an opportunity to vent, to question and to speak to someone who can identify with them.

I don’t think, even in my darkest days, I would have ever taken my own life.

I thought about it probably more than I should have, but having seen first hand what suicide does to a family, I would never, and could never, put my family through that again.

Suicide is a permanent solution for a temporary problem.

Organizations like the Trevor Project make it possible to push through the tough times and come out with a positive outlook on life.

I’m in a much happier place in my life now.

No more moody entries in my journals and no more thoughts of suicide.

Who would have thought that there is more to life than just high school?

Trevor Project Hotline: 1-866-4-U-TREVOR