Tonight I'm a little depressed, but not the debilitating kind I'm used to. Last week was pretty shitty. I let Kendall film me while I was suicidal. Scary, not only did Kendall see me at one of the most vulnerable situations in my life, it is likely going to be many. I express some things that I have only said out loud three times in my life. The first time was during that intense panic attack in group, the second speaking with my sister. I'm afraid of the reaction of a particular few who witness it.
When I share words that express my true emotion to other people, the emotions become much more real. When I just tell myself these things I can reason the emotion away or simply ignore it. The following days became increasingly painful and unbearable. I had fight with the person who has been my biggest support. It wasn't an argument, but we were frustrated with each other. I stonewalled for a few days. I felt so alone, I moved up my "due" date to March 1.
Then there was the Provo Peace Forum. When I saw how dedicated Dr. Bradshaw was to his son, I cried. I wish I could feel that from my father. Dr. Bradshaw is dedicating an enormous amount of energy to educate, research, bring understanding to others who don't understand me and my fellow homosexuals. I just don't understand why I don't get to be the receiver of that love from a father.
Because I feel so much like a fuck up, I am terrified of loosing my family. I feel some of them slipping away just because of the gay thing. I have been trying to make up for being gay, but feel like I am failing at it. The pressure to perform is increasing and my ultimate failure becoming evident.
I needed a distraction, Hulu wasn't working. Exercise wasn't enough. I knew of two ways that would help. This first being drinking, but that would mean breaking the most important rule. The risk of severe complications would not be worth it. So that left me with eating. I gorged myself, I ate until I was sick. Once I didn't feel sick I would eat more.
Things started to turn around after visiting with a good friend. She gave me a lot to think about. She said things I need to hear. I've been told the exact things she said, but this time I think I was ready for it. Due to listening to a Mormon Stories podcast with Kendall, a million questions came to mind while listening. A letter from sister that was a bit harsh but full of love added to the flood of counsel and philosophies.
The combination of the pain, disappointment, binge eating, fighting, expressing, listening, hearing, contemplating and most importantly questioning has created a beautiful storm. When I say beautiful I mean it in the way that Matt Damon and Ryan Gosling are beautiful. When I say storm I mean a storm, caos, damage and possibly fire. It feels like the kind of storm that will bring peace at the end. I hope so, I really feel like I am on the verge of breakthrough that will push my life toward happiness. Time will tell.
Title: Song-Mystery Artist-Indigo Girls
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
My Arms are Crossed, My Hope is Lost
I just finished the movie 50/50. It was pretty good, a little sad, but ended positive. In this movie the main character gets a rare form of cancer at 27. While he is suffering, his girlfriend cheats on him, his mom is overbearing, and best friend is trying to handle the situation but struggles. His therapist wasn't much help. He worked at appeasing his friend, he broke up with his girlfriend and ignored his persistent mother.
At one point as the movie was building up to the climax the main character, Adam, said that he just wanted it to be over. Not necessarily life but the sickness. If death was the only way out then that was worth it. I have meet people in similar situations. It is not common to hear about people who suffering from a sickness. It is not easy to go through something that might end your life, especially when you want to continue living.
I relate to Adam in the sense that I just want it to be over. I don't care how, just when. My energy is drained. The unknown of the future keeps me up at night. It is not if I'm going to live, its who's going to be in my life. I'm not sure that many of the people who want to be will choose to be. I've been told for the third time that I am not suitable to be around someone's child.
There are people who say that they will love me no matter what. What does that love look like? I have friends that love me but won't let me be around their children. My father tells me he loves me, but treats as a lesser being. He has told me he loves me but he held a screwdriver to my face because I didn't close my door at night. He has punched me in the face, given me welts, hung me from a door nob. Is that what love looks like?
I am tired of being the source of pain, worry and stress. I'm tired of this "sickness." I wish I could take upon someone else's sickness, someone who could do more with their lives. It's like what that EMT told me once, that I am wasting my life. His wife is fighting cancer and I am waisting my life. I really wish I could do better, be better. It needs to end soon.
Title: Song-I am a Stone Artist-Libbie Linton
At one point as the movie was building up to the climax the main character, Adam, said that he just wanted it to be over. Not necessarily life but the sickness. If death was the only way out then that was worth it. I have meet people in similar situations. It is not common to hear about people who suffering from a sickness. It is not easy to go through something that might end your life, especially when you want to continue living.
I relate to Adam in the sense that I just want it to be over. I don't care how, just when. My energy is drained. The unknown of the future keeps me up at night. It is not if I'm going to live, its who's going to be in my life. I'm not sure that many of the people who want to be will choose to be. I've been told for the third time that I am not suitable to be around someone's child.
There are people who say that they will love me no matter what. What does that love look like? I have friends that love me but won't let me be around their children. My father tells me he loves me, but treats as a lesser being. He has told me he loves me but he held a screwdriver to my face because I didn't close my door at night. He has punched me in the face, given me welts, hung me from a door nob. Is that what love looks like?
I am tired of being the source of pain, worry and stress. I'm tired of this "sickness." I wish I could take upon someone else's sickness, someone who could do more with their lives. It's like what that EMT told me once, that I am wasting my life. His wife is fighting cancer and I am waisting my life. I really wish I could do better, be better. It needs to end soon.
Title: Song-I am a Stone Artist-Libbie Linton
Friday, February 3, 2012
If You Just Hold in Your Breath Till You Thought it Through You Foolish Child.
Last night there was a forum put on by the Provo peace forum about homosexuality and the church. A question was asked about how our straight allies can help make the church experience more comfortable for us gays. I didn't answer partly because a ton of people wanted to answer, but mostly I was not in an emotional state to be able to be the center of attention. I still want to answer it though, to the best of my ability.
First being trying to put yourself in a gay person's shoes. That might help you understand what comments and actions hurt. Generating empathy within yourselves in any situations makes it harder to judge others. In turn helps us to think more about what we say about others or a group of people.
To be more specific please refrain from comparing homosexuality to any other situation. I am defining situation as a sin, trial, complication, struggle, etc. It leaves too much room for hurt on our behalf. Even the ones like single sisters are asked to remain celibate so we should too. I understand that it might seem like a fair comparison and it wasn't meant to hurt. The truth is its painful for me in the right context. To me it shows the a lack of understanding. The important difference is hope, a single sister can always have hope that it can happen. A gay man like myself doesn't have such hope because it is forbidden. If you must compare us to another situation please also contrast by pointing out the differences.
My pain is partially self inflicted. By self inflicted I mean its in my head most of the time. I am extra sensitive to other people. I sometimes read too much into what a person says, how they say it, and what their actions are expressing. It could be because of the church, my father, peers or many other variables that have contributed to my toxic shame. I need my space from potential situations that cause me pain. That is why I have chosen to not wear my garments, I have chosen to only attend sacrament, remove myself from BYU housing and more.
I am not trying to change some else's stance on homosexuality in a moral sense. However I do want to change a person's stance politically. I want to change the way person views and treats those of us who do not fit into the church's model, whether the person in question wants to fit or not.
Maybe its offensive to say that I want to change another person but relax I can't. I don't know of a person who can. Its up to the individual to make the changes. I can help facilitate the change, but ultimately it is up to the individual.
Song: Genius Next Door-Regina Spektor
First being trying to put yourself in a gay person's shoes. That might help you understand what comments and actions hurt. Generating empathy within yourselves in any situations makes it harder to judge others. In turn helps us to think more about what we say about others or a group of people.
To be more specific please refrain from comparing homosexuality to any other situation. I am defining situation as a sin, trial, complication, struggle, etc. It leaves too much room for hurt on our behalf. Even the ones like single sisters are asked to remain celibate so we should too. I understand that it might seem like a fair comparison and it wasn't meant to hurt. The truth is its painful for me in the right context. To me it shows the a lack of understanding. The important difference is hope, a single sister can always have hope that it can happen. A gay man like myself doesn't have such hope because it is forbidden. If you must compare us to another situation please also contrast by pointing out the differences.
My pain is partially self inflicted. By self inflicted I mean its in my head most of the time. I am extra sensitive to other people. I sometimes read too much into what a person says, how they say it, and what their actions are expressing. It could be because of the church, my father, peers or many other variables that have contributed to my toxic shame. I need my space from potential situations that cause me pain. That is why I have chosen to not wear my garments, I have chosen to only attend sacrament, remove myself from BYU housing and more.
I am not trying to change some else's stance on homosexuality in a moral sense. However I do want to change a person's stance politically. I want to change the way person views and treats those of us who do not fit into the church's model, whether the person in question wants to fit or not.
Maybe its offensive to say that I want to change another person but relax I can't. I don't know of a person who can. Its up to the individual to make the changes. I can help facilitate the change, but ultimately it is up to the individual.
Song: Genius Next Door-Regina Spektor
Thursday, February 2, 2012
The Emptiness in this Soft Light
I learned along time ago that keeping painful secrets feed loneliness. I kept secrets my whole life to keep the perfect son facade legitimate. Obviously the big secret was that I am gay. However there were other big ones, I was lonely, depressed, hurt, and I hated myself.
Everyone would talk about how much energy I had. Even while I was seeing a therapist 3 times a week my roommates girlfriend thought I had such an incredible love for life. That is how I wanted people to know me, as a happy person who loved life.
A person who loves life is someone right with God. If someone knew I was unhappy they might find out that I was really a spun of satan because of my sexual affinity for men. Being gay is not what makes up a perfect son. I need to be a perfect son so I could be validated.
Other's knowing who I am would prevent myself from feeling my existence was justified. I was struggling just to keep up with the demands that were expected of me to prove my worthiness. Being open about my sexuality would drastically decrease the odds of achieving my goal.
So this facade created a loneliness that is deep. I don't quite understand it. I can be with a group of people who have expressed love for me but still feel alone and unknown. Maybe what I'm feeling is not properly labeled as loneliness. I think it is a combination of loneliness and worthlessness. I feel worthless so I isolate myself, then I feel lonely. My loneliness testifies of my unworthiness thus creating a vortex that is bound to carry a person to an emotional hell. Its that vortex that makes life so difficult, I can't seem to get out.
Everyone would talk about how much energy I had. Even while I was seeing a therapist 3 times a week my roommates girlfriend thought I had such an incredible love for life. That is how I wanted people to know me, as a happy person who loved life.
A person who loves life is someone right with God. If someone knew I was unhappy they might find out that I was really a spun of satan because of my sexual affinity for men. Being gay is not what makes up a perfect son. I need to be a perfect son so I could be validated.
Other's knowing who I am would prevent myself from feeling my existence was justified. I was struggling just to keep up with the demands that were expected of me to prove my worthiness. Being open about my sexuality would drastically decrease the odds of achieving my goal.
So this facade created a loneliness that is deep. I don't quite understand it. I can be with a group of people who have expressed love for me but still feel alone and unknown. Maybe what I'm feeling is not properly labeled as loneliness. I think it is a combination of loneliness and worthlessness. I feel worthless so I isolate myself, then I feel lonely. My loneliness testifies of my unworthiness thus creating a vortex that is bound to carry a person to an emotional hell. Its that vortex that makes life so difficult, I can't seem to get out.
Monday, January 30, 2012
It's Just That its Delicate
I've heard the story over and over. You were being set apart to be in Boy Scouts at church. You were told if you were faithful then you would be given a son. After six girls, I was born. No one at home believed that I was a boy. Mom had given up on having a boy and she had all the old girls clothes ready for me.
I imagine that you were so happy that you finally got what you wanted. I was a gift from God, an answer to your prayers. I don't know what its like to have a child or to wait for a son after so many girls. My imagination leads me to believe that it might have been one of your favorite moments. My presence meant that God was pleased with your service. That he wanted you to have me, he trusted you.
So when did I become not good enough. What is it about me that made you so angry? What could I have done differently? Was I too sensitive? Not boy enough for you? I honestly tried to make you proud. I worked hard to do things that would please you.
I knew you loved the church and very dedicated to it. I dedicated myself to the church in spite of the pain it caused me. I choose serving you as opposed to following what ever inclination I had. I've tried to reach out to you time and time again. I am left hurt.
Tommy came along and his existence seemed to be enough for you. You choose him over me many times over. Now Tommy is married, has a child. He is fulfilling your dreams for your family. I see how proud you are of him. I listen to the non verbal words you express when you speak of him. I see your eyes light up when you talk about your daughter in law. I can imagine what it'll be like when you come for my graduation and interact with Zach.
Tommy is the one you expected when God promised you a son. I know when you envisioned your future son that he would at the very least be straight. I tried to be. I wish I could. Maybe then when you speak of me your eyes would light up. I could give you a daughter in law and grandchildren. I have failed.
I imagine that you were so happy that you finally got what you wanted. I was a gift from God, an answer to your prayers. I don't know what its like to have a child or to wait for a son after so many girls. My imagination leads me to believe that it might have been one of your favorite moments. My presence meant that God was pleased with your service. That he wanted you to have me, he trusted you.
So when did I become not good enough. What is it about me that made you so angry? What could I have done differently? Was I too sensitive? Not boy enough for you? I honestly tried to make you proud. I worked hard to do things that would please you.
I knew you loved the church and very dedicated to it. I dedicated myself to the church in spite of the pain it caused me. I choose serving you as opposed to following what ever inclination I had. I've tried to reach out to you time and time again. I am left hurt.
Tommy came along and his existence seemed to be enough for you. You choose him over me many times over. Now Tommy is married, has a child. He is fulfilling your dreams for your family. I see how proud you are of him. I listen to the non verbal words you express when you speak of him. I see your eyes light up when you talk about your daughter in law. I can imagine what it'll be like when you come for my graduation and interact with Zach.
Tommy is the one you expected when God promised you a son. I know when you envisioned your future son that he would at the very least be straight. I tried to be. I wish I could. Maybe then when you speak of me your eyes would light up. I could give you a daughter in law and grandchildren. I have failed.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Sometimes Scars are Tracks
Tonight I'm thinking about a time when I took an ambulance ride to the hospital for a suicide attempt. While we were riding to the hospital and one of the EMTs was yelling at me. This man was yelling at me for attempting to take my life while his wife was fighting for hers. His wife had cancer and was afraid she wouldn't make it.
Immediately guilt came over me. I felt so bad for his wife. She had a husband who obviously cared for her, probably some children. I think he mentioned children but I don't remember everything that night. Any way, I remember thinking I wish that I could give her my life, as if time on earth was a tangible commodity. I wanted to explain myself to him, but just didn't have the energy. I felt like shit. I hated myself and didn't have the energy to fight with this EMT.
This man didn't understand the pain I was going through. He just added to it. I hated myself and wanted it over. This EMT just added to my pain. I wish I could have some words with this man. I want to know what the hell he was thinking. Why did he feel it was necessary to talk to me that way while in such a vulnerable state? I still feel like shit because of the things this man said. I hope that this was a some sort of tactic to see what state I was in, like when my first psychiatrist attacked my mother.
If by some one in a million chance this EMT reads this and know that it was him. Thanks for adding to the mountain of guilt in my life. I appreciate it really in the most sarcastic way possible. I still feel large amounts of guilt. Even though no matter what I would have done I wouldn't have been able to take your wife's cancer away. In my twisted fucked up mind I feel like if I kill myself, I also kill your wife. I didn't have enough reasons to feel like I was worthless.
Immediately guilt came over me. I felt so bad for his wife. She had a husband who obviously cared for her, probably some children. I think he mentioned children but I don't remember everything that night. Any way, I remember thinking I wish that I could give her my life, as if time on earth was a tangible commodity. I wanted to explain myself to him, but just didn't have the energy. I felt like shit. I hated myself and didn't have the energy to fight with this EMT.
This man didn't understand the pain I was going through. He just added to it. I hated myself and wanted it over. This EMT just added to my pain. I wish I could have some words with this man. I want to know what the hell he was thinking. Why did he feel it was necessary to talk to me that way while in such a vulnerable state? I still feel like shit because of the things this man said. I hope that this was a some sort of tactic to see what state I was in, like when my first psychiatrist attacked my mother.
If by some one in a million chance this EMT reads this and know that it was him. Thanks for adding to the mountain of guilt in my life. I appreciate it really in the most sarcastic way possible. I still feel large amounts of guilt. Even though no matter what I would have done I wouldn't have been able to take your wife's cancer away. In my twisted fucked up mind I feel like if I kill myself, I also kill your wife. I didn't have enough reasons to feel like I was worthless.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Just a Sad Song With Nothing to Say
Whats going on in my life, nothing and everything at the same time. While that is contradictory nothing is going on because I don't really do anything, but in my frontal lobe everything is happening. I was initially feeling a lot better after graduating and being done with the tyranny of BYU. Not having a job is not helpful to my emotional wellbeing.
I'll start with the nothing. I don't have a job, I don't have school, and I don't have a social life. I am searching for a job and admittedly not hard enough. My insecurities and fear are feeding the anxiety. So I watch dumb stuff online and go to the gym. My social life... huff. Well I can only be mad at my self for being so fucking shy! I could blame it on the fact that my social life always revolved around school and church and now I don't have that. However, I still have USGA and when I go I freeze up and want to be left into a corner and just listen. I barely made it last night. There are people who have reached out and tried to get me to break out my shell. They invite me to do things, talk to me, engage me at a party when I'm completely silent. I tried but for whatever reason I can't seem to relax. So here's my apology to them. Out of privacy I will re-frian from using your names, but sorry I'm borring as hell. Maybe one day when I gain a little more confidence I can be fun again. You guys are great. I understand know wants to be around the boring, sad man.
As for everything, I got into a little bit. I hate myself, I don't understand how people get past the guilt and the shame. I hear stories over and over again about people who say the just let it go. DAMN IT! How they hell did you do that? I want to so bad. I look at other gay guys and they look good. They have these nice bodies, great smiles, etc. I know I look great for where I have been, but I am flabby. I'm probably being too superficial, but I am attracted to a guy who is muscular. I love big biceps, I love abs, I love good chest. So I need to be the person I want to date. But I can't seem to control this binging. I just want to eat and eat all the time. I need to get back to meeting with a therapist, maybe group again, and I need to take social risks. To my past therapist who might be reading this you are just going to get over my language of "I need, " but to please you enjoy the next dialogue.
It would be nice to be able to go to USGA and be sociable. I would prefer to go to a party and be good company. I can't do any more of this non definitive language.
So to conclude on a positive note. Today I hope to get to some things accomplished. I would like to call those numbers I was given to ensure that I can continue on the Wellbutrin and get a new counselor. I hope to get a good work out in. Get my marker board make a plan and pound that pavement in search of a job. If any of you feel the need to text this lonely sad sack, feel free. I'm probably at the gym or catching up on last night comedy line up.
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