The Thoughts of a Fool

I wish I wasn't writing this but I feel I must. I think it's high time I discuss some of the other issues that I struggle with. I call it sorrow because I haven't been diagnosed with depression or anything (just General Anxiety Disorder). When I was a sophomore/junior in high school, I unfortunately began to perform self-mutilation on myself. I didn't use a razor or a knife (thought about it) but used a pencil because it was discreet. My parents never found out about it and I eventually managed to overcome my need for it by finding healthier ways to work through my problems.

I appears I haven't learned my lesson.

Unfortunately, after 5-6 years I have cut myself again. As I sit on the computer there are four angry red slashes across my right forearm. I cried and I cried today feeling like an utter failure (these feelings have not passed). It frightens me to the point that I don't know what to do. I feel utterly and completely lost and I feel like no one even notices.

It seems like unless I make a sound I am forgotten and not even needed. But enough on that. Unfortunately, there is something else that haunts me now. Over the past six-seven months, the usual suicide thoughts that came about once or twice every few months (or even a year) have become more frequent to the point of occurring several times a week. I feel emotionally taxed already alongside a bad ability to handle stress, worn out from constant school work and just working to find ways to solve my financial situation. I believe that the suicide thoughts are still at the stage of harmless but are alarming nonetheless.

I don't know what to do. I need help. But it feels like everything in my life is just falling apart...and I can't seem to stop it. I'm terrified that if this isn't crisis mode yet that I won't be able to handle crisis mode.

I apologize for these remarks. I feel like such an utter failure.

Recognition

Honesty has more concrete definitions to it then the vague notion of simply following "the truth." Honesty, in my opinion and especially in my efforts with what is going on in my life, means not accepting the shallow answers but making an effort to dig deeper and not settle down until I believe that I have reached a reasonable conclusion on a particular answer. It means that I let go of preconceived notions on what is right and wrong and instead approach it from the lens of both science and religion. It means, ultimately, trusting that there are truthful answers out there that will better my life and that those answers will likely come from the most unlikely of places.

I drifted away from this sense of home for many reasons, among them the reason of believing that I no longer felt attachment to the same beliefs professed earlier by myself. If I am to ever to find where I belong, a home, I must accept that my current beliefs may have faults and that I am not immune to correction. I can rise above the issues that plague me currently. I have managed to achieve a willingness to accept that they do exist and that I have the power to alter them for my benefit and improvement.

Responsibility. Joy. Hope. Understanding. Knowledge. Conviction. Willpower. Courage. Optimism. These are all traits I need to garner and improve. But in so doing I cannot believe that I must shift my emphasis away from religion and being gay. Determining what those mean in my life and how I will approach them will do far more to affect the traits I seek then an effort in cultivation of traits.

This, I think, is the first entry I have written that has a strong vein of hope running through it. But I know that it will not be easier. I have failed so many, many times before this and may well likely fail again. But this desire within to change grows stronger every passing moment. My choice to act on it each time seems to only make me stronger and more able to resist again and again after each failed attempt. The failure shrinks. The sting of the backward slide decreases while the determination to try again grows stronger.

I recognize this now.

Stirrings

I have been delaying this post on my religion because I haven't been quite sure how to write it. But now I feel as though I know how to proceed in this. This heart of mine yearns to find release from the troubles that I have permitted to come upon it. The one major concern that obstructs progress forward, though, is the lack of knowing where or how to proceed. I realize this is due to some of my religious questionings that have gone on as of late in my head.

But even knowing this does not alleviate the stress and the feelings of confusion and loss that fill my soul to the brim in frustration and even bitterness. I become angry for no real rational reason when I hear from the mouths of others just how at peace they are with their faith. In their words I hear the conviction of blind faith and unchallenged beliefs. I believe I pity them but I realize that I envy their simplicity and their ease at living their life without wondering and pondering over their religious opinions. When it comes to religious conversions I take strength and comfort in the stories of Alma and his son as well as of Paul. Knowing that some of the Lord's most valiant and powerful ministers were men who had at one time questioned or even been rebellious against the faith gives me hope and understanding that I am not doing wrong.

I do admit that I have been lazy and inattentive in my efforts to resolve the issues that I have. But I'm trying to change that now in an effort to solve the problems that plague me and leave me reeling in a sense of loss and emptiness. I do so with the hope that I can discover just where my home is: where I belong. At the moment I am still at a loss and even arguably at square one in all of this.

I want to change that.

I have noticed that whenever I speak or write on religion or my religious views that they are inevitably connected with some desire of mine to improve, grow, and become better. Coincidence? More like habit from when I was a teenager. Not so surprising, as well, is the slow enmeshing of my religious views and beliefs with being gay.

Religion is something I value highly and I realize something that touches on all aspects of my life even when I am not actively involved in my church or faith. Something deep within stirs in response to the belief in the divine. It is that stirring that I feel within that has led me to identify that religion and being gay are the two most powerful stresses in my life. They alone dominate and tip the scale of stress that sends me spiraling into depression and feelings of no self-worth (more on that at a later time).

Strange? Well, I believe that I have not adequately considered the question of religion properly in my life. I also have not considered the question of being gay in my life either. So I realize that my first steps towards improvement must lie in that. Then, and only then, when I feel that I have reached steadier ground and my soul isn't drowning in fears of stress and suicidal desires, can I reasonably address the next step in my relationship with God and the feelings that were placed within my mind, heart, soul, and body.

Living For

I'm writing this before I start my homework. I'm a little frustrated with my roommates but I'll write on that another post. I wanted to write about something else that was weighing heavily on my mind.

What am I living for?

Currently I am alone. I have allowed local friendships shrink away in the name of homework and classwork. Ever since the start of last semester my stress level has been off the charts. In the name of homework and classwork (or perhaps in the name of something else) I experienced a major increase in suicidal thoughts and an increase in their intensity as well as even attempting to hurt myself for the first time in over five years. I have become plagued with reoccurring depression. I have begun to experience headaches for the first time in my life and now become nauseous over some of the strangest things whereas before they had never bothered me. And, ironically, I feel like I barely survived in my classes the previous semester.

So what, then, am I living for? Am I living for love? I don't even know what that is. How about friends? No, I have abandoned them and have avoided truly cultivating any in the meantime. Well, what about myself? Narcissism really isn't me.

I have a friend, named Sunny Llama, that has the most adorable dog in the world! That dog literally loves making people happy. It's virtually impossible not to love that dog! I can understand the need to have an animal. I honestly think I would get a pet too but my apartment complex frowns on the owning of pets. I can't blame them either. Plus, I'm so poor.

What joy is there in my life? At the moment I find it extremely helpful to write this all out on my blog. It gives me a chance to air out these feelings of pain and loneliness. I feel as though I can release some of the negative emotions that are building up within. In short, I feel lighter when I dump these negative feelings on the Internet.

I know I shouldn't complain. Honestly, I am lucky and fortunate to be where I am. But thinking that only just adds to my feelings of being pathetic and increasing the slowly growing desire to die.

But, for those that care, I still think I'm at low risk of actually going through with committing suicide.

What God Designed

Being a gay Mormon is a strange mix. I am the one that when people talk about me they say, "Oh he is? Well, isn't that sad" or "I thought he would have done better." Well, something along those lines. I don't mean to request for pity at my lot in life. I am just adding another entry in an effort to learn how to come "home" even if that home means building a new one.

I have known since I was about twelve that I was gay but it wasn't until I was fourteen and sixteen that I came under the believe that I was somehow this ugly, abominable creation of God. I had no thought in me until the age of fourteen that there could be anything wrong with how I felt towards other guys. After all, I had feelings for both guys and girls. I just had crushes on guys a hundred times more then on girls.

When I came under the false belief that I was some abomination, life become dark and gloomy. To avoid darkening this post anymore then necessary I will summarize my activities. I engaged in self-hatred that took the form of low-level suicidal thoughts and active self-mutilation along with a generic attitude of self-loathing. When I look back upon those years, I am saddened that I had ever thought that hatred could change anything. I allowed religion, psychology, and political opinion to become twisted by my own fears and anxieties which those aspects in turn amplified my fears and anxieties to an unhealthy level. The tears of despair were innumerable and the feelings of pain over my attractions were truly unnecessary. So much wasted energy was spent in an attempt to "fix" or "cure" what God had never designed to be removed from its proper place: the soul.

I realized during my senior year of high school how terribly wrong I was. That single realization undid years of pain and self-hatred. It would take, though, another couple of years to fully undo the damage I had managed to do in my views.

Now here I am, realizing that more of my previously held views from high school concerning the nature of my soul were wrong. I have damaged and perhaps even retarded my ability to grow and improve. The sense of loss and bitterness over such a realization is inexpressible. I find that I am nearly at the point of square one and I realize now, more then ever, that I am wrong again on how things really are in life.

Anger, sorrow, bitterness, despair, hope, joy, loss, confusion, exhaustion, and curiosity somehow have managed to merge together despite their clear and obvious differences. I use to think that any issues I had with my attractions had been laid to rest months ago. I was happy and content with being gay. But after a conversation with the psychiatrist, I am left to wonder if I have been attempting to look the other way as I continued to twist and warp the very fabric of my soul in unhealthy and damaging ways.

Perhaps, ultimately, the only way I will ever anchor my soul is to reexamine just how I am handling things especially on this subject and to let things go and to embrace other things. The vagueness of the previous sentence should be revealing to the feeling of loss over how to even begin in this. I just wish I knew the path to proceed down, but I'm afraid that there is no path already made for me to walk down.

Heaven Only Knows

I have no home here in the shadow of the mountains. Though the rocky features are certainly inspiring and moving, there is nothing that anchors me to this spot beyond going to school. I feel no deep connection to the people here and no deep connection to the culture that exists in the valleys beyond similarities in how we were raised (standards and such). My heart seems to wander about like some phantom silently moving about in search of something that perhaps never was or can be.

When I walk on campus I am reminded of things I feel that are denied to me on several levels. The happiness of others is something that I envy not because I am forbidden it (though that is a subject for another entry), but because I feel a sense of loss. With no anchor I am adrift socially, spiritually, and emotionally. The words of others seem to slide off me without leaving too much of a mark. A casual smile on my part leaves no commitment in others to engage in warmer relations with me. But such a hope on my part is small and nigh unto being extinguished.

I use to walk down the paths of my school and the streets beyond campus feeling as though a weight were pressing me down. It felt like too much effort to smile or even to reach out and engage in social interactions with my peers. But I realized that such an attitude on my part was unhealthy and it led me to talking with the psychologist. Yet sterile conversation holds no joy for me beyond the hope of finding the right and helpful coping mechanisms that can assist me in moving beyond this shadowed, homeless living.

I am lost and adrift upon this sea of uncertainty known as life. But even more painful and hurtful in all of this: I am alone. And that is something that gnaws at me and leaves me to wonder if in all my efforts to work through my "problems," it is worth it. Can a healthy mind with no one to engage in on a deeper level truly be worth the effort or am I just kidding myself? Heaven only knows.

Of Snow and Religion

The torrential snowfall of the past 24+ hours came to an end earlier this day (finally). With its passing, the sun came out and proceeded to promptly melt the snow on the ground and on the streets (which are now iced over). I went out earlier this evening to walk among the snow. I'll confess, it did sparkle and glitter under the light of stars, moon, and city lights. As quaint as snow is, though, I am not much of a fan of it just for the simple fact that I find it an inconvenience. It is wet, cold, and feel oppressive in its blanketing of the landscape beneath a single solitary color of pure white. It muffles sound and turns a good deal of people back into their houses. The neighborhoods and parks become quiet and I am left to wander in a ghost-like world. My apologies to all those lovers of snow whatever those reasons may be. I just don't have it in me to find that beauty that others see in frozen, crystallized water.

The reason behind my walk in this winter "wonderland" was to go visit the bishop (I'm Mormon) of my ward or congregation. I went to visit the bishop at his request and had the usual "who are you?" kind of conversations. Having grown up all my life as a Mormon (I'm not from Utah, thank you very much), I have become used to the questions that bishops ask (not that much different from a psychologist or a friendly get together with newly arrived neighbors or roommates). There were the crucial questions such as name, town of origin, what I am studying at school, and what do I plan to do with myself after schooling comes to an end. All important facts for certain.

But I have long grown weary of this surface level type of interaction that it seems that I have engaged in and find sufficient in my daily comings and goings. I realize that I let my relationships with many people that I meet now a days exist on a shallow level. So continuing on, the bishop had his agenda for meeting with me and I had mine for meeting with him. After some discussion I quickly broached the subject of discussing some of the religious questions I had. While I consider myself a faithful Mormon, I also have questions that I find necessary to answer and, in which, level me deeply curious and desirous to have answered. But to avoid handing out boring details (maybe later...) I'll keep this story short and to the point. The bishop and I agreed to meet on a weekly basis for now to discuss my questions and to help me out in accomplishing some of the goals that I have out.

I used to be cynical of meeting with counselors, psychologists, and bishops to discuss my "problems." It always felt like I was wasting my time and that I could deal with my "problems" by myself. But I have come to accept that the problems or concerns that I have require assistance from someone that is plainly not me. That mainly comes from the circumstance that I use to fear some of the very thoughts that would go round in my own head. I reached a conclusion some months back that a person should not be afraid of their own thoughts and that partially led to where I am at at this point in my life.

I wish I had some funny anecdote to share but I have none at this time. Yet I do write poetry a lot, (not real sure if it's good or not) and may post some now and then on this blog. I put a lot of my poetry on my Facebook page but I will put some on here. Poetry has allowed me to express the emotions and thoughts that have been going on in my head as of lately and I find that therapeutic.

Where I Stand

When choosing to write this, I considered several options: some teasing and some rather bland and probably uninteresting. I can only hope this appears to be interesting to more then just me. Now before I go forward, I believe an introduction is somewhat necessary before this journey even begins.

I have a reason for writing this blog (not that great of a surprise, I would imagine): to better understand who I am. Over the past two years I feel like I have become detached from who I am and become awash in tedious schooling and unhealthy habits. Imagine being put in a cage that is just tall enough to prevent you from standing fully erect and only just so wide as to not allow you to stretch your legs out fully and that is how I feel my life has become.

In some ways I feel trapped and pressed down by stress and the responsibilities that others have placed on me. Much like weeds that slowly strangle the flower from the required nutrients to sustain life. At the same time, others are not to blame for my current situation. To blame others would be a sad and foolish move on my part. Much of my current situation is the result of choices I have made (or avoided making). And now I am living the consequences of past decisions made and therefore, in many cases, have only myself to blame.

But I believe there is an escape: an escape from the labels and the traps I have fallen into; a way to correct past decisions by making proper and right decisions now that benefit me and not harm me. I see a way to escape and to step beyond what I currently am: small and insignificant. I want to become more then that but not necessarily in the form of having fame, power, or money. I just want to be more honest in my expressions.

Yes, honesty.

For I feel I am far from home and that is something no person should experience for long periods of time. I haven't felt like I was truly at home for over four years now; lost and adrift. So this blog serves as the purpose of trying to rediscover who I am and coming out of this rather small and pathetic "me."

Join me on this. Don't join me. I will make the journey regardless but certainly wouldn't say no to bystanders and observers.