While playing a game the other day, another player dealt me a pretty nasty blow, that left me in a rather crippled position. Rather than stick it out to see if I could still somehow manage to scrape through the game, I opted to leave at that moment, mostly because I wasn't enjoying the game all that much (being behind in a game can make me irritable at times). At the time, I thought of how manly I was at speaking my mind and cutting my losses. Afterward, I felt very guilty for leaving the game the way I did (in a huff). Somehow, it made me feel like how I approach life: if things get difficult, there's a good chance I'm going to simply give up on the thing, even if it's something good for me. Friend gets married, I give up. Too hard to continue interacting with them. Friend moves away. Give up. Too hard.
I'm saying this, because I feel like I've 'given up' in a sense on my healing journey. I'm exhausted. I'm worn out. I regularly engage in numbing and isolating behavior I build emotional walls between me and the people I spend time with. Two years ago and two months, I went to Journey Into Manhood. I was regularly talking with people. I had a good friendship with another man forming. I was participating in a community, reaching out to other men. Giving, growing, and learning. I was connecting and getting my male to male needs met. I was even starting to feel sparks of attraction toward a girl I've known since elementary school.
Fast forward a year. I was barely even talking to this friend. I had deeply distanced myself from him. I was slipping into depression. I had given up on our friendship because it had become very difficult and painful for me (I was overdependent on him). Fast forward another year. I came close to acting out with a good friend of mine. I acted out with four other times with men. I nearly gave up going to church multiple times. My depression worsened and I started taking medication. I grew very isolated. I've become bitter. My same gender attraction has become very strong. I feel a sense of shame as I compulsively check out people to see if they are attractive. I struggle daily with inappropriate thoughts that are highly distracting. In short, I almost feel like I've given up.
On a surface level, I try to look confident, as un-needy as possible. I try to appear aloof. I often get snappy. I'm nearly always tired. Inside, I just want to cry, or act out, or have the nearest object of my lust hold me and help me feel loved. Guilt and shame seem to be with me nearly every waking moment. I struggle with feeling connected.
I feel like I'm stuck between two choices: continue to resist (and struggle with acting out), or simply give in. Honestly, the latter is highly undesirable. I know there is at least one more choice: open up. Start to connect again and let the wounds heal. Forgive, and let the poison seep out. It...it feels very difficult to open up. Two years ago, it was very natural, if scary for me. Now, it is so terrifying I clam up at the thought of doing it.
On the bright side, I've also felt a stirring in my breast. I've felt the Spirit working on me. I've had moments where my selfishness abates and I feel genuine pain, empathy, and caring toward other people.
It means I haven't quite given up yet, despite how hard the journey is. Still, I'm afraid of opening up and being vulnerable. Almost mortally afraid. I know it can hurt again.
Showing posts with label Fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fear. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Hey Could You...
As a brief personal update, things have been going alright for me. I participated in a very enjoyable beta test for the game Guild Wars 2, and I've been enjoying playing Diablo III. I've also had some fun playing the XBox 360 version of Minecraft (you can see some of my musings on the game here). I've been finding that I'm still experience some anger over some things that happened a few months ago. I feel frustrated when people ask me about dating or when family ask me about girls I know. I still have feelings of being misunderstood. I have been experiencing some loneliness, but it's not nearly as intense as it has been in the past. I had an excellent birthday party with parents and friends. We played a lot of Magic. It was a blast. And oddly, the song from this post keeps running through my head.
Also, I've been become more keenly aware of how often I find myself "checking out" the men around me. I feel an odd mixture of disgust and fear about it. Sometimes I'm able to tell myself "Hey, this is a co-worker, you shouldn't be looking at them like that!". Other times I feel ashamed about it, and I'm afraid that the person will know what I'm doing. Part of the reason is that I somehow want to connect with the other man. I want to feel his equal, or I want his affection/attention/love. I try to tell myself that "I am a man too". I've found that the idea that I am "less than" a man has crept back into my thoughts and it definitely is influencing my behavior.
So, I don't think I've touched on this topic before, but I have a deep fear of being asked to do things. I recently received a new calling to teach in my Elder's Quorum on the second Sunday's. I was terrified to accept. When I did it, the experience was very enjoyable. Many times I've been asked to speak in church, and I've always been terrified. Although I shake like crazy when I do it, most of the talks come out alright. I've been asked to participate in a number of other blogs, and I always feel that fear of 'Will I do a good enough job?' or 'Will people like me?'. Yesterday, a member of the bishopric called me up and asked me to speak this Sunday in church. Immediately, my mind raced about how unworthy I was and my body broke out into a cold sweat. After a few moments of brain lock, my mind finally started working and I said yes. I've been dreading the speaking assignment ever since (it hasn't even been 24 hours!). I guess I suffer from performance anxiety. I feel like I have to do an excellent job at what I do. Or I just don't like that many people watching me at once.
Oh well, I'll survive.
Also, I've been become more keenly aware of how often I find myself "checking out" the men around me. I feel an odd mixture of disgust and fear about it. Sometimes I'm able to tell myself "Hey, this is a co-worker, you shouldn't be looking at them like that!". Other times I feel ashamed about it, and I'm afraid that the person will know what I'm doing. Part of the reason is that I somehow want to connect with the other man. I want to feel his equal, or I want his affection/attention/love. I try to tell myself that "I am a man too". I've found that the idea that I am "less than" a man has crept back into my thoughts and it definitely is influencing my behavior.
So, I don't think I've touched on this topic before, but I have a deep fear of being asked to do things. I recently received a new calling to teach in my Elder's Quorum on the second Sunday's. I was terrified to accept. When I did it, the experience was very enjoyable. Many times I've been asked to speak in church, and I've always been terrified. Although I shake like crazy when I do it, most of the talks come out alright. I've been asked to participate in a number of other blogs, and I always feel that fear of 'Will I do a good enough job?' or 'Will people like me?'. Yesterday, a member of the bishopric called me up and asked me to speak this Sunday in church. Immediately, my mind raced about how unworthy I was and my body broke out into a cold sweat. After a few moments of brain lock, my mind finally started working and I said yes. I've been dreading the speaking assignment ever since (it hasn't even been 24 hours!). I guess I suffer from performance anxiety. I feel like I have to do an excellent job at what I do. Or I just don't like that many people watching me at once.
Oh well, I'll survive.
Friday, June 1, 2012
If You Only Knew
Just as a disclaimer, this post is more referring to my thoughts. It isn't directed toward any one particular person. In fact, it's more directed toward many different people. Mostly, it's me just venting things that come on my mind that I feel like giving a voice.
****
If you only knew what went on inside my head. What if you knew that I was attracted to you? What if you knew that my eyes tended to wander to you? What if you knew that I liked how you look? What would you do? Would you shun me? Reject me? Be afraid and awkward around me? How I wish at times that I could just touch you and not feel uncomfortable about it, to reach out and connect and not accuse myself of acting on lust. You may never know how good it is to see you smile at me. You may never know how I felt that time you randomly came up and rubbed my shoulder, or patted me on the back. You may never know how enamored I became with you, or how secretly obsessed I became with you. If you did know, would you still act the same around me? What if you knew I wanted to hug you? Or that I enjoyed the feel of your arms around me?
If you only knew, how I felt with you around. How afraid I was because of the feelings I had for you. Or how little I cared for what you were saying, or even for you. How afraid I feel that you would found out how little I really cared for you. Or how sad I was that we couldn't connect. Or sometimes the wild fantasies I have with you in them. Or how many times I wondered what you looked like without a shirt on. Or how hesitant I am to spend time with you because of how attracted I feel for you. Or how many times I questioned if I was trying to be my friend because I liked you or because I "liked" you.
If you only knew how I felt the last time I saw you. The shock at seeing you, the grief, the fear, the rage. How I watched you to avoid you. How I felt the piercing anger of your glare. How distraught I felt afterward. How much seeing you remind me of my past and how manipulative I've been in the past and my fear that I continue to live and breathe the same lies that have cloaked from so early in my life.
If you only knew how misunderstood I felt, or the pain I've felt. Or how many times I've let my unrealistic expectations get dashed. Or how many times I haven't cared. Or how many times I've cried over you, or over me wanting to connect with you. Or how many times I've felt like shaking my fist at the heavens only to find the finger of blame to be pointing at me.
I don't know if I could ever explain in words how much it means when you contact me or talk to me. The little inside jokes. The ability to say and act how I feel is right. Understanding when I feel down. If you only knew how much more I wish I could spend time with you or talk to you.
If you only knew.
****
Thanks for reading!
****
If you only knew what went on inside my head. What if you knew that I was attracted to you? What if you knew that my eyes tended to wander to you? What if you knew that I liked how you look? What would you do? Would you shun me? Reject me? Be afraid and awkward around me? How I wish at times that I could just touch you and not feel uncomfortable about it, to reach out and connect and not accuse myself of acting on lust. You may never know how good it is to see you smile at me. You may never know how I felt that time you randomly came up and rubbed my shoulder, or patted me on the back. You may never know how enamored I became with you, or how secretly obsessed I became with you. If you did know, would you still act the same around me? What if you knew I wanted to hug you? Or that I enjoyed the feel of your arms around me?
If you only knew, how I felt with you around. How afraid I was because of the feelings I had for you. Or how little I cared for what you were saying, or even for you. How afraid I feel that you would found out how little I really cared for you. Or how sad I was that we couldn't connect. Or sometimes the wild fantasies I have with you in them. Or how many times I wondered what you looked like without a shirt on. Or how hesitant I am to spend time with you because of how attracted I feel for you. Or how many times I questioned if I was trying to be my friend because I liked you or because I "liked" you.
If you only knew how I felt the last time I saw you. The shock at seeing you, the grief, the fear, the rage. How I watched you to avoid you. How I felt the piercing anger of your glare. How distraught I felt afterward. How much seeing you remind me of my past and how manipulative I've been in the past and my fear that I continue to live and breathe the same lies that have cloaked from so early in my life.
If you only knew how misunderstood I felt, or the pain I've felt. Or how many times I've let my unrealistic expectations get dashed. Or how many times I haven't cared. Or how many times I've cried over you, or over me wanting to connect with you. Or how many times I've felt like shaking my fist at the heavens only to find the finger of blame to be pointing at me.
I don't know if I could ever explain in words how much it means when you contact me or talk to me. The little inside jokes. The ability to say and act how I feel is right. Understanding when I feel down. If you only knew how much more I wish I could spend time with you or talk to you.
If you only knew.
****
Thanks for reading!
Monday, February 20, 2012
Worries - 20Feb2012
Worry is quite the interesting beast. He's been paying me visit very often lately. There's been a number of things that I've been worried about. It feels like I have a huge long list of things that have been on my mind lately.
1) I'm worried that I'm in some sort of deep numbness. I've been actually received some healthy touch lately, and I noticed it hasn't felt quite the same way. It's almost like I'm walled off against it. I know I may have some unprocessed trauma around it. It isn't something I'm willing to post up here in public. Part of this worry is that I know touch is a very important thing for me. I still feel like I want it, yet it doesn't seem to help when I do get it.
2) Related to item 1, I noticed that my emotions have been very muted lately, especially ones related to bonding and connection with other people: feeling loved, happiness, peace. I have felt some strong feelings of happiness, peace, and anger. Sadness seems to be oddly absent. I think the last time few times I remember feeling strong emotions was at the therapist and when I was at the temple. This could possibly be a by-product of being sick. Or it could just be a pattern of me detaching from myself.
3) The big worry in my sights right now is a medical test that I am having this week. I can't remember if I posted about the chest pains I've had while working out, or sometimes even while resting. I performed a heart stress test, and my heart is fine. The doctor said it was probably heartburn, so I've been taking a medication for that. Still, the pain has persisted, along with other strange things. I can feel food get 'stuck' in my esophagus. Sometimes my throat will seize up, or go into painful spasms. So, I'm going to get an EGD.
An EGD, or esophagogastroduodenoscopy, is basically where they stick a camera down the person's thraot. I've never had one before, but I've had plenty of horrifying fantasies about it since I first heard of it. I was feeling very nervous and terrified when I first heard about it. Oddly, it's isn't so bad since I learned they will put me under some form of anesthesia. The big worry about it now is paying for it. I don't have money problems frequently, but when I do, it usually causes me to panic. Oddly, I feel very detached from the feeling of panic, but I still find myself trying to calculate how much the procedure will cost and how I'm going to pay for it.
4) On top of all of this, I keep finding myself engaged in what I call 'deviant' behavior. It can be anything from fantasizing about a man, obsessing over them, finding myself looking for triggering pictures, avoiding people that I feel attracted to, or trying to hide myself from the world. It's basically a set of unhealthy behaviors that lead me to not feeling connected with the people around me. This deviant behavior is paired with an obsession over friendship and not feeling like I'm close to anyone.
When I take an honest look, I think all of these things I'm worried about are connected. The fear and worry over the procedure could be shorting out my feelings. That makes me feel like I'm not close to anyone, and leads me to seek that out. Because my feelings aren't working properly, I don't feel like I'm connected and I'm driven to the unhealthy behaviors to try to feel something. Sadly, I'm not quite sure how to break out of the cycle. Thankfully, I have a visit with my therapist tomorrow. Hopefully he can help me sort out parts of it.
I would also appreciate your prayers for the procedure this Wednesday. I'm going to need all the help and assurance I can get. Thank you.
1) I'm worried that I'm in some sort of deep numbness. I've been actually received some healthy touch lately, and I noticed it hasn't felt quite the same way. It's almost like I'm walled off against it. I know I may have some unprocessed trauma around it. It isn't something I'm willing to post up here in public. Part of this worry is that I know touch is a very important thing for me. I still feel like I want it, yet it doesn't seem to help when I do get it.
2) Related to item 1, I noticed that my emotions have been very muted lately, especially ones related to bonding and connection with other people: feeling loved, happiness, peace. I have felt some strong feelings of happiness, peace, and anger. Sadness seems to be oddly absent. I think the last time few times I remember feeling strong emotions was at the therapist and when I was at the temple. This could possibly be a by-product of being sick. Or it could just be a pattern of me detaching from myself.
3) The big worry in my sights right now is a medical test that I am having this week. I can't remember if I posted about the chest pains I've had while working out, or sometimes even while resting. I performed a heart stress test, and my heart is fine. The doctor said it was probably heartburn, so I've been taking a medication for that. Still, the pain has persisted, along with other strange things. I can feel food get 'stuck' in my esophagus. Sometimes my throat will seize up, or go into painful spasms. So, I'm going to get an EGD.
An EGD, or esophagogastroduodenoscopy, is basically where they stick a camera down the person's thraot. I've never had one before, but I've had plenty of horrifying fantasies about it since I first heard of it. I was feeling very nervous and terrified when I first heard about it. Oddly, it's isn't so bad since I learned they will put me under some form of anesthesia. The big worry about it now is paying for it. I don't have money problems frequently, but when I do, it usually causes me to panic. Oddly, I feel very detached from the feeling of panic, but I still find myself trying to calculate how much the procedure will cost and how I'm going to pay for it.
4) On top of all of this, I keep finding myself engaged in what I call 'deviant' behavior. It can be anything from fantasizing about a man, obsessing over them, finding myself looking for triggering pictures, avoiding people that I feel attracted to, or trying to hide myself from the world. It's basically a set of unhealthy behaviors that lead me to not feeling connected with the people around me. This deviant behavior is paired with an obsession over friendship and not feeling like I'm close to anyone.
When I take an honest look, I think all of these things I'm worried about are connected. The fear and worry over the procedure could be shorting out my feelings. That makes me feel like I'm not close to anyone, and leads me to seek that out. Because my feelings aren't working properly, I don't feel like I'm connected and I'm driven to the unhealthy behaviors to try to feel something. Sadly, I'm not quite sure how to break out of the cycle. Thankfully, I have a visit with my therapist tomorrow. Hopefully he can help me sort out parts of it.
I would also appreciate your prayers for the procedure this Wednesday. I'm going to need all the help and assurance I can get. Thank you.
Monday, February 13, 2012
The Issue Cycle 13Feb2012
This last week was a really interesting one for me. Thankfully, none of it involved a tow truck or a police car. It was just like I was noticing each and every last male that was even remotely attractive to me. It really bothered me for a good part of the week, especially since some of my co-workers fall into that category. Thankfully, I took the day off Friday to get a small reprieve from that. I've also been noticing how often my thoughts have turned to lust, or how often I find myself indulging in fantasy. I honestly don't know if this is due to an increase of temptations or if I'm simply becoming more and more aware of my thoughts and my attractions. I do feel like I'm starting to gain more control over my thoughts.
Anyways, I noticed this morning that a different issue of mine was starting to come up. I felt like I looked at my life and felt like I didn't have any close friends. I realized that this is partially a lie on my part. I have many friends that I can talk to, many people who are safe to share intimate and very personal things. I just don't understand why something like this keeps coming up. It could partially be to the fact that I have a tendency to push people away, even when they do get close to me.
I then realized that my issues tend to go through cycles. I've started to see themes and patterns emerge with thing that I 'deal with'. Similar issues tend to come up over and over. Each issue tends to take it's turn on the 'top' of the heap.
Here's a small list:
Touch. This one tends to be on the quite a bit. I've often felt the desire to be held by another person. Lately, I've also been getting desires to hold some friends of mine. I don't know if it's an attempt to comfort them, or to shelter them. One of my fears around this is that it's an attempt to try to take away their problems. On a more positive note, it could be a desire to give to other men what I feel I need. I've had some very positive and uplifting experiences related to touch and holding, so this issue doesn't seem to be on the top quite as much lately.
Nudity/Body Image. One of the biggest struggles of the past week seemed to be based around nudity or even how other men look. I found myself wanting to look, almost obsessively, at other men that I found attractive. It was like part of me wanted to figure out what it was I was looking for in them. I also found myself analyzing new men to see if I felt attracted to them or not. In some cases, I found myself wondering what they would look like unclothed in various degrees. Those sorts of thoughts unfortunately would quickly lead to inappropriate fantasies many times. This is an issue that I'm not quite sure how to address. I feel like I have made some progress with this 'issue', yet it is obvious there still is more work to be done. Largely, this could be boiled down to either my own body shame, or perhaps just a natural curiosity about what men look like.
Friendship. Friendship is the one that seems to be on the top most recently. I see two guys walking down the street together and imagine that they're best of friends. They're buddies. They do everything together. I find myself really wanting something like that. I look at interactions between men at church, work, or in other places and I judge that they are warm and friendly with each other, and I find myself craving interactions like that or interactions with those men. I've found myself many times looking at all of my friends and not feeling like there was anyone I was close to. It makes me wonder what I judge a 'close friendship' to be. There are many men I share personal things with, yet I don't feel close to those men. It could be a part of my defensive detachment. I could emotionally/mentally/behaviorally push men away when they get to close. The defensive detachment could largely come from feeling hurt by different men in the past (whether they intended to or not). It could also still be some burnout from my last few attempts at establishing a close friendship with another man.
To speak more of the friendship, I realized last night that I give some men great power to be able to hurt me, to make or break me. I find that I can grow very dependent, in a sense, to men that I am attracted to. If they interact positively with me, then everything is great. If they interact negatively with me, then the world is coming to an end. The whole thing is not a very healthy thing for me. It often leads me to feeling hurt.
On another note, I think that friendship is largely based on reciprocation. I know of many people, both male and female, that have tried to interact with me and share about themselves. For whatever reason, I have felt like I don't want to share on the same level back. On the other hand, there are men that I want to share about myself with them and be close to them, but I've felt like they don't want the same thing back. Even though I realize that it's probably not meant to be personal, I often find myself resenting the man. I feel hurt, bitter, and angry for a time, and then I find myself trying all over again. It honestly makes me afraid that seeking out a close friendship with another man is a fool's dream. Or, I'm afraid that there is something wrong with me that leads to these men not wanting to be close to me. Maybe there's something about the way I act and share that scares other men away. Perhaps my expectations are too high. Perhaps my idea of a close friendship isn't an accurate one. Or maybe I just keep pushing men away before they have a chance to get close. Maybe I move too fast and share too much.
I don't know the answer to the friendship thing. Relationships are complicated, because there are two different people involved. All I know is that it's the issue that seems to be on 'top' right now.
Friday, February 3, 2012
My (Mis)Adventures - 3Feb2012
I honestly can't think of a better word for what happened tonight.
Honestly, it started out pretty calm. I went to Jamba Juice after work. Tried out a banana berry flavor smoothing and came home. No one was home and it smelled faintly like poopy diapers (probably my imagination). I turned on the computer and started watching the last two episodes of Slayers Try. I was planning on meeting up with a friend after he got out of work.
5 minutes from the end of the last episode, the friend calls me up and I'm soon speeding my way to the place where we were going to meet. I ran into some heavy traffic, and finally arrived at the place I thought was the right one: Ichiban Sushi. I go inside and I don't see my friend anywhere in the place. That's when I call him up and realize the location is on the other side of State St. So, I quickly pop a U-turn and I find the place. I can't see any parking nearby so I pull into an open spot in the parking lot next to the sushi place we were meeting: Red Ginger. I walk in, find my friend. Order, enjoy the meal and the conversation (actually it was pretty one sided because I felt kind of shy about talking about myself). I walk out with the intention of going to his place to chat with him.
I walked to where my car was and had to do a double take. My car had...transformed? No, it was missing. There was another Prius nearby. Did they move my car? No, it wasn't my beloved Synthia. That's when I realized my car may have been stolen. I called up my friend (who thankfully hadn't left). And I searched the parking lot and found the small towing sign that said something to the effect of 33rd Plaza, towing by so and so towing company. The sign was no bigger than my license plate. Now, I've been to that plaza many times and I've NEVER seen that towing sign before. NEVER. Anyways, I call up the tow company, in a panic, and figure out where they are and how much I'll have to pay. $246.50. Borderline basketcase, I get in my friends car, talking a mile a minute. At this point, a man approaches the car asking us for some money and my friend obliged. We drove to a nearby ATM, went backwards through the lane (so that I could reach it), and I managed to extract the money without losing my debit card (it's happened before!).
Then we went to my friends place and had a very pleasant and interesting chat. Finally, it was time so I went back to the tow place. It was a bit of an adventure to find because the building they had wasn't right at the streets edge. We had to drive through the parking lot of a different tow company in order to find the one that had my beloved Synthia. I got inside, and there were about 3 people waiting for cars in front of me. Seriously, the one people kept asking questions and I about had an aneurism. At this point I realized again how grateful I was that I had paid Synthia off last December. Finally, I paid the money, signed all the forms, and got back to my car.
I can't quite explain the feeling of relief at sitting in the driver's seat. And the comforting, familiar feel of the seat against my back, and the feel of the shifter. I was pleased. I wanted to inspect my car for any possible damages, so I pulled out onto the street, called up my friend to tell him, and got out of my car to check it out. Everything looked good, and the tail light that randomly shorts out was even on (I've been pulled over for that 3 times in the last year). I walked up to my friend, and gave him a pat on the shoulder and thank him for his help. He put his car in gear, and it made me nervous because he didn't seem to quite know which gear he was in (he was in a rental). At this point, I jokingly ran off to go hide in my car.
My friend drives off. I reach over to tweet one last time how happy I am to have my car back, when the police lights started to shine in my rear view window. I was seriously reaching to shift into drive when it happened! The officer asked me what I was doing. I said I was just about to head out, and that I had just retrieved my car from the tow company. The officer said he saw me hand my friend something and then run away. I told him I had just patted him on the shoulder. After showing him my license and my tow company paperwork, the officer thanked me for my cooperation and then let me go. At that point, I decided the best thing to do was leave the scene as quickly as possibly. I got home without event and managed to fuel up my car. As I pulled out of the gas station, I had to pull in behind a Sheriff. At this point, I was begging the Sheriff to ignore me and pull someone else over.
I feel so many feelings over the course of the night. I felt rage, anger, sadness, shock, fear, numbness, and tired. I also felt contentment and safety with my friend.
I am grateful to have passed through the school of hard knocks relatively unscathed. I will not be visiting that little plaza at 33rd and State for a long time. I'm grateful that I had a great friend that stuck with me and helped me not go crazy. I'm also grateful that I paid my car off. In short, I'm grateful that Heavenly Father placed that friend in my life at that time.
In short, I had an adventurous night. One that I hope is never topped in a looooong time.
Honestly, it started out pretty calm. I went to Jamba Juice after work. Tried out a banana berry flavor smoothing and came home. No one was home and it smelled faintly like poopy diapers (probably my imagination). I turned on the computer and started watching the last two episodes of Slayers Try. I was planning on meeting up with a friend after he got out of work.
5 minutes from the end of the last episode, the friend calls me up and I'm soon speeding my way to the place where we were going to meet. I ran into some heavy traffic, and finally arrived at the place I thought was the right one: Ichiban Sushi. I go inside and I don't see my friend anywhere in the place. That's when I call him up and realize the location is on the other side of State St. So, I quickly pop a U-turn and I find the place. I can't see any parking nearby so I pull into an open spot in the parking lot next to the sushi place we were meeting: Red Ginger. I walk in, find my friend. Order, enjoy the meal and the conversation (actually it was pretty one sided because I felt kind of shy about talking about myself). I walk out with the intention of going to his place to chat with him.
I walked to where my car was and had to do a double take. My car had...transformed? No, it was missing. There was another Prius nearby. Did they move my car? No, it wasn't my beloved Synthia. That's when I realized my car may have been stolen. I called up my friend (who thankfully hadn't left). And I searched the parking lot and found the small towing sign that said something to the effect of 33rd Plaza, towing by so and so towing company. The sign was no bigger than my license plate. Now, I've been to that plaza many times and I've NEVER seen that towing sign before. NEVER. Anyways, I call up the tow company, in a panic, and figure out where they are and how much I'll have to pay. $246.50. Borderline basketcase, I get in my friends car, talking a mile a minute. At this point, a man approaches the car asking us for some money and my friend obliged. We drove to a nearby ATM, went backwards through the lane (so that I could reach it), and I managed to extract the money without losing my debit card (it's happened before!).
Then we went to my friends place and had a very pleasant and interesting chat. Finally, it was time so I went back to the tow place. It was a bit of an adventure to find because the building they had wasn't right at the streets edge. We had to drive through the parking lot of a different tow company in order to find the one that had my beloved Synthia. I got inside, and there were about 3 people waiting for cars in front of me. Seriously, the one people kept asking questions and I about had an aneurism. At this point I realized again how grateful I was that I had paid Synthia off last December. Finally, I paid the money, signed all the forms, and got back to my car.
I can't quite explain the feeling of relief at sitting in the driver's seat. And the comforting, familiar feel of the seat against my back, and the feel of the shifter. I was pleased. I wanted to inspect my car for any possible damages, so I pulled out onto the street, called up my friend to tell him, and got out of my car to check it out. Everything looked good, and the tail light that randomly shorts out was even on (I've been pulled over for that 3 times in the last year). I walked up to my friend, and gave him a pat on the shoulder and thank him for his help. He put his car in gear, and it made me nervous because he didn't seem to quite know which gear he was in (he was in a rental). At this point, I jokingly ran off to go hide in my car.
My friend drives off. I reach over to tweet one last time how happy I am to have my car back, when the police lights started to shine in my rear view window. I was seriously reaching to shift into drive when it happened! The officer asked me what I was doing. I said I was just about to head out, and that I had just retrieved my car from the tow company. The officer said he saw me hand my friend something and then run away. I told him I had just patted him on the shoulder. After showing him my license and my tow company paperwork, the officer thanked me for my cooperation and then let me go. At that point, I decided the best thing to do was leave the scene as quickly as possibly. I got home without event and managed to fuel up my car. As I pulled out of the gas station, I had to pull in behind a Sheriff. At this point, I was begging the Sheriff to ignore me and pull someone else over.
I feel so many feelings over the course of the night. I felt rage, anger, sadness, shock, fear, numbness, and tired. I also felt contentment and safety with my friend.
I am grateful to have passed through the school of hard knocks relatively unscathed. I will not be visiting that little plaza at 33rd and State for a long time. I'm grateful that I had a great friend that stuck with me and helped me not go crazy. I'm also grateful that I paid my car off. In short, I'm grateful that Heavenly Father placed that friend in my life at that time.
In short, I had an adventurous night. One that I hope is never topped in a looooong time.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Bouncing Around In My Head 30Jan2012
Today is another installment of 'Bouncing Around in My Head'. I'll be exploring a number of thoughts/ponderings that I've been having lately.
Since the coming out post, I actively told a number of friends of mine from my old Sigma Gamma Chi chapter about the fact that I had same gender attraction. (I say old because the fraternity was disbanded last year.) Most of the guys felt honored that I told them. Some of them were confused. Some of them already knew about me. I honestly was confused with the ones that already knew about me. I wonder why they hadn't ever brought it up with me, or tried to talk with me about it. It almost makes me feel like they'd been watching me for years, observing this behavior in me. Honestly, I say that and realize that I'm the one that's been watching my behavior very closely and always trying to decide my motives behind doing things. For the most part, it's not always fair to myself. Often times, my motives start out innocent. As I over-think things, I twist my own motives into things more insidious.
On a happy note, I've been asking for safe places to get my touch needs met. It's been very helpful and scary. It's interesting that I'm so unfamiliar with asking for something like that that I'm terrified of asking, and also scared when it happens. On the other hand, not taking care of this need of mine was slowly killing me, and led me to do something desperate. Thankfully, nothing too terrible happened there. Since then, I've been fulfilling my needs in a better, safer, healthier way. I'm trying to accept the fact that I need to regularly get this need met. I have a need for closeness with other men. In my eyes, it's a very natural, nonsexual sort of thing. It's when I don't get it met that it morphs into something else. Today, I still feel a drive to seek out touch, but I don't feel nearly as desperate or like I'm white knuckling through things as much.
Last Friday, I was exchanging some texts with an acquaintance of mine. He also experiences same gender attraction and has decided to have a boyfriend. Whenever we text, he nearly always says that he's doing 'great'. In our last exchange, he told (as he has before) that I was 'born this way' and that I should 'just get a man to sleep with'. Honestly, his comments infuriated me. I highly disagree with the idea that I was born with same gender attraction. I also wasn't born 5'6" with a full head of hair, an adult body, and a passion for games of all sorts. Those were things that developed over time. I could agree with the fact I was born with a tendency to be attracted toward other men. Perhaps my spirit was created with a greater need to bond with those of my same gender. I can agree with the idea that I was born more sensitive and introverted. I can't agree with the idea I was born with same gender attraction. So, 'born this way'. If you're talking about my personality, then yes. If you're talking about same gender attraction, no. I honestly feel like same gender attraction, specifically when it's a sexual nature, is a construct on top of some of my more basic personality features, basic needs, learned behaviors, and unmet needs. Same gender attraction, for me, is something far too complicated for a newborn to have.
In contract, I was speaking with another friend of mine, who also has same gender attraction, and he asked me a very profound question. Instead of trying to play the 'I know exactly who you are' card, he opted to understand my position. He asked me: "For whom are you trying to be straight?" Honestly, the question stunned me. I honestly wasn't quite sure at the time, and I realize the question is far more complicated than it may appear on the surface. I'll have to address it once piece at a time.
I'll start near the end with the word 'trying to be straight'. I can honestly state that in the past, I have tried to be straight. I've tried to suppress and ignore my feelings of same gender attraction. All it brought me was depression, self hatred, and misery. Since I've started to face and understand my feelings of attraction for men, I've slowly been learning to accept them. It's been a long process. I still have a long ways to go. There's probably some lingering part of me that expects me to magically want to date women, feel emotional/sexually attracted to them, and want to marry one. There definitely is some lingering self hatred and resentment for the fact that I have same gender attraction. I'm still pushing through. Until I fully accept the fact I have this, I doubt that Heavenly Father will fully reveal His intention for giving me this trial/challenge/curse/blessing. Recently, I had a profound talk with my therapist (see this blog post) that helped open my eyes to the possibility of embracing and accepting my same gender attraction, without giving up my religious beliefs. I honestly do believe I can enjoy deep, emotional connection with men and not break any laws of the gospel. I also believe I can be physically close (note not sexually/romantically close) with other men and not be breaking any laws of the gospel. The goal is for me to slowly work myself into a position where I can accept and embrace those things, because I believe they are things that I need. I've denied them for a long time, so it's going to take more time.
Now for the first part 'for whom'. For me, that's asking 'Why do I do what I do?' As I've thought about this question, I've also been reading I Don't Want To Kill You by Dan Wells. The book is about a sociopath teen who is obsessed with serial killers. He's studied how they work and think. One of the questions that he likes to ask is 'What did the killer do, that they didn't have to do?' The whole point of it was to understand how the serial killer is thinking. Or more accurately, what kind of holes the serial killer is trying to fill in their soul with killing. I also asked myself this question, trying to understand why I masturbate. Beyond eating, drinking, sleeping, and physical touch, there's not much I need to do in relation to my body. Why would I do something unnecessary like masturbation? What kind of hole am I trying to fill? After examining the behavior, and the thoughts that come up related to it, I realized that I was trying to find connection with other people. There is a hole where other people should go in my heart. For some reason, I have a hard time filling up that hole. I try to fill it up with something else, masturbation. And that honestly doesn't fill it up for me. I just realized that this paragraph is totally off topic.
Now, back to the original subject, why do I do what I do? My ultimate goal is to do things for Heavenly Father. I want to do His will. I want to be back in His presence one day. I want to have His happiness. I've felt His love. I yearn to feel it all the time. Is that what always motivates me? Of course not. Sometimes I do things purely for myself (out of selfishness). Sometimes I do things for myself to take care of myself (out of love for myself). Sometimes I do things to ascribe to an ideal, standard, or religious teaching. My least favorite is when I do things because of what I worry of what other people would think or what society would think of me. That has never led me to happiness. Ultimately, I want to be inspired and moved to act by love. Pure love. Charity. Love for myself, for my fellow man (and woman), and for a love of God.
Much easier said than done.
Well, friend who shall go unnamed, thank you for posing that question! It's honestly led me to recommitting myself to seek out the pure love of Christ (see Moroni 7:44-48 for one of my favorite definitions of charity). It's also helped me take another look at myself in a different sort of light. Thank you again!
Thank you for reading. If you have comments/insights/musings/questions, feel free to e-mail me (my e-mail is below). You can also comment on this blog post. Also, I accept text messages and Facebook messages (if you happen to know how to contact me that way).
Thank you friends.
-Andrew
Since the coming out post, I actively told a number of friends of mine from my old Sigma Gamma Chi chapter about the fact that I had same gender attraction. (I say old because the fraternity was disbanded last year.) Most of the guys felt honored that I told them. Some of them were confused. Some of them already knew about me. I honestly was confused with the ones that already knew about me. I wonder why they hadn't ever brought it up with me, or tried to talk with me about it. It almost makes me feel like they'd been watching me for years, observing this behavior in me. Honestly, I say that and realize that I'm the one that's been watching my behavior very closely and always trying to decide my motives behind doing things. For the most part, it's not always fair to myself. Often times, my motives start out innocent. As I over-think things, I twist my own motives into things more insidious.
On a happy note, I've been asking for safe places to get my touch needs met. It's been very helpful and scary. It's interesting that I'm so unfamiliar with asking for something like that that I'm terrified of asking, and also scared when it happens. On the other hand, not taking care of this need of mine was slowly killing me, and led me to do something desperate. Thankfully, nothing too terrible happened there. Since then, I've been fulfilling my needs in a better, safer, healthier way. I'm trying to accept the fact that I need to regularly get this need met. I have a need for closeness with other men. In my eyes, it's a very natural, nonsexual sort of thing. It's when I don't get it met that it morphs into something else. Today, I still feel a drive to seek out touch, but I don't feel nearly as desperate or like I'm white knuckling through things as much.
Last Friday, I was exchanging some texts with an acquaintance of mine. He also experiences same gender attraction and has decided to have a boyfriend. Whenever we text, he nearly always says that he's doing 'great'. In our last exchange, he told (as he has before) that I was 'born this way' and that I should 'just get a man to sleep with'. Honestly, his comments infuriated me. I highly disagree with the idea that I was born with same gender attraction. I also wasn't born 5'6" with a full head of hair, an adult body, and a passion for games of all sorts. Those were things that developed over time. I could agree with the fact I was born with a tendency to be attracted toward other men. Perhaps my spirit was created with a greater need to bond with those of my same gender. I can agree with the idea that I was born more sensitive and introverted. I can't agree with the idea I was born with same gender attraction. So, 'born this way'. If you're talking about my personality, then yes. If you're talking about same gender attraction, no. I honestly feel like same gender attraction, specifically when it's a sexual nature, is a construct on top of some of my more basic personality features, basic needs, learned behaviors, and unmet needs. Same gender attraction, for me, is something far too complicated for a newborn to have.
In contract, I was speaking with another friend of mine, who also has same gender attraction, and he asked me a very profound question. Instead of trying to play the 'I know exactly who you are' card, he opted to understand my position. He asked me: "For whom are you trying to be straight?" Honestly, the question stunned me. I honestly wasn't quite sure at the time, and I realize the question is far more complicated than it may appear on the surface. I'll have to address it once piece at a time.
I'll start near the end with the word 'trying to be straight'. I can honestly state that in the past, I have tried to be straight. I've tried to suppress and ignore my feelings of same gender attraction. All it brought me was depression, self hatred, and misery. Since I've started to face and understand my feelings of attraction for men, I've slowly been learning to accept them. It's been a long process. I still have a long ways to go. There's probably some lingering part of me that expects me to magically want to date women, feel emotional/sexually attracted to them, and want to marry one. There definitely is some lingering self hatred and resentment for the fact that I have same gender attraction. I'm still pushing through. Until I fully accept the fact I have this, I doubt that Heavenly Father will fully reveal His intention for giving me this trial/challenge/curse/blessing. Recently, I had a profound talk with my therapist (see this blog post) that helped open my eyes to the possibility of embracing and accepting my same gender attraction, without giving up my religious beliefs. I honestly do believe I can enjoy deep, emotional connection with men and not break any laws of the gospel. I also believe I can be physically close (note not sexually/romantically close) with other men and not be breaking any laws of the gospel. The goal is for me to slowly work myself into a position where I can accept and embrace those things, because I believe they are things that I need. I've denied them for a long time, so it's going to take more time.
Now for the first part 'for whom'. For me, that's asking 'Why do I do what I do?' As I've thought about this question, I've also been reading I Don't Want To Kill You by Dan Wells. The book is about a sociopath teen who is obsessed with serial killers. He's studied how they work and think. One of the questions that he likes to ask is 'What did the killer do, that they didn't have to do?' The whole point of it was to understand how the serial killer is thinking. Or more accurately, what kind of holes the serial killer is trying to fill in their soul with killing. I also asked myself this question, trying to understand why I masturbate. Beyond eating, drinking, sleeping, and physical touch, there's not much I need to do in relation to my body. Why would I do something unnecessary like masturbation? What kind of hole am I trying to fill? After examining the behavior, and the thoughts that come up related to it, I realized that I was trying to find connection with other people. There is a hole where other people should go in my heart. For some reason, I have a hard time filling up that hole. I try to fill it up with something else, masturbation. And that honestly doesn't fill it up for me. I just realized that this paragraph is totally off topic.
Now, back to the original subject, why do I do what I do? My ultimate goal is to do things for Heavenly Father. I want to do His will. I want to be back in His presence one day. I want to have His happiness. I've felt His love. I yearn to feel it all the time. Is that what always motivates me? Of course not. Sometimes I do things purely for myself (out of selfishness). Sometimes I do things for myself to take care of myself (out of love for myself). Sometimes I do things to ascribe to an ideal, standard, or religious teaching. My least favorite is when I do things because of what I worry of what other people would think or what society would think of me. That has never led me to happiness. Ultimately, I want to be inspired and moved to act by love. Pure love. Charity. Love for myself, for my fellow man (and woman), and for a love of God.
Much easier said than done.
Well, friend who shall go unnamed, thank you for posing that question! It's honestly led me to recommitting myself to seek out the pure love of Christ (see Moroni 7:44-48 for one of my favorite definitions of charity). It's also helped me take another look at myself in a different sort of light. Thank you again!
Thank you for reading. If you have comments/insights/musings/questions, feel free to e-mail me (my e-mail is below). You can also comment on this blog post. Also, I accept text messages and Facebook messages (if you happen to know how to contact me that way).
Thank you friends.
-Andrew
Friday, January 20, 2012
Paths Laden With Fog
I've been coming to learn, or more accurately re-learn, a few things about myself lately. Recently, I've been feeling pretty desperate for connection with other men. Granted, I've been talking and reaching out more than normal. I've even told a number of my friends about me, just in case they weren't following this blog. The desperation still wasn't being alleviated. There's a few simple facts that seem to contribute to this.
First off, my primary love language is touch (If you are unfamiliar with what a 'love language' is, see The 5 Love Languages site, it's also a book). Because of that, my primary way of feeling and expressing love toward other people is through touch, and this very much focused around men, with very few exceptions for women, most of whom are in my family. Most of the time, the expression has very little to do with lust or sexual desire. Sometimes it's a simple expression that I like the person or value them as a friend. Nothing more and nothing less.
This gets obviously frustrated by some aspects of American culture. In my perception, we're not a very touchy-feely sort of people, at least out in public. The same seems to be true when I visit church. In my home ward (by home I mean parent's ward), the people are very good at shaking hands. The last singles ward I was in, and this current ward don't seem to be very good at that, and I'm far too shy to even initiate that kind of contact.
Anyways, I was starting to feel desperate for some kind of physical contact with a man. I can look back now and see how crazy I was, because I have a whole group of friends that are willing to give appropriate, safe, and bonding touch with me. I told myself all sorts of lies to keep myself from asking them. It led me to seeking the safe, appropriate sort of touch in a very dangerous environment.
As an interesting aside, I notice a pattern that emerges when I feel like my touch need isn't getting met. I start to get the crazy notion that people will start spontaneously offering the kind of touch that I need or want. I start to drop into a childlike state, where I expect the people around me to know what my needs are. I basically tend to regress. When my need isn't met (which happens very often because I'm not asking for help to get them met), I start to slip into a state of defensive detachment. I get angry, and I feel lonely. In an attempt to escape the pain of not having the need met, I seek out 'numbing agents' of sorts. I turn to video games generally. The sort of lull and trance they put me in provides a false sense of peace and comfort, yet always lead me to a sense of emptiness and loneliness. When that isn't enough, I turn to stronger 'numbing agents': masturbation and pornography. Like video games, they leave with a more profound feeling of emptiness and numbness. In this state of numbness, I'm even less likely to ask for what I need. It's a vicious downward spiral.
At my support group this week, I managed to touch both the pain and the feeling of emptiness and detachment. It's amazing how familiar both of them feel. I'm often not even conscious of it. The detachment feels warm, familiar, old, and oddly peaceful. Yet it also feels like I'm all alone in a dark room with no one else there. The room is empty and vast.
As I discussed this at my support group, I realized that detachment and numbness is a choice I make. It's a choice that leads me down a road that ends up with me curled up in a ball trying to shut everything else out. It leads me to somewhere dark, lonely, yet safe. As I talked, I also realized there were other paths. There are other choices. There are many different people to ask for help from. All of the roads were covered in fog. I couldn't determine their outcome. The path to numbness, however, was quite clear. I know where it would lead me. I've taken it so many times, that the outcome is sure.
That aside, at support group I also recalled the last time I felt like I wanted some touch, specifically, I wanted to be held. It was when I was having a talk with my dad about this blog post. Forgive me other blog readers, but I'd like to address my dad personally. Feel free to read as well!
Dad, I think you may remember the last time we got together and chatted about a blog post I had made, one about some past shameful lies I'd been believing for years. Wow, this is hard, tears are already in my eyes. I remember as we talked that I one point, I simply wanted you to reach out your arms and cradle me, and comfort me. When I realized that, I almost immediately started to belittle/demean/talk down to myself about it. 'Why would an adult want to be held? I should be independent. I shouldn't need this. I shouldn't want this.' Despite what I said, the desire was still there. The pain was still there. I wanted to connect. I wanted to connect like a child would connect with his father. I wanted to be held by you. Yet, like a child, I found myself powerless to ask for what I wanted. I found myself incapable of expressing the words. Maybe because I was starting to feel, live, and act from a very young state, perhaps before I could even talk. I've always wondered why I've struggled to connect with you. I know I've been defensively detached from both you and Mom. I'm starting to wonder if the problem and solution lie somewhere in the desire to be held by you, dad. I somehow want to go back to where the defensive detachment started, attach, instead of detaching, and start unraveling years of me detaching myself from you. Honestly, I feel afraid to ask for what I want. I honestly don't know how you would take it, or even if you know how to hold me. I don't even know how long it would take, or even if it would take more than one time of it happening. There are many, many years of detachment. Many years of me isolating myself from you. I still think we can bridge the gap and heal this. Honestly, the path is laden with fog. All I know for now is there is a desire for me to be held by you.
Thank you for indulging me readers. I feel nearly overcome inside with the sadness and the pain. When I was a child, I didn't know what I needed. I obviously felt a need to be safe, so I started to withdraw from my parents. I honestly have no idea where it started. All I know is that it worked at the time, and now, it isn't working as an adult. To be withdrawn and detached from the people around me, means I can continue to be safe, but also broken, hurt, lonely, and ultimately, empty. It also means that I defend myself from others attempts to truly love me. It also extends to and disrupts my relationship with God.
The future paths are laden with fog. I could continue to take the one familiar path, that leads me to loneliness. I think it's time to start taking one of the fog laden ones and push through to see what's on the other side of the fog.
Oh, and a personal request. If you know me, in person, I would definitely appreciate more hugs! However that looks for you.
Thank you for reading.
First off, my primary love language is touch (If you are unfamiliar with what a 'love language' is, see The 5 Love Languages site, it's also a book). Because of that, my primary way of feeling and expressing love toward other people is through touch, and this very much focused around men, with very few exceptions for women, most of whom are in my family. Most of the time, the expression has very little to do with lust or sexual desire. Sometimes it's a simple expression that I like the person or value them as a friend. Nothing more and nothing less.
This gets obviously frustrated by some aspects of American culture. In my perception, we're not a very touchy-feely sort of people, at least out in public. The same seems to be true when I visit church. In my home ward (by home I mean parent's ward), the people are very good at shaking hands. The last singles ward I was in, and this current ward don't seem to be very good at that, and I'm far too shy to even initiate that kind of contact.
Anyways, I was starting to feel desperate for some kind of physical contact with a man. I can look back now and see how crazy I was, because I have a whole group of friends that are willing to give appropriate, safe, and bonding touch with me. I told myself all sorts of lies to keep myself from asking them. It led me to seeking the safe, appropriate sort of touch in a very dangerous environment.
As an interesting aside, I notice a pattern that emerges when I feel like my touch need isn't getting met. I start to get the crazy notion that people will start spontaneously offering the kind of touch that I need or want. I start to drop into a childlike state, where I expect the people around me to know what my needs are. I basically tend to regress. When my need isn't met (which happens very often because I'm not asking for help to get them met), I start to slip into a state of defensive detachment. I get angry, and I feel lonely. In an attempt to escape the pain of not having the need met, I seek out 'numbing agents' of sorts. I turn to video games generally. The sort of lull and trance they put me in provides a false sense of peace and comfort, yet always lead me to a sense of emptiness and loneliness. When that isn't enough, I turn to stronger 'numbing agents': masturbation and pornography. Like video games, they leave with a more profound feeling of emptiness and numbness. In this state of numbness, I'm even less likely to ask for what I need. It's a vicious downward spiral.
At my support group this week, I managed to touch both the pain and the feeling of emptiness and detachment. It's amazing how familiar both of them feel. I'm often not even conscious of it. The detachment feels warm, familiar, old, and oddly peaceful. Yet it also feels like I'm all alone in a dark room with no one else there. The room is empty and vast.
As I discussed this at my support group, I realized that detachment and numbness is a choice I make. It's a choice that leads me down a road that ends up with me curled up in a ball trying to shut everything else out. It leads me to somewhere dark, lonely, yet safe. As I talked, I also realized there were other paths. There are other choices. There are many different people to ask for help from. All of the roads were covered in fog. I couldn't determine their outcome. The path to numbness, however, was quite clear. I know where it would lead me. I've taken it so many times, that the outcome is sure.
That aside, at support group I also recalled the last time I felt like I wanted some touch, specifically, I wanted to be held. It was when I was having a talk with my dad about this blog post. Forgive me other blog readers, but I'd like to address my dad personally. Feel free to read as well!
Dad, I think you may remember the last time we got together and chatted about a blog post I had made, one about some past shameful lies I'd been believing for years. Wow, this is hard, tears are already in my eyes. I remember as we talked that I one point, I simply wanted you to reach out your arms and cradle me, and comfort me. When I realized that, I almost immediately started to belittle/demean/talk down to myself about it. 'Why would an adult want to be held? I should be independent. I shouldn't need this. I shouldn't want this.' Despite what I said, the desire was still there. The pain was still there. I wanted to connect. I wanted to connect like a child would connect with his father. I wanted to be held by you. Yet, like a child, I found myself powerless to ask for what I wanted. I found myself incapable of expressing the words. Maybe because I was starting to feel, live, and act from a very young state, perhaps before I could even talk. I've always wondered why I've struggled to connect with you. I know I've been defensively detached from both you and Mom. I'm starting to wonder if the problem and solution lie somewhere in the desire to be held by you, dad. I somehow want to go back to where the defensive detachment started, attach, instead of detaching, and start unraveling years of me detaching myself from you. Honestly, I feel afraid to ask for what I want. I honestly don't know how you would take it, or even if you know how to hold me. I don't even know how long it would take, or even if it would take more than one time of it happening. There are many, many years of detachment. Many years of me isolating myself from you. I still think we can bridge the gap and heal this. Honestly, the path is laden with fog. All I know for now is there is a desire for me to be held by you.
Thank you for indulging me readers. I feel nearly overcome inside with the sadness and the pain. When I was a child, I didn't know what I needed. I obviously felt a need to be safe, so I started to withdraw from my parents. I honestly have no idea where it started. All I know is that it worked at the time, and now, it isn't working as an adult. To be withdrawn and detached from the people around me, means I can continue to be safe, but also broken, hurt, lonely, and ultimately, empty. It also means that I defend myself from others attempts to truly love me. It also extends to and disrupts my relationship with God.
The future paths are laden with fog. I could continue to take the one familiar path, that leads me to loneliness. I think it's time to start taking one of the fog laden ones and push through to see what's on the other side of the fog.
Oh, and a personal request. If you know me, in person, I would definitely appreciate more hugs! However that looks for you.
Thank you for reading.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Names I've Gone By - Final Part
This post is the third final post in the 'Names I Have Gone By' series of posts (See Part 1, Part 2 for the other two parts). In this post, I will tell you my real name.
First, I am afraid of writing this post. To reveal my true name means that I can't hind behind the mask of 'Simon' anymore. I will be exposed out to the world, to the public for the first time in my life. I'm afraid of the ramifications. As I drove home today, listening to KLOVE, I finally felt prompted like it was time. What's the worse that could happen? Well, honestly, I could be beaten, killed, persecuted, yet all of those things would be but a small price to pay to be free of having to feel like I'm living in the shadows. It's a small price compared to having to hold back on telling my friends about this wonderful blog I've started. It's a small price to pay to be one step closer to have a fully integrated and whole life, a life in harmony with my Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and my fellow man.
My birth name is Andrew.
What does it mean? Andrew means 'manly' or warrior. I always found the name to be terribly ironic while growing up. I hardly ever felt manly and I definitely don't feel like a warrior. Still, it is my given name. Oddly, even thought I never felt like it fit, I've never adopted any nicknames associated with Andrew like 'Andy' or 'Drew'. I've always stayed with Andrew.
Really, as a write this, I realize that I am a different sort of warrior. I may not be strong, or one to do battle for my Lord, nation, or family in a physical sense. In many ways, I am a warrior of the heart. I do battle on spiritual and emotional fronts that many men chose not to fight, or choose to run away from. In some way, I am manly because I choose to face the reality of what is going on with me in my life.
I am Andrew. I am a son of God. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints or the 'Mormon' church. I experience same gender attraction. I am an avid lover of games of all sorts. Those things are ultimately a small part of who I am. If you're reading this blog for the first time, take the time to read the other posts. Other than most of the 'My Strange Dreams' posts, you'll probably learn a lot about me that you never knew.
I am Andrew. And this is my blog.
First, I am afraid of writing this post. To reveal my true name means that I can't hind behind the mask of 'Simon' anymore. I will be exposed out to the world, to the public for the first time in my life. I'm afraid of the ramifications. As I drove home today, listening to KLOVE, I finally felt prompted like it was time. What's the worse that could happen? Well, honestly, I could be beaten, killed, persecuted, yet all of those things would be but a small price to pay to be free of having to feel like I'm living in the shadows. It's a small price compared to having to hold back on telling my friends about this wonderful blog I've started. It's a small price to pay to be one step closer to have a fully integrated and whole life, a life in harmony with my Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and my fellow man.
My birth name is Andrew.
What does it mean? Andrew means 'manly' or warrior. I always found the name to be terribly ironic while growing up. I hardly ever felt manly and I definitely don't feel like a warrior. Still, it is my given name. Oddly, even thought I never felt like it fit, I've never adopted any nicknames associated with Andrew like 'Andy' or 'Drew'. I've always stayed with Andrew.
Really, as a write this, I realize that I am a different sort of warrior. I may not be strong, or one to do battle for my Lord, nation, or family in a physical sense. In many ways, I am a warrior of the heart. I do battle on spiritual and emotional fronts that many men chose not to fight, or choose to run away from. In some way, I am manly because I choose to face the reality of what is going on with me in my life.
I am Andrew. I am a son of God. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints or the 'Mormon' church. I experience same gender attraction. I am an avid lover of games of all sorts. Those things are ultimately a small part of who I am. If you're reading this blog for the first time, take the time to read the other posts. Other than most of the 'My Strange Dreams' posts, you'll probably learn a lot about me that you never knew.
I am Andrew. And this is my blog.
Friday, December 30, 2011
The Demons Come In Sideways
First off, this post is a scary one to write. I feel like I may be writing about some thoughts and ideas that I've never shared before. Also, I feel like I may be sharing one of the devils tricks. Also, I'm afraid of some of the ramifications of what I want to share in this post.
Last night started out normal, and slowly turned into something very painful. Typically on Thursday nights, I go and play computer games with some friends. Last night ended with me tweeting some very scary things. I'll start with those:
"The battlefield of the mind is a dynamic place. One moment, things are calm. The next, legions of demons emerge from the shadows."
"At first, the demons smile disarmingly, disabling defenses and setting all at ease."
"Then they slip sideways into thoughts, planing corrupt, poisoned seeds of lies that spread like a virus."
"Finally when the person has started to succumb to the poison, they try to crush the person with darkness and despair."
Last night, I was heading home on what I thought would be a typical night. Rush home, grab my computer, and rush to hang to with the friends. It would be an enjoyable evening where we ran around together in the game and laughed and struggled through it together. At least, that was what I was hoping for. I wanted to try to get to where we were meeting early to see if I could finish a book that I've been reading for the past month or so.
When I got home, I had a surprised. There were a lot more people in the front room than I expected. To explain, I live with a family of four. Sitting on the couch was the father, as well as another man I knew, as well as some of both of their children sitting in chairs. I was so shocked, I didn't recognize the other man for a few moments. He smiled and said 'hi'. In a daze, I think I said 'hi' to the man and his wife and went into my room to prepare my computer for transport.
By then, the demons had slipped out of the shadows. Without realizing it, the negative self talk had started in my head:
Why is that family visiting? It seems that the two families are becoming good friends. I feel kind of left out. Well, that's my fault. I'm hardly home and I hardly like to spend time with the family anyways. The two guys seem to have a really good friendship going on. I guess I'm not the kind of person that the other man was looking for. I guess I'm not good enough.
It happened so quickly. I became pretty withdrawn, and felt like I was a shadow moving through the place I lived. Although I did want to give both of those men I knew, who are my friends, hugs before I left, I instead left the scene as quickly as I could, listening away to the lies in my head:
Oh, I don't want to do that in front of either of the wives. What will they think of me? Will they think I'm trying to hit on them? Trying to make a pass?
It was when I was driving away when I finally realized I was listening to some of the oldest lies I've told myself for years. "People don't care about me. I'm not good enough. I'm not worth love and affection." I tried to counter it with truths I knew, but the poison had set in. I felt sad. I felt lonely.
I arrived at the game night, and it wasn't anything like I had hoped it to be. Me and the 3 other guys were all doing different things in different places in the games. It was incredibly lonely. I made a few snarky jokes on and off, feeling vaguely angry that we weren't all together in the game, yet I didn't do anything about that fact.
As I was driving home, the sadness and the loneliness had set in. My mind started to wonder.
There are deer along this part of the road. What if I hit one of them? I could die. Mom would be there at my funeral crying. Dying wouldn't be so bad. I'd be free from the pain I have here, this grief and pain.
That's when I shook my head and realized I was fantasizing. Still, I felt a deep pain in my heart. I was crying. I was sad, hurting, overcome by grief, a combination of the pain of loneliness, and the pains of a guilty conscious. I knew I was guilty of so many different sins. It felt like my heart was breaking.
As I carried my computer back into where I live, I felt dark, crushing despair. It was like something was trying to squeeze the hope out of me. It was a struggle to breath, and I managed to unlock the house and get inside. As I went back for the rest of the computer, I didn't want to go back inside. I knew the demons were out there. Finally, I was able to get everything in my house.
I was tempted with various things. One thought said 'Oh, set up your computer, look at some pornography. You'll feel better.' Another said 'Why don't you masturbate? It's the only time you're really loving yourself! After all, only you love yourself.' And even, there was a few thoughts about trying to end my life. I'm very scared to admit, but I did consider it for a moment, and even thought of way to do it.
All through this, I was praying. I was trying to connect. I honestly don't know why I didn't feel an answer. I laid down, texting two friends of mine. The pain was still there. Tears were still streaming down my face. Many times I whimpered because of the pain. Sometimes, I just wanted to implode on the spot and stop being because it felt like too much. I don't ever remember falling asleep.
This morning, I can still feel that pain in my heart. I still do feel a sense of guilt over things I've done. The one sin I was guilty of last night was perpetuating those lies I've told myself all the years and for listening to those demons. Honestly, I am afraid. I feel afraid whenever thoughts of suicide come up. I honestly feel like I'm too much of a coward to actually do anything like that. I also realize it would cause a great deal of pain to many people that I love. At what point though, does the pain get to be too much? I honestly feel like I am getting near some kind of breaking point. Something has to give. There's something in me that needs to break before I can move on from whatever it is I've been going through the last day, week, month...time period.
For now, I'm going to keep moving and try to feel my way through this pain.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Toxic Shame, Deep-set Lies
This will be a difficult post to write for me. Not difficult because I'm afraid to share it. Difficult because of the pain I know that it's going to touch on. Once more, into the breach.
In my support group this week, I did something where I looked into events where I had felt shamed. Sometime soon, I'll have to start up a series of posts called 'From the Memory Vault' where I share things from my past that I'm able to remember. I actually have a draft for one, but I'm too afraid to share it. I'm frankly worried about how I could explain it without the event becoming too pornographic. Here's a list of some of the shameful memories that I was able to remember this week:
I delved a bit deeper into that first memory I shared. At one point, I came to the realization that my teacher didn't care about me. No one seemed to care about me growing up. I was just another warm body. I was an object in the room. And deep down, all I wanted as a kid was to feel special, loved, noticed, cared for, delighted in.
I also got some good insight into one of my 'flavors' of attraction. I generally feel attracted to men bigger than me, to men that I judge are stronger than me. I also feel afraid around them, intimidated by them. It's an interesting internal conflict. I think it goes back to feeling shamed by various adults in my life. I wanted to feel loved by them, and instead I felt shamed by them. To this day, I find myself seeking that love and approval from the 'big men', from the 'adults'. I still want and crave that acceptance, affection, affirmation, ...love from them. That flavor of attraction is one of the hardest to 'shake off'. It's one of the hardest to resolve for me, probably because it's very deeply set.
Last night, I went to hang out with some friends. As soon as I showed up, they said 'hi', but then went back to talking with each other. I felt that same story come up. 'They don't care. They've never cared. You're just another person to them'. I tried to compensate by smiling and making jokes. On the way home, I felt lonely. As I was driving, I was looking at the world around me, admiring Heavenly Father's handiwork. A thought came to me: yes, this is a manifestation of His love. But, it's a manifestation of His love to everyone. It's a blanket statement. It's sent out generally to everyone. I do acknowledge there have been a few times when I have seen tender mercies in my life, when I have felt that I was specifically cared for. Somehow...I'm just not feeling it right now.
This morning, it finally hit me. The same idea 'You don't care' shows up in my relationship with my Heavenly Father. When I pray, I tell myself that I'm just another warm body to Him. No wonder the heaven's have felt so closed. No wonder I feel like I've slipped through the cracks and have fallen of His radar. I keep telling myself the same lie.
The same lie that has been lodged deep in my psyche.
I've even tried telling myself positive stories. Sure, they help for awhile, but the same old lie creeps up and slowly strangles my attempts at changing how I think. The poison is set deep.
Now I sit here, feeling empty, with the beginnings of tears in my eyes. I don't even know if I can see the depth of this wound that was dealt to me. I feel angry that I've continued to tell myself the same lie. I'm angry that I made the choice to feel ashamed and to detach while I was young. I feel like I've screwed up my life by making the choices I did. "It's all my fault". I chose to react the way I did. I chose to detach. It's my choice, I have to live with the consequences.
Perhaps I'm not heeding the saying that I came up with while talking with a friend a few weeks ago. The saying is 'You're supposed to carry your cross, not nail yourself to it!' I need to find a way to carry the burden this lie has created without it paralyzing me. And ultimately, I need to find out how to heal it and how to surrender it. There is a way. I believe that there is healing through Christ's Atonement. There is strength there, and there is grace. There is forgiveness and love. My heart feels too afraid to trust. It's been hurt so many times before. I keep hurting it by feeding it the same lie, and yet I keep sheltering it from any outside attempt to heal it.
Sounds like madness to me.
In my support group this week, I did something where I looked into events where I had felt shamed. Sometime soon, I'll have to start up a series of posts called 'From the Memory Vault' where I share things from my past that I'm able to remember. I actually have a draft for one, but I'm too afraid to share it. I'm frankly worried about how I could explain it without the event becoming too pornographic. Here's a list of some of the shameful memories that I was able to remember this week:
- In kindergarten, I colored a hand purple. The teacher had me re-color it because it was the 'wrong color'.
- In kindergarten, my teacher found my lunch, raised it up, asked who's it was. I raised my hand and she didn't see me, and it caused trouble later.
- I was forced to recount in front of the whole primary a time when I didn't come when my mother called
- At 8, I was told 'He shouldn't have gone in there!' by a man at the front desk of a military locker room, after I had gone in with my dad
- My dad telling me, at 8-9 years old, "If you were older, you would have needed to talk to a bishop"
- Various events with yelling and throwing of toys
- Me getting caught playing the Legend of Zelda early in the morning...Sunday morning
- Me getting in trouble for spitting on a girl
- I don't belong here
- I'm not valued
- I don't belong with men
- I don't matter
- I do everything wrong
- I'm always in trouble
- You don't care.
I delved a bit deeper into that first memory I shared. At one point, I came to the realization that my teacher didn't care about me. No one seemed to care about me growing up. I was just another warm body. I was an object in the room. And deep down, all I wanted as a kid was to feel special, loved, noticed, cared for, delighted in.
I also got some good insight into one of my 'flavors' of attraction. I generally feel attracted to men bigger than me, to men that I judge are stronger than me. I also feel afraid around them, intimidated by them. It's an interesting internal conflict. I think it goes back to feeling shamed by various adults in my life. I wanted to feel loved by them, and instead I felt shamed by them. To this day, I find myself seeking that love and approval from the 'big men', from the 'adults'. I still want and crave that acceptance, affection, affirmation, ...love from them. That flavor of attraction is one of the hardest to 'shake off'. It's one of the hardest to resolve for me, probably because it's very deeply set.
Last night, I went to hang out with some friends. As soon as I showed up, they said 'hi', but then went back to talking with each other. I felt that same story come up. 'They don't care. They've never cared. You're just another person to them'. I tried to compensate by smiling and making jokes. On the way home, I felt lonely. As I was driving, I was looking at the world around me, admiring Heavenly Father's handiwork. A thought came to me: yes, this is a manifestation of His love. But, it's a manifestation of His love to everyone. It's a blanket statement. It's sent out generally to everyone. I do acknowledge there have been a few times when I have seen tender mercies in my life, when I have felt that I was specifically cared for. Somehow...I'm just not feeling it right now.
This morning, it finally hit me. The same idea 'You don't care' shows up in my relationship with my Heavenly Father. When I pray, I tell myself that I'm just another warm body to Him. No wonder the heaven's have felt so closed. No wonder I feel like I've slipped through the cracks and have fallen of His radar. I keep telling myself the same lie.
The same lie that has been lodged deep in my psyche.
I've even tried telling myself positive stories. Sure, they help for awhile, but the same old lie creeps up and slowly strangles my attempts at changing how I think. The poison is set deep.
Now I sit here, feeling empty, with the beginnings of tears in my eyes. I don't even know if I can see the depth of this wound that was dealt to me. I feel angry that I've continued to tell myself the same lie. I'm angry that I made the choice to feel ashamed and to detach while I was young. I feel like I've screwed up my life by making the choices I did. "It's all my fault". I chose to react the way I did. I chose to detach. It's my choice, I have to live with the consequences.
Perhaps I'm not heeding the saying that I came up with while talking with a friend a few weeks ago. The saying is 'You're supposed to carry your cross, not nail yourself to it!' I need to find a way to carry the burden this lie has created without it paralyzing me. And ultimately, I need to find out how to heal it and how to surrender it. There is a way. I believe that there is healing through Christ's Atonement. There is strength there, and there is grace. There is forgiveness and love. My heart feels too afraid to trust. It's been hurt so many times before. I keep hurting it by feeding it the same lie, and yet I keep sheltering it from any outside attempt to heal it.
Sounds like madness to me.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Music That Speaks To Me - Everybody's Fool
Perfection. Perfection is such a lovely, perfect word. Perfect people are happy. Perfect people have no flaws. Perfect people are always smiling. There's nothing wrong with them.
Lyrics:
perfect by nature
icons of self-indulgence
just what we all need
more lies about a world that
never was and never will be
have you no shame? Don't you see me?
you know you've got everybody fooled
look here she comes now
bow down and stare in wonder
oh how we love you
no flaws when you're pretending
but now i know she
never was and never will be
you don't know how you've betrayed me
and somehow you've got everybody fooled
without the mask where will you hide?
can't find yourself lost in your lie
i know the truth now
i know who you are
and i don't love you anymore
it never was and never will be
you don't know how you've betrayed me
and somehow you've got everybody fooled
it never was and never will be
you're not real and you can't save me
somehow now you're everybody's fool
[Taken from http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/evanescence/everybodysfool.html]
The video takes a big stab at advertisement. I've always seen advertisements as trying to present some kind of 'perfect' image to consumers. If you drink this product, you'll be perfect, beatiful, wonderful, loved, etc etc etc.
What a pack of lies. I've found great amusement when I manage to shake off the spell that advertisements put on me, and really see through the veneer that they've put on things. There's something enjoyable at ignoring the perfect image that they try to put up.
As for myself, I've been the person who's tried to be 'perfect'. I've put on many masks in my life. The most destructive mask I've worn was the 'I'm a perfect person!' mask. As part of this mask, I have to smile and be happy all the time. Nothing is ever wrong in my life. I don't have same gender attraction. I feel the spirit all the time. I don't do anything wrong. I've got 'no flaws when [I'm] pretending'. Really, I hide my shortcomings. I hide my struggles. I'm living a life. In many ways, I betray myself when I put on this mask. When I try to live a life that 'never was or never will be', at least in this mortal life. When I wear the mask of perfection, I'm not loving myself. After all, how could I be loving a lie? How could someone else love me, when all they're loving is the mask?
About two and half years ago, reality started to sink in. I started to realize that I really needed help. I got a therapist that would actually help me get through my issues. I went to my first support group. I started to destroy that mask, although it is a difficult one to destroy. After all, I've lived for 26 years. I could probably say that a good majority of that time was spent hiding behind the mask, evading the truth about the world and about myself. I've spent a long time hiding the truth.
What are some things that hide behind the mask? Fear. Pain. Deep wounding. Endless cycles of lies that I've told myself. Sadness. Anger. The real me hides behind the mask. One of my deep fears is that I will not overcome same gender attraction in this life. I fear that I will have to deal with it until the day that I die. Even though I've done work, and tried to move past and heal issues, it still lingers. Many days I see it as a curse. I hide that fact from everyone around me, even myself. Some days, I've really got 'everybody fooled' even myself, and thus I am 'everybody's fool'.
The best way to combat any lie is with truth. To borrow from Jesus, who stated "Ye shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free" John 8:32. As I've come to know and accept the truth about me, the world, the people around me, Heavenly Father, his gospel, the Atonement, I've found freedom. Sometimes accepting that truth has been a painful process. Ultimately, it's healed me and made me free from the lies, free from being everybody's fool. Or perhaps more accurately, free from being a puppet of the adversary of all that is true, good, and holy.
This had been a difficult post for me. I hope that I, as well as all of you, can learn to cast of the masks that we wear. I hope that we together can learn to be more authentic. I hope we can embrace the truth. I believe that the truth is the only thing that can heal us and the world around us.
Truth: I am a valued son of Heavenly Father. Truth: He gave His only perfect Son's life so that I could become perfect as well. Truth: I am not perfect. Truth: I have many challenges in life, and they're all meant to lead me toward perfection, and back into the loving embrace of Heavenly Father.
Those are some of the truths that I am learning to embrace.
For more reading, you can read Dan's post from Single Dad Laughing on perfection. Click here: The disease called perfection. Enjoy!
If I've learned anything in my time here on this earth, there's no such thing as a perfect person. If I think someone's perfect, I'm obviously closing my eyes to the flaws they may have. Many times, I've felt like other people see me as a 'perfect' person. I feel put up on a pedestal. Sometimes I've put myself on that pedestal. I've put on that perfect veneer. I've tried to pretend to be a 'normal', happy, 'perfect' person.
Today's song speaks just to that. Disclaimer: there is some language in the song.
Lyrics:
perfect by nature
icons of self-indulgence
just what we all need
more lies about a world that
never was and never will be
have you no shame? Don't you see me?
you know you've got everybody fooled
look here she comes now
bow down and stare in wonder
oh how we love you
no flaws when you're pretending
but now i know she
never was and never will be
you don't know how you've betrayed me
and somehow you've got everybody fooled
without the mask where will you hide?
can't find yourself lost in your lie
i know the truth now
i know who you are
and i don't love you anymore
it never was and never will be
you don't know how you've betrayed me
and somehow you've got everybody fooled
it never was and never will be
you're not real and you can't save me
somehow now you're everybody's fool
[Taken from http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/evanescence/everybodysfool.html]
The video takes a big stab at advertisement. I've always seen advertisements as trying to present some kind of 'perfect' image to consumers. If you drink this product, you'll be perfect, beatiful, wonderful, loved, etc etc etc.
What a pack of lies. I've found great amusement when I manage to shake off the spell that advertisements put on me, and really see through the veneer that they've put on things. There's something enjoyable at ignoring the perfect image that they try to put up.
As for myself, I've been the person who's tried to be 'perfect'. I've put on many masks in my life. The most destructive mask I've worn was the 'I'm a perfect person!' mask. As part of this mask, I have to smile and be happy all the time. Nothing is ever wrong in my life. I don't have same gender attraction. I feel the spirit all the time. I don't do anything wrong. I've got 'no flaws when [I'm] pretending'. Really, I hide my shortcomings. I hide my struggles. I'm living a life. In many ways, I betray myself when I put on this mask. When I try to live a life that 'never was or never will be', at least in this mortal life. When I wear the mask of perfection, I'm not loving myself. After all, how could I be loving a lie? How could someone else love me, when all they're loving is the mask?
About two and half years ago, reality started to sink in. I started to realize that I really needed help. I got a therapist that would actually help me get through my issues. I went to my first support group. I started to destroy that mask, although it is a difficult one to destroy. After all, I've lived for 26 years. I could probably say that a good majority of that time was spent hiding behind the mask, evading the truth about the world and about myself. I've spent a long time hiding the truth.
What are some things that hide behind the mask? Fear. Pain. Deep wounding. Endless cycles of lies that I've told myself. Sadness. Anger. The real me hides behind the mask. One of my deep fears is that I will not overcome same gender attraction in this life. I fear that I will have to deal with it until the day that I die. Even though I've done work, and tried to move past and heal issues, it still lingers. Many days I see it as a curse. I hide that fact from everyone around me, even myself. Some days, I've really got 'everybody fooled' even myself, and thus I am 'everybody's fool'.
The best way to combat any lie is with truth. To borrow from Jesus, who stated "Ye shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free" John 8:32. As I've come to know and accept the truth about me, the world, the people around me, Heavenly Father, his gospel, the Atonement, I've found freedom. Sometimes accepting that truth has been a painful process. Ultimately, it's healed me and made me free from the lies, free from being everybody's fool. Or perhaps more accurately, free from being a puppet of the adversary of all that is true, good, and holy.
This had been a difficult post for me. I hope that I, as well as all of you, can learn to cast of the masks that we wear. I hope that we together can learn to be more authentic. I hope we can embrace the truth. I believe that the truth is the only thing that can heal us and the world around us.
Truth: I am a valued son of Heavenly Father. Truth: He gave His only perfect Son's life so that I could become perfect as well. Truth: I am not perfect. Truth: I have many challenges in life, and they're all meant to lead me toward perfection, and back into the loving embrace of Heavenly Father.
Those are some of the truths that I am learning to embrace.
For more reading, you can read Dan's post from Single Dad Laughing on perfection. Click here: The disease called perfection. Enjoy!
Monday, December 19, 2011
Self Talk
Today I want to talk about something a friend of mine called 'Self Talk'. Now, a person may think 'You talk to yourself? You're crazy!' Funny thing, my brain hardly ever shuts itself down. When it's not busy focusing on the task at hand, it could be analyzing the situation, resting (sometimes), or it could be engaged in telling me something about the situation (self talk).
Let's take this last weekend for example. Friday night, I spent time with family, and felt really good. Saturday evening I also spent time with some friends that was very uplifting, entertaining, and gave me that lovely 'feel good' feeling inside (interestingly enough, without a whole lot of cuddle time, but that is beside the point). Sunday rolls around, and I'm still feeling pretty good, albeit a bit tired. I get to church, and suddenly, the feelings of loneliness start to kick in. Elder's Quorum it seemed to be particularly bad, and I was feeling really down. Only after I got home, did I realize I'd been engaging in some negative self talk.
This is a more accurate view of what was going on:
Outside action: I drive into the parking lot, and feel like parking further away from everyone else.
Self talk: I don't have friends in this ward. I don't belong here. I want to park far away so that the pain of trying to pretend to be 'close' to the ward is less.
Outside action: I sit down in sacrament meeting, alone.
Self talk: I'm all alone. Everyone else has a family. I'm not the same as everyone else here. I'm a loner. I'm lonely. I'll always be lonely if I'm single. I'm less than the other people in the ward.
Outside action: I look around, a notice some men that I'm attracted to.
Self talk: I shouldn't be scoping other people out. I'm being some kind of voyeur.
Outside action: I see a man who I've noticed is affectionate toward his kids. I find myself straining to see if he's doing it today.
Self talk: You're some kind of stalker. Why do you want to see that?
Outside action: My Elder's Quorum president talks how if people are in need, they can ask their home teachers for help or their friends in the ward.
Self talk: I'm in some dire emotional need. I need friends in this ward. I don't really have any friends. My home teachers don't visit me. I don't feel like I'm making a difference here. I'm afraid to reach out. I'm afraid of asking for what I need. If they knew what I thought about, they would reject me. They'd chase me out of the ward with pitchforks. If they knew what I wanted sometimes, they would do the same.
Outside action: A man in the ward, who I do consider to be somewhat of a friend when I'm thinking straighter, gives me a friendly pat on the back as I walk by.
Self talk: I really want more than that. I guess I have to accept what scraps are giving me. I'm so tired of dealing with other men's phobia of touch with other men. I'm so tired of feeling that myself. Other men are just so scared to do it. I'm scared to ask for it from straight men. What's the point of bonding with these guys?
And so on, and so forth. All self talk, for me, seems to have a common thread: hardly any of it is based in truth. A lot of it is dirty, horrible, rotten lies that I've told myself for years and continue to tell myself. Some of those lies are:
Let's take this last weekend for example. Friday night, I spent time with family, and felt really good. Saturday evening I also spent time with some friends that was very uplifting, entertaining, and gave me that lovely 'feel good' feeling inside (interestingly enough, without a whole lot of cuddle time, but that is beside the point). Sunday rolls around, and I'm still feeling pretty good, albeit a bit tired. I get to church, and suddenly, the feelings of loneliness start to kick in. Elder's Quorum it seemed to be particularly bad, and I was feeling really down. Only after I got home, did I realize I'd been engaging in some negative self talk.
This is a more accurate view of what was going on:
Outside action: I drive into the parking lot, and feel like parking further away from everyone else.
Self talk: I don't have friends in this ward. I don't belong here. I want to park far away so that the pain of trying to pretend to be 'close' to the ward is less.
Outside action: I sit down in sacrament meeting, alone.
Self talk: I'm all alone. Everyone else has a family. I'm not the same as everyone else here. I'm a loner. I'm lonely. I'll always be lonely if I'm single. I'm less than the other people in the ward.
Outside action: I look around, a notice some men that I'm attracted to.
Self talk: I shouldn't be scoping other people out. I'm being some kind of voyeur.
Outside action: I see a man who I've noticed is affectionate toward his kids. I find myself straining to see if he's doing it today.
Self talk: You're some kind of stalker. Why do you want to see that?
Outside action: My Elder's Quorum president talks how if people are in need, they can ask their home teachers for help or their friends in the ward.
Self talk: I'm in some dire emotional need. I need friends in this ward. I don't really have any friends. My home teachers don't visit me. I don't feel like I'm making a difference here. I'm afraid to reach out. I'm afraid of asking for what I need. If they knew what I thought about, they would reject me. They'd chase me out of the ward with pitchforks. If they knew what I wanted sometimes, they would do the same.
Outside action: A man in the ward, who I do consider to be somewhat of a friend when I'm thinking straighter, gives me a friendly pat on the back as I walk by.
Self talk: I really want more than that. I guess I have to accept what scraps are giving me. I'm so tired of dealing with other men's phobia of touch with other men. I'm so tired of feeling that myself. Other men are just so scared to do it. I'm scared to ask for it from straight men. What's the point of bonding with these guys?
And so on, and so forth. All self talk, for me, seems to have a common thread: hardly any of it is based in truth. A lot of it is dirty, horrible, rotten lies that I've told myself for years and continue to tell myself. Some of those lies are:
- I'm worthless
- I'm not valued
- I'm not cared for
- I'm not important
- I'm stupid
- I'm ugly
- I'm weak
- I'm not a man
- I have no value
The list could go on and on and on.
I decided, during sacrament this last week, that I would try to replace my negative self talk with some positive self talk. Hopefully, that will ultimately change the beliefs I have about myself. Hopefully it will change how I act. Here are some of things I came up with:
- I am worthy of love and connection.
- I am loved.
- I have friends.
- God loves me.
- God is good and faithful. He can be trusted.
- I am worth dying for (speaking about the Atonement)
- I am worth it
- I am worthy of affirmation and affection
- I am working toward perfection
- I can do great things
The list of positive self talk helps me feel more bolstered and more uplifted. It helps build me up, and I feel like it helps build me up in the right way. One more thing that I heard from a friend recently is 'I need to be the change I want to see'. I remember at the time I was complaining to him about wanting to give and receive more touch from straight male friends. He then said something to the effect of: if that's something I want to see, then I need to do it. In other words, if I want to see appropriate male affection be introduced into the culture around me, then I need to be the one dispensing it. It sounds like a big and lofty goal.
Oh dear, here comes the negative self talk again. I have but one thing to say in response to it 'I can'.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Depression - 16Dec2011
Last night and this morning really haven't been good to me. I've been struggling with the loneliness and depression. I'm starting to realize that I have more struggles in life than just same gender attraction. There's the anxiety, the loneliness, the defensive detachment from other people, depression, and an inability to trust others and trust Heavenly Father.
Last night was an OK night. I went and spent some time with the guys that I knew from the fraternity. I remember feeling bored most of the night. As I drove home, I felt kind of empty and numb. I ate all of the chocolate chip cookies one of the guys had given me. It made my stomach feel kind of upset. I remember that I set my computer down and briefly considered setting up my computer and turning it on. I knew if I did that, that I would start searching for triggering images, and possibly get mixed up in pornography. Instead, I finished getting ready for bed.
I found myself thinking about how lonely I felt. I started to go through the people I knew. I was realizing that not any one person was going to be able to help fulfill my need for friendship. One person was not going to fit all of the wants I had for friendship. I starting putting people into categories. There's one man that I trust for guidance and advice, but we don't really do anything together. There's another man with whom I share a number of interests, but he is a very busy person. There's another man like that who I even was close to, but I ended up becoming codependent. There's other men that I try to reach out too, but I always feel like I'm the one making all the effort in the friendship. There's other men that try to reach out with me, but I don't feel like I want to reach back.
I basically started to throw a pity party for myself. I found myself praying, asking, wondering if Jesus and Heavenly Father would be my only friends, the only ones that could really love me, and really help me. Even after asking and reaching toward Him, I still felt like His love along wouldn't be enough. I thought that even with Him, I would still be longing for human interaction. While laying feeling lonely, thoughts of temptation entered my mind. I eventually succumbed to the idea of 'Oh, I'll feel good for a few moments now'.
This morning, it was a struggle to get out of bed. I was feeling empty. I was feeling guilty and ashamed. I was still feeling lonely. When I finally got into the shower, I spent a few minutes curled up in a ball under the hot water, not wanting to move and face the day. I got out of the shower, sat on the floor and draped my towel around my shoulder and curled up in a ball again. I didn't want to go anywhere, I just wanted to sit there. Finally, I was able to get up, get dressed, and get in the car. I was feeling sad.
Driving to work, I was able to feel some emotion: anger, directed at the other drivers. I got really angry right before I got to work. I remember sitting in my car, not wanting to get out. I didn't like the fact I'd gotten so angry at the other driver. I didn't want the anger. I sat in the car until the air started to cool. I briefly considered the idea of sitting there until my body went cold. I did eventually get out of the car and get into work. I sat at the computer, and when it was on, I was able to forget about the depression. When I got up to go to the bathroom, the feeling of sadness and loneliness came back. I guess the computer is just a distraction for me.
Do I have depression? I'm scared that I am. Do I deal with loneliness? I'm pretty sure I do. I was remembered a movie we watched in elementary school on the way to work. It was about a kid that no one seemed to like, no one would interact with. He would go to school and had no friends there. He would go home, and his parents wouldn't talk to him. Eventually, he walked off the school bus one day and just fell down and died. The title of the movie was 'Cypher'. Cypher meaning zero. The person was a zero everyone's eyes. I realized that I had made some progress. I do feel like I have some impact on the world. When the loneliness and depression sets in, I start to feel like a Cypher. I start to feel like a ghost in my life, drifting past that no one can see or if they can see me, they don't care to interact with me.
Depression scares me, especially because that's when the thoughts of wanting to die enter into my life. I honestly think I'm far too much of a coward to end my own life. Yet, if the pain and the loneliness get to much, I may be driven to something like that. The other thing that comes with depression is not wanting to do anything. The idea of maintaining this blog sometimes feels like it's too much. I find myself wanting more feedback. I find myself wanting more people to interact with. I find myself searching for people that are willing to share of themselves as well. Sure, I've had many people tell me they've been reading my blog. Some express that they relate to it. It seems to end there. No one wants to further into it and I'm too passive to want to investigate further.
Sometimes I wish some of the people who don't know who I am behind my alias would talk to me about the blog. They're the people I'm really trying to reach. I can see it as a form of madness. I want to connect to those people, but I'm not actively reaching out to them. I want them to read these words and know that it's me that's writing them, but I hide behind an alias. I want to find connections and friendships where I can be open and vulnerable with another person, and that other person be the same way back, but I'm too afraid to take the first step to be vulnerable. I'm just so tired of trying. I'm so tired of reaching and not feeling like the others are reaching back.
Sometimes I think there's something about me that makes it so other people don't want to interact with me. Am I too much for them? Am I too draining? Do I ask for too much? Do I expect too much? I went to a fireside this Sunday. The first few groups of people I walked up to disbanded a few moments after I got there. Only in one case did a person stay to talk with me. Later on that did change, but for awhile I started to wonder if there was something wrong with me. After my support meeting, it seemed only a small handful of the men really wanted to talk with me. Most other conversations ran dry relatively quickly.
Perhaps I am crazy. I do have many friends. Part of me looks at me with condemnation and says 'Should you be grateful for what you have? Why isn't it enough? Why can't the friendships you have be enough? Why isn't God's love and grace enough for you?' Another part considers the people I have said I don't want to be friends with and says 'What do you expect? These men have tried to be your friend, and you haven't let them. You've turned them down. You've stopped talking to them. You haven't tried. How can you expect anyone to do the same?' Yet another voice speaks up and says 'If they really knew you, they'd run away in fear.' Yet another says 'It's not worth it to interact with other people. You'll either give in to your attractions or be driven mad by them. You'll always live in jealousy and envy of the friendships you see in other people. You'll never have it. You'll always be alone. You'll always be an island. Might as well cut your ties with everyone and not expect them to come looking for you.' I had the idea to stop going to church, to stop going to the support group. A voice came saying 'Oh, it doesn't really help you. When you go, you just find yourself longing to connect to the other men there, but it never works when you try. It will never work when you try. Nothing you do can change things'. Then comes up one of the scariest voices 'You should just end it. It'd be simple. Then you would really know who cared about you. They would come and cry for you at your funeral.' The voice even took a scarier turn this morning 'Heavenly Father is the only one that loves you. Why don't you just end this life so that you can be with Him? He's the only one that loves you.'
It is scary. It really is scary. I keep praying for the strength to get me through. Heavenly Father is the one person that can help pull me through it. It hurts though. The loneliness and isolation hurt. I sit here with tears of sadness welling up in my eyes, and pain in my heart. I'm afraid this pain and sadness will lead me to anger and defensiveness. That will only drive those trying to get close to me even further away.
Oh well. It's another day. It's another chance to try. I feel pessimistic about it.
Last night was an OK night. I went and spent some time with the guys that I knew from the fraternity. I remember feeling bored most of the night. As I drove home, I felt kind of empty and numb. I ate all of the chocolate chip cookies one of the guys had given me. It made my stomach feel kind of upset. I remember that I set my computer down and briefly considered setting up my computer and turning it on. I knew if I did that, that I would start searching for triggering images, and possibly get mixed up in pornography. Instead, I finished getting ready for bed.
I found myself thinking about how lonely I felt. I started to go through the people I knew. I was realizing that not any one person was going to be able to help fulfill my need for friendship. One person was not going to fit all of the wants I had for friendship. I starting putting people into categories. There's one man that I trust for guidance and advice, but we don't really do anything together. There's another man with whom I share a number of interests, but he is a very busy person. There's another man like that who I even was close to, but I ended up becoming codependent. There's other men that I try to reach out too, but I always feel like I'm the one making all the effort in the friendship. There's other men that try to reach out with me, but I don't feel like I want to reach back.
I basically started to throw a pity party for myself. I found myself praying, asking, wondering if Jesus and Heavenly Father would be my only friends, the only ones that could really love me, and really help me. Even after asking and reaching toward Him, I still felt like His love along wouldn't be enough. I thought that even with Him, I would still be longing for human interaction. While laying feeling lonely, thoughts of temptation entered my mind. I eventually succumbed to the idea of 'Oh, I'll feel good for a few moments now'.
This morning, it was a struggle to get out of bed. I was feeling empty. I was feeling guilty and ashamed. I was still feeling lonely. When I finally got into the shower, I spent a few minutes curled up in a ball under the hot water, not wanting to move and face the day. I got out of the shower, sat on the floor and draped my towel around my shoulder and curled up in a ball again. I didn't want to go anywhere, I just wanted to sit there. Finally, I was able to get up, get dressed, and get in the car. I was feeling sad.
Driving to work, I was able to feel some emotion: anger, directed at the other drivers. I got really angry right before I got to work. I remember sitting in my car, not wanting to get out. I didn't like the fact I'd gotten so angry at the other driver. I didn't want the anger. I sat in the car until the air started to cool. I briefly considered the idea of sitting there until my body went cold. I did eventually get out of the car and get into work. I sat at the computer, and when it was on, I was able to forget about the depression. When I got up to go to the bathroom, the feeling of sadness and loneliness came back. I guess the computer is just a distraction for me.
Do I have depression? I'm scared that I am. Do I deal with loneliness? I'm pretty sure I do. I was remembered a movie we watched in elementary school on the way to work. It was about a kid that no one seemed to like, no one would interact with. He would go to school and had no friends there. He would go home, and his parents wouldn't talk to him. Eventually, he walked off the school bus one day and just fell down and died. The title of the movie was 'Cypher'. Cypher meaning zero. The person was a zero everyone's eyes. I realized that I had made some progress. I do feel like I have some impact on the world. When the loneliness and depression sets in, I start to feel like a Cypher. I start to feel like a ghost in my life, drifting past that no one can see or if they can see me, they don't care to interact with me.
Depression scares me, especially because that's when the thoughts of wanting to die enter into my life. I honestly think I'm far too much of a coward to end my own life. Yet, if the pain and the loneliness get to much, I may be driven to something like that. The other thing that comes with depression is not wanting to do anything. The idea of maintaining this blog sometimes feels like it's too much. I find myself wanting more feedback. I find myself wanting more people to interact with. I find myself searching for people that are willing to share of themselves as well. Sure, I've had many people tell me they've been reading my blog. Some express that they relate to it. It seems to end there. No one wants to further into it and I'm too passive to want to investigate further.
Sometimes I wish some of the people who don't know who I am behind my alias would talk to me about the blog. They're the people I'm really trying to reach. I can see it as a form of madness. I want to connect to those people, but I'm not actively reaching out to them. I want them to read these words and know that it's me that's writing them, but I hide behind an alias. I want to find connections and friendships where I can be open and vulnerable with another person, and that other person be the same way back, but I'm too afraid to take the first step to be vulnerable. I'm just so tired of trying. I'm so tired of reaching and not feeling like the others are reaching back.
Sometimes I think there's something about me that makes it so other people don't want to interact with me. Am I too much for them? Am I too draining? Do I ask for too much? Do I expect too much? I went to a fireside this Sunday. The first few groups of people I walked up to disbanded a few moments after I got there. Only in one case did a person stay to talk with me. Later on that did change, but for awhile I started to wonder if there was something wrong with me. After my support meeting, it seemed only a small handful of the men really wanted to talk with me. Most other conversations ran dry relatively quickly.
Perhaps I am crazy. I do have many friends. Part of me looks at me with condemnation and says 'Should you be grateful for what you have? Why isn't it enough? Why can't the friendships you have be enough? Why isn't God's love and grace enough for you?' Another part considers the people I have said I don't want to be friends with and says 'What do you expect? These men have tried to be your friend, and you haven't let them. You've turned them down. You've stopped talking to them. You haven't tried. How can you expect anyone to do the same?' Yet another voice speaks up and says 'If they really knew you, they'd run away in fear.' Yet another says 'It's not worth it to interact with other people. You'll either give in to your attractions or be driven mad by them. You'll always live in jealousy and envy of the friendships you see in other people. You'll never have it. You'll always be alone. You'll always be an island. Might as well cut your ties with everyone and not expect them to come looking for you.' I had the idea to stop going to church, to stop going to the support group. A voice came saying 'Oh, it doesn't really help you. When you go, you just find yourself longing to connect to the other men there, but it never works when you try. It will never work when you try. Nothing you do can change things'. Then comes up one of the scariest voices 'You should just end it. It'd be simple. Then you would really know who cared about you. They would come and cry for you at your funeral.' The voice even took a scarier turn this morning 'Heavenly Father is the only one that loves you. Why don't you just end this life so that you can be with Him? He's the only one that loves you.'
It is scary. It really is scary. I keep praying for the strength to get me through. Heavenly Father is the one person that can help pull me through it. It hurts though. The loneliness and isolation hurt. I sit here with tears of sadness welling up in my eyes, and pain in my heart. I'm afraid this pain and sadness will lead me to anger and defensiveness. That will only drive those trying to get close to me even further away.
Oh well. It's another day. It's another chance to try. I feel pessimistic about it.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
White Knuckling It 6Dec2011
It's been about 4 months or so since I last had a problem looking at pornography. By pornography, I mean something that nearly any (sane) person would call pornographic. I haven't had a problem with masturbation for over two weeks.
I've been tempted many times to give in to both evils. Sometimes I started to entertain the ideas. I've found myself looking at pictures that aren't healthy for me in this state. Just last weekend, I started watching some videos that weren't good for me either. I was flirting with the line. I was putting myself into fire. Thankfully, a friend messaged me on Facebook. I felt a sense of guilt and shame at having been watching something like that. I closed the browser tab and talked with him a bit.
This morning, the temptation came again to give in. I paused for a moment, made sure I was looking at what was going on around me, and tried to tap into what I was feeling. Sadness, depression and a feeling of warmth inside. Heavenly Father does know what's going on with me. He knows what my needs are. When I'm not taking care of my needs or letting Heavenly Father take care of what needs I can't take care of on my own, I'm far more vulnerable to being tempted to 'take care' of my needs with something counterfeit. In fact, many times when I've been tempted I've thought "Yeah, that will feel good for a moment, but I'll be even worse afterward".
One need that I've been struggling to meet is getting adequate sleep. I feel tired at night until the moment my head hits the pillow. I then get a feeling of longing. I want someone to snuggle up to. I want to be held by someone until I fall asleep. I find my mind going into fantasy and the temptation to masturbate grows. For instance, last night I had to open my eyes many times to get a good dose of reality. I had to remind myself that I was along in the room. I had to tap back into my feelings of exhaustion. After some struggle, I was able to fall asleep. Lack of sleep really doesn't help with my overall mood.
Another contributing factor is the fact of physical pain. I've been having some strange and particularly annoying headaches lately, accompanied by pain in my shoulders and neck. I went and got a massage last Saturday, but that didn't seem to help much. The whole area either feels tight, or burns. The feelings of pain come and go. I'm sure this may be from stress related to my job and trying to figure out life problems.
Another need I feel is lacking is the need to connect with other men. This need seems to be plastered all over my thoughts and actions. My primary way of feeling connected to another person is through touch. I have all sorts of fear, beliefs, and stories around touch that make things difficult. Sometimes I feel like I'm having to 'sneak in' getting touch. Sometimes it feels like it's something that can only be done in 'secret'. On particularly difficult days, I find myself believing that wanting to be touched or wanting to touch another man in any way is 'bad'.
On a related note, yesterday I had to carpool with some men from my work. Three of us had to squeeze into the back seat. Both of the other men were bigger than, one by quite a bit. Needless to say, it was a bit uncomfortable. The man on my left finally put his arm around the seat behind me. The man on the right kept moving himself away as far as possible to 'give me space'. Honestly, I would have been totally happy with him putting his arm around me. I really wanted him to. Yet, how could I ask something like that? I honestly was afraid of what the man would think of me? Was it 'bad' that I wanted this guys arm around me? Was it bad that I liked how it did feel to sit right next to him and the other man?
I feel like I'm getting desperate to figure out how to handle this need. On the way out of a clothing store, I had a strange urge to walk up to one of the male mannequins and starting rubbing its chest. I thought it was a little amusing at the time. Now it feels shameful and disgusting. It's a similar urge that I get toward other men.
I feel like I'm trying to white knuckle my way through this. There must be a way to get that need for touch met, without it becoming something sexual or romantic. There must be a way to give and receive affection with another man without violating any sort of gospel principles. I'm just having a hard time seeing it right now. I pray that God will help me find the answers soon. I pray I'll find the answers.
I've been tempted many times to give in to both evils. Sometimes I started to entertain the ideas. I've found myself looking at pictures that aren't healthy for me in this state. Just last weekend, I started watching some videos that weren't good for me either. I was flirting with the line. I was putting myself into fire. Thankfully, a friend messaged me on Facebook. I felt a sense of guilt and shame at having been watching something like that. I closed the browser tab and talked with him a bit.
This morning, the temptation came again to give in. I paused for a moment, made sure I was looking at what was going on around me, and tried to tap into what I was feeling. Sadness, depression and a feeling of warmth inside. Heavenly Father does know what's going on with me. He knows what my needs are. When I'm not taking care of my needs or letting Heavenly Father take care of what needs I can't take care of on my own, I'm far more vulnerable to being tempted to 'take care' of my needs with something counterfeit. In fact, many times when I've been tempted I've thought "Yeah, that will feel good for a moment, but I'll be even worse afterward".
One need that I've been struggling to meet is getting adequate sleep. I feel tired at night until the moment my head hits the pillow. I then get a feeling of longing. I want someone to snuggle up to. I want to be held by someone until I fall asleep. I find my mind going into fantasy and the temptation to masturbate grows. For instance, last night I had to open my eyes many times to get a good dose of reality. I had to remind myself that I was along in the room. I had to tap back into my feelings of exhaustion. After some struggle, I was able to fall asleep. Lack of sleep really doesn't help with my overall mood.
Another contributing factor is the fact of physical pain. I've been having some strange and particularly annoying headaches lately, accompanied by pain in my shoulders and neck. I went and got a massage last Saturday, but that didn't seem to help much. The whole area either feels tight, or burns. The feelings of pain come and go. I'm sure this may be from stress related to my job and trying to figure out life problems.
Another need I feel is lacking is the need to connect with other men. This need seems to be plastered all over my thoughts and actions. My primary way of feeling connected to another person is through touch. I have all sorts of fear, beliefs, and stories around touch that make things difficult. Sometimes I feel like I'm having to 'sneak in' getting touch. Sometimes it feels like it's something that can only be done in 'secret'. On particularly difficult days, I find myself believing that wanting to be touched or wanting to touch another man in any way is 'bad'.
On a related note, yesterday I had to carpool with some men from my work. Three of us had to squeeze into the back seat. Both of the other men were bigger than, one by quite a bit. Needless to say, it was a bit uncomfortable. The man on my left finally put his arm around the seat behind me. The man on the right kept moving himself away as far as possible to 'give me space'. Honestly, I would have been totally happy with him putting his arm around me. I really wanted him to. Yet, how could I ask something like that? I honestly was afraid of what the man would think of me? Was it 'bad' that I wanted this guys arm around me? Was it bad that I liked how it did feel to sit right next to him and the other man?
I feel like I'm getting desperate to figure out how to handle this need. On the way out of a clothing store, I had a strange urge to walk up to one of the male mannequins and starting rubbing its chest. I thought it was a little amusing at the time. Now it feels shameful and disgusting. It's a similar urge that I get toward other men.
I feel like I'm trying to white knuckle my way through this. There must be a way to get that need for touch met, without it becoming something sexual or romantic. There must be a way to give and receive affection with another man without violating any sort of gospel principles. I'm just having a hard time seeing it right now. I pray that God will help me find the answers soon. I pray I'll find the answers.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Wanting What I Can't Have 4Dec2011
Lately, I've been feeling pretty frustrated by my seeming inability to connect and relate with other men, more specifically to men who don't experience same gender attraction. I'm guessing a good majority of it is simply lies, false judgments, or fears around things that have happened in the past. My biggest fear is around one thing: touch.
My primary love language is touch. That means that I generally feel most loved when I'm getting the right kind of touch. I don't mean anything sexual or romantic. Simple things like having an arm put around my shoulder or a hug can go a long way. I judge that men in American society are afraid of showing any kind of physical affection with another man. I judge they are afraid of being labeled as 'homosexual', 'queer', 'gay', etc. I'm afraid to show any kind of physical affect, well anything more than brief contact, for the same fear of being 'discovered'. I've thought many times: I wish I could just snuggle up to with this man. I get images of a cat, a puppy, or a small child that gets to snuggle up with the person. There's nothing sexual about it in my mind, at least at first. Really, all I want is simply some loving, affecitonate touch from another man.
Now, when that desire/need/want/whatever to connect with another man via touch gets frustrated in some way, then things start to go haywire. It can get frustrated by me listening to those lies and being too afraid to ask. It can also be frustrated if the man I experience that desire toward is a man that I see only once, or perhaps it is a man that I hardly get to see at all. In one case, it's a man that I've had some past 'sexual' experiences with, and has requested that we not spend time together. When the frustration sets in, the craving for the touch doesn't go away, instead it starts to go haywire. It could become a sexual idea. I could have fantasies about it. I could end up going numb or distant from my need for touch. Basically, it's not very healthy for me.
Am I wanting something that I just can't have? I've thought many times that the other gender attracted men around me just aren't equipped to give me what I want/need/desire. I've consigned myself to accepting the what men are able to give me.
Now, I'm not saying that I have no opportunities at all for healthy touch. It seems to primary come from two sources: men who also experience same gender attraction and children (I know a little girl that loves to have snuggle time with me). I sometimes feel like I'm ungrateful for the opportunites for healthy touch that I do get, because I find myself wanting/longing for something more, something else.
Well, tonight I got pretty desperate for some kind of 'cuddle buddy' so I decided to do a Google Search on it. That's when I found this post by a man (I stole the title of the post for this blog post):
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Want-A-Cuddle-Buddy/1445353
I was surprised that there was a man who was sexually attracted to women, but who also liked to have 'cuddle time' with other men, a straight man who's love language was touch, but wasn't weirded out by touching other men. I was blown away by the story. As I laid down to sleep. I came to feel that maybe it was the Lord's way of saying 'Hey, I know what you need. Have hope. There are men like that out there.' I remember praying that I could somehow find someone like that.
I hope the Lord answers my prayer. Really, the whole touch/cuddle desire of mine has very little to do with sex. It's all about wanting to feel loved and affirmed by another man. Although sometimes it does feel like I want something that I can't have. Can't have because it's "against the gospel" or can't have because I haven't found the right man to do that with. I'll try to have hope. I just wish it didn't take so long for some prayers to be answered.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Spirit Void Zone 28Nov2011
I've been feeling kind of odd the last few weeks. I'm having a hard time describing it, because it's more of a lack of feeling more than anything. I've haven't been feeling many strong emotions lately, and sometimes only the faintest of emotions. I've also had a hard time feeling the presence of the spirit. I'm very confused by that last part. I recently started to partake of the sacrament again. I expected to be able to feel the spirit more strongly. It seemed to me like many months ago I could simply be still and feel the gentle warmth of the spirit in my heart. Now, it feels very faint. In church yesterday, I could only faintly feel the spirit. I could feel it influencing my mind at times, giving me insight into what was going on. I missed the feeling of warmth, the happiness, the peace. Instead I just simply felt...there. It didn't feel like emptiness. It didn't feel like sadness. It just...didn't feel at all.
At the same time, I've had a pretty bad headaches about once a week for the last few weeks. The kind where I need to take pain reliever and rest to make them go away. Saturday I had one start. Sunday it continued. Today, I still can feel it on the left side of my head, like someone is trying to drive a nail into my temple. It's been accompanied by exhaustion and this strange lack of emotion. Part of me is worried that maybe I have some kind of medical condition that could be affecting my emotions/thought processes. Last night, I was trying to read "In Quiet Desperation" and just couldn't focus on the words. I couldn't feel them. I couldn't relate to them. Frantically, I grabbed my scriptures and opened them up randomly. I tried to read, but it was like the words simply were slipping through my mind. I couldn't feel any kind of response to the words. Instead I closed the scriptures and lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I felt some sadness, and tried to cry. Only a few tears trickled out.
I am feelings something right now. The faintest traces of fear. Fear that I may have some kind of tumor. Fear that I may be falling into a depression of sorts. Fear that I'm blocking out some kind of emotional trauma. Fear that I may have offended the spirit one too many times, and now it will never come back. Fear that I've somehow slipped into some kind of mystical 'spiritual void' zone, where the spirit is blocked. Although, the lack of spirit could be the fact that I've simply desynced from it. Lack of scripture study and weak prayers may have caused me to forget how the Holy Spirit feels. Either that, or this is some kind of strange trial. I just wish I understood what is going on so that I can fix it.
Possible causes: I have been through a pretty emotionally stressful year. I had a friendship that became codependent. I had to painfully back away from that friend. I went to the New Warrior Training Adventure, which was really helpful, yet had the work I did there criticized on the way home. That seemed to undo everything I did do there. I did another New Warrior event that was helpful. I came dangerously close to doing something that I would regret with another friend. There's been the fear over what will happen when my current contract ends. There's been the strange chest pain that was frightening. And now this weird headache. Possibly, my heart has checked out. Perhaps feeling emotions has become so much, that I've subconsciously decided to not feel anymore.
Or perhaps I've entered some strange layer of hell, the layer where no one feels anything at all. That is a frightening thought.
At the same time, I've had a pretty bad headaches about once a week for the last few weeks. The kind where I need to take pain reliever and rest to make them go away. Saturday I had one start. Sunday it continued. Today, I still can feel it on the left side of my head, like someone is trying to drive a nail into my temple. It's been accompanied by exhaustion and this strange lack of emotion. Part of me is worried that maybe I have some kind of medical condition that could be affecting my emotions/thought processes. Last night, I was trying to read "In Quiet Desperation" and just couldn't focus on the words. I couldn't feel them. I couldn't relate to them. Frantically, I grabbed my scriptures and opened them up randomly. I tried to read, but it was like the words simply were slipping through my mind. I couldn't feel any kind of response to the words. Instead I closed the scriptures and lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I felt some sadness, and tried to cry. Only a few tears trickled out.
I am feelings something right now. The faintest traces of fear. Fear that I may have some kind of tumor. Fear that I may be falling into a depression of sorts. Fear that I'm blocking out some kind of emotional trauma. Fear that I may have offended the spirit one too many times, and now it will never come back. Fear that I've somehow slipped into some kind of mystical 'spiritual void' zone, where the spirit is blocked. Although, the lack of spirit could be the fact that I've simply desynced from it. Lack of scripture study and weak prayers may have caused me to forget how the Holy Spirit feels. Either that, or this is some kind of strange trial. I just wish I understood what is going on so that I can fix it.
Possible causes: I have been through a pretty emotionally stressful year. I had a friendship that became codependent. I had to painfully back away from that friend. I went to the New Warrior Training Adventure, which was really helpful, yet had the work I did there criticized on the way home. That seemed to undo everything I did do there. I did another New Warrior event that was helpful. I came dangerously close to doing something that I would regret with another friend. There's been the fear over what will happen when my current contract ends. There's been the strange chest pain that was frightening. And now this weird headache. Possibly, my heart has checked out. Perhaps feeling emotions has become so much, that I've subconsciously decided to not feel anymore.
Or perhaps I've entered some strange layer of hell, the layer where no one feels anything at all. That is a frightening thought.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Self disgust
This is definitely not a post to read on an empty heart or an empty soul.
I find that I think and feel things that make me feel disgusted with myself. I look at my thoughts and actions and I often feel a sense of condemnation or demonization. I judge myself pretty harshly at times. I find that it often starts with me condemning a thought or action, and then morphing into me condemning or looking down on myself. Then, I feel disgusted at myself and any hope for changing goes out the window.
There are a lot of things I can think of that cause this reaction in me. Some of them could possible be innocent. Some of them could deserve some changes. Others possibly are sinful. I'm honestly so close to them, and so accustomed to condemning then, that I throw them all into the sinful bucket just to make things simpler. Then I begin feeling ashamed of them. I tell myself that if the people around me "really knew" what I was thinking or feeling, then they wouldn't want to be around me. They would hate me, despise me, fear me, and ultimately, they would be disgusted with me like I am disgusted with myself.
I will share a few of them here.
I feel disgusted that I will sometimes choose whether or not to do something with a friend based on the fact of how entertaining it is. I feel disgusted that I find sitting and talking boring. I feel disgusted that I always have to be 'entertained'. I feel disgusted that I choose video games/reading over interacting with people around me or getting enough sleep. I feel disgusted that the drive to play a video game is stronger than the drive to listen to people or invest in friendships. I feel disgusted that I would rather play a video game rather than go to family events.
I feel disgusted with myself when I realize that the one reason that's driving me to be someone's friend is the fact that I feel attracted to them. I don't always act on the drive, yet it is usually there. If there is an attractive man, I want to be close to that person. I get jealous if someone else seems to have a good relationship with them be it joking, talking, or just seeming to enjoy each others presence. I feel disgusted that I'm so jealous at that. I feel disgusted if I see a picture of an attractive man, and I immediately want to know the person or be their "best friend".
I feel disgusted with myself with how often and how much I want touch. I feel disgusted that it's not only that I want touch, but that I want touch from men I feel attracted to. I feel disgusted that if a man who doesn't fall into the "I'm attracted to you" category offers touch in some way, it feels funny, or I feel myself cringe inside while receiving it or it doesn't quite 'hit the spot' so to speak. I feel disgusted that I see attractive men at work, out in public, wherever, and I find myself wondering what it would be like snuggled up to the man which his arm around me, or how it would feel if I were to give him a hug, or how it would feel if rubbed my shoulders, or whatever else it is. I feel disgusted that I fantasize about being touched by attractive men. I feel disgusted that those fantasies can go sexual so quickly. I often think that if the man knew I wanted whatever kind of touch it is I happen to be thinking of at the moment, that the man would withdraw from me or be afraid from me. The fear of being rejected over it only serves to heighten my shame at the time.
I feel disgusted with myself that I like looking at pornography or pornographic material. I feel disgusted when I find myself endlessly looking through pictures of an attractive man trying to find a picture where he's shirtless. I feel disgusted when I find myself imaging what a man would look like with his shirt off. I feel disgusted that I quickly scan a new man's body to find out if I'm attracted to them or not. I feel disgusted that I like the way a man's body looks.
I feel disgusted that I masturbate. I feel disgusted with the thoughts that lead me up to it. I even feel disgusted with the feelings of tiredness or loneliness that prompt the temptation to masturbate. I feel disgusted with myself during and afterward for how I feel or what I'm thinking about. I feel deeply ashamed about the fact that I do it.
I feel disgusted that I don't like everyone, or even worse, that there are people that I don't like. There are some people that I wish wouldn't interact with me, or that they would interact with me very rarely. I feel disgusted that I feel that way. I feel disgusted that I don't have the courage to step up and tell them to back off. When I do step up and express my wants, in whatever way I can, I feel disgusted that I did so.
I feel disgusted that I feel lonely and unloved, even though I am surrounded by people who love me. I have a family that loves me. I know it. I can see it in their actions and their words. My father has expressed many times how he and my mother love me. Yet, I feel disgusted that I feel empty inside when he says that. I feel disgusted that I'm so numb to the love that I craved so much growing up. I feel disgusted that I am so detached from the people around me.
I feel disgusted that I struggle so often with the simple spiritual things. I feel disgusted that I often forget to pray or study my scriptures. I feel disgusted that I forget about fasting. I feel disgusted that I resent going to church. I feel disgusted that when I go to church, all I can think about is my loneliness and my despair. I feel disgusted that I am too afraid to try to befriend the men in the ward. I feel disgusted that I'm not a regular home teacher and that I hardly know the names of the people I home teach currently. I feel disgusted at how easily I forget that I know and have felt that God loves me. I feel disgusted on how easily I abandon faith or hope when times get rough. I feel disgusted that I always think I have to do things 'on my own' without God's help or with help from anyone else.
Ultimately, I feel disgusted for who I am, how I feel, what I think about, what I do, and what I say.
I feel disgusted that I've worked on overcoming some of these things, but that they still come back. That I'm still detached. That I still don't know how to set clear boundaries. That I still feel so angry or lonely.
I hope by continuing to write this blog, I can learn more about myself. I hope that I can share my struggles. Hopefully it will help all of you that may feel similar things to me. I hope that by sharing this I can overcome the shame I feel. I hope that I can possibly learn to allow the people I love in closer into my life where I can feel their love and I can truly love them in return. Yet, as long as I continue to feel disgusted with myself, I will continue to struggle with the loneliness and anger that comes with it.
I find that I think and feel things that make me feel disgusted with myself. I look at my thoughts and actions and I often feel a sense of condemnation or demonization. I judge myself pretty harshly at times. I find that it often starts with me condemning a thought or action, and then morphing into me condemning or looking down on myself. Then, I feel disgusted at myself and any hope for changing goes out the window.
There are a lot of things I can think of that cause this reaction in me. Some of them could possible be innocent. Some of them could deserve some changes. Others possibly are sinful. I'm honestly so close to them, and so accustomed to condemning then, that I throw them all into the sinful bucket just to make things simpler. Then I begin feeling ashamed of them. I tell myself that if the people around me "really knew" what I was thinking or feeling, then they wouldn't want to be around me. They would hate me, despise me, fear me, and ultimately, they would be disgusted with me like I am disgusted with myself.
I will share a few of them here.
I feel disgusted that I will sometimes choose whether or not to do something with a friend based on the fact of how entertaining it is. I feel disgusted that I find sitting and talking boring. I feel disgusted that I always have to be 'entertained'. I feel disgusted that I choose video games/reading over interacting with people around me or getting enough sleep. I feel disgusted that the drive to play a video game is stronger than the drive to listen to people or invest in friendships. I feel disgusted that I would rather play a video game rather than go to family events.
I feel disgusted with myself when I realize that the one reason that's driving me to be someone's friend is the fact that I feel attracted to them. I don't always act on the drive, yet it is usually there. If there is an attractive man, I want to be close to that person. I get jealous if someone else seems to have a good relationship with them be it joking, talking, or just seeming to enjoy each others presence. I feel disgusted that I'm so jealous at that. I feel disgusted if I see a picture of an attractive man, and I immediately want to know the person or be their "best friend".
I feel disgusted with myself with how often and how much I want touch. I feel disgusted that it's not only that I want touch, but that I want touch from men I feel attracted to. I feel disgusted that if a man who doesn't fall into the "I'm attracted to you" category offers touch in some way, it feels funny, or I feel myself cringe inside while receiving it or it doesn't quite 'hit the spot' so to speak. I feel disgusted that I see attractive men at work, out in public, wherever, and I find myself wondering what it would be like snuggled up to the man which his arm around me, or how it would feel if I were to give him a hug, or how it would feel if rubbed my shoulders, or whatever else it is. I feel disgusted that I fantasize about being touched by attractive men. I feel disgusted that those fantasies can go sexual so quickly. I often think that if the man knew I wanted whatever kind of touch it is I happen to be thinking of at the moment, that the man would withdraw from me or be afraid from me. The fear of being rejected over it only serves to heighten my shame at the time.
I feel disgusted with myself that I like looking at pornography or pornographic material. I feel disgusted when I find myself endlessly looking through pictures of an attractive man trying to find a picture where he's shirtless. I feel disgusted when I find myself imaging what a man would look like with his shirt off. I feel disgusted that I quickly scan a new man's body to find out if I'm attracted to them or not. I feel disgusted that I like the way a man's body looks.
I feel disgusted that I masturbate. I feel disgusted with the thoughts that lead me up to it. I even feel disgusted with the feelings of tiredness or loneliness that prompt the temptation to masturbate. I feel disgusted with myself during and afterward for how I feel or what I'm thinking about. I feel deeply ashamed about the fact that I do it.
I feel disgusted that I don't like everyone, or even worse, that there are people that I don't like. There are some people that I wish wouldn't interact with me, or that they would interact with me very rarely. I feel disgusted that I feel that way. I feel disgusted that I don't have the courage to step up and tell them to back off. When I do step up and express my wants, in whatever way I can, I feel disgusted that I did so.
I feel disgusted that I feel lonely and unloved, even though I am surrounded by people who love me. I have a family that loves me. I know it. I can see it in their actions and their words. My father has expressed many times how he and my mother love me. Yet, I feel disgusted that I feel empty inside when he says that. I feel disgusted that I'm so numb to the love that I craved so much growing up. I feel disgusted that I am so detached from the people around me.
I feel disgusted that I struggle so often with the simple spiritual things. I feel disgusted that I often forget to pray or study my scriptures. I feel disgusted that I forget about fasting. I feel disgusted that I resent going to church. I feel disgusted that when I go to church, all I can think about is my loneliness and my despair. I feel disgusted that I am too afraid to try to befriend the men in the ward. I feel disgusted that I'm not a regular home teacher and that I hardly know the names of the people I home teach currently. I feel disgusted at how easily I forget that I know and have felt that God loves me. I feel disgusted on how easily I abandon faith or hope when times get rough. I feel disgusted that I always think I have to do things 'on my own' without God's help or with help from anyone else.
Ultimately, I feel disgusted for who I am, how I feel, what I think about, what I do, and what I say.
I feel disgusted that I've worked on overcoming some of these things, but that they still come back. That I'm still detached. That I still don't know how to set clear boundaries. That I still feel so angry or lonely.
I hope by continuing to write this blog, I can learn more about myself. I hope that I can share my struggles. Hopefully it will help all of you that may feel similar things to me. I hope that by sharing this I can overcome the shame I feel. I hope that I can possibly learn to allow the people I love in closer into my life where I can feel their love and I can truly love them in return. Yet, as long as I continue to feel disgusted with myself, I will continue to struggle with the loneliness and anger that comes with it.
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