The Worth of Tools

This is not an easy post for me to write.  What I'm going to write about myself has me feeling very exposed and vulnerable, even before I write it.  I plan on sharing something that is very personal; something that perhaps hits right at the core of the beliefs that I have about myself, other people, and Heavenly Father.

I was having a conversation with a friend a few weeks ago and he referred to himself as being a 'tool'.  My first impulse was to deny the fact that he was a 'tool', and then I realized that I really didn't know what the word meant.  I decided to do an internet search that gave me some enlightenment.  Based on Urban Dictionary, a 'tool' is a person who can't think or make decisions for themselves, a person who is used by other people (knowingly or not), a person who relies on the judgement and approval of others, a person that is wanted solely for what they can do (rather than being liked), etc.  After another discussion with another friend, the idea really solidified in my head.

I came to two very scary realizations: I have a tendency to use other people, and the tendency to let other people use me.  Even with those realizations, I had no idea why I engaged in that kind of thinking or behavior (most of the 'using' was in my head and didn't go much further).  

Yesterday, I had another insight that hit my like stray asteroid: my sense of self worth is tied to what I can do.  I can remember countless times being among groups of people and feeling useless because we weren't 'doing' anything.  I was simply sitting there, possibly talking.  In other situations, I've felt like I've showed up, done some kind of work/chore, and then felt like I should leave because my value in the situation was gone because I didn't have anything further to do.  On the flip side, I've felt guilty in some friendships because the other person seems to be 'doing' so much and contributing so much, and I don't feel like I'm giving anything back.  Sometimes I feel like I interact with people simply for what they can do to me.  It honestly makes me feel sick inside.

What is the worth of a tool?  A tool is useful so long as it can do something useful.  If a tool becomes broken, then it is discarded and another is procured to take its place.  There isn't any use to keeping around a broken tool, unless it can be fixed.

This post seems to be in stark contrast with another recent post of mine where I spoke about the worth of a soul (Paradoxes).  It's honestly makes me feel saddened, angry, and sick that I've been thinking like this.  I've been thinking like this for years so it will be something for me to keep an eye on.  

I remember hearing a statement like the following: "We are commanded to love people and use objects.  Problems occur when that gets reversed and we love objects and use people".  I honestly feel like I am very guilty of doing the latter over the former.  I wonder, how different would life be if I had a more accurate view of my worth?  What if I thought my worth could never change?  I would probably take more risks.  I would stand up for myself and say 'no' to people that would want to use me.  I would also be more loving and giving to other people.  I would see other people as people.  I would see that other people have the same great worth that I do.

Right now, I would like to adopt some better views and thoughts about myself, and I know they will spread to other people given enough time.  I want to give myself some more positive 'self-talk':

• I am of great worth
• I am worthy of love and connection
• My worth is constant and unchangeable

I honestly feel that those things are true.  It's when I forget their truth that my tendency to 'use and be used' starts to come across.

Thank you for reading.

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.

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.

Blood & Darkness

I'm having a hard time coming up with a title for this post.  I think it's mostly a random collection of thoughts that I've been having lately.

First, I'm very grateful for a number of things that are happening in my life. I feel like I'm facing and trying to root out some deep set lies I've told myself.  I've also started to feel again the love that Heavenly Father has for me.  Also, I've had some really good hugs lately.  It seems it's been awhile since hugging has felt good for me.

On another hand, life has been a struggle.  I've been facing loneliness.  I've been struggling with sinning and giving in to temptation.  Even thought I'm blessed with a degree of physical agility and balance, it feels like I'm very clumsy with relationships.

This morning, I was thinking about a number of different friendships that have changed 'for the worse' in my opinion.  I also thought of a number of friendships that just didn't work out for me.  I thought that I was the one responsible for all of it.  The thought 'I ruin everything!' entered into my mind.  That's when a second voice started.  It said 'Sure, you may ruin things, but that's what the Atonement is for.  It's to fix things'.  Angrily I thought to myself 'That's no excuse!'  That's when the voice replied 'It's not an excuse; it's a mercy'.  I've been pondering on that idea for a long time.  The fact that I can repent is a mercy granted to me.  I may struggle with the same sins, the same mistakes over and over again.  That's fine.  I'm not perfect.  Each time I repent doesn't have to be the ultimate final time to find mercy.

There's another thing I am grateful for.  I have about 6 different CDs of music in my car, and I've set the CD player to random.  Lately, it's been playing the Bayonetta CD far more than all of the other ones.  I finally took the time last night to finalize my own personal mix of the songs I enjoyed the most.  I put it in the car this morning.  When the CD started playing, the first song it played was 'Blood & Darkness'.  In the past when the song had played, I could only think of what was going on in that game when the song was playing.  It was the final battle between Bayonetta and another witch named Jeanne.  It always seemed to be about their struggle.  Oddly, when the music was playing, it felt like it was more about my struggle in life.  It feels like I'm there fighting against the Darkness of life.  Where does the Blood come in?  The Blood could easily represent the blood of the Lamb that was spilled for me.  It can represent the power of the Atonement that fights on my side against the darkness.  I am once again amazed at how gospel truths can show up nearly anywhere if I look hard enough for them.

Maybe I do make mistakes.  Maybe I have broken some good friendships.  Maybe I did push too far in a few relationships.  The Atonement is there to heal me, to bind up my wounds, and give me the power to fight against the evil of the world.  I'm not alone in this.  None of us are alone in this.

I will be writing up a post about the song 'Blood & Darkness' as well as a few other from the Bayonetta soundtrack that I've liked.  When it's written, it will be linked here.

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.

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!

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:

• 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'.