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.

Music That Speaks To Me - Better Than A Hallelujah by Amy Grant

I was driving in this morning, and this song came to play on the radio.  Lately, I've been struggling a lot with my faith.  I've adopted a somewhat apathetic approach toward the church, partially because I've felt misunderstood in something.  I had made a risk, a misguided attempt to make things 'work' that fell outside of the lines of the gospel.  Many times when I've shared it, I felt like I didn't get a chance to fully explain what had been going on or why I did what  I did.

That aside, I've felt a lot of anger, rebelliousness, and bitterness.  I'm surprised that I still go to church each week sometimes.  I've actually felt a lot less stress about life and my attractions in general.  I don't know if that's related to my general sense of apathy toward the church.  On the other hand, I've felt a better sense of connection toward my ward.  I don't feel as much shame being around the other elder's in the quorum.  I'm really excited about a new calling that I have to teach in the Elder's Quorum.

This morning, I also had a strange dream.  I was at some kind of part or gathering.  A man was speaking.  I remember I found him somewhat attractive and that he was a straight (opposite gender attraction) person.  I remember him stating that he didn't mind touching and holding men.  I remember feeling very drawn to that.  Mostly because it was something that I've felt cravings for in the past.  Some kind of safe, nonsexual connection with another man.  In the dream, I never mustered up the courage to go ask the man if he would be willing to hold me.

This song is about those prayers that come from the bitter, broken, or hurt places of people's lives and hearts.  I think it's a beautiful song, reminding me that Heavenly Father loves to hear about my misery as well as my joy.  He wants to hear about my heartache and what makes my heart whole.  In short, He wants to hear everything I have to say to Him, because He loves me.

Lyrics:

God loves a lullaby 
In a mother's tears in the dead of night 
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes. 
God loves the drunkard's cry, 
The soldiers plea not to let him die 
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes. 


We pour out our miseries 
God just hears a melody 
Beautiful the mess we are 
The honest cries of breaking hearts 
Are better than a Hallelujah. 


The woman holding on for life, 
The dying man giving up the fight 
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes 
Tears of shame for what's been done, 
The silence when the words won't come 
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes. 


We pour out our miseries 
God just hears a melody 
Beautiful the mess we are 
The honest cries of breaking hearts 
Are better than a Hallelujah.


Better than a church bell ringing, 
Better than a choir singing out, singing out.


We pour out our miseries 
God just hears a melody 
Beautiful the mess we are 
The honest cries of breaking hearts 
Are better than a Hallelujah.


We pour out our miseries 
God just hears a melody 
Beautiful the mess we are 
The honest cries of breaking hearts 
Are better than a Hallelujah.


Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
Better than a Hallelujah
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
[From http://www.klove.com/music/artists/amy-grant/songs/better-than-a-hallelujah-lyrics.aspx]

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!

A Glimpse Into The Madness 27Feb2012

It's 11:30.  Normally, I'd be sound asleep by now.  Ironically, I had all the electronics and I was pleasantly reading a book and texting a friend of mine.  Oddly, our conversation stirred up some very deep, painful issues of mine.  To help me sleep, I'm going to be blogging about it here.

For the past eight months, I feel like I've been slipping slowly into a kind of madness or into a state of numbness where I don't feel anything.  I've found myself in a frenzy, moving from one activity to the other, like I was trying to run away from something.  Other times, I found me trying to bury myself in video games, or books to read, or endless Facebook updates, trying to ignore or numb away something I'd been feeling.  Sometimes I've turned to more potent numbing agents, like masturbation.  All of this to try to avoid feeling one thing.

Pain.

Working backward from right now, where I do feel the pain and the sadness.  I can see that my actions lately have made me feel like I'm slippy closer and closer toward acting out sexually with another man.  I can see that I've been putting myself into increasingly more compromising situations.  The cycle is very slow, generally every few months.  I feel like I've been getting very close to a breaking point of sorts.

The root cause? Last year I was in a very close friendship.  I shared a lot with this other man.  I struggled with having romantic feelings on and off.  I started to become very overdependent on him for getting my emotional needs met.  To make a long, painful story short, the friendship eventually fell apart and I had to distance myself from him.

Since then, I don't think I've ever fully recovered from it.  I've withdrawn and isolated my heart to being hurt further.  I've taken steps to numb myself from the pain, which only seems to make the pain feel even worse.  I've noticed that it's been difficult to feel like I have and friends, even friends that are close.  I've felt like there is no one that I can trust.  I don't even feel like I can trust myself, or my own motives.  I feel like I've been playing more and more with fire, and that eventually I'm going to get burned by it, unless I can find another solution.

Pain has been a reoccurring companion for me in my life.  I remember crying myself to sleep at nights when I was younger because I didn't feel like anyone liked me and that I didn't have any friends.  The feeling has continued with me as I've grown older.  I realize that my perceptions are horrifically tainted and twisted by the beliefs I have about myself: that I am unlovable, and not worth the notice of others.  Sadly, I've turned this belief against others.  Many times, a friendship has taken root in my heart, only to later be blasted by my anger and by my inability to love the other person.  I've often felt like my heart was a lonely, desolate place where no one else was.  Many times, it's been like Tumm has rampaged and destroyed everything, only to ultimately curl up in a ball in the center of the blast radius and go completely numb.  I honestly feel like the cycle of destruction and attempted rebirth has gone on far too long in my life.  It would be nice for a friendship to grow, become strong, and stay alive in my heart.  Sometimes I think my heart just isn't fertile enough for it.  I've always thought that friendships were hard to form.  Now I'm beginning to think I may be the difficult person to be a friend with.

The pain is often frustrating for me.  I have tried to pray many times for it to be removed.  I've even tried to surrender it.  I feel like I need to give up on both.  Neither has made the pain stop.  I find myself praying increasingly more in order to have the strength to bear the pain I've been given to bear.

At the root of the madness are number of competing and fighting ideas and desires.  On one hand, there is a part of me that so desperately wants to be loved.  On another, there is a part that wants to be free from pain and suffering and that doesn't want to hurt any more.  The part that desires freedom from pain says that in order to have love, I will have to open up and risk being hurt.  The same part decides to keep me guarded and isolate from others.  The other part cries out so desperately to feel loved that it often comes out in ways I can't control.  Sometimes that part of me starts to listen to the lie that the only way I will be loved is if I am loved sexually by another.

I can see but one path that may lead me back to sanity.  I have many safe places to embrace vulnerability and let my pain be shown.  Perhaps there, I can finally step into my pain more fully, and allow myself to feel truly loved again.

The Woman In Black - Forgiveness

I just barely got back from watching "The Woman In Black".  I really don't plan on reviewing movies in this blog post, but I want to share some brief plot points.  I'll be hiding the next paragraph in a nice 'anti-spoiler' tag.  If you don't mind being spoiled, or have seen the movie, you can highlight the text by using your mouse.  Hitting Ctrl-A also works.  If this is a foreign language, see your nearest computer geek for assistance.

The main plot point for "The Woman In Black" is about a woman, Jannette.  Jannette is deemed to be mentally unstable, and her son is taken away from her by her sister.  Sometime later, the son is travelling with his adopted parents and dies in a tragic accident: their carriage sinks in the mud. Jannette angrily declares that she will never forgive her sister, and that her sister never tried to save her son.  Jannette hangs herself, and comes back as a ghost in black.  Whenever someone visits her house, she kills a child in the local village.  The main character thinks he resolves the issue by finding and returning Janette's son's body to Janette's grave, but ghost has already sworn that she will 'never forgive'.

I found it interesting that forgiveness, or the inability to forgive, played a large part in the movie.  As I drove home, I started to think about two people that I judge I have hurt pretty deeply.  No matter how much time has passed, I always feel like I want to tell them 'I'm sorry'.  I'm sorry that things didn't turn out.  I'm sorry I wasn't in the right place to make our relationship work out.  One of these people is a girl that I dated in college.  The other is a man that I called my best friend for awhile.  With the girl, I kept dating her, expecting some kind of spark to happen in me, and for me to become attracted to her.  I'd rather not go into the other story, far too personal and painful.

Anyways, as I drove home, I felt a great deal of pain.  I realized that I was still struggling to forgive myself for it.  On another note, I also realized I still have a lot of anger due to the incidents directed toward the other people.  That probably extends from the pain of not being able to forgive myself.  Honestly, I feel like a man divided.  Instead of there being two equal pieces, I end up with two shadows.  The scene in my head almost plays out like a scene from a play.

One part of me lie curled in a ball, trying to numb everything out.  He rocks and tries to comfort himself.  He says 'I'm sorry' over and over.  He also says 'I can never forgive myself for what I've done'.  In reality, he is the innocent one.  Standing over him is Tumm.  Tumm is dressed in black, as usual, with blood on his hands.  He is the real one at fault in the situation.  Tumm's duty is to draw boundaries, enforce them, and to understand what is going on with the other part of me, which is lying huddled on the ground.  Tumm is pointing his finger, angrily, at me and at the people around me.  He says 'It's all your fault!'.  He points at me and says 'I can never forgive you.  You're worthless.  It's all your fault.'

As silly as it sounds, writing it out like that helps me to gain insight into what is going on, and how I can figure out how to heal myself.  Tumm needs to accept the fact that he was also responsible for my actions.  The other part needs to know that he didn't know what was going on, and that he was under a delusion of sorts.  It's like I need to realize I'm both guilty and innocent at the same time.  And ultimately, I need to forgive myself to find a sense of closure.

As an interesting irony, tomorrow is Valentine's day.  On Valentine's day, four years ago, that girl sent me a note and asked me to a movie.  That was the beginning of our dating relationship.

On a lighter note, I'm glad I was able to walk out of a horror movie with most of my sanity intact.  The last horror movie I walked out of, I was terrified of the dark all the way home and for a few days afterward.  The only side effects this movie had were: 1) my eyes constantly looking for the woman in black, either in windows, cars, down hallways, etc 2) me being terrified about the children I live with.

Oh, on another note, I don't recommend watching "The Woman In Black" if you have small children, especially if you're already pretty sensitive to horror movies.  That being said, I will close up this blog post and get some sleep.

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.

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.

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

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.

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:

• 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

That was the list of memories of shame that I had from this group.  As a kid, these were some of the messages that I got:

• 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.

At some point early in my life, I decided that people didn't care about me.  I must have started ignoring any attempts by people around me to love and care about me.  Even if I was able to perceive it, I would eventually rationalize it away.  In short, I was detached from the people around me.  I figured, if they don't care about me, why should I care about them?  I decided to go off and live in a fantasy world.  At the same time, I became a 'people pleaser'.  I did whatever it took to make people leave me alone.  I would satisfy people and try not to draw attention to myself.  I did my best in school for fear of 'doing things wrong'.  I remember being mortified the first time I was late to a class in my life.


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.

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!

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.

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.

Sanity Loss 4Nov2011

I was introduced this year to a board game called Arkham Horror.  It's a board game based off the H.P. Lovecraft universe.  Characters in the game have both health and sanity.  Health loss makes sense.  People get hurt when they go on adventures.  What about the sanity loss?

In the H.P. Lovecraft world, there are monsters that are so horrific or so alien, that looking at them assaults the very person's sanity, slowly driving them insane.  Also, horrific events occur that challenge the character's sanity.

The sanity loss mechanic is definitely an interesting one.  It's also used in video games like Amnesia, Penunmbra, and Call of Cthulu.  When the characters in those games are exposed to various horrific things, then they will lose sanity.  There are various effects of the sanity loss including blurred vision, seeing things that aren't there, hearing things that aren't there, etc.  Basically, they go crazy.

Personally, I think the whole thing is fun, entertaining, and at times, horrific.  I think it adds a nice touch to games.  The ability for a game creator to invoke fear in a person is an art.  I'm not talking about being startled.  I'm talking about fear like paranoia and panic.  The kind of fear that leaves me feeling unsettled, even after it's intensity has gone down.

It reminds me of the last time I played Resident Evil 5 with a friend.  On a related note, I never play Resident Evil 5 by myself because the game is creepy.  As we moved through an underground facility, we kept getting glimpses of an odd creature.  It usually was just moving out of view, climbing on the walls and ceilings.  We found documents describing something called a 'Licker'.  A creature with an abnormally long tongue that was blind.  It stalked its prey relying on its other overdeveloped senses.

We continued on through the facility.  I was already feeling the affects of adrenaline, because I remembered fighting these creatures on a previous play-through of the game.  After passing through a section with cages full of live animals, I saw a section with some glass.  There were two Lickers inside.  They immediately broke the glass, and one of them started slowly advancing on me.  Nervous, but sure I could sneak around the creature.  I slowly backed away, thinking I could loop around and completely avoid fighting the creature.

I forgot something as I finished the loop.  The other creature.  Out of nowhere, the creature leaped at me.  I screamed, and directed my character to run to the exit.  Unfortunately, the exit was a door that required a few seconds to crank open.  Me and my friend were trapped.

The fight was a blur.  I vaguely remember firing off the most powerful weapons I had, running around, yelling and laughing hysterically.  When it was over, I was at the door, opening it as fast as I could, laughing my head off like a mad man.

The question is, had I lost sanity?  Sanity is the ability to think and act rationally.  Because my fear had overpowered me, I had, in a sense, gone temporarily insane.  Once the fear started to dissipate, I still felt unsettled and jumpy.  In fact, when I left my friends house, I looked up and checked to make sure there were no monsters about to jump me from above.

While playing a Dungeons and Dragons game, one of my characters fell into a cage of sorts.  While he was trying to get back up, he heard the approach of something.  It sounded like footsteps, and jangling keys.  I was feeling scared.  The creature did show up, and look at me.  The way the DM did it, only served to heighten my fear.

One night I was coming home and walking up the stairs to my condo when I heard a strange noise.  It sounded like chains jingling.  The sound reminded some part of me of the sound of those keys jangling.  I felt a sense of panic as I hastily searched for my key, unlocked the door, and darted inside.  I half expected something to start pounding on the door after I locked it behind me.

Today at work, I had another experience where it felt like I loss some of my sanity.  A man came over to visit with one of my co-workers, who wasn't at her desk.  One of the guys next to me started to talk to man, who is apparently studying to become a paramedic.  The things the guy was talking about left me feeling unsettled and scared.

When I got up to use the restroom, I noticed that things seemed...odd.  The light seemed to bright.  Things seemed to intense.  I felt a vague sense of paranoia.  My mind kept projecting half-ghostly images onto blank surfaces.  The man next to me at the urinal scared me, although he did nothing.  When I realized what was going on, I said that I had suffered some 'sanity loss'.

On a related note, last night I had to drive home really late.  When I get really tired, and drive, my eyes will start playing tricks on me.  Sometimes, they blur and refuse to focus for a few moments.  Other times, it looks like something is there, in the corner of my eye.  When I go to look at it, it's gone.  Honestly, it probably is exhaustion.  Needless to say, the experience is unsettling.

I've had many experiences in my life that have left me feeling horrified.  There's been experiences where I've been paralyzed by fear before, and I lose the ability to think rationally.  Sometimes I wonder if I've lost something permanently in those experiences.  Sometimes I wonder if I've gone a little more crazy in the head each time one of those happens.

Perhaps a visit with the therapist is in order, at least, if the voices start talking to me.