Many times when I'm talking to people they ask me a common question "Are you out?" The answer, I've found is 'kind of'. My family knows about me, a small handful of friends know about me, anyone who reads this blog knows about me, but I still don't feel like I'm 'out'. What drives that? Honestly, I'm still terrified of what people would think about me at work or at church (sometimes they feel like one and the same).
I'm still scared to tell people about me. I'm really worried about what could happen at work or church. Would people treat me differently? Would I get persecuted? Would I get rejected? Would there be even less interaction between people? Even just the attractions is the tip of the iceberg to what goes on. All sorts of thoughts from innocent to sinful swirl through my head. What if they knew?
Many times it makes think of some lyrics from Frozen's "Let It Go". "Don't let them in. Don't let them see." Many times I keep myself withdrawn from other people. I'm afraid what would happen if I let them in close. From the church community, I fear their judgement of some of the thoughts, feelings, wants, and needs I'm trying to grapple with and understand. From the gay community, it's a different set of fears. I'm afraid of their judgement of me choosing not to act on the sexual feelings I have toward men. Many times I've referred to myself as a 'non practicing gay'.
To speak further on that frustration, physical touch deprivation is something that frequently bothers me. It's a big challenge. I could go to church and ask for it from other members of the church. I fear they either wouldn't understand, or they wouldn't be willing. Granted, the latter isn't nearly as bad as the former. If I go to the gay community, it's a different set of challenges.
Me: "I like to cuddle."
Guy: "Cuddling leads to sex."
Me: "I don't want sex."
Guy: "Not interested."
Me: :(
Funny how the 'Cuddling = Sex' formula can show up anywhere. It even shows up in my mind, no matter how much I hate it. Personally I like how Cuddle Parties (http://www.cuddleparty.com/) approach the problem. They set out clear boundaries to keep everyone safe. The events are strictly non-sexual. Somehow I wish I could find a sense of safety with other men in my life.
I keep wondering, hoping, wishing that one day I'll find some people that may understand that (and are available for it). Sometimes all I want is a hug. Sometimes it's just some strong arms to shelter me from the storms or a shoulder to rest my head on.
It's more than just the touch. Touch without any kind of emotional connection is empty. Often times, it's led me to situations and encounters that I've regretted later. The emotional connection with another person is very difficult for me. I know that I isolate. I know I have trouble reaching out and connecting. (Personally I wonder how my medication can influence this). Maybe if I was able to develop a stable, emotional connection with another man, maybe the touch issues wouldn't be nearly so pressing. (My therapist and I have talked about how I jump to physical contact to try to form a connection).
Now that I've written this, I'm scared to hit the publish button. So many people know about me. I've found that few people really talk to me about the issue. It would be nice to have an open and honest discussion, but am I ready to confess how I feel towards other people? Am I ready to openly share some of the wants that I've had? The prospects are terrifying, but if you're reading this, then I've probably hit that Publish button anyways.
Showing posts with label Touch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Touch. Show all posts
Monday, July 14, 2014
Thursday, June 7, 2012
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.
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]
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]
Friday, June 1, 2012
If You Only Knew
Just as a disclaimer, this post is more referring to my thoughts. It isn't directed toward any one particular person. In fact, it's more directed toward many different people. Mostly, it's me just venting things that come on my mind that I feel like giving a voice.
****
If you only knew what went on inside my head. What if you knew that I was attracted to you? What if you knew that my eyes tended to wander to you? What if you knew that I liked how you look? What would you do? Would you shun me? Reject me? Be afraid and awkward around me? How I wish at times that I could just touch you and not feel uncomfortable about it, to reach out and connect and not accuse myself of acting on lust. You may never know how good it is to see you smile at me. You may never know how I felt that time you randomly came up and rubbed my shoulder, or patted me on the back. You may never know how enamored I became with you, or how secretly obsessed I became with you. If you did know, would you still act the same around me? What if you knew I wanted to hug you? Or that I enjoyed the feel of your arms around me?
If you only knew, how I felt with you around. How afraid I was because of the feelings I had for you. Or how little I cared for what you were saying, or even for you. How afraid I feel that you would found out how little I really cared for you. Or how sad I was that we couldn't connect. Or sometimes the wild fantasies I have with you in them. Or how many times I wondered what you looked like without a shirt on. Or how hesitant I am to spend time with you because of how attracted I feel for you. Or how many times I questioned if I was trying to be my friend because I liked you or because I "liked" you.
If you only knew how I felt the last time I saw you. The shock at seeing you, the grief, the fear, the rage. How I watched you to avoid you. How I felt the piercing anger of your glare. How distraught I felt afterward. How much seeing you remind me of my past and how manipulative I've been in the past and my fear that I continue to live and breathe the same lies that have cloaked from so early in my life.
If you only knew how misunderstood I felt, or the pain I've felt. Or how many times I've let my unrealistic expectations get dashed. Or how many times I haven't cared. Or how many times I've cried over you, or over me wanting to connect with you. Or how many times I've felt like shaking my fist at the heavens only to find the finger of blame to be pointing at me.
I don't know if I could ever explain in words how much it means when you contact me or talk to me. The little inside jokes. The ability to say and act how I feel is right. Understanding when I feel down. If you only knew how much more I wish I could spend time with you or talk to you.
If you only knew.
****
Thanks for reading!
****
If you only knew what went on inside my head. What if you knew that I was attracted to you? What if you knew that my eyes tended to wander to you? What if you knew that I liked how you look? What would you do? Would you shun me? Reject me? Be afraid and awkward around me? How I wish at times that I could just touch you and not feel uncomfortable about it, to reach out and connect and not accuse myself of acting on lust. You may never know how good it is to see you smile at me. You may never know how I felt that time you randomly came up and rubbed my shoulder, or patted me on the back. You may never know how enamored I became with you, or how secretly obsessed I became with you. If you did know, would you still act the same around me? What if you knew I wanted to hug you? Or that I enjoyed the feel of your arms around me?
If you only knew, how I felt with you around. How afraid I was because of the feelings I had for you. Or how little I cared for what you were saying, or even for you. How afraid I feel that you would found out how little I really cared for you. Or how sad I was that we couldn't connect. Or sometimes the wild fantasies I have with you in them. Or how many times I wondered what you looked like without a shirt on. Or how hesitant I am to spend time with you because of how attracted I feel for you. Or how many times I questioned if I was trying to be my friend because I liked you or because I "liked" you.
If you only knew how I felt the last time I saw you. The shock at seeing you, the grief, the fear, the rage. How I watched you to avoid you. How I felt the piercing anger of your glare. How distraught I felt afterward. How much seeing you remind me of my past and how manipulative I've been in the past and my fear that I continue to live and breathe the same lies that have cloaked from so early in my life.
If you only knew how misunderstood I felt, or the pain I've felt. Or how many times I've let my unrealistic expectations get dashed. Or how many times I haven't cared. Or how many times I've cried over you, or over me wanting to connect with you. Or how many times I've felt like shaking my fist at the heavens only to find the finger of blame to be pointing at me.
I don't know if I could ever explain in words how much it means when you contact me or talk to me. The little inside jokes. The ability to say and act how I feel is right. Understanding when I feel down. If you only knew how much more I wish I could spend time with you or talk to you.
If you only knew.
****
Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Insight 28Mar2012
It's been a pretty interest past week for me. I've been gaining a lot of interesting insights into me and life in general. Some of them were shared in the 'Worth of Tools' post I made last week. Here's a list of some more that I've gotten.
In talking with my sister:
Repentance is more than changing behavior. Repentance is changing how I think. How I think is really the sum of who I am. It's what really matters at the end of the day. How I look is temporary, but how I think about how I look has much more significance and importance.
In talking with a man from the ward:
Labels and stigma only divide. If we are to 'mourn with those who mourn', we need to be united.
In talking with my therapist:
Friendships are not based off of the two friends using each other. It's based off of the two people sharing what they like with each other. It's based off of two people reaching out to support and help each other.
My therapist and I talked about how common interests often help draw friends together. I tried to compare two different people I knew. One of them, I enjoy spending time with. The other, I don't like spending time with. I have things in common with both of them. The difference is that one friend seems to give and share. The other seems to take and drain. Probably explains why one friendship still seems viable and I need space from the other person.
Isolation is something that has hurt my ability to make friends. If I'm not sharing or being open to other people, how am I to make friends?
We talked about my Elder's Quorum president a bit. I stated that I had written a letter to him, talking about how I had same gender attraction. My therapist suggested that I would need to talk to him in person, and that it would be a form of conflict. I said that it was more me taking a risk and being vulnerable. He then smiled and stated that the conflict was with myself, rather than with the Elder's Quorum president. That's when I remarked back, half joking, but half truthfully that I was tired all the time because I was always in conflict with myself.
One of the most powerful insights I got from the therapist was that I was trying to derive a sense of self worth from being touched rather than having the touch affirm or validate my value. As I talked with another friend, I realized that I craved touch and become addicted in a sense to it because I must have a sense of self worth. If I don't feel of worth without being touched, I'm going to be constantly pursuing touch. On the other hand, if my worth is independent of that, then I can simply enjoy receiving touch, without it determining if I'm of worth or not.
It may be a bit jumbled, but those are some insights I've gotten into myself and life. I hope you enjoy!
In talking with my sister:
Repentance is more than changing behavior. Repentance is changing how I think. How I think is really the sum of who I am. It's what really matters at the end of the day. How I look is temporary, but how I think about how I look has much more significance and importance.
In talking with a man from the ward:
Labels and stigma only divide. If we are to 'mourn with those who mourn', we need to be united.
In talking with my therapist:
Friendships are not based off of the two friends using each other. It's based off of the two people sharing what they like with each other. It's based off of two people reaching out to support and help each other.
My therapist and I talked about how common interests often help draw friends together. I tried to compare two different people I knew. One of them, I enjoy spending time with. The other, I don't like spending time with. I have things in common with both of them. The difference is that one friend seems to give and share. The other seems to take and drain. Probably explains why one friendship still seems viable and I need space from the other person.
Isolation is something that has hurt my ability to make friends. If I'm not sharing or being open to other people, how am I to make friends?
We talked about my Elder's Quorum president a bit. I stated that I had written a letter to him, talking about how I had same gender attraction. My therapist suggested that I would need to talk to him in person, and that it would be a form of conflict. I said that it was more me taking a risk and being vulnerable. He then smiled and stated that the conflict was with myself, rather than with the Elder's Quorum president. That's when I remarked back, half joking, but half truthfully that I was tired all the time because I was always in conflict with myself.
One of the most powerful insights I got from the therapist was that I was trying to derive a sense of self worth from being touched rather than having the touch affirm or validate my value. As I talked with another friend, I realized that I craved touch and become addicted in a sense to it because I must have a sense of self worth. If I don't feel of worth without being touched, I'm going to be constantly pursuing touch. On the other hand, if my worth is independent of that, then I can simply enjoy receiving touch, without it determining if I'm of worth or not.
It may be a bit jumbled, but those are some insights I've gotten into myself and life. I hope you enjoy!
Monday, February 13, 2012
The Issue Cycle 13Feb2012
This last week was a really interesting one for me. Thankfully, none of it involved a tow truck or a police car. It was just like I was noticing each and every last male that was even remotely attractive to me. It really bothered me for a good part of the week, especially since some of my co-workers fall into that category. Thankfully, I took the day off Friday to get a small reprieve from that. I've also been noticing how often my thoughts have turned to lust, or how often I find myself indulging in fantasy. I honestly don't know if this is due to an increase of temptations or if I'm simply becoming more and more aware of my thoughts and my attractions. I do feel like I'm starting to gain more control over my thoughts.
Anyways, I noticed this morning that a different issue of mine was starting to come up. I felt like I looked at my life and felt like I didn't have any close friends. I realized that this is partially a lie on my part. I have many friends that I can talk to, many people who are safe to share intimate and very personal things. I just don't understand why something like this keeps coming up. It could partially be to the fact that I have a tendency to push people away, even when they do get close to me.
I then realized that my issues tend to go through cycles. I've started to see themes and patterns emerge with thing that I 'deal with'. Similar issues tend to come up over and over. Each issue tends to take it's turn on the 'top' of the heap.
Here's a small list:
Touch. This one tends to be on the quite a bit. I've often felt the desire to be held by another person. Lately, I've also been getting desires to hold some friends of mine. I don't know if it's an attempt to comfort them, or to shelter them. One of my fears around this is that it's an attempt to try to take away their problems. On a more positive note, it could be a desire to give to other men what I feel I need. I've had some very positive and uplifting experiences related to touch and holding, so this issue doesn't seem to be on the top quite as much lately.
Nudity/Body Image. One of the biggest struggles of the past week seemed to be based around nudity or even how other men look. I found myself wanting to look, almost obsessively, at other men that I found attractive. It was like part of me wanted to figure out what it was I was looking for in them. I also found myself analyzing new men to see if I felt attracted to them or not. In some cases, I found myself wondering what they would look like unclothed in various degrees. Those sorts of thoughts unfortunately would quickly lead to inappropriate fantasies many times. This is an issue that I'm not quite sure how to address. I feel like I have made some progress with this 'issue', yet it is obvious there still is more work to be done. Largely, this could be boiled down to either my own body shame, or perhaps just a natural curiosity about what men look like.
Friendship. Friendship is the one that seems to be on the top most recently. I see two guys walking down the street together and imagine that they're best of friends. They're buddies. They do everything together. I find myself really wanting something like that. I look at interactions between men at church, work, or in other places and I judge that they are warm and friendly with each other, and I find myself craving interactions like that or interactions with those men. I've found myself many times looking at all of my friends and not feeling like there was anyone I was close to. It makes me wonder what I judge a 'close friendship' to be. There are many men I share personal things with, yet I don't feel close to those men. It could be a part of my defensive detachment. I could emotionally/mentally/behaviorally push men away when they get to close. The defensive detachment could largely come from feeling hurt by different men in the past (whether they intended to or not). It could also still be some burnout from my last few attempts at establishing a close friendship with another man.
To speak more of the friendship, I realized last night that I give some men great power to be able to hurt me, to make or break me. I find that I can grow very dependent, in a sense, to men that I am attracted to. If they interact positively with me, then everything is great. If they interact negatively with me, then the world is coming to an end. The whole thing is not a very healthy thing for me. It often leads me to feeling hurt.
On another note, I think that friendship is largely based on reciprocation. I know of many people, both male and female, that have tried to interact with me and share about themselves. For whatever reason, I have felt like I don't want to share on the same level back. On the other hand, there are men that I want to share about myself with them and be close to them, but I've felt like they don't want the same thing back. Even though I realize that it's probably not meant to be personal, I often find myself resenting the man. I feel hurt, bitter, and angry for a time, and then I find myself trying all over again. It honestly makes me afraid that seeking out a close friendship with another man is a fool's dream. Or, I'm afraid that there is something wrong with me that leads to these men not wanting to be close to me. Maybe there's something about the way I act and share that scares other men away. Perhaps my expectations are too high. Perhaps my idea of a close friendship isn't an accurate one. Or maybe I just keep pushing men away before they have a chance to get close. Maybe I move too fast and share too much.
I don't know the answer to the friendship thing. Relationships are complicated, because there are two different people involved. All I know is that it's the issue that seems to be on 'top' right now.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Feeling Off 5Feb2012
Yesterday, I received an interesting e-mail from Innergold Weekly Boost. At the begging of the e-mail was this quote:
"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life." -Fr. Alfred D'Souza
I read the e-mail before church and I was thinking about it as I sat in Sacrament meeting. For the last few mornings, I've been waking up feeling tired and with a nasty headache. This morning seems to be a repeat of the same trend. Perhaps part of my exhaustion is related to some odd dreams that I've had lately. Both of these occurred on Saturday night.
In one dream, I friend of mine that I know for a few years was saying critical things of me, over and over and over. I got tired of it, so I slammed a door shut on him. That same friend had posted something I thought was really annoying that previous Friday. I hid the post and then lowered my subscription level on that friend so that I wouldn't see as many of his updates. Another friend posted something about him hanging out with his 'BFF'. I hid that post because it was simply to triggering for me.
In another dream from Saturday night, a girl had caught a hold of my finger, and would not let get despite my protests. Yesterday in Sacrament meeting, the little girl that I live with always caught a hold of my finger and was using it to point at the words as she read. It was funny for awhile, but after a moment, I was done with it and tried to pull my finger away. It took some effort and brief protest on my part. A similar pattern was repeated in Sacrament and then after church with her as well.
I honestly feel a bit disturbed when my dreams seem to have basis in real life. I do hope some other parts of dreams I've had lately are not going to come true, although most of them seem to be based in things that have been on my mind. Body shame and desire to see what other men look like has been on my mind a lot. Probably explains why shirtless men have been showing up repeatedly in my dreams.
What I don't understand is the repeated feeling of headache, tiredness, and upset stomach. They all seem to be signs of stress. I have been thinking a lot lately. Work has been stressful in very odd ways. Some of it is a different work environment. I used to work on an LDS Church site and that is very different from the current place that I work. I also don't feel like I have very many friends at the current work site, or at least people I feel comfortable talking to besides my account manager, who is a very busy man. The co-worker that sits next to me bothers me in a few different ways. I find many of the other men I work with attractive but also distant.
There's also the stress about trying to figure out how to get my needs met healthily, live a life in the gospel, and still manage my feelings of attraction. I've been feeling quite a bit of frustration in that department. In the past when I've gotten healthy touch from guys, my feelings of attraction have literally vanished. Even though I received quite a bit this last weekend, the feelings are still present, and still bothering me. I also worry that this drive to receive healthy touch is leading me on the road to acting out. I find myself thinking that the touch I got wasn't 'enough'. I worry that will lead me closer and closer to doing something that I will regret later.
Back to the thought that started this post. I sat in sacrament meeting, with my headache and upset stomach, and realized that pain is one of those obstacles I've been allowing to impede me from feeling like I was living life and being happy. That's when a quote from Princess Bride entered into my head "Life is pain, princess". That simple reminder reminds me that life is mean to be a trial. I can't count the number of times I prayed for pain, both emotional and physical, to be taken away, and that prayer has not been answered. I've found myself praying for the strength to bear the pain, rather than for it to go away. After that, church was very good. I felt a sense of belonging there that I haven't felt before. It started to feel like some of the members cared for me.
Even with the realization, I feel off today. Yesterday, I found it hard to remember something as simple as my address. I felt slower than normal. Today, the same headache and upset stomach has been joined by gum pain. Sometimes I honestly worry that my body is falling apart, and I don't know quite what to do about that. I figure it may just be a phase, me getting sick, or simply part of the trail of life. It could also be some lingering shock from having my car towed.
I realize this post today was pretty random. When I don't feel well, I struggle to organize things coherently. A lot of it was things that have been on my mind and worrying me lately.
In one dream, I friend of mine that I know for a few years was saying critical things of me, over and over and over. I got tired of it, so I slammed a door shut on him. That same friend had posted something I thought was really annoying that previous Friday. I hid the post and then lowered my subscription level on that friend so that I wouldn't see as many of his updates. Another friend posted something about him hanging out with his 'BFF'. I hid that post because it was simply to triggering for me.
In another dream from Saturday night, a girl had caught a hold of my finger, and would not let get despite my protests. Yesterday in Sacrament meeting, the little girl that I live with always caught a hold of my finger and was using it to point at the words as she read. It was funny for awhile, but after a moment, I was done with it and tried to pull my finger away. It took some effort and brief protest on my part. A similar pattern was repeated in Sacrament and then after church with her as well.
I honestly feel a bit disturbed when my dreams seem to have basis in real life. I do hope some other parts of dreams I've had lately are not going to come true, although most of them seem to be based in things that have been on my mind. Body shame and desire to see what other men look like has been on my mind a lot. Probably explains why shirtless men have been showing up repeatedly in my dreams.
What I don't understand is the repeated feeling of headache, tiredness, and upset stomach. They all seem to be signs of stress. I have been thinking a lot lately. Work has been stressful in very odd ways. Some of it is a different work environment. I used to work on an LDS Church site and that is very different from the current place that I work. I also don't feel like I have very many friends at the current work site, or at least people I feel comfortable talking to besides my account manager, who is a very busy man. The co-worker that sits next to me bothers me in a few different ways. I find many of the other men I work with attractive but also distant.
There's also the stress about trying to figure out how to get my needs met healthily, live a life in the gospel, and still manage my feelings of attraction. I've been feeling quite a bit of frustration in that department. In the past when I've gotten healthy touch from guys, my feelings of attraction have literally vanished. Even though I received quite a bit this last weekend, the feelings are still present, and still bothering me. I also worry that this drive to receive healthy touch is leading me on the road to acting out. I find myself thinking that the touch I got wasn't 'enough'. I worry that will lead me closer and closer to doing something that I will regret later.
Back to the thought that started this post. I sat in sacrament meeting, with my headache and upset stomach, and realized that pain is one of those obstacles I've been allowing to impede me from feeling like I was living life and being happy. That's when a quote from Princess Bride entered into my head "Life is pain, princess". That simple reminder reminds me that life is mean to be a trial. I can't count the number of times I prayed for pain, both emotional and physical, to be taken away, and that prayer has not been answered. I've found myself praying for the strength to bear the pain, rather than for it to go away. After that, church was very good. I felt a sense of belonging there that I haven't felt before. It started to feel like some of the members cared for me.
Even with the realization, I feel off today. Yesterday, I found it hard to remember something as simple as my address. I felt slower than normal. Today, the same headache and upset stomach has been joined by gum pain. Sometimes I honestly worry that my body is falling apart, and I don't know quite what to do about that. I figure it may just be a phase, me getting sick, or simply part of the trail of life. It could also be some lingering shock from having my car towed.
I realize this post today was pretty random. When I don't feel well, I struggle to organize things coherently. A lot of it was things that have been on my mind and worrying me lately.
Friday, February 3, 2012
My (Mis)Adventures - 3Feb2012
I honestly can't think of a better word for what happened tonight.
Honestly, it started out pretty calm. I went to Jamba Juice after work. Tried out a banana berry flavor smoothing and came home. No one was home and it smelled faintly like poopy diapers (probably my imagination). I turned on the computer and started watching the last two episodes of Slayers Try. I was planning on meeting up with a friend after he got out of work.
5 minutes from the end of the last episode, the friend calls me up and I'm soon speeding my way to the place where we were going to meet. I ran into some heavy traffic, and finally arrived at the place I thought was the right one: Ichiban Sushi. I go inside and I don't see my friend anywhere in the place. That's when I call him up and realize the location is on the other side of State St. So, I quickly pop a U-turn and I find the place. I can't see any parking nearby so I pull into an open spot in the parking lot next to the sushi place we were meeting: Red Ginger. I walk in, find my friend. Order, enjoy the meal and the conversation (actually it was pretty one sided because I felt kind of shy about talking about myself). I walk out with the intention of going to his place to chat with him.
I walked to where my car was and had to do a double take. My car had...transformed? No, it was missing. There was another Prius nearby. Did they move my car? No, it wasn't my beloved Synthia. That's when I realized my car may have been stolen. I called up my friend (who thankfully hadn't left). And I searched the parking lot and found the small towing sign that said something to the effect of 33rd Plaza, towing by so and so towing company. The sign was no bigger than my license plate. Now, I've been to that plaza many times and I've NEVER seen that towing sign before. NEVER. Anyways, I call up the tow company, in a panic, and figure out where they are and how much I'll have to pay. $246.50. Borderline basketcase, I get in my friends car, talking a mile a minute. At this point, a man approaches the car asking us for some money and my friend obliged. We drove to a nearby ATM, went backwards through the lane (so that I could reach it), and I managed to extract the money without losing my debit card (it's happened before!).
Then we went to my friends place and had a very pleasant and interesting chat. Finally, it was time so I went back to the tow place. It was a bit of an adventure to find because the building they had wasn't right at the streets edge. We had to drive through the parking lot of a different tow company in order to find the one that had my beloved Synthia. I got inside, and there were about 3 people waiting for cars in front of me. Seriously, the one people kept asking questions and I about had an aneurism. At this point I realized again how grateful I was that I had paid Synthia off last December. Finally, I paid the money, signed all the forms, and got back to my car.
I can't quite explain the feeling of relief at sitting in the driver's seat. And the comforting, familiar feel of the seat against my back, and the feel of the shifter. I was pleased. I wanted to inspect my car for any possible damages, so I pulled out onto the street, called up my friend to tell him, and got out of my car to check it out. Everything looked good, and the tail light that randomly shorts out was even on (I've been pulled over for that 3 times in the last year). I walked up to my friend, and gave him a pat on the shoulder and thank him for his help. He put his car in gear, and it made me nervous because he didn't seem to quite know which gear he was in (he was in a rental). At this point, I jokingly ran off to go hide in my car.
My friend drives off. I reach over to tweet one last time how happy I am to have my car back, when the police lights started to shine in my rear view window. I was seriously reaching to shift into drive when it happened! The officer asked me what I was doing. I said I was just about to head out, and that I had just retrieved my car from the tow company. The officer said he saw me hand my friend something and then run away. I told him I had just patted him on the shoulder. After showing him my license and my tow company paperwork, the officer thanked me for my cooperation and then let me go. At that point, I decided the best thing to do was leave the scene as quickly as possibly. I got home without event and managed to fuel up my car. As I pulled out of the gas station, I had to pull in behind a Sheriff. At this point, I was begging the Sheriff to ignore me and pull someone else over.
I feel so many feelings over the course of the night. I felt rage, anger, sadness, shock, fear, numbness, and tired. I also felt contentment and safety with my friend.
I am grateful to have passed through the school of hard knocks relatively unscathed. I will not be visiting that little plaza at 33rd and State for a long time. I'm grateful that I had a great friend that stuck with me and helped me not go crazy. I'm also grateful that I paid my car off. In short, I'm grateful that Heavenly Father placed that friend in my life at that time.
In short, I had an adventurous night. One that I hope is never topped in a looooong time.
Honestly, it started out pretty calm. I went to Jamba Juice after work. Tried out a banana berry flavor smoothing and came home. No one was home and it smelled faintly like poopy diapers (probably my imagination). I turned on the computer and started watching the last two episodes of Slayers Try. I was planning on meeting up with a friend after he got out of work.
5 minutes from the end of the last episode, the friend calls me up and I'm soon speeding my way to the place where we were going to meet. I ran into some heavy traffic, and finally arrived at the place I thought was the right one: Ichiban Sushi. I go inside and I don't see my friend anywhere in the place. That's when I call him up and realize the location is on the other side of State St. So, I quickly pop a U-turn and I find the place. I can't see any parking nearby so I pull into an open spot in the parking lot next to the sushi place we were meeting: Red Ginger. I walk in, find my friend. Order, enjoy the meal and the conversation (actually it was pretty one sided because I felt kind of shy about talking about myself). I walk out with the intention of going to his place to chat with him.
I walked to where my car was and had to do a double take. My car had...transformed? No, it was missing. There was another Prius nearby. Did they move my car? No, it wasn't my beloved Synthia. That's when I realized my car may have been stolen. I called up my friend (who thankfully hadn't left). And I searched the parking lot and found the small towing sign that said something to the effect of 33rd Plaza, towing by so and so towing company. The sign was no bigger than my license plate. Now, I've been to that plaza many times and I've NEVER seen that towing sign before. NEVER. Anyways, I call up the tow company, in a panic, and figure out where they are and how much I'll have to pay. $246.50. Borderline basketcase, I get in my friends car, talking a mile a minute. At this point, a man approaches the car asking us for some money and my friend obliged. We drove to a nearby ATM, went backwards through the lane (so that I could reach it), and I managed to extract the money without losing my debit card (it's happened before!).
Then we went to my friends place and had a very pleasant and interesting chat. Finally, it was time so I went back to the tow place. It was a bit of an adventure to find because the building they had wasn't right at the streets edge. We had to drive through the parking lot of a different tow company in order to find the one that had my beloved Synthia. I got inside, and there were about 3 people waiting for cars in front of me. Seriously, the one people kept asking questions and I about had an aneurism. At this point I realized again how grateful I was that I had paid Synthia off last December. Finally, I paid the money, signed all the forms, and got back to my car.
I can't quite explain the feeling of relief at sitting in the driver's seat. And the comforting, familiar feel of the seat against my back, and the feel of the shifter. I was pleased. I wanted to inspect my car for any possible damages, so I pulled out onto the street, called up my friend to tell him, and got out of my car to check it out. Everything looked good, and the tail light that randomly shorts out was even on (I've been pulled over for that 3 times in the last year). I walked up to my friend, and gave him a pat on the shoulder and thank him for his help. He put his car in gear, and it made me nervous because he didn't seem to quite know which gear he was in (he was in a rental). At this point, I jokingly ran off to go hide in my car.
My friend drives off. I reach over to tweet one last time how happy I am to have my car back, when the police lights started to shine in my rear view window. I was seriously reaching to shift into drive when it happened! The officer asked me what I was doing. I said I was just about to head out, and that I had just retrieved my car from the tow company. The officer said he saw me hand my friend something and then run away. I told him I had just patted him on the shoulder. After showing him my license and my tow company paperwork, the officer thanked me for my cooperation and then let me go. At that point, I decided the best thing to do was leave the scene as quickly as possibly. I got home without event and managed to fuel up my car. As I pulled out of the gas station, I had to pull in behind a Sheriff. At this point, I was begging the Sheriff to ignore me and pull someone else over.
I feel so many feelings over the course of the night. I felt rage, anger, sadness, shock, fear, numbness, and tired. I also felt contentment and safety with my friend.
I am grateful to have passed through the school of hard knocks relatively unscathed. I will not be visiting that little plaza at 33rd and State for a long time. I'm grateful that I had a great friend that stuck with me and helped me not go crazy. I'm also grateful that I paid my car off. In short, I'm grateful that Heavenly Father placed that friend in my life at that time.
In short, I had an adventurous night. One that I hope is never topped in a looooong time.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Paths Laden With Fog
I've been coming to learn, or more accurately re-learn, a few things about myself lately. Recently, I've been feeling pretty desperate for connection with other men. Granted, I've been talking and reaching out more than normal. I've even told a number of my friends about me, just in case they weren't following this blog. The desperation still wasn't being alleviated. There's a few simple facts that seem to contribute to this.
First off, my primary love language is touch (If you are unfamiliar with what a 'love language' is, see The 5 Love Languages site, it's also a book). Because of that, my primary way of feeling and expressing love toward other people is through touch, and this very much focused around men, with very few exceptions for women, most of whom are in my family. Most of the time, the expression has very little to do with lust or sexual desire. Sometimes it's a simple expression that I like the person or value them as a friend. Nothing more and nothing less.
This gets obviously frustrated by some aspects of American culture. In my perception, we're not a very touchy-feely sort of people, at least out in public. The same seems to be true when I visit church. In my home ward (by home I mean parent's ward), the people are very good at shaking hands. The last singles ward I was in, and this current ward don't seem to be very good at that, and I'm far too shy to even initiate that kind of contact.
Anyways, I was starting to feel desperate for some kind of physical contact with a man. I can look back now and see how crazy I was, because I have a whole group of friends that are willing to give appropriate, safe, and bonding touch with me. I told myself all sorts of lies to keep myself from asking them. It led me to seeking the safe, appropriate sort of touch in a very dangerous environment.
As an interesting aside, I notice a pattern that emerges when I feel like my touch need isn't getting met. I start to get the crazy notion that people will start spontaneously offering the kind of touch that I need or want. I start to drop into a childlike state, where I expect the people around me to know what my needs are. I basically tend to regress. When my need isn't met (which happens very often because I'm not asking for help to get them met), I start to slip into a state of defensive detachment. I get angry, and I feel lonely. In an attempt to escape the pain of not having the need met, I seek out 'numbing agents' of sorts. I turn to video games generally. The sort of lull and trance they put me in provides a false sense of peace and comfort, yet always lead me to a sense of emptiness and loneliness. When that isn't enough, I turn to stronger 'numbing agents': masturbation and pornography. Like video games, they leave with a more profound feeling of emptiness and numbness. In this state of numbness, I'm even less likely to ask for what I need. It's a vicious downward spiral.
At my support group this week, I managed to touch both the pain and the feeling of emptiness and detachment. It's amazing how familiar both of them feel. I'm often not even conscious of it. The detachment feels warm, familiar, old, and oddly peaceful. Yet it also feels like I'm all alone in a dark room with no one else there. The room is empty and vast.
As I discussed this at my support group, I realized that detachment and numbness is a choice I make. It's a choice that leads me down a road that ends up with me curled up in a ball trying to shut everything else out. It leads me to somewhere dark, lonely, yet safe. As I talked, I also realized there were other paths. There are other choices. There are many different people to ask for help from. All of the roads were covered in fog. I couldn't determine their outcome. The path to numbness, however, was quite clear. I know where it would lead me. I've taken it so many times, that the outcome is sure.
That aside, at support group I also recalled the last time I felt like I wanted some touch, specifically, I wanted to be held. It was when I was having a talk with my dad about this blog post. Forgive me other blog readers, but I'd like to address my dad personally. Feel free to read as well!
Dad, I think you may remember the last time we got together and chatted about a blog post I had made, one about some past shameful lies I'd been believing for years. Wow, this is hard, tears are already in my eyes. I remember as we talked that I one point, I simply wanted you to reach out your arms and cradle me, and comfort me. When I realized that, I almost immediately started to belittle/demean/talk down to myself about it. 'Why would an adult want to be held? I should be independent. I shouldn't need this. I shouldn't want this.' Despite what I said, the desire was still there. The pain was still there. I wanted to connect. I wanted to connect like a child would connect with his father. I wanted to be held by you. Yet, like a child, I found myself powerless to ask for what I wanted. I found myself incapable of expressing the words. Maybe because I was starting to feel, live, and act from a very young state, perhaps before I could even talk. I've always wondered why I've struggled to connect with you. I know I've been defensively detached from both you and Mom. I'm starting to wonder if the problem and solution lie somewhere in the desire to be held by you, dad. I somehow want to go back to where the defensive detachment started, attach, instead of detaching, and start unraveling years of me detaching myself from you. Honestly, I feel afraid to ask for what I want. I honestly don't know how you would take it, or even if you know how to hold me. I don't even know how long it would take, or even if it would take more than one time of it happening. There are many, many years of detachment. Many years of me isolating myself from you. I still think we can bridge the gap and heal this. Honestly, the path is laden with fog. All I know for now is there is a desire for me to be held by you.
Thank you for indulging me readers. I feel nearly overcome inside with the sadness and the pain. When I was a child, I didn't know what I needed. I obviously felt a need to be safe, so I started to withdraw from my parents. I honestly have no idea where it started. All I know is that it worked at the time, and now, it isn't working as an adult. To be withdrawn and detached from the people around me, means I can continue to be safe, but also broken, hurt, lonely, and ultimately, empty. It also means that I defend myself from others attempts to truly love me. It also extends to and disrupts my relationship with God.
The future paths are laden with fog. I could continue to take the one familiar path, that leads me to loneliness. I think it's time to start taking one of the fog laden ones and push through to see what's on the other side of the fog.
Oh, and a personal request. If you know me, in person, I would definitely appreciate more hugs! However that looks for you.
Thank you for reading.
First off, my primary love language is touch (If you are unfamiliar with what a 'love language' is, see The 5 Love Languages site, it's also a book). Because of that, my primary way of feeling and expressing love toward other people is through touch, and this very much focused around men, with very few exceptions for women, most of whom are in my family. Most of the time, the expression has very little to do with lust or sexual desire. Sometimes it's a simple expression that I like the person or value them as a friend. Nothing more and nothing less.
This gets obviously frustrated by some aspects of American culture. In my perception, we're not a very touchy-feely sort of people, at least out in public. The same seems to be true when I visit church. In my home ward (by home I mean parent's ward), the people are very good at shaking hands. The last singles ward I was in, and this current ward don't seem to be very good at that, and I'm far too shy to even initiate that kind of contact.
Anyways, I was starting to feel desperate for some kind of physical contact with a man. I can look back now and see how crazy I was, because I have a whole group of friends that are willing to give appropriate, safe, and bonding touch with me. I told myself all sorts of lies to keep myself from asking them. It led me to seeking the safe, appropriate sort of touch in a very dangerous environment.
As an interesting aside, I notice a pattern that emerges when I feel like my touch need isn't getting met. I start to get the crazy notion that people will start spontaneously offering the kind of touch that I need or want. I start to drop into a childlike state, where I expect the people around me to know what my needs are. I basically tend to regress. When my need isn't met (which happens very often because I'm not asking for help to get them met), I start to slip into a state of defensive detachment. I get angry, and I feel lonely. In an attempt to escape the pain of not having the need met, I seek out 'numbing agents' of sorts. I turn to video games generally. The sort of lull and trance they put me in provides a false sense of peace and comfort, yet always lead me to a sense of emptiness and loneliness. When that isn't enough, I turn to stronger 'numbing agents': masturbation and pornography. Like video games, they leave with a more profound feeling of emptiness and numbness. In this state of numbness, I'm even less likely to ask for what I need. It's a vicious downward spiral.
At my support group this week, I managed to touch both the pain and the feeling of emptiness and detachment. It's amazing how familiar both of them feel. I'm often not even conscious of it. The detachment feels warm, familiar, old, and oddly peaceful. Yet it also feels like I'm all alone in a dark room with no one else there. The room is empty and vast.
As I discussed this at my support group, I realized that detachment and numbness is a choice I make. It's a choice that leads me down a road that ends up with me curled up in a ball trying to shut everything else out. It leads me to somewhere dark, lonely, yet safe. As I talked, I also realized there were other paths. There are other choices. There are many different people to ask for help from. All of the roads were covered in fog. I couldn't determine their outcome. The path to numbness, however, was quite clear. I know where it would lead me. I've taken it so many times, that the outcome is sure.
That aside, at support group I also recalled the last time I felt like I wanted some touch, specifically, I wanted to be held. It was when I was having a talk with my dad about this blog post. Forgive me other blog readers, but I'd like to address my dad personally. Feel free to read as well!
Dad, I think you may remember the last time we got together and chatted about a blog post I had made, one about some past shameful lies I'd been believing for years. Wow, this is hard, tears are already in my eyes. I remember as we talked that I one point, I simply wanted you to reach out your arms and cradle me, and comfort me. When I realized that, I almost immediately started to belittle/demean/talk down to myself about it. 'Why would an adult want to be held? I should be independent. I shouldn't need this. I shouldn't want this.' Despite what I said, the desire was still there. The pain was still there. I wanted to connect. I wanted to connect like a child would connect with his father. I wanted to be held by you. Yet, like a child, I found myself powerless to ask for what I wanted. I found myself incapable of expressing the words. Maybe because I was starting to feel, live, and act from a very young state, perhaps before I could even talk. I've always wondered why I've struggled to connect with you. I know I've been defensively detached from both you and Mom. I'm starting to wonder if the problem and solution lie somewhere in the desire to be held by you, dad. I somehow want to go back to where the defensive detachment started, attach, instead of detaching, and start unraveling years of me detaching myself from you. Honestly, I feel afraid to ask for what I want. I honestly don't know how you would take it, or even if you know how to hold me. I don't even know how long it would take, or even if it would take more than one time of it happening. There are many, many years of detachment. Many years of me isolating myself from you. I still think we can bridge the gap and heal this. Honestly, the path is laden with fog. All I know for now is there is a desire for me to be held by you.
Thank you for indulging me readers. I feel nearly overcome inside with the sadness and the pain. When I was a child, I didn't know what I needed. I obviously felt a need to be safe, so I started to withdraw from my parents. I honestly have no idea where it started. All I know is that it worked at the time, and now, it isn't working as an adult. To be withdrawn and detached from the people around me, means I can continue to be safe, but also broken, hurt, lonely, and ultimately, empty. It also means that I defend myself from others attempts to truly love me. It also extends to and disrupts my relationship with God.
The future paths are laden with fog. I could continue to take the one familiar path, that leads me to loneliness. I think it's time to start taking one of the fog laden ones and push through to see what's on the other side of the fog.
Oh, and a personal request. If you know me, in person, I would definitely appreciate more hugs! However that looks for you.
Thank you for reading.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
A Matter Of Perspective 7Dec2011
I am feeling a whole lot better today. I had a wonderful talk with my therapist that helped to widen and open up my perspective.
First, he had me do a relaxation technique. The shoulder/neck pain and headaches were due to my body responding to all the stress I've been feeling lately. Work, trying to figure out how to handle my attractions toward men, and stressing about giving/receiving appropriate healthy touch with other men has really been taking a toll on my body. After I was able to relax some, I was able to talk about all those things that were stressing me.
My therapist then asked me what my options were for dealing with my attractions or life in general. I came up with a list of the following (by no means inclusive of all the options I have):
- Live the lifestyle, having multiple sexual partners
- Live the lifestyle, have one sexual partners
- Live the lifestyle, remain celibate, only date men
- Don't live the lifestyle, have romantic relationships with men
- Don't interact with men at all
- Connect superficially with men
- Connect emotionally with other men
- Be vulnerable with men that I trust
- Pursue a close, vulnerable relationship with God (this option teared me up when I said it)
- Completely ignore God and His will
I'm sure there are many more options that I could pursue in relationship with life and my attractions. The experience of listing options, as many as I could think of, helped to open my eyes. I realized that romantic and sexual interactions with men was only a small subset of a larger sphere of possible interactions. I could do so many other things with men. As we talked, I couldn't help but here the lie inside 'Oh, but I'm shy. People don't invite me to do things with them.' I know that is a lie. I have friends that do invite me to do things. I've been a bit of a hermit lately due to the headaches and pain.
My therapist then told me that I seemed to be very focused on men and my attraction to them. He said he hadn't heard me talk about any girls, specifically a girl that I had been kind of interested in a few months ago. I can probably count on one hand the number of women that I interact with (by women I mean females older than 9). Only about three of them are women that I feel comfortable enough to share at least part of what's going on with me, two of those are my sisters and another is my friend's girlfriend. I realized that I had a large void in my life. I was totally ignoring the possibility of interacting with women, probably because I simply don't have many opportunities, outside of church and rarely at work, to interact with women. I've decided that I need to start participating in the local single ward activities. I go to a family ward currently, and really like the progress I'm making with the bishop. Hopefully if I start going to some single ward activities, I may find more people around where I live that I can interact with. Maybe I can even find that mythical, other gender attracted, cuddle buddy I've been looking for. There's the obsession with men again.
I stated something profound last night. I know I've heard it before. I said to my therapist that my attraction has very little to do with sex and sexual relationships with men. It's more about emotional connection. It's more about loving and feeling loved. For me, maybe that generally looks like some kind of touch or physical affection, but it doesn't have to be like that. Touch is only one small way people convey the fact that they like someone else. It still is my preferred method. I'm going to have to keep my eyes open a little wider to see if people are sending me that message, and I'm missing it. I'm still going to keep my touchy feely nature toward other people and yet try to explore other ways of expressing how I feel toward a person.
Anyways, my therapist did say I was focusing on one very small part of my life: my desire for touch-based interaction with men. I realized that I was focusing on it. Sure, it is a squeaky wheel. It's a big pain point for me. But there is so much more to life than just that. There's my relationship with friends I do have. There's my co-workers. There's my relationship with myself. There's my relationship with Heavenly Father. There's my hobbies: Magic, video games, and reading.
As my therapist gave me a hug goodbye, he started to talked to me. It's one of my favorite moments because I really like his hugs, and he often says very insightful things as we're hugging. He said he wanted me to expand my expectations on what I can do. He wants me to expand my expectations for me. I realized that I had been doing something like that. When temptation to masturbate arises, a lie often comes with it. "You'll eventually give in" says the lie. To that I say "I can resist. I can with God's help." And many times, He has come to my aid.
As I ate dinner, I had a pleasant conversation with a friend and we got into the matter of perspective. I realized that I can't see the "big picture". Even with the spirit's aid, I often only see parts of glimpses of the whole plan. I'm given just what I need to succeed and thrive with my challenges.
I went home and had an enjoyable evening rebuilding some of my Magic decks. I dismantled one deck, and realized I still had ten regular decks and two Commander decks. I only managed to rebuild half of my regular decks. I awoke this morning feel tired, but not completely worn out like I have felt the last few days. The pain in my neck and shoulders seems to have faded. Sure, the whole physical touch situation hasn't changed a whole lot. It's just not the only thing I'm going to focus on, I hope.
To finish, I'd love to share some sayings/quotes that I like:
"Perception is reality."
"Perception is everything, to the perceiver."
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
White Knuckling It 6Dec2011
It's been about 4 months or so since I last had a problem looking at pornography. By pornography, I mean something that nearly any (sane) person would call pornographic. I haven't had a problem with masturbation for over two weeks.
I've been tempted many times to give in to both evils. Sometimes I started to entertain the ideas. I've found myself looking at pictures that aren't healthy for me in this state. Just last weekend, I started watching some videos that weren't good for me either. I was flirting with the line. I was putting myself into fire. Thankfully, a friend messaged me on Facebook. I felt a sense of guilt and shame at having been watching something like that. I closed the browser tab and talked with him a bit.
This morning, the temptation came again to give in. I paused for a moment, made sure I was looking at what was going on around me, and tried to tap into what I was feeling. Sadness, depression and a feeling of warmth inside. Heavenly Father does know what's going on with me. He knows what my needs are. When I'm not taking care of my needs or letting Heavenly Father take care of what needs I can't take care of on my own, I'm far more vulnerable to being tempted to 'take care' of my needs with something counterfeit. In fact, many times when I've been tempted I've thought "Yeah, that will feel good for a moment, but I'll be even worse afterward".
One need that I've been struggling to meet is getting adequate sleep. I feel tired at night until the moment my head hits the pillow. I then get a feeling of longing. I want someone to snuggle up to. I want to be held by someone until I fall asleep. I find my mind going into fantasy and the temptation to masturbate grows. For instance, last night I had to open my eyes many times to get a good dose of reality. I had to remind myself that I was along in the room. I had to tap back into my feelings of exhaustion. After some struggle, I was able to fall asleep. Lack of sleep really doesn't help with my overall mood.
Another contributing factor is the fact of physical pain. I've been having some strange and particularly annoying headaches lately, accompanied by pain in my shoulders and neck. I went and got a massage last Saturday, but that didn't seem to help much. The whole area either feels tight, or burns. The feelings of pain come and go. I'm sure this may be from stress related to my job and trying to figure out life problems.
Another need I feel is lacking is the need to connect with other men. This need seems to be plastered all over my thoughts and actions. My primary way of feeling connected to another person is through touch. I have all sorts of fear, beliefs, and stories around touch that make things difficult. Sometimes I feel like I'm having to 'sneak in' getting touch. Sometimes it feels like it's something that can only be done in 'secret'. On particularly difficult days, I find myself believing that wanting to be touched or wanting to touch another man in any way is 'bad'.
On a related note, yesterday I had to carpool with some men from my work. Three of us had to squeeze into the back seat. Both of the other men were bigger than, one by quite a bit. Needless to say, it was a bit uncomfortable. The man on my left finally put his arm around the seat behind me. The man on the right kept moving himself away as far as possible to 'give me space'. Honestly, I would have been totally happy with him putting his arm around me. I really wanted him to. Yet, how could I ask something like that? I honestly was afraid of what the man would think of me? Was it 'bad' that I wanted this guys arm around me? Was it bad that I liked how it did feel to sit right next to him and the other man?
I feel like I'm getting desperate to figure out how to handle this need. On the way out of a clothing store, I had a strange urge to walk up to one of the male mannequins and starting rubbing its chest. I thought it was a little amusing at the time. Now it feels shameful and disgusting. It's a similar urge that I get toward other men.
I feel like I'm trying to white knuckle my way through this. There must be a way to get that need for touch met, without it becoming something sexual or romantic. There must be a way to give and receive affection with another man without violating any sort of gospel principles. I'm just having a hard time seeing it right now. I pray that God will help me find the answers soon. I pray I'll find the answers.
I've been tempted many times to give in to both evils. Sometimes I started to entertain the ideas. I've found myself looking at pictures that aren't healthy for me in this state. Just last weekend, I started watching some videos that weren't good for me either. I was flirting with the line. I was putting myself into fire. Thankfully, a friend messaged me on Facebook. I felt a sense of guilt and shame at having been watching something like that. I closed the browser tab and talked with him a bit.
This morning, the temptation came again to give in. I paused for a moment, made sure I was looking at what was going on around me, and tried to tap into what I was feeling. Sadness, depression and a feeling of warmth inside. Heavenly Father does know what's going on with me. He knows what my needs are. When I'm not taking care of my needs or letting Heavenly Father take care of what needs I can't take care of on my own, I'm far more vulnerable to being tempted to 'take care' of my needs with something counterfeit. In fact, many times when I've been tempted I've thought "Yeah, that will feel good for a moment, but I'll be even worse afterward".
One need that I've been struggling to meet is getting adequate sleep. I feel tired at night until the moment my head hits the pillow. I then get a feeling of longing. I want someone to snuggle up to. I want to be held by someone until I fall asleep. I find my mind going into fantasy and the temptation to masturbate grows. For instance, last night I had to open my eyes many times to get a good dose of reality. I had to remind myself that I was along in the room. I had to tap back into my feelings of exhaustion. After some struggle, I was able to fall asleep. Lack of sleep really doesn't help with my overall mood.
Another contributing factor is the fact of physical pain. I've been having some strange and particularly annoying headaches lately, accompanied by pain in my shoulders and neck. I went and got a massage last Saturday, but that didn't seem to help much. The whole area either feels tight, or burns. The feelings of pain come and go. I'm sure this may be from stress related to my job and trying to figure out life problems.
Another need I feel is lacking is the need to connect with other men. This need seems to be plastered all over my thoughts and actions. My primary way of feeling connected to another person is through touch. I have all sorts of fear, beliefs, and stories around touch that make things difficult. Sometimes I feel like I'm having to 'sneak in' getting touch. Sometimes it feels like it's something that can only be done in 'secret'. On particularly difficult days, I find myself believing that wanting to be touched or wanting to touch another man in any way is 'bad'.
On a related note, yesterday I had to carpool with some men from my work. Three of us had to squeeze into the back seat. Both of the other men were bigger than, one by quite a bit. Needless to say, it was a bit uncomfortable. The man on my left finally put his arm around the seat behind me. The man on the right kept moving himself away as far as possible to 'give me space'. Honestly, I would have been totally happy with him putting his arm around me. I really wanted him to. Yet, how could I ask something like that? I honestly was afraid of what the man would think of me? Was it 'bad' that I wanted this guys arm around me? Was it bad that I liked how it did feel to sit right next to him and the other man?
I feel like I'm getting desperate to figure out how to handle this need. On the way out of a clothing store, I had a strange urge to walk up to one of the male mannequins and starting rubbing its chest. I thought it was a little amusing at the time. Now it feels shameful and disgusting. It's a similar urge that I get toward other men.
I feel like I'm trying to white knuckle my way through this. There must be a way to get that need for touch met, without it becoming something sexual or romantic. There must be a way to give and receive affection with another man without violating any sort of gospel principles. I'm just having a hard time seeing it right now. I pray that God will help me find the answers soon. I pray I'll find the answers.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Wanting What I Can't Have 4Dec2011
Lately, I've been feeling pretty frustrated by my seeming inability to connect and relate with other men, more specifically to men who don't experience same gender attraction. I'm guessing a good majority of it is simply lies, false judgments, or fears around things that have happened in the past. My biggest fear is around one thing: touch.
My primary love language is touch. That means that I generally feel most loved when I'm getting the right kind of touch. I don't mean anything sexual or romantic. Simple things like having an arm put around my shoulder or a hug can go a long way. I judge that men in American society are afraid of showing any kind of physical affection with another man. I judge they are afraid of being labeled as 'homosexual', 'queer', 'gay', etc. I'm afraid to show any kind of physical affect, well anything more than brief contact, for the same fear of being 'discovered'. I've thought many times: I wish I could just snuggle up to with this man. I get images of a cat, a puppy, or a small child that gets to snuggle up with the person. There's nothing sexual about it in my mind, at least at first. Really, all I want is simply some loving, affecitonate touch from another man.
Now, when that desire/need/want/whatever to connect with another man via touch gets frustrated in some way, then things start to go haywire. It can get frustrated by me listening to those lies and being too afraid to ask. It can also be frustrated if the man I experience that desire toward is a man that I see only once, or perhaps it is a man that I hardly get to see at all. In one case, it's a man that I've had some past 'sexual' experiences with, and has requested that we not spend time together. When the frustration sets in, the craving for the touch doesn't go away, instead it starts to go haywire. It could become a sexual idea. I could have fantasies about it. I could end up going numb or distant from my need for touch. Basically, it's not very healthy for me.
Am I wanting something that I just can't have? I've thought many times that the other gender attracted men around me just aren't equipped to give me what I want/need/desire. I've consigned myself to accepting the what men are able to give me.
Now, I'm not saying that I have no opportunities at all for healthy touch. It seems to primary come from two sources: men who also experience same gender attraction and children (I know a little girl that loves to have snuggle time with me). I sometimes feel like I'm ungrateful for the opportunites for healthy touch that I do get, because I find myself wanting/longing for something more, something else.
Well, tonight I got pretty desperate for some kind of 'cuddle buddy' so I decided to do a Google Search on it. That's when I found this post by a man (I stole the title of the post for this blog post):
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Want-A-Cuddle-Buddy/1445353
I was surprised that there was a man who was sexually attracted to women, but who also liked to have 'cuddle time' with other men, a straight man who's love language was touch, but wasn't weirded out by touching other men. I was blown away by the story. As I laid down to sleep. I came to feel that maybe it was the Lord's way of saying 'Hey, I know what you need. Have hope. There are men like that out there.' I remember praying that I could somehow find someone like that.
I hope the Lord answers my prayer. Really, the whole touch/cuddle desire of mine has very little to do with sex. It's all about wanting to feel loved and affirmed by another man. Although sometimes it does feel like I want something that I can't have. Can't have because it's "against the gospel" or can't have because I haven't found the right man to do that with. I'll try to have hope. I just wish it didn't take so long for some prayers to be answered.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Self disgust
This is definitely not a post to read on an empty heart or an empty soul.
I find that I think and feel things that make me feel disgusted with myself. I look at my thoughts and actions and I often feel a sense of condemnation or demonization. I judge myself pretty harshly at times. I find that it often starts with me condemning a thought or action, and then morphing into me condemning or looking down on myself. Then, I feel disgusted at myself and any hope for changing goes out the window.
There are a lot of things I can think of that cause this reaction in me. Some of them could possible be innocent. Some of them could deserve some changes. Others possibly are sinful. I'm honestly so close to them, and so accustomed to condemning then, that I throw them all into the sinful bucket just to make things simpler. Then I begin feeling ashamed of them. I tell myself that if the people around me "really knew" what I was thinking or feeling, then they wouldn't want to be around me. They would hate me, despise me, fear me, and ultimately, they would be disgusted with me like I am disgusted with myself.
I will share a few of them here.
I feel disgusted that I will sometimes choose whether or not to do something with a friend based on the fact of how entertaining it is. I feel disgusted that I find sitting and talking boring. I feel disgusted that I always have to be 'entertained'. I feel disgusted that I choose video games/reading over interacting with people around me or getting enough sleep. I feel disgusted that the drive to play a video game is stronger than the drive to listen to people or invest in friendships. I feel disgusted that I would rather play a video game rather than go to family events.
I feel disgusted with myself when I realize that the one reason that's driving me to be someone's friend is the fact that I feel attracted to them. I don't always act on the drive, yet it is usually there. If there is an attractive man, I want to be close to that person. I get jealous if someone else seems to have a good relationship with them be it joking, talking, or just seeming to enjoy each others presence. I feel disgusted that I'm so jealous at that. I feel disgusted if I see a picture of an attractive man, and I immediately want to know the person or be their "best friend".
I feel disgusted with myself with how often and how much I want touch. I feel disgusted that it's not only that I want touch, but that I want touch from men I feel attracted to. I feel disgusted that if a man who doesn't fall into the "I'm attracted to you" category offers touch in some way, it feels funny, or I feel myself cringe inside while receiving it or it doesn't quite 'hit the spot' so to speak. I feel disgusted that I see attractive men at work, out in public, wherever, and I find myself wondering what it would be like snuggled up to the man which his arm around me, or how it would feel if I were to give him a hug, or how it would feel if rubbed my shoulders, or whatever else it is. I feel disgusted that I fantasize about being touched by attractive men. I feel disgusted that those fantasies can go sexual so quickly. I often think that if the man knew I wanted whatever kind of touch it is I happen to be thinking of at the moment, that the man would withdraw from me or be afraid from me. The fear of being rejected over it only serves to heighten my shame at the time.
I feel disgusted with myself that I like looking at pornography or pornographic material. I feel disgusted when I find myself endlessly looking through pictures of an attractive man trying to find a picture where he's shirtless. I feel disgusted when I find myself imaging what a man would look like with his shirt off. I feel disgusted that I quickly scan a new man's body to find out if I'm attracted to them or not. I feel disgusted that I like the way a man's body looks.
I feel disgusted that I masturbate. I feel disgusted with the thoughts that lead me up to it. I even feel disgusted with the feelings of tiredness or loneliness that prompt the temptation to masturbate. I feel disgusted with myself during and afterward for how I feel or what I'm thinking about. I feel deeply ashamed about the fact that I do it.
I feel disgusted that I don't like everyone, or even worse, that there are people that I don't like. There are some people that I wish wouldn't interact with me, or that they would interact with me very rarely. I feel disgusted that I feel that way. I feel disgusted that I don't have the courage to step up and tell them to back off. When I do step up and express my wants, in whatever way I can, I feel disgusted that I did so.
I feel disgusted that I feel lonely and unloved, even though I am surrounded by people who love me. I have a family that loves me. I know it. I can see it in their actions and their words. My father has expressed many times how he and my mother love me. Yet, I feel disgusted that I feel empty inside when he says that. I feel disgusted that I'm so numb to the love that I craved so much growing up. I feel disgusted that I am so detached from the people around me.
I feel disgusted that I struggle so often with the simple spiritual things. I feel disgusted that I often forget to pray or study my scriptures. I feel disgusted that I forget about fasting. I feel disgusted that I resent going to church. I feel disgusted that when I go to church, all I can think about is my loneliness and my despair. I feel disgusted that I am too afraid to try to befriend the men in the ward. I feel disgusted that I'm not a regular home teacher and that I hardly know the names of the people I home teach currently. I feel disgusted at how easily I forget that I know and have felt that God loves me. I feel disgusted on how easily I abandon faith or hope when times get rough. I feel disgusted that I always think I have to do things 'on my own' without God's help or with help from anyone else.
Ultimately, I feel disgusted for who I am, how I feel, what I think about, what I do, and what I say.
I feel disgusted that I've worked on overcoming some of these things, but that they still come back. That I'm still detached. That I still don't know how to set clear boundaries. That I still feel so angry or lonely.
I hope by continuing to write this blog, I can learn more about myself. I hope that I can share my struggles. Hopefully it will help all of you that may feel similar things to me. I hope that by sharing this I can overcome the shame I feel. I hope that I can possibly learn to allow the people I love in closer into my life where I can feel their love and I can truly love them in return. Yet, as long as I continue to feel disgusted with myself, I will continue to struggle with the loneliness and anger that comes with it.
I find that I think and feel things that make me feel disgusted with myself. I look at my thoughts and actions and I often feel a sense of condemnation or demonization. I judge myself pretty harshly at times. I find that it often starts with me condemning a thought or action, and then morphing into me condemning or looking down on myself. Then, I feel disgusted at myself and any hope for changing goes out the window.
There are a lot of things I can think of that cause this reaction in me. Some of them could possible be innocent. Some of them could deserve some changes. Others possibly are sinful. I'm honestly so close to them, and so accustomed to condemning then, that I throw them all into the sinful bucket just to make things simpler. Then I begin feeling ashamed of them. I tell myself that if the people around me "really knew" what I was thinking or feeling, then they wouldn't want to be around me. They would hate me, despise me, fear me, and ultimately, they would be disgusted with me like I am disgusted with myself.
I will share a few of them here.
I feel disgusted that I will sometimes choose whether or not to do something with a friend based on the fact of how entertaining it is. I feel disgusted that I find sitting and talking boring. I feel disgusted that I always have to be 'entertained'. I feel disgusted that I choose video games/reading over interacting with people around me or getting enough sleep. I feel disgusted that the drive to play a video game is stronger than the drive to listen to people or invest in friendships. I feel disgusted that I would rather play a video game rather than go to family events.
I feel disgusted with myself when I realize that the one reason that's driving me to be someone's friend is the fact that I feel attracted to them. I don't always act on the drive, yet it is usually there. If there is an attractive man, I want to be close to that person. I get jealous if someone else seems to have a good relationship with them be it joking, talking, or just seeming to enjoy each others presence. I feel disgusted that I'm so jealous at that. I feel disgusted if I see a picture of an attractive man, and I immediately want to know the person or be their "best friend".
I feel disgusted with myself with how often and how much I want touch. I feel disgusted that it's not only that I want touch, but that I want touch from men I feel attracted to. I feel disgusted that if a man who doesn't fall into the "I'm attracted to you" category offers touch in some way, it feels funny, or I feel myself cringe inside while receiving it or it doesn't quite 'hit the spot' so to speak. I feel disgusted that I see attractive men at work, out in public, wherever, and I find myself wondering what it would be like snuggled up to the man which his arm around me, or how it would feel if I were to give him a hug, or how it would feel if rubbed my shoulders, or whatever else it is. I feel disgusted that I fantasize about being touched by attractive men. I feel disgusted that those fantasies can go sexual so quickly. I often think that if the man knew I wanted whatever kind of touch it is I happen to be thinking of at the moment, that the man would withdraw from me or be afraid from me. The fear of being rejected over it only serves to heighten my shame at the time.
I feel disgusted with myself that I like looking at pornography or pornographic material. I feel disgusted when I find myself endlessly looking through pictures of an attractive man trying to find a picture where he's shirtless. I feel disgusted when I find myself imaging what a man would look like with his shirt off. I feel disgusted that I quickly scan a new man's body to find out if I'm attracted to them or not. I feel disgusted that I like the way a man's body looks.
I feel disgusted that I masturbate. I feel disgusted with the thoughts that lead me up to it. I even feel disgusted with the feelings of tiredness or loneliness that prompt the temptation to masturbate. I feel disgusted with myself during and afterward for how I feel or what I'm thinking about. I feel deeply ashamed about the fact that I do it.
I feel disgusted that I don't like everyone, or even worse, that there are people that I don't like. There are some people that I wish wouldn't interact with me, or that they would interact with me very rarely. I feel disgusted that I feel that way. I feel disgusted that I don't have the courage to step up and tell them to back off. When I do step up and express my wants, in whatever way I can, I feel disgusted that I did so.
I feel disgusted that I feel lonely and unloved, even though I am surrounded by people who love me. I have a family that loves me. I know it. I can see it in their actions and their words. My father has expressed many times how he and my mother love me. Yet, I feel disgusted that I feel empty inside when he says that. I feel disgusted that I'm so numb to the love that I craved so much growing up. I feel disgusted that I am so detached from the people around me.
I feel disgusted that I struggle so often with the simple spiritual things. I feel disgusted that I often forget to pray or study my scriptures. I feel disgusted that I forget about fasting. I feel disgusted that I resent going to church. I feel disgusted that when I go to church, all I can think about is my loneliness and my despair. I feel disgusted that I am too afraid to try to befriend the men in the ward. I feel disgusted that I'm not a regular home teacher and that I hardly know the names of the people I home teach currently. I feel disgusted at how easily I forget that I know and have felt that God loves me. I feel disgusted on how easily I abandon faith or hope when times get rough. I feel disgusted that I always think I have to do things 'on my own' without God's help or with help from anyone else.
Ultimately, I feel disgusted for who I am, how I feel, what I think about, what I do, and what I say.
I feel disgusted that I've worked on overcoming some of these things, but that they still come back. That I'm still detached. That I still don't know how to set clear boundaries. That I still feel so angry or lonely.
I hope by continuing to write this blog, I can learn more about myself. I hope that I can share my struggles. Hopefully it will help all of you that may feel similar things to me. I hope that by sharing this I can overcome the shame I feel. I hope that I can possibly learn to allow the people I love in closer into my life where I can feel their love and I can truly love them in return. Yet, as long as I continue to feel disgusted with myself, I will continue to struggle with the loneliness and anger that comes with it.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Tests, Touch, Therapy 2Nov2011
I've been feeling more positive, at least since yesterday night. There's been some interesting events in my life that may have changed things.
First off, touch is a very powerful force in my life. Based one what I've learned about myself, it's the primary why I feel that I am loved by another person. I've "known" this for years, but I didn't actually acknowledge until I went to Journey Into Manhood and later read 5 Love Languages. This is an important fact for the events I'm about to share.
This morning, I had to do a stress test for my heart. I felt pretty nervous. The technician prepped me for the test, which involved rubbing of my skin with some gel and hooking up more wires and electrodes than I think I ever want to see again. I sat and watched my heart rate, which was in the high 90's to low 100's. That's pretty high for a resting heart rate. Like I said I was nervous.
My doctor came in. When I saw him, I felt a brief stab of nervousness and anxiety. I feel an attraction toward my doctor. He came in, smiled at me, gave me a brief pat on the shoulder and looked at the ECG. Honestly, I did like that the doctor gave me a pat. It felt reassuring. Then he listened to my heart, while putting one hand on my shoulder. When he finished, I glanced at the ECG and my pulse had gone down to 68. After he moved away, my pulse quickly moved back up to the 90's.
I found it interesting, but I did notice I felt a good deal calmer when his hand was on my shoulder. I have noticed at times when I'm receiving healthy, appropriate touch from men, that I relax and start to feel sleepy. I am typically a pretty high strung person, and at times I feel desperate to be loved. I'm probably pretty close to exhausted most of the time, and when I finally feel loved, I let myself feel that exhaustion.
I'm guessing part of the fact that I'm feeling so well is also due to a therapy visit. My therapist and I talked about a few different things, and he was able to give me some good homework to do. The most challenging is to define what real masculinity is. At the end of the session, he gave me an even longer hug than normal, and was restating the homework that he gave me. I found it very reassuring.
To follow up with the therapy visit, I had a nice long talk with a friend on the phone who is a fellow same gender attraction struggler, and then a visit with another friend. It was wonderful to connect and feel understood. It was also nice to exchange some good healthy touch with another friend.
Anyways, back to the medical test. I went 14 minutes with the Bruce protocol, which is apparently 4 minutes longer than other people go. My doctor said my ECG looked excellent, and I have a 99% that I don't have any heart problems. The technician said I held the record for the longest person to do the test. I feel pretty proud of that although I'm feeling tired still.
First off, touch is a very powerful force in my life. Based one what I've learned about myself, it's the primary why I feel that I am loved by another person. I've "known" this for years, but I didn't actually acknowledge until I went to Journey Into Manhood and later read 5 Love Languages. This is an important fact for the events I'm about to share.
This morning, I had to do a stress test for my heart. I felt pretty nervous. The technician prepped me for the test, which involved rubbing of my skin with some gel and hooking up more wires and electrodes than I think I ever want to see again. I sat and watched my heart rate, which was in the high 90's to low 100's. That's pretty high for a resting heart rate. Like I said I was nervous.
My doctor came in. When I saw him, I felt a brief stab of nervousness and anxiety. I feel an attraction toward my doctor. He came in, smiled at me, gave me a brief pat on the shoulder and looked at the ECG. Honestly, I did like that the doctor gave me a pat. It felt reassuring. Then he listened to my heart, while putting one hand on my shoulder. When he finished, I glanced at the ECG and my pulse had gone down to 68. After he moved away, my pulse quickly moved back up to the 90's.
I found it interesting, but I did notice I felt a good deal calmer when his hand was on my shoulder. I have noticed at times when I'm receiving healthy, appropriate touch from men, that I relax and start to feel sleepy. I am typically a pretty high strung person, and at times I feel desperate to be loved. I'm probably pretty close to exhausted most of the time, and when I finally feel loved, I let myself feel that exhaustion.
I'm guessing part of the fact that I'm feeling so well is also due to a therapy visit. My therapist and I talked about a few different things, and he was able to give me some good homework to do. The most challenging is to define what real masculinity is. At the end of the session, he gave me an even longer hug than normal, and was restating the homework that he gave me. I found it very reassuring.
To follow up with the therapy visit, I had a nice long talk with a friend on the phone who is a fellow same gender attraction struggler, and then a visit with another friend. It was wonderful to connect and feel understood. It was also nice to exchange some good healthy touch with another friend.
Anyways, back to the medical test. I went 14 minutes with the Bruce protocol, which is apparently 4 minutes longer than other people go. My doctor said my ECG looked excellent, and I have a 99% that I don't have any heart problems. The technician said I held the record for the longest person to do the test. I feel pretty proud of that although I'm feeling tired still.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Music That Speaks To Me - In The Arms Of An Angel
Every so often, I find a song that I really like and that seems to speak about me and my life. The song seems to capture a small piece of me and put it to music. Today's song is just that.
Here is "Arms of the Angel" by Sarah McLacklan.
Lyrics:
Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
In the arms of an Angel fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
In the arms of an Angel far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
[From: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/s/sarah_mclachlan/#share]
This song almost never fails to bring tears to my eyes. It resonates so well with my life and how I feel like things. Most of the time, I find myself waiting for that 'second chance', that 'break' that will somehow make everything ok and good. Sometimes that 'second chance' takes the form of a best friend that I've always wanted. Sometimes it looks like being free from same gender attraction. Sometimes it looks like a father figure taking time to hold me.
Distraction. I live a good deal of my life distracted from my own emotions. I find myself always having to "entertain" myself. Sometimes it does make me feel good. Sometimes I even feel happy and content. When it's over, feelings of fear, loneliness, and grief tend to come back. When the 'usual' distractions of video games or YouTube don't work, I turn to more potent numbing agents like fantasy, masturbation, or even pornography. In some ways, these distractions are a release for me.
Here is "Arms of the Angel" by Sarah McLacklan.
Lyrics:
Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
In the arms of an Angel fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
In the arms of an Angel far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
[From: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/s/sarah_mclachlan/#share]
This song almost never fails to bring tears to my eyes. It resonates so well with my life and how I feel like things. Most of the time, I find myself waiting for that 'second chance', that 'break' that will somehow make everything ok and good. Sometimes that 'second chance' takes the form of a best friend that I've always wanted. Sometimes it looks like being free from same gender attraction. Sometimes it looks like a father figure taking time to hold me.
Distraction. I live a good deal of my life distracted from my own emotions. I find myself always having to "entertain" myself. Sometimes it does make me feel good. Sometimes I even feel happy and content. When it's over, feelings of fear, loneliness, and grief tend to come back. When the 'usual' distractions of video games or YouTube don't work, I turn to more potent numbing agents like fantasy, masturbation, or even pornography. In some ways, these distractions are a release for me.
Memories are not easy things for me to hold on to. I have so many emotionally charged memories. Some that are attached with anger, sadness, fear, rejection, or even memories of experiences that I interpreted as being sexual. I've found it easier to suppress them, to let them seep away from me. I have a hard time remembering specific things from my childhood. It only comes with effort.
The second verse seems to be very applicable. There are many times I've felt weary of living the gospel, of trying to follow the 'straight line'. It feels like the world is watching me, waiting for me to slip up. I feel like I have to keep building lies to keep myself safe from them all. It's easier to keep slipping back into destructive habits.
Ultimately, it all brings me to my knees. It brings me to pray. Many times, I've knelt and prayed for help, for answers, for friends, for guidance, for whatever it was I thought I needed. Many times, I've looked at other men, and wanted them to rescue me. I wanted to be rescued from the 'endless' nature of my problems and struggles. I've wanted so many times to be in the arms of an angel, to be held, to be comforted.
Last night, I went to a fireside. A man came and set next to me that I hadn't seen in awhile. I honestly value the man's friendship, but I judge he's a popular guy, so I don't contact him very often. It was nice to sit next to him, and have him put his arm on the bench behind me. I wanted, crazy, desired, was that he would put his arm around me. I wanted him to hold me and to shelter me. As I was leaving, I saw a second man that I also wanted to hold me. I've noticed my fantasies as I lay down to sleep seem to have a pattern. I imagine up something strong and masculine to come and shelter me, to hold me.
Many times, my prayers to be comforted have been answered. I have felt many times like a divine presence has comforted me, hugged me. Sometimes it's been with another man in a safe and appropriate location. It's been incredibly wonderful to be held again.
Even though I tasted of the positive aspect of this, I feel fear and frustration. Why as an adult man do I crave being held by a father figure? Shouldn't I be past this? I think the answer lies in not bonding sufficiently with dad while growing up. Because I withdrew and detached so early from him, I didn't give him the chance to love and shelter me when it was appropriate. Part of the answer also may lie in my 'love language'. I typically feel most loved while being touched. That definitely is a part of me that needs to be explored in a separate blog post to give it justice.
I pray that soon I'll be able to pull myself from the wreckage, or that an angel is on it's way to help pull me out. Feels like it's been too long since I've trusted myself into the arms of an angel.
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