Sticky Note

My blog(s) have been deathly quiet.

This is attributed to my level of busy-ness.

I will take solace in the notion that this is a good thing.

Vacay

Sigh. I'm taking a break.

Much needed, methinks.

My best friend from High School is getting married this weekend, so I'm flying out - tomorrow - for a whole week of rest and relaxation. Time away. From everything.

Hopefully this will be good for me. :)

Keep Holding On

I've had so much on my mind the last few weeks... I know I haven't been diligent about blogging, and the little I have has been vague...

I don't have much to rectify that right now. I just wanted to say this. It's really, really hard being ripped in half every single moment of every day... and for two entirely different reasons. Agh.

Tonight I was watching GLEE as usual... and heard this song. And I cried.



You're not alone
Together we stand
I'll be by your side,
You know I'll take your hand

When it gets cold
And it feels like the end
There's no place to go
You know I won't give in
No, I won't give in

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

So far away
I wish you were here
Before it's too late, this could all disappear
Before the doors close
And it comes to an end
With you by my side I will fight and defend,
I'll fight and defend
Yeah, yeah!

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

Hear me when I say, when I say I believe
Nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change destiny
Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!

La da da da
La da da da
La da da da da da da da da

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

Keep holding on
Keep holding on

There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

The whole time I could only think one thing: That I don't deserve her.

Apparently I'm going to say more than I intended. So much for vague...

I felt really grateful and really scuzzy at the same time. It brought to the surface all my insecurities, all my doubts, all my realizations about how awful I am. I'm not good enough for her, I don't treat her the way I should, and it's so easy for me to be cold and hateful to her. She's still here... why? Shouldn't she just leave and find someone better? Someone who's not a jerk? Someone who can LOVE HER?

And it makes me crazy because it simply stirs up everything I'm already feeling as I try and sort this out... do I love her? Can I love her the way she needs to be loved? People say yes, people say no, there's screaming... I've lost friends... now what?

Inside my heart I wrestle with myself...because I just don't know if *I* am good enough. And even if I am...how do I convince myself of this reality? I just don't believe in my heart. I don't...

...guess I'll just Keep Holding On.

...

I'm ready to wake up from this NIGHTMARE loosely defined as "life."

Exhausted...

The fight has gone out of me. I'm so tired of trying to figure out my stupid, complicated life. And I'm sick of people judging me, assuming they can speak for me, tell me how to live, and what the hell I need to be doing with my life to be happy. Especially when they are people I love, care about, and trust, who in turn react negatively, presume to speak for me, and then tell me that I'm going to be miserable. They are right, they know-all, and they can speak for me and mine.

I could be pissed, I could be upset, I could be angry, I could come out fists flying to stand up for myself, make myself heard, and try to be understood.

But I'm too tired. I'm too beaten. I don't have the strength left to stand up and fight with you. Fine. Unfriend me on Facebook. Tell me that I'll be calling you in 10 years when I'm wrong. Scream at me. Yell at me. Beat me into the ground.

At the end of it all... I'm not going to do anything different.

In a week where everything falls apart and goes wrong, like getting wine dumped all over a very expensive outfit and having it effectively ruined; attempting to do a friend a favor and inadvertently cracking his windshield; getting belittled and berated by someone I really respected and looked up to for my apparent choices that (even though they are mormon and I'm heading in a very mormon direction) are going to make me miserable because let's remember that I'm gay and that should be more important than my faith in all regards; and having my civil suit (after 9 months) dropped out from under me without a second thought; when I am to the point where I feel the only other thing that can happen to me to make it any worse is getting run over AGAIN by a car (maybe this time I could die?)...

I will still find the strength to kneel down at the end of the day and Bless and Thank God for my trials, especially the ones that break and burn me. That's inside me, and I don't know how I do it, but it's there and it's me.

I want to give up, and I want to quit, and I want to get a gun... but in the end, I simply kneel down and thank God for destroying me. Again. So I can start picking up the pieces once more.

I'm so tired.

Intimacy

I'm just going to throw this out. I'm stewing and mulling and it's eating at me to blog it all, but I just don't know.

So I'll start here. I want as MUCH Feedback (Caveat: ON TOPIC) as possible with this post. This is a me reaching to the edges (hopefully) of the MoHo/MOM/Gay world.

I want to have some discussion with those who have (or if you know someone who has, please steer me/them in their/my direction) had intimate relations with men, then decided (for whatever reason(s)) to have/try relations with a woman. Those who are in MOM's and think about men and are with women, but have never actually been with a man don't apply to what I want to talk about.

Please if this is you (or you know anyone who fits this) I want to chat/email/call, etc.

Thanks.

Resignation

I'm sick of everything.

I don't want to try anymore.

That's all.

Resolve

This post is dedicated to anyone struggling in a relationship.

I will confess to loving this song so much that it's currently ranked #1 on my itunes. 247 plays since January. I think that's an average of at least once a day, but I don't do math, so I dunno. :) Cheers.



My tears run down like razorblades
And no, I'm not the one to blame
It's you ' or is it me?
And all the words we never say
Come out and now we're all ashamed
And there's no sense in playing games
When you've done all you can do

But now it's over, it's over, why is it over?
We had the chance to make it
Now it's over, it's over, it can't be over
I wish that I could take it back
But it's over

I lose myself in all these fights
I lose my sense of wrong and right
I cry, I cry
It's shaking from the pain that's in my head
I just wanna crawl into my bed
And throw away the life I led
But I won't let it die, but I won't let it die

But it's over, it's over, why is it over?
We had the chance to make it
Now it's over, it's over, it can't be over
I wish that I could take it back

I'm falling apart, I'm falling apart
Don't say this won't last forever
You're breaking my heart, you're breaking my heart
Don't tell me that we will never be together
We could be, over and over
We could be, forever

I'm falling apart, I'm falling apart
Don't say this won't last forever
You're breaking my heart, you're breaking my heart
Don't tell me that we will never be together
We could be, over and over
We could be, forever

It's not over, it's not over, it is never over
Unless you let it take you
It's not over, it's not over, it's not over
Unless you let it break you
It's not over

~It's Not Over, Secondhand Serenade

Consolation

At least the Void has good music :P This post is dedicated to MYSELF.



I’ve given up on giving up slowly,
I’m blending in so you won’t even know me
Apart from this whole world that shares my fate
This one last bullet you mention is
My one last shot at redemption
Because I know to live you must give your life away

Cause I’ve been housing all this doubt and insecurity
And I’ve been locked inside that house
All the while You hold the key
And I’ve been dying to get out
That might be the death of me
And even though, there’s no way in knowing
Where to go, I promise I’m going because
I gotta get outta here
I’m stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake
I gotta get outta here
And I’m begging You,
I’m begging You,
I’m begging You to be my escape.

I’m giving up on doing this alone now
Cause I’ve failed and I’m ready to be shown how
He’s told me the way and I’m trying to get there
And this life sentence that I’m serving
I admit that I’m every bit deserving
But the beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair

Cause I’ve been housing all this doubt and insecurity
And I’ve been locked inside that house
All the while You hold the key
And I’ve been dying to get out
That might be the death of me
And even though, there’s no way in knowing
Where to go, I promise I’m going because
I gotta get outta here
Cause I’m afraid that this complacency is
Something I can’t shake
I gotta get outta here
And I’m begging You,
I’m begging You,
I’m begging You to be my escape.

I am a hostage to my own humanity
Self detained and forced to live in this mess I’ve made
And all I’m asking is for You to do what You can with me
But I can’t ask You to give what You already gave

Cause I’ve been housing all this doubt and insecurity
And I’ve been locked inside that house
All the while You hold the key
And I’ve been dying to get out
That might be the death of me
And even though, there’s no way in knowing
Where to go, I promise I’m going because
I gotta get outta here
I’m stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake
I gotta get outta here
And I’m begging You,
I’m begging You,
I’m begging You to be my escape.

I fought You for so long
I should have let You in
Oh how we regret those things we do
And all I was trying to do was save my own skin
But so were You

So were You

-Be My Escape, Relient K

Void

Aporia. Self. Simultaneously one and the other. Self. Constituting a third term in binary opposition without leaving room for a solution. Self. The splitting open and deconstruction of systems of thought... Self.

Scott recently blogged about the "T/F" package deal of Mormonism, something I had to efface from my thoughts and mind in order to come to terms with myself as something other than an evil entity before the eyes of God.

But now what? Now where? What does an aporetic being do when he himself is broken down and torn into pieces by the very systems of thought he challenges and breaks down around him?

What do I do now that I've come to terms with me, and my path, and find that I systematically obliterated all restriction so that literally ANYTHING is possible?

How do you know which way to project yourself in the vast emptiness that is space when there is nothing around you to propel off of? I feel like I'm swimming, but there's no water. There's no land. There's nothing.

Just... nothing.

The options are there, the paths are known, but I am supposed to take the one that will make me happy... what if that's all of them? Any? None?

There is so much weighing down on me right now. I'm so heavy. So, so heavy. How do I ever hope to make this decision? The choice that trumps all other choice? The one that decides which path I walk? I've been here before.

Damn. The most frustrating thing is to see myself having progressed SO FAR, only to realize that it all comes back to the same place. To the same choice. To the same fight. Why doesn't this struggle ever end?

In a world of pure gray where black and white no longer matter, how do you choose a right? THE right? How should I know what to do? Spiritual confirmation is necessary some have told me... but where do you find that when you don't even really know how to pray? When you don't know what to believe in? I feel like I need to just give up and start over. Start at the very beginning. Dismantle my faith completely, set fire to it, and then start from the ground up. But how does that help me make the decision I am facing?

I was sure. Almost. I was getting there. And then I said something that made me realize otherwise. And now I don't know what to say. Who to counsel with. You want a neutral source, one without bias, but we all have our experiences and they all color us one shade or another in this world of pale gray light. So I'm quiet. And afraid. And I talk in circles, except for those who are so close they have ears to hear... and I don't spit what I'm thinking or feeling. I just stir. And think. And mull. And wonder. Can I? Can I do this?

I have always walked alone. I want to end that, but I'm not sure if when it really, really comes down to it that I actually know how. In a moment, a thought, a conviction, it's easy to go along and say "Yes," but as time flows and the cold snap breaks into the shards of progression, does my answer remain the same? I know how to be social, to get along, to be chummy, but people don't get close. Not THIS close. This is an anomaly, a difference, a chance.

But do I take it? Is it worth it? Is this what I want? Can I hack this path that has never been walked before? Will I be happy?

I doubt, and I drown, and I lament. I was walking on water... .

Now I'm floating. In an abyss of nothing. How will I ever decide? I need more time, but it's growing short because the window of opportunity is shrinking, the heart is closing, and I am still wondering.

Without True and without False, how do I decide Right for Me and Wrong for Me?

I'm content in a lot of areas of my life to not have answers, but I cannot proceed with the answer here. I MUST have it. I MUST know. I MUST decide.

I MUST escape this void and reclaim my aporetic self. It just helps to express my dismay in the meantime. :) Especially since I can't see a foreseeable end, solution, answer, or otherwise. The Void is very dark. Guess that makes it wrong in a T/F world. Hey, it's a start, right?

Holding On

This post is dedicated to Chris.



I thought the future held
A perfect place for us
That together we would learn to be
the best that we could be
In my naivety I ran
I fell and lost my way
Somehow I always end up falling over me

And one day
I woke to find
The future had no place
For me
I was unwanted in a world
That with my hands I helped build
Where once was honesty and pride
I now stand broken and alone
Just a shadow
Of what I was meant to be

They say that "Time will heal"
"The truth shall set us free"
Well that depends
On what it is
that you choose to believe
In this prison made of lies
We see what it is we want to see
And find comfort in this
Broken hall of dreams

Does anybody feel
the way I do?
Is there anybody out there?
Are you hearing me?

If I believe in you
Will you believe in me?
Or am I alone
in this hall of dreams?

I believe in you
You believe in me
But I have no trust
In anything
Somehow I'm always
always falling over me

Somehow I'm always
I'm always falling over me

~Holding On - VNV Nation

Sing

This post is dedicated to Beck and Bravone.



We sing the same song, you and I
With lead feet in deep water,
We cry out to live or die
Instead we're treading waves to stay alive
Our heads above the grave
But there's no one to save us this time

So I will sing and you will hear me
And join the chorus so we can start again, oh
Our voices raised are flawed but freeing
Our souls so we can change and start again, oh

My life's a painting I've done blind
With each brush stroke you'll watch me
Blur every solid line
Over this canvas I have stood
With no one left beside me
No one to decide if it's good

So I will sing and you will hear me
And join the chorus so we can start again, oh
Our voices raised are flawed but freeing
Our souls so we can change and start again
Again, again, again, again, again, yeah

I will sing and you will hear me
And join the chorus so we can start again, oh
Our voices raised are flawed but freeing
Our souls so we can change and start again
Again, again, again, again, again, again

~Sing - The Classic Crime

My followers keep increasing, and I'm not even posting anything. LOL So I prolly ought to start again.

[insert section where I come up with inane, fundamentally flawed, drippy list of reasons I have not been blogging] Yeah, no. I don't feel like it today.

However, I will share one, for the sake of sharing. The biggest and best reason I haven't been blogging is that I'm happy (outwardly and generally).

I really am having an amazing summer.

Traveling, spending time with those I care about, and really just being myself. There are downs, rough spots, and times I think too much, but life should never be a glass-like lake with no ripples or movement.

My main source of pain right now is for those who feel trapped in less-than-desirable circumstances, or cannot wholly be themselves. I wish I had answers for how to help these people, but I really don't. I'm not Gandhi or Mohammed.

Beyond outward appearances and general happiness, there's what's really going on deep inside of me that I don't give my full attention everyday because it would kill me. I'm happiest when I'm not worrying about me and my life. LOL Aren't we all though? Like a new food rolled on my tongue so I can form an opinion, I'm mentally debating some very, very weighty and tough decisions. I've not blogged them because, to be frank, open, and completely transparent; I'm worried of the response I will get. My skin isn't as thick as I like to pretend it is, and despite the affront I offer, I do care what people think of me. I'll openly admit my hatred for judgment.

If I can work up the courage, maybe I'll let you into the abscesses of my heart and mind and just come clean with everything that I'm feeling and thinking right now...

All I have is words
To which I`m a slave
I scribble them down
Hoping they'll
Save me
But I'm lost
I'm so lost

These pages will burn
And I'll pass away
Yesterday's gone
And I just can't shake
The fact that I'm lost
I'm so lost

-The Classic Crime, Far From Home

Free

Hmm. I haven't blogged anything since returning to the abyss that is Utah. I know I've had blogs stirring around in my head... but they apparently never make it to the page.

In some ways this is good. I'm out more, playing more, enjoying life more, and generally happier. Super step-up from the hell that was Florida.

Anyway, I'm 100% exhausted so I don't have much substantial to say.

I simply wanted to put out that this week I had the opportunity to be indiscriminately open to people about who I am, and it was so freeing.

Wonderfully so, actually.

And when being a gay man makes me even cooler than I would be otherwise, all the more added bonus.

Return

I'm back. I got tired of all the BS at my house, and I bought a plane ticket, and I skipped town.

Why I've come back to the most red, close-minded state, I'm not sure. Something draws me here though, and it definitely feels more like home than anywhere else. Besides the support system I have here is so much stronger.

So for those of you who read (or lurk, or stalk), but haven't had the opportunity to meet me, well here's your chance. Cuz I'm back in the UT, and lovin' life.

See ya round Utah kids.

Center

Today in Sunday School I announced that I was leaving and everyone was so upset. Teach told me later that she cried for me today, and she's not a crier. She realizes how hard it is for me here and can't understand why my parents can be the way they are.

The lesson was really good. We talked about living the religion, aka "how to not be a snooty bitch." And living it with truth. When we are down, and struggling, and bothered to no end by bigots, we simply need to remember this. Christ is the center. He is the everything. And everything, absolutely everything, he did was selfless. This is all about how we treat others, not anything else.

Most Mormons are masqueraders, and damn good ones at it too. They live by the book, they stick to the rules, and they follow their mold. And people like me don't fit that. I'm real, and I'm gritty. I've been hurt, and I've made serious mistakes.

And? My testimony is stronger and more powerful for it. See, most of these "God-fearing," unbending, close-minded Mormons don't know the meaning of true faith. They don't know what the spirit is really about, they don't know how to hear it, to recognize it, to understand it and, least of all, how to follow it. So they stick to their safe zones - their rituals, their parades, and their traditions of Mormonness. And they end up being snooty bitches to those who kick against their bullshit.

We are not. We've built our faith on blood, tears, sweat, and pain. We are the true followers and disciples here. And because of it, we live our religion differently than the rest, and that bothers them. They want to judge us, they want to condemn us, they want to think less of us. And I won't act like I'm completely beyond that either. When I first got here and saw that my teachers - the people giving me my spiritual recourse every week - seemed mostly inactive, swore, and seemed more interested in the lastest gossipy events than teaching me a lesson... I was ready to judge. I was ready to question. I could scorn, sure. These weren't "real" believers. They weren't "real" followers. What did they know about being spiritual or righteous?

No. No, no, no. These people are friends. True friends. And they have testimonies that beat out other members entirely. Others haven't been depraved alcoholics on the street fighting for a reason to keep moving forward. Others haven't fathered children out of wedlock and then had to deal with the stigma afterward. Others haven't had to reconcile parts of who they are to fit with the way they worship and love. The largest majority of them have been cut-and-dried, from-the-get-go followers, and I think deep down they are suffering for it. They are all teenagers desperate to find the way to move forward; and like deceptive, secretive, shameful lemming-like creatures they pander, and preen, and follow one another, always checking to make sure it's by the book, by the letter, and the way it's always been done. And even some who do know what it's like to be different try and cram themselves into the rules and the rituals and the way it's supposed to be, comparing they way they live their religion to everyone else, and trying to fit in as much as possible.

This is wrong. How many of these people I look at in Sacrament Meeting as I spout off words of a hymn telling me that my home should be a heaven on earth actually have that? How many of them don't have vices and secrets and problems? How many of them truly, deeply, wholly live and move every moment by the power of the spirit and allow that to govern all they do and say and are? How many?

I think that our (I can't remove myself entirely from being at fault here too) falsity, our professed faith, and vain meanderings measure up to nothing less than Rameumptom-discipleship. And it's hurting us as a Church.

Whenever I begin to doubt, and I begin to waver, and I am discouraged, and fed up, and tired of bullshit, I need to remember.

Remember that I live my faith, and my actions are real. All of them. I don't pretend to read my scriptures every day, I don't pretend to pray when I get up and go to bed. I don't do fake Mormonism, rules, rituals, and motions. I give of myself to others. I remember the center. I remember Christ, and I follow Him, and I try and be like him. I strive to find the Spirit, know the spirit, and follow the Spirit. I'm HONEST about my faith, and most of all, I'm humble about following Christ. My job is to serve and to love, the end. I'm not here to promote myself, or show you what an awesome Mormon I am by getting up and bearing my testimony while I cover up my vices and my problems. Too many people forget that as they work desperately to prove themselves within the church, to be on display - look at me magnifying my calling! I'm celestial material!

Forget the nay-sayers, and the mockers, and the doubters, and most of all, the haters. Live your religion the way you want, and I will live mine the way I know. The way that burns to my core, pulls at my heart, and pleases my God. This is my religion, and yes, it's the same as yours, only I live it differently. And that's okay. And it needs to be okay with you too. This is truth, and this is real, and you can't take it away from me no matter how hard you try to push me away or get me to follow your "proper way" and pretend nothing's wrong with me and that I never mess up and I never struggle or that everything is easy and perfect. Never.

F M L

As if it couldn't get worse. As if it couldn't hurt more. As if.

Tonight my Dad came into my room and wanted to have a "father son chat." Oh boy, here it comes. And then it did.

Full force, and with more oomph than I was expecting. And now I'm hurting, and crying, and I just want to...

I need to get out of here.

Yes, I'm looking for jobs. Yes, I'm trying to do something (that's a lie. The depression that has curled itself around me tighter than a glove leaves me unable to do anything but wile my hours away on the internet playing mindless games - which is ALL I do. Everyday, every minute, there I am. Buried).

Have I looked for a job? Yes. Have I applied to grad school? No. He thinks I should. But I'm broke and I can't afford it... ugh. Am I writing? No. Not a lick. Because I can't concentrate, and I can't handle this place.

I need insurance, I need a phone, I need a place to live. All money I don't freaking have. And the kicker...

He said I was welcome to stay here but I can't keep acting the way I do. Just because I slipped up and said the word "damn" today where my mom could here, now I'm in trouble? He also claims that I use the word "crap" too much. I outright told him I didn't appreciate his hypocrisy since I'm not the only one who says it. And then he swore up and down that they had it totally under control and no one said that before I came back. Bullshit.

I hate this place. I hate it, I hate it, God. I HATE IT.

F M L.

Drowning Pool

I'm stuck and I don't know how to move forward.

I've become completely crippled by depression and loneliness.

Funny how you can feel the same way you did almost 2 years ago...and wonder if anything's really different:

"I feel sick to my stomach and disjointed today. One of those days where you are so disconnected from yourself that it affects even your 'pretending to be okay' functionality.

I want to cry, but don't remember how and it never helps anyway. I don't want to be alone anymore. I have no direction, no hope. And when you don't have hope, life isn't a very fun experience."

In sacrament we sat behind the lady I overheard last week and I just glowered the whole time. The message resonated in my head to not let other people and their judgments affect me - don't let it interrupt the reasons I come to church... but I couldn't do it. I wouldn't even sing again. She has silenced my voice. And I don't how to recover from that.

Sunday School was about optimism, but it didn't sink in. I listened to the lesson, I commented, I appreciated, but I didn't absorb. I didn't internalize. The darkness is too thick around me.

My stomach won't stop hurting; I'm curled up in my bed, bawling, so alone, wishing for that which I have only truly felt once in my life: peace.

Why can't I have it? If I want it so bad I'm ready to kill myself over it, why won't you give it to me? What else do I have to do to beg you?

As if I didn't have enough on my plate already, I also found out this week - firsthand - that my little sister has started purging. She went in the bathroom and I heard every gut-wrenching moment of it. At first I thought I misheard. Then I thought maybe she was sick. No. She kept gagging over and over and over. It was so loud. I was sick for the rest of the day. Really? I didn't have enough already? More?

The only time I have ever ached in my body this much for my family was the time my brother tried to commit suicide in his room after losing his girlfriend, and I was left holding the bloody knife while my mom dragged him to the ER.

It's so heavy. More than chains and cement blocks dragging me down to death. Is there peace here? At the bottom of the choking blanket, when I open my mouth to gulp in death, will I find it?

I don't want to be here anymore, I don't want to do this anymore. I'm just too tired. And too battered. Being alone - being Jesus - is too much for me to handle.

The Resurrection of Hope

Pressing on week to week. I get up and I go to Church. And I pretend everything's okay.

Today was no different.

Until I got to Church. I had literally been sitting 3 seconds when I overheard the woman behind me talking to a man about how proud she was. Apparently her son's school newspaper had published an article about gays and lesbians and the woman went to the School Board and all the way to the superintendent and was proud as punch to pull out all the ammunition she could find in order to get the article rescinded. The man asked what the article was about, did it present anything? She replied, it advocated a lifestyle, one that was inappropriate and didn't belong there. And she had researched and she felt absolutely justified in battling such evil.

And I lost it. Inwardly, my shell crumbled. All my protection, all my denial, all my pressing forward in desperate, waning hope... All this. Before the opening song. Well, that ruined the spirit for me. I wouldn't even sing the hymns, and I love singing. Sacrament was drab, dull, and I was boiling with hate for this judgmental woman whom I would no longer call friend. Why? I asked myself, why do I even come here? I thought of walking out a number of times. Going to the parking lot, breaking down, casting off my pretenses, and just sobbing.

Sunday School. My teachers, the married-with-two-kids YSA representatives, were 25 minutes late. I'm just glad they were here this week (Bro. O has been to church twice in the last six weeks). They travel alot, and don't ever get a substitute. They aren't what I would judgingly call the "strongest" of Mormons, but I do believe they are sincere about their faith.

When we do have a lesson, it's usually short, and something like a 5-second thought, because they are too busy chattering with the other kids who come.

But today was different. Bro. O actually followed the spirit and put aside the lesson he'd prepared, and then flat out asked why we come to church. What keeps up coming back? Why do I get out of bed in the morning and come there? I jokingly replied, "My dad."

But it soon turned serious. One girl said, "Because I need to strengthen my testimony." Another, "Because this is one of the few things that brings me happiness anymore." Then it was my turn. I replied, "Because this is a place to grow closer to God, and that's what I'm trying to do."

Bro. O nodded and then asked, "But do you believe in the church?" I replied, "That's open for debate." Then I clarified, "I believe in the doctrines, but not the people. Most of the people suck."

He nodded. That was what he wanted to talk about. And so we did. We talked about prejudice, and hate, and how so many Mormons are discriminatory. He said that they have, oh guess what?, a number of friends who are gay and still trying to stay in the church, and for the first time I knew that I'd be okay being honest with them.

Each one of the students knew exactly what he was talking about, and the girls talked about how eye-opening (and faith-shaking) it was to be brought up in young women's and never have anyone talk about you, and be taught that everyone and everything in the church is perfection and goodness and righteous. Then as soon as they graduated, the hate began. The gossip. The distaste for their choices.

One moved in with a boy.
One dated (and married) a non-member.
One is continually judged for being overweight.
Another slept with his girlfriend and now has a kid.

All of them have received less-than-kindness at one time or another. In this way, I am not so different.

But the question bubbles to the surface: WHY? Jesus supped with publicans, the church is supposed to be a place of refuge - a hospital - not a place of judgment.

Yet we do it. All of us (yours truly easily included). Bro. O could feel the hate emanating from me, and so I told them about the woman behind me in Sacrament this morning.

It was stated that there are NOT good and bad people out there. We are all both. Just like Asher Lev taught me. :) "There is in my hand the power of demons and of divinity. Two aspects, one force. Creation, creativity, are; all demonic and divine." I AM DEMONIC AND DIVINE. There are no good people who do bad things. There are no bad people with good intentions. There are just HUMANS. And that if anything is what Mosiah 3:19 is about, when it describes the natural man: judging.

We do things, and say that we are doing good, but fail to consider how many we are hurting. If it hurts people, and destroys lives... if it pushes me away, then how can you call it good?

It was a very enlightening discussion and exactly what I needed to keep me going right now. I refused to write my comments on Conference because I knew how faithless and questioning they were... and I felt like I didn't measure up.

Others are still here and they are still going.

I kept saying to myself, they are sticking it out. They are continuing to fight. I'm tired of fighting, but I don't know how to quit. I don't know how to walk away.

I don't know how to reach the freedom of struggle.

And then the thing that really struck me... after we were done talking about these people who judge and hate, and don't live the religion the way we want them too... Bro O. said, "Don't let any of these people, or the things they convey, be the reason you stop coming. Don't let them drive you away. Keep coming because of the reasons you hold in your heart."

And so inwardly I'm weeping. Because I have a reason to hope again. I was drowning, sucking water into my lungs greedily, waiting for the blackness to take me, and then in my darkest moment, my hand was grabbed. And I was pulled up just a little.

But A Little's Enough.

The Death of Hope

Going into Conference, I will admit that I as hopeful. As I am every Conference. They say that if you prepare, and you hope, and you pray, that you will find the answers you're looking for. And so I do the same thing everytime, and end up feeling jaded. This time was no different.

This was the first conference I didn't attend in person since returning from my mission 3+ years ago. But I made a day of it anyway, leaving home for the first session and just chilling at the church until it ended (I took a lunch and a book both days).

If you are a sincerely converted, deeply believing Mormon, I warn you in advance some of this may be a little startling. I'm just going to go down the list and give you my reactions as I penned them in my little notebook. This is 100% honest, sincere, guttural, and intensely emotional - consider this your fair warning disclaimer.

SATURDAY MORNING SESSION
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pres. Monson - He said "the work is moving forward uninterrupted" and immediately the hope and strength I had mustered in putting on my tie and bringing myself to hear these words in hope of upliftment, begin to falter. Are you ignoring all the issues before your eyes? How can you honestly stand by such a statement and say that there are no interruptions to the work of God?

You pray for me but do you have a place for me here?

Coming into conference, and having it start this way I find myself more skeptical than ever before. I'm just not as ready to believe. Prayers for Bobby states that questioning spawns deeper faith - Am I simply in the limbo before I get there? Or will I never make it?

Robert D Hales - I need to have hope, in my Savior.

Is my deepest hunger a love of God? I don't really think so. I think it's to have a place, to feel equal. I know with all my being that God loves me, but does the Church? Because I still don't see that.

Margaret Lifferth - Reverence

Michael A Neider - Virtue. Live by quorum and priesthood principles.

Allen F Packer - Deep personal conviction. Where is it? This is the way to build on rock.

Desire, Experiment, Study and learn (Ponder), Have realistic expectations of inspiration/revelation, and ASK.

So are my expectations for answers to the questions that continue to vie for purchase in my heart and mind unrealistic? Unattainable?

The lord needs EACH of us, I have work to do. There's a reason I'm not dead, so why can't I see it? Why don't I know where to go?

D Todd Christofferson - Covenants provide the faith necessary to persevere through all tribulation. Faith also grows through trails. So is this my hang-up? My covenants aren't all in 100% working-order, so I can't hack it anymore? Getting everything back where it needs to be would cost so much, am I ready to pay the price? Is it worth the cost? That's a question I really want answered.

Henry B Eyring - We are human. Comfort gives way to distress, good health wanes, and misfortune happens. And the one he didn't say: Good intentions don't necessarily work without harming others.

Is God indifferent? Does he just not care about the way we suffer, racked with pain and agony? Greater trust is only gained through trials. Then brings the joy of forgiveness, to heal and help us. So how much more is more? How much deeper does deep go? How many more tears do I have to cry in order to wash my soul clean? Trials are an invitation to grow, and faith endures when it's hard. This is why I'm still here right now, despite my misgivings, my struggles, my doubt and the inherent discrepancies I see in the conduct and attitude of the Saints.

One day I want to be able to say this: "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith" 2 Tim 4:7

SATURDAY AFTERNOON SESSION
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
M Russell Ballard - Darkness results when we turn our backs. So which way does that mean I'm facing? Where is the so-called "collapse of morality?" Everyone raves on and on about the moral depravity and rampant collapse of values and principles, but I have yet to see documentation of this. I have yet to understand that there is a world-threatening endemic of people ravishing the streets have wild, gratuitous sex with whomever they come across. Where is the evidence of this collapse? The economic collapse - that I believe in because I can see it.

This was one of the first talks where I felt a strong sense of irony as he preached about the past repeating itself, and I thought about the Church and it's position with the Blacks and how that changed. Is this the next repeat?

Why do you, whom I look to as leaders, and guiders, and the ones in whom I should place my trust - WHY do you dance with your words and skirt the issues? If you're going to take a stand, then by all means, TAKE IT. Come out and say exactly what you intend to do, and who you are going to do it against, so that I can have something solid in which to base my decision and know for sure what's going to happen. Then I can make my informed decision without your damned ambiguous vagueness.

Quentin L Cook - No notes.

Kevin W Pearson - Fear and faith cannot coexist. We get what we focus on - so is my focus misplaced? Is my hope in the wrong thing? Should I just go back to grinding myself against the wall some more so that my focus is directed to the right place? Even if it kills me? At least my focus will be in the right place...

Rafeal E Pino - Adversity happens.

Richard G Scott - Going to the temple is #1. More important than addressing the situation of those struggling? Stop mincing words! I need to thank the Lord more for trusting me enough to give me adversity? Stop your bitching, there's no reason to complain if you're living worthily.

Russell M Neslon - To be forgiven, you must first forgive.

Unity is key, but it's going to fail in the face of unacknowledged divisions. How can you build unity around secrets, prejudices, and false judgment?

SATURDAY EVENING SESSION
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Boyd K Packer - Read D&C 89. Resist the impulses that will trouble your spirit. The hardest part of war is UNCERTAINTY. You don't know how it will end. Who's going to be a casualty?

Happiness is NOT available to me according to his definition. Because that is only found in taking a woman to the temple, where "happy" is.

Richard C Edgely - Get a job.

Claudio R M Costa - Give faithful service.

Dieter F Uchtdorf - Focusing on being gay and finding my way and place in the church seems vitally important, but is it causing me to crash? Am I going to go down and miss the truth? Am I focused just on a burnt out bulb?

Henry B Eyring - The wounds of sin are not readily felt at inception, and if not resolved, fester and kill. So how have I survived? Shouldn't I be long dead with all the "sin" in my life that goes unmentioned?

"Man Down!" Help your brothers! Go above and beyond the call of duty. What hypocrisy! How can you profess to do this? How can any of you claim to stand here and do this? What about the 100's already down? What about me? I've been screaming MAN DOWN for months, years. Where is my aid? Where is my rescue? I don't even know who the enemy is that's shooting me. Is it the advancing menace? Or those who would call themselves friend? Where's MY badge of honor for fighting for all of you even when you turn your backs and disdainfully leave me here to die?

Pres. Monson - Study diligently, Pray fervently, and Live righteously. Are these principles fully incorporated into my life? Or ignored? Prayer provides spiritual strength and is a passport to peace. So why hasn't it EVER EVER EVER worked for me?

SUNDAY MORNING SESSION
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dieter F Uchtdorf - Hunger for meaning and purpose... oh wait I do. The more we hear the gospel truth, the more faith and hope blossom within us, filling our hearts and minds... NO. I don't feel this. Where's my disconnect? How did I break somewhere?

The gospel supposedly has the answers to ALL problems. So where the hell are they? Why aren't you giving them to me? What is the "ultimate formula for success and happiness?" (besides the one I can't fulfill).

Day after day after day after bloody day I do what you say but get NO closer to elusive happiness. None. "Practice what you preach." HA! Okay, I'm waiting for you to live up to that hypocritical statement.

I stop, I see myself. Yesterday: Innocent, naive, full of hope, budding with joy for Christ and His church. And again Today: Tired of crying, of fighting, of pushing myself away from inviting death, waiting for someone, anyone, to finish my faith that I continue daily to retch toward the thing I love most that only returns hate to me.

God sees me forever. What does he see? What do YOU see?

Neil A Andersen - Keeping covenants in these days of destiny will be a badge of honor in the eternities. Well, I already forfeited mine, so now what?

Steven E Snow - No notes.

Barbara Thompson - No notes.

Jeffrey R Holland - Finally in this battery of hate, lack of acceptance, indifference toward my plight, and hypocritical preaching, I find something which provides me a flicker of new hope, which I desperately cling to.

Jesus is who I follow. He is the reason I am still here. He has walked alone, just as I am. ALL turned against him.

Judas was a special witness of Christ. An apostle of God. He saw Jesus heal, heard him pray. And yet, he could betray him? Don't JUDGE Judas. The apostles Peter, James, and John fell asleep in the Savior's greatest hour of need. THREE TIMES.

Peter denied Christ three times.

Jesus' support circle collapsed around him (though the women stayed - way to go faithful ladies!)

Jesus had no comfort, no companionship. So why should *I* expect any? God went through this hell of hells, and I need to be like him right? Was Jesus emotionally prepared for what he suffered? He made it through, and that is sufficient reason to continue hoping, and to press forth. God was pleased with his Son.

Jesus pressed on even when he was in complete anguish; completely, and abjectly alone.

I STAND BY JESUS.

Pres. Monson - The moral footing of society continue to slip? You are the PROPHET OF GOD! It your duty, calling, and obligation to sound your voice as a TRUMP to shake all nations against deviance and wickedness. If Prop 8 is WRONG, then come out and say so! Don't just mildly refer in passing to things which upset you. Tell me so I can know to leave!

2 Ne 2:25 "Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy." Okay, HOW? How the hell do I achieve this when you stand there and paint it against me? When you paint me on the other side of you and all those who are righteous?

You tell me to center my life on the gospel. I AM. I DO. And it's done nothing but bring me closer to DEATH.

The future is as bright as my faith? Well, that's going to be a problem...

SUNDAY AFTERNOON SESSION
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dallin H Oaks - What am I willing to sacrifice for the Lord? Happiness? Normalcy? Equality? I have a different destiny.

Ignore your plight, ignore yourself. Forget your conflict, forget your problems. Just serve! With a smile! Everything will be peachy peachy!

Bullshit.

David A Bednar - Temples are the focus. Celestial marriage is the goal. The only goal worth having.

-In this painting, I have no place. So why do I stay?

All in the gospel looks to the temple. Here is where the highest blessings are available - just not to me.

Take upon ye the name of Christ and then wage war viciously and unrelentingly against all who would threaten you because God will protect you in righteousness. Is he really saying this? This is like a free pass to just hate us more and more and it's okay. What more permission do the Saints need?

Gary E Stevenson - Go to the temple or you are the mist of darkness.

Jose A Teixeira - We are born with GPS, to know right and wrong. So why the hell is it so HARD? Confusing? I keep the commandments, but... no one's guiding me - how do *I* know?

F Michael Watson - Wisdom of those who have gone before and those with us still will lead us and guide us on the search. But where is that going to lead me? Barred doors?

Master speaks through his Prophets... so WHY do they continue to be silent when I'm screaming for all I'm worth? "Man Down!" We need more than a talk for me to believe this.

L Tom Perry - Be a better missionary - warn your neighbor. (And then when they get baptized, they can do what E.Bednar suggests and hate everyone else).

Pres. Monson - The words don't even phase me anymore. It's over - again. I've spent more than 60 HOURS listening to these men spit words looking for something to hold on to, something to give me a reason to continue trying to cut myself into the mold I don't fit, and again, I'm leaving empty-handed.

Hate and bitterness, scorn and rage, are all growing in my heart. The scary thing is that I don't know how to stop them. I don't know how to save myself from falling apart the rest of the way. "Choose ye this day whom ye will serve" - but I'm WEAK, so I serve Satan, right?

End.

After it was over, my dad picked me up and said, "So did you enjoy it?"

I deadpanned and replied, "No."

He wasn't expecting that. But he did get points by actually turning down the radio and asking why.

And then I exploded. "Because every time I go looking for answers, I only end up with more questions. It compounds the hate and loathing I already have for myself, and leaves me feeling utterly hopeless because the "focus" the "goal" is something I can't have, and it's something I can't achieve."

I paused and looked at him, "And most of the time I wish that it wasn't such a part of me - that it wasn't so deeply in my heart and soul. Because then I could walk away, make peace, and move on with building my own happiness. But I just can't do that, and it's destroying me. Why do I have to believe? Why?"

He really wasn't expecting that. And he didn't reply. But I didn't expect him too. He listened, and that was enough.

And so I'm breaking down. And I can't hack it anymore. I'm ready to be done. But just as I felt enslaved to the devil as a child with sexual desires, now I feel chained to the church with my spiritual ones. The role has reversed, but I'm just as bound as ever.

And I hate it.

That's why I wouldn't write about it. Because I don't want you to see my pain, my hurt, my frustration. Because I don't want you to understand. Or sympathize. Or try and comfort me.

It's easier to pretend nothing's wrong. Nothing's broken. I'm not floundering in a sea of doubt and despair. I'm full of hope and joy, and forgetting myself I'm simply beaming with service, loving everyone as they love me back, warmly, openly, and wholly. I put on my tie, shine my shoes, and go to church because it makes me feel so safe and happy...right?

Self-same Silence

I'm not blogging, not because I don't want to.

Because I can't.

I'm fiercely in denial, in order to hold together the fractured pieces of my world. The other day I knocked a lid off one of my mom's kitchen decorations - a glass strawberry - and it shattered into pieces. My little sister taped it back together with scotch tape. Pathetic, and not entirely the same (there are still chips and tiny fragments missing), but it's there. This is me in every sense.

Only I'm effacing the reality, because I don't want to breakdown and start drowning again. Yes, I'm ready to hack blogging now - that's a difference; but I'm still flailing wildly against the quicksand of despair and screaming desperately as I try to prop up the crumbling citadels of hope and faith.

Lying is so much easier. It's pain-free, care-free, and un-stressful.

I need to talk about Conference. How wholly unhelpful it was. How hurtful it was. How much it brings to the surface everything I'm trying to force back under the water with all my might in the hopes that it will finally run out of air and just DIE.

But it never will.

It fights, and kicks back, and I'm just not strong enough to beat the Goliath; even if I am David.

My old Bishop -friend and more- called me last night, and I spoke to him of it. For the first time. My facade dissipated and I became real for a brief, choking moment. As the Assistant Director of the counseling department of BYU, he talks to people like me all the time. And he told me that he's having the SAME conversation with others. The SAME one.

But... I'm not ready to talk about that. Not yet. But it's coming soon.

Like a child growing inside of me, except it's fully aware; kicking, and tearing at my insides, until it finally rips its way outside of me. It's only a matter of time before that happens, and my guts and blood, and dripping soul will slather the pages of this blog for your prying, wondering, hopeful... pitying eyes to read.

Far from Home ~ Closer than We Think

This is how I really feel...

FAR FROM HOME - Classic Crime's EP, pre-2nd album


I’ve got a bad
Taste in me
It’s like I’ve been robbed
Of something I once was
In my childhood memories

And it’s buried in sandboxes
Backyard where we used to see
That dreams could come true
If believed
The sidewalks scream our names

We are so
Far from home
Far from home

I’ve got a bad
Pain in my heart
It’s like the first time
That I looked in your eyes
The first time
It all fall apart

And it’s buried in sandboxes
Backyard where we used to see
That dreams could come true
If believed
The sidewalks scream our names

We are so
Far from home
Far from home

But now we are so
Far from home
Far from home

All I have is words
To which I’m a slave
I scribble them down
Hoping they'll
Save me
But I’m lost
I’m so lost

These pages will burn
And I’ll pass away
Yesterday’s gone
And I just can’t shake
The fact that I’m lost
I’m so lost

But now we are so
Far from home
Far from home

Now
We are so
Far from home
Far from home

But now we are so
Far from home
Far from home
Far from home

We are so
Far from home
Far from home

Now we are so
Far from home
Far from home

Now we are so
Far from home
Far from home

CLOSER THAN WE THINK - Classic Crime's 2nd album


What's it gonna take for me
On my hands and knees
While all the poets fill pages of loose leaf
I feel cheap, and I feel empty
We will bathe in the sea of disbelief
But we will not go quickly.
No, we will not die so easily.

And I knew that this would happen
It always does
And I couldn't stop my reaction
So I let it come
I let it come

I still hold the belief
That we are free,
That we don't need the rules
To see
That despite what we've done
We're not alone
We're closer than we think to home

It didn't take me long to believe
That I could do anything,
Turn the songs up loud
So we can sing
I am true
And I am living
We will walk through the valley
Of the shadow
Of the boring
And burn it all
No, we will not go quietly

And I knew that this would happen
It always does
And I couldn't stop my reaction
So I let it come
I let it come

I still hold the belief
That we are free,
That we don't need the rules
To see
That despite what we've done
We're not alone
We're closer than we think to home

To home, to home
To home, to home
To home, to home
To home, to home

Across the water you call me
But I'm not listening
As I sink down
Water fills my lungs
As I begin to drown
I knew that this would...

I still hold the belief
That we are free,
That we don't need the rules
To see
That despite what we've done
We're not alone
We're closer than we think to home.

Public Eye

I'm tired. Of hiding. Of fighting. Of pretense. Of debating.

So I'm just going to open myself. I have nothing to hide. Let all who wish to follow do so. I welcome your support, thoughts, prayers, constructive comments, etc.

One step closer to being the real me.

Bring on the public.

Remade Frustration - Questions

My stomach hurts; what else is new?

OTR and I had a number of discussions after Prayers for Bobby on faith, and the Church, and everything else. Doubt is rampant. My testimony muddled. My confusion...unending.

I sit in Church every week and feel little, wishing to be elsehwere. Watching, listening, taking note. There are very few true Christians there. People going on and on and on about Nature of God this, I know Joseph saw that, but like Tommy says, how is that adding to their growth and movement in the Kingdom?

As I half-listened to the testimonies today, I thought about going up there. About talking about being a true Christian. About pleading with the people to return to "a hospital rather than Pebble Beach". But I didn't. Honestly, who would listen? 

Every day that Scot and Rob, and others, are prejudiced against, every day that Prop 8 creeps up in conversation, everyday people get in trouble for trying to make a difference, then what's the point? In Sunday School we were talking about "The True and Living Church" which my teacher hated, so she changed the title to "Church Organization ala Restoration" which I felt was much more fitting. We were reading in D&C 20 which is basically the Church's "Constitution" and outlines the formation of the Church, then goes into the Plan of Salvation. 

31 "And we know also, that sanctification through the grace of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is just and true, to all those who love and serve God with all their mights, minds, and strength."

32 " But there is a possibility that man may fall from grace and depart from the living God"

33 "Therefore let the church take heed and pray always, lest they fall into temptation"

34 "Yea, and even let those who are sanctified take heed also."

I found the part about the church falling into temptation very interesting. Zion's Camp failed because of the dissidence and unbelief in the church, well, when I look around now, all I see is pride and self-righteousness. Sure, there's love and support, but honestly, deep down, I only remember one testimony today given where I said to myself, "That man is a Christian, and believes it."

This past weekend riled up a lot of thoughts in my mind. I went on the Father/Son campout, held on an island in the ocean, which was pretty cool. But I didn't relate to many of the men there; no, talking to the kids was far, far easier. None of the men made any effort to include me, or carry on conversation either. One man did invite me to sit down, and then about 6 minutes passed in silence, the two of us just sitting there. I've been having alot of doubts recently wondering about my future children and if I really want to bring them up in the gospel and the church. I mean, it's a great place, right? It protects them, and teaches them how to stay afloat in a drowning world, right? But I just don't know. One of the little 7 yr olds I befriended had on a bracelet that said "Future Missionary" and I just wondered. Is this right? Is this okay? Is this the way it should be? What does this boy whose head is already filled with dreams of being a great missionary bringing people to the gospel know of equality? Or true charity? Of undying, unbiased love? Anything?

I find myself growing more and more dissatisfied with the solitary stance that our Church takes. One of the testimonies that really bothered me this morning was a man who was going on and on about the misfortune in his neighborhood, and the economic problems, and the relationship difficulties, etc, etc, etc and then he went on to profess how blessed he was, how BETTER he was, just because he's a member of our Church. I was extremely bothered by that. And then as a ward today everyone was fasting for those who were struggling or having trouble, and I just felt like they were once again trying to assert their superiority because they have blessings and the others don't. Where's the Jesus Christ in that?

I've been fighting with my mom alot recently too, which hasn't helped me. Once OTR left I decided that the "remake" of myself lay in me and only me. I mean we wholly determine our attitude, circumstance, etc; that's why agency is so amazing and powerful. So that first day I woke up early, made my bed, cleaned my room, went for a bike ride, went swimming, took a shower, and felt really excited for the day. Then came the brushes with my mom, who for some reason has taking to picking at me. For the way I talk, the way I dress, she even yelled at me one evening for the way I was sitting on the couch. That really offed me. She goes on and on about respecting her, about this is her space, this is her house, and clearly, I have NO place in it. She cannot have respect for me and accommodate me within her threatened respect. So I felt shattered, and closed myself off in my room, since it's the only space I have here that's mine. Were moving possible, I would have already done it. Were going elsewhere possible, I would have done that too. But I have no one here; nothing. So I'm stuck. The next three days were spent in my room, behind a closed door, feeling completely unwanted and unwelcome. Then since I wouldn't speak to her, my mom took the fight to email. It was incredibly draining.

And just yesterday I went to the grocery store, and I believe this is partly due to watching all the little ones scurrying around at the campsite, but I'm becoming resigned, and it scares me. Utterly frightens me. I've been thinking about the future, and if we go into the Peace Corps, I'll get back and be almost 28. And then I started to despair. Be honest. I'm not going to have kids, am I? I'm already 25 and I'm not going to be one of those happy people married young with beautiful, hyper kids disrupting church meetings. I am beginning to accept the entirely disheartening reality that I will never have children of my own. People say that if you can dream it, you can do it... so where' my confirmation? Where's my solution? Why can't I have what I want most? Why am I denied such happiness? WHY DAMMIT?

Conference is looming on the horizon, and I'm scared out of my mind. This will be the first year in 7 that I'm not attending in person at the Conference Center. I have a friend in Michigan who keeps calling me, wondering why I haven't made "right" with the Church. When I was at BYU I made some mistakes, and if I'm honest, has compromised my Church worthiness, which is why I don't participate in anything, or use my priesthood ever. She's been waiting for a year now for me to get "back on the path" but I'm fairly certain that will lead to excommunication before I get my temple recommend back and can have fixed everything that I've broken.

I'm not even sure I WANT to. I don't know where I stand with the Church anymore, as alot of bloggers have been wrestling with as well. Are we wrong? Is this really the path to hell? Can I really turn my back on what I've believed for so long, so deeply? How many times have I wanted to before and failed? Will this be my breaking point? Why do I have to have such a conviction and surety? Why can't this just be easy, and I cut the ties and free myself from pain and guilt and suffering and prejudice? Damn this church for the beliefs it has given me. Damn this church for instilling them in me from my youth. Damn me for believing in them soul, heart, might, and mind.

So General Conference is coming, and I'm wondering what will be said. Will I feel sick like previous years? Will I cry? Will they address what I need them to? Will God finally talk to me through his chosen prophets? We sang "We Thank Thee O God For a Prophet" around the campfire on the trip, and I was hesitant. Then it was the closing song in Sacrament today, and I didn't sing. I DIDN'T. Because I don't know. Do I thank God for a prophet? Do I even believe in Thomas Monson as a prophet?

So I'm drowning, I'm breaking, my remake is shattered in pieces around me, and I'm beginning to give up on dreams that I don't see happening - even though I want them more than anything else on Earth.

And then I got to Priesthood. It was combined, unexpectedly, I guess the Elder's Quorum Teacher didn't show, and it was on hope. Which we had in Elder's Quorum about 4 or 5 weeks ago. But I guess I still need it. Hope. I hate hope. Just like I hate faith. Because they are part of the chains that bind me to truth, and peace, and love, and this damn church.

Proverbs 13:12 "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life."

How? How can I continue to hold on to that which drains the life from me and is filled with two-faced lying, hurtful people?

Albert Camus said, "In the depth of winter, [we find] within [us] an invincible summer." But I don't. I don't have that. I just have a flickering flame that's dying, that I sometimes wonder if I myself have blown out.

President Uchtdorf counseled in the last General Conference that "there may be times when we must make a courageous decision to hope even when everything around us contradicts this hope. Like Father Abraham, we will “against hope [believe] in hope."

That's all I have left.

I pray fervently that Conference will not destroy me further. But it may be the final decider where my feet next take me. And that, is soooo scary.

Prayers for Myself

It happened. I can't believe it finally happened. I've been trying since I got here for my parents to sit down and watch Prayers for Bobby with me. I think it partially due to the fact that OTR is here it actually happened, otherwise they would have found more excuses or reasons not to. My dad was supposed to be doing Board of Reviews for a bunch of Scouts tonight, but he got a sub so that he could be here for this. Thanks Dad!

Before I go into tonight, I want to take a second to talk about the First time I saw Prayers for Bobby. I borrowed my Grandfather's car to drive down to Salt Lake where I met D, Scott, Sarah, and their kids. We stopped at McDonald's on the way up, and poor Sarah spilled water :( But it only made me love her more. The frantic scramble and dashing about reminded me of my own parents, and of course - being the 2nd of 7 - and loving kids, I settled right in with Lil' S to play on his Leapster. He was so super cute. It started snowing pretty hard on the way up the canyon and we got a little nervous, but Scott was an amazing driver and got us there in one piece. When we turned on our tv at the cabin we found out that our rush hadn't done us any good because it had already started! Oh no! I was devastated. But luckily, it was going to play again right after. So we played with the kids for an hour and then settled in.

Prayers for Bobby was indescribable in its impact and profundity. As mentioned last time, I cried so hard my stomach hurt. The movie was perfect in every way, and I related with Bobby as I have not to anyone since reading My Name is Asher Lev. Gut-wrenching, heart-rending complete relation. His pain was my pain. Even tissues weren't enough.

I've expressed this before, but I'm going to do it once more: Thank you Scott and Sarah so much for that night. You may never understand just how much it meant to me. Then when we went back of course the snow got worse, and I "tragically" had to stay an extra day and play with their kids. I also got invited to family dinner, which proved to be awkward and a bit discriminatory, and prompted Scott to send a letter. Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend and will be eternally grateful to both Scott and Sarah for their love and assistance.

Now then. Scott gave me a copy of the movie right before I came here, and tonight we finally sat down to watch it. Tonight was the night because the kids are all gone at Scouts, Mutual, or work. But we didn't have a full 95 minutes, which is how the long the movie was. So we wanted to have it set up beforehand. The dvd player wouldn't read, but the disc worked great on my laptop. So then my lil bro set up the playstation and it loaded the play screen. We thought everything was great, but when my dad finally got home, and the kids were off, the disc would say read error anytime we clicked play. Agh. 

So we ended up watching it on my laptop. 4 people huddled around, lol. But it turned out okay. I bawled as much as last time, and OTR was right there with me - she actually cried even harder, if that's believable. 

My mom HATES HATES HATES sad movies, and I had warned her beforehand, so I'm so grateful to her for sacrificing and watching it with us. She didn't cry (that I saw) like OTR and I sobbed, but it still had some impact. When it was over she said, "You were right. That was a really sad movie." That was about all she said, then withdrew. But I didn't expect anything more from my mom. She takes a while to process and open up. I'm hoping for more conversation in the near future with her. Oh! I almost forgot. I knew she was enjoying it to some extent (my mind had only pictures of them being scathed and offended by the club scenes or the kisses) because with 20 minutes left we had to pause the movie because the kids were done at the church. There was a brief chat of who would go and who would stay, and my mom voted my dad since OTR didn't know how to get to the church. Then as soon as he got up, she said, "Okay, continue. Don't leave me hanging." 

When my dad got back with the kids, things progressed as normal until they were all in bed, then he came to my room to watch the last twenty minutes. When it was over, he said, "Powerful message." Then he just kind of sat there in silence, and I could tell he was thinking, so I bit. 

Me: "Penny for your thoughts? Here, I'll even give you a quarter." He didn't take it, but he did smile then said he didn't really have any coherent thoughts just then, but that he did take away this: 

"Sexual orientation doesn't determine a person's worth, they're still a person."

Then he went on to explain it was like Mary had said about people born with no arms who get ridiculed or discriminated against. He even mentioned curly vs straight-hair people. They didn't choose that, that's just them. I almost burst smiling, because this level of acceptance was never anything I'd heard him say before. But I had to know more, so I asked: "But are all they ALL things you can accept outright?"

He didn't say yes right off, but dodged a bit. He said, "You can accept, like understand and love, but that doesn't mean you embrace." Because apparently embracing me is too much to ask...my burst of smile was quickly snuffed out. However, I refuse to give up. I still hope deeply for the day when my parents can be like Mary and be proud of my difference. 

He continued, "Accept is like being indifferent about it." He thought a second, then amended, "But at least it's not rejection."

Me: "But I think indifference is worse." (ie, more painful, hurtful, etc.)

Dad: "Yeah, I can see that. It doesn’t give you anything to fight for or against. It just is." It really doesn't. To me it's almost as effective as being ignored. I'd rather you outright reject me than keep around and just be 'meh' about it. I think that the line that still has the greatest impact on me is when Bobby's sister tells him she won't ever change and that he won't ever be welcome at Christmas or Thanksgiving with a boyfriend. That's still how I feel with my family, though I give them credit for not trying to bury me in religious healing. 

Dad: "I don't know though that I can agree with what Mary tried to say about knowing from the beginning. I didn't." My inital thought was that he just didn't want to and that's why he says that. I also called him out by saying, "So when I came out to you, it took you completely by surprise?" 

He relented that no, he knew then, but if we went back to when I was a kid he wouldn't have guessed, or expected it. Which is funny to me, because my brothers totally saw it way back then. And I definitely wasn't ever interested in sports or anything uber-macho like that. 

Me: "I knew when I was 11. It’s in my journal. I wrote about it. But I sure as hell wasn’t telling any of you, because I felt just like Bobby. You’d hate me, reject me, kick me out, call me Evil. So I buried it. Deep as it would go. Ran and ran and told myself it wasn’t true. Me? I’m not gay. Until on my mission it came back full force to slap me in the face. And then when I got home and moving on to the next 'phase of happy mormon life' wasn’t working... I decided to be honest. Completely. Get out the box and bring it forward and accept myself and that's what I did." It was neat to be able to color in just a few more of the black spaces in my life for my dad so he had a more complete picture of me. He knew about my experiences on the mission, and after, from our summer together in '06, but didn't know anything before that.

His last comment was: “Good story.”

Me: “Yes. And a true one.”

Dad: “One that’s happened probably hundreds or thousands of times.”

Me: “Almost hundreds and thousands plus one.” That kinda hit him, and he looked at me somewhat surprised.

Dad: “Well, I hope you stay with us.” I shook my head. 

Me: “There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” (Just a lot more work to be done between us).

Dad: “Good. You still have a lot of stories to write.”

Then he left. I wasn't impressed; mom and dad didn't hug me and say sorry at all, but honestly, I don't feel letdown either. I feel like after it was over we didn't really dig into the issue like I'd wished, but part of that was because I was comforting OTR. By the end of the movie she was inconsolable, and seriously cried at least a half hour after it was over. She just didn't think that it was fair so many people had to hurt so badly, and we make it worse for them by our hate and discrimination. We had a good chat about that and how it's not fair for her to say that her pain has been any more or less than ours; she's been through her share of hell too. She's taking time now to question her faith in hopes of finding the deeper faith that Reverend Whitsell spoke of. 

My response to her, my father, and Mary is this: 

I will not give up on love. I think every time before I say Amen, and definitely always listen. My dreams won’t die. I’ll carry them on for Bobby and anyone else who didn’t get the chance.

Most of all though, like people who feel the utter need to bear their testimonys for fear of being ungrateful to God, I must cry out from every fiber of my being: Thank you Mary Griffith. Thank you Bobby.

Continuance

I have alot to say... I just don't want to. 

I'm debating, toying, mulling on what to do with this blog. Should I make it public? Delete it? Continue on with the two active readers I've still got? Sigh.

I got hit by a car, and I'm sick of talking about it, so if you don't know, that's all you're gonna get. Sorry.

So now I'm back in Florida, at my parents. Reliving the summer of 06. Except this time I can't walk, so in some ways it's worse. I don't know. My parents took steps back then to accept and understand, but often, it still seems like nothing is different. 

One of the first nights I was here, I asked my dad if one of my uncles knew about me. When he got what I was talking about, he was like, "Oh, you mean your leaning." 

Excuse me? My Leaning? My inclination? The way that I have decided to move myself? I was so incredibly insulted by his comment. I couldn't believe after all that we've done that he would still say something like that. 

Since coming here Feb 13th, I've tried to get my parents to watch Prayers for Bobby with me, but with no luck. They just avoid. Put it off. Make an excuse. When I saw it with Scott, Sarah and D it was INCREDIBLE. I cried so hard that my stomach hurt after. Prayers for Bobby is just BEAUTIFUL. And I want my parents to see it. I want them to understand more. To understand better. To reopen the discussions that I die to have, and they avoid. 

And yet, as mad as I get at my dad... he does great stuff too. He built me a desk. He pulled me around the neighborhood in the little red wagon. He totally bought me an 8-pack of "contraband" soda pop I've been craving that my mom would never ever buy. 

The good and the hurtful mix together and I no longer know how to look at him. Do I give him credit? Do I hate him for being so hurtful? Do I just write him off as imperfect? But in which direction? 

It's just confusing, tiring, and still, even after all this time...painful.

Resonance

I... I can't stop watching.

I've watched this 25 times now. I just hit replay over and over and over. I haven't seen it yet and I've already cried. I want to see this more than anything else I've ever wanted to see. 

I just... 

"Accept me as I am or forget it."

"I won't have a gay son." 

"Then mom, you don't have a son."

"Fine."

...this is my story. 

And I want more than anything to see it. Is anyone in Utah DVRing this? Want to kidnap me for the weekend so I can watch it with you and cry?

BEING ME IS SO HARD.

Reflecting Pool

I'm at the airport. On my way home. 

My trip this year has to be voted better than years previous. 

I can confess that I had fun. I enjoyed myself. I didn't look at porn once (which I am particularly proud of, since all previous trips have included nightly self-destructive behaviors). I didn't keep my room very clean (which I'm NOT very proud of). I didn't think of committing suicide even once.

I got a tan.  :)

There were bumps and rough times, but overall it ended up being a decent stint. 

Knowing the uncertainty that I'm returning to, I actually spit last night that I'd rather stay in Florida with my family than go home. Which is... unthinkable. But true.

Half of me even wants to move home (but not live AT home)...

When I was on my way here, I professed the desire/need for something, anything to be different.

I'm chalking it up to the fact that I got out of the house this time. It was not all sitting, all waiting, all video games, all StarCraft (though we did that, but moderately, which I'm fine with). I played frisbee. I went geocaching. I went skateboarding. I went to the beach. I went to rock climbing. I played Sardines.

And now... back to uncertainty. Can I get a new job? Can I keep living where I am? If I can't, where do I go? What do I try next? Where should I apply? Everyone wants me. Everywhere. 

I have more to say. But I'm not ready yet.