Hanging by a Thread

(Full disclosure: there isn't going to be a moral or a spiritual thought or an epiphany at the end.  I'm fed up with all of that for the night, so I'm not going to do it.)

I am fully active in my ward.  I often get compliments based on the insightfulness of my lessons and comments in Sunday School and institute and I still get referenced in people's talks because of the aurora story I shared a few months ago in testimony meeting.  I told the story of my conversion at FHE the other night and my kind and loving bishop came up after and thanked me for my insights and contributions to the ward.  If all you saw of  me was on Sunday morning and Monday and Thursday night, you'd be convinced that I'm built on the rock and that I never wavered in my faith.

But there are nights, like tonight, when I should be at Institute but I can't bring myself to go.  There are whole days when I hover right on the brink of breakdown from alarm clock to bedtime.  I wonder what reward could possibly be worth all of this trouble and aggravation, and then I think about how much my life would still suck if I gave up and gave in now, what with all the family issues and alienation from my friends it would cause, to say nothing of the potential eternal ramifications such a decision would have.

The ward is no longer a happy place.  Sundays make me sick to my stomach for all the gossip about who's dating who and who just got married and who's having a baby in a few months, feeling like most of those outcomes are long shots for me. Seeing all those pretty girls who doll themselves up to attract a man, and feeling powerless to make anything happen there. Being the perennial wingman to the ward player, the eternal bromance guy to the lonely single kid, the inveterate "safe haven" for both guys and girls to unload on.  It gets tiresome and I'm sick of it.

To hell with it all.  I'm sick of being gay.  I'm over being different.  I'm tired of not being on a mission because I can't get my mind around the fact that I could be obedient while living with at least one probably handsome man for 24 long months.  I'm done being scared of getting outed again. I am so tired of constantly battling the temptation to look at porn again, to flirt with other guys, to do the things that I'd do if God weren't looking.  I'm disgusted with myself for thinking that I'd disobey if God weren't looking.  I'm revolted at the thoughts I have to chase from my mind. I'm tired of constantly reliving my mistakes and wishing I could travel through time.  I'm tired of reading my scriptures with a question in mind and then feeling abandoned when I close the book.  I'm exhausted every night, but can't fall asleep because I can't stop thinking about how much I hate my life sometimes.  I pray for the Spirit, then bitch because I feel like living a spirit-worthy life is too difficult.

I know there's more I could do.  I'm conscious of my blessings and I know that things could be worse.  I'm fully aware that my lack of faith is what is causing all of this insanity right now. I'm sure that if I were stronger and exhibited more self control, I wouldn't have so many issues and wrestling matches with obedience and faith.  But, I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam, and right now, I feel like I'm tied up and the noose is around my neck and I'm waiting for either the last-minute pardon or for the floor to fall out from under my feet.