In which I bear out most of my shit

(There isn't going to be a "light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel" moment in this post. Skip if you're looking for something uplifting. Also, adult language. Hope you can deal with it, because today, I really just don't care)

Today, for the first time in months or possibly years, I sobbed.

As I mentioned before, it apparently isn't just my struggle with pornography that has led me to doubt and wonder if the Church was true. I've been clean about three months of pornography, which is likely the longest I've ever been since I started looking at it at age 17. There's still work to be done, but from a strict obedience standpoint, I'm doing better than I have in years.

And yet...

For the last few months, I've been unhappy. I haven't been sad per se, but I have been unmotivated, lazy, obstinate, depressed, willful and unpleasant. I attend parties and get-togethers, put on a happy face and make jokes, laugh till I cry, make lunch plans with old friends, the works. I go to church and hear the speakers express uplifting words, I see the good examples of those who serve faithfully in their callings, I even participate insightfully in Institute and Sunday school. But underneath it all is a cold, black core of a man who has become bitterly jaded and unhappy with his life.

I saw all these areas of improvement, ranging from reading my scriptures more to eating less red meat to working out better. I tried to get stronger and build myself into a man. I bought a bicycle, thinking going carbon neutral would help. I brushed my teeth better, polishing those pearly whites to a sheen they haven't seen in years. Hell, when I was in the shower once, I looked down and thought, "If that were bigger, I'd be happier."

But the plain and simple fact of the matter is that since about the time pornography stopped being a scapegoat, I have felt alone and forsaken. There have been brief moments where I see empathy and love in the world all around me, but for the most part, I am lonely. I crave the presence of the Spirit but I feel it retracted from me. I pray for little miracles to help me see that I'm not alone in this world and they seem to go unheeded. I feel like I'm talking to the wall whenever I pray and I think that no one is listening. It's been a deeply frustrating three months, three months that I thought would see the Spirit and blessings of the Lord pouring out on me as a reward for giving up pornography but instead have been filled with spite, jealousy and bitterness on my part. I even tried to punch a hole in the wall underneath one of my posters, but apparently I'm so weak that I couldn't break anything but the skin on my fist.

For the first time since these feelings started coming, I talked them over with someone today. Last night, as I struggled to fall asleep amid the anger and bitterness I felt towards my Heavenly Father, I texted my brother, who is faithfully trying to live the teachings of the Gospel, asking if we could talk. He returned my call this morning and we spoke for awhile. As the tears started to flow from both of us, we tried to figure out why this life is so hard, why God has chosen us to live these lives with thrilling highs followed mere minutes later with painful lows. I told him how I felt like God had forgotten me and to my surprise, he agreed. He said that God had indeed retracted from my life because for whatever reason, I need to do this alone. I need to be tested and tried and I need to do it without His help. He said he felt the same thing often and while he may not understand completely the breadth and scope of what I'm dealing with, I can see that he understands the underlying emotions.

And then the praises came. He told me how strong I was, how godlike I was and what a good person I had always been. He told me how much he loves and prays for me and how much he looks up to me. And again, I felt nothing. I saw none of myself in those words. I never do. Whenever people praise me for being so wonderful and brave and faithful, all I can think is that they are just saying that to be nice. I feel none of that, no bravery. All I see is this scared little bitch cowering under his covers, wishing that he were braver. He told me I was my own worst critic and I gave myself too little credit, but his words, and the words of my bishop and parents and friends who have said the same thing, have always sounded a little syrupy, if well-meaning. They still do. But whatever. He loves me and I appreciate the efforts he made.

We hung up the phone and I went to take a shower before being overcome with a poignant sense of, "Who gives a shit? What person in this universe gives one single fuck about me and what I do with my life?" I couldn't even look myself in the mirror, I was so ashamed. I turned on the water so no one would hear me and crumpled to the ground and sobbed. Sobbed with every muscle in my body, sobbed like it was going out of style, sobbed until my ears ached and my stomach was sore and my forearms were bleeding from the prints of my fingernails. I prayed for some time, just hoping that I'd feel some kind of presence from above. I offered gratitude for a brother who cared enough to cry with me on the phone for an hour, for friends in real life and friends I'd met through this blog and friends I knew were praying for me. And then I was done. I was done crying. I had offered my last ounce of energy and I had nothing left. I lay on the rug for a few more minutes, got up, got in the hot water, and was done.

I don't know what's going to come next. I still feel crushingly alone, in spite of all the people around me and in my life. I know there are those of you who send me encouraging texts and e-mails, who call for no reason just to chat, who pray for me and love me and who hope that I find the thing that will leave me with lasting joy.

But I have to admit, I don't know where to find that joy. I feel like every avenue for happiness is closed off to me, that my life is just one huge long detour from stopping point to stopping point with no clear destination in sight. I feel very little joy in the journey and I see very little light.  God is not in my life today and His presence is missed. Nothing feels right, no decision seems like the correct one. It's all just darkness. And probably some dragons. I'm sure I'll be okay, but I just have no idea how or when. Kinda ready for it to be my turn though.

Builders and Breakers- Northern Lights

My most recent post at Northern Lights. Are you a builder or a breaker?

Some pretty amusing junk over at Northern Lights!

¡Buenos dias, blogosphere!

I was perusing my new internet home away from home and found something pretty amusing.

"He Might Be a Moho If..." is one of the most hilarious, true to life examples of the genre, at least for me. It had me in stitches the whole time I was reading. Let's evaluate, shall we? [Sidebar: I really, really hate the term "moho." It sounds so lame to me. Non-mohos, it means MOrmon HOmosexual.]

Number 8: When he refers to the type of “person” he’s attracted to, pay attention to whether he EVER indicates a gender. Just a thought. 
Back at home, we have this word we use to describe those who haven't made out in 6 months or more. Until I was 22, I had never made out, but when I did the deed with Toby, the next time the conversation came up with my friends at home, they found out that I'd made out. Naturally, they asked for a description of, ostensibly, the girl, so I was forced to describe this dude I smooched using gender-neutral pronouns and adjectives: "beard-burn" was obviously out.

Number 16:  Watch his eyes during a kissing or love scene–does he even notice there’s a woman there?
Both Easy A and Crazy Stupid Love were tossups between Emma Stone and Penn Badgley and Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling for me. I love Emma Stone, but damned if Penn and RyGos didn't make the teapot whistle...

Number 17: When introduced to groups of people, he connects with the best-looking guy first. Or the exact opposite for those a bit more adept at avoidance or repression–they connect with the homeliest girl.
Guilty. Constantly scanning for the best prospects, I am.

Number 18: When caught checking out a guy, he immediately scans the room like he was just scanning all along. …or he looks the girl next to the guy up and down like he was just sizing up his competition. …no, I haven’t done that.
Indeed. I've even done the fake "sizing up your competition" thing.

Number 24:  He makes friends with the best-looking elders in his quorum at Elders Quorum BBQs, all while artfully dodging questions about why he doesn’t date.
I'm somewhat convinced that if my best friends in the ward suddenly became not-hot, I'd stop liking them a little bit. Sorry guys.

Number 28: While walking through the mall, he shoots a casual glance in the Victoria’s Secret window, looking away quickly to show his remarkable self discipline like a good LDS guy should, but he lingers at American Eagle or A & F.
I purposely linger in front of the lingerie stores when I'm with guys so they think that's how I like it.

And finally, the best one...
Number 29: When confronted with the underwear section at Target (or other applicable store), one of two things occurs: He either avoids it like the plague, or he spends an inordinate amount of time ‘browsing.’ Option two is especially true if he wears garments.
I have a love/hate relationship with the underwear aisle at Target. The men on those packages are like the beta test for the male form, plus the models gotta be able to shape the underwear masculinely, if you know what I mean... I want to avoid it, but as I am not endowed yet, I have to go there at least once or twice a year. It's the chore I hate to love.

There's a treasure trove of amusement on those old posts.  It's pretty great.

The relaunch of Northern Lights has been pretty cool, but if I pointed out a fault, it'd be that it's got a very serious tone so far. That's to be expected, because each of us who is blogging is obviously facing a scary facet of a very complicated life situation. But still, I'm hoping that humor will infiltrate the blog  again soon.

Treating the symptoms while ignoring the causes

My brother is a doctor of osteopathy. It's a unique school of thought within the medical field that emphasizes healing the body's core problems, rather than merely treating the symptoms. He's a full-fledged doctor who works at a legitimate hospital and can write prescriptions and perform surgeries and do anything a medical doctor can, but he was educated to not merely prescribe painkillers to someone with a sore throat. Instead, he finds the root cause of the pain and treats that to solve the problem from the inside out.

My struggle with pornography addiction has been similar.

For years, I have had doubts about the LDS church. I have always wondered why this and why that. I have heard the vile rumors about Joseph Smith's personal life and speculated more perverse motivations behind plural marriage as the early Utahans practiced it. I have pondered about the nature and origin of the Book of Mormon and questioned its validity as a book of scripture.

However, these questions always coincided with my struggles with pornography. I'd relapse and binge, then feel terrible, then doubt the truthfulness of the gospel. I always assumed that because I'd chased the Spirit away with my porn consumption and made way for the Adversary to enter my thoughts. It became easy to quiet those doubts by reassuring myself that it was my disobedience that fed them.

However, after abstaining from porn for longer than I have in years, I've found that the opposite may be true. My consumption of porn may have been a manifestation of my doubts, rather than the other way around. Those doubts may have always been there and merely covered up by a scapegoat of pornography, when in reality, I only watched porn to distract myself from the core problems.  As I abstained from pornography, I treated a symptom of the doubt while ignoring the root cause of it all.

I assumed that after I'd had some time apart from pornography, things would seem brighter and better. For some time, they did. I felt more confident and stronger in my day-to-day life; nothing could touch me. But as time passed and the "new" wore off, I found those same doubts wriggling their way into my head. They consumed me. "What if I'm totally wrong? What if God doesn't care who I marry or what church I go to or how I live, so long as I'm nice and kind and helpful?" I laid awake at night, wondering about the possibilities.

This all came to a head today. I was so sick of these questions bouncing around in my head and I snapped. I woke up for work early, but called in sick. I spent the rest of the day aimlessly walking around the house, checking the fridge every few minutes, washing a dish or two, flipping channels. I browsed the Internet listlessly, wasting my time in front of Craigslist or YouTube or Facebook. I planned on doing some work on the house and yard, but when the time came, I stayed on the couch instead. I had zero motivation to do anything; my brain was broken. I was overcritical of myself and my family, sarcastic and unkind to the one individual I saw when gassing up this morning and completely out of touch with my emotions and reality.

I was (and still am) amazed that removing pornography from my life didn't cure my doubts. But after a holistic blessing from that same osteopath I mentioned before, I see what I need to do to fix them. I have some motivation to do what needs to be done and to literally get my house in order before I can get the answers I need. I'm still shooting for a mission and all the blessings of faithful church membership, but I recognize that I'm on shaky ground, standing on a thin crust of earth ready to give way at any moment.

I do not regret removing pornography from my life and I encourage everyone affected by it to do the same. But it's interesting and surprising what you'll find after you've removed that scapegoat.

As usual, if you want to talk, feel free to e-mail me. But I'm also asking that you please pray for me tonight and tomorrow. I need motivation to work and I need a clear head to get those answers I seek.  Thanks.

Improving my prayers

I have noticed something disturbing about myself.

I have a temporary job doing road work for a fracking company. That's right. I'm facilitating the use of machines that burn fossil fuels inefficiently for a company that fractures bedrock to get to natural gas, tainting groundwater and releasing methane into the atmosphere in the process. Mother Earth is my bitch, apparently.

Anyway, this work is really backbreaking and difficult. My first day, it was over 100 degrees and I got a bad case of heat exhaustion and just about barfed in the truck. Since then, the weather's been a lot nicer, but it's still been achy, tiring work. I find myself praying every morning, in the car on the way to work and at every lunch and water break for strength to be able to do what I need to. This is FAR more prayer than I usually do, and the majority of it is about what I need and want.

It's been reminding me a lot of the pride cycle from the Book of Mormon. The Nephites are prosperous and forget their God. They're travailing and all of a sudden, they're loyal disciples. I'm afraid I'm the same way.

I've been striving to overcome that by devoting one of my longer prayers each day to either only things I'm grateful for or prayers for blessings on others. I think it helps me step outside myself and try to be a little more humble.

Still, the problem I see is that I'm so eager to turn to the Lord when things are kind of rough, but not when they're good. I feel like if I prayed more when things are good, it'd be a more balanced relationship between Him and me.  We've all had those friends that are always there when they need help or a shoulder to cry on, but disappear when they're happy. We only see one side of them and it's not a particularly pleasant side. I feel like my relationship with the Lord might be that way.  I know it's better than not praying when things are hard, but it's still kind of a strange dynamic.

Goalsetting time. Those of you who know me, when I vacate this job in a few weeks, you get to keep me accountable for how I spend my prayin' time as a happy, content kid, because I'm going to start expressing gratitude for that contentment and telling the Lord about how carefree my day was, just so He can see that other, non-needy side of me.

Post over on Northern Lights!

Here's my first post over on Northern Lights! It went live this morning while I was driving across the badlands of one of the flyover states, so I'm a little late linking it. Some of the comments get passionate, guess the readership over there isn't used to my sarcasm. Oops.

Anyway, enjoy!

http://northstarlds.org/blog/2012/08/the-real-problem/

Something tells me...

...I'm into something good.

North Star, which is an organization designed to give support to gay Mormons striving to live within the standards of the LDS church, is relaunching its blog this Sunday. The blog, Northern Lights, which last saw its most vibrant activity in 2010, will feature regular updates from such individuals as Ty Mansfield, Bravone and Josh Weed, as well as (Gay) Mormon Guy and a handful of other talented Latter-Day Saint bloggers and commentators who have experience in the world of homosexuality.

I was incredibly terrified, then incredibly humbled when the editors of the blog asked me to be a part of it, especially given the talent and faith of the bloggers already on board, and I'm only a little ashamed to say that it seriously stroked my ego. I am looking forward to getting to know these ladies and gentlemen better through their blog posts and I invite, nay, impeach y'all to do the same thing.

I'm looking forward to it, but I'm also somewhat terrified at the prospect of posting fresh, interesting content both here on my blog and through Northern Lights, so I'll be posting more personal stuff here and linking to my broader, less sensitive posts on North Star. That said, if any of y'all have some great information or are made aware of something interesting going on in the world of the Mormon homosexual, my inbox is always open to tips, because I'm seriously doubting my ability to write that much. Guess I should get used to it, since it's what I want to do with my life.

And as usual, if you wanna chat about anything, hit me up!  God loves ya and so do I.

Outed, the July 2012 edition

Yesterday was a big day for gay pride. Maybe not gay pride in general, but GMP's gay pride.

I woke up with a notion that I'd tell my oldest sibling that I was gay. I'd been worried about telling him, because I know he holds some pretty revolutionary thoughts about homosexuality. He's a very open-minded person and I was worried that his acceptance of who I was would lead to him encouraging me to express that homosexual side of myself and lay aside my religious convictions.

But when I told him, he was understanding and respectful of my decision to stay in the church and seek a life of obedience through either celibacy or a mixed-orientation marriage. He expressed skepticism that I could lead a happy or fulfilling life through either option, but he is a very sexually-motivated person, so it makes sense that he might think that way.

We had a discussion about the choices I was making versus the choices he made when he decided to leave the LDS church. Like I said, he has some pretty revolutionary ideas and at length, he came to the conclusion that most members of the LDS church were living in self-deception and that the tenets of the church perpetuated that idea. I have to admit, it was hard to hear him talk that way because he's my brother and I love him and because he was actually making a lot of sense. All I could do was express that I felt like the Spirit was a strong enough witness to override some of my doubts and misgivings and that all I could do was act on what I knew in the moment, which meant doing what I thought would bring me the most happiness.

He's a very loving, sweet individual. He's selfish and willful, but he is such an understanding, nonjudgmental person. I have a lot to learn about him in that respect.

The other thing that was weird is that yesterday, I was working on a school project with a friend from class, a girl that I never really talked to outside of school. A work-wife, if you will. Somehow, we got talking about feminism and gender equality, then transitioned to her conversion and the problems she had to overcome about the role of feminism in the LDS church and the church's treatment of the fringe: liberals, feminists, activists and homosexuals. Somehow, and I genuinely have no idea how or why I did this, I said, "I know what you mean. I'm gay and I've always found it hard to find a way to get over Mormon culture's intolerance."

Uh... what?

Her eyes widened, then lit up. She grabbed my hand and wrapped me in a surprising hug. "I am so happy you told me!" she said, adding that it's important for each of us to know that we're all children of God, regardless of our challenges or beliefs in this life.

Weird, weird day. A friend says it's a sign that I should come out publicly. I say it's a sign that I need to get more sleep so I have more control over my brain-mouth filter. I don't regret coming out to my brother, nor do I regret it with this girl (much, anyway), but it was certainly surprising to hear myself being so cavalier about all of it.

[Written while listening to Midnight Sun, by The Sounds. Highly recommended]

Homeboy's a bit lonely tonight

First, let me justify that title.

A friend of mine showed me the most redankalous YouTube video a few days ago. Like, so awesome that I'm jealous I wasn't a part of it.  If you have a spare five minutes, enjoy it.

Off. The. Chain. It's had me talking street since I saw it. I had to look up like half the words on Urban Dictionary but I love it so much. So that's why I just called myself homeboy. Now you know.

Anyway, homeboy's feeling a little lonesome tonight. Not like that's news to anyone, it seems like every other post is a sad post on my part.  Blogging tends to bring that out in me. I promise I'm not like this in real life. Mostly.

Last night, we were watching The Return of the King and everyone we were watching with was commentating the whole. damn. movie. Which is seriously my biggest issue with watching movies with friends. I'm like, sit down, shut up and enjoy the movie. And pass the popcorn.

Alright, so we're watching this awesome movie and people are talking over it and every time Frodo comes on the screen, everyone jeers and mocks. To be fair, Elijah Wood played Frodo very weak; he was kind of an anti-hero who was constitutionally incapable of being strong.  

But I kind of identify with that a lot. Frodo didn't volunteer to carry the ring to Mount Doom, but when he was chosen, he took up the responsibility.  He knew his duty and did his best to accomplish what he needed to. But at the end of the day, he was a meek Hobbit, ill-equipped by nature of his birth to fight orcs and lunatics. (Besides, I'd bet even the mighty Aragorn would have a hard time hiking through Mordor five minutes after being stung by a huge spider.)

So as if the senseless mocking of one of the great characters in fiction wasn't enough, then the gay jokes started coming.  Sam's tireless devotion to Frodo, Frodo waking up after the adventure to the smiling faces of his three friends in bed with him, Gandalf the Gay Grey watching over the whole lot with quiet satisfaction. I dunno, I love this awesome group of people I call my friends, but there are definitely a few sheltered Mormon kids who grew up in small, conservative areas and don't really understand the art of tact when it comes to sensitive issues like homosexuality. Or race. Or science. It made me want to stand up, yell "I'M GAY, YOU DOUCHEBAGS!" and run from the room, just to prove some point.

Thankfully, I didn't do that. But I did stew about it all night. I dreamt about it and woke up so mad at the world (and my roommates) this morning. And thankfully, that too passed at the first of many selfless things they did for me today. They're good people and I don't really censure them too much for their points of view.

But still, it just brings me back to that year-old consideration of mine: should I come out? Would it be a good idea to show the world and the church that "normal" guys like me can be gay without being flaming? Or would that just subject me to the ridicule that usually gets reserved for Samwise and Frodo?

It's all good, it really is. The people who know are supportive and fantastic and I love them for it. Really, they're all the support a guy needs. I just wonder sometimes. 

Growing up

I found this image on Facebook today.

It stopped me in my tracks. I love Calvin and Hobbes. When I'm at home, before bed I read a chapter of a novel and a week's worth of Calvin's adventures with his tiger. I always have and I always will, and when the time comes, I am going to relish introducing my kids to Hobbes' quiet wisdom and Calvin's reckless imaginative zest for life.

The image made me think about where I'm at right now. I thought about those childish things I put away and will never get out again if I can help it, like my immature attitude towards repentance and shame. I also thought about the childish things I put away but really miss about myself, like my old notebooks that are filled with rudimentary 2-D drawings of cars and airplanes and the imaginative games I played with my Hot Wheels and car mat. And I thought about those childish things I want to pass onto the next generation, like my love of literature and poetry and my childlike trust that most people are good. In fact, I should probably dust that last one off and exercise it more.

I dunno. I'm rambling. I wish I knew where I was going with this.

I guess the crux of it all is how content I am with the course I'm taking right now. I'm not happy with life, but I am content. I can see how the path I'm on is going to lead to greater things. I'm still far from perfect and every day brings new mistakes, but I'm even content with those. I dunno. Looking forward to see what the future's gonna bring, and hoping I grow out of the crappy stuff and into the good stuff soon.