Reclaiming Complex and Nuance

This post is about my anger, frustration, pain, anxiety, fear and all that baggage that is associated with my inability to know what to say about my dear sweet friend who attempted suicide yesterday. 

But before I get into my shit, I want to direct you to Mr. Doodle's:
Top 10 Reasons Why I Left the Church
Top 10 Reasons Why I Came Back to the Church

Feel free to leave Mr. Doodle a comment or write your own blog post about your top ten reasons you left.   If you haven't left the church then write a top 10 reasons why you stay or came back.  But by all means, avoid calling people to repentance if they don't agree with you.  It's not going to convince anyone.  Mr. Doodle has every right to do as he please for whatever reasons he has.   As do I and as do you.  But just know, if you say I should do things a certain way, convince me first how your life's path can possibly have anything to do with the reality of mine when it comes to your own self-awareness of what I perceive.   In other words, if you can get inside my head, you would know what to say to convince me. 
  
I don't have a top ten reason why I left myself.  It's more like a top three.
#3 Co-dependency runs rampant and is self-sustaining.
#2 A dogmatic culture of "one life fits all" philosophy.
#1 It's a twisted, abusive, homophobic, fallacy, of conditional love which imposes unnecessary complexity and nuance into the social lives of vulnerable people where there otherwise would be a naturally simple existence. (see #2 & #3)  

Yes, I'll say it; my life is still being complicated by the baggage that comes with deeply imposed, completely unnecessary, fallacies of religious belief, which create a complex and nuanced social climate that only an omnipotent god could navigate, a complexity and nuance that must be danced around and walked on like a fucking, god damn, eggshell so as not to frighten the overly sensitive egos of the superstitious, busy bodies.   If you are offended by that classification, ponder it for yourself why that is the case.  You may have a blog post you could write for your own blog. (Post a link to it in the comments if you like.)

I used to love the word 'nuance'.   As a music composer it was the nuance of the performance and harmonic selections that separated a good piece of music from a great one.   I used to love the word 'complex' because, as a composer, I could stun my rhythmic sensibilities with layers of poly metered rhythms that was both invigorating and meditative.

But I've learned to distrust these words.   I've seen them used against me.  Thrown back at me as yet another means by which I am to compromise my feelings, sensibilities, life experiences and just plain life, so that fearful superstitions will not be challenged in their inability to look at anything other than the shadows on the fucking wall.   

Navigating these waters, wading through the mud, balancing on a pin head, opening a fucking window, is now this delicate and unattainable "complex and nuanced" perfection that must be played in just the right way or they revoke their love, shut off all dialog, close down all ability to communicate and then they take their ball and go home, a ball that was gifted to them by the one seeking an understanding dialog in the first place.  All the while, as they leave, they are screeching the need for empathy and understanding.   

Empathy?  Yes, amongst the complex and nuanced wash of social engineering is the word empathy, a concept that is imbued, in this case, with conditions that only go one way because only one side of that dialog understands and practices it.   The other side can only pay lip-service to it.  

I sit and watch with full understanding, yes, even empathy, all of the struggles and fears that have embodied those who can only pay lip-service.  And I can understand why they can only pay lip-service, but I can't say a single thing about it.  I can't tell them what my path of life has been, I can't talk about my experiences, fears, struggles, joys, loves.  I can't even begin to express how our experiences are wrong for each other.   All I can do is just listen and let them tell me I'm a perverse and evil miscreant because I cannot believe and live as they do.  I understand why they believe and say that  but I can't say anything about my reality.  They won't listen.  They can't listen. They can't understand.    They are like little babies who only know the world as it exists inside of their heads.   I understand why they can't understand even if the words fail me in explaining it.  But I can only sit there for so long before I have been drained of my will to live.  I resent having to babysit these adults. I've got a life to live; I can't waste it away trying to open a dialog with unreason.  And yet I keep trying.  It's leading to insanity.

I have, for the most part, learned to no longer believe that I am a perverse and evil miscreant, but only when I'm rational.  But the strange nuanced and complex world of the human psyche can still be triggered into readopting those old beliefs, and often in subtle and gradual ways.  Before long, the mind has switched into a new consciousness, into another space, another reality where I only know, understand, and experience these irrational beliefs and nothing else.  If the head-space is irrational,  I can't think my way out of it.   I become the baby who must be babysat.  And now I'm the social burden that only a nuanced and complex pandering of my fragile ego can pull me out of.   And if I'm lucky, I'll get the empathy I need before I've convinced myself that I must die.  This is fucked up!

Nuanced social navigation is an unnecessarily activity when religious dogma is not imposed on a person's identity, thus warping the very reality that is our existence.  Life is not complex when religious dogma is not imposed into every aspect of it, especially aspects of life where it  cannot offer anything of value, which is all of it.

I would love to say that religious dogma is to blame for this social dysfunction but I can't.  All it really does is use us and abuse us and keeps us stuck in it.  There is no way around this.  We are like this because we evolved to be this way.  What I can only hope for is that we will eventually evolve out of it, so that the words 'nuance' and 'complex' can go back to being words to describe aesthetics rather than the navigation of social dysfunction.  But, religious dogma doesn't believe in evolution.

WTF?

This just hit my email inbox a few minutes ago.  I will not reproduce it in full but merely offer you the money quote.

"I came out to my bishop today. Told him that I have been toying with suicide. After all was said and done he told me its best to follow through the suicide then to give into men."

WTF?

And the Mormon Church would have you believe that Bishops are inspired and have the gift of discernment.   If that is the fruits of the "gift" of discernment, I have NO use for that Bishop's gift, that Church or that god.

As the email continued I did get the impression that all was going to be OK.

But still, WTF?

Boyd K. Packer

The rhetoric of Boyd K. Packer this year was needlessly caustic.  And while he may have never mentioned the words, "gay", "homosexual" or even the insidious phrase "same-sex-attraction", we all know what he was talking about.  We all know of his utter disdain for those that don't fit into his idealistic notion of gender, patriarchy and willful ignorance of the world at large.

Boyd K. Packer is just one of many I hold responsible for the damage done to the souls of gay individuals, young and old, in and out of the church.  Such damage that I still grapple with from time to time. 

Boyd K. Packer is the one I personally hold responsible for the encouragement of physical violence towards gay individuals, young and old, in and out of the church.  Such threats that I personally experienced and still find difficult to process.  Let us NOT forget that one of Mathew Sheppard's murderers was a Mormon.

Boyd K. Packer is just one of many who, when he speaks, will incite fear, hatred and malice towards the LGBT community.  The many who I hold responsible are the church members who say 'Amen' with enthusiastic unison to Packer's hostile words. 

If, in some small way, I can save one soul from the anathema that is religion, Mormon or otherwise, my life will not have been a complete waste.   I honestly don't know how I'm going to do that, but it's ok.  At least I managed to save myself for I am one of the lucky ones who found the self-awareness to understand my responsibility.  But many people aren't as fortunate, and many may never get to that point in their lives where they can learn how to repair the damage inflicted upon them, because many of them will have died by their own hand before they could get the support they desperately needed. 

Mormons often wonder why those that leave the church can't leave the church alone.  So they feel picked on by us angry, gay, ex/post-Mormons.  But, I don't care.  I am a product of that religion and culture, 40+ years in the making; it has permeated my DNA and it's not something I feel like I'm ever going to get over in my short lifetime.    Besides, they are the ones who can't leave US alone.  So, if the Mormon church is not willing to take responsibility for Boyd K. Packer, the damage he and many others have done and still do to the LGBT community, but instead continue to blame the victim or Satan, I'm going to continue to poke at their abhorrent hypocrisy, which could very well mean I may never leave them alone.

sorry

Sigh.

I need to apologize for my post on Saturday.  I'm still wondering if I should delete it or not. I guess it could stand as an example as to why I shouldn't write things off the cuff.

My "friend" doesn't deserve to be bad mouthed that way.  Just because I had a problem with him that day, doesn't give me the right to slander his character and I wasn't being completely rational either.

The truth is, having a place to go and a person to keep me occupied, no matter how narcissistic, kept me out of my head long enough to let the suicidal feelings pass. I was at least rational enough to realize that.

But, I'm still in a dilemma.

You see, there are two issues I'm dealing with.  My occasional depression with its  suicidal feelings and my increased health problems with my heart, which have made the depression worsen.  Neither one happens at any predictable schedule.  Neither one will put me in any immediate danger.  The real danger is going to be when they both hit at the same time.  If that happens, I will not be willing to seek medical attention when my heart lapses in to fibrillation.  And if it doesn't kick out within 24 hours, I'll be killing myself with the inevitable stroke or strokes.  This scared the shit out of me.  There is a chance that I can kill myself, or rather allow myself to die, if such conditions align.

This realization hit me last evening while I was out walking in the dark, on a deserted beach, many miles away from a road or any sign of life other than the birds and mosquitoes.  At that point, I knew my depression had lifted because I realized that I was now in a position where if my heart went into fibrillation, I wouldn't have the strength to walk the 5 miles back to my car, passing out in the process of trying.  I also wouldn't be discovered for days if at all, at which point the strokes would have killed my brain by then and my body would have been carried out to sea when the tide came in.  That too, scared the shit out me.  I almost started running back to my car completely freaked out because I no longer wanted to die.

I have no idea what to do about it.  Depression makes me irrational and I don't realize it until after it's passed, at which point I'm glad I don't do what I had been thinking of doing while depressed because during the depression, the irrational seems completely rational.

As for being alone?  I don't know what to do about that either.  It's not as if I know anyone who I can share those long, isolated, no moonlight, walks on the beach with.  FUCK!   It's statements like that that trigger me to get depressed!  God DAMMIT!  fuck this shit!  And fuck my life.

Today used to be my Birthday

Without trying to sound dramatic, today is my birthday and I'm just waiting for it to get the hell over with it.  I HATE being alone on days like these.  Sure, there is an expectation of what I think a birthday should or could be, a happy celebration of my birth, but birthdays are also like the holidays to me, empty and void of genuine well wishing from most people.  There are a few exceptions, VERY FEW, and those few are the only ones that keep me here.  It's too bad they are all thousands of miles away.

I can understand everyone wishing me a "Happy Birthday". It's expected and many do mean well.  But they don't stop there.  They have to rub it in with things like this:

"I hope you're having a fabulous day, filled with lots of happiness, friends and/or family with you!"
"Hope your livin' it up today. Have a good one."
"I hope you get to go do something fun to celebrate the day."
"Hope you do something fun"

Etc.

Everyone expects birthdays to be a special day where you get to do something special, and I'm one of them.  But its specialness is really a stupid idea that I need to let go of, because here is the cold hard reality:

It's no different from any other busy, late summer day.  And today was typical of what happens.

I had asked some other "friends" if they would like to do something today for my birthday but, either they were already at some other event (that I was not invited to) and couldn't hang out, or they just didn't want to do anything.   So I was just going to find something to do on my own.  I was feeling the depression start to hit me early this week so that was not helping it.

So, this morning I woke up groggy and frustrated from a restless night caused by an unbearably stressful and mindless job.  Immediately I got a call from a "friend" who wanted to drive out to The OC* and watch the Red Knights motorcycle procession honoring the fire fighters killed on this day in 2001.   That sounded interesting so I agreed to go.

On the way, I told him that it was my birthday today.  He was surprised and actually thought I was joking. I wasn't surprised that he would do that.  You see, this person doesn't really pay much attention to the thoughts, feelings or lives of other people.  If it's not about him, it doesn't matter.  When he called me -- and he calls me often -- he was merely just bored and looking for something or someone to entertain him.  I've known him for 5 years.  I have to tell him every year that it's my birthday.  I don't expect him to care.  But he will at least buy me dinner, because by his own definition, it's expected.  He'll just do it.  I'm not manipulating him, I'm just taking advantage of his predictability.  But it comes at a cost.

We get to The OC* and I have to listen to him complain about... oh, I don't know.  Who gives a shit anyway?  I stopped listening to him after the fifth time he mentioned how he regretted wearing a black t-shirt in the heat... the whole time.  I finally told him to either walk in the nearest shop and buy a white t-shirt, (there being a shop every 100 feet for the next two miles of the boardwalk) or shut the fuck up.  After a little back and forth about how he would never do that etc. he finally stopped complaining.   But it doesn't stop there. His excessive narcissism kicks in and he as to express himself on every little thing he thinks, sees or does.  And I'm expected to listen with deep interest and even laugh at his non jokes.  Also, I must be prepared to be outwardly and aggressively dismissed, sometimes quite rudely if I dare express anything that interests me and doesn't interest him.  No, I'm not exaggerating here.  And No, I'm not pretending to care about his interests either.  I pretty much ignore him but he really thinks I care, even if I tell him I don't!   He really is that narcissistic!

There is nothing as depressing as being surrounded by people and still feel utterly alone.  But, being out in the sun on a crowded boardwalk with an asshole is better than the alternative, which is sitting at home contemplating ways to kill myself.  I resist going home because to do that is to face my loneliness head on and I just don't want to lose myself in the suicidal thinking.  It's best to stay distracted for now, at least until it passes.

Anyway, because of his incessant boredom and his need to be doing something, we end up missing the processional anyway.   The only reason he wanted to go.  Typical.

Now, I'm sitting at home writing this while debating if this should be deleted or posted.  The day will be over in a few hours.  And I'm starting to feel like I might make it.  I don't know.  I was in the hospital again a few weeks ago because of my heart.  Is this the life I'm to have from here on out?  When is my heart going to kill me so I don't have kill myself?

* The OC I'm referring to here is Ocean City, Maryland. 

Part of the Problem

So, I see this little link pop on Facebook: Another Victim Bites the Dust

Well, I just have one thing to say to Mr. Fales about that.  FUCK. YOU. ASSHOLE!

Mr. Fales has probably never in his life felt the deep depression that precedes suicide.  And if he has I think he has quickly forgotten that when someone is in that state there is no rational thought at all.  I have been there many times in my life.  I do not seek help during those times because I'm oblivious to it.  EVEN if the god damn suicide hot-line is staring me in the face!  And I can, as well as the next person, put on a cheery happy face and laugh and have fun while I'm secretly planning my suicide attempt.  It's real, it's irrational and there is no other way of thinking while in that state.   So, people who get on their high horse such as Mr. Fales just adds the problem and drives people who get that way into further despair. 

And one more thing that I think Mr. Fales doesn't understand is that there is, even in this day and age, a massive stigma associated with depression and other mental illnesses.  That is one of the reasons I never sought professional help during my moments of rationality and why I still don't seek it.

I don't know what the hell Mr. Fales thinks he is doing claiming that the vigil has anything to do with politics and creating an enemy, and then that stupid statement he made about it being  "...narcissistic “Look at me, I’m gay!” when he uses the Mormon church and his sexuality as the basis for his bloody career.  Holy shit, that kid really needs a kick in the ass!

UPDATE (26 July 2010):  Words from the organizer of the vigil, Eric Ethington.

10+1 Favorite Things

Reina tagged me.

I don't normally participate in these tagging games but this time I felt like I needed to.  Not out of obligation but for my own benefit.   I seriously thank Reina for sending it out there like this.  I probably wouldn't have thought of doing this had it not been for her.  It turned out to be just what I needed to lift my spirits.

My list ended up going to eleven. After all, don't all good things go up to eleven?
Anyway, here they are in no particular order:

1. Animals
There is nothing that grounds me more than the non-human living creatures of this planet.  There is something very awe inspiring about creatures that don't spend their lives trying to be something they are not.  They just exist, do their thing, and are happy to be doing it.  Many creatures feel the emotions of fear, anger, joy, happiness but they are not stuck on them, they blow it off and move on.   Their innocence transcends the complexity of the human mind.  Even though the human mind can give us tremendous understanding of our world, it can also be deceived, which creates needless suffering.  Animals are not capable of inflicting suffering upon themselves as we humans do. 

I mostly grew up with cats, dogs, horses and chickens.  Although, I never allowed myself to develop any bonds with dogs and horses until my later years.  I'm still working on birds though. Not sure how but I see myself finding that path through falconry.  I don't know.  We'll see.

Anyway, for some reason I have always easily bonded with cats.  Every cat I have ever owned over the years developed a special bond with me as well.  This bond was never shared with any other member of my family. 

One special bonding moment came when I was around 12 years old.  I woke up one Saturday morning to the sounds of little mews in my bedroom.  But they weren't just in the room.  They were in my bed.  Right there leaning up against my back, as I was lying in my side, was my mother cat and her five newborn kittens.  Rather than hiding away to have her litter as she had done in the past, she had them there with me.  While I was sleeping, she had pressed her back up against mine, as she had done every other night to sleep, but this time rather than find a secluded place in the house, under the bed, closet etc, she felt it safe enough to stay where she was.  I will never forget that.   Nor will I forget my dried crusty bloody pajamas as I was tearing them loose from the crusted bloody bed sheet.   Poor kitty she didn't like me leaving.  I pushed the blanket up to her to fill the space I had vacated.  She was content with that.

2. Dressage
Naturally, because dressage involves riding horses! And I love riding horses, although, I haven't been doing it for very long.  It took me awhile to rediscover the fascination I once had with horses growing up, a topic that needs a post of its own someday.

The neatest thing to me about dressage is that it's just as much about developing a strong, agile and athletic horse as it is about developing a strong, agile and athletic rider.  And the gentle and subtle communication between horse and rider is another special bond that both fascinates and amazes me.

No matter how hard a day I've had at work that week, the moment I step into the stall or walk out to the paddock to retrieve my horse, I no longer care about the world.  I'm fully present for this majestic, powerful, and gentle creature as we teach each other how to work as one.

3. Music
I love music.  I compose music.  I have been composing music since I was 5 years old.  At around age 12 my aunt gave me a few sheets of paper she had written on that showed me how to read music, how chords were constructed and how to transpose into different keys.   Within months, I was now writing things down.  By the time I entered high school, I had composed a huge body of work.   My final semester of my senior year in high school, I was taking 5 music classes out of the 8 periods.  I studied music during my first stint in college although I was never able to complete it.  I toured for one summer with the Blue Knights Drum and Bugle Corps. And during my second stint in college studying to be a Computer Engineer, I still kept my performance and composition skills alive by composing and performing with the percussion ensemble.  A few years ago, my brother-in-law commissioned me to compose the soundtrack to one of his short films.   

Needless to say, much of my life revolves around music.  I'm always looking for new and interesting music that I've never heard before.  Melodic and orchestrated works from modern or classical composers of jazz, heavy metal, folk, elevator, progressive rock, industrial, chill, Celtic, Andean, Latin,  etc.  The list goes on and on.  Too many to mention.  There are genres that I don't like but this post isn't about them.  They are few anyway.   On any given day at work, my iPod will be playing a mixture of an easy listening arrangement by Percy Faith followed by the hard pounding edge of the Dutch heavy metal band, Within Temptation, to be followed by a smooth cello concerto by Samuel Barber and so on.  It's all good.

4. Coffee
I don't drink it for the caffeine; I drink it for the flavor.  So naturally, I'm always buying the pricier stuff.   I was introduced to coffee at the tender age of 10 by my grandmother.  It was the most awesomest thing evar!

5. Sex
Yes I'm going to say it.  Sex, and all that sex can entail.  And it can entail a lot!  Kissing, cuddling, fetishes, BDSM, puppy play etc. and yes, it has to be the gay version.  I have a different blog about this so I don't need to elaborate any more here.  :)

6. Beer 
Not just any beer, it has to be the dark malty kind.  Yummy, malty smooth and malty!  I don't drink beer or any alcoholic drinks to get drunk, I never get drunk.  I drink beer for the flavor!  I just wished it didn't have so many gash darn calories!

7. Internet 
Ok, who DOESN'T love the internet?  Those who are reading this blog I would expect at least like the internet.  If you didn't like the internet, you mostly likely wouldn't be here.  Right?  

For me it's primarily an escape to distract me from the tedious and frustrating existence that I have living in this rural and socially foreign region of the US.  Yeah, there is some bad to that but I'm going to focus on the good.  The internet has accomplished for me the following: 
Allowed me to stay in closer contact with family and friends.  Provided a place for me to connect with other like minded people so that I can have a voice on topics that I would never have the opportunity to discuses otherwise.  Find hook ups with people with like minded interests.  Find dates with people with like minded interests. Look up crazy-ass things on Wikipedia, Google and lds.org.  And most importantly, it was instrumental in allowing me to find a particular picture of a friend of mine, which triggered my coming out process that forever changed the course of my life for the better. 

What would I have done without the internet?  

8. Computers and Programming 
Although, many might include this into internet, as it does require a computer to get on the internet, I think of it completely different.  I have been programming computers since I was 12 years old, long before the internet existed.  If I wasn't off tinkering on the piano or banging away on the drum set, I was on the computer, writing programs.  Anywhere form silly little things that played songs or plotted pretty designs on the monitor to elaborate database programs that I used to keep track of my huge reel-to-reel tape collection.

Now, I use the computer for almost everything I do.  It's the primary tool I use for my employment, to build my music compositions and recordings, write, blog, watch TV and otherwise communicate with the rest of the world.  The computer is the only appliance in my life that I would want to have with me if I were stranded on a desert island.  Assuming of course that there was a place to plug it in and I could get free Wi-Fi.

9. Walking and Nature
Granted they are two separate things but I'm combining them as they go hand in hand for me.

I walk a lot.  When I go out walking, I average about 4 miles per trip.  And depending on time, I may do several walks a day ranging from 3-10 miles.   I have lost a lot of weight doing this.  But the other reason I walk is to clear my head.  It helps me work out the anxiousness that builds up from sitting in a windowless office all day or help me blow off anger and frustration at the world in general. 

Even though there have been times I've walked on an indoor track with some friends, I prefer to only do my walking outside.  Walking outside could mean anything from walking around the town or city to hiking in the park or woods.  But ultimately, anything with a natural setting is ideal and preferred even if I have to drive a while to get there.

Since there are no mountains, I have to make do with the sandy beaches of my favorite place out here, the Chincoteague National Wildlife Preserve, which is mostly on Assategue Is. VA.  On any given day of the year, and I've pretty much hit that place every month throughout the year since 2007, I have seen more varieties of wildlife in that short time than I ever did growing up in rural Utah.  And watching these animals in their natural setting while I'm out communing with nature is a spiritual and profoundly grounding experience.  (see Animals)

10. Photography
I love the idea of making art out of an instantaneous moment in time, to capture a glimpse of the real word for a split second.  What would never be seen in that exact state ever again, is now captured forever.  And out of that moment is born something new.

Images can capture beauty and emotion that transcend from the time they were taken.  And for me, as I'm a very visually oriented thinker, such images draw me in, inspire, and stimulate me in ways that other art forms cannot.  Not even sculpture or paintings.  I hope to be featuring more of my photography in my blogs in the coming years.
 
11.  Family
Last but not least, my family.  This could be an entire blog post of its own.  In fact all of the things on here could be.  But let me just say this, without my mom and dad and many of my siblings, I wouldn't have made it this far.  I wouldn't be here to tell the tale of my life.  They have been the only true friends I will ever have and I can't even begin to express how fortunate I am.  I'm not even sure I can comprehend the magnitude of that fortune.  I'm fully aware that many others don't have what I have when it comes to family.  It breaks my heart.  I wish they could have mine. 

My parents have always had an open house to people over the years, many of them struggling in some why or other with their lives.  By giving them a space to crash for a time demonstrates the amazing generosity they have that not even I have been capable of giving.  I'm still the black sheep in this family, but this family is welcoming of the back sheep. 

Truth be told, it wasn't always like that, but it changed.  Back in the late 80's my mom found the courage, strength and open mindedness to drive her to find the path that would work when the life that was handed to her was failing miserably.   She questioned and challenged the status quo, looked beyond the LDS church to find real answers, real solutions!  By doing so, she brought the rest of us with her.   Now, here we are today.  From deep dysfunction grew strength, love and acceptance.  It's not perfect but it's all that it needs to be. 


tagging...
The rules of this tagging game are that I am to tag 10 others.  I'm not comfortable with doing that but if you feel inspired by my list, go for it, and let me know by posting a comment here.

UPDATE:  What the hell!   I realized there are a few people I really want to know better so I'm just going to go a head and risk it by tagging them, dammit!    I don't know if they will ever see this but it's out there.
Mel
Laruen T. Hart
fonsy
Stella 
Andee 
Quiet Song 
Maureen 
ControllerOne
UPDATE AGAIN:  looks like Quite Song already posted before I completed my tag list!  LOL!

My Yearend Evaluation 2009

I had a moment of clarity the other day.  When looking back at the year, I had completely forgotten about all of the awesome things that happened in 2009.  I didn't blog about most of them.  I probably should have or at least made some mention of them somewhere.  Hell, I don't even have any journal entries of most of them.  I seem to just want to stew in the drama and I failed to really dive into a lot of the fun and positive moments, and there were many.

So what are some of the cool things that are worth mentioning?  Well, for one, I had my first real gay date this year!  I lost my gay virginity during that date too.  Just a few months before my 40th birthday!  That 40-year-old-virgin thing was a stigma in my family that I DID NOT want to try and live down.  Seriously!  How funny is that? 

Well, I guess you would just have to understand my family.  

OK, so what else happened?   I don't remember a lot of stuff.  I should have written it down.  I think the "losing my virginity" thing has completely overshadowed anything I care to think about at the moment. 

Anyway...

I think this goes without saying but I'll say it anyway, this blog is a small part of my life and it's an even smaller part of my daily mental process.  I have used it to open up an even smaller window into my head.  Sometimes the view was an honest and sincere searching of my soul, other times it was wrought with whiny, self-centered, self-pitying and otherwise pathetic pandering of my ego.   But, either way, it was the shit in my head at the time it was written, so at least that accounts for something.   Right?   I think it does. 

I'm a normal, happy, person most of the time.  I have an OK job where I write software (sometimes) and I do it really well.  I have hobbies in music, filmmaking, writing, photography, renaissance festivals, dressage, walking/hiking, biking, BDSM, yoga, blogging etc.  The list goes on.  I stay busy. 

But like all normal people, I have my bad days.  And it just so happens my bad days get dark, really dark.  Dark, in that I will have those moments where I swing to the irrational suicidal thinking.  Rest assured those moments have been happening with less frequency and shorter in duration.  Two years ago, I would be in a stupor of suicidal planning for months at a time, long gut wrenching months of anxiety and despair.  Now, the anxiety bit is missing and the rest only lasts for about an hour, then it's gone.

However, no matter what, I always feel a deep heavy sting moving into and during the holiday period.  That sting I noticed became more and more prevalent around 2004 after the last of my siblings got married.  It reached its worst in 2007 right after my mental breakdown and has tapering a little bit since, although, this year felt like a step back somewhat.  That's something to explore some other time.  I may even write about the event in 2007 too.  I still have some work to do to sort it out though.

Most of my posts happen after I've been pondering a concept or situation in my head for a while, in some cases months.  Some of them have been rants, some of them haven't. But all of them have been a process for me to clarify as to who, what, when and where I am, and what I'm trying to accomplish.  And in the end they have succeeded in getting me to see, albeit sometimes grudgingly, what my hang-ups really are. 

No matter what the realities of my mental state, conscious or unconscious, I needed to sort some things out in a public way.  So this blog, in addition to the comments I got back, really ended up giving me some profound self-realizations.  Not the ones I was setting out to realize, but nothing ever happens the way we intend. 

Because I worried too much about making my blog some sort of self-important, quixotic, beacon to the world, I got too self absorbed which weighted it down on the dark side.  Not that would be a worry to me but, -- and here is me pandering to my readership again -- it did leave the impression that I am unhappy.  Ironically, unhappiness was precisely what I was worried people would think.  Well to be honest, the last three months I was very unhappy.   And, as much as my ego hates to admit this, I was very much using my blog to bask in my own self-induced victimhood.  Not that there is anything inherently wrong with that per se, it is what it is.  However, it ultimately accomplished something good in the end.  In order for me to understand what was happening, what was going wrong for me, I had to travel that path of wrongness until I hit a brick wall.  It seems unfortunate but how else do we learn?  I have a hell of a lot of book knowledge on these subjects, but awareness and perspicacity only comes from experience.

I'm proud of myself. I really came though this year.  After all of that coded nagging in my writing and day to day life, I finally cracked the code.  I finally faced my fear of what people think of me.  Not only did I crack the code, I processed it so that I would no longer get stuck on it again.  I had a sudden and dramatic shift in my thinking when I hit that point.  So, from this point forward, I know things are going to be very different.  I don't know how or in what way, but I do know it's not going to be the same old shit that I have been doing.  Granted, it will probably be the same old shit I write though.  The ups and downs are still going to be there.  But, will I care what you think?  Yeah, in some ways I will, but not in the same way that I've cared in the past.  It's different.  How different?  It's wait-and-see.  I don't expect any reader to notice but I will and that's all the really matters.

It amuses me when the media looks back on a year well before the year was even over.  I can't really look back on something until it's in my past and I've had a chance to let hindsight and my shady memory shape it into some sort of perspective.   It's still too soon to get any real sense of the profound impact this holiday season has had on me.  All I can say is that it was profound enough to cause a shift in my thinking, a shift in my consciousness.

So, looking back on the year, I have been able to come to two absolute conclusions.  1) I realized I had set out on this blogging adventure for completely the wrong reasons.  2) No matter what the original reason was, it didn't matter; I still learned a shit-load about myself in the end.  

So, here is to a new year that just happens to be called twenty-ten. 

Unlovable

As much as my life has gotten a million times better I still, for whatever reason, find that I dance on that edge of suicide from time to time.  As I am doing now.  What were the triggers this time? 
People and friends, who I thought were friends,  turning their backs on me, pushing me aside like I'm nothing.  My existence is somehow anathema to them.    This too shall pass, but when?  Will I have any friends left?  And what is a friend anyway?  Loneliness is terrifying!

Ever since LDS conference I've been feeling the cold shoulder from people.  No doubt because of the talk by Oaks in which he tries to expound on all the conditions that must be met before God can give unconditional love.  Is that the Mormon God or Oaks's God?  It is one in the same, as Oaks speaks for the Mormon God.    I don't believe in that God.  I don't care if an imaginary being loves me or not.  But they do.  So they can't love me because I don't meet the conditions that their God requires.    Who are these people?

I am a Queer Spirit

Well it's been a few weeks since the Queer Spirit Retreat out in Utah and I've just now had a chance to take a moment and decompress the jumble of thoughts in my head.

The retreat was an amazingly positive experience for me and completely opposite of what the LDS religion could ever offer.  And in a sense, because it was in September, it marked the two year reunion of my personal crisis that led me down the road of confusion, despair, apostasy, awakening, renewal, joy and peace.  Now, two years later, it marks the beginning of a new and happier chapter of my life. 

I'm rather amazed at just how little drama my life has anymore.  It used to be that so much of my life, every little detail, every little thought, decision, action, expectation, and desire was weighted down with anxiety.  Because every little thing had to be scrutinized for its value good or bad, I had to have certainty where something was going to lead me, heaven or hell, and most of the time I just couldn't get it.  No longer do I feel the need to do that anymore.  Now every so often when I meditate on my life,  I amaze myself at just how uncomplicated it all really is when we let go of the things that we have no control over.  Letting go.  Letting go of beliefs that do not work for us.  Letting go of needing to be right.  Letting go of ego.  And in letting go, what is left is pure authenticity.  Honesty. 

Oh, the lies we tell and believe.  I look back at my life and see the trend as I was spiraling down to my own personal depths of becoming homophobic and how I didn't recognize the irrationality.  My world view and personal identity was defined by lies.  And those lies covered the pain.  My ego was in control of my life, protecting me with lies.  The ego is stupid.  It doesn't know what a lie is but it wants to protect it no matter what.  The ego can't know if what it's protecting is causing more harm.  It just protects it with whatever we give it.  And what I always gave it were lies.

When I came out to myself and finally accepted my sexuality, I found myself craving absolute honesty.  I was no longer going to deceive myself or other people to protect my beliefs or theirs.  And if the truth hurt, the honesty hurt, I knew I had to let go of my ego.

When I think about what it takes to be honest I still find myself struggling with it. Growing up in a religious culture that required me to deny the reality of my surroundings so that it would conform to a belief, a lie, has given me this horrible, habitual, dishonest, thinking pattern that I fight with all of the time.   So many things where never to be thought, spoken, or acted upon.  It all builds up and permeates other aspects of life. 

We have to hide our fears and pretend to be happy.  We don't want people to think the religion is making us depressed.  We don't want to make the church look bad.  We certainly don't want to admit to ourselves that we have compromised the things we know to be true so that we can belong to the "one true religion" in order to receive all the blessings from a god that we hope exists.  We even convince ourselves that we know that "He" really does exist.  Lie after lie after lie.   After awhile I didn't know what was true anymore.  I didn't even understand how I really felt about things.  I couldn't at any moment in my life make a decision without consulting an authority.  My thinking was done for me.  And yet my life was in shambles. 

The world terrified me.   Meeting new people terrified me. I would have so much anxiety I could never look at anyone. I could never actually speak honestly. I was so ashamed of myself that I would lie or divert attention to someone else just so people wouldn't pay attention to me.  I judged people.  The judgments were all lies I told to myself.  All lies I believed.  It all lead to my own personal crisis two years ago in September where my entire world turned upside down and I spent months dancing on the edge of suicide. 

But I finally came to some closure early Saturday morning at the retreat as I noticed two individuals off in the distance standing on the stairway to the upper floor of the 2nd ranch house as I waited to watch the sunrise. I knew they saw me.  But I didn't have the courage to talk to them.  I still wasn't quite free of my judgmental thinking and how it had ruled my life to the point of mental breakdown.   Always judging people by what I think they would be thinking about me, always afraid that they would hate me for my sexuality, queerness and just general social awkwardness.   Again, all lies.

But I knew their story from the night before and I was in empathy with them.  I had only faced early death as a choice.  They were facing it as an inevitability.   I had no right to judge anyone, especially myself.  Still, that morning, I just stood there for about an hour and cried. Mostly to mourn the loss of my old life, the life that I wanted but never had or will ever have. But in the end, whether I talked to them or not, just their mere presence that morning was a major healing experience for me.   And had I spoken to them that day I would have known that they would reciprocate that empathy.

After all these years, looking for my place in the world I didn't realize that I didn't need to leave Utah to find it. Well, actually, I DID need to leave Utah to discover that I didn't need to leave Utah.   My community wasn't where I was located; it was the people with whom I associate with.  But I was always waiting for someone to come knocking at my door to invite me. Ironically when they did I would judge them too harshly and push them away. I've gotten to that point now where I realize that if I don't go knocking I will never know what it's like to live. And if I'm going to accept someone else's effort to reach out to me I must be able to reach back and be ready to do it blindly.  But most importantly, I have to stop judging people.  I will never know what others are truly thinking about me anyway and in the end it doesn't matter what they think.

Two years ago I would never have even thought about doing something like this retreat.  But here I am.  It's really strange to admit this, but after 40 years on this planet, I finally feel like I've grown up a little.

I Must Needs Be Labeled

Over the past few months I've been thinking about how I would go about resetting my blog.  I felt like I had gotten to a point where I was writing myself into a corner on account of how I talked about my goals for the blog vs. where it ended up going.  Ultimately, I was using this blog to search for my identity.  But upon trying on different things in that attempt, I found myself getting locked into conditions that I wasn't comfortable with.   I started to worry a lot about being consistent, as if I was writing to an audience that was expecting me to only write a particular way and only about particular things. 

I wanted to present myself in a way that showed that I was mature, refined and intelligent.  Am I any of those things?  Who am I?  What am I?  What does it mean to be something?  I have been trying to figure that out my whole life.  I needed a definition.   I wanted to find my voice.  And I was searching for a role.  What is my role? 

It took me awhile to realize that when trying to define who I am by assigning myself a role, I'm no longer myself.  I'm that role.  And what was defining this role?  Perceptions?  Who's perceptions?  Mine?  Or my opinion of how I think others would perceive me.   Yeah, not just how I think others would perceive me but my opinion of how I think others would perceive me.   Such that I would attempt to predict how they might perceive me in a particular way, and then I would add to that judgment a judgment, good or bad, based solely on what I judge they might be thinking. 

Complicated?  Yeah, and fucking ridiculous too.  It's all a judgment of a judgment of a judgment of a judgment where all judgments are pulled out of my ass. I could probably channel that creativity into something more productive.

Unfortunately it's a bad habit from decades of habitually not thinking about the habitual thinking patterns that feed themselves with more bad habitual non-thinking. 

Wait, does that even make sense?  Yea, it does now that I've reread it a few times.  I just had to think about it.

We are taught in our youth that labels matter.   Yes, we are taught this.  We are taught to identify ourselves by those labels.  Is that why insults and name calling hurt so much?  Is it no wonder why we are cautioned not to use them to intentionally hurt people?  If labels didn't matter, we couldn't use them to hurt.  But they do matter and we do use them to hurt.  All the while we tell ourselves that we don't mean to hurt people. But we do. And we hurt ourselves too.

We give others permission, we give ourselves permission and sometimes we think we've been given permission by The Lord God Almighty™  to use labels, sometimes to intentionally hurt people.  The scriptures are full of labels.  Lists and lists of them.  All based on the author's personal bias.  Who is the author?  God?  It depends on who you talk to but many believe it was god.  Many of those believers gave themselves important, authoritarian sounding labels which gave them power over those who didn't. 

I spent decades being deceptively beaten into submission and subjected to the dictates of importantly labeled people.  So, any of my efforts to define my existence had basically been done for me.  I didn't have to figure it out.  I took it for granted that the labels placed on me, as to my identity, were who I really was?  

It started with simple labels that put an identity to how my behavior was being perceived by others: shy, quiet, bashful, funny, obedient, mature, depressed, arrogant, obnoxious, intelligent, annoying.   These were incidental moments, but over time, I adopted them as to who I was.  I could identify with these things easily. The definitions came from a dictionary.

Then there were the more abstract and complicated labels.  These were to deepen my identity and give it greater responsibility: Son, Brother, Friend, Student, Christian, Mormon, Child of God, Sinner, Homosexual, Abomination, Sodomite, Pervert, Pedophile, Apostate.  These roles were harder to define.  Too many different perspectives and opinions as to what these roles meant.  It was harder to adapt to these roles.  They kept changing depending on the time or the place or the other person's perception.  I resisted many of them but they would stir in the back of my mind, beckoning me to define and attach to my identity. 

What did they say about me?  Obnoxious?  Christian? Sinner? Mature? Pervert? Child of God? Pedophile? Am I these things?  How do I know?  How do they respond to the idea of each of these things?  If they think the label is positive can I meet their expectations? Should I meet them?  If it's negative is it true?  What is my experience?  If I believe their perceptions are valid then those labels might be true, even if I don't like them, even if they are not true.  What do I do?  If they are not true am I going to need to take on opposing roles so as to appear unpredictable and inconsistent, also labels, in order to hide or disassociate from them?  Hopefully those labels would be taken away if I did.  Or do I just resign my identity to the labeling authorities' and live accordingly so as not to counter their expectations of what I should do thereby avoiding unwanted conflict? 

It's psychotic.  Once these labels are assigned, they taint how we perceive others and ourselves; we distort who we really are. 

So, all this time I've been caught up in labels, caught up with needing a label for my identity.  Who am I?  What am I?  What am I right now?   Does it have a label?  Writer?  Brother?  Son?  Homosexual?  Pervert? Etc.?  Or can I just believe that I am mature, refined and intelligent?  At least that's what I tell myself to counter the negative labels that I've been forced to identify with.  But, ultimately, that just causes me to take on a role of self-righteousness and arrogance as it's only a reaction to anyone who I perceived as not being mature, refined and intelligent.

No.  I'm not any of these things.  They are all someone else's version of me.  And in the end these roles require that I behave in ways that are also defined by someone else.  None of them describe the being that is me. 

Does it matter? 

I want to understand myself but, again, the moment I think I have an understanding I've already assigned it a role, a label, based on someone else's perception.  It's the classic physics problem wherein the attempt to measure the event causes the event to change.  We are only ourselves when we are not trying to define, label or categorize ourselves.

Our existence seems to evade traditional definability.  Are we then indefinable?  We can't even say we are human as that is really only a label to describe our physical from.  It's not who we are.  The best I could say as a definition is that we are beings who are aware of ourselves. 

So, when I'm not thinking about who I am, I'm not trying to be someone.  At that point I'm just me. If I can be content to never understanding who I am does that mean I've finally found who I am?   I can't really put my finger on why, but this actually makes sense to me. 

So, anyway, back to this blog... I've decided what I'm going to do about it. 

Nothing. 

It is what it is: a public presentation of some guy's journey in life marked with specific points in time by long strings of words that reflect the contents of his brain as he dumps it from a big dump truck and pipes it into the series of tubes that is the Internet. 

He'll think whatever, and write whatever.

You can read whatever and think whatever.  If you feel inclined to comment, you can write whatever.

Win-Win!

Yay!

Looking Back

NOTE:

The following was a letter I sent to my mom in July of 2008. It was an attempt to explain to her my rocky relationship with the church over the years. It's interesting to look back and see what I was working through during my moments of clarity, although, parts of it are aimless and incoherent. It is what it is and marks a milestone in my path to thinking for myself. WARNING: It's long. But then I had a lot to say.

---

Well, I keep going back to the churches official statement on homos.

http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/public-issues/same-gender-attraction

And it's continually laced with behavior this and behavior that.

OAKS: "The distinction between feelings or inclinations on the one hand, and behavior on the other hand, is very clear. It's no sin to have inclinations that if yielded to would produce behavior that would be a transgression. "

WICKMAN: "One of the great sophistries of our age, I think, is that merely because one has an inclination to do something, that therefore acting in accordance with that inclination is inevitable. That's contrary to our very nature as the Lord has revealed to us. We do have the power to control our behavior."

Remember about what I said regarding behavior that is unconscious.
They are not referring to that. It appears that they don't recognize it at all. What they are getting at is holding hands, hugging, kissing, etc. Behaviors that would get one kicked out of BYU if it was between the same sex. Those are visual, made by choice and are judged by them as sinful, disgusting, abominable, perverted etc. Between opposite sex it's expected and desired behavior.

Wickman is especially offensive when he refers to it as a lifestyle and that we are just simply "afflicted with same-gender attraction". His statement is basically why I have to get the fuck out of here. The reality is not that I'm afflicted with same-gender attraction, the reality is that I'm afflicted by other peoples ignorance and bigotry and fear. The semantics of the argument are to twist it into what amounts to as emotional blackmail.

Check out the section where he uses his handicapped daughter as a tool for manipulating his point. It has a place as an illustrative example but it is manipulative because to me it compares apples to asparagus.

I'm still trying to argue with these people in my mind. I feel the need to challenge these things because it's very clear to me that the truth is getting manipulated with semantics in order to misrepresent or demonized homosexuality as it exists within natural human behavior. It's frustrating to me because I don't know how to communicate what it is they are doing all of the time.

They just don't understand how hurtful it is to be marginalized especially in the very subtle ways they are doing it. It's hard to let go of. Right now I'm lacking any gay affirming influences because I'm so isolated out here. But that's just what they want me to avoid. As long as I can never accept who I really am they will be able to exhort a measure of control over me. I just don't know what to do right now.

Somehow I can't help but think that the truth of my existence has been used against me in order for the church to exhort some sort of control. But what is this control? Why do they want to control? That I don't understand. With control there is no agency. But they keep teaching agency but it's always associated with the teaching of consequences. But that is common sense. However it's tainted. It's loaded down with promises of things to come. I must have faith and I must make the right choice or I will not reap the benefits of the after life. If I fail to make the right choice I will be cut off. Promises and threats, to warn me of the right and wrong choice. And then a judgment on what is right and wrong. It's as if I'm not allowed to think for myself. But then if I don't make the choice I'm told to make, then the church cuts me off and says that I've cut myself off from god. I'm controlled or "forced" to pick the right choice. But what about the reward? Well if I didn't get the reward than I'm told I didn't choose "hard" enough. This sounds hyperbola. The explanation may seem contrived but the experience and the feelings are not.

This is madness. I come to the church for answers and put effort into it and they promise answers and all I get back are reasons why I'm not going to get answers. I get condemnation for something I didn't choose. Telling me (at least in the past) that it was something I did or created and that I didn't work hard enough to be rid of it or I really didn't want it to go away. Why did I put so much trust in the church? Because I was told that the church was [guided with] this mysterious thing called the spirit and that would give normal people knowledge beyond what the world could ever figure out on their own. I wanted this great spirit to give me knowledge and answers.

But those answered never came. Why? I was told that I didn't have enough faith. What was faith? I believed that I would get answers and was told that the reason I got nothing because I didn't have enough faith and if I wanted answers I had to work harder. I didn't know that believing and faith were the same thing. But whatever the case may be, I was lead to believe that what ever was lacking was my fault and I would have to figure out what the problem was on my own and if I asked god he would help though the spirit. In the mean time I invest time and even some money into this church and all I get back is someone telling me that I'm not doing it right.

But then what is the church for? The church is for the people. Then why do the people have to work so hard for the church? Why must I prove to the church my worthiness?

I'm told that I must repent of homosexual tendencies. Tendencies? So these are things that I can "stop doing" or swing back to heterosexual tendencies? That sounds laughable.

To do that, I have to rid myself of them. How? This is so inherent to my ingrained thinking I don't know how to think any other way. I have to destroy that part of me. How? I can only deny that part of me. I have to lie to myself. How can that create a stable personal identity? It doesn't. I should know. I tried it. But I still had no concept for heterosexual tendencies.

It bugs the shit out of me that the church only thinks of it in terms of erotic attraction. I can't even begin to explain how surreptitious that line of rationalization is. It's as if to admit that if it's anything other than sex then it would put it in danger of getting legitimized.

There seems to be this preoccupation with sex. It seems to be one of the most prominent tools used to control and manipulate in the church.

I have never known a time in this church when I never felt like I was being manipulated, controlled and punished. There was always something I wasn't doing right. And it didn't matter how small and mundane. It got to the point that everything in my life had a right and wrong answer. I couldn't trust my own judgment anymore. How could I? No matter what I thought, there was always someone else judging my decision as not in accordance with the "right" choice. I didn't really know what that the judgment of "right" was. I had the spirit but I couldn't figure it out. There was always some authority figures with the spirit who would always tell me my choices were "wrong".

They were always people in the church.

So the church is made out of men. Men who are constantly telling us that the lord directs the church. But then where is the lord on this issue? I guess it doesn't really matter that much. I don't really get the purpose of the lord in this plan anyway. But nonetheless, where is he? Where is the revelation that tells us what the deal is with gay people? No one has asked. The proclamation was never claimed to be revelation.

But what of this scripture: http://scriptures.lds.org/2_ne/4/34-35#34
2 Nephi 4:34-35

"34 O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever. I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that putteth his trust in the arm of flesh. Yea, cursed is he that putteth his trust in man or maketh flesh his arm.
35 Yea, I know that God will give liberally to him that asketh. Yea, my God will give me, if I ask not amiss; therefore I will lift up my voice unto thee; yea, I will cry unto thee, my God, the rock of my righteousness. Behold, my voice shall forever ascend up unto thee, my rock and mine everlasting God. Amen. "

So the church is made of men whom I'm not to trust in. But the church says trust in the men as they "are led by god". And the men assure us that God would never allow the men of the church to lead us astray. But who is saying that? Well, God is, right? I go to him and ask him, as he should be the one that tells me what's going on. "IF I ask not amiss." and then a string of appeasement? It is written as such but that would be silly for that to be what is meant.

But the men in the church want appeasement or I'm not righteous enough. They tell me that it's the reason why, when I went to pray for confirmation, I got a DIFFERENT answer than what they told me. They said it was because I asked amiss, that I was selfish and was denying the spirit. I had done it wrong.

I don't know how many times I've heard them tell me over the years to go back and pray about it until I got the answer that they said I should get.

Manipulation indeed.

Well the men are running this church right now. And because of that I can't continue on. Some times I feel like I'm betraying you(mom). Sometime I feel like I've actually fallen into the trappings of the devil. The men of the church warned me over and over again that the adversary would work really hard to do this and ensnare me to twist and corrupt the words to work in my favor.

Yet no matter what I read I see the words being open ended for anyone to twist and distort them to be used for what ever purpose they want them to be.

The men in the church use their standing as the authority to judge my views as sinful and my life as inherently flawed. And that this flaw is a burden I must carry the rest of my life. But they judge that this burden, as an internal struggle of same-sex attraction, is no different than someone's susceptibility to gambling, tobacco or alcohol? (Oaks says this stuff) His tactics, by using such conditions as examples of comparison, stand on their own merits as missing the point as far as I'm concerned. And I would pray that people would really examine the reality of the church's silly treatment of the gay issue in society and then just leave us alone. Stop trying to fix us. Stop trying to set us aside as perversions of nature who are a threat to children and the moral fabric of society.

I don't see same-sex attraction as the burden anymore. And I can't find compelling reason to even believe that homosexual sex is sinful. And I would be amiss to not realize that the men in the church make sure I understand that I've rationalized myself into this egregious apostasy and sinned against god and nature. After all, homosexual sex is one of the vilest acts of indecency the church has had the privilege to condemn.

But this isn't about sex. It's about love. If I can't accept the reality that I fall in love with other men than I can't possibly learn to accept myself and understand the concept of loving myself. A concept that has been utterly foreign to me all my life. How can I understand what it means to love god or neighbor if I can't even know the basic love of who I am.

No, the real burden is to go though life as a second class human being in the eyes of the church and much of society. Prone to discrimination and threat of life. To be hated by some for no other reason than to fulfill their need to hate someone.

The biggest lie is that this life is a test or exam. It's not a test. It's an experience. But just last Sunday that old line was fed again and again. "This life is a test to see what we will do. To test our willingness to make right choices. And as we make the right choices, God rewards us in heaven." blah blah blah. Right and wrong choices. There seems to be a problem when a group of people who have no knowledge or experience in another person's life has the authority to dictate what is the right and wrong choice for them. And then claims authority to dish out judgment and punishment if the "right" choice isn't made.

What am I still holding on to? I'm still holding out for some more answers. And admittedly I got my answers but they were just too hard to take. I have to give up things I'm not sure I can give up. I have to face head on fears that have followed me for years. It is hard. There are so many dehumanizing and demonizing beliefs that have been ingrained in me. And because of my self-realization, I know now that they must be lies. But the small shred of truth that I see in them feeds my doubts.

I recognize that the very thing the church warns of and fights against is the very thing they are responsible for creating. They fulfilled their own prophecy of the evils of homosexuals. It's that world they created I fear.

I feel like the church has managed to inflict me with severe emotional abuse.
And surely I have felt this religion as more hurtful than of healing. As many others have too. But the baggage that we all carry with us I'm afraid will prevent me from proving the church wrong.

No matter what I do it just turns out to be one big double bind for me.

Christ would never be a Mormon

An interesting little thing popped up on the internet earlier this month. It's a response from the Christian Anti-Defamation Commission (CADC) regarding the results of a survey conducted by the Gallop Poll on the public's view of gay marriage: "Are You Safe? How Moral Corruption Can Be Prevented"

I wonder why that poll or its results would be something that the CADC would bother with. It wasn't attacking or defaming any Christians. I guess for Christianists, just placing the word 'gay' next to the word 'marriage' is provocation enough to be considered an attack.

As expected, the little CADC's article was quickly addressed on many other blogging sights that I follow. My favorite addressed the CADC's misuse of the bible: "Don't be deceived by teh gays!!"

That crap in the CADC's article and what I endured in Mormon Sunday school every week, up until I resigned last winter, is essentially the same damned thing. It's interesting that even though the Mormons have fundamentally different doctrines and ways of interpreting the bible, they will come up with the exact same un-Christian like ideas that the evangelical fundamentalists have, but still claim to be the only source of truth.

No matter how soft the Mormons' think their rhetoric on homosexuality as become, it will never undo the hell-fire-damnation-pulpit-pounding of decades past. The religious culture is too ingrained. Frankly, I believe the new "softer" rhetoric from the church is just a rebranding of the same old shit from the past, making it much worse. For hell's sakes, they refuse to acknowledge the clinical word 'homosexual' and instead prefer the term 'same-gender attraction (SGA)'! It's usually paired with the word 'problem' or 'struggle' or 'suffer' and equated to a handicap or a drug and alcohol addiction. There is no concept of self-acceptance in the gospel if you're gay. Those with SGA are not to accept that part of themselves. It is to be hidden deep down inside and NEVER TALKED ABOUT, EVER! Doing otherwise would lead to temptation, sin and eternal damnation. So, no matter what they say, being gay is a stigma, a stigma that will always be to your condemnation in the church.

It's a typical example of spiritual manipulation and abuse. Invent a moral dilemma and then promise salvation from it. For some it results in an extreme loyalty to the church and its gospel, for others, severe depression, schizophrenia and suicide.

Mormons are not bad people. There is no such thing as bad people. They are good people who are motivated by fear to do what they think is right. Sometimes what they do is actually bad but believe it's for the greater good. It's in God's hands. His will be done. And often, as seen in the bible, God's will was death and destruction. To give oneself over to an "authority" is noble to them. But it's also justification for absolving oneself of personal responsibility when dishing out what they believe to be God's judgment. It's not just Mormons. Insert any fanatical belief system that motivates adherence through fear. Bad things start to happen.

We homos are just another thing in the Mormon bucket of things to fear. But, again, this is more about a culture that stems from people who, out of fear, isolate themselves and paint their own version of reality to immune themselves from new and threatening information. A culture so ignorant and anathema to sanity, it's no wonder why suicide rates are high amongst the Mormons.

During my time growing up as a confused Gayish-Mormon-Boi in Utah, all I understood about the outside world came from television and movies. I was an overly sensitive and highly impressionable kid and took it all at face value. I didn't know what was going on "in between the lines" so to speak. But thanks to my loving, authoritarian, dogmatic, ecclesiastical authority figures, the "truth" of it was all explained to me on a weekly basis in lurid and sometimes disturbing detail. Was any of it true? No, but I wouldn't find out for another 20 odd years.

That steady stream of misinformation and demonization from those trusted "authorities" had really twisted my ability to correctly perceive people. (Hell, I could probably write a whole book on misperception.) So naturally, I developed an unhealthy fear of people, especially the gay ones, which is why I'm going to be in therapy for awhile.

The cultural climate was essentially that most non-Mormons were evil and did nothing all day but do the evil doing. We Mormons were, at all costs, to stay clear of anyone that does do the evil doing. Especially if they looked like they might possibly be a doer of evil, as even the appearance of evil must be avoided. And we needed to be extra vigilant as Mormons because evil doers often presented themselves with a pleasant and friendly appearance to deceive us so they could corrupt us in subtly enticing ways.

Now, just imagine for a moment waking up one morning and realizing that you might be gay, thus automatically making you evil. Hey, that's what the "authorities" warned me would happen if I ever felt the evil gayness inside of me. And the "authorities" spared no expense to proclaim, with their absolute God given authority, all the different evil doings that that the evil gay evil doers would do. They told us in detail what these gays looked and acted like, and about all the horrendous, deprived, evil, activities they engaged in and committed on unsuspecting adults and children. And now, I somehow become one of them, either by committing an evil gay act on myself or allowing some evil gay to act his evil gay acts on me. One particular "authority" also made it clear that it was my own fault if I didn't violently protect myself.

Now, I was never sexually molested but, because an "authority" said so, I used to believe that my gayness was because I was molested as a small child. And because I believed that I was molested -- albeit lost in some repressed memory I'm sure -- I believed that I would become a molester. After all, according to the "authorities", I was "molesting" myself all the time whenever I masturbated. It was only a matter of time, given the opportunity, before I would be tempted to pass it along. I was so scared of having my life ruined by even an accusation of molestation that I went out of my way to avoid children for decades.

Well, the next stage was the inevitable isolation, loneliness, repression, depression and suicidal longings. The "authorities" also were quick to teach that all that misery was because of my depraved self-molestation and evil thoughts of doing the evil gay doings. To them it was God's way of helping us understand what we were doing wrong so we could repent. What more could you want for a 13 year old kid than to ensure he understands his guilt so that he can repent?

Moral dilemma!

Now the "authorities" begin to school me on the ways of "righteousness" so that I would be free of the evil gayness. Making sure I paid my tithing was number one priority. Tithing didn't bother me; I didn't have any money so it didn't apply. The rest of it was all just simplistic promises and lip service. Be vigilant in controlling all "bad" thoughts. Pray to God like you really mean it, because if you REALLY mean it you will be "cured". If you weren't cured, then you were being selfish.

I guess I was a selfish pervert who didn't mean it because it never went away. More guilt. More, isolation. More, repression, depression and suicidal thoughts. And I mustn't forget that there were a few "authorities" back then who instructed that suicide was an instant go-to-hell card. Do not pass redemption, do not collect salvation. So, more guilt for thinking about suicide.

And I thought religion was supposed to foster spiritual awareness and enlightenment.

Yes, moral dilemma indeed.

Thankfully, out of much desperation, I got wise to the ignorance of the "authorities". And out of that desperation, I finally allowed myself to question all of it to see for myself what it really was.

Complete bullshit! Obviously.

Within less than a year, my faith in ecclesiastical "authorities", religion and even god, were smashed into oblivion. I tried in vain to hold on to what shred of faith I thought I had left but I kept grasping at nothing. It was all an illusion. I no longer had any belief left in me. I had become.... AN APOSTATE! It's not surprising as I had resisted much of the doctrine because it never made any sense to me. But the culture wouldn't allow me to question any of it. Questioning was BAD, BAD, BAD, EVIL BAD! That scared me more than my internal evil bad gayness.

Ironically, I quickly discovered just how spiritually empowering apostasy was. And it was AWESOME!

Unfortunately, I had just added "Son of Perdition" to my ongoing list of evil doings. Not that I really cared anymore but, ecclesiastical "authorities" and their authoritarian followers perceive apostasy to be so serious it warrants active endorsement of some rather ignominious un-Christian actions -- just like the ones in the CADC article. All performed in the name of Christ of course.

Another moral dilemma! Not for me, for them. A dilemma that many of them will never realize they have. Oh, the bitter taste of irony.

It's a really surreal and frustrating feeling coming out to a "True Believing Mormon" (TBM). They go from respecting you as an equal human being, in the eyes of God, to suddenly thinking of you as a morally depraved, lower-class, sub-human with a mental illness who is no longer worthy of love, respect or even association.... in the eyes of God. But they will be quick to say to your face that they love you and that God loves you and that is why we have the Atonement. Really? The Atonement? It's as if being gay was a sin. Oh, wait.... I forgot, I have sinned because I no longer see it as a struggle. I've accepted it. I'm now "living in sin". Wow! Sin is such an incredibly misused word.

One TBM friend in particular was outwardly disgusted by the gay part. His way of expressing it was to make rude jokes in front of my co-workers or other people. His tone was sharply underscored with a high level of disdain. Many people noticed it and wondered what was up his ass. Incidentally, he is also the Elders Quorum president and the only other Mormon at the company. When he noticed that my church records were removed, he went out of his way to avoid me. Obviously not setting a good example of Mormonism but who am I to judge? I was such a horrible "example" I felt the need to resign.

Some other TBM friends expressed collective suspicion of my motives as a gay Mormon and some were even concerned that I was going to start demanding that the Mormon church perform gay temple marriages or "sealings". It was easily dispelled through a bit of common sense but it didn't do much to restore their opinion of me.

Right now, I'm giving them some time. I'm letting them see that after all of these years I have not molested their children, ruined their marriages, infected their families with my gay cooties or destroyed their faith in god. Although, I wouldn't mind destroying their faith in God and freeing their minds of the clutches of magical thinking; but alas, I don't have that power.

Thankfully, I don't have to associate with them. I prefer to spend my time around positive and affirming people rather than those who think they can live by the paradox of 'Love the sinner, hate the sin', or the even more insidious, 'we're not anti-gay, we're pro-family'.

As hard as it has been to get to this point in my life, I'm willing to cut them off at any moment if the vitriol becomes too nasty. But, for the most part, I really won't need to do that. Their religious culture will warrant it for me with such wonderfully un-Christian ideas like:

• Never associate with bad people.
• Bad people are enemies to the church which include, but not limited to: non-Mormons, drinkers, smokers, fornicators, intellectuals, feminists, gays, etc.
• Never empathize with, sympathize with or even tolerate the enemies.
• Never talk to the enemy unless you are calling them to repentance.
• When in doubt about how to recognize any of the above, consult the General Authorities.
• Ad nauseam
• Ad infinitum

Those lessons are absolutely the face of Christian hypocrisy. And, like I mentioned before, it's a moral dilemma that many of them will never recognize they have.

Some would say I'm the one being hypocritical. In a manner of perception I can understand that. After all, I'm spewing my own self-righteousness and pointing out other people's hypocrisy. And though I'm not really claiming any specific code of ethic, I am being condescending in my tone. But at least I'm talking responsibility for it.

Whereas the Christianists are "shouting from the rooftops" with much arrogance and certainty that Christ has given them absolute "truth". And that "truth" dictates that all must obey a specific, dogmatically narrow, philosophy or face terrible consequences. Those who reject their "truth" are looked down upon with fear, disdain and hatred. They say and believe they have tolerance, respect, and love for all people as their dogma dictates they should, but their words and actions say otherwise. After all, they believe they are only performing the will of God.

It really feels weird to say this but, I agree with the other fundamental evangelical Christianists out there who say Mormons are not Christians, although we differ as to why. Besides, it takes one to know one doesn't it? Yes it does. And it just so happens, by their standards, I'm not a Christian either.

Christ was trying to teach people to live without fear. Christianists are just trying to scare the hell out of people.

Mormon Faggots

I was in a little instant message chat with a gay friend one evening when he suddenly started ranting about his frustration with the Gay Scene. I was somewhat confused. I had no idea what he meant by that. What was this Gay Scene that was all worth getting frustrated over? He went on to tell me about the fucking, shallow, jerks who were spreading rumors about him on Craig's List of his sexual behaviors of "getting around the town". I assume that meant he was being accused of slutting it up. Well, he does live in a small rural community in the west, and I suppose the rarity of gays out there make them somewhat territorial. Hmmm, sounds like a catfight!

Anyway, it got me thinking. There was something bugging me about this gay guy referring to his cruising as if it were a special lifestyle, -- a special Gay Lifestyle. Was the Gay Scene or Gay Lifestyle only about cruising for sex? Why wasn't there a thing called the Straight Scene or Straight Lifestyle? There are a lot more straights cruising for sex than gays. What made it so special that it was given a name of its own? And why does he refer to it as the Gay Scene?

I don't really suppose that I'm going to actually answer these questions with any modicum of facts and figures. Honestly, it's all just a hodgepodge of personal opinion. But I'm going to ponder my experiences and see what happens as I explore this idea of the Gay Scene.

The only real visible sign of gay culture that some people think of as the Gay Scene appears to be the leftovers of a culture that is reminiscent of its heyday in the 70's and 80's, when sexual liberation had matured and being out and proud was the new thing. I saw brief glimpses of it on TV growing up, -- but only after we got cable. Let's see, what do I remember? Ah yes, fabulous gender-bending queens, lots of skinny tan guys with pink feather boas and cut-off blue jeans-- cut to with an inch of their life, -- and those hot, shirtless, muscly men in their sexy leather chaps. Ooo, I need to repeat that. Hot, shirtless, muscly men in their sexy leather chaps. Sigh.

Anyway, was all of that audacious flaunting in the streets of San Francisco waving rainbow colored flags the Gay Scene? No, I think that was just California, although it has since spread to other states. To me it always looked a lot like a Mardi Gras except with less alcohol, less nudity and a visual distinction that looked, well, gay.

Incidentally, what in the hell does gay look like when it comes to judging the person? I can pass for the straightest acting gay guy east or west of the Mississippi and yet I'm as gay as gay can get. On the Kinsey scale of human sexuality I'm a 7. But people insist that I don't look gay. And only the really perceptive guys, who are looking for it, or my mom, will see the signals, but only after a while. And since my gaydar is sorely underdeveloped, I have to make sure I'm in or near the Gay Scene to get anywhere. But I don't know what that is!

What I've seen in the gay world and what I've seen in the straight world looks the same to me.
What I see is that the terms Gay Scene or Gay Lifestyle are pejorative labels used by people who think gays are, to put it nicely, icky. And those gay folks who think of themselves as icky and don't realize the double standard in play, would be the ones who use it on themselves.

The non-gay acting straight folks don't use the word lifestyle to describe their scene obviously. But insist on using that word to describe the Gay Scene. Well, except for S&M. The term "The Lifestyle" or "The Scene" is commonly used which is fine. But then those religious, non-gay acting straights, or rather, Christian anti-gay activists, would never admit to the existence of S&M amongst the straights. They make great attempts to convince everyone that S&M is only an uber-perverted, gay thing. Heh! Sorry to burst your bubble there Christianists, but it's not perverted and it's not only a gay thing! I dare say that the only thing about S&M that can be called perverted is the fucked up version that permeates the everyday life of many Christianists. But that is a topic for another time.

As a matter of interest, S&M is the only real organized lifestyle or scene to emerge from that wonderful leather subculture of the gay community. Unfortunately it has, almost completely, been taken over by heterosexuals. And quite frankly it sickens me! Every time I go online to shop for S&M gear, I have to hold back my gag reflex as I'm being assaulted by blatant displays of heterosexual bondage! Eww! I really wish these straight people wouldn't go around flaunting their sexuality so much!

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the Gay Scene. No wait, not yet. I'm not done ranting about Christianist. Allow me to indulge myself with some reminiscing.

I came out late in life. It wasn't that I just decided to come out of the closet to tell the world, I wasn't able to accept I was gay until late in life. Yeah, it's a long, sordid and sadly pathetic story so I'll spare you all and not tell most of it. But it went like this:

I was immersed in a religious culture that prided itself on demonizing the world at large. And as one would expect, doing it without a clue as to what the world really was. Mostly blanket statements about Satan's influence and ushering in the end of the world. To them Satan was a powerful force lurking around every corner waiting to turn people into miserable tools for evil. And because we had the "one true gospel", the evildoers were jealous and hateful of our fortune. All they were intent on doing was persecuting and corrupting us poor happy Mormons to be miserable like them.

Now, this isn't really about the Mormons themselves. It's about my friend and me as Mormons! And it's not pretty. Like all good, psychotic, God fearing, Christian religions, everything revolves around the denunciation of sex. We were taught, in church, starting at the age of puberty, that masturbation was a form of sexual abuse that makes you gay. And the worst possible thing that could happen to you would be choosing to get sucked into a debasing, vile addiction such as homosexuality. Yeah, that's what we were taught! Homosexuality was a debasing, vile addiction caused by masturbation. And not only that but homosexuality was a sin almost as evil as murder. Actually, depending on whom you talked to and what mood they were in, it was worse than that. All sex outside of marriage was an evil sin as almost as bad as murder, but homosexual sex was as bad or worse than murder! LOL!

I can laugh at it now but it was serious shit back then. Total Fucking Serious Shit! And when the AIDS scare hit our little socially isolated world, that Total Fucking Serious Shit hit the proverbial Totally Badass, Gas Powered, Super Shit Spreading Fan! The times of Sodom and Gomorrah had come! Gay people were no longer just perverted, child molesting, homosexuals. They were now perverted, child molesting, homosexual, ass-fucking Sodomites! And they were here to destroy humanity with the new plague of the century, AIDS! Oh, and anal warts too. LOL!

Still, I laugh at it now but it was serious shit back then! Well, it's still serious shit today but I digress.

My response to such religious programming in relationship to my reluctant self-discovery as a teenager was to stuff it deep down in the back of my mind and forgot about it. The gay world, the straight world, even my personal S&M alone time was all off my gaydar, radar and dungeon play, for 20+ years.

I was well aware of the straight world because all my friends at the time where straight and I had no choice but to accept the overt flaunting of heterosexuality. It was all too disgusting for a repressed, straight, gay-guy like me to willingly or even successfully participate in. Thank God! Though I still donned my S&M fetish gear, I kept it to myself so it didn't count. No one else was involved so no one knew. Sadly, such repressive and split-level thinking was driving me to insanity and suicide.

But, for the most part, the gay world was something that happened out-of-sight in a city far, far away. Except when I saw those brief glimpses on cable TV. There were a few times in college I would hear about some poor fool who, hanging out at the local rest stop down the road from the university, was labeled a fag and beaten within an inch of his life. A few of my straight friends liked to brag about it. I was privileged, several times, to hear about what they liked to do with baseball bats and faggots. Welcome to Happy Valley, Utah, USA! Goddamn, Fuckers!

Anyway, back to my gay friend. His response to the same religious programming was to feel ashamed like me but instead he rebelled and acted out his sexuality. Granted, at the time he lived in a more urban climate void of small town rumor mills and threats of violence. He told me that he started his college carrier by diving right into the world of gay sexual voracity. Whereas I, denying anything gay, watched in shock as all of my straight friends dove into the straight world of sexual voracity. Ironically, I suffered great pangs of guilt because I didn't obey my religious programming and disassociate myself from such evil people.

So what, specifically, had he dived into? He told me about the bars to get hookups, strip clubs, one-night stands, orgies and glory holes in the backs of porn shops. Yeah, I'm sure there is gay slang for this crap but I don't give a shit. It's still the same no matter what it's called and none of it is exclusive to the gay world. I lived in the straight world for 25+ years where I was around straight people who went to bars for hookups, strip clubs, one-night stands, orgies and glory holes in the backs of porn shops too.

So what am I getting at here?

The so-called Gay Scene is really just a gay version of the Straight Scene. There is no difference. The sexual activities and mating habits are the same in both worlds. The cheating, backbiting and game playing are the same in both worlds. STDs are rampant in both worlds. Prostitution prevails in both worlds. Drug and alcohol abuse continues to kill people in both worlds. People fall in love and make commitments to each other in both worlds. They have kids in both worlds. They get divorced and fight for custody in both worlds. They believe in God, go to church and pay their tithes in both worlds. They don't believe in god, ignore, shun or despise religion in both worlds. Both the gay community and the straight community have their fair share of sexually repressed, promiscuous, perverted, child molesting, ass-fucking Sodomites. The only difference is, there are a hell of a lot more straight ones than gay ones. But that's just because of the nature of probability.

So, while I was playing a scared-straight, upstanding Mormon and hating my life, my friend, bless his little faggot heart, was playing a rebellious straight-act, upstanding Mormon and hating his life, but with the benefit of having a shit load of gay sex. Lucky him!

He still lives in shame as a rebellious straight-act, upstanding Mormon and hating his life. But now he is married to a psychotic woman, has four kids, goes to church and the temple, pays his tithing and hates his life even more. He never witnessed much of the straight world except for the fairytale Mormon version. Something to this effect: Grow up and go on a mission, pay my tithing, go to BYU, get married in the Temple, have 11 children, we all turn out perfect, we win our spot in the Celestial Kingdom a few doors down from God's house, and live there for ever and ever and ever and ever, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

His view of the gay world is essentially what his religious programming tells him it is. And, as with all "True Blue Mormons", or any Christian fundamentalist for that mater, he compartmentalizes his beliefs. For him, having a firm belief in the church doesn't conflict with getting some hot man-booty on the side and then teaching in Sunday school about the evil homosexuals. I guess I should cut him some slack. After all, I was a "True Blue Mormon" once. Thankfully I figured it out and got the hell out. I'm sure he'll come around sometime too. At least I hope he will. His sanity is at stake.