Another Day

Mom,

Our conversation on Tuesday left me feeling frustrated. I don't know what happened to the woman that was willing to discuss more openly about my "temptations" and my perceptions of the Gospel, but I would like for her to return. I want to be able to have an open and honest conversation with you. After all, I feel as though I should be able to come to you for advice and to be able to share what is going on in my life. Why is this so difficult for you and I to talk about? Perhaps I did something that shifted your openness to talk with me. Perhaps I have offended you in some way that I didn't realize. Perhaps it has nothing to do with me.

I'll confess that I feel like I don't know what to do next in regards to preparing you for what's going to take place in my life after graduation. But perhaps I was wrong in thinking I needed to prepare you. Maybe I should just let you face all that's gonna happen without my trying to soften the blow. Perhaps I was being selfish trying to talk to you about these things in advance. If so, then my deepest of apologies for doing that to you.

I feel as though I must surrender my desire to ease the shock that is likely to happen in the months that are rapidly approaching. I feel as though I've done all I can to help you but you are not interested in it. Please note that this letter has been written with heavy sighs and with a feeling of helplessness. I can only hope that somehow something will change in the time to come that will leave you more willing to talk to me. But I fear that pride, disapproval, confusion, or hurt will somehow turn you away from me. I know you said you loved me, and I love you in return, but I fear that you will still turn away from me and I must admit that that saddens me so much. But what more can I do? 

I won't do so in this letter, but I do want to respond in detail to your arguments and claims in our conversation the other day. For now, know always I love you very much and think fondly on you.


Your Son,
Heartbroken

Soul Mate

My Soul Mate,

I love you.

I would end this letter there for that one statement accurately describes how I feel about you. You are the only one I have ever been happy doing nothing and everything together with. From the moment I first met you, I have never forgotten just how happy you make me feel.

You are beautiful in such a way that I can only describe as flawless. It shows in the way you smile, the way you walk and talk, dance and sing, cry and laugh. I just want to hug you whenever I see you! My Soul Mate, you are intelligent and wise, kind and caring, selfless and loving.

What can I say further about you? I do not love you because I think you are perfect for I know you're not. I love you because you are flawed and do not hide it. I love you for being unabashedly you. And had I the power to make it so, I would surrender everything just to have a chance at being with you. I would happily live my life with you.

Last night, I learned something I never really consciously understood. I know you without having to ask questions. I know you as if you were me. Though we are not the same and there are certainly many mysteries, I feel as though I have known you forever. I feel as though you complete me in such a way that no one has ever managed to.

Where you walk, let me come with. Where you stop to take in the sights around you, let me join. But most of all, when you wed, allow me to be present to meet the man you marry. Let me see who it is that captures your heart at last in such a way that I could not.

I will love you always and no amount of years will ever change that. You are my soul mate, I feel.

With Love,
Me

What Matters Part 2

Mr. Hunter,

I am tired of being beaten down by this place. I'm tired of this spirit-crushing climate where with a smile they offer in one extended hand joy beyond comprehension in the form of eternal families and living with God again, in with the other strike me down so viciously for wanting to do exactly what I've been told to do: form a family. I'm tired of being told that serving others is somehow equivalent to the peace, security, and joy found in a companion that you've spent decades with side by side in tragedy and wonder. I'm tired of feeling like I am somehow subhuman to all those around me. That I have some kind of disease, temptation, or evil spirit placed there by biology, culture, choice, God, or the Devil.

Enough!

No more with this word play that leaves me gasping for breath and struggling to hold back the tears. I will not yield one more piece of my heart to them so that they can feast upon my pain, sorrow, and desire to be human! I have reached the end of my complacency while watching the placid smiles on the faces of those that express belief in a loving God that is at best distant and at worst cruel beyond imagination.

My heart has bled enough from this. I have shed too many tears and have allowed too many times of panic clutching at my chest and stomach until I want to drop to my knees in surrender. How can such an institution that claims to be the Ultimate Good cause so much sorrow and pain? When I think back on my own pain I want to take my fist and break through the wall. I don't want to beat my fists against solid wall anymore. I want to obliterate that wall.

I have seen too many friends twist and turn as they attempt to find themselves. Standing at crossroads with a weariness so apparent in how they stand, shoulders barely held up, and eyes downcast. I have stood by the side of friends that have begged for life to not extend beyond this moment. I have heard the words of fear, seen bodies contorted to meet the needs of people that barely acknowledge the twisted state of my friends' souls. I have steadied trembling limbs, brushed away tears of pain, and kissed back pain. I have done all of this without any complaint and without question will do it again a million times over. But come daylight or the bell ringing or the hours passing they bury their pain and put on a face to hide their torn souls from the world.

I want to scream until my voice is hoarse, Mr. Hunter. I want to rage and shake the very pillars of the earth. I want to just flex this rage within and strike vengeance at someone...something...

But how will that heal broken hearts? How will that bring my friends (and I) to understand we are not evil, wrong, or abandoned? How will any of my anger soothe painful wounds inflicted by careless or deliberate words? How would my anger help?

So here I am, Mr. Hunter, fists raised and ready to fight but shoulders slumped under the knowledge that it would make no difference. I lower them knowing I possess not the power to make things right. It's times like these I wish the God of Justice, spoken of in Christian and Mormon scripture, were real. But that God hates my brothers and I. We are a scourge down through the ages. We have no place with that God. He would never give us justice...or mercy.

What do I do now, Mr. Hunter? I just want to be done with everything in this place and leave and never return.

Your brother

What Matters Part 1

Mr. Hunter,

I apologize for using a name I gave you in high school but it is necessary to do so at this time. I choose to write to you out of a need to put to words what I normally cannot say. Perhaps as I do so, I can begin to dissolve the bitterness that's inside of me these past few weeks. I cannot seem to channel it. So I write these words to you in the hopes that you can answer the questions that I have, lying hidden between the lines.

Hypocrite. The very word knifes through my soul with a heat that I cannot seem to cool. I see the word etched into my face and hear the word thundering in my ears whenever I step foot on campus or walk among these Mormons. It is a sensation that I cannot seem to shake. I am bothered by what I see around me as well as inside of me.

Mr. Hunter, you have experienced so much more than me and have developed a cynicism towards the world for a good reason. Lend me some of that now, please. How can a person profess belief in a God that teaches that stealing is immoral and even numbers its among the 10 Commandments, hallowed rules that have stood for centuries, but proceed to take movies - the hard work of another - without paying and feel no guilt? How can that very same person turn to me and tell me that my disbelief in God is misguided? How can a person express a belief in the LDS faith but ignore rules and commandments concerning the consumption of alcohol or the wearing of garments? How can a person profess love for his spouse and then with premeditation cheat on them? I just don't understand it. I know that I am no where near perfect.

The other day, a friend so dear to me spoke in jest and lashed out words of such a cutting nature concerning my heart that I could not help but lower my defenses and accept the piercing remark. It was an insight into how he viewed me, a hypocrite, and at once I realized the vulnerability of my heart. What I saw made me want to get up, apologize, and walk away. I feel like a stranger sometimes and feel as though I do more harm than good to others. To him, I write this, I apologize for being a hypocrite in the past and promise to do all in my power to avoid such a classification now.

This is a letter that wearies my very soul as it is a confession of the darkness within and the darkness I see around me. There are times that I hate this place, Mr. Hunter. I hate it with so great a passion that it breaks me heart with sorrow. I see beneath the facade of blank and vapid shallowness too many lives living hypocrisies or depression or emptiness. I feel like this place attempts to turn me into a dog; some pathetic creature meant to scrounge around in the rubbish and filth in search of meaning and purpose. I feel as though I am encouraged to abandon my values, morals, hopes, and dreams and accept a mantle that would crush me into oblivion, dehumanize me without the slightest acknowledgment of the crime against me that doing so would be.

I have met some out there with deep and purposeful believing that are nearly devoid of hypocrisy but those that I have met have been naive. In this last remark I must bluntly state that the poster child of this concept forever remains to my Nemesis.

Mr. Hunter, I plead with you to help me understand what I am seeing. Show me not goodness, I do not need my eyes veiled again. Show me naked reality.

Your brother

P.S. Give your wife my love as well as your two cats. I hope to see you during the holidays. Enjoy NYC for me, even if just a little.

Goodbyes and Realizations

Arch Nemesis,

I have come to the realization that I am using you as a cover for my real Arch Nemesis (though you come close, putrid creature of darkness). That Arch Nemesis is my own self or the antithesis of me. So, Arch Nemesis, I hereby strip you of your title and relegate you to merely Nemesis. My Arch Nemesis, the place where darkness reigns coldly and certainly shall be where I direct much of my letters now. But fear not, Nemesis, I will still cut through your lies and bumbling oddities.

May You See Reason Someday,
Mr. Sanity

The Request

Dear Wild Runner,

I do not hate you and never could. There is a grace and beauty to you that is so rare. Beneath that chameleon-like surface where toughness and gentleness dance in such a strange duet, I see a soul so restless and anxious to rise beyond what is going on around you but unable to do so due to the circumstances currently going on in your life. I have heard in your voice that yearning for more than just what you have. If I possessed the power, I would unshackle you and set you free to fly beyond this claustrophobic place.

But, Wild Runner, I cannot do so. Instead I am required to watch you make your choices and actions in life and see what consequences do follow. So it is always my hope that happiness, joy, wisdom, peace, and fulfillment are what follow you even if after time. Some day the pain will end, as I do hope it does. Some day you will have answers to some of your questions, as I also do hope. Such tragedy that now exists within your heart, played out upon the stage of Life, is truly a comedy in the making that will bring tears of relief and joy...someday.

When I watch you stand side by side him, I cannot help but feel the measure of your strength. You are at your greatest when you are with others. It is felt in the warmth you possess and that instinctual ability to help others. I feel it so easily like that of a gentle rain that warms the earth and brings laughter and delight from all those that pause to take notice of such a blessing. Your smile, singing, laughter, and even shouts always elicit a smile in return from me.

From the moment I first met you, I could sense the fragility of your soul as it fought to become whole and complete, certain and sure amidst the chaos and uncertainty of this life. I felt it in your words, deeds, and concern for those around you.

Where will you wander as the days go by? Where will you run to when you can no longer escape the pains of life? Yes, I see so much more pain in the days to come. You seek escape from the very events that make us strong and sure in this life. Run no more from it, Wild Runner. Cannot you harness your many great and varied abilities into overcoming the stresses in your life?

I love you, pure and simple. I feel I have caught a glimpse of your heart and have seen so much goodness and gentleness within you. I cannot help but confess a fear of that goodness and gentleness being snuffed out by the natural progression of life and its indifference to all that walks its paths. Hold on to what makes you beautiful. I beg you to do so and do so quickly. If I were to somehow lose you, it would fracture this poor heart of mine for a long time to come, if not indefinitely. Yet I do not ask for you to do so out of some selfish need to make me rest easy. I ask because I can guess at how of a blessing you be in the lives of all those you come in contact with.

For how could you not be a blessing to the people around you? Thank you for entering into my life only a short number of months ago when winter yielded to spring. Thank you for undoing the knot of tension that existed within my heart and gave release to so much of my own pain. Let us share a friendship beyond these days of spring and summer and far beyond into the dark seasons ahead and beyond them to for many, many cycles to come that make up Life.

Love,
Your Friend

Words From the Heart

Dear Sister C,

I congratulate you on the wedding of your daughter and wish them the the brightest of marriages: full of hope, much joy and laughter, and deep and thought-provoking moments in life! I can only hope for a long and happy life for the two of them and I only hope for a long and happy life for you, your husband, and your children and their spouses.

It is evident in your very words and actions the depth of your love for God and the LDS Church. In every word that you put forth and in deed, I can see and hear the measure of your faith and the desire to do what you feel is right. The warmth of that belief and your love for me as one of your missionaries is so clear. I thank you for that, Sister C, and express my love to you in return. You are a wonderful, wonderful woman.

My words last night must have been disappointing for you. I do believe you are right to say that you saw it coming. It is truly only a matter of time before I leave the Church. It is also quite likely that nothing will stop this decision now despite the fact that at least a year stands between me and that choice. I cannot provide words to soothe that disappointment or soften the small shock that you might be feeling concerning my departure from the organization that you love and found salvation in.

You knew me best as a missionary. You listened to my companion and I talk about people we were teaching, of baptisms, of Confirmations, and of new people we had met. I cannot help but wonder if it would have been best to have never kept up communication with you so that in some way your memory of me would have been preserved and remained unblemished from the taint of time and of reality. But it is too late to retroactively fix what has occurred and I certainly have no intention of submitting to what you think is right for me.

I love you most sincerely and still think of you as my "Mission Mom." But I am no longer a missionary and to a certain extent, no longer a child. What I am, I am not so certain of for I do no feel as though I can claim I am a man. One day I may at last find out what I am but that will only be after the test of time.

I know not if there is a God and cannot with even the slightest amount of hope express that I believe there is, nor do I wish to. The burden of pain and anger have negated such desire to do so. I did not express this situation with you because I felt that you were already having to deal with one reality (me leaving the Church) and didn't need to be thrown into the deep end just yet. I share it now so that my response to your comments will make sense to some extent.

Right and wrong. Good and evil. These are concepts that are not universal in application. Not all societies view the same things as evil and good or right and wrong. Not all individuals share the same values as you or I or our neighbors or even citizens of nations half a world away. I have never found any reason to find homosexuality to be morally wrong or evil. Look at me, Sister C, and tell me that I am evil for wanting to have a relationship with a man. For hoping to share a life with another man, raise children with another man, go on vacations with him, suffer his quirks and bouts of anger and frustration, take care of him when he is sick and be taken care of when I am sick, and to share private moments where only we know what the other is thinking at that moment. I ask you simply how that is evil? Demonstrate this for me, please.

Your concept and view of homosexuality as being evil is, in my view, limited and stripped of humanity. You view this "challenge" as something that must be mastered and controlled. I ask you this: can love be mastered and controlled? I submit that there are ways to temporarily divert the flow of such interest and caring but ultimately it cannot be controlled. To attempt to do so is to weaken the human spirit, crush feeling altogether, and empty the mind of anything profound or useful. Family is the most basic unit in society. Why? Because such units, when properly existing, are knit in love and support amidst differences and similarities. Men and women were never meant to be solitary creatures.

Let us put aside the fact that I do not believe in any God or gods or Goddess or goddesses for the moment and pretend that I do believe. It is my view that if God wishes to seek me out and feels that I am someone He wants, then he will do so and there is nothing that I can do to force his hand to do so. I can only act in this life as I think right and good. I cannot consciously decide to do what I think is evil or wrong. Denying my very soul, as you would have me do, is morally evil to me. So it is my opinion that I will let God, if he be there, inform me if I am wrong in my decision. Until such time, I will work to make my life and the lives of those around me better through work, service, friendship, and love.

Lastly, I wish to bring up your point on "happiness." Yes, you are correct that I am choosing to be happy and to seek after happiness. Is it not written that I have an inalienable right in the "pursuit of happiness"? Does not the vast majority of humanity try to do so? Those that join the Church, do they not do so out of a feeling of joy and of believing that it is right? Once those feelings occur within, does it not then fill them with happiness and that ultimately drives them forward? Was it not the prophet Lehi that stated to his son Jacob that "men are, that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25)? For the purposes of this letter, I view the happiness that I speak of as joy and define this kind of happiness as that which weathers the storms of pain, stress, frustration, and loss and still remains there. I am happy! I have felt over the past year and half a joy and happiness that I have never felt before. It fills me up inside until I cannot help but shout out with all the energy inside of me and desire to share this happiness with others. I am smiling so much and I feel at peace. I am not at war with myself and have come to love and accept me for who I am and not what any institution or individual says that I am. You expressed that I am choosing my "happiness" and implied that it would be empty and hollow, replaced by misery and despair someday. I can only respond in one way to this: I will take that chance. If this happiness that I described previously is actually a hollow and shallow happiness and the "happiness" that I felt before (that of sorrow, suicidal thoughts, seeking escape through self-mutilation, loneliness, heartache, and longing) is true happiness, then I will take this empty and hollow one.

As stated before, I love you very dearly, Sister C. You shall always be to me my "Mission Mom." I shall always have fond memories of the fun times we missionaries had with your family on Preparation Day and when we celebrated our birthdays at your place. Thank you for your kindness and may it provide you with the joy that you seek and the testimony that you desire to have.

Sincerely,
Formerly Elder _____

A Return to the Past

Dear Mom,

Suicide.

That word conjures up memories staggering in pain and bitterness. This is a subject, Mom, that I realize will be difficult considering your history and the history of our family. Bear with me as you read this. It is of vital importance that you do so. 

I love you, as I have shared in the past, and nothing will ever change that. But what has changed is what I now believe to be right. My commitment to truth, courage, and love all remains the same. But what happened nearly a year and a half ago was something that could not have been foreseen. You could not have prevented it, so if you have any feelings of guilt, shed them now. The time had long before arrived when I had to take responsibility for my own actions, safety, and future. Though I shirked that responsibility, it was still mine and mine alone to bare. Understand that, please.

Back then, I was slowly succumbing to death in body, mind, and spirit. Everything that you knew about me was slowly fading, disappearing into nothing. I wish to share with you the entry that I had in a blog back then that captures how I felt. Please read and understand that things had truly gone wrong in my life at that point and everything that followed after (even now) are all attempts to change myself for the better.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

The Thoughts of a Fool

I wish I wasn't writing this but I feel I must. I think it's high time I discuss some of the other issues that I struggle with. I call it sorrow because I haven't been diagnosed with depression or anything (just General Anxiety Disorder). When I was a sophomore/junior in high school, I unfortunately began to perform self-mutilation on myself. I didn't use a razor or a knife (thought about it) but used a pencil because it was discreet. My parents never found out about it and I eventually managed to overcome my need for it by finding healthier ways to work through my problems.

It appears I haven't learned my lesson.

Unfortunately, after 5-6 years I have cut myself again. As I sit on the computer there are four angry red slashes across my right forearm. I cried and I cried today feeling like an utter failure (these feelings have not passed). It frightens me to the point that I don't know what to do. I feel utterly and completely lost and I feel like no one even notices.

It seems like unless I make a sound I am forgotten and not even needed. But enough on that. Unfortunately, there is something else that haunts me now. Over the past six-seven months, the usual suicide thoughts that came about once or twice every few months (or even a year) have become more frequent to the point of occurring several times a week. I feel emotionally taxed already alongside a bad ability to handle stress, worn out from constant school work and just working to find ways to solve my financial situation. I believe that the suicide thoughts are still at the stage of harmless but are alarming nonetheless.

I don't know what to do. I need help. But it feels like everything in my life is just falling apart...and I can't seem to stop it. I'm terrified that if this isn't crisis mode yet that I won't be able to handle crisis mode.

I apologize for these remarks. I feel like such an utter failure.

 I am glad that I have changed. I do not regret any of my decisions since then. I have thought through a lot and have come to accept and love who I am. But, I am not finished with this letter. I have a poem to share from October of 2008 that captured how I felt during my first breakdown that lasted for two weeks. You didn't want to understand what it was about when I first shared it with you. Maybe in light of the blog post, you'll be more willing to accept that I was falling apart?

Upon the Ground

Sometimes things break,
Shatter,
Fall apart.
Single unity once displayed
Becomes several parts of a whole,
Equal,
Separate,
Same.
The loss of the singular
Can devastate the holder,
Weeping,
Sobbing,
Clinging to the broken pieces
Like a child to a broken favorite toy;
Wishing for an impossible dream, and
Unable to stop reality
In its cold,
Merciless,
Uncaring walk over such shattered dreams.

Where is the answer that undoes reality, and
Brings back the fragile,
Frail,
Malleable,
Temporal elements that once gave form to
All hopes and dreams?
Perhaps the many can pull together and be
One,
Whole,
Singular again.

Like light fragmented,
Splintered,
Scattered by a prism,
But continuously the same,
Eternally,
Unendingly,
Unfailingly one in its purpose and
Course:
So too can broken things be healed,
Reunited,
Salvaged.

Temporal things are like fractured light:
Scattered for a moment,
Yet eternally one.
Weep not over loss,
Sorrow,
Pain, for they are scattered.
But in time, unending time,
Unity is to be not denied
Its domain.

Cry no more and gather,
Collect,
Reunite those broken pieces.
They cannot deny their
Eternal design,
Calling,
Purpose.

 Please, I'm begging you with all the energy in my body, understand what I'm trying to say here. I am not some selfish, sexual creature that cares only about what his hormones tell him. I am human, with thoughts and feelings. More importantly, I am your son and not some stranger. Read these words and feel the force of my emotions. This is not some game. It's life and I am doing what I think is right. All the sterile debates in the halls of academia and theology cannot measure up to the totality of experience, feeling, and thought in one person's life. See me for who I am and not what you want me to be.


I love you always,
Your son