Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Looking Back



So at work i found an old suicide note my email had saved a draft of. It was from May of last year. Really brought me back to last year, a time when i was lonely, depressed, and unsure if I would make it. I had been searching for any path that led to happiness. Trying different groups of people, straining for anything to find relief.


When i wrote this i wasn't sure i'd make it out of the funk i was in.  I didn't have an immediate plan, but i had a gun, so it didn't take much planning. 

Here it is

Whatever happens, it is my fault, my responsibility, not yours I'm so sorry. I am not ignorant of the pain this has caused you, and will probably cause you forever. And so i'm sorry. Please know, taht there is nothing you could have done. The inner turmoil i feel, really isn't resolvable. I don't claim that this is what God wants. He would want me to live. But i fail, at this and everything else. please know that no longer will i lie in bed shaking with self hatred. no more will the pressure of an uncertain future face me. I know my future know. I am so sorry. I love each and everyone of you. That is what has kept me alive for this long. I wish i could just dissappear so you would not have to deal with this.
I don't feel worthy to give advice, as one who has failed his trials on earth. But know i love you. So much, and if somehow God will permit me to see how your lives grow, i will watch, and find joy, in your lifes.
Your brother, son friend, and uncle.


So the last few months i have been going through a very similar depression.  It's been dark, painful, heavy, but i haven't let it be isolating.  

Last memorial day, i went to Journey into Manhood.  And while it is not a perfect program, it was a pivot point for me in my life.  I was on an emotional high for 4 weeks after, but i also learned to connect with people better.  I made great friends and from those friends i've made even more.  

Which brings me to the point of this post...

My now former therapist talked to me about not associating with other gay mormons.  He is not a fan of NorthStar,  or anything else.  I was in a funk wondering if maybe he and my parents were right.  That all these connections made me feel worse, focus too much on my SSA and were in general bad for me.

I was wondering if i needed to go back to not talking about it.  to not associating with others who deal ith it.  Wondering if that would make me happy.

Before i went to my most recent visit with him, i prayed to God to show if this path was good or not.  That night, i had the chance to come out to someone from my home town and give and get support.  I posted links to several coming out posts that helped people.  It was good enough for me to see the benefit of having a community of saints who know what i'm going through and can support me.

Tonight, with depression about as bad as it's been, i couldn't find anyone to hang out with.  I prayed to God to send someone.  A good friend, called, we had cookies and talked about stuff.  I am so grateful for it.  For him.

I guess the point of it all, is I still have crappy depression to deal with.  I still have hard times, but It is my associations with others that gives me strength and the will to move on.  Last May i didn't have people to lean on.  Now i do, and that makes the purgatory of depression, passable.  Thank you God.  Thank you Friends

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Close to home

Came out to red spud today. 

I posted a link from a gay mormon on my FB wall, the second time in a week.  And he chatted me on FB

Wanted to talk about it.  We did for a while.  pretty soon i came out to him.  So there is another hometown person who knows.   Was good. He wanted to know how to help others.  Thought iwas stable!  haha.

But it was good to be out.  he wanted to refer someone to me. someone from the hometown 

It is good. 

and it kinda answered the question on my mind.  Do i need to be less open about this.  is my openness a bad thing.

Therapist thought so.  I imagine parents think so.

But as i talked to spud, i remembered all the support i'd received from coming out.  How hard it was not to be out.  and how much i was grateful for north star and JiM and all the other support groups and just fine individuals i know.  

Being out has been good.  yeah i deal with depression, yeah i have hard times, but it's not because i've chosen to receive support from others.  the support has made life easier;

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

John and Jack

Consider if you will two very different high school experiences.


John lay on his bed.  Alone.  The twilight light seeping in the window cast a grey pall over the room.  The tension in his chest wanted to rip the sternum apart. 

Why!  Why.  Why do I feel this way.  Why.  I should be normal.  I should be happy.  I should have people I can call, that I can tell about this.  I don’t want to exist.  I don’t want to be here.  I hate it.  F--k it all.  I hate it.  It’s pointless.  I’ll text Shawn.  See how that goes.  Maybe he wants to do something.  Eff it. 

The room was dark, but full of  hidden excitement.  Any moment Jack would walk in the door.    Streamers adorned the ceiling waiting to be illuminated by the light as soon as Jack walked in the door.  Spencer stood by the stereo.  Ready to blast the music.  Katie, hid just out of sight in the study, ready to give him the best birthday kiss any boy had ever experienced.  Troy kept sneaking Doritos, the crunching chips the only noise in the living room. 

All told 14 people waited in the darkness.  Waited to give Jack the happiest birthday they could muster.  Any minute he’d be here.  Any minute the party would commence.

John didn’t cry.  He stared at the text screen.  Someone, anyone would want to hang out .   What was the point anyway?  Hang out for a few minutes.  A couple hours of fun, then back to loneliness.  Back to the room.  Back to the tempest in his mind. Whirling, beating violent thoughts into his soul.  What had he done to give place to his enemy in his head.  Why was it there.   Faggot, queer, F--king loser. It repeated over and over.  Food, friends, making out, all offered temporary reprieve.  But why, at what point.  Where was the meaning. 

Still no response. 

John threw the phone against the wall.  The screen might have cracked.  Oh well.  Fuck it all.

In the corner rested a gun.  A 12 gauge Mossberg.  How many times had John thought of it.  How many times had he wondered if it would provide peace.  He knew the place to put it.  His arms were just long enough to hold it in place. 

Any moment the party would start.  Three more had shown up unexpectedly, but they were welcome.  The dip was so tempting.  The cookies so exciting.  Troy, quietly worked on opening the Oreos.

A car drove up.

Silence.  The suspense was great.  All eyes on the door.  Waiting to love their friend.

But before the door opened, a strange noise came from upstairs.  A sudden noise.  Like a firecracker.

-----

John “Jack” Beckstrand.  18 died Friday night. 

Student Body President, Captain of the football team, brother, son, friend.  He was always happy.  Willing to crack a joke to lighten the mood.  He was An eagle scout,  and sometimes flirted with the Honor Roll. 

He was suddenly taken from us.  While we do not know why, we know he is in the loving embrace of the Savior.  Services will be at the Old Tabernacle Wednesday at noon.  In lue of flowers the family has asked that a donation be made to the United Way.