Posts tagged lds
Posts tagged lds
Finding out my enneagram type has helped me a lot. Knowing, for a certainty, that I suffer from Anxiety Depression and knowing that regular exercise helps me be present and less reactive has been an important tool for me for the past several months. I’ve been reading up more on anxiety depression lately, and the suicide rates are fairly significant as compared to typical depression. I want to emphasize that these feelings and blogging here isn’t a cry for attention, (I’ve always a wretched guilt associated with selfishness about exposing my suicidal thoughts in real life for fear of being seen as egocentric, put down as trivial or taken too seriously) but is moreover a documentation of my sanity and… I guess my desperation for a safe place to truly belong. My writing style has changed since I’ve stopped spiritually blogging and now it’s an emergency pitstop when I’m lonely, full of dread, anger and sadness. I feel bad that I’ve associated mostly with LDS blogging, but I hope that the nature of my tumblr doesn’t bring anyone else down. I would be grateful if it gave others the confidence and capacity to understand themselves and others.
This might be a panic attack, I don’t know. But I’m freaking out inside. I had to leave class before the anxiety got worse. I went to a bathroom to half-cry, knowing that people will still have to see me afterward so it can’t be an ugly cry. Now I’m in the library, with no place to go. I have another class in an hour and a half and I need to go. I want to be better.
I don’t know. It started with me thinking about my dad. My mom and my dad. And thinking about childhood memories. I tried to think of good things, but there aren’t many good things with my parents. And when there were good times, I found myself aching for them. Pining to go back to when my parents loved me those sometimes. And when I think more about it, I can never go back. I have to keep going forward with the scarce friends I have now. And then I think… “What is wrong with me? What is so wrong with me that not even my own parents wanted me?”
I live with 5 other roommates off-campus and we all commute to school. 1 is male, the rest are female.
00000 <— social fulfillment/ roommate tallies
On our third day having moved in, the male confessed his love for one of the other roomies. It was not returned and everyone in the house was/is disgusted that he placed himself in the shoes of a bachelor. The females have been avoiding him in fear that he will accept our kindness as an invitation to build falsely perceived romantic feelings. We pursue non-committal time with him that we’re comfortable with to keep things on an even keel.
_0000 - strike!
Two of the four other females in the house are practically conjoined at the hip. Where one goes, the other goes. Now to be specific: One is hero, one is sidekick. Sidekick… pardon my exaggeration… is an empty reflective shell. She wears a mask of kindness, but has no intention of investing personal time in anyone besides hero. Therefore, she is not a social resource in the house for anyone else. BUT - when hero has gone away, sidekick uses her trusty backup - backup.
Backup has an awesome boyfriend who befriends any and everyone. When they are together at the house, it draws everyone into the living room and it’s impossible not to feel united with the house. But when boyfriend has gone away, backup is constantly doting around on sidekick, either trying to work with hero or find a moment to steal moments with sidekick out from under hero’s nose. She is hardly a social resource unless (ironically) her boyfriend is around.
__u00 - halfsies
Two things I didn’t find out/admit about myself until now. (At twenty years old)
1) I have panic attacks.
2) I am genderqueer.
#1 occurs at church because of #2.
I am attracted to metrosexual men and (exclusively) androgynous women. I’ve never felt like I needed to admit this someplace before because I’ve never necessarily acted on any homosexual feelings. It’s always been a fact that I don’t associate well with ‘girly’ females, and… that I dress like a boy. I’ve wanted to, but won’t go as far as cutting my hair off. If there’s any alienation I could experience, I’ve never wanted to pile my gender association on top of my family problems, which is supposed to be the focal point of this blog. But I’m finding that a lot of my confusion and disinterest with marriage and dating (and many other things in mormon-culture) has been because I haven’t been able to find where my self-esteem lies in my gender. The mormon culture isn’t a part of the gospel, but the gender associations in church attire come with anxious baggage if resisted.
I have a stronger testimony than I might possibly have any homosexual feelings… if that makes sense. But my gender association is quite pungent and stands close to the intensity of my testimony.
It’s embarrassing to dress like a woman. It insults me when a friend recommends to me a jacket that is a little more low-cut and ‘flattering’ to my body. That’s not me. At least I’m not shopping in the boy’s section of walmart, I try to build a specific style. I… it’s embarrassing to try and defend myself because nobody understands, but I don’t feel like a girl on the inside. I’ve often said to my LGBT friends (my closest friends) that I’m a gay man inside a woman’s body.
I miss my dad.
Families are forever
Democratic mormons, don’t be shy!
He says that his workplace is purposely sending young girls across his path at places like the bank, the grocery store or even in restaurants so that they can build a false case against him as some kind of pedophile. Being my only contact with my family, my dad now keeps his phone turned off nearly 24/7 because it’s “so obvious“[ly] bugged.
He says that the guys in security at his workplace follow him everywhere. He doesn’t like to go out in public as often.
My friend says the stress of taking care of my ridiculously dependent and psychotic family, age, his heart attack and a lot of other things must be contibuting to this severe paranoia. Just when I thought my sister was 10x more than fine, she turns schizo. When I know my dad is okay because obviously, mental illness isn’t in his family line, this winds up happening.
I feel like Alice in Wonderland. To top it off, just before I left to come back to my College-Town, my brother winds up going to a psych ward for attempting to kidnap his own child, having beaten my little brother [who was babysitting] up in the process.
Me and my little brother, so far, are the only ones who appear sane in this large family. Little do they know that I’ve been extremely suicidal for half my life and I have no idea if it’s because I’m crazy too, or if my family situation/child neglect would genuinely be a devastating problem for any human being to deal with. I hate that mormon families have overwhelming amounts of children. If only they knew what choices like that can mean if responsibility slips period, or even at the slightest form of mental illness. There is nothing more painful than feeling alone and like the only freak in a room full of people.