Sunday, September 20, 2009
Elder Hafen's Evergreen Talk
So I decided to go to the Elder Hafen's speech cause it was free and i had no plans. Glad I did, it was uplifting, and really helped with a good perspective on the trials. Kinda wish I'd planned for the whole conference. Next year I probably will. I linked to the full text of his remarks.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Getting this out
Maybe if I start putting some of my frustrations on here, they won't stay with me so much.
So I've a bunch of brothers, we all get along really well. In fact, my youngest two bros and I have been doing lotsa man stuff, and it really feels good. Has helped me in the whole "not feeling like a man department".
Anyways Bro number 4 out of 5, and I talk about relationships. He is on a personal mission to get me married. Not the favorite thing to talk about, but oh well. He has a girlfriend, and they've been having a little fight lately. I've been trying to see why so I can help out.
He didn't want to tell me.
Finally a couple days ago, he told me. She's mad at him, cause he said he hates gays and she is more compassionate toward them. Of course he doesn't know about me, and I don't self identify as gay, but the venom he attached to his words was tangible. I tried to help him get a better perspective the best i could without revealing anything about me. But it really hurt. I don't make friends all that easily and my youngest two bros are probably my best friends.
Luckily it things take a long time to sink in, so it wasn't for a few days that it hit me. It came to the surface during one of my depressive bouts, and it sucked; it stung; it tore me up inside.
I'm sure we'll still be friends, but this really hurt.
Just wanted to get this all out. I think I feel better just by having written it down.
So I've a bunch of brothers, we all get along really well. In fact, my youngest two bros and I have been doing lotsa man stuff, and it really feels good. Has helped me in the whole "not feeling like a man department".
Anyways Bro number 4 out of 5, and I talk about relationships. He is on a personal mission to get me married. Not the favorite thing to talk about, but oh well. He has a girlfriend, and they've been having a little fight lately. I've been trying to see why so I can help out.
He didn't want to tell me.
Finally a couple days ago, he told me. She's mad at him, cause he said he hates gays and she is more compassionate toward them. Of course he doesn't know about me, and I don't self identify as gay, but the venom he attached to his words was tangible. I tried to help him get a better perspective the best i could without revealing anything about me. But it really hurt. I don't make friends all that easily and my youngest two bros are probably my best friends.
Luckily it things take a long time to sink in, so it wasn't for a few days that it hit me. It came to the surface during one of my depressive bouts, and it sucked; it stung; it tore me up inside.
I'm sure we'll still be friends, but this really hurt.
Just wanted to get this all out. I think I feel better just by having written it down.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Really Depressing Post
(this is fiction)
I always wanted cancer. Yearned for it actually. Cancer seems so logical. So predictable. The process for dealing with cancer is straight forward. You go to the doctor; he tells you you’ve got cancer, tells you the odds for survival, then he recommends a treatment. You do the treatment, and you live or you die, win or lose. So orderly, it just makes sense. That is how I like my trials, Cause-effect.
Its not just the cancer patients that know how deal with cancer. The friends and associates usually know what to do. Friends and family feel grief. The close family members will spend weeks, months, or years at your side. You’ll be in the hospital, and Mother will come, brightening up the room with her cheery attitude. Of course she’ll also cry. You’ll see the pain in her eyes and feel the acid in her tears. She’ll weep over all your lost possibilities. Because as a mother, everything she’s done has been for you. Father, will probably be withdrawn at first, after all emotions are never easy for men, but he will come. You’ll make small talk, about the football season, or some new project, maybe even the latest episode of “Lost” or “24.” Brothers will come, bringing the bond forged over years of stupidity together. Sister will come, and probably behave a lot like mother. Women are masters at feeling others pain. Friends will come. They’ll do something to show their support, shave their heads, when you lose their hair, wear buttons on their backpack, hold fund raising dances--something. The community will rally around your family. This horrible tragedy will spur them to action, because when a tragedy strikes, we like to do something—to fix it--and with cancer, we know what to do.
Being messed up in the head is an entirely different matter. How do you deal with it? How do you even know if you have a problem? Sure when you start yelling, calling yourself,”Stupid” or “idiot” you know something is wrong, but you can stop that, right. It’s your brain and you can tell it what to do. But you can’t. You can’t focus on anything; you start hurting yourself. Your mind swirls with poisonous thoughts, seeping into your soul with deadly potency.
You slowly lose your joy. Parents tell you to “buck up.” Friends will valiantly try to take you to your old haunts. When their efforts to cheer you up bear no fruit, they’re frustrated. They slowly creep out of the friendship. Even those who stay by you, don’t know you.
Fear comes to your parents face. They don’t understand this monster. You go to different shrinks, each one with a different diagnosis. You try to accept it, but when you’re alone, the voices howl.
There is no easy way to deal with being messed up in the head. No predetermined way to deal with this tragedy. Because it is so foreign, people will withdraw. It will try to destroy you. You won’t know if you’ve beaten it until the end. How do you know if you won?
If something else kills you.
And that’s why I feel at peace, laying on this butcher paper. The Doctor just said those liberating words, “You have pancreatic cancer, less then a month to live.”
I close my eyes, put my head down, and smile.
(Writers Note: This is a short story I wrote for my writing class. I realize its very insensitive to cancer patients. I'm not claiming that cancer is not as bad as mental issues, but I was trying to feelings of a young man with mental issues he can't figure out. While I wasn't mentioning SGA, I did draw from my experiences for some of the feelings.)
I always wanted cancer. Yearned for it actually. Cancer seems so logical. So predictable. The process for dealing with cancer is straight forward. You go to the doctor; he tells you you’ve got cancer, tells you the odds for survival, then he recommends a treatment. You do the treatment, and you live or you die, win or lose. So orderly, it just makes sense. That is how I like my trials, Cause-effect.
Its not just the cancer patients that know how deal with cancer. The friends and associates usually know what to do. Friends and family feel grief. The close family members will spend weeks, months, or years at your side. You’ll be in the hospital, and Mother will come, brightening up the room with her cheery attitude. Of course she’ll also cry. You’ll see the pain in her eyes and feel the acid in her tears. She’ll weep over all your lost possibilities. Because as a mother, everything she’s done has been for you. Father, will probably be withdrawn at first, after all emotions are never easy for men, but he will come. You’ll make small talk, about the football season, or some new project, maybe even the latest episode of “Lost” or “24.” Brothers will come, bringing the bond forged over years of stupidity together. Sister will come, and probably behave a lot like mother. Women are masters at feeling others pain. Friends will come. They’ll do something to show their support, shave their heads, when you lose their hair, wear buttons on their backpack, hold fund raising dances--something. The community will rally around your family. This horrible tragedy will spur them to action, because when a tragedy strikes, we like to do something—to fix it--and with cancer, we know what to do.
Being messed up in the head is an entirely different matter. How do you deal with it? How do you even know if you have a problem? Sure when you start yelling, calling yourself,”Stupid” or “idiot” you know something is wrong, but you can stop that, right. It’s your brain and you can tell it what to do. But you can’t. You can’t focus on anything; you start hurting yourself. Your mind swirls with poisonous thoughts, seeping into your soul with deadly potency.
You slowly lose your joy. Parents tell you to “buck up.” Friends will valiantly try to take you to your old haunts. When their efforts to cheer you up bear no fruit, they’re frustrated. They slowly creep out of the friendship. Even those who stay by you, don’t know you.
Fear comes to your parents face. They don’t understand this monster. You go to different shrinks, each one with a different diagnosis. You try to accept it, but when you’re alone, the voices howl.
There is no easy way to deal with being messed up in the head. No predetermined way to deal with this tragedy. Because it is so foreign, people will withdraw. It will try to destroy you. You won’t know if you’ve beaten it until the end. How do you know if you won?
If something else kills you.
And that’s why I feel at peace, laying on this butcher paper. The Doctor just said those liberating words, “You have pancreatic cancer, less then a month to live.”
I close my eyes, put my head down, and smile.
(Writers Note: This is a short story I wrote for my writing class. I realize its very insensitive to cancer patients. I'm not claiming that cancer is not as bad as mental issues, but I was trying to feelings of a young man with mental issues he can't figure out. While I wasn't mentioning SGA, I did draw from my experiences for some of the feelings.)
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Matis Fireside--Sept
Just got back from the Sept. Matis fireside. And man was it good. It was great to see the Matises especially Sister Matis. to see her up and about was great, and as always the transmission of love during the hug was "most excellent." The way the Matises feel about all of us, gives me great strength.
The speaker was Brother Coombs. He works on the Perpetual Education Fund. He spoke about how the program works, and the good it is doing in 3rd world countries. Nice to see; my favorite part of the presentation was seeing President Hinckley give his speech on the PEF during the video he showed. It was good to see Brother Hinckley again.
A couple other notes from teh fireside. I thought it was interesting how some people who had ancestors come across the plains during the Perpetual Emigration Fund days, were still coming into SLC and paying for the loan their ancestors took out. Also the qualities they were looking for in the people they give the education loans to: worthy, ambitious, desire to improve, and needy.
Key to Zion, one heart, one mind, no poor among them. The PEF is helping the third world saints climb out of poverty. Its breaking the cycle of poverty.
The PEF never touches the corpus, or the amount that has been donated. All it touches is the interest, and the repaid loan money. Even with the economic downturn the PEF is able to make all the loans it sees need to, which BTW is about 40,000 in 2009.
Met some good people at the fireside. It was nice to see old friends again. I felt uplifted afterward, and I guess that's the goal.
The speaker was Brother Coombs. He works on the Perpetual Education Fund. He spoke about how the program works, and the good it is doing in 3rd world countries. Nice to see; my favorite part of the presentation was seeing President Hinckley give his speech on the PEF during the video he showed. It was good to see Brother Hinckley again.
A couple other notes from teh fireside. I thought it was interesting how some people who had ancestors come across the plains during the Perpetual Emigration Fund days, were still coming into SLC and paying for the loan their ancestors took out. Also the qualities they were looking for in the people they give the education loans to: worthy, ambitious, desire to improve, and needy.
Key to Zion, one heart, one mind, no poor among them. The PEF is helping the third world saints climb out of poverty. Its breaking the cycle of poverty.
The PEF never touches the corpus, or the amount that has been donated. All it touches is the interest, and the repaid loan money. Even with the economic downturn the PEF is able to make all the loans it sees need to, which BTW is about 40,000 in 2009.
Met some good people at the fireside. It was nice to see old friends again. I felt uplifted afterward, and I guess that's the goal.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Acting
I'm usually a pretty good actor. I've never been in plays or anything, but when I'm having a bad day I can turn on the cheery, positive outlook rather quickly. I'll go from midnight to noon day, on the outside atleast.
Well today my acting sucks. I just can't get up the positive energy. Everyone at work knows I'm having a crappy day. They're trying to help, and they are. The one thing about working at BYU, there is no shortage of good people willing to help you out.
And thats good, cause things have been really bad the last few days. I don't even know why. A week ago I was pumped, things were going good. Now the storm has come. I've been wondering if the fight is really worth it.
I went to Idaho this weekend. The old homestead. I love going home, cause I can leave all this crap behind. But this time it followed me. I couldn't shake it. Saw an old friend from high school that I hadn't seen in years, but that didn't exactly help.
It sucks, the wall is breaking down, and I'm not sure I care.
But its good to know the people I work with do. That might be enough for now.
Well today my acting sucks. I just can't get up the positive energy. Everyone at work knows I'm having a crappy day. They're trying to help, and they are. The one thing about working at BYU, there is no shortage of good people willing to help you out.
And thats good, cause things have been really bad the last few days. I don't even know why. A week ago I was pumped, things were going good. Now the storm has come. I've been wondering if the fight is really worth it.
I went to Idaho this weekend. The old homestead. I love going home, cause I can leave all this crap behind. But this time it followed me. I couldn't shake it. Saw an old friend from high school that I hadn't seen in years, but that didn't exactly help.
It sucks, the wall is breaking down, and I'm not sure I care.
But its good to know the people I work with do. That might be enough for now.
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