Depression...of a sorts

            Well, I figured that as long as I’m doing a blog talking about some of my experiences, I might as well get to some of the meat of being gay and Mormon; how’s it affected me. Well, that certainly is a very broad subject, but I figure I can break it down into some of the more basic sections, the main being psychologically.

           

            First however, I’ve got to do a bit of background. So I’m a sophomore her down at BYU, and last year, as a freshman, was when the issue really began to come to head. Throughout my entire teenage life, I think I’ve known, deep down. I mean honestly, I would get no physical reaction when seeing a women who were supposed to be hot, while having the opposite reaction with men. But anyway, I digress. So right after my freshman year at college ended, I went home where my parents started to pressure me to put in my mission papers, as I was going to turn 19 in a few short months. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t know why, I just knew that I did not want to go on a mission. So I gave them lame excuses, just delaying things, while inside, I wanted to figure everything out. What were these emotions and thoughts that I was having? I kept on denying the fact that these feelings were real. I mean, who would honestly want to have these attractions, seeing as people tend to be shunned from society, especially in the Mormon universe. About a month after I’d come home, I was one the computer, and suddenly, I decided to just search on the internet “gay and Mormon.” I don’t really know why I did that search. It really hadn’t come to surface yet. But this pretty much forced it to the surface. I read, and read and read all these different stories about other gay Mormons and ex Mormons. Eventually, I came to realize that that person was me. That I was gay. And I despised myself.

           

            Depression. Probably fairly typical for gay people in general, but even more so for us raised Mormon. For those of you who have experienced depression, you know that it isn’t some mere passing sadness. The glimmer of life is gone and suicide becomes a very real option. To say the least, this last summer was hell. I didn’t have professional help, and I went through it all alone. I would not recommend this to anyone. Eventually I came to terms to who I was, essentially fully coming out to myself, towards the end of the summer, and then, off to BYU where if anything, the pain will come back.