I've been talking quite a bit to people that struggle with depression. Depression in itself is too nebulous a word to accurately describe the variety of emotions that plague people that struggle with it. It's apathy, and a bit of loneliness, with a stagnant spiritual growth, and possibly a slightly skewed sense of worth.
It's something that's very hard for me to imagine. Sure, I've been down. I've gone through my own personal hell experiences, but I've never experienced the chemical depression. I've never had to go through that experience.
I don't understand it. I might be able to define it somewhat better than some, or quote people that define it better than I have, or perhaps provide an allegory to what it is, but until I experience it--if I ever do--the words are hollow to me. Because of the nature of words, those that have experienced it will understand the feelings attached, but I won't. I don't know what it's like.
And I don't know how to talk to people about it. I'm very good at talking to people and keeping conversations going--it's the extrovert in me--but it also hinges a lot on the person. Some people I can talk to for hours on end, and others we have conversations that last maybe 10 texts or less. If I want to prolong a conversation, I can prolong it for a very long time, but often times I don't extend the effort because I'm not sure they want to talk.
With those that suffer from depression, it's harder, because it's hard for me to gauge their mood. Are they happy? Are they passive? How do I tell, and is that a sign of something worse going on inside their mind?
Do I bring up how they feel? Do I ask if they're okay, or will they get annoyed if I ask?
I know a lot of that depends on the person but I'm feeling lost, which is a rather new feeling for me. For most of my life I've known what to do, for whatever reason. A knack for direction, or something of that sort. Probably more that the Lord's been guiding me. Regardless, I feel strange talking to people who struggle with this.
I want so desperately to help them realize their divine potential that I sometimes feel short with myself when they still seem lonely. And that makes me feel worse; it's depression, it's not their fault that they have a low opinion of themselves. I guess. I need to read up more on how depression works.
I just want to give them all a huge hug and tell them that it's okay. That it'll pass.
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Friday, September 21, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Life
Today was a great day. Until about 6:37, when my dad pulled up to my friend's party with a migraine and told us we had to go. So me and my obedient brother trotted off and left, to discover that both of our cars are basically broken down.
My family has been through a lot. Money issues, constant depression, stress at work, work drama, midwife drama. We've had our fair share, but I was always younger and figured somehow it'd still work out. Now I'm older, and a bit wiser. Families can go down the drain in a lot of different ways.
I know I need to get a job, but I'm terrified of doing so. It's an abstract terror, not something I can really face indirectly, which is my way.
How I work summed up in two lines: put it off until the consequences are small and then wait for it to pass and blame it on something else. I'm ashamed of it but it's who I am.
I dislike who I am but I'm supposed to love who I am. How do you love what you hate?
Not only that, but we're constantly told as a generation that we're "awesome", despite all the other emotional abuse that we're put through just by growing up, as if being regularly told that we're "awesome" is going to do much. It's AWESOME that you think I'm AWESOME, but we're all AWESOME. Awesomeness is the state of existence to me because I've heard that word so much. It means nothing to me. It means less than the word "noob" means to me. I'm awesome? That's good, give me some meat to it. WHY am I awesome? WHAT makes me awesome? What makes being in my presence so special? What is it about me that is so absolutely enthralling?
And why would that make me worthwhile?
Take a breath, hold it in, but in the end, I still won't win. Addiction is slavery to a temporary satisfaction. And what am I but an addict? I'll always be here, in this damn pit of hell, always stuck here with my own problems, never strong enough to face much of anything.
People call me strong because I never let them see me weak.
But it's okay. It'll pass.
My family has been through a lot. Money issues, constant depression, stress at work, work drama, midwife drama. We've had our fair share, but I was always younger and figured somehow it'd still work out. Now I'm older, and a bit wiser. Families can go down the drain in a lot of different ways.
I know I need to get a job, but I'm terrified of doing so. It's an abstract terror, not something I can really face indirectly, which is my way.
How I work summed up in two lines: put it off until the consequences are small and then wait for it to pass and blame it on something else. I'm ashamed of it but it's who I am.
I dislike who I am but I'm supposed to love who I am. How do you love what you hate?
Not only that, but we're constantly told as a generation that we're "awesome", despite all the other emotional abuse that we're put through just by growing up, as if being regularly told that we're "awesome" is going to do much. It's AWESOME that you think I'm AWESOME, but we're all AWESOME. Awesomeness is the state of existence to me because I've heard that word so much. It means nothing to me. It means less than the word "noob" means to me. I'm awesome? That's good, give me some meat to it. WHY am I awesome? WHAT makes me awesome? What makes being in my presence so special? What is it about me that is so absolutely enthralling?
And why would that make me worthwhile?
Take a breath, hold it in, but in the end, I still won't win. Addiction is slavery to a temporary satisfaction. And what am I but an addict? I'll always be here, in this damn pit of hell, always stuck here with my own problems, never strong enough to face much of anything.
People call me strong because I never let them see me weak.
But it's okay. It'll pass.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Life
People grow. Time keeps going. People change. Life continues on. People grow. Some people stay the same. People move on, or they get stuck. Life is a river, and it's sweeping my friends away. Those who I used to look forward to hanging out with are now becoming less, and fading. They're changing.
But so am I. I'm not that same person that they met all those years ago. They're not the same people that I met. We're all so different and we all have such different wants for life. They want college, or romance, or to grow up. I want to discover who I am, and write, and help people. They want much the same, and have different ways of going after that goal.
The question is, do I distance myself more or try and revive what I had with them?
Will I be able to, seeing how different we are now? Or am I just seeing a false image of who we all are in comparison to who we were when we all met?
Cameron's with-but-not-really-with Emma. Madi is with-but-not-really-with Colton. Kirsten, Glenn, and others are off to College. Josh has two jobs. Meanwhile I'm sitting at home like an ungrateful jerk because I'm so terrified of the idea of getting a job that it's slowly paralyzing me.
How do I live in a world this strange and fierce? In the books it says "do it anyway". I myself have given that advice to many people over the years. "It doesn't matter if you're afraid. Do it anyway."
Now I'm faced with that fear and I find myself wondering at many things. Fear, and the nature of it, at the center of all of it. I'm afraid, and fear doesn't take logic. It doesn't take rational thinking. It simply exists. It IS. And its existence can only be shut aside for a short time before it comes back.
But I suppose that's what courage really is, isn't it? Knowing that it'll come eventually and doing what has to be done, because it has to be done.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Ah.
Sometimes I wonder, legitly, if I have some sort of sociopath in me. I find it hard to care. About people, about things, about my life, about my Spiritual self. Maybe it's just apathy, but it's a hard-reigned apathy if so. Perhaps I'm so out of tune with who I am and with God that I've simply phased out of the human side of my nature and split into two different people.
On the one hand, you have the warrior. The priest. The scholar. The wise young man. The writer. The author.
On the other hand, you have the coward, the sick, the lustful, the dispassionate, the cold, and the strange.
They're at war, constantly, now. And I can't ever escape. There is no escape from self except in hard work, which is fleeting to pursue. This is why I want a longboard. The only other time I could escape from myself, aside from working, was when I rode a longboard that my friend Kade loaned me while we worked at a fireworks stand last summer.
Fortune favors the bold, but often times it abandons those that do not work for their own happiness. Depression is one thing, but I am not depressed. I'm apathetic, and there is a difference. You can still work hard while feeling apathy. It's much harder to work--or move--at all when you're depressed.
I am not being an example of the believer that I should be.
And I don't know if I can find the strength to ask for the strength to become that believer again.
On the one hand, you have the warrior. The priest. The scholar. The wise young man. The writer. The author.
On the other hand, you have the coward, the sick, the lustful, the dispassionate, the cold, and the strange.
They're at war, constantly, now. And I can't ever escape. There is no escape from self except in hard work, which is fleeting to pursue. This is why I want a longboard. The only other time I could escape from myself, aside from working, was when I rode a longboard that my friend Kade loaned me while we worked at a fireworks stand last summer.
Fortune favors the bold, but often times it abandons those that do not work for their own happiness. Depression is one thing, but I am not depressed. I'm apathetic, and there is a difference. You can still work hard while feeling apathy. It's much harder to work--or move--at all when you're depressed.
I am not being an example of the believer that I should be.
And I don't know if I can find the strength to ask for the strength to become that believer again.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Trek
I swear, I'm not sunburned.
I'm tired. And from more than just trek. But I'll post about that later.
First of all, it’s not a vacation. Trek is hard. That’s the point of Trek. To learn and to grow and to get sore, so that you have some small inkling of what it took for the original Pioneers to travel across the plains and get to Utah.
For those that have never gone, it’s basically where you dress up in “Pioneer” clothes (cotton shirt and pants, hat, etc) and pull a handcart along a trail. A handcart consists of a flat area with two large wheels (they were almost as tall as me) on either side, and a yoke in front where two people could stand at either side and pull the cart. Those that don’t pull the cart walk alongside or behind the carts.
We had 9 carts total, and we had around 41 people per company. Our ward made up 3 companies, and each company had 3 carts.
Josh and I pulled the cart by the yoke for our family and for another family, the Bradley’s.
As you probably figured out, Trek consists of a LOT of walking. They weren’t kidding when they made the primary song that goes “the pioneer children sang as they walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked.”
We had a “Women’s pull”, which is basically a small reenactment where the men have to go away (during the actual historical pioneer trek, they were called away on missions or to go to the US vs Mexico war) and the women and children had to pull the carts.
It was insanely difficult to stand by the side and watch them pull. They were going up a hill, and the men couldn’t step in and help until they gave a signal. The women were strong (which didn’t really surprise me) and made it all the way up, but once we were at the top I could tell that everyone was really tired.
That was all the first day. If there’s one thing that I took away from Trek, it’s that the human body has endurance and can take more than you think (in most cases).
The second day was a bit easier. More walking, nothing special really happened, except that we played games in a small meadow. I fell asleep through most of it in our crappy tent (the front didn’t close, and it had 2 large holes in it).
The last day (yesterday) was okay. We walked and finally reached base camp (we trail we went alongside was a loop) and were able to set up our tent and rest more.
Morgan had like 3 guys crushing on her, and during the 2nd day and the 3rd day they spent a lot of time talking to her and us during meals and breaks.
Last night we saw the “Mormon Miracle Pageant” which, to be totally honest, was hard to stay awake through. My head was pounding from allergies and I was sore and starting to get a little stiff in my arms and shoulders.
After the MMP we drove home. I fell asleep in the car but apparently we got lost and a family in the ward had to help us get back to camp. Josh, Jaxon, and I slept in the car (which was a horrible idea) because we thought it’d be better than sleeping in that dumb tent. It kind of worked out but in the end I think we might have been a bit better off sleeping in the tent.
And now I’m home, sunburned, tired, sore, exhausted, hungry, but happy.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Buggie
There's a young woman on tumblr that I've gotten to know reasonably well over the last year or so. Well enough that she stayed at my house, at least.
Please ignore how ridiculously young I look.
Anyway, on to my point.
She's coming back in July, and I'm looking forward to it. She's a bright young woman and she has a lot going for her, but lately she's been hitting some rough patches, and I don't know how to help her. I wish I knew, but ahh it's so difficult trying to figure out how I can talk to her.
I rarely have any difficulties in talking to people--especially girls--because I'm often extremely comfortable with who I am. Lately though, it's been getting harder, and I don't know why. It's puzzling and irritating, especially since Buggie is going to be staying with me and my family for a solid week.
Ah well.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
You
"You" refers to three individuals, actually. Three individuals in my life that have both given me a lot, and then we kind of fell apart.
I met you years ago, online. And we taught each other a lot, but we were both young. I was the immature one, and I still regret some of the things that I've said. I wish that I had the strength to really tell you what our friendship meant, but now I think it's too late. I could try and resurrect it with you, but you're getting ready to go to college. There wouldn't be a lot of point, in my eyes.
You're going on fine without me. I don't want to hold you back.
I still see you often, although not as often as I used to. Even less than I did seven months ago. Now you're with a really cool guy, and I hope for the best for you two, even though he'll probably be going on his mission in a year or two. Unlike me. I still think about you, but lately it's more or less in the back of my mind, just remembering funny things we said or did. I'm just grateful for having gotten to know you a little bit better.
And then there's you. You still raise a bunch of angry feelings inside me. I keep thinking that I'm "over" you, but there are so many things about you that rub off on me wrong. You lied to me. Not only to me, but to everyone we talked to. You lied to yourself, and you've buried what I know YOU KNEW to be TRUTH deep inside you so your squealing conscience--which you buried and have now killed off--would shut up and give you "peace". I still remember your middle name. I have a knack for remembering middle names, for some reason, and you, you annoying little smudge, are a stain on my memory. I can't say I hate you. But I definitely hate what you've become.
I met you years ago, online. And we taught each other a lot, but we were both young. I was the immature one, and I still regret some of the things that I've said. I wish that I had the strength to really tell you what our friendship meant, but now I think it's too late. I could try and resurrect it with you, but you're getting ready to go to college. There wouldn't be a lot of point, in my eyes.
You're going on fine without me. I don't want to hold you back.
I still see you often, although not as often as I used to. Even less than I did seven months ago. Now you're with a really cool guy, and I hope for the best for you two, even though he'll probably be going on his mission in a year or two. Unlike me. I still think about you, but lately it's more or less in the back of my mind, just remembering funny things we said or did. I'm just grateful for having gotten to know you a little bit better.
And then there's you. You still raise a bunch of angry feelings inside me. I keep thinking that I'm "over" you, but there are so many things about you that rub off on me wrong. You lied to me. Not only to me, but to everyone we talked to. You lied to yourself, and you've buried what I know YOU KNEW to be TRUTH deep inside you so your squealing conscience--which you buried and have now killed off--would shut up and give you "peace". I still remember your middle name. I have a knack for remembering middle names, for some reason, and you, you annoying little smudge, are a stain on my memory. I can't say I hate you. But I definitely hate what you've become.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Hard work
Today I worked for about 7 hours straight doing yardwork for people I didn't know. I did it with my friend Cameron, though, so that was one of the huge uplifters for me while I was working.
We arrived at the house and walked into the backyard, where a huge pile of dirt (6 feet tall, wider than a car is long) was sitting. The man (Mark) and his wife (either Shanelle or Danielle or something along those lines, we never really were sure) greeted us and told us to start shoveling the dirt into wheelbarrows to move up a small slope and onto their backyard, where we would rake it out flat and then put sod over it.
Long story short, we did all of that. Sod isn't that heavy, but it's cumbersome, and therefore is kind of annoying to handle. Once we raked and put the sod down (after they fertilized it), we cut the edges of the sod up and then called it a day.
When they were cutting the sod up, though, they took a 30 minute break. A different section of their backyard still needed more dirt, so while they were all relaxing, I was wheeling up a lot of dirt, and did so 6 or 7 times.
As such, my limbs are sore and my head still pounds slightly, but it was worth it.
We arrived at the house and walked into the backyard, where a huge pile of dirt (6 feet tall, wider than a car is long) was sitting. The man (Mark) and his wife (either Shanelle or Danielle or something along those lines, we never really were sure) greeted us and told us to start shoveling the dirt into wheelbarrows to move up a small slope and onto their backyard, where we would rake it out flat and then put sod over it.
Long story short, we did all of that. Sod isn't that heavy, but it's cumbersome, and therefore is kind of annoying to handle. Once we raked and put the sod down (after they fertilized it), we cut the edges of the sod up and then called it a day.
When they were cutting the sod up, though, they took a 30 minute break. A different section of their backyard still needed more dirt, so while they were all relaxing, I was wheeling up a lot of dirt, and did so 6 or 7 times.
As such, my limbs are sore and my head still pounds slightly, but it was worth it.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Happenings
There's a girl on Tumblr named Katie C. who's joining the Church. We're all really excited to see Tumblr Stake grow, too. It's really cool when people start investigating. Apparently she's been praying about it for a while.
Today has been really slow. I've been watching movies all day to see if I can speed the time by until I can go to Sons of Helaman. I've also been texting Crystal on and off.
Not much has really been going on lately.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Performance, and stupid Wendy's
The performance went extremely well. The only really huge hitch was at the very end during our finale. My partner, Sidnee, tripped over her dress. I was looking at her, following her across the floor, glanced to my right to make sure that we were lined up, and then looked back and she was gone. I looked down and saw her on the ground. I reached down to help her up, and the next thing I know, I'm on the ground beside her. After a nanosecond of processing, we both burst out laughing and helped each other up.
A lot of people came, and the support was awesome. I love everyone in Silhouette and I'm gonna miss them. Tuesday's just aren't going to be the same without dance.
Now, to the annoying part. T_T
Afterwards, we went to Wendy's near Tricia's house. I arrived there slightly late, as I had to take a bit of an alternate route. Eventually I got there with myself, Josh, Morgan, Kade, Kannon, and Caleb. [Josh and Morgan are family, and Caleb might as well be too] Everyone was standing around, but as I pulled in everyone started to swarm towards Danny's huge truck.
Everyone piled into the bed and stood up, aside from the people at the edge. We all went really quiet while Danny started to order using a hilarious accent.
"I'd like to order 21 frosty's."
"What?" The manager said. You could tell that she was not in the best mood.
"I'd like to order--"
"Either order seriously or get out of my drive-thru."
"Okay. I would like to get 21 frosty's."
"You aren't going through my drive-thru with all those kids in the back. They'll have to get out."
The way she said everything was very rude. Everyone got out of the truck, and then she ordered Danny out of the drive-thru anyway.
Not going there again. Not if I can help it.
Anyway, afterwards we went over to Tricia's house and had ice cream and talked a ton and chased each other around. It was awesome.
A lot of people came, and the support was awesome. I love everyone in Silhouette and I'm gonna miss them. Tuesday's just aren't going to be the same without dance.
Now, to the annoying part. T_T
Afterwards, we went to Wendy's near Tricia's house. I arrived there slightly late, as I had to take a bit of an alternate route. Eventually I got there with myself, Josh, Morgan, Kade, Kannon, and Caleb. [Josh and Morgan are family, and Caleb might as well be too] Everyone was standing around, but as I pulled in everyone started to swarm towards Danny's huge truck.
Everyone piled into the bed and stood up, aside from the people at the edge. We all went really quiet while Danny started to order using a hilarious accent.
"I'd like to order 21 frosty's."
"What?" The manager said. You could tell that she was not in the best mood.
"I'd like to order--"
"Either order seriously or get out of my drive-thru."
"Okay. I would like to get 21 frosty's."
"You aren't going through my drive-thru with all those kids in the back. They'll have to get out."
The way she said everything was very rude. Everyone got out of the truck, and then she ordered Danny out of the drive-thru anyway.
Not going there again. Not if I can help it.
Anyway, afterwards we went over to Tricia's house and had ice cream and talked a ton and chased each other around. It was awesome.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Singles' Ward and stalking blogs
The Singles' Ward wasn't that bad. It's very easy to feel lost when you've been in a family ward (read: congregation) for most of your life, and then suddenly you're alone, with no one that you know personally aside from vague mental fragments of their face, as if you're remembering them from a past life.
However, I did meet 3 people. Christian, a high councilman, or at least a member of the Bishopbric; Zack, who gave a talk and is a return missionary; and Francis. Two boys and a girl. Zack gave me a ride home and I think he might be one of the people that aren't necessarily going to become my good friend, but I can at least depend on him.
Now here comes the second part of my title, which may or may not scare people.
I'm innately curious, but passively so. When I'm interested in something, I google it and may spend several hours looking up that topic and things relating to it. However, other than that, I don't often look things up just to read about them. Today seems to be one of the days where I research and my curiosity is bubbling over.
I've read quite a bit (or at least skimmed) over Stephanie's blog. I knew her most/best during the Kendra days, and so that's probably why I'm never mentioned. I don't mind. It's just strange reading about someone that you--through your own fault--have drifted away from. It's like watching a half-forgotten movie's sequel. You know the characters and their personalities and how they were, and suddenly you're seeing how they are now, after time has passed. It's very interesting. And now I'm making them look out to be some kind of a case study. I mean, it's interesting to see what happens to people when time passes.
One of the people that comments often on Stephanie's blog is named Jay, and after a quick check of their blog, I followed. Or whatever it's called here. On tumblr and twitter it's called following. I'm not really familiar with whatever "blogger" lingo there may be here. *shrugs*
I will try and put a post limit here per day. I can talk a lot, about nearly anything, for hours. But for now I think I'll try and keep it under like 7 posts a day. That's still a lot, I know, but understand this:
I have thoughts constantly about quite a lot going through my head at any given time, except when I'm sleeping. I also have a lot of time on my hands. Ridiculous amounts of time. That will cease once I get a job, but only in part. When I'm home, you can bet that I'll still be thinking and writing and posting.
However, I did meet 3 people. Christian, a high councilman, or at least a member of the Bishopbric; Zack, who gave a talk and is a return missionary; and Francis. Two boys and a girl. Zack gave me a ride home and I think he might be one of the people that aren't necessarily going to become my good friend, but I can at least depend on him.
Now here comes the second part of my title, which may or may not scare people.
I'm innately curious, but passively so. When I'm interested in something, I google it and may spend several hours looking up that topic and things relating to it. However, other than that, I don't often look things up just to read about them. Today seems to be one of the days where I research and my curiosity is bubbling over.
I've read quite a bit (or at least skimmed) over Stephanie's blog. I knew her most/best during the Kendra days, and so that's probably why I'm never mentioned. I don't mind. It's just strange reading about someone that you--through your own fault--have drifted away from. It's like watching a half-forgotten movie's sequel. You know the characters and their personalities and how they were, and suddenly you're seeing how they are now, after time has passed. It's very interesting. And now I'm making them look out to be some kind of a case study. I mean, it's interesting to see what happens to people when time passes.
One of the people that comments often on Stephanie's blog is named Jay, and after a quick check of their blog, I followed. Or whatever it's called here. On tumblr and twitter it's called following. I'm not really familiar with whatever "blogger" lingo there may be here. *shrugs*
I will try and put a post limit here per day. I can talk a lot, about nearly anything, for hours. But for now I think I'll try and keep it under like 7 posts a day. That's still a lot, I know, but understand this:
I have thoughts constantly about quite a lot going through my head at any given time, except when I'm sleeping. I also have a lot of time on my hands. Ridiculous amounts of time. That will cease once I get a job, but only in part. When I'm home, you can bet that I'll still be thinking and writing and posting.
Happenings
I'm Jordan. You probably knew that. I'm often on tumblr. I write quite a bit and am getting considerably better. Especially since I've figured out that I need to use those darn apostrophes. I'm getting better at it.
I'm a lifelong Mormon. And I'm afraid that, at times, I haven't been as close to my religion as I'd like, or I haven't been a very good example of our teachings. I really do want to become better at that, especially as I strive to be worthy of serving my mission.
What's a mission? A mission is a 2-year term of dedicated religious service where we proselyte in various towns, cities, and inside of homes, if we're invited in. We're "called" by the leaders of our Church to go and serve in a given area that we believe they receive upon revelation from God.
Basically some guys in suits tell us to go to some city or country we've never been to before to tell people that there's someone they may not know that cares about them more than they can understand.
Anyway, as of right now, I'm considered "unworthy" to go on a mission. Why? Well, here's the hard truth. I'm addicted to a form of stimulation that is considered a sin in my Church.
To me, it's an absolutely disgusting thing, but it's hard to be rid of. I fight it along with many, many other people that I know or have known.
"I'm a lifelong Mormon" is a horrible sentence. Why? Because Mormon was the Prophet that abridged several plates of brass and gold way back a few thousand years ago. I am not Mormon. I wish I could be like him, but I'm definitely not him. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We're more commonly known as "Mormons" although we're encouraged to use our full Church's name whenever and wherever the subject arises.
Currently not a lot is going on in my life. I just came back from a small 3-day camp called Shakespeare Showdown. There, I was in charge of 9 12-17 year-olds that were quite the fun group to be around. It was quite exciting to be there, and I wish that I could go again next year, but if my plans work out, I'll be on my mission!
I am a Ballroom dancer. However, we only have 1 performance left before we're done. It's the ultimate wrap-up, with over 20 performances going on. I love my dance company, Silhouette, but I won't pretend that I don't have some minor negative feelings towards it.
I use Linux Ubuntu 2D 12.04. I think. It might be 12.10. That may not even be out yet. Whatever, I'll look that up later.
The purpose of this place is for me to be open about what I feel. On tumblr, which I dearly love and yet may never leave, I feel trapped. There are too many people that have gotten to know me too well for my liking. I feel as if I can't say what I want to--need to--because of this. And so I came up with an idea to reconnect to my past and revisit Blogger. I see they've totally streamlined the interface. So good job on that, Google. I like it.
Occasionally, I swear. Occasionally, I'll have posts that are somewhat explicit because of the nature of my addiction. However, those posts will be rare, and they'll have warnings in the title, so no worries.
Also, I really like to talk a lot. I have a lot of time on my hands and, as such, will usually have no problem typing up huge posts.
I have two signatures that I'll probably switch between depending on the nature of the post. Usually it will be oro tius, which means "I pray more" or "pray more", according to Google translate. I should probably ask Stephanie if that's the right translation, since she knows a lot more about Latin than I do.
The other signature is surgere ut libertatem, which means "rise to freedom". Those will be on my posts relating to addiction.
oro tius
I'm a lifelong Mormon. And I'm afraid that, at times, I haven't been as close to my religion as I'd like, or I haven't been a very good example of our teachings. I really do want to become better at that, especially as I strive to be worthy of serving my mission.
What's a mission? A mission is a 2-year term of dedicated religious service where we proselyte in various towns, cities, and inside of homes, if we're invited in. We're "called" by the leaders of our Church to go and serve in a given area that we believe they receive upon revelation from God.
Basically some guys in suits tell us to go to some city or country we've never been to before to tell people that there's someone they may not know that cares about them more than they can understand.
Anyway, as of right now, I'm considered "unworthy" to go on a mission. Why? Well, here's the hard truth. I'm addicted to a form of stimulation that is considered a sin in my Church.
To me, it's an absolutely disgusting thing, but it's hard to be rid of. I fight it along with many, many other people that I know or have known.
"I'm a lifelong Mormon" is a horrible sentence. Why? Because Mormon was the Prophet that abridged several plates of brass and gold way back a few thousand years ago. I am not Mormon. I wish I could be like him, but I'm definitely not him. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We're more commonly known as "Mormons" although we're encouraged to use our full Church's name whenever and wherever the subject arises.
Currently not a lot is going on in my life. I just came back from a small 3-day camp called Shakespeare Showdown. There, I was in charge of 9 12-17 year-olds that were quite the fun group to be around. It was quite exciting to be there, and I wish that I could go again next year, but if my plans work out, I'll be on my mission!
I am a Ballroom dancer. However, we only have 1 performance left before we're done. It's the ultimate wrap-up, with over 20 performances going on. I love my dance company, Silhouette, but I won't pretend that I don't have some minor negative feelings towards it.
I use Linux Ubuntu 2D 12.04. I think. It might be 12.10. That may not even be out yet. Whatever, I'll look that up later.
The purpose of this place is for me to be open about what I feel. On tumblr, which I dearly love and yet may never leave, I feel trapped. There are too many people that have gotten to know me too well for my liking. I feel as if I can't say what I want to--need to--because of this. And so I came up with an idea to reconnect to my past and revisit Blogger. I see they've totally streamlined the interface. So good job on that, Google. I like it.
Occasionally, I swear. Occasionally, I'll have posts that are somewhat explicit because of the nature of my addiction. However, those posts will be rare, and they'll have warnings in the title, so no worries.
Also, I really like to talk a lot. I have a lot of time on my hands and, as such, will usually have no problem typing up huge posts.
I have two signatures that I'll probably switch between depending on the nature of the post. Usually it will be oro tius, which means "I pray more" or "pray more", according to Google translate. I should probably ask Stephanie if that's the right translation, since she knows a lot more about Latin than I do.
The other signature is surgere ut libertatem, which means "rise to freedom". Those will be on my posts relating to addiction.
oro tius
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