What You Have Within You

Photo by Katya Azi on Unsplash

There’s a lot on my mind and in my heart right now. My friend’s brother passed away earlier this week and the funeral was today (I'm writing this on a Saturday). It brings up a lot of emotions for various reasons. I don’t know the details surrounding his death. I don’t really want to know the details, though I do know that he took his own life. The first emotions I feel are shock and disbelief. I would never have thought that things were that bad for him and as far as I’m aware there is no mental illness in the family that might explain it. It’s normal to want to know why, but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened. It also brings up feelings of great sadness. Sadness for my friend and their families, for all those who remain to wonder and grieve. Feelings which are all hard, but also a normal part of the process.

What is unexpected is how quickly it brought me back to the times in my life when I’ve been suicidal. I’ve never attempted suicide formally, but I had planned how I would do it, I’ve written suicide notes, etc. I know that darkness. I know that pain. I know that despair. I know that desire for escape, for just wanting the pain to end.

But along with all that grief, there is also, deep within, a feeling of relief. I can look back and see where I have been. Where I am now is in such a better, healthier place than I’ve ever been. I’m immensely grateful. I’m grateful that I survived. I’m grateful that I am no longer in those dark places. I’m grateful to be in a much healthier place, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I’m not lucky. I’m not special. I’m not favored. While I can’t go into all the details, the reason I’m still here is because my Heavenly Father let me know that He was aware of me, that He was aware of my pain, and that He wasn’t going to let me go without a fight. So I’m still here. With lots of questions, but I’m still here!

I have been reflecting on this distance between the here and now and the past – really the difference in who I am now from who I was in the past. I haven’t shied away from sharing that I was a victim of abuse. I’ve mentioned – without going into detail – that I’ve had my share of addictions. I was traumatized in many ways, which left me believing that I was inherently damaged, broken, and worthless as a result of all of these things happening in my life. And I was resentful. Not only was I resentful that these things happened to me, but I was resentful that I wasn’t given what I needed as a child to combat these terrible events/circumstances. I wasn’t given confidence. I wasn’t given the affection I longed for; the praise I sought so desperately from my parents; the comfort and understanding I wanted from my mother; and the sense of worth, importance, and “mattering” that I longed for from my father.

I’m not criticizing my parents here, even though it sounds like it. They did the best they could, and from the little I know, they did better by me than what they had been given from their own parents.

But that’s the idea I’ve focused on my whole life – what I should have been given from my parents; or what I expected them to give me. Which, on the surface, seems accurate – parents “give” their children a sense of belonging, a sense of comfort, and sense of pride/confidence, a sense of mattering to someone, as well as a sense of being loved, of worth, of safety, etc.

And for most of my adult life, I believed those were things I did NOT get from my parents. Which only added to feeling empty, worthless, damaged, not good enough, etc. As if I’ve been walking through life with these holes in me, these absences, that were supposed to be filled by my parents, but weren’t. And I have felt despair, believing that filling those holes was a one-shot deal, either they are “filled” in by your parents, or they are not; and if they are not, well then, you’ve missed your chance and they are going to remain empty for the rest of your life, because they could ONLY be filled at a certain time in your life (i.e., childhood) and in a certain way (i.e., by parents).

But my reflections today on who I am and who I have been, has changed my perspective on that.

For the last few years, I’ve been working on “filling those missing pieces of myself.” I had finally decided that even if I wasn’t given the things I felt I needed from my parents in order to feel whole, complete, and a sense of worth, I could “resign” myself to learning how to fill those pieces in for myself. This, in and of itself, is a monumental shift in changing my way of thinking. I still felt some resentment at needing to fill in those missing pieces on my own, but it was the first time I felt hope at being able to fill in those pieces, i.e., have my needs met – even if I did have to do it on my own!

Overall, I would say that it has been working. It has helped me to reach a better place where I know I have to do what I’m doing to help myself, because I am the only one who can help myself right now, and that’s okay – in fact, this has been a really important lesson for me to learn. 

In order to make another point here, I want to relate a work experience I had several years ago. For a time I was working as a Home Health Speech-Language Pathologist, which meant going to people’s homes to provide rehab on speech, language, voice, swallowing, etc. I recall one particular time, where I had gone to an Assisted Living Facility in Bountiful to treat a lady that had been having some swallowing issues. She was a sweet lady, but my heart went out to her – she was in her late 60’s, very overweight, living in an electric wheelchair and I could just see that life had been hard for her. Sometimes, when you’ve been through a certain kind of darkness, you recognize it in others.

We had met for a couple of sessions, and I had been teaching her some exercises for swallowing. On this particular visit, we went through the routine exercises and I could see some improvement, which I always make a point to recognize for my patients. I told her, fairly simply, though sincere, “hey, you did really well with those exercises, I can tell that you’ve been practicing.” I paused for just a second, and then added, “I’m really proud of you.”

She reacted almost as if she was startled, and then started to cry – which startled me! I asked her if I did or said something wrong, and through her sweet, innocent tears said something that broke my heart. She said, “no one’s ever said that to me before.” I jumped up out of my chair and gave her a big hug; I mean, what else could I do?!

It broke my heart to think that this sweet woman had lived her whole life, never hearing that she had made anyone proud. And it sounds like such a simple thing, but it also broke my heart for another reason – I had lived my whole life never hearing anyone say that to me either. I wanted so much to make my dad proud, or my mom, and I had never, ever felt like I did. Partially because I knew what terrible choices I had made, but also because I believed who I was, was inherently disappointing. I mean, how could any parent be proud of a son who is overweight, ugly, unaccomplished at anything, and gay? I actually have a vivid memory of my dad telling me once that he was disappointed in me. It was only once, but I knew it was how he truly felt about me, because I never heard him say otherwise. And if that’s how my own father felt about me, then what else was I to believe?

I really couldn’t have known what impact the words I spoke would have on this woman, but my words were sincere and I think that’s why they were powerful for her.

Today, as I reflected on that experience, I saw something else in it that I had never considered before: I gave this woman something that had never been given to me. How is that possible? If I never made anyone proud, and I had that as an emptiness within me, then how could I have given that to her? The only answer that makes sense to me, is that I wasn’t empty of this thing, as I had led myself to believe. I suddenly realized that it’s also possible that I never really have been “empty” of anything. That maybe, just maybe, all of those “needs” that I thought could only be granted by loving parents, were not really missing from me after all. Maybe they’ve been there all along, but I just couldn’t see them, because I “thought” they were missing.

Maybe it isn’t that parents are supposed to give you those things that are part of your identity, but maybe they are supposed to help you discover them within yourself. Yes, it is just as unfortunate and sad for anyone who doesn’t have parents or an upbringing that can help them see their worth and value and importance, but it’s not because those things are missing. Would I have wanted my parents to show me those parts of myself? Of course! I will always look back and I will always have wanted that, but for the first time in my life, I don’t feel empty.

I need to say that again: For the first time in my life, I don’t feel empty.

The irony is not lost on me. I have felt empty my whole life and I now believe that I have been perpetually trying to “fill” those needs with anything that would make me feel good – and what better way to feel good than to eat? So I ate. A lot. (It’s also not lost on me how ironic it is that feeling so empty inside would result in me gaining so much on the outside! As if my waistline were trying to compensate for the void I felt within.)

If I had it within me to be able to tell this woman that I was proud of her, then I suppose I have it within me to tell myself that I am proud of me. And just to be clear, I’m not talking about “comparison-pride.” I’m not talking about the pride that makes a comparison and says, “I’m better than…” No, I’m talking about “confidence-pride,” or maybe a better word is “assurance-pride.” The kind of pride that comes from the confidence, or the assurance, that you have inherent worth and value, simply for being who you are, and not in comparison to someone else.

It's hard in this world we live in. It’s hard to not compare. It’s hard to look at someone else’s life and NOT make some kind of comparison. Everything in the world invites that comparison; wants you to believe that you aren’t good enough, smart enough, talented enough, accomplished enough, strong enough, good looking enough, etc. I certainly bought into that idea. I wholeheartedly bought into that idea. And lived in misery and despair because of it; because I compared myself and was always lacking.

I understand, now, that my formative years contained experiences that prevented me from seeing what I had within myself, from seeing my worth, in fact. But I also now see that I wasn’t ever really lacking anything within, I just couldn’t see it.

I don’t know if this insight that I’ve had will help anyone else. I don’t know if anyone else will really even understand it, but I hope that if someone reading this feels empty inside, I want you to know that you aren’t. You already have everything within you that you need to heal, and to be whole, and to feel your own worth and value. It will take some faith and it will take some practice, but you can do it.

Because you have it within you.

Photo by Flavia Carpio on Unsplash

For my fellow Cavemen...

This weekend was my 20-year High School Reunion. Wow! I can’t believe I just typed that sentence! How did 20 years go by so quickly?! I attended American Fork High School, home of the Cavemen!

I didn’t go to my 5-year reunion. Nothing in my life had changed and I felt like I had nothing to show for myself. “Also,” I told myself, “I pretty much keep in touch with the people I’m closest to...” Which didn’t really last too long because, hi, people get married and then they evaporate.

I actually bought a ticket to my 10-year reunion, but then chickened out at the last minute and didn’t go. It had been 10 years and I STILL had nothing to show for my life. I hadn’t gotten married or had children. I was still fat and even uglier, because now my hair was falling out. Sure, I had graduated with a Bachelor’s degree and was working in Human Resources, but was that impressive? Not nearly enough to make up for my pathetic past. Or perhaps, more accurately, to “replace” how everyone might see me. In my mind everyone else was wildly successful – you know, married with 5 kids, millionaires running their own companies and jetting across the globe on fabulous vacations, etc. But I was still just me. Just fat, depressed, lonely, struggling, unimpressive – me. I had pretty much decided that “reunion’s” weren’t for me and I wasn’t ever going to another one…

But a lot can change in 10 years!! So what changed my mind? A lot of things, I guess. Maybe a little bit of curiosity to see how much other people have aged. Maybe curious to see people that I had good memories of, but hadn’t kept in touch with. But also a recognition that, even though my life hasn’t turned out the way I had planned – or even hoped – I’m pretty sure no one else’s life has turned out the way they planned either. Sure, I’m still fat and bald; still not married; no kids to speak of; I haven’t really done anything impressive with my life, or earned any great accolades; but I have changed. I’m not who I was in High School and thank God for that!!

High School was really difficult for me – as I know it was for many people. I was unbelievably self-conscious. Internally, I withered when anyone looked at me because I knew they were looking at how fat and ugly I was. All I ever wanted to do was blend in – disappear, so to speak. Unfortunately, I had a body that wouldn’t let me “blend in.” Every day I woke up to a world that I didn’t “fit” into. Literally.

Of course I was made fun of; Of course I was ostracized and laughed at. I even had to endure teasing from teachers… I hated myself. I had succumbed to multiple addictions at that point in my life and I felt like the worst piece of scum that had ever been created. In fact, I felt like I was a mistake. And I wanted it all to end – frequently. I never actually had the balls to carry out any of my plans to commit suicide, but I planned how I would die – a lot.

Fast forward to the day of my reunion. There was a 5k in the morning and some family activities. I knew I could walk the 5k, so I decided to go. It wasn’t until I was there that I realized how hard it was going to be to recognize people!! So glad we had name tags!! :) But I saw several people I knew and it was so much fun to catch up and see what people were doing and to see where life had taken them. What was the most ironic for me, was to hear people say, “I remember that you were always so happy and always had a smile on your face.” Technically, they weren’t wrong. I DID always have a smile on my face, because I was lying to everyone. I wanted to die inside, but I couldn’t let anyone see that. I didn’t want anyone to worry about me. Or worse, let people catch on that I wasn’t okay, and risk finding that they really didn’t care… So I hid myself behind a mask of smiles and happiness. It wasn’t real, but I guess it was pretty convincing. I guess I was more worn out from the 5k than I realized, because when I got home I slept for a couple of hours. 

Later, I got ready and headed out for the evening portion of the reunion when I had a surreal experience about 5 minutes from my house. I was driving on the Van Winkle Expressway and looking at the mountains when I suddenly had this intense realization that I was okay. That might sound anti-climactic, but I will never be able to capture in words how deep that realization came to me. “I am okay.” I also can’t convey how profound it is for someone who spent their entire life feeling like a mistake, to look within their own soul and find contentment. I was so overwhelmed I started crying. I was overcome with gratitude.

“How did I get here? How did I get to being okay, when for so long I wasn’t? And I genuinely believed that I never would be.” I thought about all of the terrible things I’ve experienced in my life – the sexual and emotional abuse, the addictions, the depression/anxiety, the self-hatred, etc. And I recalled an experience where the Spirit told me that Heavenly Father would let me make my own decisions (e.g., with regards to suicide), but that He wasn’t going to let me go without a fight. And He kept His promise. The fact that I was there, driving to my 20-year High School reunion, when I almost didn’t survive high school, was proof of that.

A major part of that has been just in the last year. I hired a personal trainer and while I’m nowhere close to my physical goals, the change it has made on my mind and outlook on life is immense. Every effort to improve myself physically has challenged every aspect of my being – physical, mental, emotional and spiritual. Every effort to improve myself physically has brought untold trials and challenges, but it has also brought immeasurable success. Ten months ago I was 300lbs and couldn’t even deadlift an unloaded bar; today I weigh 295lbs, but can deadlift 300lbs. I can’t even begin to tell you what it means to be able to deadlift more than my own bodyweight!! No, I haven’t lost nearly as much weight (fat!) as I would like, but I am stronger than I used to be; I have changed.

I used to wake up with fear and dread, unable to bear the uncertainty of what horrors each new day would bring. But now, I wake up content; knowing that no matter what happens, I can handle it; and if I can’t, I have a Savior I can call on to help me, which means, even if I can’t handle it, I can still get through it. I know that I am worth being helped. I know that I am capable of meeting challenges, because I’m not alone. I know that God makes up the difference WHILE I’m giving it my all, not ‘after’. I know He loves me. I know I’m important to Him. I know that I’m okay.

Yes, I still have addictions I’m grappling with. I have so much to repent of, and to overcome. I am nowhere near perfect, nor do I pretend to be. I still have days where I’m lonely and depressed and want to give up. But those days come much less often than they used to. I still have a lot that I could beat myself up for (fat, ugly, not married, no kids, etc.), but I’ve done that my whole life, and what has it gotten me? Misery. So I’m trying to be nice to myself; I’m trying to be a friend to myself. I’m trying to improve myself and take care of myself – and be okay with that.

The result is that I am capable of seeing all of me – the good and the bad – and being okay with it. I feel like I am now able to live life with nothing to “prove.” I no longer feel the need to make excuses for all that I haven’t done, i.e., all that I haven’t measured up to (marriage/family/weightloss, etc). I’m working on the things that I need to change and for the first time in my life, I know that I’m okay WHILE I’m working on those things and not “I’ll be okay WHEN I have those things.”

Maybe this is the real reason I needed this 20-year reunion. Maybe I just needed to be reminded of how much has changed for the better and how all of those difficult, painful, miserable experiences, were a part of my journey for a reason. And I needed to be reminded that there was also a lot of happiness. While I may not have been close to very many people in high school, and while many people did make fun of me, there were so many more who were friendly and kind. Those are the people I wanted to see -  those whom I hadn’t truly appreciated for their kindness. (Hell, those who even just tolerated me meant something to me!)

Yeah, there is a part of me that wishes I had appreciated them more. There is a part of me that wishes I had been a better friend to so many others. But the past is to be learned from, not mourned. I thought going to my reunion would make me nostalgic, but it had the opposite effect – it made me appreciative of where I am and of how much courage, strength and divine help it’s taken me to get here. And maybe for the first time in my life, I’m finally genuinely living the way people remember me – smiling and happy. 

Thank you to all the “Cavemen” who were a part of my journey – I needed you! (And yes, I’ll always fight for AF High!!)

Don't feel obligated to read this post... it's long... and maybe just needed to be written, more than read...

I can't believe the year is half over (or half-full, depending on how you look at life?)!! So, yeah, half-over...

I'm kind of cynical these days and, I'll be honest, maybe a little bit depressed. My expectation for where I'd be right now is SO different from where I am.  And I mean "where" in both a literal and abstract sense. I did not expect to be single and living with my mom at the age of 35. I did not expect to be needing gas and food money at this point in my life. It's all the more difficult for having been independent for so long. Not that I'm not grateful, because I am. I wouldn't be surviving right now with out her help and I know she likes to be able to help. But there's something about being a guy that makes me feel less of a man for having to be so dependent. It's humbling and, frankly, I don't like it. I probably need it though... :)

Also, I never saw myself as being unemployed, overweight and single at this "where" in my life either. In my mind I saw myself as being much more successful regarding employment, weight loss/improved health, certainly married with a kid or two, etc. But it hasn't happened. I guess what's hard is that I only have myself to blame. If it didn't happen, it's because I didn't make it happen. I obviously made the choices that did NOT lead to the outcome I expected or wanted. Right now I'm trying to NOT beat myself up for that, but honestly... self-pity is soooo easy and comes soooo naturally to me!! I'm sure that's the bulk of my problem right there...

I wish I could live inside the mind of a really healthy person and see what it's like. What's it like to always make the right choices? What's it like to be positive all the time and be able to put a positive spin on things, even when challenges occur? I've never been the motivational-Tony Robbins-lets-go-out-and-crush-the-world kind of guy. I admire people like that. People who set their mind to something and are successful at it no matter the cost. That's not me - I'm much more passive.

Being unemployed, I've had a lot of time to think about this. What I've uncovered is a deep-seated "core" belief that it's wrong to feel good about myself. I have no idea where or when this started. I have no idea what event or events lead to this being the case, but it's very clear to me now that this belief has underscored much of my belief system as a whole and how I approach life. Essentially, I approach life as if I'm undeserving and not good enough (i.e., I don't "measure up"). It's at the heart of why I'm afraid of everything - I'm afraid that I won't be equal to whatever task is before me and even if I do achieve some measure of success, I'm afraid I don't deserve it.

Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, you know what would be really cool? Getting inside the mind of a really healthy person and then putting that person back into my life and see how they handle things. From the moment they wake up in my life to the moment they go to bed, what different choices would they make and why? Of course it's just a thought experiment, typical of someone who tends to over-think everything, and not really anything that can bring resolution.

I'm not sure what my self-effacing beliefs buy me. Maybe it's a sense of false-humility. You know, the idea that "I'm humble because I hate myself?" Which is NOT what humility is, and I know that now, but maybe when I was a little kid I didn't know that...

Much more likely is the sense that self-loathing is somehow penance. It's possible that it grew out of a desire to "pay for my sins." It's the idea that I deserve to be punished because I did something wrong. Quite frankly, I did a lot of things wrong and felt that I deserved to be punished and that somehow God's punishment wouldn't be enough. I had to multiply His punishment by punishing myself. I suppose some people turn to physical means of punishment, but I turned to emotional means of punishment. Phrases with hurtful labels like "I'm so stupid, I'm so ugly/fat, I'm such a moron, I'm such an idiot," etc. ran through my mind so frequently that, eventually, the feelings that accompanied those thoughts just never went away. Feeling bad about myself became normal, status quo, just... who I am.

I think it's at the heart of why I feel I have to be perfect. Being perfect is the only way to make up for all the terrible things I did when I was younger. I could NOT allow myself to mess up or make a mistake. I held myself to a higher standard because anything less meant I wasn't good enough. And isn't that the expected standard? Aren't we commanded by the Savior himself to be perfect? So that was my justification for why I was right to expect perfection and condemn (within myself) anything that wasn't. And - bonus! - because I'm human and mess-up constantly, I had plenty of opportunity to berate myself and see my faults and flaws as PROOF that I was worthless. I was supposed to be perfect, but couldn't be and because I couldn't, I was worthless. The fault was always mine. It was always there, that feeling that there was just something wrong within me. That I, or my entire being, was somehow wrong.

Hence my love of hating myself. Depression? You betcha! Suicidal thoughts? Check! Actually, I don't think anyone knows that about me, or at least, they didn't until just now. A couple of times in Junior High, High School and later years, I was pretty close to suicide. Really close, actually. Ironically, I never went through with it because I knew I would mess that up too!

You know what I just realized? Self-pity gives you an odd sense of power over other people. It allows you to make other people around you helpless. Because the problem is within me, no one else can fix it and on some level I know this. So I tell people how horrible my life is because it gives me their pity, which is a twisted form of attention, but it also justifies my depression/self-loathing. And because there's nothing anyone can do to change that, it reinforces itself - it perpetuates itself. It's just another way of feeling good about feeling bad about myself. (This is kind of a major breakthrough for me!!)

The realization is half the battle. Now that I know this I want to be able to wake up tomorrow totally different, but I know that these negative beliefs are very well ingrained. The neural pathways that underlie these connections are hard-wired at this point. But I do know that the mind is capable of changing those pathways, but that it takes time and constant, conscientious, reinforcement. I suddenly feel like I'm not up to the task. See? I'm already battling myself on these things.

This is going to take some doing. I can see that. But it is possible. I've been so busy punishing myself that I've hardly had time to acknowledge that I have a Father in Heaven who loves me and truly wants to help me. I haven't allowed the Savior to help me either, because I felt like I had to do everything on my own. It is also a self-inflicted punishment to deny the Savior's atoning sacrifice to work in my life. To refuse His grace. I need help knowing how to do that now. I need help knowing how to accept myself as a fallible human being, full of faults and flaws and knowing that I can't be perfect here, in this life, and that that's okay. Because for so long, it hasn't been.

I think I see now why I'm not "where" I wanted to be. I've been my own worst enemy. Granted, there is an adversary, pushing me to hate myself, but he never forced my hand. The poor choices I made were my own. And my thought patterns and beliefs have been working against me my entire life. I'm starting to feel like it's a miracle that I've achieved anything. That I'm even still here.

I have too many thoughts and emotions running through my mind and heart right now and all I can think is, how do I end this on a positive note?!? I realize now that what started as an update, was really something I've been needing to acknowledge for myself for awhile now. I was about to delete all of this and put it in another journal, but I've decided not to. It might be inappropriate for me to have put such personal things out there. But perhaps they had power over me precisely because I was afraid of acknowledging them. I so often retreat within myself, rather than reaching out and asking for help. This is my way of saying, "I'm not afraid anymore." And, if I'm right, I'm probably not alone in my "faulty" beliefs and if there's anyone out there who can be helped by knowing you're not alone, then it's worth it.

I have known and been loved by so many wonderful people in my lifetime. To those of you who fit that category, I'm so sorry that I was too broken to really appreciate you. I pray that from now on I can really let you in and feel like I'm worth it.