Sibling Strife

Dear Reader,

A different topic this time around. And something I’ve thought about heavily these past few months. My mind has been dancing between some dark areas, and areas that were lacking. And one thing that came up was my lack of connection to my two older brothers. I’ve found that I really don’t have much of a connection, or longing of their presence.

Now that we’ve all became adults and beginning making our own lives. Both of my brothers have moved out and rented a place. Making their own place in the world. While I’m inching closer to my Twenty-First birthday in four months. They’ve done quite a bit despite the troubles they’ve gone through. and I hate to admit I don’t miss them at all. Nor am I really eager to see them.

There are quite a few reasons why I see why I’m not troubled with them gone.

My older brothers are two years apart, while I am the youngest by five and three. With that, they’ve already gone and made their choices. They have vastly different experiences. More attachments to my extended family than I’ve bothered to have. But with choices and experiences, I feel that’s taken it’s toll on their relationship with me.

      Both have a history of crime behind them. From just the common youth mistakes and poor choices. To further crimes. Theft, drug use, assault, Car Theft. They have both at least done these things. The strain it has placed at home was felt horribly. With a single mother doing everything and a half to straighten them out. But only to sadly fail when they both have spent time in federal prison for a month or two.

The second eldest child followed the first. He admired him. Idolized him if that is to be said. He’s even gone further than the first with heroine, multiple breaking and entering charges, and longer time spent in prison. He’s caused a lot more harm than the first. And to layer onto his problems is his high aggression against me as a child.

As the youngest of the three. I watched it all. I saw them get in trouble. I would go periods of time without seeing them. We hardly did much together as brothers. I felt like I had to wait until they were kicked out or left till I felt truly safe at home in my time. But I never spoke up about my unease and my sense of danger whenever they were home. As I only watched and listened from behind the safety of my door and room.

My brothers were aggressive. I’ve got my fair share of scars and bruises they’ve left on me. I couldn’t fight and often bullied me. Although some memories remain where we got along, those memories amount little to the mountain of disdain I held against them. I never provoked physical fights. Plenty of verbal however. But never struck first. I learned that they want you to fight.

They’ve fought multiple people. Many stories now between my step-dad and second eldest brother end up in someone getting punched or shoved. I know not to feed into their desire to hurt. As much as the aggression has died down, it still remains there. Much of the pain from the past has left me wanting to distance myself from them.

 

Another reason is the betrayals I felt. If it was not against my mom. It was on me. I’ve been lied to, stolen from, and pushed into corners into aiding them. I can’t trust them any more. And it takes the scrutiny from my family,  and the excuse “They’re family you know…”. To push to even bother with them. And I try my best to remain hidden as I’ve spent much of my life.

I don’t want to be involved with them any further than their children. With the second having a child just two years ago. My niece is a bright child and I wouldn’t do anything to be involved in her life. As long as I live with my mother, she will also have her Uncle Travis around. Until the day I’ll need to move out and make my place in this already crumby world.

For the sense of resentment of my brothers. I only get a sense of naivety from them about me. they talk to me normally. That same, somewhat rushed and never lengthy talks when we speak. We actually talk to one another like anyone who talks to those extended family who want to know what’s new, but never truly get involved in your life to be worth much thought.

I honestly look at my brothers.. not as brothers. Not as friends. But as if they were cousins I never really want to hang out with. Even when their girlfriends, and now wives have truly changed them for the better. There is still nothing that remains between us that establishes a better relationship. I never looked up to them. I never want to speak to them about anything anymore.

 

My older brothers also have nothing in common with me. At one point, I’ve had a connection with the eldest when we both played World of Warcraft on my account. We could speak at length about encounters and things like that. But when he quit. that interest dropped like a rock, and we remain distant and silent.

Our music tastes are vastly different as they enjoy hard rap and Insane Clown Posse. While I enjoy the orchestra and pop. They love the outdoors and hunting. While I prefer to stay inside and play games. They smoke cigarettes and pot, while the least I ever do now pop back soda, and ever rarely a beer. Just everything they do, I am the complete opposite and cannot stand it.

The most we have done together in the longest time is when we went on vacation in 2013. We went out with our boat, and camped out there. Swimming, fishing, pulling the raft. For as much fun as that has been. That was the last thing we did and truly got along. Now it’s been distance once again. Awkward conversations made up the entirety of 2015.

I just sometimes wish I could build an interest with them. I’ve tried getting into their hobbies, and only fell short.

—————

This year, I feel much of my dark thoughts have stemmed from the broken relationships I have. How my resources and pool of people who I can open up too is dwindling. As seen in older reads in this blog. My friends don’t even truly know who I am. How I think and what I want from life. It seems the only people who even know me.. is my mother, my friends online, and one person who speaks to me on occasion.

This online personality gives me the chance to open up to people, where those at home should be the first to know. How I fear speaking to them, I’m not afraid to open up my Battle.net account and tell one of my friends of how I loathe myself, or how I feel like I messed up. But can’t work the nerve to my close friends and family about my own feelings and mental state.

As my anniversary of my suicide attempt passes by this week. I’m going to continue examining the clear problems. Maybe vent about it.. maybe even find ways to fix them. But there are no promises. I still hold the same resolve to open up about myself. But lack the courage to budge. We will see with this new year on what happens.

In short, my older brothers and I have a distant relationship. I honestly believe there wouldn’t be anything missing if we stopped speaking to one another now. Our entire lives have been distant. And the responsibilities of the older brothers watching over me died long ago. Maybe they died when my father passed away. The one man I never knew and never will. While they had a chance and felt heart broken for most of their youth with that gaping hole in their hearts they had to fill on their own.

To me, they were never big brothers. Even as the closest of biological family. They really do not encompass much love from me. Even as family, I know that there isn’t much to the imagination happening once we all go our separate ways.

Long Time Gone, but Greatly Recovered.

So I thought I forgot my WordPress account quite a long time ago. I thought writing my mind out back then would work. But found my late night writing came to an end after getting my new job and responsibilities. As I near my first year since my suicide attempt. I felt the need to come back onto Thoughtsblots once again.

I look past at my other posts, and saw my situation. How it has changed. Even though the seasonal depression is setting in. I’m doing far better now than I did in the beginning. This week I search to enroll into college, and find a new pristine plate to begin this new phase of my life on. What I decide to try out in the future from here on. My sexuality and state on my skepticism hasn’t changed much outside of my family knowing where I stand. And their respect couldn’t have been better.

I still work on speaking with my friends and opening up. Only two really know my stance, and I try to throw the hints without being too forward on the friends who don’t support LGBT folk. It would be a huge stress relief once the rest learn, and perhaps see the results. Which still scare me. But I know it’s bound to occur. They’ll learn one way or another, and I could only hope my approach is well received.

I know this blog is very disorganized, very messy. And lacks structure. But I feel the need to pick this up once again. Give my blog another shot. Perhaps add new topics that are both popular, and unpopular. And try to vent my mind in other ways that are not just my depression. We’ll see where the future goes. As I near the anniversary of my suicide attempt. I recognize a turning point of my life. Where I was at the darkest point, and turned my life around.

Growing with New Ideas (Atheism and Hope)

Dear reader, it certainly has been a while since I’ve last posted anything. With work consuming most of my free time. I’ve found little time to write anything that came to mind I wanted to discuss. However, in recent times, I’ve come to question my previous faith and my new look upon my new ideas as an agnostic atheist. To compare what my christian views are supposed to be, as opposed to my new beliefs.

I want to make this clear, as atheism is quite the bane of any religion. Atheism does provide hope. Hope is not a godly aspect, nor is it a religious aspect either. Hope is something we all yearn, and desire. To hope for a better tomorrow is something we all share. Hoping we live another day. Hoping our next work day doesn’t suck. Hope is in everything we try to achieve.

As a christian, I was often told, or implied aside from God. You cannot have hope in anything. You can’t have any TRUE hope. Which bothered me, a lot. How can’t we live with hopes and dreams without a god? How did we, as human beings even consider hope as something only a God can provide?

I will note that Atheism is not a religion. It’s not a way of life, or set path of lifestyles. Atheism is the lack of a belief in a God or Deity. Plain and simple. My life as a person didn’t change much when I came to the conclusion that I no longer believed in a God, or rather man made gods. I still worked, I still kept my friends, I still love my family. I still have my morals. Nothing in my life drastically changed when I claim there is no God man has imagined to be true.

When I stopped believing in Christian’s version of God. I felt more relieved. The idea no matter what you, me, or anyone else does. The higher power considered us worthless. I couldn’t do anything good that wasn’t called evil. I can’t try to be a nice person without being worthless. What was worse, no matter what I did. People were per-destined for hell. So much for “God’s Mercy” when he picks who ascends and descends.

Stopping my belief in god didn’t screw up what I believe is wrong and right. I still consider many things wrong, and likely will never change my view on that. Such as murder, thievery, rape, all the sorts of things that I’m certain you think is wrong. However I know a new hope for my life and what to achieve in this short life in mine.

I grew to accept death. Death IS natural. you can look to nature and see how it utilizes death, to bring new life. We all will meet death, it’s a fact of life. However, I’m no longer afraid to die. But does that mean I seek it? Of course not. I feel more motivated and free to make the most of my life. To find happiness, and give happiness to other folk. To make the best of everything life presents. For my family, and others.

I have hope in a brighter tomorrow for everyone. Not for a God who doesn’t raise a finger when I prayed. It was the actions of myself to determine what was to pass. If I saw a homeless man sleeping on the street. What is my prayer going to be? “Please god send something to help this man.” When I can take the action to help the man himself? Why am I so worried for God to take action, when I can do it myself?

I can take the action, that someone else will pray for. I have a hope what positive actions I put out there, will breed more positive results. Not to reward me, but make someone else’s life a bit easier. I hope that whatever I can do, my fellow man and woman will prosper and live a better life. Rather than live in negative light like the religions across the world like to present the rest of the world.

I grow each day with this new open minded approach to everything now. I have new hope in my life to make things better. Death is the final frontier, but that is the future. What matters is what we can do today, that will impact tomorrow. That is a way of life I wish to live. Rather than cling onto the hope that there is something beyond death. I don’t want to cling onto a hope that maybe my mother, when she dies isn’t going to be burning in this Hell because she believed the wrong god, or no god.

In the end, my newfound hope is given because I’m no longer centered upon fear of death. I’m not trying to blind myself to the nature of death in hopes of an afterlife. If it exists, I’ll find that answer out myself. But until then, I’m going to work to make a new generation to make life easier for everyone. To help them step by step to a new future. Not to a god who won’t take action, but to a future of where we all work hand in hand to secure happiness the best we can make it.

Microtransactions, DLC, and the horrors of Modern Gaming

Dear Reader, this topic tackles the topic of Gaming’s state in our current generation. From triple A title games, to the lesser games. This has came upon my mind after watching a popular youtuber’s video tackling this subject. Which you can watch below.

Boogie2988 here dissects the topic pretty well, and there is nothing really to argue against these ideas. I can agree with much of what Boogie has spoke about. And I feel there is more to bring forth about this. And how Modern gaming has become so riddled with greed and spite from developers to consumers, and vice versa.

Downloadable content, Microtransactions, Day 1 DLC, store location DLC, Season passes, pre-order bonuses. Why have games become so targetted for profit to the point it becomes detrimental to the game’s enjoyment and structure? Or better yet, why is our producers cutting big parts from the game just to turn it back around at us with a price tag?

We’ve seen plenty of games come along where there are immense amounts of DLC produced for them. From Dying Light’s cut of “Playing as a zombie” set behind a price tag before it was eventually opened to all players. A feature that should’ve have been available at the beginning of the game. To Evolve’s extreme amount of DLC content. That cut access to a playable creature, to guns and such. We have seen so many games come out with a price tag lock to hold us from playing a complete game.

Downloadable content has become such a huge part in modern gaming. To milk every cent out of our pockets. As the producers of these games want to make every dollar that they can upon any game. Even if the game flops financially, they can rely on DLC to save their hides from a critical failure. Games like Dead Island still made a profit on it’s DLC content, despite the game failing in ratings and sales.

I would want to propose a scenario. To anyone here who has played the big title: “The Elder Scrolls V, Skyrim”, imagine if many of the quests, or big features of Skyrim were locked behind a price. You couldn’t finish the “Unrelenting Force” shout without forking over three dollars or more. You were not allowed to recruit Derkeethus as a follower without Day One purchase. Or you couldn’t purchase/make a healing potion without tossing 50 cents.

Greed has taken gaming by the hair and been holding it for quite a bit. Prices of games are far more expensive in terms of completion. A game now days tends to feel incomplete without the installment of DLC or DLC-exclusive content. Producers are holding big parts of games behind these price tags and it only adds more discontentment to us consumers.

Downloadable content should add MORE to the game. To give a breath of fresh air and not to detract from the game. To keep the relevance of the game for all who wish to continue playing it. When I download some big DLC piece for a game, I want to have more to play to my game. Rather than feel forced to pay more just to get a complete game in my hands.

Skyrim’s DLC is a good example of  good downloadable content. Hearthfire, Dawnguard, and Dragonborn are all excellent DLC pieces that add more to the game’s environment and edge. You could download this game, and just get more to your experience. It added more to the game’s lore, didn’t take anything from the experience, and gave Skyrim’s reception even higher.

Downloadable content needs to give more to the player. And Producers are just not eager to do that. We see Ubisoft’s Assassin’s Creed flop with an ingame microtransaction system that LOCKED character progression in skills, moves, and abilities. This should NEVER be within a game. As Boogie states above, I shouldn’t fork money over to fill my car with gas. In game mechanics and character progress shouldn’t be halted by price tags. I wouldn’t love Skyrim at all if progressing past lv. 2 abilities in mage spells cost 5 bucks or more.

I believe producers need to learn what DLC was meant to be in the first installment. If your game feels incomplete, do not hide our missing pieces behind price tags or time locked prices. The consumer feels untrustworthy to the producer, and could lead to a possible decline in gaming sales because of these greedy motives that leave games half baked and unsatisfying.

Levels of Depression from Day to Day

This topic settles on a thing I’ve come to observe.  This isn’t the kinds of levels in chronic, chemically, or major. Rather the stages in life. Where our emotional highs and lows are. And how we cope with each situation. I won’t deny the severity of kinds of Depression. I personally all people can experience depression. When things change, or fail to change. Results don’t fare well for you, or merely just things around you influence your mind and it’s idle thoughts.

As of recently, I have gotten a new job that not only pays well, but I’m associated with people with similar interests and feel very welcomed in the job. A bit tough but have a group of people I’m happy to work with. In this situation, I don’t have a bad influence or lack thereof to give into some thoughts I’ve had in the beginning of this year. I would say my depression has been “quelled”.  I have things changing for the better and I am pleased with the results.

But what happens when you’re in a situation where from my experience: you’re unemployed, inactive in any groups, living in your parents’ basement, and left good opportunities behind. In this situation, I was more prone to question my purpose to life. To continue anything when it was relatively pointless to me. I walked away from the church so far to where I hardly attended until my friends had to ask me to come.  I had no motive or purpose to continue with something I thought, and still think is meaningless outside of the community. In this time, my depression was easy to hide but was eating away slowly.

I had my parents mad at me for lacking any sort of contribution to rent. Leaving my personal care to someone when I should be able to handle myself at this age. The negative reinforcement was taken badly to me. Not everyone will snap to reality when hit with reality, especially when one already knows it and just can’t figure the path on their own.  My depression became worse as time came on.

As the life of this unemployed young adult progressively got worse emotionally. The physical situation didn’t help at all either. My mind ponders the easy ways out, and suicide was such a reoccurring thought. Thinking of ways to get out of the problem I dug myself into and always coming back to the idea of ending myself appealed more and more outside of my own reservations.

Moving on, time changed and after my break down and later counseling, I have seen progress come into fruition. As things begin to become more positive, my thoughts change. With positive results, reinforcement, and just finally making good things to come. My mind has become occupied with more things than that lingering presence of suicide.

Depression has so many factors to it, and I’m so surprised how quick one can change from happy to downright miserable. How quickly good things and bad things can make others change their behavior. I would say depression is there always. It’s that little devil on your shoulder who just whispers sweet deals about the worst situations.

When you have a proactive life. when you are accomplishing things you want. When you feel purpose. Often or not you’re more likely to not feel suicidal, or feel down. I can’t guarantee this, as upbringing, culture, and peer expectation can still have factors. Right now, I’m in a stage where I feel better than before. I still have the idle thought, but no impulse here could get me to move on that thought. I don’t have a tendency to just dwell on all the things wrong with me, my family, my community, my situation, anything that could bring me down. I have a vocal result that has money coming in, pulling my weight, and in fact doing far better than before.

But when you are in a situation like I was a few months prior to now. You feel just absolutely worthless to the world. Being the first of three sons to graduate, as the youngest as well. Everyone has great expectations for me. To graduate college, to become the very opposite of my older brothers. To have a good paying job that will help me on my feet. Yet I failed all these. All my life I tell myself I’ll be better than them, but only to fail. How terribly can that hurt one’s self esteem and self worth?

I often feel each day, the events we run into can determine our worth to ourselves. If the day is overly positive, we might feel less bad than normally. When you have a situation or an event that just hurts your common day to day life. You’re more likely to feel sad or depressed.  How severe your situation is, can really depend how your inner thoughts turn. You’re less likely to feel hopeful.

I still face these thoughts. I’m not quite going to escape the religion influence that undoubtedly has helped me in my youth. And the lingering fear in my mind attributes to my depressed thoughts. “Will they hate me if I proclaim to be atheist?” “Will I have people harass me for leaving the church?” “Will I lose the friends I made in that church?” “Will my choice bite me in the ass later?”

I don’t intend to let my situation bring others down. But I also feel and think that the events of day to day influences our thoughts and self esteem. I can’t tell people to do positive things as it doesn’t guarantee that feeling you want. But I certainly know things that just preoccupy your mind can deafen out the devil on your shoulder. Things that either express your thoughts, or something to make you happy will tend to make your mood raise up.

Religion and Depression and My Experience

Beginning this topic with a note. this is focused on a controversial topic that I have felt the need to talk about. How it effects my life, and how it might effect others from teenagers, to the oldest of adults. It will contain possibly offensive context or ideas that combat religion. This isn’t a means to convince religion is wrong or anything. But to those who are at ends with it.

Starting this off, I am on the border of deist to Atheist. I do believe something is out there. But I do believe that no man made religion could ever depict or imagine a real deity, divine creator, or creators to perfection. Much of these thoughts have began with my natural skeptic mind and how I tend to question everything to the first page. It’s actually quite a bittersweet gift. I can get information, but at the dismay of my peers.

However since my mind has been inside the church for a good portion of my life. I feel many different feelings that tend to attribute to my paranoid mind and fears. I’m not quite open on the Atheist title to any of my church friends. However my family, and other friends outside of religion know about this. In a way, I am hiding a big part of myself to some really close people in my life.

Now how does this attribute to this topic? One thing that has been brought up in my counseling is that I am terrified to lose my friends. The people in my church are really close. They are a huge support group and assisted me in my teenage life. A lot of my teenage years have had many issues at home and I felt welcomed. However in the back of my mind I asked often “Why?”.

I have different views that Christianity regards as wrong. I find no issues in Homosexuality, and as brought up. I identify myself as Bisexual, which only hurts my self esteem since I’d be denying a part of myself that holds no gender barrier. I have no issues with sex outside of marriage. I don’t even understand half of the idea of sin and how no matter what we do, we always sinned. It almost made me feel worthless and somehow the christian god was to make me feel whole. But yet I only heard about how empty I am without this idea.

Let’s go back to the beginning of my faith. When I was in Jr. High, I was at a difficult time of my life. My dad died when I was in 5th grade, my grandpa shortly followed. I had so many sad thoughts because the primary people who influenced me were gone. I met my best friend, John. His family was Christian and the only way I could hang out with them if I attended church. This person was my only friend at the time in that school. I wasn’t popular nor was I good at talking with people.

From Jr. High till high school graduation, I attended this church. I began skeptical but as time went on, I thought I believed everything the bible had to say. Most of this time, I sought something as an answer to the pain I experienced growing up. Watching my family fall apart as my older brothers got into drugs and gangs didn’t help my young mind when I feared losing my brothers as well. I was comforted that if I prayed hard enough, maybe things would be fixed.

I won’t lie that things did change. For me at least. I stayed out of trouble. I had a good friend group. We did many different things such as charities, assistance with the Pregnancy Resource Center, Church Plays, held public dinners. It was fun and made me feel like I made a difference. But things didn’t quite change for the family.

I couldn’t convince my family to go to church with me. And all I heard in response to this was that I got to keep praying. No matter how much I prayed or asked others. nothing changed. I began questioning the meaning of this if nothing happens. The bible supposed to have answers, but nothing stood out. Even if it related. If I prayed for years on end and nothing came across. My prayers meant nothing.

According to the bible, my family are bound to burn in hell. A fear instilled onto us from the bible itself. If you don’t believe in this idea, you’re bound to head straight to hell. This idea made me feel horrible since I couldn’t do anything. My family didn’t follow along. and I couldn’t bare the idea of that. But no fruit was revealed from my prayers or words to convince.

Following graduation of High School, my church attendance became low. I didn’t believe the ideas. I didn’t care for the sermons. I only felt put down when Utah’s Gay Marriage was legalized and our church went heavy on the topic. I held these bisexual views and was only being shamed for feeling like this. I didn’t feel welcomed anymore.

The people in that church are not bigots. In fact it was quite welcoming to everyone. We held open sessions with LGBT groups who did believe in God. But the idea that love is restricted to one gender? I couldn’t grasp my mind on it. I have people in my life who are gay and married. they are happy and settled. But what makes that different than a man or woman? Because they cannot bear child? Or somehow that love is fake?

I drifted away with little to no attendance. Only going now because my best friends are the ones I want to keep close, but not push away with my skeptic thoughts. This has not made my mind settle that they’d accept me regardless. Because not only I’m throwing away the baptism I’ve done and the speech in front of the church. But also disappoint my peers who thought of the godly man here is backing away from “his commitment to Christ”.

I have observed many people drift away from religion. And when they admit they feel bad. Christians often say the Holy Spirit is making them feel guilty for leaving. But don’t you ever feel guilty when you do something against other people’s ideas? You leave one job for another and you’re shamed by your friends who work at your previous job for leaving.  Don’t we feel that our peers are the ones who shame us and make us feel guilty for leaving? Then have other professing Christians damn us or not believing their faith as our own?

People feel depressed when one leaves depression. People become frustrated at you. Disappointed, and in some cases, people try to wave off your mind as some phase or preach the gospel that means nothing to you at the time to bring you back. The people you are moving away from in their group look down on you. And hurts that person in the long run.

It is hard for those who leave religion because the people behind it can be the catalyst of shame and regret. Rather than understanding the mind of the person leaving, they try to persuade or make them feel terrible for the choice. It can be kind or rude. Some people will say they will pray that you come back to the truth. Others will try to preach to you.

To me, Christianity has not been the answer. It’s actually working against me with the stress on my mind. The fears that will come with leaving entirely. And the people who I love will possibly cut ties with me if I decide to leave for good. It hurts my mind to imagine these scenarios that might happen.

Now, again this isn’t attempt to dissuade you to keep believing. do what you want as long as you don’t harm others. But religion just doesn’t work for me anymore. I don’t see man made religion as an answer to purpose. I don’t feel the same hope and love anymore because of it. I can’t be myself without hiding big factors of myself from those I love. I don’t want to offend, but I won’t hide this much anymore.

These are just the thoughts of myself. I don’t blame religion for my depression. Many things contribute to it. but I would want people to see how I felt. How Religion can be good for some time, but also hurt you as well. I can’t be bisexual without being a sinful man in Christianity. I can’t be happy with myself without putting some imaginary man in front of me.

History of Suicide and What Depths I’ve Fallen.

I want to start this blog with a note that this is a thought provoking and sensitive topic. I’ve got a history of suicide and suicidal thoughts and struggled rarely with such. So I do warn to my reading audience what this has within it. And I’m going to begin with what made me realize how far I’ve fallen in my depression.

Here is how far I’ve gone.

What I’ve linked above is my note on Suicide Project. A website that gives any and all folk a means to write their thoughts and even an open website to write a suicide note. As disclaimed, this website was made as not only a suicide awareness website, but also something that holds no voice against the depressed or suicidal mind. I made a post after one late December night where I needed to write something. And unfortunately  I wrote it in the most self pitying way. But it helped me release my thoughts, which in a way inspired me to blog abut it.

“The Suicide Project is a website devoted to allowing people to share their stories of desperation and depression… and ultimately of hope. We hope that by allowing people to share their stories of despair with one another, they can find a reason to live, a reason to survive another minute. Another hour. Another day.

This is not a place to share suicide methods.

This is not a place to find a suicide partner.

This is not a place to preach the gospel.

This is not a place to post random stuff on random topics.

This is not a place to spout hate. Or to create drama with other members. Or to login with multiple accounts pretending to be different people.”

That late December night, I needed something to write. I felt so down and wanted to talk. Needed to say something. When I stumbled upon the Suicide Project. I was able to post my story. I was able to get some people to read my story. While it was not a suicide note, I was also certainly saddened that I had nothing good to say in that note. I felt the need to complain about my position and where I stood. How my self esteem was falling apart because of my living conditions.

In no ways do I aim to compare scars. As another person in my position could easily handle this better than I did. In truth, we all handle situations differently. At this time of my life, I was slowly getting worse. And it was this website that gave me an extra edge to push forward. I got people to read and sympathize, and empathize with me. I didn’t feel alone in my struggle. I even admitted the first time to attempting suicide here noted in the link above.

I don’t recommend you just use anonymous websites to vent your frustrations. As I grasped at anything just to speak. But it certainly helped me and even had me break down in front of my family about the issues I’ve faced and how my isolation of myself became self destructive. I want people to understand again, this isn’t to compare scars since we all handle situations differently.

In the past, I used to have a structured lifestyle. I figured this out when I began counseling earlier this year with my mother along side me. In Junior High, and High School. I had a lot of order in my life. I went to a Christian Church, Had an amazing Youth Group, and had my entire family pushing me to graduation. I had so much keeping me proactive and involved. This placed so much value in me that I didn’t realize it. I was happy as a child growing up.

But after graduation, all of that fell apart. I graduated not only school, but the youth group that did so much from fundraisers, to church plays. We even made silly music videos for christmas and mother’s day. I’d post them if I wouldn’t get a copyright claim immediately afterwards. By the time I was eighteen, I was put into a whole other world I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t have the order I became so used too.

I began working in Telepreformance shortly after graduating. Working as a Call Center Representative, I worked for Verizon and Xbox within that year. I didn’t get the working environment and met new folk that I never would imagine being with. Some people I worked with may have also reinforced the suicidal tendencies I’ve come across before.

A man named Marty was a Co-worker of mine. Both in the same training class, and worked till the Verizon segment was removed from our location. He had some pretty depressing views. He also was quite vigilant on the idea of drinking and later killing himself before he was thirty years old. Which at the time, he was twenty-five. I’ve never had anyone talk or even propose the idea. He was such a talented man too. He built computers, ran networks, and just had a great act for programming. As well as shared similar interests in gaming as well.

While we only worked together for six months, this man left quite a sad impression on me. And at that time, frightened me as well. He left a depressing note with me and did impact me. He was hell bent on the idea of living half his life before drinking it away. Giving the idea to a naive, eighteen year old adult like myself that the world is hopeless twelve years down the road for me. While he wasn’t a huge part in my depression now. I got this idea from him that would later become a vicious thought in the back of my mind.

Shortly after leaving Telepreformance before completing my year there, I didn’t have anything planned. Not only by the time I was nineteen, I have accepted personally I was bisexual. My church became so huge on the topic of homosexuality in their sermons, which at the time here in Utah legalized gay marriage. This began hurting me mentally that I was attracted to the same thing my church condones. Being a natural skeptic too, I began drifting away from the church. My attendance even today is still hinged upon my best friends from that church.

Unemployed, feeling ashamed of my sexual tastes, and now feeling the impact of my current position weigh upon me at home with my family. I began feeling worse and worse about myself. I can’t pay rent. I can’t feel welcome at the church when the sexuality I claim is considered the worst thing to happen in Utah. My self esteem began to deteriorate. I didn’t want to place myself in a position that didn’t help me at all. Which at this time, I was already questioning the bible’s integrity and passages.

Now, I don’t intend this blog post to be about my faith. that will be saved for a future segment when I dive into my past with this church and why I believe I’m not longer Christian, but a Deist in truth.

I have yet to disclose my bisexuality to anyone but my family, and two of my close friends. My church had yet to know of this. So I still keep that veil up and slowed my attendance now about here. My mind was just wallowing in self pity. I really didn’t know what to do or who to approach about my situation. I had a lot o negative reinforcement about my position. My mother and my step-father had nothing good to say about me lacking a job. Which only dug deeper into my already fragile mind at the time.

About around November is when I’ve attempted suicide for the first time. In the past, I’ve researched how to commit suicide. what overdoses did, what gunpoint can do. I found my parents’ 9mm in their room. And took it to my head. This attempt failed because of my lack of experience with guns. The safety literally saved my life. I never handled a gun alone before. I’ve gone camping and shot guns before. but not once has anyone let me hold any sort of gun alone.

My ignorance and lack of gun knowledge saved me from my first attempt. when I snapped back to reality about what I tried to do. I ran off, took my car and drove for hours. Bawling my eyes out because I couldn’t believe what I tried to do. Even today it makes me choke up for what I’ve done. But that wasn’t enough to motivate me to seek a solution to my mind.

Fast forward to January of 2015. I have my first mental breakdown. I face my parents where they yell at me with my lack of job and how I was doing nothing in the home. If I had a mind to care for at the time, I would have explained about all of this much sooner to them. But I felt guilt and shame, and knew how they’d react if I told them what I tried. I was so sick of being yelled at, and feeling so worthless. I decided to just leave.

I left on a sour note with my older brother. I told him he could have the car because I was out to commit suicide. He tried to halt me, and my mind had me bent on trying again. First on choking myself out on his arm that he held me back with. But then was convinced it was best to let me go. This was a cold January night. Likely -10 degrees by this time. I had only pajama pants and a thin coat on. I walked for hours on end. I couldn’t feel my arms or feet.

I don’t know where I walked. I was crying, and just venting. At this time, my family called the police and reported me as an endangered adult. Reaching out to any and all my friends and contacts who would know where I’d be. Which nobody knew where. I hate to say that I attempted to freeze myself to death at this time. I didn’t care and left on an impulse.

When I finally vented my mind, I didn’t go home. but rather I went back to my best friend’s house. I relayed all the things I’ve gone through and what I did to him. I never gave him  a chance to hold me accountable for the issues I’ve gone through. At least till now. I felt so ashamed, embarrassed, and guilty for what I did. For the pain I put my family through when I ran off into a freezing night. What was worse, how would I talk to my mom and step-father about it. How I dreaded speaking to either one of them.

My mom held an angry position about the situation. She was shocked, insulted, and didn’t want to believe I’d do anything like that. Not once in the family’s lifetime has anyone made the notion that suicide was the answer. but I went against that. she truly felt remorseful when she realized that the house felt nothing but negative towards my position and was even more sorry for not trying to understand my position but justifiably expressed her anger.

I owe her for the counseling I attend today. I owe her, and my step-father who convinced me to seek help. It took a mental breakdown to show the pain I was going through and even revealed to me how bad of a position I was in. Where I was readily eager to end my life. But also shows what values I still had to continue living. when I snap back to reality and feel ashamed for what I tried.

I want to end this blog on a message to my audience. From what you can read above, I have a severe issue of bottling my emotions. As a male in America, that is unfortunately the norm. To express these emotions is seen as weakness. My lack of social skills and as well as my position made me hurt. I could have easily fixed this situation if I came clean about my suicidal thoughts the moment I had them. But I bottled it down. I didn’t intend to burden anyone with such painful thoughts. I didn’t want people to feel half as worthless as I did at the time.

I highly want to encourage people to talk about their issues. Do not fear social normality. Or don’t be held to an invisible standard. If you have an issue, you need to speak about it. Mental health is such a fragile thing and the only way to fix our issues is to talk about them. To make our issues aware to others to find a way to treat or even fix them.

I thank you all deeply for taking the time to read all the way through this post. It’s quite extensive for my second post on this blog. I want to get my history out of the way to show where I’ve come from and what has led me to make this blog. I also hope it will aid anyone who comes across this and relates to it. If you feel or know anyone who is going through the same way. I would love to have this shared to them.

Thank you for reading ThoughtBlots and have a pleasant time.