Book 2: Chapter I
It's 2018, nearly twelve years since I last wrote something here. Last night, I opened up my old year books. Then, I opened up my old journals. I stayed up to 3am with Khalil reading them. I read aloud things I never thought anyone would read. Then I woke up this morning and found myself here. First I skimmed through the public LiveJournal. Took me a minute to remember the username, but I eventually got back into this account. It's 9pm now, and I just finished reading all 50+ chapters of my secret live journal, all the posts from my public live journal, all my journals, the one page of my Xanga that still exists on The Way Back Machine, and various scribbles in yearbooks. With all that fresh in my head, I wanted to write about it. I wanted to talk about all the changes that I have been through, the things that I have been fighting my entire life, and the patterns I notice with hindsight. And for whatever stupid reason, I decided to do it here, in a place where literally no one will read it.
Since my last entry, I have changed. A lot. Like, a whole fucking lot. More than I would ever believe. I'm a father now. Have been for close to 8 years (in September). I live in Portland now, and have been for six years I believe. I use more naughty words now, and I don't feel bad about it. I don't feel bad about a lot of things I used to feel bad about. I used to feel really shitty about porn. A good 60% of all my writing was negativity around sex. It's super depressing, TBH. That's a subject for a future chapter though. Lets move on.
I have a very different relationship with the concept of G-d nowadays. Back in 2006, I shoehorned in Jesus into almost every post. Everything involved prayer. I don't think of G-d that way anymore. I don't really know what I think about G-d anymore. I still believe in Gospel, but it's radically different than what 2004-2006 Ace believed. I believe in radical inclusion, grace that truly knows no bounds, and a much more humanist perspective on the relationship between the Divine and Us. I focus much more on the beauty in our existence, in the power of creation that flows through all of us. I see the spark of the divine in others on a much more tangible level than all the "messages from god" I used to think I was hearing. I wrote about them so declaratively, but I was so confused by it all. I never really believed I was speaking in tongues. I never really knew what "hearing from god" meant. Some might see these changes as terrible, but I am a much healthier, loving person now. The fruits are evidence or what-have-you. I don't freak out about the devil anymore. I don't blame my depression and self-worth on the work of demons. I see them as real struggles that take effort to work through. I don't pretend they just disappear because I had a Super Emotional Prayer Sesh™ with the boys, and suddenly I don't feel so bad about myself anymore. I have to be in it. I don't really know what prayer is supposed to look like anymore. Its somewhere between meditative self-reflection and keeping my eyes open to the real hurt in the world. I am much more willing to admit how little I know now, and I am much more content in the reality of it.
I'm 31, 312 pounds, and still dealing with a lot of the same shit I dealt with in 2006. I call it different things now, but it's still the same. I still don't like me. I still worry that I burden others with my uselessness. I still don't really believe that I have value. I don't call it lies. I don't call it the devil. I call it depression. I call it anxiety. I call it bad self-image or low self-worth. I see a therapist. A real therapist, not a Bible studies major wearing too many hats, dishing out bad advice to kids with the Capital A "Authority" of the creator of all things. God, did pastors pretending to be therapists fuck my life up. I am so grateful I made it out alive. I can barely write that sentence without thinking about Matt. Without thinking about how bad theology, bad community, and bad "authority" pushed such a beautiful human to end it all. I am still heartbroken about that. I am still fucking furious about that. I still can't talk about it in Therapy. I still can't think about it without crying.
I spent a lot of time feeling really bad about myself. All the Evangelical talk of "being unworthy" was not healthy for a young man who, even before his first Youth Group, was convinced he was garbage. I think that was a part of what attracted me to this, and it was definitely why I stuck with it for so long. I had to keep this image out there that I had it all together. That I was living right. And every time my actions slipped from what a "Good Christian Man" was supposed to be, it made me hide that down deeper. That created this false notion of "the real me" I keep hidden. This real me that is disgusting, depraved, and unloveable. I have this idea that anyone who says they like me, just hasn't spent enough time getting to know me. If I showed you the "true me" you would realize that I am a monster, and that you would no longer like me. That definitely started around 2004, and it's obvious all over my various prayers that I wrote in my journals.
I also noticed that whenever I would talk about how great falling in love was, I would use very specific language. The phrase I would repeat in every silly, lovesick entry in my handwritten journals was "I can't believe someone would ACTUALLY love me." I had been in Youth Group for over a year, and while I believed in the love of G-d, I never wrote about it. I wrote a lot about shame. I wrote a lot about guilt. I wrote a lot about the will of god and the purpose of god, but I had 0 entries about G-d actually loving me. And when I found myself in my first real relationship since sixth grade, I was overwhelmed beyond words that anything or anyone could ACTUALLY love me. Like all the declarations of love from parents, pastors, teachers and friends wasn't really love. I think that goes back before Youth Groups and Assembly of God. I think it goes way back, further than I can easily access. This idea that everyone is lying to me. I remember as a young child believing that I wasn't actually smart. That my parents were lying to me, and that I was actually in a special learning school that put on a show and pretended that the kids were actually smart. So, from an early age, I had this suspicion that people saying nice things about me was a lie. That I wasn't actually special. And somewhere, that crossed wires in my brain and got applied to love. So, when I fell in love with a girl, and she fell in love with me, I was dumbfounded that another person could ACTUALLY love this mess.
I have spent the last two to three years unpacking all of this in therapy, but its wild how powerful these journals have been. They have made me realize exactly how true the shit we have dug up is. Evangelical theology fucked up a kid who already didn't really believe he was ACTUALLY loved. Who didn't believe he was ACTUALLY smart. Who was convinced if anyone really knew who he was, they would be instantly disappointed.
In one journal entry, I wrote about losing a band tuxedo. It was the uniform we were forced to wear for Varsity Band. In it, I was super upset at an interaction with my Mom. I guess she was really pissed that I lost the tux. But, when I wrote the post, I didn't talk about her not caring about me. I didn't write anything about being mad at her or being upset at her reaction. What I wrote was that "I felt bad that I was causing so much stress in her life." I was mad that I was burdening her. I knew that if the tux got lost, she would have to pay for it. I knew that my parents were in debt and couldn't afford to pay for a tux their kid lost because he was too busy at Youth Group to remember it. So, this moment wasn't about parents not understanding. It wasn't a moment or rebellion or hate towards my parents. I felt like a burden to them. And I wrote that "Maybe everyone would be better off without me existing." in a journal I kept SUPER close to myself. I didn't say this aloud. This was my darkest, deepest thoughts about life. I didn't want to be burden. I felt like a burden. I felt like my actions- no, my existence was causing others pain, and I hated that.
So, I don't know how to end this. I just needed to write it all out. Maybe I will do it again. Maybe not. I am envious of Allison and her private journaling she does. But, I struggle to write by hand for long periods of time. My hands cramp up real bad. Maybe I will do it here. I wonder who will see it. Who am I kidding, I am definitely gonna tell Kyle to check out our old live journals.
Anyways. Fucking, here we go.
-Snowball or Murphy or Ace. Whatever. Doesn't matter.
Post Script: This is public. Book I is gonna stay locked down. Like, three people can see it, if they happen to come back here. I am not ready for that to be public. It's really embarrassing. I was an awful writer and it's a lot of rambling about the will of god. Maybe someday that will show up, but honestly I have no real plans to share this post with many. This isn't about that, at least not right now.
Since my last entry, I have changed. A lot. Like, a whole fucking lot. More than I would ever believe. I'm a father now. Have been for close to 8 years (in September). I live in Portland now, and have been for six years I believe. I use more naughty words now, and I don't feel bad about it. I don't feel bad about a lot of things I used to feel bad about. I used to feel really shitty about porn. A good 60% of all my writing was negativity around sex. It's super depressing, TBH. That's a subject for a future chapter though. Lets move on.
I have a very different relationship with the concept of G-d nowadays. Back in 2006, I shoehorned in Jesus into almost every post. Everything involved prayer. I don't think of G-d that way anymore. I don't really know what I think about G-d anymore. I still believe in Gospel, but it's radically different than what 2004-2006 Ace believed. I believe in radical inclusion, grace that truly knows no bounds, and a much more humanist perspective on the relationship between the Divine and Us. I focus much more on the beauty in our existence, in the power of creation that flows through all of us. I see the spark of the divine in others on a much more tangible level than all the "messages from god" I used to think I was hearing. I wrote about them so declaratively, but I was so confused by it all. I never really believed I was speaking in tongues. I never really knew what "hearing from god" meant. Some might see these changes as terrible, but I am a much healthier, loving person now. The fruits are evidence or what-have-you. I don't freak out about the devil anymore. I don't blame my depression and self-worth on the work of demons. I see them as real struggles that take effort to work through. I don't pretend they just disappear because I had a Super Emotional Prayer Sesh™ with the boys, and suddenly I don't feel so bad about myself anymore. I have to be in it. I don't really know what prayer is supposed to look like anymore. Its somewhere between meditative self-reflection and keeping my eyes open to the real hurt in the world. I am much more willing to admit how little I know now, and I am much more content in the reality of it.
I'm 31, 312 pounds, and still dealing with a lot of the same shit I dealt with in 2006. I call it different things now, but it's still the same. I still don't like me. I still worry that I burden others with my uselessness. I still don't really believe that I have value. I don't call it lies. I don't call it the devil. I call it depression. I call it anxiety. I call it bad self-image or low self-worth. I see a therapist. A real therapist, not a Bible studies major wearing too many hats, dishing out bad advice to kids with the Capital A "Authority" of the creator of all things. God, did pastors pretending to be therapists fuck my life up. I am so grateful I made it out alive. I can barely write that sentence without thinking about Matt. Without thinking about how bad theology, bad community, and bad "authority" pushed such a beautiful human to end it all. I am still heartbroken about that. I am still fucking furious about that. I still can't talk about it in Therapy. I still can't think about it without crying.
I spent a lot of time feeling really bad about myself. All the Evangelical talk of "being unworthy" was not healthy for a young man who, even before his first Youth Group, was convinced he was garbage. I think that was a part of what attracted me to this, and it was definitely why I stuck with it for so long. I had to keep this image out there that I had it all together. That I was living right. And every time my actions slipped from what a "Good Christian Man" was supposed to be, it made me hide that down deeper. That created this false notion of "the real me" I keep hidden. This real me that is disgusting, depraved, and unloveable. I have this idea that anyone who says they like me, just hasn't spent enough time getting to know me. If I showed you the "true me" you would realize that I am a monster, and that you would no longer like me. That definitely started around 2004, and it's obvious all over my various prayers that I wrote in my journals.
I also noticed that whenever I would talk about how great falling in love was, I would use very specific language. The phrase I would repeat in every silly, lovesick entry in my handwritten journals was "I can't believe someone would ACTUALLY love me." I had been in Youth Group for over a year, and while I believed in the love of G-d, I never wrote about it. I wrote a lot about shame. I wrote a lot about guilt. I wrote a lot about the will of god and the purpose of god, but I had 0 entries about G-d actually loving me. And when I found myself in my first real relationship since sixth grade, I was overwhelmed beyond words that anything or anyone could ACTUALLY love me. Like all the declarations of love from parents, pastors, teachers and friends wasn't really love. I think that goes back before Youth Groups and Assembly of God. I think it goes way back, further than I can easily access. This idea that everyone is lying to me. I remember as a young child believing that I wasn't actually smart. That my parents were lying to me, and that I was actually in a special learning school that put on a show and pretended that the kids were actually smart. So, from an early age, I had this suspicion that people saying nice things about me was a lie. That I wasn't actually special. And somewhere, that crossed wires in my brain and got applied to love. So, when I fell in love with a girl, and she fell in love with me, I was dumbfounded that another person could ACTUALLY love this mess.
I have spent the last two to three years unpacking all of this in therapy, but its wild how powerful these journals have been. They have made me realize exactly how true the shit we have dug up is. Evangelical theology fucked up a kid who already didn't really believe he was ACTUALLY loved. Who didn't believe he was ACTUALLY smart. Who was convinced if anyone really knew who he was, they would be instantly disappointed.
In one journal entry, I wrote about losing a band tuxedo. It was the uniform we were forced to wear for Varsity Band. In it, I was super upset at an interaction with my Mom. I guess she was really pissed that I lost the tux. But, when I wrote the post, I didn't talk about her not caring about me. I didn't write anything about being mad at her or being upset at her reaction. What I wrote was that "I felt bad that I was causing so much stress in her life." I was mad that I was burdening her. I knew that if the tux got lost, she would have to pay for it. I knew that my parents were in debt and couldn't afford to pay for a tux their kid lost because he was too busy at Youth Group to remember it. So, this moment wasn't about parents not understanding. It wasn't a moment or rebellion or hate towards my parents. I felt like a burden to them. And I wrote that "Maybe everyone would be better off without me existing." in a journal I kept SUPER close to myself. I didn't say this aloud. This was my darkest, deepest thoughts about life. I didn't want to be burden. I felt like a burden. I felt like my actions- no, my existence was causing others pain, and I hated that.
So, I don't know how to end this. I just needed to write it all out. Maybe I will do it again. Maybe not. I am envious of Allison and her private journaling she does. But, I struggle to write by hand for long periods of time. My hands cramp up real bad. Maybe I will do it here. I wonder who will see it. Who am I kidding, I am definitely gonna tell Kyle to check out our old live journals.
Anyways. Fucking, here we go.
-Snowball or Murphy or Ace. Whatever. Doesn't matter.
Post Script: This is public. Book I is gonna stay locked down. Like, three people can see it, if they happen to come back here. I am not ready for that to be public. It's really embarrassing. I was an awful writer and it's a lot of rambling about the will of god. Maybe someday that will show up, but honestly I have no real plans to share this post with many. This isn't about that, at least not right now.