Posted by:
anon for this ya'll
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Date: January 25, 2013 05:21AM
So, I've officially resigned from the Mormon church since 2008. Since then, it's been a bit of a crazy ride. I do hope people can take this thread seriously, I am not a disguised Mormon trying to turn heads or whatever, this is my story, there's a lot of shame and embarrassment to it.
Let me give you a picture here. Right now, I'm 23. Growing up (in the Mormon church with a Mormon family), when I was really little I was a more athletic kid but a very mean, short fused person. My parents put me into therapy which helped, and we ended up moving to a small town where the only academic option there was football vs gymnastics.
Moving to this new, very small, Mormon majority town (Monticello), things changed. I was still a bit violent, picking fights when I could, but ultimately that kind of behavior stopped. Without a true outlet, I pined for some sanity from the outside world and to be away from the small town bullshit. I started turning to the Internet, trawling forums, chat boards, trying to find people I had a common interest in.
I also started getting into video games. My dad brought home a Nintendo 64 with a copy of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time one day. Before that, we had our SNES and a few platformers here and there, I could still balance myself from going outside to play and video gaming. This game changed me (unfortunately) - I was immediately sucked into it's world. I couldn't read very well at that point, but this game made it my priority to enhance my ability to read. I managed to save enough money for a Playstation and started investing time into games like Final Fantasy VII through IX, Legend of Dragoon, and more.
It was really all I could do to start escaping the mental prison of growing up in such a town. I would be teased relentlessly about liking Zelda, being called a @#$%&. What did they know? I wasn't one of them.
My game collection grew in high school, as did the separation from my peers. I couldn't find anyone to relate to, trying desperately to belong to the others that didn't seem to belong themselves. They had their reasons to hate me, and I had mine to hate them. We all knew our place.
That started to change. My dad was the principal at the time, which in itself stops you from doing half the shit you want to do ("Smoke weed today? Potentially ruin my dad's career? Nah, I shouldn't"), but also keeps a lot of eyes on your family. It wasn't bad enough that I said "Fuck you" to seminary (it was this time that I had my doubts in the church), because the next thing I know my parents are on a potential divorce. I was the oldest kid at the time with three younger siblings. They hadn't any idea what was happening until my parents announced it (toward the end of the ordeal) - I got to be right in the middle of my fathers drunken crying, their arguing, and me shielding it all from them. There was a point where my father was gone for days, until finally calling home to tell us he had been considering suicide.
So, my mother convinces him to come back, and I assure him that I'd love him no matter what. He had the idea that he could just start over in a town an hour away and my mother could stay there. This is something that will never leave me - at the age of 16, I was forced into a situation where I had to join my father. Because, for fucks sake, he was just out contemplating suicide. My mother tells me, "Fine, go with him. I guess you love him more". These days, they are together and I love them all... But it's something like that that doesn't leave you.
Our family did end up moving to that town an hour away. I remember the last day of school that year, all the kids who had made my life a living hell telling me how much they'd miss me and how funny and great I was. They didn't know me. I wish I still had my fighting spirit at that point, and I'm surprised (given the events prior) I didn't snap.
We move to this town. I don't know the rules. I just want to finish out the last two years of high school. I do it completely alone, not knowing anyone, and people wondering why I never seemed happy, why I didn't talk to anyone, why I never smiled. The last two years of high school are a blur outside of some classes because I literally did nothing outside of be dragged into a promenade (and promptly leaving once the dancing was done). All I could feel was hate.
I graduate. I keep playing video games. I try college, get a loan, and keep playing video games. I try to ignore my room mates outright because they are either uber Mormon or into heavy drugs. I keep playing video games until I drop out.
I live with my Mormon grandmother for 2 years in Brigham City doing a trade school. She cannot respect my personal space, constantly worries about where I am (even though I'm 20 god damn years old at this point), and shares her testimony constantly. "Just get through this, just get through this".
At this point I actually did meet a girl. We fucked a few times. I thought we were in love, but apparently not because she dumps me. All the trips from school (Ogden) to home (Brigham) to her (Logan), guess they didn't fucking mean shit. Like me.
I finish the trade school. I immediately get a job at Unisys in Salt Lake City doing a graveyard shift with 13 different companies for tech support. I feel like I'm finally going somewhere, living without too much support from my parents. I finally feel liberated.
Within the first month of living with high school acquaintances on Sugar House, I have to call the police on a room mate threatening suicide. During this month I start picking doing marijuana with the room mates to try and socialize and not be completely alone.
I take up a Craigslist offer in Murray to live in a family's home, in their basement. One time, while driving to work, it wasn't too long but it felt like slow motion to me - on the freeway, where it starts to rise, I saw a man get out of his car, climb over the guard rail, and disappear. One time while driving home, I was in a left turning lane - a car to the lane on my right slams into the car in front of it, and I (not meaning to) saw the aftermath. My boss was in a very sad mood one day, telling me about how his friend recently killed himself. A room mate in the basement one day tried to commit suicide with alcohol and sleeping pills, after which we all had a month to move out (I don't blame that family). I don't know. I just don't know what the fuck anymore at this point.
There is another acquaintance from high school who recently moved up a few blocks from where I was and was looking for room mates. Very convenient. We started the weed again, and I started drinking. It seemed like there was a party just about every night while I was gone. I wasn't liking my job, as the company decided to fuck us as hard as they could. I wanted to start my drug journey with some mushrooms a work colleague sold me - he didn't bother to tell me they were acidic.
I tripped hard that night. I was convinced that my room mate, who was known to show off his shot gun while drunk, had killed everyone at the party and I cried in my room, quietly begging for my life. I don't remember all of the details, but I woke up with both eyes red in different spots, like I had burst veins. I couldn't do it anymore. I realized this whole time that my fixation on death was me wanting to kill myself.
I end up moving back in the with parents. It's been about a year now, I've been invited every often to either partake in drugs or with the singles ward. I don't have the huge urge to kill myself like before, but it still comes up (like tonight). I don't act on it.
All I feel is shame. I feel like I can't go outside anymore. I'm addicted to Internet forums, and, sadly, pornography. I know there is more to love than sex but I feel like I've confined myself to this position where hopefully I'll have a heart attack in two years and die.
I'm still in Utah. I can't find a middle ground here. Either people want you to join the church and immediately become disappointed in you for not going on a Mission and never being good enough, or want you to get in on their next high. I don't want to go outside anyway because I am ashamed of my body and how it's gotten to this point. I don't want to play video games anymore - I have this stupid collection and I really only hop online to play one these days.
I just want to feel love again. I want to have a place to exercise without being judged. I don't want to depend on drinking soda every day because "it makes me feel better", when I know deep down it's just killing me quicker. I don't have money, and my parents seem keen on making sure I'm full with extra helpings.
I can't do this anymore but I don't know what to do. I've never left Utah and whenever I bring up the fact that I want to go, people keep telling me it's such a biiiig and scaaaary world out there (THEY HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA ABOUT THEIR OWN BACK YARD, THEY'VE NEVER BEEN TO ROSE PARK) and how sad they'd be to see me go when I know I'd be happier out there. I know moving wouldn't immediately solve every problem but there just seems to be more potential there than either working up in the Mormon club or the street club.
I just need help.
tl;dr: I'm a fat 23 year old who is socially unacceptable / unappealing and cannot seem to join back into society. I want to move out of state but am too ashamed to even leave my room.