Friday, September 23, 2005

Rent In Twain

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I hate decisions. I have made some though, just incase some of you are wondering. I've decided that at present, I'm not going to do anything to possibly endanger my future membership in the church...keeping chaste is going to be my one-way ticket back into an independant situation; school. This isn't easy...There is an attractive 20 year old being dangled in front of me...many many many things in common...thusfar, I've only talked to him online, and heard his voice when I called him and got his voicemail. I've told him that at present 'I just wanna be friends...not looking for a hookup,' so there's no desperation to see eachother.

I think my meds are finally starting to work, in some ways, at least. I haven't been nearly as depressed these past 2 days as I have been for the last week or two, and for me, that's a big plus. I'll blame the drugs. I haven't really been too suicidal over these couple of days, but the thought of "this is a possible way of killing yourself" has popped into my head only a few times today. I remember...I was helping a friend load up her stuff into boxes, and talking about my suicidal nature. "I guess that I always thought that every teenager thingks about killing themselves." I guess not...oh well. Just another indicator that I was pretty depressed in High School, but didn't know it? It seems like all the ways that I can think of dying, by my own hand at least, would be dreadfully painful...gun wounds? being stabbed through the heart? having a heart attack from jumping off a building? hanging myself? drowning? They all seem far too barbaric, and far too painful. I suppose you can all rest assured in the fact that I'm a horrible wimp, and hate pain - therefore, the ideal way would be to have a train dropped on me, and squash me into jam. That'd be, I would think, relatively painless because it'd be so fast...but I'll change the morbid topic, lest I digress any further.

The reason I say that I hate decisions, is because I can't help but think that no matter what I do in this life, a monumental decision(s) is being lead up to. Either coming out, "staying straight," or killing myself. Only one of the dicisions lead up to my spiritual conscience being satisfied, one leads to no more physical problems, and the other is complete hedonism. All three are tempting, though the two 'living' alternatives are the currently preferred, I suppose.

Bah, I need a car in rexburg.....

That's all for now, maybe I'll continue this post later. I have been kind of rambling, and so I'll stop.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

This might sound really typical, but were you molested or exposed to gay porn as a child?

23 September, 2005 18:52

 
Blogger Peculiar 'Mormon' said...

From what I can remember, I was never molested as a child...but it could be memories that were pushed back, and repressed. I know at least one of my sisters was sexually abused at one point, but I dont know who by...the gay porn might have
happened though...I think I remember something
involving wereolves and penises (in the primary room
at church?)...something on a movie or something. I
really can't remember though. It's one of those
'memories' that is probibly just something from a
dream. Either way, it was extremely sexual.

24 September, 2005 02:26

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I think everyone thinks of suicide, just depends on how often. I guess thats how i figured myself out? You still dont sound very confident of your decisions though, but testing the waters is good. I hope things work out for the best for you. You know I love you and thats all I want to see happen.

26 September, 2005 18:23

 

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