Saturday, June 27, 2009

June 25th, 2007

Dear Journal,

It’s been a long week. On Monday I volunteered at the Church cannery and probably moved 6,000 cans of apricots in my four hour shift. Later, during the week, I got really depressed about having no friends and my struggle with homosexuality. So I called and talked to Bishop O. I tried not to cry when I was on the phone with him. But it did make me feel better. I need to persue making friends with Gunnar. I think he and I should make good friends. I’m just to creeped out to go to “Zumiez” in the mall and talk to him. Call it fear, stupidity, or maybe I’m nervous that he’ll see through me, see that I’m not a very good Mormon, or even that I’m gay. Fear. Discomfort. Anguish. These are the things that make me who I am. Am I really just an “underdeveloped” man who never developed his manhood and so he longs for the manhood of another? Or am I doomed by God because of some sin? Who knows.

Moving on, this week Dad had his Herb Walk this week, and it was very successful. Everyone seemed to really enjoy themselves and I seemed to be really liked by all the women who visited. In particular, Tanya from California. She seemed to really like me and she was a sweet old lady—I carried her backpack for her into Zion because it was hard for her to walk. She was such a trooper, I’m hoping to keep in touch with her.

Did a little budgeting today and I’m still wondering how I’m going to afford school. I imagine God will take care of me, especially as I have a testimony of the power of tithing and have been paying in full. This morning I ran for as long as I could at 8am. I couldn’t get far, but I’m going to try to get up each morning and run until I have to stop, and hopefully reverse my obesity. Wish me luck and persistence.

1 comment:

  1. I'm really going to be loving this. I hope you will too. It's such a great illustration of how far you've come in your life.

    You're starting to love yourself now. You didn't then. I'm glad of it. You're worth loving.

    ReplyDelete