Hi Guys,
Well this is my first attempt at a blog so I don't know how it will be. I think I'm just gonna keep this as a record of things that happen in my everyday life. To start with, I'm 22 years old and live in Salt Lake City. Yes, I am a Mormon. I moved here about four years ago to get to know my dad better, which at times hasn't been the best. I'm originally from Vermont and my parents are divorced. They have been since I was little so I remember almost nothing about it. All I know is that they hate eachother. Anywho, I have a brother who is 27 and a step brother and sister that I never see, not to mention the fact that I don't even get along with them. I grew up mostly with my Mom and stepdad, who I hated with a passion and still do. To make a long story short, I grew up watching my mom get beat up all the time by my step dad. My dad and mom constantly fought over custody of me and my brother so I guess you could say I didn't get that much of a normal childhood. The divorce was all over the news, in the newspapers, just about everywhere I turned. I guess that remains why my parents hate eachother so much even now. They still haven't gotten over the divorce and if you talk to them, its like they still live in 1986. Anyways, about when I was six my mom won total custody of me and my brother and we moved to Vermont with her, where she lives now with my step dad. We remained there for a while and during that time, my brother ran away from home and got involved in drugs, which he is slowly recovering from. I was raised as basically an only child after that, and when I was 13 moved to Florida, not my choice. It was about this time that I realized I was gay. Boy did this ever cause some rifts with my stepdad and mom, and my mom threatened to kick me out of the house several times. I remember growing up how my stepdad used to call gay people all kinds of names. He still doesn't understand to this day, even though my mom is coming around, alas, I have not talked to her for about two months now. Thats for another time.
I got my first crush on a boy in marching band. His name was Josh Garner Where are you btw... and I thought at the time he was the hottest thing alive. Anyways, while I was living in Florida I changed high schools 5 times and ended up spending six months of my senior year in Vermont and the other six months of it in Utah. Yay for moving. When I moved out here at 18 to get to know my dad after such a long time of not knowing him it was hard. He tried to show me his love and affection by buying me anything I wanted. Eventually I felt like I was suffocating and I had no choice but to move back to Vermont with my mom. On the way of me trying to get back, my dad showed up at the airport three separate times, begging me to stay. I told him he was crazy and had issues to overcome with me and my brother and our childhood, and told him on the third attempt that if he didn't leave me alone I was going to get security on him. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life. Getting on a plane alone, after you've been shaken up like that, in the middle of the night, and flying all the way across the country. Well let's just say it was an experience. I returned back home to Vermont, continued to struggle with my homosexual feelings, and came out to my mom several times. She threatened to kick me out of the house, because being raised a good pentecostal kid I was not supposed to be like that. Suprise Suprise. I told her about my first crush, and about all the other times I had thought about boys while living in Florida, and about how at that point I could not just be friends with them. I looked at them as potential dates all the time. I had to keep all this inside though because if my church found out about it, I would most definitely be going to hell. I remember in Florida crying and crying with the people I went to church with, but never receiving any relief from the feelings. It seemed like no one understood me, and the harder I struggled the worse it became. I tried to drown mysellf in marching band, school work, and the latest Britney album to take away the pain. Anyways, back to Vermont, I spent about a year there after leaving my dads, by the way, I just ran out on him, leaving the car, cell phone, clothes, college bills, etc for him to take care of, and called my best friend Jamie to take me to the airport right then as I told her I could not take living there anymore. She happily obliged and when I got out of the van at the airport, she hugged me goodbye and handed me a copy of the Book of Mormon and asked me to read it I went back to vermont and let the Book of Mormon collect dust on my shelf. Living back with my mom I was not supposed to touch or have anything to do with the Mormons, nor was I to read the BOM or anything related to the Mormon Church. Growing up as a pentecostal I had been fed plenty of anti-mormon propoganda, so I didn't touch it. Anyways, after living in Vermont for about six months, I got tired of working at a dead end job, so I moved back out to Utah to be with my dad, only this time I had decided and told him ahead of time that everything was going to be on my terms. I made that very clear before moving. The day after I got there, I came out to him. He was of course extremely shocked, telling me it was disgusting and that he didn't want to see it around his house, I was going to catch AIDS etc. He had caught me two times before however looking at gay porn on his computer, one of the times making me delete all the gay porn in front of him until it was all off his hard drive. Talk about humiliation. I went on my first gay date with a guy named Davin. At the time he was 26 and I was 20. As my dad was gone that week he's military and had gone somewhere I invited Davin in the house to meet my step mom before the date. She acted kind of ackward about it, and then Davin and I left. Also during this time, which was right around my birthday, I landed in the hospital in the psych unit. Davin and I broke up shortly after that because when we were together it was like a time bomb waiting to explode. We were both unmedicated and when one of us was in a good mood, the other wasn't so it was kind of like playing on a see saw all the time. I cried for months after breaking up with Davin. I remember one time he was having a bad day, so I took time off from work to be with him and we drove to Park City. He had seemed odd during the trip up and when we got back to the valley, we drove to Fashion Place Mall and he sat me down and very matter of factly said that he had been in love before and it didn't feel like this. After only dating him for a month I figured he was leading me on, but it still hurt like hell. It was snowing really bad outside, but we got back in Davins car and we drove back up to Clintonn, where his house was at. We just sort of drove around for a while and then he asked me if I wanted something to eat. I said sure. We ordered some drive thru at Wendy's and went back to his place to eat it. We just sat and talked a while and I cried and he cried about everything that had happened that day, and I asked him to take me home as I didn't feel like being around him anymore. He did take me part of the way home. We took a turn into a development that was still being constructed and then he told me he didn't want me to get out of the car. I didn't. Then we started making out, and of course, atleast for me, everything was in slow motion. I told him that we needed to stop and he needed to take me home, and then he said he didn't want me to leave. Anyways this escalated into yet another argument and I told him that I would walk home if he didn't give me a ride home. We were still several miles away from my house. I opened the door and got out, started walking in the blinding snow and then he told me to get back in the car, that he would take me home. At this point I had already had enough crap, so I told him no. He begged me to get in the car, which I did, and then he dropped me off at my house and went home. Everytime after that if I called him or he me, it was like two strangers talking to eachother.Our relationship had already been taken to the stage of being beyond repair. Looking back I realize that our relationship was nothing more than a cleverly disguised friendship which at its heart needed co-dependency to survive. A string of other relationships followed, and each time they ended the same way. There was Davy, then another kid I met at Area 51 and dated for a while only saying that because I can't remember your name. Sorry. I ended up being used for my car, gas, and transportation. Not to mention, especially in the case of Davy, sex pretty much whenever he wanted. I would spend many nights at his house and we would both get high, drunk, or both, and then I would go to bed and he wouldn't come in until like 5 in the morning, sleep with me for an hour , and then I would get up and go to work. I thought for so long that this was what a relationship was supposed to be, so I went along with it. One time we were both high and he didn't want to run out to the car to grab a condom, so we just fucked bareback. Again, I thought thats what a relationship was supposed to be, so I went along with it. Eventually I got into the club scene, switched jobs several times, and went clubbing almost every night after work, and returned home late in the morning to my dads house. Sometimes I didn't even come home at all, and didn't feel like he needed to know where I was or what I was doing so I never called him for days at a time. I guess this was the beginning of me trying my independence and trying to break away from the control of my dad. Eventually I did but that will come later. I found an apartment in West Valley, which I quickly moved into with the help of my dad and step mom, but shortly after that I lost my apartment and landed in the hospital a second time because I went off my prescribed medication I was seeing a doctor also and while at work thought the world was ending. That was lovely. I don't remember much except for being handcuffed, thrown in the back of a car, and eventually going somewhere where they asked me a bunch of questions I couldn't answer because I was so out of it. Suffice it to say I was hospitalized again and it took longer for me to recover. I eventually had to move home with my dad because I was in no condition to take care of myself, let alone pay my bills. I moved out of his house after that, because my brother had moved out here shortly before I landed in the hospital the second time. We were driving out of the mall having a discussion about how he was treating his girlfriend, she was in the backseat and I basically told him I didn't like how he was treating her and that he needed to stop. He didn't like this answer and hit me right in my right eye. It only took one punch, but blood was on my face. His girlfriend screamed and I called my dad and step mom, who didn't believe me at all. I went to the cops and they didn't believe me either. That was all it took for me to move out of my house for good. I packed all my stuff that I owned in the back of my car, and headed to a domestic violence shelter. The first week didn't work too well for me, so I asked them if they could transfer me to somewhere in Salt Lake that treated both men and women. I stayed there for six weeks while I got my crap in order, and then moved into Sky Harbor Apartments into a studio. I fulfilled the terms of my lease there and moved in with a friend. During this time I also went to Las Vegas to a gay bathouse, and when I got there at midnight, met a guy. We had sex for seven hours, because we both decided to get high on Meth and poppers it was my first time and if anyone with a brain knows what most people use meth for, its to make you super horny during sex. I didn't sleep at all that night, if you could call it a night, or any of the next morning. In the car on the way back, I got high on poppers, and when we stopped to rest in Mesquite Nevada, I gambled for two hours and flushed 80 bucks down the toilet. I got back to Salt Lake and a week later did meth again with someone I had met online. We stayed up pretty much all night that night, I would get up suddenly and black out for about thirty seconds totally forgetting where I was or how I had gotten there. I didn't go home until late that night and called into work and ended up missing about three days of work because I hadn't come down from the meth yet and was afraid I would lose my job if I showed up high. A few months later I met a boy online, we got along well, and so I made arrangements to go down to St. George to see him. I atleast thought we had a great time the weekend I was down there, but I hardly hear from him now. I have tons more to write but I think that this is enough for now. Peace.