Unconditional: Love, Abuse, and Survivor's Guilt

I have a message. I have a story I need to share. I need to share it with families and parents. I need to share it with the LGBTQ+ community. I need to share it with the families and parents of those part of the LGBTQ+ community. I need to share it with Mormons, Jews, Catholics, Muslims, Hindus, Pagans, Atheists, and Agnostics. I need to share it with my friends and family. I need to share it with my known and unknown enemies. I need to share it with conservatives, liberals, moderates, and the unaffiliated.

I have great parents. I want to state this fact early on so we can set it aside as we move through this together. I have great parents who have never abused me nor disowned me because of my sexual orientation. I have great parents who love me, not despite being gay. They just love me unconditionally. I have great parents, got it? Now let's set this aside.

Because I have great parents, I've been told by many gay people that I should feel so lucky, I should be so grateful, and I should act so thankful. I do feel lucky, I am grateful, and I am thankful. But you know what?

  1. The families and parents of the men who have so passionately told me those things have hurt me.
  2. And I have survivor's guilt.

This is my story - it's the story of a gay man growing up in a Mormon family who wasn't abused or disowned by his parents or family, but who has been in relationships with men who have been treated horribly by those who are supposed to be the most loving, and feels guilty about it. I have not been abused and I do not intend to discount the experience of anyone who has been. What I am doing is explaining how I relate to abuse through my own experience and trying my best to stop it from happening to just one person, just one family.

Abuse affects more than the person being abused and exists for longer than the finite amount of time the abuse may happen. Abuse infects the abused. It festers and grows inside of them. It influences every conversation, every relationship they have, forever. It fills them with self-hatred, doubts of ever being "good enough", and worry that abuse will happen again.

I have loved three men who were and are abused and/or disowned by their parents and families. Their abusive parents and families are at the heart of why each relationship ended. The abuse infected each relationship and ultimately killed it. It was a pre-existing condition in each relationship and I haven't been able to realize that until now.

The First Time

This all started when I discovered my new friend, who later became my boyfriend, was in the ER after being physically beaten by a family member because he is gay. I went home and sobbed to my parents about what happened. I felt powerless. He begged me to not call the police, so I didn't. I still regret it.

Anger by Can Balcı on flickr

Anger by Can Balcı on flickr

Later on, when this budded into a romantic relationship, the infection of abuse began to show itself through my partner's jealousy and extreme distrust. I will never admit I was or am the perfect boyfriend. I know there are things I could have done differently to quell some of this, but because distrust was literally beaten into him by someone who was supposed to love him, there was no chance of me "fixing" him. The infection was so beyond me and beyond our relationship that it was impossible to reassemble. It destroyed us in a fury of anger.

The Second Time

Alcoholic by Monica Dranger on flickr

Alcoholic by Monica Dranger on flickr

This new friend was in an emotionally abusive relationship when we first met. He wouldn't or couldn't leave. Instead, he would run away with me every so often and I would learn about his current relationship and his abusive family. I fell for him, and him for me. We eventually dated after years of courting. This time, the emotional and physical abuse he endured as a young man showed itself through alcohol and anger. He would drink and I would get yelled at. I would yell back. Two years later, he was drinking before going into work each morning and I realized my partner was an alcoholic that got extremely angry when drunk. This relationship had a violently chaotic ending where both his and my parents got involved. I look back at him calling his abusive father to come and "help" him as supremely twisted. My heart was shattered and I honestly thought I wouldn't survive losing him.

The Third Time

This new friend and I clicked so quickly that I didn't bat an eye when he said his relationships with his family were doing okay and were, in general, "not a big deal." Weeks and months went by, becoming closer and closer. I began feeling that all-too-familiar love for him. I happened to tell him about that love the week his "not a big deal" family began to actively and harshly insult, disown, and gossip about him. Saying the word "love" to him was either the best or worst idea I've ever had. Soon after, he came to me saying he couldn't do a romantic relationship with me right now because his heart is too broken over his family. He said he couldn't be his best self with me. He said he needed a friend. Wading through grief, I came out the other side agreeing. This relationship didn't end in an explosion like the other two. But he knows there's still time for that later. ;-)

"I Love You"

These men were all abused by someone who said "I love you." The distrust that grew and festered in them turned into an infectious beast that prevented them from trusting me when I said "I love you" to them. In fact, they were hurt by people in the name of love, by people who love(d) them so much, they were willing to become the villain to save their gay son, brother, uncle, or nephew's soul. This kind of love makes "love" the most confusing word on earth. So please don't tell me about my great parents that I know I have. Talk to me about my first boyfriend being beaten, my second turning to angry alcohol, and the third breaking my heart because of his own broken heart. My heart broke all three times. I'm not unscathed. The families of these men hurt me. Like I said before, I'm not eclipsing their pain, but showing you I have some too.

I am not sitting high nor am I sitting mighty. I actually feel shunned by my own gay community because I have this pain inside me that I'm told I'm not allowed to voice or feel because I'm so lucky. My gay community easily reflects, and even focuses, their familial and outward pain back inward to other gay people. The distortion of love is ruining the futures of so many wonderful people, but we only realize that when we decide we can't take it any more and need something to change. "How's that workin' out for ya?" "Not so great."

I shouldn't have to live part of my life fearing that the word "love" will trigger PTSD in a partner. It's not fair to either of us. It makes me so upset that this happens and that I have no control over it. I like to have control as much as anyone, and I also acknowledge that I only have control over myself - my actions, my words, and my self - but willingly relinquishing control of a situation is immensely difficult when feelings and words like love are in play. Because these men became so frightened of love, I haven't been able to fully express my love. It's like trying to describe experiencing a total solar eclipse - words only do about 20% of the job. When I have to stifle how I express my love, it is distressing and supremely frustrating. I've even been told by one of these men to not change how I expressed my love for them. But I'm not sure they totally understand how impossible that is. If I'm in love with someone, I'm going to do and say things with them that I don't say or do with a typical friend. It feels stifled. And I want to blame someone. I can't blame him. I can't blame me. I can try as hard as I want to blame his family. Sometimes that makes me feel better. But it usually doesn't. I can't control his family and I can't control him, so "blame" falls back on the only thing I have control over - me. But I don't want blame. Blame is negative. Responsibility? Maybe, but that sounds so sterile and too mature. Love isn't mature. It's not on the maturity spectrum. 

God Is Unconditional Love

We use so many different words to describe a singular idea: love. God, Higher Power, Divine, Christ, Allah, Almighty, Creator, Yahweh, Jehovah, Lord, Maker, Light, Earth, Sun, Sky, Gaia, Spirit, Father, Mother, and the hundreds more I've missed. The word you use is deeply personal and powerful to you. The thing that transcends all religion, creed, race, and location and is a single thread of commonality woven into each of these words: love. God is not just love. God is unconditional love. God does not "love the sinner, not the sin." That is conditional love and not of God.

If you're part of a family hoping their gay son will get scared away from a man who loves them and come back to you, admitting defeat, wanting your acceptance again, and hoping they want to be welcomed back into the church...think about the damage you've done to their brain. Why would you wish heartache on someone? Why would you wish pain? Why would you wish lost love? It's not about whether you "agree" with their "choice" (because being gay isn't a choice), it's about being a parent and having unconditional and "god-like" love for your child. Having unconditional love despite their gayness is conditional love. Unconditional love isn't "love the sinner, not the sin." In fact, unconditional love doesn't place the judgement of sin on anyone, ever.

Unconditional love:

man baby unconditional love.jpeg
  • doesn't attach strings
  • doesn't pose judgement
  • doesn't sling malice
  • doesn't harbor resentment
  • doesn't entertain anger
  • doesn't house hatred
  • doesn't possess fear
  • doesn't hold animosity
  • doesn't fling insult
  • doesn't abuse
  • and doesn't disown

I don't know if this will ever happen, but if the parents or family members of any of the men I briefly talked about above ever read this, I hope you've been able to put your pride aside and see not only the awful things you've done to your son and your family, but the pain you've caused the people that love/d him. There are reparations to be made beyond your son and far beyond me.

Forgiveness

Do you deserve forgiveness? Probably not. What you have done is truly the worst thing you could do to another soul: tell them you love them and intentionally hurt them in the name of said love. It is despicable, reprehensible, disgusting, offensive, vile, wicked, and just plain bad. And the thing is, the forgiveness I've seen asked for by families who have behaved in such a way isn't pure.

The forgiveness asked for comes across as 1) Ignoring: "Let's both agree to just ignore what happened. I'll ignore you're gay and you ignore I beat/hurt/disowned you, okay?", 2) Victim Blaming: "You know, if you would have just toned it down a little bit, none of this would have happened. If you wouldn't have advertised your sexual orientation, this wouldn't have happened.", and/or 3) Pity Party: "I had such a hard childhood/adolescence/time that I didn't know how to react. If my life wasn't so hard, I would have been better - woe is me, I have it so much worse off than you (the person I hurt)."

Would you forgive anyone who came to you with any of those attitudes? Neither would I. Sincerely asking for forgiveness is one of the most vulnerable states you could ever put yourself in. You'll have an idea you're doing it right when it's no longer about you and it's all about the person you've wronged. You're doing it right if you listen and understand why what you've done is so terrible. And you're doing it right if you not only say you won't ever do anything like it again, but you actually don't.

I Have Survivor's Guilt

Why did I survive and they didn't?

Why did I get great parents and they didn't?
Why did I get a great extended family and they didn't?
Why did I receive unconditional love and they didn't?
Why did I bypass abuse and they didn't?
Why did I leave the church so drama-free when they didn't?
Why did I escape suicide and they didn't?

I should feel so lucky.
I should be so grateful.
I should act so thankful.

I do all of those. But I feel guilt.

If there is one thing you leave with after reading this, I hope it's the realization that, when it comes to people's problems and comparing them to your own: If it's not one thing, it's another. We all have our own unique set of life experiences leading us to handle situations differently and feel situations differently. I know when the day comes that I'm rich that I will certainly solve my "poor" problems, but I'll be trading them in for other problems I can't even understand yet.

Even though I have great parents and don't have the abusive baggage so many in my community have, it doesn't mean I don't have my own issues and my own issues related to that same abuse, though not directly aimed at me. So, I'm going to own that I'm a Survivor. I'm going to own having Survivor's Guilt. I'm going to own the pain from those conditionally loving families. I'm going to own having great parents.

Betrayal

I thought I understood betrayal;
deceit;
hypocrisy;
abandonment;
withdrawal;
fraud;
let-down.
Then I grew up.

Life betrayed me that day.

Life stopped going the way I always imagined it would. It's life's fault I feel this way, not mine.
Life took away my love.
Life took away my home.
Life took away my security.
Life took away my clarity.
Life took away my god.

How can I possibly trust again?
Men deceive,
business is fraudulent,
home abandons,
friends let down,
meds withdraw,
and religion is a hypocrite.
Life betrayed me.

How dare Life not Live up to my grandiose, pies-in-the-sky, rainbows-and-unicorns expectations? Pies make a mess when they fall from so high in the sky.

Betrayal has left me bitter and begging for a breath of blissfulness in which my brain can bathe.

I did this to myself. Does that mean I can fix it?

"Drowning" by Mateus Lucena

"Drowning" by Mateus Lucena

You Find Out Who Your Friends Are

Some of you may find this sarcastic and rude, some of you may find this loving and sincere. You're all correct...it's everything, but I certainly have no intention to offend.  Sure, there is a slight "airing of grievances" feel, but it's just a jumble of my thoughts.
You find out who your friends are when they visit you regularly,
When they support you at your job by SPENDING MONEY to see your work's latest play or attraction,
When they don't complain about the price of your work's shows or admission,
When they don't ask you if they can get in for free or for a discount,
When they know your job title,
When they know what your actual job duties are (If you spend the time explaining them, that is.),
When they know your major,
When they know your minor...s,
When they come to Europe with you,
When they do all they can to go to Europe with you but just plain can't go,
When they stab you in the back,
When they leave and never come back,
When they leave without saying goodbye,
When they tell you all the things you do that drive them absolutely insane but let you do them anyway because it doesn't really matter,
When they won't tell you what's bugging them and keep it all inside until they either fade away or blow up in your face,
When they say "I love you,"
When they say "I hate you,"
When they call you a fag,
When they call you a bitch (or betch),
When they like your boyfriend so much they can hang out together without you,
When they put on a gas mask for you,
When they make a fool of themselves in front of you,
When they let you vent about your frustrations with the LDS Church and just say "I know! I'm so sorry!  It sucks!" rather than starting a fruitless debate,
When they accept a present from you,
When they fail to accept a present from you,
When they give you a present,
And when they ask you what you'd like for a present so you receive something you'd actually like to have.

Depression, Anxiety, Love...and Other Drugs

*tap*tap*tap*

*tap*tap*tap*

I can't write.
Why?
Well, the title pretty much explains it all.  It's also not vague in any way.

Okay, maybe it's a little vague considering I kind of copied a movie title a little tiny bit.

I have depression and anxiety.  Both are likely inherited (thanks, parents).  I have always been a rather anxious person.  I figure a large portion of my anxiety was actually learned and conditioned considering I grew up "different" and Mormon.  To say the least, that calls for a lot of nervous times.

Of course I have also been depressed at times...even suicidal.  But this time it's different.

Miserable Emptiness

Miserable Emptiness

There's no foundation to the sadness.  I feel an emptiness I believe could never be reconciled.  A void that could absolutely never be filled.  I don't want to do anything.  I don't want to move.  I don't want to talk.  I don't want to wake up.  I don't want to sleep.  If I sleep, I have to eventually wake up and...and...do something.  I don't want to see my friends.  I don't want to see my boyfriend.  I don't want to see my family.  It makes me sick.

I want to quit school.  I want to quit my job...s.  I want to quit.  I don't necessarily want to die, but I want to hurt myself so I can prove to you all how sick I am.  So I can prove to you how much I need to quit school...to quit my jobs...s.

I want to run away.  Running away will fix everything.  It will fix nothing.

I'm in love.  It's weird to be in love for the first time and also be extremely depressed.  And then to be taking an antidepressant that increases your anxiety five-fold.  I'm in love.  Why now?  What bizarre timing.

I want to run away...with him.  That will fix everything.  It will fix nothing.

I can't write.
I'm afraid to write.
I'm afraid to tell you what is going on with me.
I'm again afraid of being judged and having even more stereotypes hurled at me.

I want to run away.  I'll run until the pills, pills, and more pills kick in and fix everything. They'll fix nothing.

They won't fix me.
They won't fix my family.
They won't fix the business.
They won't fix my boyfriend.
They won't fix my relationship with him either.

I guess I have to participate too.

I want to run away.  I want to hide until I have the energy to help the pills.

They're so demanding of me.

MONO Lessons (Part XVII: 343 - 365)

Meditatively Obtained, Novel, and Observational (MONO) Lessons

343. Surprisingly, Lagoon is actually more fun picnic-style.

344. I miss her.

345. Even when I thought it couldn’t be done, they hurt me even more than they already had.

346. This must be what “I think I’m falling in love” feels like.

347. My past feels like someone else’s life.

348. Nutrition in this country is deplorable.

349. The Food Pyramid changed since I was in elementary school and nobody told me.

350. Another thing nobody ever told me:  You’re supposed to poop at least once a day!  This makes me unbelievably angry.  Why did nobody ever tell me this?!

351. Life is better when you’re regular.

352. When you’ve got momentum, ride it.  Ride it hard.

353. Photoshop CS2 is very…manual.  It’s like driving a stick shift.  I’ve never driven a stick shift, but I assume they are similar to Photoshop CS2…only completely different.

354. Wendover is like the cabin…only completely different.

355. Lagoon + Cabin + Swollen Glands + School Starting = Kidney Stone + 10(PAIN)

356. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between someone giving you a look of disgust and checking you out.

357. Low potassium increases one’s risk of kidney stones.  Why the HELL did nobody mention this to me?  I read this in my nutrition 1020 book.  1020.  You know what 1020 means?  Easy.  What is wrong with our healthcare system?!?

358. Hard decisions are hard.

359. When the momentum is against you, sometimes you can’t keep fighting it any more.

360. I wear my emotions on my sleeve…and my face.

361. I wouldn't do it again, but I would NEVER take it back.

362. I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life.  It’s overwhelming and a bit frightening.

363. A 'W' is better than not passing due to exhaustion.

364. Every time I read my nutrition book, I become more furious towards society and healthcare.

365. I’m not the only gurgler.

MONO Lessons (Part XVI: 321 - 342)

Meditatively Obtained, Novel, and Observational (MONO) Lessons

321. I like him.  I like him a lot.

322. I haven’t had the opportunity to be just friends with someone before dating them.  The transition is so pleasant and non-nerve-racking.  Natural, if you will.

323. I suddenly like the song “Head Over Feet” by Alanis Morissette…hmmm…

324. It’s even weirder to have completed Psychology of Love a couple of months ago and now beginning an actual new relationship.  Talk about textbook…

325. I CAN MAKE GLUTEN-FREE, DAIRY-FREE, & EGG-FREE OATMEAL RAISIN COOKIES!!!  Epic day.  07/11/10.

326. That woman lives her life through her pain-body.  How sad.

327. Minds can change extremely fast.

328. I have identified five collective pain-bodies in which I have a stake:

a. The American Gay (LGBTQ+) Pain-Body

b. The Mormon (LDS) Pain-Body

c. The Gay Mormon Pain-Body

d. The Food Allergy Pain-Body

e. The Gluten-Intolerant/Celiac Pain-Body

329. I find hidden Mickey’s in my everyday life.

330. I’m capable of sending and receiving an “It’s me” voicemail.

331. The past can truly be haunting.

332. “D-BOX” isn’t dirty, it’s just a vibratey seat!

333. When I like a movie enough, I can see it 5 times in 15 days.  Inception rocks.

334. Monday, August 30, 2010:  Kidney stone.  Worst.  Pain.  EVER.

335. Guess what?  Potassium, still only inching it’s way up.  I have far more blood tests than I would prefer.

336. If they changed their mind and “accepted” me, I don’t think I would go back.  The damage is done.

337. Clubbing is much more tolerable with a significant other.

338. Blogging is like therapy.

339. Protests and rallies are like therapy.

340. Wendover is so sleazy it’s spectacular.

341. Gambling is kinda stupid…

342. Saying “my boyfriend” makes me all giddy.  *sigh*