I am reading back over some of my journals. It's like I wrote them in code. I think it was my way of protecting myself if anyone stumbled across my journals by accident. What a pivotal and timeless piece of information detailing the struggle I was having with my sexuality. I didn't think there was anyone who could help. I thought I was gay. Prayer even seemed to fall on deaf ears. I thought I couldn't share my problems with my parents or any of my friends. I thought they'd hate me. I wondered if I was going to hell. There was no one I could talk to. I thought there was no one who could help and that homosexuality was my fate. I was so deceived, but so many years later I see that Jesus Christ was the answer to my inner turmoil. I love reading back over these journal pages to see how desperate I was, but how God never deserted me. December 21, 1991
There is no way anyone who is not combating it can know what it is like. They may only compare it to their strong attraction for alcohol or some other form of addiction. Only there is no addiction stronger, no desire more unfightable. The impossibilities behind fighting are numerous. There is no way to win, it is always there like a temptation with magnetic appeals. No charged metal mind of our nature can resist such a magnet. You can fight forever and never have enough strength to beat it. Never have enough time before it tears you down so far that then is no back way out. And you are the only one that understands. You are afraid, but there has never been or ever will be a place to turn.
There is no greater pain than disappointing the ones you love. They stand around you all your life guarding you against all harm, but in the end they’re the ones that are against what you stand for. You hurt them because you can’t talk to them about it. So when they`re around you are thinking to yourself and you don’t talk. They think you`re mad at them, but you‘re not You're hurting without them, because if they knew they would hurt too and that would be more than enough. More than anyone needs. So in your quiet little words you mope, and dream of a better life. Your parents are so proud. You went to college and showed them that you are a good kid and you showed them you are smart. Then tragedy hits. Your life is in shambles on the inside. On the outside a little boy has everything normal children need for a normal childhood, But the baby inside is growing up to fight a losing battle and in the end, he will slowly die from it. And you know why? Of course not. No one knows and no one understands, but it happens. Shit happens. In the end, they are all ready to pass judgment, but while a life is burning in flames around them they offer no water for the fire. And it rages on destroying the initial life, singeing the hearts of those around. And the funny thing about the whole thing is that the people who are bystanders have problems, too. They find help. There's help for them. You bet. But there is no help, no solution for the puzzle my life has become. I've tried to figure it out. Alcohol, friends, even prayer Imagine that. Prayer didn't even work. Although it helped curb the urge for longer than the others. They say time heals all wounds. Yeah right. If time doesn't kill them first. You see time is something I don't have a lot of. I never have had. I would give up everything I own to be free from this burden. I'd run up and down the streets naked. But I can't, because there is no solution. I have tried and all has failed. My soul goes on in turmoil and the silence continues. Oh yes, the silence reigns.