MORNING GLORIES-An inventory, A venting, A diatribe, A realization, A life story

INVENTORY INTRODUCTION

In my youth, I would chop cotton every summer. The farmer was the father of a good childhood friend of mine, and a member of my ward/church congregation. It was back breaking labor, under the intense heat of the sun. There was a noxious weed that made our chopping ever so difficult. It was called a morning glory. Morning glories are a weed made up of vines. They entangle the cotton plant, from top to bottom. It robs the cotton plant of essential water and nutrients at its roots, and chokes it up to its top, making growth incredibly difficult. These weeds would severely diminish the yield of a cotton plant. The plant could exert so much effort, and try so hard, but if left entangled by a morning glory, it was left handicap. As is the case with OCD. It is quite literally a morning glory that has entangled my mind throughout all of life. It has diminished my life academically, socially, romantically, professionally, financially, physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. It has choked every aspect of my self.

Reading this inventory/life diatribe, it will become evident how insecure, frustrated, and angry I am. I feel like a cotton plant that has exerted so much effort, has had such resolve, to yield the few cotton buds that it has, yet is judged, labeled, and passed over by all the other cotton plants because of its lack of performance, the diminished harvest it offers. I feel surrounded by a field of robust tall cotton plants that yield twice the cotton I do with half the effort. I see these other plants as Prophets, Apostles, GAs, Stake Presidents, Bishops, peers from college, kids I grew up with, those “judgmental upper middle class professional kids at church”, that at one time were the “judgmental well to do kids at BYU”, and even siblings and parents. In my hurt, struggle, failure, and pride, I resent these other cotton plants. I resent them labeling me, I even resent them giving me counsel often, because when I look at their position in life, their timeline in life, it’s obvious a morning glory hasn’t been entangling their minds since the day they were born. I find myself resenting successful members of the church, be it professional athletes to business men. It’s pride, pride that planted a seed in failure and rejection, and has been growing for almost 20 years.

I wonder, “Why can’t I have their life?” I actually find myself asking why quite often. Asking, “why God, why am I a struggling cotton plant entangled by a morning glory?” Yet here is the irony. That same cotton field, with those same noxious morning glories, provided the means to purchase my first drum set, and drumming seems to be one of the few things I can actually do well. Through the drums I have discovered the avenues of concert promotion and

also teaching drums. I hope and pray, music can be an avenue where I can escape the vines of a morning glory, even OCD, and hopefully, hopefully, gain some semblance of independence and success in my life, and even by a miracle marry some organized, attractive, fun girl. But even in music, OCD creates a smaller box than those around me I’m able to build a career in. Life is hard.

This is a summation of my life up to this point. It goes into great detail about all my hardships. There are some unexpected rants I go on, a lot of venting. Sometimes I repeat these rants, like I’m a broken record. Sometimes I’m spiritual, and then I’m angry again in

the next paragraph. I would add to this diatribe when getting frustrated wherever it seemed appropriate, beginning middle or end, so that’s probably why it doesn’t flow perfectly.

OCD, Church, and authority, they don’t play well together in my head. There might be some typos. This was a therapy exercise, not a paper I wrote for my English teacher. There is an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. I teeter back and forth depending how life is going. When it’s hard, and it seems like it’ll never get any better, I brood, the little devil I listen to. When I have hope, or a little success in life, I listen to the wisdom of the angel on my other shoulder. I’m trying to listen to the angel on my shoulder, whether life is good or bad, in the midst of failure or success.

Right now, I feel my life, my future, and my salvation is 50/50. There are weeks I feel exaltation bound, and then there are weeks when I feel I will in no way make it, and am going to spend some time in hell. There are weeks I want to try, and then there are weeks I feel my efforts are futile, that the emotional, psychiatric, and dubious financial currents are too strong for me to swim against, so I think of church inactivity, having casual sex with women, and working as like a door guy at a Vegas club, fair pay and chill work. Being a gatekeeper for the great and spacious building in a sense, looking at all those pressing forward along the iron rod toward the tree of life, not pointing and mocking them like others, but looking at them in sadness and resentment, because I never felt talented or good enough among them, though I wanted to be.

I feel like a leper, a marginalized special case member of the church. I know that’s sad, but I often feel that way. I find myself asking, “God, those leper’s in the scriptures, what was the point of their life? When God was giving out mission calls for mortality, some unlucky spirit was called to the “outcast leper mortal mission,” while others were called to the

white picket fences, healthy body, healthy mind, all the opportunity in the world mortal mission. Why?” Your prophets and apostles, they weren’t ever lepers. Just because they have led the most exemplary lives, doesn't mean each had to lead the most difficult lives. Some spirits are called to be beat, abandoned, abused, trafficked in the sex trade, with little semblance of hope. Why? When people are wealthy, with all the means in the world, it really behooves them to use those means to provide hope and support to the downtrodden. Having been downtrodden myself, I know I would.

I know it’s obvious life doesn’t offer equal opportunity to everybody. It’s obvious life is incredibly unfair. My life has been that way. Some soul has to be born into the body of a Tyrant's son, or into a situation with a father in jail for life and a mother strung out on drugs. Then there are others, born into bliss. Why? It is almost certain people born into

situations surrounded by substances, crime, sex, and jailed parents will grow up to be substance abusers and criminals.

When a tyrant's son grows up to be a tyrant, is anybody surprised? When a child is born into bliss, responsible loving parents and a balanced brain and healthy body, and they grow up to be honest and successful, is anybody surprised?

Life isn’t fair, but is exaltation fair? Do all souls have an equal chance at exaltation, as judgement for the child born into bliss, and judgement for the child born to a tyrant have to be completely different. I know we all have the light of Christ, but it becomes fuzzy when every single influence in an individual's life goes against that light. I remember as a child, my

parents were law. I just accepted their views and behavior as law, be it good or bad, they were my moral compass. Now that I’m older I possess greater knowledge and agency. I just see a pattern. Bad creates bad, good creates good, and so on. I just don’t want to think there is luck associated with exaltation. I would like to believe, a tyrants son, and a

preachers son, both have an equal chance at exaltation.

I went off on a tangent. This will happen repeatedly in this life story. Obviously I want to live find peace somehow, overcome my problems, and through a miracle get married. Ideally I would find a woman who can read this, and have an understanding about my life, and a desire to work with me despite this debilitating cross I’ve carried my entire life called OCD, and will continue to carry. Ideally I’ll think she’s fun, attractive, and compatible. But I look at my life, my past, my finances, and my debilitating weaknesses, and wonder, “What girl would want me, what girl would actually want to work and have patience with a guy like me, that has struggled so severely with such debilitating problems?” I am not a sure thing, anything but a solid bet on a girls part. What father in law would find any peace in their daughter marrying

me. Depression, anxiety, psychotic depression, scarce finances, and all too often trips to the bishops office, that’s what a father in law would be looking at.

I look at my maternal uncles, one is a single schizophrenic, and the other was neurotic, separated from his wife, and died at an early age because of stress and conflict. I myself carry a lot of stress and conflict. My maternal grandfather (the genetic line that gave me my mental and emotional problems), drank, smoked, and had morality issues. He had a rather tenuous relationship with my grandmother, and from what I know, not what I would consider a healthy strong marriage. I seriously wonder if I could ever actually handle marriage and a couple kids, as I have the same genes and issues of all the men in the maternal side of my family. I wonder if I could have a career with all my problems. It scares me to think about marriage with my issues. I see the stress involved in marriage, with my parents, sisters, and

brothers, and I seriously doubt my ability to handle that stress, to handle the stress of having a kid or two.

But it also scares me to think about a life alone. I feel caught between a rock and a hard place, damned if you do, damned if you don't.

Faith in the midst of pain and uncertainty, that is what I need, and that’s when people actually exercise faith. When life is easy, faith isn’t exercising, it’s taking a break. Only semblance I take, and can take, is knowing God loves me, knows my desires, and knows my

struggles perfectly.

(WRITTEN PRESENT-2024)

After I read this, I realized I've come a long way, with still a ways to go, but I can honestly say, the angst, and anger, they are leaving, very much so.