Jason's testimonyGiven at the 1998 Evergreen Annual Conference |
|
Sharing this testimony is a very sobering thing, and I feel inadequate in doing so. I say this because it’s difficult looking back and putting together all the pieces of my life that have made me who I am right now; I also realize that there is a lot of road ahead. I’ve always had relationship problems with both men and women. My parents weren’t much help in the matter, because both were very controlling and manipulative. My father wasn’t around most of the time because he worked two jobs and had a drinking problem. My parents weren’t bad people, or necessarily bad parents. They were actually exceptional people, but also had exceptional problems. I remember that during the second grade I had loved sports, especially baseball and football. Of course at that age, neither my friends nor I were very good at the sports, but we enjoyed the challenge. I remember asking my parents repeatedly if I could sign up for a baseball team. Neither would let me join. They were afraid I’d loose interest in it, and they would have spent the money for nothing. They didn’t have any interest in coming to the games, and were afraid that it would be a great burden on their time. They also were afraid I’d get hurt. So, while the other kids my age were getting better at sports by being on teams and being taught by their fathers, I wasn’t. of course other people noticed that I wasn’t good at sports, and nobody wanted me on their teams at school. I was also teased because of my height, and the few extra pounds I’d managed to pick up. I began to long for shat my friends had. They seemed to understand each other in a way that I didn’t. During the ages of twelve and thirteen I was very preoccupied with these mysterious guys who always seemed to understand each other, but who to me seemed like some secret society that didn’t want outsiders such as myself. During this time the intrigue I had in men began to turn to fantasy, and the fantasy became stronger and more vivid in my imagination as the years past. When I was nineteen I became active in the LDS church after about 11 years of inactivity. Shortly thereafter I decided to serve a mission, and served honorably in the Arkansas Little Rock Mission. I returned at age 22 having not been able to shake what was to me a terrible curse. I’d never had a physically intimate relationship with anybody, but felt very guilty of the feelings that I did have. Within five months of being home,, I found myself looking for encounters with other men. I wanted so much to understand another man, and to be loved in return. I informed my Bishop of the feelings and desires that I had. He was very kind and understanding, and talked me into seeing a therapist who was well known for his accomplishments. Although he was a good therapist, he knew very little about this issue, and was convinced that I could not make much progress in overcoming same sex attractions. Needless to say, I didn’t find our meetings very beneficial, and quit after two months. I was very disappointed in myself and felt angry about what I saw as the cruel hand that I’d been dealt in life. I felt exhausted in a struggle of desiring to be intimate with men, yet wanting to be in harmony with Christ and his teachings. In August of that summer I determined that the only way out of the hellish existence that I lived in was suicide, and that today was the day. As I drove toward home, where I planned to carry out my intentions, I was prompted to check at yet another bookstore to see if I could find anything that could give me any hope of change. I searched and searched, not even knowing what title I’d be looking for. As I turned to leave, my eye caught the title of a book. It was “You Don’t Have to be Gay.” After mustering up the guts to purchase the book like this, I took it home and began to read. After reading the first two pages, I began to cry. For the first time I had found something that told me there was another way, and that there were other people who had found peace from this hell. Several months earlier my bishop had received mail informing him of an upcoming conference that helped people who dealt with SSA. We had determined to go to it together. The organization was Evergreen. I contacted Mike at the Evergreen hotline to arrange to go to the conference only to find out that it had already taken place a week before. I continued to talk to Mike off and on for that year while I waited for the next conference. During this time I’d managed to get involved, in and
out of, an unhealthy and very codependent relationship with another man.
When this relationship ended I thought it was going to be the end of my
world. I only had the strength to do the bare minimum of what was required
to survive. I slept about 13 to 18 hours a day and when I was awake, I was
in hell. I hurt so badly that I didn’t think it was possible to get better.
I learned what it was like to pray just to make it through the next five
minutes. That was the only time I felt any peace. I prayed constantly,
because I felt like it was my lifeline. I very slowly began to get better.
After the first few days, I was able to pray to make it through the next
half hour, then hour, all the way up to a day at a time. This was one of the
most difficult and sobering experiences of my life. I learned through this
process that I could survive great pain, greater pain than I’d ever felt. I
could only have done this by God being with me very slowly. This was a great
lesson for me, and holds very true today. I learn the most when God is
guiding me very slowly, and nurturing me along the way. |