I look back at 2017 and I get the sense that there were many years compressed into one. I realized it is because I was trying to be more mindful and quiet and I was not on autopilot. I didn’t try to distract myself from what I was thinking and feeling as often. I acknowledged my emotions better than I ever have. I even accepted the uncomfortable, painful and embarrassing ones. So much life that I would have hidden from or ignored, I enjoyed. I apologized when I was wrong and forgave when I felt wronged.
2018 will be filled with more joy because of what I’ve learned in 2017. Learning to practice meditation has been key in pursuit of peace. I define who my family is, loving someone doesn’t mean I can’t let go, love isn’t a reason to allow my heart to be hurt or used. I can love deeper and stronger if I take care of myself first and it isn’t being selfish.
I will continue to work on my mental health and feel less ashamed of my illness. I am going to continue to develop positive, healthy relationships. Keep investing love, time and energy into my wife and our family. And work harder than ever to put it within my power to protect my family from financial worry.



I’ve been struggling. Much has happened since last year that has had a tremendous impact on me. It has translated into an inability to keep from breaking down into anxiety.

It is so hard for me to accept that my strength and self-denial can’t overcome depression or a panic attack. My mind can’t bully my body into behaving this time. It isn’t easy like learning not to shiver in the cold or not feel hunger.

I hate the knowledge I’ve been granted about the existence of someone fragile and vulnerable that makes up a part of me. He has a need to be handled gently, kindly and with love. He wants to be able to rest and lay down his armor without fear of attack.

I have to acknowledge his need to exist alongside all my selves.


Self Loathing

Deuteronomy 21:18,21

My mother made me help her get my sister’s dog into the back of our old beat up 9 passenger station wagon and hold it back there. The dog and I were in the third seat that faced the back window. I saw our house fade into the distance as my mom drove many miles. Then there were no houses only cotton fields that seemed to grow right up to the edge of the world.

Suddenly, the dog and I lurched forward as mom pulled off the road and hit the brakes. She told me to put it out. I opened the door and pushed the dog out and told it to stay. I still remember the sad and confused look on the dog’s face as we drove off. I never knew if it was my sister or the dog being punished. I never saw the dog again either.




It happens in the early mornings drinking coffee in the gentle sun. Or when something beautiful happens, and I feel the need to share. I’ll pick up my cellphone then quickly set it back down, it hits me like a fist hard against my chest, my mother won’t answer my calls anymore.

She drifted away so slowly from me as the Jehovah’s Witnesses pressured her. Too busy to plan anything then missed calls and unanswered texts began the process of disengaging herself from me. I’d stop over, but no one ever seemed to be home. I never believed she’d genuinely shun me for being gay.

I tell myself, I’m an adult I’m not a baby that still needs her mommy. I don’t need silly Spanish lullabies or a hug as a safe harbor from a shitty world. I will create my own family circle where love isn’t conditional or something to be shamed over. Piece by piece I will remake my broken heart.


When my mother’s cruelest cut was to say, “you disgust me.” life would become a battle against my nature with scripture and spirit my sword and shield. God would be my coping skill.

Slaying my worldly thoughts and desires day after day. Self-inflicted cuts upon my own heart and soul were praised and honored. Flagellating my curiosity until I no longer questioned.

Lovesickness forcefully coming through my dreams into reality. My cry came unbidden, deep and guttural at what I’d discovered. Love more potent than fear of disappointing and causing shame. I committed to an authentic, truthful self.

Reborn, no longer shackled, no longer chained.

Reborn outside my mother’s womb, I am no longer her child.

I am no longer a child.



In a flash, I became conscious of your love’s searching touch upon my heartstrings. I believed myself impenetrable, of stone and steel, not blood and bone. Gently you’ve been guiding me considerate of my inexperience. Eyes locked, slowly you move with me, pressing me into your heart, your hand on mine. We will grow together, independent yet intertwined.



Me llegó el momento

That I’m able to quiet my thoughts through meditation, even when it’s only a few minutes at a time, has deeply affected my life and sanity. I don’t constantly feel a vague sense of hopeless unease. I’m able go longer between attacks by the mean voice in my head that tries to convince me that I’m worthless, stupid, unloved and unworthy of anyone’s friendship. I can sleep most nights without nightmares. I don’t stay up ruminating and regretting. I recognize that I’m enough.

How to Rescue Your Family from the Jehovah’s Witnesses? — Ex-Jehovah’s Witnesses-Critical Thinkers

This podcast discusses issues pertaining to how to rescue your family from the Jehovah’s Witnesses. When most people wake up and realize the real truth about the religion, they want to tell everyone. Because Jehovah’s Witnesses have been trained to shut down when others speak negatively about the Watchtower, Bible, & Tract Society aka JW.ORG, […]

via How to Rescue Your Family from the Jehovah’s Witnesses? — Ex-Jehovah’s Witnesses-Critical Thinkers


I want to shoot myself in the head. I am happy.

Those two thoughts constantly battle in my head. They exist simultaneously, and I feel them strongly. I wish I could kill the part of me that desires the silence and peace.
I am a coward. I was alone in my car going 90 if I could have just turned the steering wheel a few degrees to the right for a few yards I would have hit a concrete column.
There are invisible hands on top of mine guiding me, forcing me, holding me back.