The Letter

I was going through my desk today, and I came across something I didn't know I had anymore. It was a letter, written on delicate kitten stationery in June of 2020 on the day I decided that I did not want to exist anymore.

I remember the day I wrote that letter so well.

There was no intention to write a suicide note when I sat at my desk that day. I had intended to write a letter to my grandmother or to a friend, but as I sat and stared at the paper everything suddenly felt so pointless. I had been fighting for so long, and I was so tired. I poured out my heart for two pages, sealed the letter, put it in my desk and called a therapist. The letter was my insurance. If I could not get better, I would simply put it on my bed and disappear.

But I didn't disappear. I healed. I lived.

And today I read the letter that I had intended to be my last.

"Hi...

Do you ever get absorbed by the idea that everyone you love would be happier of you slipped out of their lives? Lately that's all I can think about. There always seems to be too much of me. I'm too loud. I'm selfish. I'm bad-hearted and I take up too much space. People want to push me away. I want too much. I am too much..."

My heart is broken for the person that I was on that day. I was convinced that I was too broken and flawed to be loved, and that I was never going to be whole because I would never be as perfect as God wanted me to be, if he even existed. I did not believe that the church was true, and I was still afraid that this was going to condemn me to hell. I believed that my lack of faith was a fundamental flaw in the way I was created.

I was too much and not enough. Too queer, too full of doubt, not strong enough to believe in God without failing. 

"I don't want people to miss me. I'm not worth missing.

I'm not who people think I am... there is ugliness in me."

Therapy was so hard.

My therapist had me write down three things I was capable of every day. She made me examine the strengths I did not believe that I had. She had me tear myself open and  put myself back together in the way I was meant to be built. She helped me realize that my relationship with the church was abusive. She showed me that the box I was living in had a door, and that there was space for me to be bigger outside of it as soon as I was ready to take that step.

"You will find other people to love. People who genuinely sparkle. people who will be everything you need them to be. I'm not her. I can't be her. I've exhausted myself trying.

I have nothing left to offer."

My body fell into healing painfully as I threw myself at the walls of the prison I had not realized that I was in. I was not ready to open the door, and I knew that I no longer fit inside, but this box was everything I knew. It was family, it was home, it was culture and future and promises I had made for rewards I didn't even want. Sometimes the safety net is also the noose. Finally, it was time: I took a deep breath and stepped outside.

One by one I let go of the things I was afraid of losing, and found that not everything was lost. I still had home and family, and I found new found family to fill in open spaces that were suddenly available for me to explore. I left the church, and found a peace that I had never felt once in my 30 years of Mormonism. I discovered that I still had a future, and that it could be anything I wanted it to be. It was like breathing for the first time. It was joy.

My healing journey is not over. I still have so much still to unravel and it's never going to be an easy process, but when I look back at the person who wrote that letter in June of 2020 I see someone who still ended their letter with "I love you" in spite of the fact that they did not believe they were worthy of that same love. I see someone who was capable of more growth than they ever thought was possible, and someone who used that seed of love in their heart to plant a life they never imagined they would have. They fought and they won, and I am so proud of them. I am proud of me.

I was afraid that when I read that letter today that it would make me spiral, and that I would lose myself to the person I used to be. Instead, however, it helped me realize that we are never without hope. The sun is still shining somewhere, and morning will always come - we just need to reach out for a hand in the darkness.

The number for the United States Suicide & Crisis Hotline is 988 - please reach out if you are experiencing thoughts of suicide or self-harm. You are not alone.

Where She Was Planted

This is something that has been dancing around in my brain for quite a while, and the time seems ripe to get it all out. It’s been a long time since I have written anything for anyone else to read, so if this is a little bit rusty, I apologize.

Gonna spill that tea

Yesterday I was on Twitter, and I came across a beautiful article that was written by Matthew Gong, the son of LDS apostle Gerrit W. Gong. Matthew Gong is an openly gay man, and his words reflected the complexity of being caught between two identities. This is something that I know a lot about.

Six years ago (almost exactly) I was sitting on a couch with my best friend, and I looked at her and I knew that I loved her. Loved her – full on, butterflies in the stomach, heart pounding out of my chest love. Suddenly a whole bunch of things in my life fell into place – feelings that I had never given attention to, things that I had tried to hide for years, all came bubbling to the surface all at once. It was like I was truly seeing myself for the first time. I was overwhelmed, and I turned to her and said, “Hey… I think I’m bi.”

“Oh honey, I know.”

From that minute it was like there were two of me: Mormon Kari, and proud LGBTQ+ community member Kari. Never out of the closet, but never really in it either. I was in constant flux between two worlds that felt like they couldn’t coexist. No matter what I did if felt like no one would want both parts of me. I was constantly carving off parts of myself to fit into boxes where I didn’t belong, always leaving something behind and never feeling like a whole person. I felt lost and broken, and I felt like God was drifting farther and farther away from me. I felt like no one could love this incomplete person, even Him.

I know that I did not love myself.

Last winter I fell into a deep depression. Something inside of me snapped, and it threw my entire world from its axis. I had to take an entire month off work while they adjusted my medication and gently coaxed me back into the land of the living. My brain felt like broken glass. I barely remember anything from Thanksgiving to Christmas of 2018. I was just existing.

When I started to come back into myself, I knew that I needed to start living my life authentically or it would literally kill me. I started to spend more time reflecting. I reached out to other members of the LDS Queer community and leaned on them and learned from them (you know who you are, and I will love you forever for this). This summer I came out to my parents. It was terrifying and hard, but I knew in my heart that it was something I needed to do. I quietly stopped hiding things about myself on the internet. And now I’m coming out (officially) to all of you.

People have told me that this is going to make my life harder, and that people will see me differently. I feel like I knew that from the beginning, but I’m not scared of it anymore. I want people to look at me differently, because in all probability I am a little different from whatever version of me they were seeing. I want people to know me for everything I am, because I like myself better this way, and I really hope they do too.

Right now, I am still focusing on restoring things that I lost. I am re-learning how to talk to God. I have poured my heart out to him and felt confirmation of his love for me – ALL of me. I have realized that there are not two sides to me, but a very complex whole that is worthy of love and of loving. I am taking baby steps and trying to learn to be gentle with myself. I am trying to unlearn toxic coping mechanisms that held me prisoner within my own self-hatred for years. Not every day is a good day, but it’s always getting better.

I am a child of a God who loves me. I am bisexual. These are two things that I know and that I can’t deny. I am growing in the complex soil in which I have been planted, and I am finally thriving. I hope that when you read this you feel like you know me, and I hope you know that I love all of you. Thank you all for your love and your support. Thank you for lifting me up, even when you did not truly know the weight that was crushing me. I have been blessed so greatly, and I honestly cannot express enough gratitude.

To anyone who feels like they are hiding – I see you. I love you. There are other people out there who will love you, too. There are people with whom you will feel safe. It’s never going to be an easy road to travel, but there are people who will hold your hand when you feel like you can’t take another step. Be kind to yourself. God loves you. He made you. He knows your entire heart. Do not be afraid.

Thank you for reading.

Keep thou my feet

Lead, kindly Light, amid th’encircling gloom;
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene—one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor pray’d that thou
Shouldst lead me on.
I loved to choose and see my path; but now,
Lead thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years.

So long thy pow’r hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone.
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

~~~

Life gets really hard to deal with sometimes.

Lately I have felt like I have been walking through a very dark night of my soul. One where I feel like I have lost sight of who I am and who I want to be. One where I hate who I have become, and one where I long to be better but can never seem to overcome myself. I have just been feeling very lost and tired and sad.

This week, and today especially, have been very difficult. I reached out tonight for some positive words on Facebook, and my friends responded with so much love that I am completely overwhelmed by how lucky I am to know such lovely and wonderful people.

One friend sent me something he wrote that featured a scripture from Proverbs (3:5-6):

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

Which immediately brought the hymn "Lead, Kindly Light" to my mind. Particularly the last lines of the first verse. 

"Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene—one step enough for me."

I have forgotten how to be led by faith. I have been depending too much on the things that I can see, and I have not been putting enough trust in God's plan for me. I want to be better, and I want to let him lead me now. I'm so tired of trying to understand everything. I just want to be happy and have faith and trust that everything will be okay.

I'm feeling very humbled tonight. I'm starting to feel like this might be a trial that I need, even though I'm not sure where it's going to lead me.

I'm ready to walk into the dark.

Lizzie Lanore

My grandmother turned 90 this last Wednesday, and today we had a big party to help her celebrate!

Guys, my grandma Lizzie is one of the most wonderful, adorable people I have ever known. She was the kind of grandma who would let you build a blanket fort in her living room (using all of her kitchen chairs), and not even mind when you crawled into bed with her later because you were too chicken to actually sleep in it. She always sent a card in the mail on your birthday, even when you lived close enough for her to just bring it to you, because she knew how special it was to get real mail when you were a kid. She taught us how to crochet and bake cookies, and she would yodel on request (if you asked nicely). She used to grow mint under her back porch, and she showed us how refreshing it could be to pluck one of the leaves and put it on your tongue.

I could go on forever.

Today was her day. Today we got to celebrate the amazing life she has led, and we got to hear from so many people who she has touched with her love, her laughter, and her southern sass.

She is incredible, and I adore her. I am so lucky that I get to have her as my grandma for eternity.

What more can I do?

Do you ever get the feeling that somebody just hates you, and you're not sure what you did to inspire such bad feelings?

Melancholy, Constance Marie Charpentier (1801)

I was told something that somebody said about me today, and it was so hateful that it knocked the wind right out of me. I felt like all of the strength I had left me, and I had to sit down just to be able to continue to function.

What can I have done to make someone think so badly of me? What can I do to change? I often feel as though I am not a very good person, and this just feels like proof of that. I do not do enough to be helpful. I am not happy enough. I am constantly making mistakes. But I am trying so, so hard to overcome these things. I just want to make everyone happy.

How am I supposed to fix things? I don't know what to do.

Chester Bennington

Chester Bennington committed suicide today.

I am finding this hard to come to terms with.

When I was a teenager experiencing the full weight of my depression and anxiety for the first time I found a lot of solace in the music of Linkin Park. I was so lost in myself... so full of rage and fear and just all-encompassing sadness. I needed to scream. I needed outlets. I found this release in music. I found lyrics that mirrored what I was feeling, words I could use when I couldn't find any of my own. It was like having a friend who understood what I was feeling, even when I didn't know myself.

It might sound really stupid, but this sense of shared sadness saved my life. It was catharsis. It was a life preserver.

I am so incredibly sorry that he never found a way to face his own demons.  I am sorry that he lost his battles. I am sorry that he left this world without knowing how much of an impact he had.

If you or anyone you know is struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention hotline at 1-800-273-8255. Your life is so worth saving.

Auuugh

I'm really tired and in pain and I just don't have it in me today. But I figured I should still post something. Because I want to be perfect and I have already missed so many days.

This is making me kind of crazy, honestly. I'm not sure I'm interesting enough to be perfect.