Jesus is the only one who can heal the pain that you feel. There is no one else who can take the pain away. Jesus can feel every kind of pain that there is. People dealing with their sexual orientation are not alone. I once too thought that I was all alone. The only thing that I sought was love and understanding.
I was born 1980 weighing two pounds, four ounces. The doctors did not even expect me to make it overnight. They said that I would be dead by morning. I was born with lots of problems, including a collapsed lung. That night when I went to sleep, my lung was still collapsed. When I awoke the next morning, my lung had healed. The doctors did not know what had happened. Jesus had healed me.
Some might say when I had gotten home I was a sheltered somewhat, which is understandable. However, some people might say that I was sheltered a little to long. While growing up, I remember that my parents did not let me run everywhere with the kids in the neighborhood. At the time I did not understand why.
As a child people would tend to say that I was quiet and that I would tend to myself a lot. In elementary school I was smaller than your average kid. Also, I was picked on (not to the extent where I would cry, but at times I just would tune it out). While in elementary school I had a lazy eye, the kids would call me cross-eyed, and things and that would effect me somewhat. Now that I am older, I have let all of those feelings go because they are not effecting me now.
I had so called friends, but they saw me as be lower than themselves. Some might say I did not know how to express myself. To a certain extent that was true. People would always ask me why do I put up with certain things. In elementary school I really was not into sports, and playing outside. Well, I played outside only with a certain group of friends. Over the years, I got more and more conformable inside keeping to myself.
During my elementary school years I knew something was different about me. People would always say that I was extremely kind, which was true. I donít remember much about those years in elementary school. But the thing I remember is being attracted to a guy. At the time I did not think much of it. I believe I must have just let it pass. But when I entered middle school I noticed the something was happening, and I did not have any control over it. Through out elementary and middle school I was attracted to both, guys and girls. Knowing I could not tell anyone, I just had to keep this to myself.
While growing up my parents loved me, there was no doubt about that. But, I believe they had a listening problem to some extent (not to say that they could not hear well) They could hear other people fine, but they just had a problem hearing me. Issues that could have been solved a long time ago that have caused me a lot of pain could have been avoided.
While growing up I also had social anxiety for years. My parents used to hear me tell them something is wrong with me. I told them that I could just not relax in school, church, the mall, and places. At times there was just to many people around for me at the time. Social anxiety had effected me a lot. Anxiety effected me through middle school through college. During middle school I did not even like to walk down the hallways. It was hard to stand up and walk to the door in some cases, I just knew everyone was looking at me. In gym class in middle school I remember someone saying, "Get that stick out of your butt". I had very few friends compared to everyone else it seemed like in middle school.
During my high school years, while holding my feelings inside, dealing with social anxiety did not make it any better. My high school years were somewhat better than my middle school years. I had grown up some, and I had been able to make friends easier.
But in high school a change was taking place. At times I would have trouble with my schoolwork, and homework. My father was the kind of father who would yell a lot. He would curse at me also. I would tell him not to tell and curse at me, but that just made him more upset. When he would yell at me, at times I would just go upstairs and hold the place where the door closes and cry. I would tell my dad not to yell at me because I knew what he was doing to me. Every time I would cry I would want to reach out to someone. Looking for comfort, I would want to reach out to a guy. My mindset was a girl would not understand me, my pain, and I could not cry to her. I figured the only one I could cry to was someone who understood me. And that was another guy. Sometimes before I would go upstairs and cry my dad would tell me that I would never amount to anything, and he would call me a crybaby.
During my college years I had kept to myself the first few weeks. After that I had met a certain group of friends. They were a good set of friends. They all hung out together, and I became a member of their so-called "clique". We went to the movies, and talked in each otherís room, and sat in the lobby. In the group of friends there was this girl who I really liked. During this time I was still struggling with my feelings and still had anxiety. Trying to approach her would always end up in failure. Some say she treated me like dirt. At times she would just be rude to me. I would have really loved to tell her about my anxiety. I figured telling her about my anxiety issues she would understand me and accept me. The "clique" believed I was just shy to a certain extent. I never told her about my problems. I figured if I could just love her and she would love me back my problem would be solved. During this time all I wanted was someone who would be and vise-versa.
Finally second semester hits, and I am back at college. During second semester I meet a new friend. He approached me because of a fashion error. I had worn sandals with socks, and blue jeans. We talked for a few minutes. After some time had passed I had gone up to his room hoping to make a friend and to get some help with my style of dress. Once I had gone to his room once I had kept going back more often until we became the best of friends. It was just a matter of time before I told him what I was struggling with at the time. After I had told him how I felt later on, I had been introduced to a new "clique" of friends who understood me.
I had gone to clubs and out to eat with my new group of friends. We hung out together all the time. At times we would just go walking and talking. We would just have a good time. At times I felt that is were I belong. At times my anxiety would just leave. But, when I would get back to school it would come back the next day. But I still had anxiety at the clubs because I was around lots of people.
Time had passed and now it was the summer. The summer had passed by quickly. During the summer my feelings just grew. But I was still slightly confused. By that time I did not even want to put a label on how I felt. At times I thought I was "bi-sexual", and I just did not know how to deal with that. Feeling that I had too pick one sex and stick with it was making me just really struggle. Time had passed and now I. Back at college and still confused, I still had not changed.
During my first year at this college I had meet a girl who had been delivered from struggling with her sexuality. She had been set free. She was really nice and I talked to her about my problems a whole lot. She was telling me how I could also overcome. At the time I agreed with her, but I was still in doubt. Over time she had been going to a church near the city of the college. I decided to go with her. The Church Van would come pick us up at school. On the bus they would play music, and the Holy Sprit would just keep tugging on my heart, and I wanted to cry. I thank God for her. While at the church they would have alter calls and people would get touched and the pastor would touch them on their head and they would lay down, or fall down. Some would get filled with the Sprit and shout. At times I would go up to the front wanting to be healed. I wanted the pastor to come by and touch me so bad. One day on the way back to my seat (the pastor had never spoken to me before) he told me that "I" or "it" would be ok. I really believed him. I thank God for him and his family, and all the Godly men and women of the Church.
Time had passed and now the semester was over. Last semester I had pleaded with my parents to let me take a semester off from college to I could deal with my problems. They figured that I just wanted to take a semester off from college because I was lazy and I that I really had no problems. So their response was "no". I just knew that going back to college would not be a good experience for me because I had much to deal with at the time. So my parents sent me off to college. During this semester at college my grades had dropped and my anxiety had gotten so bad were going to class and even to activities was unbearable. At times I would really want to and try to go to class, but I just could not. Since my grades had fallen somewhat, and I talked to my parents over and over, more that I did the first time they agreed to let me take a semester off.
At this time I believed that everything would be ok, or would get a whole lot better. Something told me that if I would get the social anxiety out of the way I could tackle the sexual orientation issue. I had gone to see a councilor who had confirmed that I had anxiety. Then I had gone to see a doctor, and he has prescribed some medication for me to take. More time had passed then my anxiety had lessened. I give God and Jesus all of the credit. As the anxiety had began to leave I noticed a change in the way I was feeling. There was such a huge difference.
Since my anxiety had begun to leave I was getting out more, and hanging out with some friends of mine. I was no longer scared and nervous about going into a department store and paying a bill. I used to resist all I could.
I had not been to church in a while because I did not want people asking me all of these questions about why I am not a college. Finally time has passed and I had gone to church. When I first entered church I was so relaxed I could not believe it. It was incredible. After being relaxed in church I did not have a problem going back Sunday after Sunday. In fact, I enjoyed church now. I was anxious to go back every Sunday.
My grandmother discovered what I was dealing with at the time. She talked to me about it. Later on that night my mom, grandmother prayed about it. I was in the middle on the side of the bed in the bedroom my grandmother slept in. The day before, my dad and I had a huge argument because I did not want to ride in the car to drop my grandmother off, my parents were driving and they wanted me to ride with them. I had wanted to stay home because I needed time to myself, and I need to address some issues that were going on in my life.
The next day was Sunday, and I had gone to church. What can I say? Jesus just had touched me. I started crying uncontrollably and I have never been the same since. I just gave it all to Jesus. He took it all away.
At times my memory of it going away fades. I did not even get rid of it myself. Jesus had just taken it away. I donít recall doing anything. I did not change myself. I canít take any of the credit. I take NONEÖ All the credit goes to Jesus and God.