As a Mormon bisexual man I live in the "other circumstances" mentioned in The Family: A Proclamation to the World where "Death, disability or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation."
Sometimes I wish I could write as fast as I think. But I'm kidding myself that it would make any sense. The truth is that one of the beauties of the written word for me is that it may slow me down enough to make sense to myself. A couple of years ago when I was depressed I made a journal entry that looked a lot like this: kjflk439n ndfn lkjauurin flkjai ufjld uej vdjnfkdmdn jdjk thelklms ehwle
Then my writing turned into more legible scribbles and here's what showed up on the page: Dear Heavenly Parents. Thank you so much for my life and my dear family. Please bless me to be happy this day and to be able to lift up others and to feel connected to this little dot in space we call Earth.
Months later I imagined these words: "You are learning so much as you strive to move forward. You’re looking for blessings and you’re seeing more of them. Continue to seek and you’ll continue to find. Continue to love and to feel the love of others. Continue to express gratitude and to strive to improve your ability to serve others. Don't give into discouragement. Instead take courage, move, write and if you can't write just fill that page with scribbles of ink. Sometimes you just need to get the ink out of the pen. Don't think of it as writing. It's just something to fill the page, something to calm the soul. Continue."