but, mostly “there”…

Well – I don’t really post much here anymore.  I started the blog almost 3 years ago… and, I think I’m about done here.  I just don’t feel like blogging about this stuff (religion, or my past, or my family issues) anymore… but, I’ll leave this blog up for now in case anyone else finds it interesting… or, in case I change my mind an decide I need to vent again.   =)

I think this blog served it’s purpose for me.  I guess, I really needed it and am glad I had it.  It was theraputic.  I think it helped me sort out a lot of junk in my head that I never really completely was open or honest with anyone before about in “real life”.   I think I learned a lot.  Grew a lot.  Like I understand more about my past and myself now.  I feel more at peace now, I think, than I ever did before.   More clear on how I feel and what I think.  More accepting of myself and others. 

I also met a lot of interesting people.  For the first time really, I learned that I was not alone with most of how I felt or thought.  It pretty much amazed me how many people there are out there that could actually relate to things I wrote about…  experiences I thought only I had.  Likewise, I was astounded to find so many out there that I could relate to also.  I want to thank any of you who might happen to check back here for your thoughts and “friendship” – even if it was virtual.   

Of course we (those few folks and myself) are still the exception.  My “real life” and world are filled with people who have no possible way to relate or get where I’m coming from, when it comes to my religious outlooks, etc.  I’m still the only agnostic/atheist and person who grew up with mental illness in the family that I know of in my own circle of family/friends. ..  But, that’s okay.  I think, for once in my life, I am really okay with that. 

As I mentioned in one of my last comments:

” I no longer hold any hostility towards my mother or “the church”.   I think I am FINALLY over that. I know they always meant well and thought they were doing the right thing – and as you pointed out – we are all only human. I can accept that and understand that – just as I know I certainly made/make my own mistakes. Lastly, I know that my Christian friends are good people – and that they care about me – just as I do them. “

Not only that – but, I no longer feel the need to hide my feelings…  or justify them… or question them.  While I might not broadcast the fact that I’m agnostic with those I don’t  know very well… I also don’t feel the need to hide it at all from those I do know.  No apologies.  They can either accept me ”as is” or not.  To my surprise, I don’t think anyone I really care about plans to disown me anytime soon because of our differences.  While we might not agree… or understand each other.. I think my family, and my true friends can agree to disagree on things.  Those that can’t? Well…  I think that’s more their problem than mine. 

Anyway – I’ll be around here and there…    but, mostly “there”. 

=) Take care people,
~smj

Personalizing

One of the books I read a while back, that really hit home with me and I felt the need to recently re-visit was “My Parents’ Keeper: Adult Children of the Emotionally Disturbed (Paperback)”.  I bought it shortly before I started this blog back in 2006…   and before that point, I never heard of an ACMIP (Adult Child of a Mentally Ill Parent). 

Up until that point, I hadn’t really taken the time to look into the history of mental illness on my mother’s side of the family…  or thought too much about what her problems might be… and/or how this all may have impacted me.  When I finally started researching a bit on the taboo subject (because it was never something really admitted or discussed openly around my house), and started really trying to learn more… really tried to understand things - so much made sense. 

The following excerpt from this book was one of those things that hit home for me:

Personalizing

One error that people frequently make when communicating needs and feelings has to do with personalizing the problem.  Personalizing means assuming that other people’s behavior is always determined by their feelings toward you.  For example, you may assume they act the way they do, because they don’t care about you or dislike you.

As an ACMIP, you felt responsible for everything that went right or wrong at home.  The mood swings of an unstable parent always seemed related to something you did, or failed to do.  Little wonder that, as an adult, you assume the feelings and reactions of others all have to do with you.

As a child, experiencing yourself as the center of the universe, it may have been difficult for you to understand that the inadequate parenting you received was not aimed at you, and was not an attempt to hurt or punish you.  Only when you got somewhat older could you see that your disturbed parent behavior had little to do with you or what you deserved.”

I read that, and was like – “wow! that’s me!”.  When I read the middle paragraph in quotations above explaining WHY a child with a Mentally Ill parent would feel this way even more so than average - it made so much sense.  

I have ALWAYS, for as long as I can remember, have taken full responsibility (or blame) for not only my own actions, but often everyone around me too.  I do it so much that for years I have joked about it – telling my friends, “just tell (whomever) that it was all my fault”… and even though I said it half jokingly – the truth is, I always DID feel like whatever happened was usually “my fault”.   Like I had some invisible power over my friends or situations and I should have been able to do something to change them/things/whatever. 

My closest friends have commented for years that I’m too hard on myself… or that I often over analyze and feel guilty over too many things. I’ve written about feeling “guilty” in this blog several times.  I realized a huge part of that guilt comes from this “personalizing”. 

When I was a child, I absolutely felt responsible for my mother’s mood swings and so much more.  I did try to do whatever I could to make her happy, to not set her off on a tangent, to keep the peace between her and my dad, etc.  I was always on the “look out” – anticipating her moods and needs.  Not to mention literally feeling like it was my responsibility to ”save” my own father’s soul.  Hello???  Talk about pressure!! No wonder I “personalize”. 

When I learned this – it was helpful to know.  It didn’t really help me stop doing it all together… but, it helped. 

The same book goes on say about ”personalizing”:

People have hurts, priorities, yearnings and losses that you certainly have not caused.  You are NOT the center of their universe, only your own. 

When you’re feeling responsible for, or hurt by someone’s behavior, you can do two things:

1) Assume that you are probably personalizing.
2) Make a list of at least five explanations for their behavior that have nothing to do with you.

Easier said than done, I’ve found… but, worth a shot to keep trying. 

It has helped, in hindsight… to realize that things my mother did or said that really hurt my feelings or whatever, really had nothing to do with me…  but, rather were a result of HER illness… her problems.  Not only this, (because I think I figured that out a while back) – but, realizing that it was MY own interpretations of things -  my personalizing things –  that made the hurt and resentment even worse.  Not that I didn’t have good reason for feeling like that as a child… but, as an adult, I can now understand more and really let go of negative thinking and deep rooted resentment and hurt in the process.  

~smj

Positive Recollections – (a book tag…)

I’m it!  Here’s a fun little “tag” from Kate at “One More Thing“…

 The game goes like this:
“Find the nearest book, turn to page 123, start at the fifth sentence and type out the next three sentences.”

 Sounds easy enough….

I’m at my desk… in my little home office.. directly to my right, is a book shelf… full of old and new books of mine… ranging from “Calvin and Hobbes” to “Mark Twain collection” to gawd only knows what.  Nearest  at hand, though, is a book I read not too long ago…

“Surviving a Borderline Parent: How to Heal Your Childhood Wounds & Build Trust, Boundaries, and Self-Esteem, by Kimberlee Roth, Freda B. Friedman, Randi Kreger”

Page 123…
fifth sentence begins:

“This is not to say that your negative feelings aren’t justified; rather it’s to remind you that little in life is 100 percent good or 100 percent bad (know anyone who thinks that it is?!).  In thinking about her childhood experience with her mother, who would alternate between being very loving and then raging uncontrollably, Donna, forty-two, says, “It helped me to keep in mind that my mother didn’t ask to be borderline. Whether it was caused by heredity or the environment, she didn’t choose it, and she never set out to make my life miserable.”

That’s 3 sentences…. but, here’s the rest of Donna’s quote:

“In her own way, she tried her best. One of the gifts she gave me was to always encourage my painting. That was one thing she always praised. I’m not surprised I grew up to be a painter”

 I don’t know if my mom is “borderline” or “sz” for sure, but, reading books like these made me realize it wasn’t like she was doing it “on purpose” and see things from her side a bit.  The parts that didn’t apply to me, I figured helped me better understand my mother and how she felt growing up the way she did wither HER mother being severely schizophrenic.

Page 123 goes on to suggest a little exercise:

STOP AND THINK: Positive Recollections

• Sit quietly and think of a positive memory – however fleeting – that you had with a parent,even one who was mostly invalidating and/or abusive. Do you remember a song, a story, a particular walk, or a gift – a snapshot of a moment when you felt happy, glad, loved, joyful even, with your parent?

• Note what senses get aroused when you think of that moment.  Is it smell, touch, sight, sound? Are these sensations that now arouse positive feelings for you?

• Write about how it feels to be able to focus on a positive memory, a positive moment with your parent.

When I read this, I knew immediately what one of my favorite ”good memories” of my mom was/is from when I was a child.  It’s something she and I still bring up when we get together, because it’s something we can both actually smile about and not argue about…

I remember my mother telling me stories at nap time.  It was a favorite time for me. She was a good story teller.  She would ask me what I wanted in the story.  I’d look around my room, see the Bambi decor, and inevitable say, “a rabbit…. a deer…. a butterfly”… whatever I saw on my walls.  Sometimes, I’d throw in a squirrel or something.  And, my mom would tell a story… using whatever characters I wanted…. and always with “a little girl with long blonde hair, and big blue eyes, and freckles from the angel kisses” as the main character.

I ate that right up like candy. 

Sure I remember the not so positives…  I often felt alone….  I remember doing a lot of nothing when I was really young.  I missed my brother when he went off to school full days.  Before that, he always entertained me.  But for a few years, before I went into first grade, I did a lot of entertaining myself.   Trying to keep quiet and out of mom’s way.  Off by myself often coloring… painting… listening… waiting…

But, nap time…  That was different.  I had her full attention then… 

She could be quite charming and entertaining… So animated.  Definitely interesting.  And, she always made me feel so special through those stories…  I remember snuggling up with her, and never wanting nap time to end.  I actually don’t remember how the stories ended.  She would just ramble, making it up as she went along, until I dozed off.  I’d try my best to stay awake… to make her keep going… but, eventually my eyelids wouldn’t cooperate and I’d doze off. 

It definitely feels good to have these memories.  Reminds me that she really did love me…  like she really did make efforts to do her best for me… and makes me feel lucky that I have memories like these to prove it.  It also makes it easier to let go of the not-so-good memories… 

~smj

To me… when I was 13…

Whelp… I’ve been tagged… by Rebecca from her “Fictional Reality” blog.   The idea is to write a letter to yourself when you were 13.  This was her post – “Tag! You’re it!“, and is a good read that leaves one wondering… “what exactly happened at her cousin’s wedding anyway??”.  =)… 

It is funny that not too long ago, I wound up writing a post called “If I could go back in time… “.  In that post, I wound up writing about what I would tell myself if I could go back 6 years ago… when I was pregnant with my 2nd son, had a 5 year old son, and was taking care of my dieing father. 

I didn’t plan to write it… it just rolled off…  and the really weird thing is that only a couple days later, I wound up face to face with a pregnant woman – pregnant with her 2nd son, and she has a 4 year old son, and she had just lost her mother.  I wound up in a deep conversation with her, even though we hardly knew each other… and, saying many of the same things to her that I had just written about. 

Anyway – now, I’m faced with writing to my 13 year old self… and I can’t help but wonder if there is some poor 13 year old out there, that is  going thru a similar time that I had, and will suddenly appear after this post and engage me in deep conversation…   ???  Wouldn’t that be something???

Before I begin my letter, I’d like to say that I remember being 13 very well…  and I have my old diary to remind me of just where my mindset was those days.  At that time, I was going thru some major rebellion and learning curves of my own.  I sort of doubt that I would listen to any adult back then too much…  probably not even myself since I’m now “old”.  LOL  But, also true to my nature then and now, I will tell myself what I think should be said, whether the 13 year old me wants to hear it or not!   So, here goes….

Dear Samantha Jane… 
(yes, I know that is not your real name…  and I do not know WHY your mother always called you that…. and it’s even MORE of a mystery as to why 29 years later you would chose it for your blog name?? What’s a “blog”, you ask?  Ohh… never mind!)

I know you don’t think anyone can possibly understand where you are coming from, or how you feel…  but, you should know that if anyone can, I can.  And, all in all, I don’t think you need too many pointers. You actually did a pretty darn good job of surviving your teen years, and you obviously make it thru alive.  Better yet, you make it through with a rather positive outlook on life and a smile on your face. You have a better head on your shoulders than you realize… and all in all, you have a pretty good life.  But, now that I’m 41, I can think of a few things that might have been nice to know when I was your age (13).   So, maybe, jusssssssssssst maybe – you can take some of these pointers into consideration, ok? 

1)  You are not alone.  You might feel like you are…  but, someday, they are going to have this thing called “the Internet”, and you are going to be able to read about all kinds of people whom you can actually relate to and went thru similar situations.  That alone, is sort of comforting to me now… so, I thought if might make you feel better. 

2)  Your parents both love you very much.  Yes, they have their issues with each other and in general.. but, never doubt that they both love YOU.  Not the “you” that you think you need to pretend to be – but the REAL you.  They do.  You may have them fooled on some things… but, if/when they find out the truth (and ummm… they will eventually), guess what?  They still love you.  Believe it.

3) Your brother’s love you too.  Even your oldest brother whom you swear hates you and loves to see you get in trouble.  Yeah, he might be a little jealous of you sometimes, but he truly cares about you so much that he worries about you more than you know.  He would do anything for you… and there winds up being a few times that he actually really helps you out.  Don’t be afraid to talk to him, and know that both of your brother’s always have your back. 

On the other hand, realize that just because your brothers would never hit a girl… there are other guys out there that will.  You might want to think twice before you dump your drink down that jerk’s pants when your 19… even though, he totally deserved it.  But, if you DO decide to do it… then, after you pick yourself up off the floor (after the 2nd time you go down), and the whole bar is holding him back??  – Use a fist when you swing over the little bar-tenders head and hit him (instead of an open hand slap to the head).  Then still take him to court, press charges, and sick your brother’s on him! The nazi-rat-bastard!   

4)  OK – this is a hard one.  About your Mom….  While, yes, she loves you… you should know that she has some bigger issues than just being a religious fanatic.  She has some real mental health issues.  Don’t laugh.  It’s not funny.  I know you joke about it, but don’t really believe this right now.  It’s scary… but, it’s true.  No, she’s not like her mother… but, it is more than just her religious outlooks, or her relationship with Dad.  She’s looses touch with reality sometimes.  I think you’re better off knowing this.  I think everything will be less confusing and scary if you learn a little about it. 

You don’t need to confront her on it… it won’t do any good… and don’t expect Dad to want to talk about it either – because he’s also afraid to believe this.  He’s afraid of what people will think about your whole family if they know.  His silence on these issues is both his being in denial, and because he’s trying to protect you.  But, don’t YOU be afraid anymore.  You are NOT like your mother… and you don’t have these same issues that she has.  Her problems are completely unrelated to you.  However, her problems DO affect you.  Try to learn a little about schizophrenia or mental illness in general… and, know that when she does things, it’s NOT YOUR FAULT.  It’s also not her fault….  but, mostly realize there’s nothing you can do to make her better. 

5)  Matter of fact, you should know that a lot of things are NOT your fault.  You have a tendency to put way too much pressure on yourself.  It’s good to take responsibility for yourself… and your own actions.  But, you need to understand that there are many things that you just have to deal with…  but can not control. Try not to feel so guilty all the time.

6)  Your Dad is not going to Hell.  And either is your brother, or you, or anyone else that you love and worry about.  It is not up to you to save them.  And yes, it is wrong for your mother and other church people to put that kind of expectations and pressure on you.  Don’t let them anymore. Stop worrying – and go with your gut.  When you have questions, ask them.  It’s okay to wonder, doubt, ask, and learn.  The more you learn, the better you’ll feel – and the sooner you’ll feel better.

7)  The world is not black and white.  Everything isn’t either good or bad.  There is plenty of gray area.  Don’t be so quick to think you know the answers.. or that someone else does.  You know? You are very good at putting yourself in someone else’s shoes.  You are easily able to sympathize and empathize with folks.  You seem to naturally want to help people (and animals).  Keep doing that.  The more you do that.. the more gray you see… and that’s a good thing. 

8 ) Also, don’t think you have to have this charade of a split personality.  Both “sides” are ALL YOU – and, the “whole you” is actually pretty special.  Those that really care about you, will appreciate your being honest with them and the “whole” you, way more than only getting the parts of you that you THINK they want to see.

9) And, don’t worry about what other people think about you too much…   Ironically, the more you are yourself… the more confident you are… and the less you try to please everyone else… the more people like you… and the better you’ll feel. 

10)  You’re Dad always tells you that “boys always want what they can’t have, and then once they get it, they don’t want it anymore”.  He’s right.  99% of the time this seems to be the case.. especially for teenage boys.  But, this goes both ways… and if there’s ever a boy that you reeeeeeeeelly think you like soooooo much… and you’re feeling sooo hurt over, think about how this might be applying to you. 

11)  Speaking of boys…  You are right to not have any big desire to get a serious boyfriend any time soon.  Keep learning from your friends mistakes… and being there for them (your friends) when they need you.  Even years later, don’t ever feel pressured into doing something just because you THINK everyone else is doing it… or that you SHOULD want to. If you don’t want to do something, and/or think you’ll regret it.. then, don’t.  

Here’s 2 more things about boys…  1) While it might not seem believable right now… some day, you’ll have more chasing after you than you ever imagined.  Don’t be so afraid of this when it happens.  Have fun.  You don’t have to be serious with any of them if you don’t want to.  Give a few more of them a chance then you do.  because..   2) Someday, when you least expect it, and aren’t looking for it… you WILL meet someone who really loves you and wants to be with you forever.  (and, wait til you see your kids… but, we’ll let that be a surprise.  =)

12)  Your friends mean the world to you right now.. and that doesn’t change.  Don’t ever lose sight of how much you need your friends…  but, do question if someone really IS a friend.  Friendship is a two way street.  You don’t have to follow along with any “friends” that aren’t really looking out for your best interest.  Don’t be so quick to follow…  you can be a great leader when you want to. 

13)  Why don’t you try out for a few more activities?  I know you don’t want to do cheerleading (like your father wants), but, you might like to be on a girls sports team… or maybe even in the Drama club? You know you love to sing.  Don’t NOT do things just to spite anyone… and don’t be so nervous… you can do it! 

14) Think twice about giving up on your piano lessons.  I know it’s hard to learn from mom… but, she really is an excellent pianist… and you COULD play like that someday if you stick with it.  If you don’t… you’ll always regret it. 

15) About Gram and Pa – Visit them, and talk to them, and listen to their stories about your Dad (even though you’ve heard them a million times) every chance you get.  Take in every wrinkle and twinkle in their eyes… 

16) Have fun at concerts..  but, do yourself a favor and don’t chug Jack Daniel’s from a wine sac… 

17) You, are NOT fat.  Some day, you are going to look back at how you look now… and think, “wow!  I was actually pretty good lookin!”.  I know that isn’t going to resonate with you… so maybe at least this advice will.  Please try to understand that there is NOT miracle pill…  or miracle diet…  Save yourself years of yo-yo dieting.  The only way you will ever be thin and healthy is if you eat right… and exercise.  Surprise Surprise. 

18) When you write in your diary…???  Try to write a little bit more about Mom and Dad and Gram and Pa and family events and stuff…  I know it’s easier to write pages and pages about boys and parties and girlfriends… but, trust me on this…

19) Speaking of your Diary…. do you REALLY think Mom isn’t going to read it??  You might want to hide it a little better.. or, leave out a few parts… then again, never mind.  That all plays out for a reason…

and last but not least:

20)  and this is very important…  it could save you YEARS of frustration.  So listen up.  

You, my dear, have naturally wavy hair that has a mind of it’s own.  All the blow-drying, curling irons, and hot rollers in the world will NEVER tame it or enable you to have that feathered back “Farah Faucet hair” that all your friends seem to have.  What you need to do is just brush it once when it’s wet, then put gel in it, scrunch it, and then do NOTHING.  Maybe pick it out a little when it dries and spray it.  That’s it.  Women will tell you for many many years that they would kill for your hair.  It’s one of your only re-deeming features in later years. Try to quit hating it so much and work with it.  =)

Ok – that’s it…  Sorry it was so long and I babbled on and on.  SOME things NEVER change….

~smj

 Now…. if anyone’s interested…  here’s a link to Brad Paisley’s song along these lines – called, “If I could write a letter to me”.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fqtbMHfpXY

 -  oh – and if anyone is still reading this…. consider you yourself tagged!  =)

Forgiving Mom…

Linda Athis stumbled in here recently and commented on my blog… which led me to her blog called “Forgiving Mom” (http://forgivingmom.wordpress.com/).  I was amazed and intrigued by the many similarities she and I seem to have.  But, the one glaring difference, is that she has lost her mom… and she’s feeling the pain of that.  Still, she talks of coming to terms with things and forgiving her Mom before she died.  It made me wonder how I will feel when my mom is gone some day?  But, I still didn’t know if I felt the same “forgiveness and understanding” she wrote of…  

 But, between reading her blog… and all the soul searching  and reminiscing I’ve been doing this past year…  and talking to my good friend til the wee hours of the morning the other weekend…  and the post I wrote recently about Christmas and how BOTH my parents made sure we had good ones..  I realized something….

 I need to forgive my mom. 

I have said that I did, because I believe she is/was sick, so I could…  but… did I really?  I don’t think so. 

I know I have a lot of resentment bottled up in me towards her… I fight it all the time… She makes me angry… crazy…. hurt.  It’s hard to squeeze forgiveness in there. 

But… I think… I finally do.  I think I finally can. 

All this researching… reflecting… has taught me a lot.  Not only about myself… but also about my Mom.

 For years…  I’ve tried to make excuses for her… and tried to forgive her and love her in spite of so many things about her that still made me upset.   I wanted to but, I don’t think I really could.. or did.   

But, now… I see things differently for the first time.  I still think I had a right to feel the way I did towards her… but, I finally feel like I can start to let those angry and bitter feelings go. 

For years, I saw my father as the “good parent”… and the “martyr”.  I still see that… but, for the first time… I am really seeing that my mom not only TRIED her best to be a good parent too… but, that all in all… she really was a good mom.  It took two to make our family work at all… and my mother.. was also a “good parent” and “martyr”. 

She had her battles too.  When I think about just how much she was dealing with that I can probably never understand… and I think about my childhood and how she was… and still is with my brothers and our children…. I realize…  I was actually pretty damn lucky.  Some of the stories I’ve read about mentally ill parents were much MUCH worse than anything I had to deal with.  However, I bet my mother could relate to some of the worse case scenarios because of HER mother that was in and out of institutions her whole life.  What a rotten childhood SHE must have had.  I never really understood that as much as I do now. 

So, yeah… she was a religious nut and is a bit whacky at times.  But, you know what? She really did love me.  She really DOES love me.  And she tries her best to show it.  Looking back, I see that she really did everything she could to try to be a good mom and be there for us.  And she was.  Even with her illness and the religious BS… she was probably a better mother than a lot of women out there.  Losing touch with reality a little… and dealing with her past…. ??  That had to be hard for her.  No wonder she was/is a religious nut.  Maybe that was/is her saving grace?  Maybe without it, she’d be in much worse shape and need meds and hospitals too?  So, she didn’t always measure up.  So what?  Who does?  Ya know what?  I finally realize that she did damn good. 

Yes, I still look back at some things… and think, “that wasn’t right!”… “that shouldn’t have happened to me!”.   I still believe that.  I think I NEEDED to validate those feelings… and grieve a bit for myself…  but, I think more importantly I need to learn and deal with those feelings.  I feel like I finally can do that. 

When my parents fought (which they did a lot)… my dad always use to say he was only staying with her because of us kids.  She use to say she was only staying with him because her relgion didn’t believe in divorce.  Hearing this, use to make me wince and again think my Dad was doing something great for US…  but not her.  She was only there for religion….  

 But, looking back… I think I had this wrong.  Regardless of what she screamed at him…  she HAD to have stayed all those years for a number of reasons probably (as did he probably!)… and myself and my brothers just HAd to be one of her main reasons too.  I think, deep down, she knew my dad was a good father.  Maybe she didn’t want to admit it… because it was confusing to her since he was an atheist and all.  But she also didn’t want to deprive us of that.  I think she did want us to grow up with both parents… and that she DID have our best interests in mind.  Regardless of if she ever said it. 

Using “religion” as her excuse – was just that.  An excuse she could rationalize out and readily admit.   I mean, let’s face it… she has used religion for an excuse to support anything that she ever really did… or didn’t want to do.  I think, that had she REALLY wanted to get divorced and leave him… you can bet your bottem dollar that the Holy Spirit or God would have appeared to her and told her it was okay…. and that she SHOULD.  This never happened until we were all grown.  Why?  Because she didn’t really want to leave him!  Why am I just NOW figuring all this out?!

I am just now… at 41 years of age.. realizing that she also sacrificed for us kids… she also was a martyr for us… she also not only TRIED to be a good mom… but, WAS.  All things considered… she did pretty damn good by me…

And I’ve been a mean daughter…  Resentful.  Angry.  

I am so glad I am discovering these feelings before she’s dead and gone.  I am finally realizing how lucky I was/am to have her in my life.  I am finally realizing I need to let go of my anger and resentment towards her.  I am finally seeing her for the couragious person and loving mother she was/is…  

I need to tell her these things…  that she was a good mom.  I don’t think I’ve ever really told her that and meant it.  I really mean it now.  I need to tell her.

To cry… or NOT to cry…

There’s another interesting read over on “The Naked Soul” blog, called “Pain and Suffering – Human VS Spiritual “.   Do we create our own pain?  Or chose to suffer? I started to reply to it…  but, felt my reply turning into a book – so, decided to make a post here instead.  I often think of my father when I think of people who overcame and dealt with pain.  (He almost died in a fire when he was 12 – more details on that posted here).  He was never one to complain, though.   

When we were kids, we never even realized how much he had gone through, or still dealt with.  Pain was a constant for him.  He flinched with every step he took… but, he was too tough, and proud, to admit his pain, or to complain about it.  Even when he got really sick his last days on this earth… and had even more trouble walking…  he refused to let me push him in a wheel chair through the hospital to his appointments.  He said he was never going back in another wheel chair…  he walked… stopping every so many feet until we got there.  This frustrated me as I knew he was in pain, and felt it was “needless”.  It also inspired the hell out of me, and made me admire his will power and strength. 

As I got older, and saw him more as a human, and not just my Dad – I realized that much of his “toughness” was a big act.  He was a big softie on the inside…. but, you wouldn’t have known it.  I still have to respect him and admire his strength….  he sure was a tough old goat .  He had to be to make it through everythig he  did. 

However, I do think his “strength”, and prideful commitment to it, probably went a little overboard sometimes.   He was so strong… yet he was afraid to express his real emotions/feelings. He was so afraid to look “weak”, that he didn’t/wouldn’t seek help that was often readily available -  and suffered more in the process because of that.  He taught us to do the same.  Is that really a good quality?

My brothers and I were strongly encouraged to hide any pain and negative feelings. Crying or showing weakness was shameful and flat out ridiculed.  I remember my father telling my brothers that they were “sissies”… or “crying like a little girl” when/if they cried (the words “little girl” said with a sneer of disgust, as if something terrible to be).  So, I didn’t want to cry… OR act like a “little girl” either.  Even though I WAS one! LOL  Nope, I wanted to be tough… and one of the guys.  And, I was.  To this day, most of my friends and family all perceive me as being much stronger than I think I really am.  I talk about that a little in my other post about here.  

We were taught to hide or repress our tears…  That it was shameful to feel sorry for ourselves…  or to act weak.  We were told to not make excuses for ourselves…  To accept responsibility… to look on the bright side… to not complain - even if we had something legitimate to complain about…  And we were taught that most things were not worth complaining about.  I can still hear my father’s voice saying, “If that is all you have to complain about, than you shouldn’t be complaining!”.  Much of this logic… I still completely agree with.   However, I know it went too far.  I have to take a step back and watch how I treat my own boys…   I remember being afraid of the dark when I was very young… but also being petrified to seek comfort and admit I was afraid.  I was more afraid to go to my parents and say I was afraid, than I was afraid of the dark.   I don’t ever want my boys to fee like that.  I want them to run to my bed in the middle of the night and know they will find protection from whatever bad dreams or darkness they fear. 

I remember being teased by my brothers, and really being upset… and running to the bathroom and dabbing tears so as not to let them fall from my eyes…  making sure there were no signs of a tear before facing them again.  

I remember physically getting hurt, and being able to choke back the tears… and then be rewarded for doing that.  (what a brave girl!)   If I did cry… I felt like a big cry baby… and didn’t want anyone to see. 

I remember  a lot worse things that I care not to write about that I never told anyone.   Even things that I knew then were “wrong” or not fair to me, I still kept to myself because I somehow thought it was “my own fault”.  I blamed myself… and didn’t want to admit it to anything… even if it wasn’t really my fault.  .Better to suffer and hide it, then to have anyone else know how “weak” I was.    I know I applied this in many areas of my life…  blaming myself… and repressing negative feelings… putting on a good front.

I remember the first time I cried in front of a best friend… we were 18… and had been best friends since 3rd grade.   She had never once seen me cry and she was utterly shocked.  She didn’t know how to respond to me.  Matter of fact, she said “Oh my God!  I’ve never seen you cry.  Please don’t cry.  You can’t cry!  Don’t cry!”.  ??  As if I wasn’t allowed to.  ?! I  still hate to cry in front of anyone… but, I’m not as bad as I use to be.  On of the best friends I have now, is one who I can cry with occassionally.  (When we are not too busy laughing our asses off, that is )  I actually am a person who usually has fun no matter what… who always looks on the bright side…  makes others laugh… see’s humor in most things… and I am glad I am like that. 

So, anyway… I’m not trying to whine here…  (sorry! LOL) , but rather state that regarding the whole “people should be responsible for their own pain” issue… ??  Well, like many things, I have mixed feelings on this topic.  While I don’t want to dwell on the negatives… or let pain or suffering consume me… I also am fairly recently learning that it’s okay to acknowledge pain,  or mourn or grieve for oneself, and to cry.   Sometimes, pain (physical or spiritual) is very real… and very deserving of those tears. 

Matter of fact, I am reading a book that rather insists that one NEEDS  to do this (acknowledge your pain and suffering, and grieve) rather than live in denial of it, and rationalize things from your past (or present).  It claims that until you do so, you can never really understand yourself and grow…  That you need to do feel sorry for yourself.. grieve… mourn whatever it was you never had or lost, or what you are dealing with…  so that you can then move on.  I suppose that’s the trick, right?  Knowing when to “move on”… and then actually being able to do it, right? 

~smj

My teen life in a musical youtube nutshell…

I was mulling over my last post…. and, my teenage years in my head. 

My teen years marked the beginning of my dual lifestyle…

One one hand…  I was starting to doubt and reject a lot of what I was being taught by mom and church in general.. but, I was still going to church 2-5 times a week and singing in the choir, where I’d basically be partaking in a lof of this:

(“Because He Lives I Can Face Tomorrow” )

Then, on the days I wasn’t playing the part of the good little Christian girl, I was skipping school, jumping out my window, and staying over my heathen friends houses a lot in order to sneak to rock concerts and parties, and banging my head to the likes of this:

(“Running with the Devil” – VanHalen)

Explains a lot, doesn’t it???

=)
~smj

All is fair in love and conversion…

Another post at “de-conversion” got me thinking.  The post is called “My life of proselytization“, this time from HeisSailing…   

In his post, he said:

 ”I witnessed the Gospel of Jesus Christ for most of my adult life”. 

Now, I was much younger  than he was when I was a full force believer.  But, I believe I felt just as strongly.  I believed it all.  I went around trying to “save” all the kids in my neighborhood… but, my main mission was to save my own father.   

HeisSailing made a comment about getting his mom to come to church:

“I would try to convince my mother, once a committed Christian and now a practical atheist, the error of her backsliding ways. I even got her to go to church with me a few times, but not before informing the pastor that I was bringing her and if he would not mind directing a word or two of his message her way.”

This really reminded me of how when I was a young girl, I would be pressured into singing or doing “specials” in front of the church.  Then, I would be asked to put the pressure on my father to come to church to see me.  After all, I was “Daddy’s little girl”, didn’t he want to see me perform?  So, he did come… for at least the first few years of “specials”. 

Each time he said “yes honey, I’ll come see you sing” –  I would report back to my mother.  Then my mother, her friends, the pastor, and my brother and I would rejoice.  He’ s coming!  Hallelujah!  And we’d all pray hard every day until the day of the “special”, that when he came… THIS would be the time the lord would come down and bonk him on the head and turn him into the perfect Christian father and husband.  When it didn’t happen… we’d go back to plan A.  Try, try again.  Repeatedly I was put in this position of trying to save my own father.  For years. 

Eventually, my father stopped coming to every “special” of mine.  He knew the deal… and he didn’t like being approached by the pastor and pressured each time he came either.  It was like the whole church was looking at him when he’d come.  “Here comes that atheist husband and father!”.  They could’ve sold tickets to see the freak atheist!  LOL  So, I can’t blame him for not wanting to come – even at the time.  He probably also sensed the pressure being put on me, and didn’t want to be a part of that either. 

I know it was very hard for him to eventually start telling me, “no honey, I won’t come see you sing”.  I would then have to report back to my mother that I had failed.. he won’t come… I’m sorry.  She would then freak out and get very upset.  She made me feel terrible when he didn’t come.  She’d make me ask him again and again.  And, then they’d argue and she’d try to make him feel guilty for not coming,  and make ME feel guilty and like he didn’t care about me in the process.

Eventually, I didn’t WANT to keep singing either.  (surprise surprise!).  Mostly because I didn’t want to keep pressuring my dad and going thru this.. and because I was starting to have my own doubts about all of it.  Not only about my beliefs, but I started wondering if I even had a good voice or not!  (loletinf!;)  When I finally stood up for myself and said that I didn’t want to do a “special”, I suddenly didn’t feel so special anymore.  Not just my mother, but the church leaders also made me feel really bad.  Like I was a quitter… giving up… back-sliding… and, they then put pressure and guilt trips on ME asking me over and over when I would sing again.  My mother even said something like, “how is your father ever going to be saved now??! ”. 

Looking back, I can’t believe how much plotting and scheming it all was.  The pressure, fear, and guilt used! Unfortunately, since I was in it, I understand their thinking and putting the pressure on my Dad.  They really felt it was their duty and apparently rudeness, politeness, respect, and common courtesy fly out the window when you are trying to save someone’s soul (and do your Christian duty ).  This is bad enough. 

However, what really gets me (and I don’t want to sound whiney here, but) is how could they do that to me?  I was a little girl.  A little CHRISTIAN girl who wanted to believe all they were teaching.  They played me.  They used me.  How could they put that kind of pressure, guilt and fear on me?!?

 And, when I say “they”, it was NOT just by my mother.  It was also her friends, the pastor, the choir director, the church leaders.  What kind of people scare the crap out of a little girl telling her that her father, (who she loved wholeheartedly and was a GREAT Dad) was going to burn in hell?  Tell her that over and over?? Which is bad enough… but, then tack on the, ”unless YOU can save him” part.  ??  And we prayed.. and prayed…  And I cried… and cried…

I just don’t get it. I don’t get how adults, in their right minds, could think this was an okay thing to do.  ??  The “RIGHT” thing to do??  It makes me mad still when I think about it, and leads me to the only logical conclusion I can think of, and that is that they ALL were not in their right minds! 

HeisSailing wrote:

” I then became exhausted from witnessing. I was exhausted and drained from believing that I and my small sect of Christian brethren have the exclusivity on truth and everyone else, no matter what their beliefs, are going to eternal torment. I was sick of believing that I was on the narrow path of righteousness, and my loved ones are on the wide path leading to destruction when in many cases, they are just simply much better people than I am.”

This is a huge part of why I eventually didn’t believe and don’t believe in any one religion, or in religion or God at all really.  Not only because I can’t fathom the idea of my own father going to hell (which is a biggie, I admit), but, also ALLLLLL the other people.  It can’t be.  It makes no sense. 

HeisSailing then wrapped up his post by saying:

“Then I became sick of that guilt, I became sick of that arrogance of exclusivity, I became sick of looking at our life as a trial from God to see if we believed the correct doctrines, and I refused to accept it anymore.”

Like him, I also ”became sick” of these same things…  The eternal dangling carrot, and the constant fear of hell. I am glad to be rid of them.    

PS – If you haven’t already – I suggest you go read HeisSailing’s post in full, as he writes much better than me and makes his points with much better reasoning…

Take care,

~smj

Strange Voices… ?

I was reading over at “de-conversion“, and saw a post by “Thinking Ape” where he mentioned that;  

“most schizophrenics don’t believe it is god talking to them, if anything, it is usually the devil”. 

Now, I’m sure this is his opinion… but, sounds like he knows what he’s talking about, and from what I have seen, I agree.  Schizophrenia runs on my mom’s side of the family.  I think she has some form of it, although she’s never been diagnosed.  Her mother, and her brother both were mostly institutionalized.   I’ve mentioned this before - and how she’s not like them… but, still… 

I use to visit my Mom’s mom, my grandmother, frequently.  Psychiatric wards and hospitals are some scary places, Man.  When I was a kid, she use to come to our house and visit for a day or two.    I always thought she was odd… but, I knew she was sick, and just accepted it.  I still loved her, and felt she loved me.  She use to want to come and live with us… she’d stay in my room and make comments, like “what a nice spare room you have here”.  And, I was like, “hey!?  That’s MY room!”.  LOL  As I grew older, I watched her go in and out of different homes, but, always wound up back at a more secure hospital.  Eventually, my mom stopped taking her out of those places for visits, and we would go see her there.  We, meaning myself and her… sometimes, my one brother.

My Grandmother’s behavior was unpredictable.  Sometimes funny.. like, she’d just start taking her clothes off anywhere… and, sometimes, confusing… where I just couldn’t tell what she was saying or doing.  It was difficult to understand what she was saying most of the time, but, when I could make it out, it was frequently something about Satan, Beelzebub and scary stuff.   She sometimes looked like she was possessed… or like she wanted to scare you. 

I think Grandma believed herself to be possessed by demons.  What a scary thought!!   I wonder, if my mother heard/hears voices like that sometimes??  That is scary too.  Maybe that is why she was convinced my dad was the devil himself??  Perhaps that is why she is so religious?  Perhaps, she NEEDS to be - to ward those evil voices off?  I don’t know?  I’m just “what if”-ing here…

In my Grandmother’s last several years on this earth, I visited her much more than my mother did.  I don’t think my mom could take it.  Then, my mom was out of the country, so she wasn’t even here when she died.  I think she was relieved to not be here to handle things.  I think my mother  really did believe that  she (her mother/my grandmother) was possessed by demons and would get very agitated around her.  Even when she was trying to do something nice for her birthday or something, my mom seemed mostly annoyed with her.  We never stayed long.  Almost like she thought my Grandmother was purposely being schizophrenic to make her life hell.   I’m sure it was difficult on her (my mom) too her whole life.  I’m sure I’ll never know just how difficult…

I felt bad for my Grandmother.  I saw her as a lonely old woman… sick… confused.  Not evil.  As an adult, I visited her regularly and brought my son.  She always  looked so happy to see us… and never wanted us to leave.  She always told me she loved me, and squeezed my hand.  Yeah… she still acted weird often.  But, I found that if I laughed off her weird behavior, or just acted like nothing and changed the subject – she usually snapped out of it.  I felt like I was the only good thing she had to look forward to.  

My uncle is a different story.  I hardly know him, and the few times I did visit him I felt very unsafe and awkward…  My Mom does visit him, though, and she doesn’t seem to have those same ill feelings towards him as she did her mother.  I guess, I can understand that..  he’s her kid brother.. she doesn’t blame him…. I think she does blame her mom for a lot… even though it was not her fault.  Sounds familiar… eh?

The more I recently am learning about growing up with a mentally ill parent, the better I not only understood myself, but also my mother.  Ok, now I’m reeeeealy feeling guilty – I still haven’t called her.  I will… right now!  LOLetinf!

~smj

Putting off “the call”…

I am being a bad daughter…..  again.  I have been putting off calling my mother back.  I am just so fed up with things that she’s doing.  Even though I haven’t talked to her, I received some verrrrrrrrrrrrrrry lengthy emails form her – telling all about her time at “The Call”, and then her latest trip to help with Katrina – which she writes more about praying than anything else. 

I want so bad when I do talk to her, to NOT let her bother me.  I want to be supportive to her… and give her credit for following her heart.  But, it’s so hard when I feel her thrusting all this crap at me.  But still… why do I let her get to me?  I should be use to it by now.  I mean, I know what she’s going to be talking about, and that there’s no sense in trying to tell her how I feel about any of it.  I tell myself I won’t let her get to me.  She’s sick.  I feel sorry for her…  but, yet – every time we talk – especially when she’s on a roll with her latest “adventures” – I wind up feeling drained, and annoyed, and aggrivated by the end ot it.  And, yes…  somehow guilty as well….

You should have heard her go on and on in her email, though.  I was curious, and skeptical of some of the things she was saying – so I stupidly went to Youtube to get a peek for myself.  I found many many short clips there… mostly of people praying, singing, jumping, speaking in tongues, and shouting.  Most of it didn’t surprise me.  Some of it brought back not so good memories and I was glad I am not still in that scene. 

Still…..  most of the people looked happy…. really happy.  There was one clip that almost made me wish I still believed…  This one:

 Don’t they look happy?  All 500 million of them (man there’s a lot, isn’t there?) The part where they all were singing “hallelujah” hit me.  I remember that song well… and I actually really liked singing… and remember feeling moved many time during that song.  It is a pretty song.  Just being in a group… where everyone is swaying and raising their hands and really wanting to feel that love is a powerful thing.  I think now, looking back, that much of my faith and feelings were just wanting to belong… basking in the community and “good” vibes.  Then again, I remember getting almost the same really cool feeling when I went to see “The Who”.  I think, longing to be a part of something is a huge part of all that…

There were many more clips regarding “The Call” that made me think I made the right move by getting out… and raised seriosus doubts in my mind about the whole deal, and especially Lou Engle – the “prohetic” leader.  Here’s a much longer clip than you’ll want to watch:

Lou Engle was also very involved in that whole “jesus camp” thing – which I personally found very, very disturbing.   Sadly, I could relate.  My childhood experiences weren’t far off from a lot of what they are showing.  (see this post of mine for an example) 
Maybe not quite as big of a group… but, same thing on a smaller level.   Here’s a clip from that too:

 I especially didn’t know wether to laugh or cry at this lady going off about Harry Potter being evil:

My oldest son loves Harry Potter.  So do I.  I know damn well that if my mother had her say – she would agree with the above clip.  She hated halloween and totally had me freaked out about evil spirits when I was a kid.  Almost everything was off limits or “evil”.  I have vivid memories from teen group leaders telling me how evil rock music was… how just the beat was satanic… making young people want to move in sexual ways.  We talked in length about Led Zepplin’s “Stairway to Heaven” song, and don’t even get me started on the KISS albums!  LOL (Kids in Satan’s Sanctuary! Look out!).  I imagine the kids now days get a real earful over Marilyn Manson LOL

I get a kick out of all the “christian rock” music now.  I gues, that beat is okay this way.. as long as they are not dancing for “the flesh” and only for God.   My how things keep changing.  LOL

Can anyone seriously blame me for putting off talking to my mother. Ok Ok.  I’ll call her tommorrow.  I promise…

~smj