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

“sex is the most awful, filthy thing on Earth, and you should save it for someone you love”

So, I was doing some much overdue blog surfing… and went to one of my favorite blogs – http://parentingbeyondbelief.com/blog/, and I happened to see a post called: “sex and the balls of the evangelical”, and the following quote at the top of the page really cracked me up.

“Life in Lubbock, Texas taught me two things: One is that God loves you and you’re going to burn in hell. The other is that sex is the most awful, filthy thing on Earth, and you should save it for someone you love.“  –Butch Hancock, country singer/songwriter

Now, I don’t really know Butch Hancock’s work – but, this quote alone was enough to make me want to run out and buy his CD.  LOL

The rest of the blog post there was also verrrry interesting…  talking about the latest trend with many Christians – „Purity Balls“.  I love Dale McGowan’s take on this…   so go there and read it:  http://parentingbeyondbelief.com/blog/?p=235 . 

However, it wasn’t so much the Purity Balls, but the general topic of sex and religious outlooks on it that really hit home with me today. 

It just so happens that today I am recovering from yesterday and the night before…  when I discovered that my 11 year old son had been going on to some not-so-kid-friendly websites recently.  To put it bluntly – I discovered that when I thought he was doing his homework on my computer – he was actually looking at naked women. 

The poor boy wasn’t smart enough to cover his tracks…  and didn’t realize that his dear old mom knows a thing or two about computers.  So, it was easy to see that he started off searching for things like, “women’s underwear”, and  “see through underwear“  and  “games with naked chicks in them”…  which worked it’s way up to “naked women“, and “big boobs“…. and unfortunately those led to some fairly hardcore websites. 

I       was       shocked. 

Mortified. 

I literally never thought in a million years that he was even thinking about girls yet!  Which, I realize is pretty stupid of me.  I was mad at myself for not putting that porn filter“ back on my PC.  I actually just got a new computer fairly recently and am still getting it set up – and hadn’t gotten around to the porn filtering software yet. 

So, here I was… kicking myself in the ass for not seeing this coming… and also mortified and shocked by what he had seen.  I was worried about him.  Ok.  I admit it, this was as close to panicky as I’ve felt in a long time.  

I called my husband and rambled on somewhat frantically.  How could he have done this?  How could I have been so stupid to think he wouldn’t do this?  What did he think about what he saw?  Was he going to be ruined for life now?!?  

My head was spinning. 

Our kids had already gone to bed… which was a good thing because I was half ready to freak out at him…  and I knew that, really, that was the last thing I wanted to do… or should do.  I needed to calm down. 

So, my husband and I talked… and he said, he would talk to our son the next day after school.  It was his day to get him off the bus, so that worked out well.  We agreed that we didn’t want to make this into an already bigger deal than it was… that we didn’t want to yell and scream or freak out on our son about this. 

We wanted to let him know it was natural to be curious…  find out how he felt… what he thought about things he saw… did he have questions?  At the same time I wanted to let him know that while sex is natural and not a bad thing…  still, what you see on websites is not really “natural”, or “real”, and that it was easy to wind up on websites that even grown ups shouldn’t be looking at… and that people can do and post really bad things on-line,  kids and people can get hurt… and that people can even go to jail.. blah blah blah.  All this, while still not freaking him out or making him feel like he is a terrible kid.  We agreed that we would use this as a chance try to open the doors for communication and see if he has any questions or what he wants to know…  but, also let him know he can’t do it again…  (especially since NOW I have the filtering software back up!).  

So, two nights ago, I spend a good portion of the night searching thru my computer and my husband’s laptop…  talking to my husband about it… and researching on-line just what the best way to handle this might be.  What is “normal“?  (as IF I don’t know there IS NO normal, by now).  I even wound up ordering a couple books on-line.  One to give my son that talks about puberty and changes…. and one for my husband and I that talked about talking to your kids about sex. 

I then went to work yesterday and worried most of the day about this.  I couldn’t help it.  All I could think was, “I am SO not ready for puberty with my son! When did my little baby grow up?“. 

I wondered how my husband would approach him?   If my son would deny it or not?   Would my husband be able to make the points we discussed?  I mean, my husband is a great guy, but he’s not really known for his communication skills.  Could he even bring up the things we discussed?  I was worried… but, I also knew this talk was better coming from him.  Besides, my husband has a great way of handling big issues really calmly and rationally…  (it’s the little things that send him over the deep end). 

So, I worked… and I worried myself sick all day yesterday.   

I called home around 4pm yesterday.. figuring by then they should have talked… and I had to know how it went before I headed home from work.  I wanted to know what I’d be coming home to.  My husband told me calmly and rationally how it went.  It went smooth.  No denial.  Some embarrassment.  No yelling.  Some discussion.  Rules were made.  Lines of communication were opened.  Computer privileges were taken away temporarily. 

This sounded a lot easier than I thought it was going to be.  It sounded like no big deal.  Was that a good thing??  It is, right?  I was torn.

I still felt nervous about coming home.  How would my son look me in the eye?  How would I look him in the eye?  How should I act? 

I walked thru the door, and my 11 year old son playfully tried to surprise me, like he always does.  “Boo!”, he shouted as he jumped out and ran past me.  I looked at him curiously.  He started telling me about his school project.  Nothing unusual.  He was all smiles.  Chattering on.  I saw no sign of guilt.  No shame.  I hid my confusion and listened on. 

After a while, I couldn’t take it…  I said quietly to him, “so, I heard your father had a long talk with you”.  He looked down and said, “yes”, a little embarrassed.  A little guilty.  But, no more so than when he got caught lying to me about something stupid.  I said, “OK.  Well, he told me what he said… and,  so I’m not going to lecture you or anything” (A look of relief on his face appears).  “Your father and I both know it’s natural to be curious – but, we need you to know that you can’t be going to those websites, right?”  (right).  “Ok – well – we can talk more later…  and if you have any questions you let Dad or me know, ok?“  - (OK). 

That was it.  ??  Two minutes later he was back to himself.   Talking.  Playing.  He certainly didn’t look scarred for life or anything.  I thought, at first, that maybe he was deliriouslyhappy… relieved that we didn’t kill him or anything. 

Then, I thought about how my parents, especially my mother, talked about sex to me when I was a kid.  Sex was evil.  Nasty.  Disgusting.  Something “bad“ kids and bad people did…  even talking about it or saying the word was bad.  Hell, even THINKING about it was BAD.  If I had been caught doing anything like my son was doing, I never would have heard the end of it.  I think I would have contemplated suicide if I knew they had seen the same naked pics I was looking at.  I would have felt so ashamed.  Of course, this mindset didn’t stop me from being curious or seeing things I shouldn’t have seen.  It just made me feel tremendously guilty about them for years…

No wonder I was so freaked out and worried about my son!   I was putting myself in his shoes – or putting him in MY old shoes.  ??   It didn’t occur to me until after seeing his reaction that, luckily for him, he is NOT in my old shoes.  No where’s CLOSE to those shoes.  So he has no reason to be panic stricken.  He has never had the evils of sin and lust pounded in his head.  He’s never been taught about the dark powers of the flesh, and how disgusting sex is… or how terrible and weak one must be to indulge…  Or had the kind of fear of hell and judgment instilled in him that I did. 

No.  He knew he did something he wasn’t suppose to do… and was looking at stuff he wasn’t suppose to be looking at.  That’s it.   No, he doesn’t know (and hopefully will never know) how terrible it is to have such much fear and guilt over something so natural.   If nothing else, I did something right when I threw out those old shoes of mine and didn’t put any other kids in them…

This taught me a bit about myself too.  Just how much I was affected (and still am) by the way I was brought up.  I mean, my reaction was like a knee-jerk one… and it took all my self control, common sense, rational, and my husband to keep it in check.  I still had to live through it to really feel that it was okay.  And, today was a whole new day and it doesn’t seem like so big of a deal at all.  This confirmed to me how I need to be careful not to carry  the unwanted, but so ingrained, feelings and reactions over to my own children.  

Oh yeah.. and it taught me that I need to install a porn blocker!

~smj

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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.

Blast from the past.. (Feb 82)

So… for shits and giggles.. I pulled out my old diary… I hadn’t looked in there in a long time.   I randomly opened to Feb, 1982…  when I was in my sophmore year of high school and 15 years old.

I wrote:

on 2/7/82

…..Tomorrow I’m gonna be grounded. I’ve got a D in SS and we get our report cards tomorrow. Bummer! Now I’m gonna be grounded for recess.  I’ve got to get my ass in gear. (how many times have I said that?) What worries me more than that are my absents. 7. Dad’s gonna bitch more about that.  Maybe I can change it to a 4.  Mom being home all the time now since she quit working is a real pain in the ass.  I have to listen to her nag first thing when I walk in the door after school.  Plus, she picks through my room.  I’ve been arguing with her a lot lately.  I’m not sure who starts it or what about exactly.  She bugs me though.  In just about everything she does.  I can hardly stand it.  Maybe since she bothers me so much I’m automatically snotty to her.  Sometimes, I think she is looney.  I guess that’s pretty rude to say, but that’s how I feel a lot of the time. Friday night I stayed at Kelsey’s.  Her bf got us some Boone’s Farm wine – Tickled Pink. Yum. We sat in the woods on the bridge and drank it and talked and talked.  She was telling me about her parents and stuff that happened when she was little.  I’ve heard it all before, but I think it’s good to get these things out…

2/8/82

I thought we got report cards today but we didn’t.  I’m so disappointed (sure!). Tonight, Dad was taking some pictures of me with my new camera.  I wanted to send one to M.  Dad said he wanted one of me too because he didn’t have any recent ones.  I liked modeling, kind of.  I did my hair and makeup.  It was fun.  Until Mom started acting all weird.  She tryed telling me he was trying to take dirty pictures of me… or “cheesecake” pictures as she called them?!?  I couldn’t believe her.  I don’t know how she can serioulsy believe or say that! It really upsets me.  She says she doesn’t trust him.  Then, when I said, “well, I do” – she gets mad and starts throwing that shit at me about him making my brothers and me think against her. THAT I really hate!! If I have any bad thoughts about her, they got there by themselves.  Dad wouldn’t think of exploiting me or anything.  As if! I mean come on! I’m sure!! The thought of it makes me sick! I know Dad was pissed too.  K wasn’t in school again today. Ths time she really was sick, I think. I see H in the halls.  Usually with her bf.  What an ASS.  Well better go.

2/9/82

Howdy. Today was ok, in spite of the fact that I got grounded.  Dad only yelled at me for about 10 minutes or so.  He didn’t see my report card until about 9:00 when I got home from babysitting.  He would have yelled more if I hadn’t changed my absences. I changed an 8 to a 5.  I used my nail file to scrape over it, then I filled over what I wanted to stay there again.  It worked great. Mom didn’t even look.  She didn’t say much of anything.  Maybe Dad will let me off for Recess.  I’m not counting on it. I stayed after school in Industrial Arts.  I wanted to. I get so much more done then I do in class.  I hope I can at least get an A in that.  But, I hear he grades harsh.  I don’t think I’ll mind being grounded for vacation all that much.  I haven’t been going anywhere’s a lot lately anyway. Besides, I’ll want to sleep in on vacation anyways…

 ==========

 And so went my teen life…

It’ s funny… I remember the picture incident vividly.  I was really confused when I realized what my mom was implying.. and then shocked and disgusted.  I have the pics from that day..  I am wearing a blouse… buttoned up to my chin practically… but with my hair all done nice, and make up on.  I was trying to look pretty because I wanted to send a picture to my boyfriend who lived an hour away from us.  But, I certainly would never try to look sexy with my Dad taking pics…  gross.  Still makes me mad thinking about how my mom made me feel that night…  dirty or something.  When I had done nothing wrong.

I did get a couple decent pictures out of it though…  I even ended up getting one with my brother… and one with my mother… and had my mom take one of me and my Dad.  I actually love those pics… but, it’s bittersweet because of the other part of the memory that goes with 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

Deviled eggs, it is….

I‘m not sure how I wound up needing to make and bring deviled eggs today to a little party we are going to at our friends home, but I did.  Oh yeah..  I remember now.. I ASKED what I could bring and was basically assigned these.  I sort of tried to weasle out of it, and offered up a couple other suggestions… but, nope.. she reeeeeally wanted deviled eggs. 

Don’t get me wrong.  There’s nothing wrong with deviled eggs.  And, they are certainly easy enough to make.  Hell, I even like eating them once in a while.  I just don’t like making them, or bringing them to places. 

You see, this is typically what my mother makes and brings to all social functions.  She will bring deviled eggs, and a pickle tray (which is often a can of olives LoL).  Nothing wrong with that either.  They are one of the few things my mom can actually make really well.  As I told my son after a really bad meal at Gramma’s once (when he asked, “what was THAT that grandma made???”) – My mother (or his grandma) is a lot of things, but a good cook ain’t one of them. 

So, really – it’s not about the eggs…  it’s just the old, “I don’t want to be like my mother” issue that is coming into play.  Which, if you think about it, is a really stupid reason to not want to make deviled eggs when your friend asks you to.  Which is why I didn’t tell my friend “no, I won’t make those”.  It’s silly.  I know that.  I am not like my mother, and making deviled eggs doesn’t make me like her.  So, why then am I dreading going to the kitchen and making them, and then bringing them to this party?? 

I sort of feel sorry for my mother and I…  not having the typical bond mother’s and daughter’s have. I mean, I love my mom… I know she loves me…  but, we have never had that bond and probably never will.  She was not the one I turned to for comfort or for help with problems.  Not that she doesn’t mean well…

*sigh*  So hard to explain… Even when people KNOW my background they often look at me with this chastising look that makes me feel guilty.  Worse yet, even though I obviously know my own background and reasons… I still feel guilty about this even without any chastising looks. 

My mom will often make comments how she always wanted a daughter… so she’d have someone to be friends with… do things with… and then she’ll either make a joke about how instead of that – she got me…  or sort of just look at me… wistfully… looking for a sign that I want that too.  I don’t offer up any.  We will never have that kind of relationship. 

We do have a relationship… and I feel like we are pretty close… there are some things I really admire about my mom… and I know there is love there from both sides.  I believe we are lucky to have that – as there were times I thought about removing myself completely from her life.  I’m glad I didn’t and that we have at least the relationship that we do.  But, I do know what she means.  And, I do wish we could have had, or could have now, that type of relationship… but, it’s just not going to happen.  We are in two separate worlds sometimes.. and we just don’t see eye to eye on most anything.  I wish that was different….  especially now that my Dad is gone… I really would love to have the kind of mother-daughter relationship most of my friends have.  But, I don’t see that realistically ever happening

It’s all I can do to bring myself to make deviled eggs today…   but, I will.  

~smj 

The Call

Saw mom yesterday at my brother’s. She seemed to be doing well… except she started in again about not knowing where she was going to live in a few months… and complaining how broke she is. I mentioned that my oldest brother said she could go there… and she scoffed at the idea. Too far from her church, she said. Well, then, I told her she better start looking into cheaper apartments.

She was fishing… hoping I’d give her the slightest hope of coming to live with me.  She was being downright blunt.  So, I was very careful not to move too fast or give even the slightest glimmer of a chance of this to her.   Sort of like being at an auction, and afraid to move and make a bid.  LOL

After going on and on about how broke she is, she then went on and on about her latest plans for ministries. She’s flying to Nashville for “The Call, Nashville, direct from Tennessee with Lou Engle”. Then, in a few weeks later, she is traveling to help out with some other missionary trip to help (and preach to) folks still rebuilding after hurricane Katrina.

Ok – the Katrina efforts at least sounds like a worthy cause and hopefully they do help some people, and not just preach at them.  I give her credit for wanting to help.  I struggle with believing that is her true reasons for going… but, okay… who cares… as long as it DOES help some people. 

But, this weekend prayer meeting, “The Call”?? Come on.   Now I know why she was talking about fasting before and all.  40 day fast she was doing.  40 days?? 

She is spending her savings faster that she can fill out withdrawal slips. She already sold her home and all her stuff. She is no longer collecting any compensation from her missionary group. She is paying her way for everything. I wouldn’t have a problem with this, if she wasn’t at the same time laying a sob story and a guilt trip on me about where is she going to live and how broke she is. 

But, what REALLY irritated me, is when she implied that I should take my 10 yr old son to this… because “how will I ever know if I don’t”.  ??  Huh?  How will I know what, I asked?  After some hemming and hawing, I realized she was referring to his hearing loss.  My 10 year old wears hearing aids… born with a mild hearing loss.  I was appauled at her suggestion. 

Yeah… that’s JUST what I want to subject my son to.  ?!?  A bunch of people laying hands on him and praying in tongues… trying to tell him to believe that God will heal his hearing.  He would be totally freaked out.  He’s never been exposed to such things (and I hope won’t be anytime soon!). 

 Plus, I told her that I have spent years telling him that his hearing loss is not that big of a deal… just one small part of him, but, something he has to deal with.  How we all have problems and things we have to deal with.  How he is lucky he can have hearing aids and that he is so smart and has everything else going for him.  And, he deals with it very well.  It doesn’t slow him down at all. 

And, now she wants me to get him thinking his hearing loss is something really bad that he should be praying to God to heal?   And, when God doesn’t “heal” him?  Then what?  He can feel like he doesn’t deserve it? 

I told her that he was fine… and God can worry about helping someone else who really needs it. 

 UGH! *sigh* Every once in a while, she reminds me of why I do not want her to watch my kids by herself.  I could totally see her dragging him off to something like that behind my back… 

Then, I get this email from her tonight:

—–Original Message—–
From: (MY MOM)
Sent: Thursday, July 05, 2007 12:34 AM
To: (Everyone and their mother)
Subject: Fw: Another way to be a part of The CALL

Dear friends and family,
Pass it on! I’ll be in Nashville. Maybe see me on TV !

—– Original Message —–
Subject: Another way to be a part of The CALL

In case, you want to participate, or know someone who does, but can’t make it to TN or another planned event… This is another way to join in…

Then, on 7-7-07, GOD TV will broadcast the 12 hour prayer marathon event, TheCall, Nashville, direct from Tennessee with Lou Engle.

GOD TV has previously aired TheCall from London and San Francisco, where tens of thousands of Christians have united to see change come to their nation. Now more than 100,000 will be gathering to pray for moral revival in the USA and GOD TV will be bringing this full 12-hour broadcast LIVE into homes across the USA.

Lou Engle is the visionary and co-founder of The Call solemn assemblies, a movement of prayer gathering young adults to pray and fast for breakthrough and revival. The Call began in Washington, DC in 2000 gathering over 400,000 people to pray and fast for the United States. Since 2000, The Call has gathered hundreds of thousands people to pray both national and internationally. Now, after a few years of dormancy, The Call has been revived beginning in Nashville, and GOD TV will be there to carry it LIVE. Link is below…

http://www.god.tv/

Ok, I’m officially annoyed… 
…. and tired…..

Good night.
~smj