In Search of Faith18:41 Jun 11 2008
Times Read: 1,170
My coven is discussing religion and their beliefs. We are trying to allow the kids to have discussions to express their beliefs, with no worry of reprecussions.
This is a story I wrote a long time ago. Over the years I have added to it, but it will better explain me, my troubles and how I became the person I am. Its long, sorry about that...but enjoy.
“What you think of Jesus, Jayme?” asked the Sunday school teacher. My friend had brought me as a guest. “I don’t know, I have never met him”. Giggles. She smiled and said, “You don't have to meet someone to believe them”. Then I dropped the bomb. “How can you believe in something, you can't feel or touch?” She gasped and the room went silent. “You don't believe?” she asked in an astonished voice. I repeated my question, with sinking feeling I done something wrong. She frowned and immediately grabbed my arm and half dragged, half pulled me over to the minister. She proceeded to tell him the conversation we had and he looked at me furiously. He grabbed my arm and marched me to the first pew, directly in front of the crucifix. Telling me to sit quietly until my ride came. Crying, I asked what I had done wrong. He simply stated, “If you don't believe, you don't belong with the other children.” He left me in the empty church, crying, being stared at by Jesus on the cross. His eyes condemning me.
My mother was Protestant, my father Methodist. They gave my brother and I the freedom to choose whether or not we wanted to attend church. They felt when we were old enough, we could make our own decisions about faith. My brother eventually returned to the church, I'm still undecided.
We were brought up on the beliefs of the Bible, not necessarily the stories. The joke in my house that we only know the Bible by what Bill Cosby tells us. I couldn't name the Ten Commandments but I don't believe I've ever broken one. Respect everyone until they show they didn't deserve my respect. I think of people’s feelings before I speak, I treat people the way I wish to be treated. I don't lie, cheat, steal or do drugs. I always a true friend no matter the consequences. I always try to help someone in need. I try to be a good person. I was brought up believing if you accomplish asserting these beliefs into your life, you be happy. You'd be rewarded. I found out the hard way that there's more to it than that.
Then growing up, I was an extremely sensitive, extremely emotional child. Sensitive to the point of being able to read peoples so well, I could almost tell what they were thinking, what they were feeling. Unfortunately, I would take everything that was said or done personally. Because of this, teasing was extremely hard for me. I took everything to heart. This of course caused a lot of heartache.
I grew up knowing my mother suffered from Multiple Sclerosis and my father was a volunteer fire fighter. I learned early about people and responsibilities. Unfortunately, I matured a lot faster than my peers did. I learned first-aid and CPR at 13 and enjoy the ability to help people.
I first job was babysitting for a family of eight children. I was only six months older than the oldest but as I said before I matured early. Somehow I managed to keep these kids ranging from the 8 months to 13 years from wrecking havoc. One night, while driving me home, the mother asked me if I had been saved. “From what?” I asked. “You are such a good role model to my kids. You respect your elders and are a mature responsible person. I can't believe you haven't found the lord.” I asked her, “If I’m such good person why do I need to be saved?” Again, I felt like no matter how good I was, it was still unacceptable. I wouldn't be “accepted” without the Lord.
As I began high school, I realized I was still unacceptable. My peers seemed immature to me, the teasing I endured was on going, I became part of a group of people who were misfit in one way or another. Most my days are spent, helping people with their problems. From boyfriend /girlfriend problems, abusive alcoholic parents, supporting a friend from her mother's breast cancer, to teenage pregnancy. I help everyone understand different points of view and gave them several options to help them make their own decisions. All the time feeling good about helping people but also feeling like everyone's mother.
During this time, things of my life were tense. I was sinking deeper and deeper into depression. Thinking suicidal thoughts, unable to answer the question of “Who would miss me?” My father's behavior was becoming more and more erratic and unpredictable. Pushing, shoving and hitting me, was becoming common. Most of this was unpredictable. You never know what would set off. Now I knew what the phrase, walking around on eggshells that meant. I was becoming more and more confused of what was good and what was bad. If I was abused for my whole life, I probably wouldn't question it but I hadn't been. So, I assumed that I was being punished. That I had done something wrong. For what, I don't know. I sank deeper into depression, cursing God for my horrible existence. Hadn’t I been true to his rules? Then why was I unhappy?
My only true friend at the time that I felt I could trust at the time, was named Casey. Casey was a lovable hundred twenty pound AKC yellow lab. He had long legs, large expressive brown eyes and a big barrel chest, that I could cry on. When my depression cause me to have insomnia, I would go out into the living room and sit with Casey. If I cried, and he would sit as close as he could, stick his chest out and turned his head. He was the first shoulder I ever cried on. When I was on crying, Casey would lick my tears away and then lay down in front of me. More than once I have woken up, on the floor, with my arm draped over him
Some people believe I’m giving Casey human traits. He was a very sensitive, empathetic, and caring dog. The first friend that I trusted my heart with and didn't make judgments. He understood when no one else did.
My father and I were finally diagnosed with chemical imbalance that caused us to be depressed. With medication, things improved. Received associate degree and was hired as a counselor at a Catholic summer camp. I was homesick was eventually asked believe for several reasons. The main one being, that was hard to explain to the kids, why I didn't get communion. Again, unacceptable.
Eventually, I felt something positive happened in my life. I met John. John was a volunteer fire fighter with my father and a mechanic. He came from extremely religious family. In the two years of dating, Christmas was the worst. What if they found out I didn't believe? Every time I stepped into the church, I waited for someone to yell out, “she is the non-believer.” I'd sit with tears falling silently down my face, ready to hide when everybody went for communion because I'd be the only one left in the pew, then they would know..
But after our marriage, our lives began crumbling. John lost his job and nearly his life, when the lift gave away from under the ambulance he was working on. Thankfully, he was un-injured but now unemployed. We ended up living in my parent’s basement for the first two years of her marriage. John gave up trying to get ahead in life because we always seem to be slammed with another problem, just as we're getting ahead. What finely made me give up hope of was the untimely death of Casey, due to a vets indiscretion.
Why me? Was I cursed for life? Why didn't I deserve to have something other people had? John was eventually was hired at another job that paid better, with a better benefit. Yet I was still employed.
One day, I was shopping at a craft store, came across the calendar that had no weekday but every date had a prayer to the Lord. I read a couple and left the store. But I kept being drawn back to these mini prayers. Finally, I bought it. Every morning the first thing I do is read this little prayer. It's a simple seven-dollar calendar, everything is changed.
I was hired and in answering service, where I've excelled even as my own expectations. My eventual goal is to be a 911 dispatcher, I believe I can do it. My husband and I bought our first home, we've caught up on bills and only had minor problems on our minds.
Did all this happen because I began reading those prayers out loud? Or did our luck just change? I find myself believing in angels and becoming more spiritual. I believe God sent me Casey, when I thought no one cared and then John was there when Casey was taken away.
For several years, I continued to read those prayers but things kept going wrong in my life. My husband began drinking after the loss of his grandfather to Cancer. With the drinking came harsh words, uncontrollable anger and the abuse began. I was so desperate to be loved and not to loose my marriage that I did anything that he said. I become the slave to his Master. All due to the guilt trips of, “If you love me, you will let me do this?” I gave up volunteering in the community as a Firefighter and EMT because he made me feel guilty for not being there for him when he got home. I became anal about having all my chores done, to avoid the criticism and ridicule. After years of John treating me badly, I began chatting online. It was so liberating to be able to tell someone, knowing that it wouldn’t get back to him and getting counseling from perfect strangers. Two strangers stand out in my mind as guiding angels. First was Huntsman. He was a firefighter somewhere in Arkansas and we became fast friends. Second was Smokeater630. A volunteer firefighter in West Virginia. Both these men, were having troubles in their own marriages but were attempting to save them, same as me. After chatting for over a year, I believed these men were my best friends. They urged me to get counseling and to get out of the situation. They promised me, that real men don’t hurt their women like that. Real men, cherish and protect their women. It took several years of them telling me that for me to begin to believe that I didn’t deserve the abuse for a minor thing like not having dinner ready for when he came home.
When I began thinking about having an affair, I realized that I could no longer be married. I wanted out of the relationship and I wanted closeness. I was lonely. One night I came to bed, thinking that I had to save this marriage somehow. I initiated the lovemaking but it turned violent. He held my arms down, kissing and biting me as ..well raped me. I yelled no, told him to stop and fought him as much as I could. But he was relentless and made sure I came in spite of myself. I was so embarrassed, so ashamed and felt that I had deserved to be treated that way…..after all, that’s what he told me. I left him a week later. The reason I waited a week, was I didn’t want my parents to see the bruises. Silly reason, I know.
John didn’t handle it well. He began stalking me. Waiting for my parents to leave the house to try to get to me. One night he sat outside of the house, on the back porch. He had pulled a chair over to the doorbell and just sat there pushing it, for about 2 hours straight. I was home alone but online with my friends. They told me to call the police but I didn’t want to go offline to do it. Apparently John took his anger out on our 6 month old Yellow lab puppy. Lady Harlequinn, or Harley, didn’t understand why I left and since she was technically his dog, I left her. I kick myself every day for that decision. Every day, I would go by the house and see her looking out the window for me. When several neighbors told me of his hitting of Harley, I stepped in. I told him give me the dog or I will take you for everything. So, I got Harley back but the damage was done. She had never fully trusted anyone again and is a meek quivering dog that breaks my heart, every time she thinks I’m going to hit her. Basically, I started having panic attacks and lost about 40lbs in 4 weeks. My doctor told me to get out of dodge. So, I did the most dangerous thing in the world, I went on vacation and visited all the people I met online, including Smokeater630.
I can’t say it was love at first sight, but I had fallen in love with the image he projected online. He was solid, was definite in his feelings of right and wrong, dependable and loyal. Pat (smokeater) was about 6 feet tall, with red hair and green eyes. He always had a smile on his lips and a laugh in his eyes. The second time I came down to see Pat, was during Christmas. He had kicked his wife out for cheating and numerous other things. Apparently, John had began smoking cigars like his father. I saw him several times attempt to put out the cigar on Harley’s nose while we were together. So, when Pat lit a cigarette, Harley started giving him attitude. She wouldn’t totally bark at him, but she would stand in front of him, half barking at him. When the cigarette went out. She was fine. I finally realized her problem and told Pat. He got down on the floor with Harley and took her paw in his hands. He told her that he wasn’t a mean man and wouldn’t hurt her or her mommy ever. He also promised that nobody would ever be allowed to hurt either one of us again. After that, she never gave him attitude again. And I was in Love.
When I lost my job, Pat came up from West Virginia to get me. We married about 2 years ago, surrounded by our family and friends. It was outside, performed by a minister, one of the patients that I had transported numerous times. His family were jewels and made me feel welcome and I never felt the stress I felt with John’s family. I now know that no marriage will work, if you don’t get along with the in-laws. Everyone I spoke to, who divorced, had trouble with the in-laws. Mine were jewels.
When I first moved in with Pat, I had a difficult time adjusting. Simply, I had been trained and brainwashed by John, thinking that every little thing had to be done before he got home. The first day that Pat arrived home, I was in tears, crouched in a corner of the kitchen because dinner wasn’t ready and I didn’t get all the laundry done.
One month after Pat’s and my marriage, I woke up to the inability to feel my legs. After 2 years, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and I apparently became untouchable. My husband started ignoring me. I was totally dependant on him until I proved that I couldn’t work anymore. I got a monthly check for being disabled. I had planned to do things, to become a EMT instructor, but for some reason my check kept disappearing, along with the $17,000 I got in back payments. I paid off all the bills and bought a truck for Pat, since he needed reliable transportation. But I got nothing in response but to have my money used and to be used myself.
I went from one husband abusing me, to the next ignoring me. I felt like a leper, unloved, undesirable and ugly. I never left the house unless it was go to the store. I kept his house, did his laundry and cooked his meals, with nothing in return. It became expected of me. When there was an emergency with my father down in Florida, I was asked to come down to help out with my mother, my grandparents and to get my father settled after his heart attack. I was just at the end of my own MS attack. Instead of coming with me, or stuff….he wanted me to stay at home, take care of him. I decided to leave and drive down. I planned my route to go past friends, so if something happen, I would have someone to call. My husband hit the roof, wanted me to drive down a specific way, so I would be close to his friends, taking me about 3 hours out of the way.
The day I left, I waited until Pat came home. Hoping to get a cuddle or some loving, since I wasn’t going to be gone for almost a month. But nothing. I got up and asked him to help me take my suitcases to the car, nothing. So, I left, no kiss, no hug. No drive safe, no “I love you”, no “call me when you get there.” Just complaints that he would have to deal with my stupid dogs and with the house by himself.
On the way down I stopped to meet Hellsguardian69. A friend I had made on VR. I stayed a day with him and another friend. It was great to have these men, seemingly cater to my every need. When I left them, I not only was giving crushing hugs, kisses and told I love you. I was told to call them if I needed them and to call when I get there to know I was safe.
These two strangers said everything my husband couldn’t be bothered to say.
The 8 hour drive, I went over my life and everything that I discovered. I thought about my relationship with Pat for a long time. During the following weeks, I felt useful, admired, trusted and respected. My phone calls with Pat would consist of him telling me all about him and his work. Including taking my money to go and get boots for his job with another woman. I got pissed at him for not even asking about me or my father and told him what I felt and thought, but that fell on deaf ears.
After I came home, I tried to talk to him. He was so proud at how clean he kept the house, but it was still a pigsty in my world. The counters in the kitchen hadn’t been wiped down and there was still food left out on the counters, rotting. The living room took a garbage bag to clear the garbage in there. It was disgusting. Along with piles and piles of laundry still on the floor, as the only laundry he did was his uniforms for work. For a couple weeks, it was us tiptoeing around each other. I finally asked, “Are we ok?” A simple question. But it was a 2 hour bitchfest, telling me everything that is wrong with me. That I spend all of his money on VR and Photobucket ($30 bucks every 6 months). That it was my fault that he attempted to become a cop (and failed because I wasn’t a good enough trainer to keep his ass in gear to pass the physical but also that his shoulder had a pinched nerve). That I supposively cared more for people online than him. My response was simply, they pay me more attention than you do. He told me basically after this 2 hour diatribe, that I had a choice to leave or stay, but if I stayed things would change. He would take away the internet and long distance, he would take away my cell phone and I would be the proper wife to him.
Sorry but been there done that. Those are the beginning steps to isolating me, more than I already was. In boondocks WV, more than 8 hours from my own family in any direction. I had been isolated by my first husband….and I wasn’t going to do that again. So, on Jan 2nd, I told him I was leaving him. End of Jan, after I asked for some of the money returned to me that we used to pay his bills, I was kicked out of my home, with my two dogs out into the snow.
For months, I was frustrated that I seemingly failed again in my marriage. Twice now, I ended up walking away, because my husbands didn’t want to do anything but control me. But want me to cater to them, to be their slave, their housemaid and their mother. Sorry but no. That isn’t what a marriage is about.
I am in a relationship now with a man that loves me unconditional. He doesn’t mind me singing and dancing in the kitchen, while I cook or clean. He doesn’t mind, coming home to a hug and a home cooked dinner. He doesn’t mind taking me out to a movie, or to dinner. Or out with friends, just to have a good time. He cleans the kitchen when I ask, cooks dinner at least once a week. But the key is….he respects me. He understands my past and knows what I need. Every day, he gives me a hug and a kiss. Every day I hear I love you, every day, I am touched, both emotionally and physically. You can’t get much better than that.
Through this all, I had no god. I had no religion. I felt that god had forsaken me. Ignored me. I began looking at other religions. I found paganism, with the help of my new man. A religion that worships the environment, the animals, the forest, the water, the wind, the moon and sun. It doesn’t insist that I go to a church and be judged. It doesn’t insist that I pay this said church 15% of my income for its upkeep. The church is the forest. Can’t get better than that. I am still new to this religion but I like the idea.
Things that I have learned? Churches often don’t act as they preach. They ridicule, put you down and insult you, same as anywhere in the world. Some are a bunch of hypocrites. How can you preach the word of the lord one day and then backstab people, degrade them and make them feel small the next. Only to be forgiven every Sunday when they go and get communion. Sorry no.
Its interesting talking to LordV about the differences in religion. I recommend it, as he has very definite views. I believe there is a all knowing being and I do still talk to him. But this is my search in faith.
COMMENTS
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Stipke
19:24 Jun 30 2008
Wonderful. :-)
thesavageant
19:39 Jun 30 2008
Hmm..
Kontradiction
20:55 Jun 30 2008
Thank God...
Vampirewitch39
13:46 Jul 04 2008
There she goes- keeping us safe. :)