All the feels

I really miss you folks. I have so many rants to share <3

Maybe after Mother's Day, we can hang!

Xoxo,

Eggs

Oops

So, I never really paid attention to folks who told me stress can make me sick.

That is until I had a lovely visit to the er yesterday. Long story short: fluid around the lungs bad. Anxiety bad. Insurance good.

How are you guys?

Eggs

I’m freezing

Well..okay

So, one thing I’ve accepted in my life is that this do not stay the same. Including myself.

We are all changing. I wonder if that makes me like kimchee.

Death be not proud

My beloved’s father died. It still hurts, to be honest. He was hilarious. He was smart. Was he an ass? At times, yes. But he was human.

I’m not used to his absence. I’ve tried to intellectualize it…but it sucks.

Yes he had cancer, but he beat it twice.

So he won’t be here when I become his daughter in law. Well, technically I was…because that’s how he saw it.

I wanted to learn more from him, but life isn’t fair.

The irony? We were able to say goodbye…but it wasn’t enough.

We love you poppy.

-eggs-

Rage

one thing I wish that was touched on in religious settings is the correct way to deal with anger, or his older sibling Rage. At the churches I attended, rage was seen as something you had to be set free from, not something you must deal with in a healthy manner.

This is something that is wonderfully humane. A reminder that we have emotions. In the realm of anger, there is usually a reason why someone is angry. A pretty legitimate reason. But in church, anger in a human is usually seen as wrong unless it is something god hates. Which keeps shifting. As a result, a person who means well may do their best to keep their anger inside. They want to be a good Christian. So they hold it in, hold it in, and hold it in. Next thing you know, that person snaps at someone for giving them cold bread.

When the truth of the matter is that the bread isn’t a problem, it’s the unresolved issues eating away at you.

You talk to a minister, and they suggest prayer. Same thing the cell leader said. Because no one wants to be in the foxhole with you. They just want to pray once and it be done forever. So they take part of the glory…but none of the work.

They want the testimony but not the test.

And that is bunk. Life is messy. Horrible things happen, and it’s not the will of none but the abuser. They create excuses, gaslight, and push their will into the will of the universe. Saying the horrible thing that happened was god’s will. Which leads to the thought that god allowed it to happen..why. Just why.

So you try to find meaning in the abuse. But there’s no meaning. Only pain and an empty stomach bloated with lies. So you become angry. Or in my case, holding in rage. Which is sinful.

So you feel guilty about the sin of rage and try to never be angry again. But you fail.

Then you end up turning all that rage inward. Because you are convinced that you are the problem. Years of this happening either has you in a church, therapist’s office, morgue, or bar. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that the worst is over. So you close yourself off. Which only leaves more pain IN.

So you’re at a crossroads: either face that anger and work with it or hide it. I’m facing my anger, and it’s scary. Because I’m very angry. I feel diminished by the years that I’ve neglected to take care of myself. Hollow from the stubborn refusal to admit my not so happy Funtime feelings. I’ve cut off the darker part of me to be more pure…to have more light within me. But light cannot exist without dark. And ignoring part of me places me like a 3 legged chair, which is broken.

I desire revenge upon my abuses and rejectors. I desire them to admit that they did what they did to only cover their own hides. Not out of love. But it won’t happen because they refuse to deal.

So all I can do, what only you can do…is to be mad. Tell yourself it’s okay to be mad. Be angry. Focus it into something positive. Say that what happened did happen.

Deal with it. Tell loved ones. Find out what you need to do to heal.

But don’t ever hold it in. Admit that it is there! Because what you do not admit can have power over you.

And don’t let some moron in a hat tell you what is right for you. If you need to cry, do it. If you need to scream, do it.

Because only you know how much it hurts. People can only sympathize.

And if you need to rest, rest. Please take care of you. Place your health first.

Say no to guilt concerning being angry. Say no to guilt in cutting off abusive relationships.

You have only one life.

So get to work.

So Xanax DOES NOT cure everything? Damn.

I am not a fan of bigotry, yet I fully admit that I have my own biases. As woman of African-American descent(what does that even mean anymore…)I often assume that I must “prove” myself more than some of my lighter skinned comrades.

And in some cases, I’m totally correct in that assessment. Yet, there are times I become hypersensitive and miss an opportunity to really connect with someone. I use the term hypersensitive in the idea that I’m putting words in someone’s mouth (or brain). It is a defense mechanism that I’ve had since childhood. Growing up in Louisiana, it was rare that a child of color unabashedly spoke of their love of learning. If there was such a child, they were treated as an anomaly, or worse, bullied. I can still remember the taunts and conversations I had to deal with growing up:

Why do you act so white?

You’re not really black are you?

Black people aren’t supposed to like that.

Black people don’t _____________

And that was just from my black classmates. My white classmates looked at me with a sense of confusion, amusement, or fear. Those who were confused by me usually *got it* by the time they actually talked to me. I’m still friends with some of them currently. Same thing with those I amused. Because I tended to just say the oddest things(my brain works differently…yay add!). I am still friends with them also (Hi Kyle! Hi Travis!).

Those that feared me did the same thing that my black classmates would do, but with a twist. Some would assume making coon jokes was a great idea. The N word was used at times. At a fair with my cousins, some man who was at least three times our age kept taunting us. It took my cousin Danielle to help me out in that situation.

 

In all those situations it became very clear to me that I was *different*. To the black classmates, I was some stuck up broad who needed frequent beat downs to be kept in line. To the white classmates, I was a subhuman weirdo.

Because their parents said so.

Children tend to soak in a lot more than we think they do, which should be obvious. If a child hears degrading remarks about who they are, then they will naturally assume everyone is screwed up just like them or better than them. This fosters a feeling of helplessness and rage. If a child is in a chaotic home, continually hearing how minorities are the enemy then why are people surprised when they grow up and join a terrorist group like the klan or nation of islam?

If an adult has free license to say every hateful thing they think or have heard in front of a child, then why is surprise often the first response? If you tell a child that gay people are an abomination, muslims aren’t real Americans, and that minorities came from eve banging random animals do not be alarmed that they treat others with disrespect. You should expect it, to be honest. Because what you keep at the forefront in a child’s mind or model with your behavior is what you are going to end up with.

I know many are wondering why I am saying such strong words. It is because it needs to be said.

The rash of suicides, homicides, and hate group activity is not because of a lack of God.  These actions occur from the cognitive dissonance many who claim to be good Christian people have. You say that you love God, yet you tell your child that if they marry outside their race or the same sex that you will cut them off. Or worse murder them.

You tell your child that they are Nothing and will never be anything. You beat them, use them for your twisted desires, and break their spirit. All because you do not have the internal fortitude to deal with your demons.

You complain loudly about a monkey being in the white house and call our Muslim brothers and sisters ‘towelheads’.

You come off with this façade of superiority, only to cover your cowardice and emptiness. You join with others who are just as damaged as you, and say that you are richer.

It’s a never ending cycle folks. I rarely quote the bible, but it says that you should train a child in the way THEY should go. This gives the idea that the child might be ‘bent’ in a direction and you are to love, foster, and aid that child to be the best they can be. You are not to shove your dogma, bigotry, and desire for the elimination of all different people/things into them. To do so is to damage them, which then leads to a damaged adult who does some very screwed up things.

So, on this 9/11 we need to remember that for the most part, we can change the world. It’s as simple as volunteering in a poor area or teaching your kids to respect and love others. I do not say tolerate, because one should only tolerate broccoli or badly done fish, not people.

 

 

Angry

I really don’t get it.

Why are people so willing to screw over themselves just to make sure that someone else doesn’t get what they have?

Examples:

Politics: look dems and repubs…. Work together or it’s going to get worse. Shut up, grow a pair, and WORK TOGETHER

- insurance. Really. I’m not going to get a free voucher for an abortion. I’ll just be able to get real insurance without being price gouged.

- same sex marriage. Seriously. Two adults who love each other. Why not? And don’t give me the it’s a sin. What’s really the sin is the fact that it’s 2012 and lgbt folks are thought of as walking demon factories.

- comprehensive sex Ed. Look,kids are going to have sex. And lying to them won’t help.ifyou really want to keep them celibate, give them a 4 year paid account for WOW. Or EVE.

- taxes. You live in a country that has them. Granted, my mom pays more than Mittens Romney, but unless the super rich pay their share….it’s how it will stay.

-Muslims. They freaking exist. Most are awesome. Some are not. Like Christians.

Really….we need to grow up

Who is the lamb? Who is the knife?

So, I took the GRE. And I’m still waiting on my scores. Besides that, I’m trying not to cuss out believers again. It’s really hard when they start calling me a murderer or claim I eat fetuses.because that’s what all nonbelievers do.

So instead of cunt punching folks, I’ve taken two modes of action: posting their stupidity(yes I blur names) or make jewelry. So far, the latter is winning.

What also helps is that I talk to a tight knit group of ex-pk folks. We all have our religious baggage, so no one really pulls the “you didn’t try hard enough” bullshit. Because we really really tried. Hell, if my psychiatric bills point to anything…it’s that I tried too damn hard. But believers don’t want to admit we are out there. Because it blows their whole worldview out the water. If a person can love god so much and after so much time and effort, walk away, where does that leave them? If they weren’t dealing with some gross sin, or bitter, then who is really saved?

If they have legitimate concerns, do we have to listen? And then the fear sets in. will I catch their skepticism? Is this a phase? Are they sinning with their doubt?

And it hurts, because I question myself too. Is this the right choice? Is god really not real? Shit just happens?

As a former Charismatic, it’s hard not to slip into old modes of thinking. I have to constantly remind myself that no one “knows my sin” or is inside my head but me. To think of it, to see the damage, it breaks my heart. Because I inflicted this on myself and others. Just to please “god” and true believers. I wanted, no, craved that acceptance and love. I wanted that assurance that I’d be in heaven and that my broken life had redeeming value. I continually emptied myself because the church said I was just a vessel. That the self was sinful and not to be trusted. I cut myself in two, because I believed that I was sinful, awful, dirty. I was shit on god’s shoe. Nothing I’d do would be good enough.

So I subjected myself to abuse. The pain was my “will being broken” and god getting the glory. Whenever I’d think that I was going too far…I’d rebuke the devil and pray for hours.

By the time I got to where it felt like a literal fight for my soul, I started failing classes, having intrusive thoughts, and nervous tics. I was falling apart, and I did not know how to ask for help. So, I tried to kill myself. I thought that death would be a respite compared to the mental anguish I was facing. I wanted oblivion. I thought I’d be doing everyone a favor, especially my youth church. They got tired of my questioning, my doubt. So they gave me over to “Satan”. Because obviously I was in rebellion. That’s the only reason I could be so sad, twitchy, and not eating..right?

I received their judgement as rejection. And it got a whole lot worse before it got better. I still struggle with self-image/esteem and rejection, but on the flip, I stand up for myself more. I laugh more. I feel more. Yes it’s scary, but it’s a good scary. Therapy and medication are a freaking wonderful thing. That plus good friends has me where I am. I call myself strong now.

Sure I do what ifs, but life is worth living. Not over-guessing. I’m still learning, but I still have hope.

Thanks for staying with me folks,

Noir

I wonder

It’s Samhain, or as we American folks call it, Halloween. I’ve been listening to various artists. One artist in particular I come back to: jennifer knapp.

She’s a Christian artist who was really big in the 90′s, and ended up disappearing out of nowhere. We find later that she left and moved to Australia. If you said wtf, then join the group.

Anyway, she met a nice girl, and decided to come out of the closet. I of course “knew” it(more like wishing really hard) and was all yay for her.

Well, her very fundy fans were NOT happy. Apparently being a lesbian and Christian doesn’t work.

A thought, just a thought:

What if it’s none of your business folks?! She’s in love, isn’t being beat to death, and is being honest to herself and her God.

I mean, if a fundy’s god is that small minded, then something is VERY wrong. I won’t take “you don’t know god’s ways”. That is a cop out and you know it. If he created her, then maybe, just maybe he knows.

Or maybe the idea of sexuality being something you can’t really box scares these folks.
It scared me, a lot. I was taught that my sexuality was not for ME. It was for the man I’d marry or convince myself that he loved me. I was a person that sexual acts were to be done TO, not to initiate. The shame that’s packed into a survivor’s body is enough to light a town. Couple that with the mixed signals one gets in youth church or at single’s conferences and you get a person who feels more like an object that a vibrant person.

And I feel, that it’s what they want us to feel like. It’s easier to debase yourself like a dog when you are told that your container…your body is dirty. It’s easier to depersonalize yourself when the emphasis in on the next life. This one is garbage!

And now, I look at Jennifer Knapp and wonder how she functions. What I mentioned is my own life, and I have to remind myself to breathe at times. I was so used to being an object, so very used to thinking my very normal desires were more kinky than age play…that the mere idea of someone desiring me sickened me.

I wanted intimacy, yet was poisoned against it. I was told to fear the male gaze. To assume that only teh PERFACT man of gawd could love and accept this broken effed up woman…made me my own enemy.

I feel angry, sorrowful, and retarded. I mean it in the fullest since of the word. I am a woman who was in arrested development for many years, and am only now trying to play catch up.

My innocence was stolen twice: first by my molesters, then by the very people I entrusted with my soul. I feel shipwrecked. And yet I can hear my mother’s own voice blaming me. Saying she warned me and that I deserved it.

I wonder if other refugees from fundamentalism feel this way. Just disjointed and envious of those who didn’t go through Jesus camp like training? Or do they never crack?

I wonder