Archive for November, 2011

I’m Going to Be a Bad Catholic

Yes, I am.  I’m not going to listen to those angry, narcissistic, abusive, self-centered traditionalists.  I am not going to listen to their demands that everyone attend the EF or the belittling of the priesthood.  I am not going to accept their putdowns and comments that women should shut up and never been seen or heard and that they are the cause of all the troubles in the world.   I am not going to pray in Latin.  I am not going to listen to Michael Voris or read or watch anything by him and I never have and never will.  I am not going to look at modesty threads or at thread about the Mass on CAF.  I am not going to worry about praying the Rosary all the time.  I am not going to look at an article of clothing and worry if it is modest or not.  I am not going to worry or think that there is more to do or need to do to be better.  I will not think of my depression as a sin but as an illness that needs treatment.  I will not listen to garbage about how I’m not a true Catholic woman because I am not married, have kids, and not a stay at home mom who homeschool.  I am not going to worry about being Catholic enough and to meet some traditionalist’s personal opinion.

I am going to be a Bad Catholic in that I am going to be honest and do the best I can.  I will trust the Church.  I will listen to Her and Her Groom, Jesus.

I am going to follow what the Church teaches.  I am going to be me which is what God wants.  He created me to be me not some automaton that goes through the motions.  He wants me to be me and live the faith the best I can with His grace.  I will pick the spirituality that best fits me rather than have one imposed on me.  I will attend the OF and not worry about attending the EF.  I will be grateful that I can have preferences in how I worship and pray and that the Church is far wiser in these matters than I am.  When I go to Confession, I will confess my sins and not worry about doing it perfectly precise but honestly and with contrition however imperfect it may be.  I will take my medication to help with my depression because I need it to help combat the bad thoughts and the pain.

This video has been helpful.

Spiraling Downward

I hate being off my medication especially since it isn’t something I chose.  Sunday was bad.  Everyday this week I didn’t want to go to work.  Work itself wasn’t bad (except for the one individual telling me how to live me life and the other telling me how to do my job, which I already know how to do thank you very much since I’ve been doing it a whole lot longer than you, idiot).

All I want to do is hide.  To run away.

The bad thoughts are back.

The ones that tell me that I am not a good Catholic because I haven’t been to Mass, that I don’t pray in Latin and attend the EF while zealously promoting it.

That being a woman means I can’t be educated, that I have to hide and not feel my emotions, that I need to wrap myself up in a burqa, that I am stupid and ugly.

That by not being married and having kids I am going to Hell since I am not a real Catholic women.

That women need to be in abusive relationships as punishment for being born women.

That spanking, actually beating kids is a good idea and that women should be to.

That women should be locked up in the home never to leave.

That women are property.

That I can’t have any likes or dislikes because that means having a self and I have to die to self to be a good Catholic.

That I am unlovable.

That my parents were right about me not amounting to anything.

That having dreams was stupid and I should have just settled, actually should just settle for the lousy job I have now and not look for anything else.

That I deserve to be punished.

That crying is pointless and that I need to suppress my emotions and feelings and show happiness all the time.

That I need to jump on the traditionalist bandwagon.

That I need to wear skirts and veil all the time.

That I need to suppress any individuality.

That I deserve to be treated badly, to be abused as punishment for my depression, for being a woman.

That I am going to Hell for not going to Mass even when I need to sleep and for when I couldn’t go because I couldn’t handle it.

That I will be rejected by God for not hanging on even when I can’t handle it.

That I am already lost because I have depression.

That I need to pray the Rosary all the time even though I feel no connection to it.

That everyone is silently laughing behind my back at all the stupid stuff I do.

That I am going to be fired from my job for no apparent reason.

That I am going to lose all my money because the company I work for decides it wants it all back.

That I am useless, worthless, unlovable, ugly, in need of punishment, stupid, not wanted, and damaged.

That trust is never going to happen.

That I will never be loved.

That I will have to get married even though I don’t want to and that I will have to become a stay at home mother and have a dozen kids.

That everyone will think that I am making this all up.

That people will abandon me for having depression.

That people will abandon me for not being what they want.

That I will never have a dream come true.

That I am evil.

That I can never be loved by God.

That everything I do right now is pointless and useless.

I hate this and I hate myself.  I want my medication back and that truly scares me because it means I am more broken than I can fix and I don’t want to be that broken that I can never be fixed.  I didn’t want to go on medication but I did and now I need it just to survive.  I feel like such a loser.

Here I am in tears again and the only place I can talk about all this is here because I don’t have anybody in real life to talk about all this with.  I hate being me.

I Can’t Handle It

Going to Mass right now.  I managed last Sunday and the vigil Mass for All Saint’s day but today was totally out.

This is also day two after finishing my first prescription of my medication.  I won’t be able to to get another till I see my doctor next month which means I have to get through a major holiday (Thanksgiving) without something.  This is a bad time of year for me.  From now until about Easter is a major bad time for me.  Holidays are not good things, not the way they were dealt with in my family.  Too much backstabbing gossiping, the put downs, the verbal abuse, the silent treatment, the need to be better and more successful, the comparing to my sisters, etc.  There was no love in the holidays only abuse and negativity.

Today was a bad day.  Not so bad that I want to run away but bad enough that I wanted to stay in bed and not do anything.  I don’t even want to go to work tomorrow but I will because I need the money.  I hate depression.

 

In the Box

No, I’m not in the penalty box in a hockey game.  It’s where I feel I am in regards to several issues that I’m dealing with right now.

First, the medication I am on now does actually seem to be working.  However, switching from being a graveyard shift to a dayshift is causing havoc on my body.  It’ll be several months before everything settles down. With the new schedule, I have managed to get away from one of the biggest work problems and that’s a good thing for me.  My body and mind still haven’t realized it yet but they will and things will be much better.  Another good thing about being on dayshift is that I am doing a lot more so my energy level goes up.  It also means I’m more tired at the end of the day but I also feel like I accomplished things and actually did something.

Second, I am and am not sure I can handle going back to Mass.  I was able to finally attend an All Saints day vigil Mass Monday night.  Yet, I am having problems with the thoughts in my head.  Reading the stupid crap traditionalists have written on CAF and whatnot have really screwed me up.  I still have thoughts about how to bash on women (they worthless, useless, always causing men to sin, should be stay at home mothers and wives, women are property, never to be educated, etc) which is really bad since I’m a woman.  I hate that I’ve learned to hate myself because of my sex.  My own family didn’t acknowledge the fact that I was a woman.  I had to figure that out on my own.  I was made to hate and ignore my own body because I was a woman and because I wasn’t what my parents wanted.  Now in my attempts to get away from that I’m running right back into it from so called traditionalists and faithful Catholics.  I won’t even get into the whole Quiverfull/Patriarchy/Vision Forum fringe garbage.  It’s like any advancements women have made are forgotten or ignored or labeled satanic and that if women just went back to being their husbands’ slaves then everything would be perfect.  No it wouldn’t.  Denying who you are and what you like and squashing all that down and stuffing it into a box is bad but that’s what many want.  They think of women as children and property not as people.  And many of the people with this attitude are WOMEN.  Why do women fear other women so much that they have to strike out and hurt them?

Third, I’m still stuck on the idea that other people get to do things that I am not allowed to do.  Like, they get to be happy and I have to be miserable.  They get to have dreams and lives they want and all I get is a dead end job with no possibility of advancement and stuck for the next thirty years.  Or they get to live their faith however they want (with in reason) and I have to follow a strict regime of rules and prayers and still not be a good Catholic.  Or that they get to spank and I don’t.  Now, I don’t advocate spanking but this is where this all stems from.  I got spanked, largely for anything and everything, especially for stuff my sisters did, while my sisters got rarely spanked if at all.  At least, growing up, I figured on some level that eventually I would be able to spank someone smaller and weaker than me and my rage and anger would be satisfied.  I feel like this got taken away from me, that my ability to spank and punish and hurt and let out the rage and anger were taken away from me and all I’m left with is this feeling of being told to suck it up this is the way things are going to be from now.  That’s it.  But wait, nobody else had these things taken from them because they never had them in the first place.  My sisters never had the rage or the anger or the pointless blaming for other people’s wrongs.  I got all that but they got away with murder and it hurts.  It hurts that they had my mother’s love and all I had was my mother’s anger and rage.  That’s the legacy she left me.  She never showed me love.  It was either rage, anger, neglect, or indifference.  Very little praise and never any love.

I think this is why I have a hard time making women friends (plus, I’ve been “betrayed” by several girl friends in the past) and look for someone to take her place.  I never had a mother in the emotional sense.  I physically have a mother but we have no emotional connection.   She doesn’t love me and I don’t love her.  What little love she did have she gave to my sisters.  Now I’m not saying my mother is evil or bad.  I realize, after reading several psychology books, that she was raised this way and didn’t make the choices to break free of this parenting.  It wasn’t largely her fault, it’s just the failings of past generations that have continued on down to mine.  My dad’s family wasn’t much better but his was also much larger and much different.  There was affection but my dad didn’t really know how to relate to having all girls.  They still are guilty of some things but not everything.

So I have a hard time with the concept of a loving God.  Distant, sure.  Occasionally there for a special moment, definitely.  But unconditional love is not something I’ve ever know or experienced so it’s not something I can fathom.  It’s too difficult.  It’s not real.  It can’t be real.  Someone love me for me?  You have to be kidding me.  I’m used to conditional love.  Being loved only for what I can do and not being loved when I can’t.  Only being “loved” when I make someone else look good.  I understand unconditional love in an intellectual sense but not in a heart/emotional sense because like I’ve said, I’ve never experienced it.  Yet I am asked to believe something I cannot wrap my mind around, that I am loved.  Actually, it’s more like I don’t want to believe.  When you’ve been unlovable as long as I have, being loved really screws things up.

I have no emotional attachment to the Catholic faith, at least it doesn’t engender an emotional response in me.  I almost feel burned out, numb even.  I don’t want to go to Mass. Confession, sure.  It’s the first step in going back but yet, it’s easier and harder as well.  I believe everything the Church teaches but the people make it hard.  The people and Jesus.  I don’t connect with any of them.  Being emotionally damaged, it is hard.  Right now, I’m not sure I can handle Mass.  I need to go but my body and my emotions can’t handle it.  Not right now.

 


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