I was raised in church. Like, literally. 3 times a week +
6-7 day “revivals” a couple times a year + 1 week VBS + summer camps + teen
retreats + whatever-else-came-along.
While everybody else was watching the ’85 bears win the
super bowl, I was one of, as I recall, 3 or 4 people in church, two of whom were my mom and
I. ON SUNDAY *NIGHT*. The preacher didn’t
even want to be there. I could tell.
At some point, via all this emersion, I suppose, I became a
company man. I believed, baby. Whatever they said, I believed it. I mean, it
MUST be right. He’s standing on an elevated platform in a business suite in
front of a cross and an American flag waving a Bible, for Heaven’s sake. He
*MUST* be speaking truth.
I’ll never forget listening to a preacher decrying the state
of our society, the decay, the decadence, the Satanic influence, the “illegitimate”
children.
I hadn’t seen Austin Powers yet; but if I had, I’m sure my
response would have been “Ouch, baby. Very ouch”. Illegitimate ... that's me...
By that time, I suppose, I was beginning to understand that
I wasn’t like other kids. In the late ‘70’s or early ‘80’s in my rural community, kids had a
mom and a dad. Period.
Or, at the least, they knew who their dad WAS.
Not me, though. Nope. No idea. Never met the guy. Don't even know his name.
Sadly, that was by no means the worst of it.
My mind was highly analytical and critical, and yet utterly awash in unintelligible sophism that I was too terrified to question. That combination produced a clear and unavoidable result: I shouldn’t exist.
I was a symptom of all that is wrong in the world. I AM the
rejection of God’s plan. I embody the great fall of our civilization. The man on the elevated platform in front of the cross and the flag wore the business suite, waved his bible, looked me right in the eye, and told me so.
If two people hadn’t flipped Almighty God the bird and gone out and SINNED, I wouldn’t exist.
Wouldn’t exist. Shouldn’t exist.
I’m never sure how much of my dumb-fuckery is caused by
condition x, and how much of my awareness of condition x is just my innate dumb-fuckery
looking for a reason to exist, but here’s the deal: I had LOTS of dumb-fuckery,
and it seems to have largely related to all of this in some way.
I worked hard for
many years, and I thought I’d sort of dealt with this and moved on. We can’t
wallow in things forever. At some point, we need to say, “well, yeah, that
sucked. Glad it’s over.”, and get on with it.
Which brings me to the present time.
Today I was finally able to look deeply at some problems I’ve
been having in relationships. I emphasize the *I*. These problems are clearly not the fault of the
other people. They are MY problems.
I examine it, and I see this … what? Cause? Condition? Commonality? Call it
what you like, I suppose.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with that. My initial
reaction is to be so incredibly sad that those people who happily brain-raped the innocent for all of those years are somehow still speaking through my mouth, and so long after I thought I’d dealt with it and moved on.
This is normally where I turn this into something positive for
people who are going through something similar.
I'd say something like, "the people who are making you feel unworthy or unlovable or 'illegitimate' are DEAD WRONG. Cast off those chains."
I just can't do that, though. Not yet. I can't tell you "this is how you do it", because clearly I haven't done it, yet .
I’m going to sit quietly with this. I'm going to be still, and keep it company. The mud will settle. The right action will arise of its own accord. The energetic, emotional, and psychological patterns will disintegrate. I've seen it before. I've done it before. The process begins. So be it.
I don’t want this new flaw, having come to light, to obscure my view of how
far I’ve come, though. I’ve done well.
I remember so much anger, bitterness and hatred. Especially hatred - reserved primarily for for myself. For what? Being human? For existing? For existing.
I lived long with so many regrets forged in decisions made out of
desperation to just stop the pain.
But also, I kept battling. I fell often, but I generally fell
forward. I looked at the problem, worked hard to see it for what it was, and did the work to
resolve it, over and over again.
And, ultimately, I made some decisions that I *AM* proud of.
In spite of myself, I managed to become roughly the man I always wanted to be. I've kept some promises that were important to me. I've done alright.
They can’t have me anymore. I don’t want to be angry or
resentful. I’m sure they were doing the best they knew. But, they can’t have me
anymore.
They don’t get to decide what is an acceptable reality. They’ve
proven themselves too given to magical thinking.
They’ve
proven themselves too inobservant and unrealistic regarding the behavior of others, and too divorced from reality concerning their own.
They don’t get to decide what society should look like. They’ve
proven too eager to throw away their own convictions when the situation calls
for it, or toss aside the very Gospel when it conflicts with their instincts or their politics.
They don’t get to decide what is and is not *legitimate*.
I am free.
