What If

Over this past year my thoughts keep coming back to one thing.

What if I had told you first?

You have every right to be pissed and hurt.  I would've been too, had our positions been switched.  I didn't take you into my confidence.  I didn't tell you before I told the world.

I was scared.

I was angry.

I didn't know what to do.

I have my reasons.  So many people were asking about me.  When I'd be back at church, would I like home/visiting teaching.  I was overwhelmed and just wanted everyone to know that I was done so I could be left alone.

I knew before hand you'd be hurt, scared and that my actions would cause that.

I have no excuses, and for not trusting you I am sorry.

But I am not the only one to blame.

You may never see this but I need to speak.

When you sent me that message, I hoped, hoped you'd call me out on not talking to you first.  I could hear it in the background as you defended the church.  I could feel it as you refused to look at the articles I was pointing you too.  I could sense your pain, and I knew I had caused it.

But you weren't listening to me.  You were already closing your ears to what I had to say.  I had become someone you could not trust, an apostate to your faith, an anti-Mormon.  And I am.  The church had lied to me, deceived me and hurt me, and it has done the same to you.

I see now though, that I shouldn't have pushed as I did to get you to see.  Posting things on facebook, that lacked tack and grace.  But you're just as guilty of that as I am.  All the hope that I'd come back, with stories of people once excommunicated come back, stories of Joseph Smith.

However, your posts turned hurtful.

It hurt, to see that you thought me a coward.  That you thought me ignorant.  Do you not know me at all?

Do you know what sent me over the edge?  What was the point I said 'enough' and deleted you from facebook?

That quote of Boyd K Packer's.  Coward and ignorant are two things I am not.  And I read that vile filth of a quote the day after I'd watched a three year old horse suffer and die.

So yeah, I'd had enough of your passive aggressive facebook posts.  I did a huge purge that day, you weren't the only one.

I had wanted to leave a door open to you.  I hoped, I really freaking hoped you'd actually want to talk one day.  Listen to me, not about the church, but about my feelings.

You never once asked how I felt about the whole thing.  Do you think I put the whole story in that post?

I was terrified.  I was hurt, scared, angry.  I felt like a fool and an idiot.  I knew full well I was facing the possibility of loosing your friendship the moment I decided to leave.  You talked about the beauty of the temple, but you don't understand how cruel it was for a convert like myself.  No family at my wedding, do you understand that pain?

I digress...

You see, even though I no longer officially follow your blog, I have been checking it.

I miss you.

I miss being able to tell you about things I've learned that you'd find fun and interesting.

I miss being able to discuss movies and books and games with you.

I found some awesome inspiration for my stories and I want to tell you about them.

But reading your blog... It hurts.  It hurts because you think I was a fake.

I could have handled things better, I know that now.  Looking back there's a lot of things I would have changed.

Leaving the church was emotionally the hardest thing I've ever done.  I made a lot of people upset, I was an angry, negative grouch for months.

I made a lot of impulsive, emotional decisions that required logic and reasoning.

But... relationships don't end because one person decides it's done.

You sound lonely and it hurts me.  I don't want you to be lonely.

But I can't be around someone who refuses to see that they've caused hurt as well.  I can't be around someone who will choose god and church over a human being with emotions just as real as yours.

I'm willing to admit that I can be wrong and have made mistakes.

Are you willing to do the same?

I've been listening to Evanescence again for the first time in years.  This song fits my feelings so well I cried.

My Journey In and Through Mormonism Part 4

(Geeze it's been a month??  Time flies when you're having fun!!)

Eventually I moved out of the city and the closest meeting house was 45min away.  I stopped attending institute and eventually even stopped attending church.  They call it going “inactive” and that’s a very bad thing too.

But I was working 6 days a week and it was exhausting not having a day off for myself.  So even though I felt horribly guilty about it, I made it a day off.  I eventually went back to church after some friends visited me and sent me messages and stuff, but it was a cycle of activity vs inactivity and the guilt was beating me down.

Then there was the fact that the more doctrine I learned the less it made sense.  So many things contradicted scientific knowledge and proof, and the answers were less than satisfying.  If science contradicted the church, science was wrong.  Rely on your testimonies, the feelings the spirit has used to confirm the truth.  Listen to the Prophet, we know the way, the world will catch up.

Pray, study, obey.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

Your eternal salvation is on the line, don’t put a step wrong or you’ll be miserable forever.  Focus on the next life, everything you’re experiencing now is temporary.  Eternal life was the goal, living with God forever and ever, with perfected bodies and our families at our side.

And that’s part of how they keep you.  Don’t worry, you’ll be happy in the next life. If you endure faithfully to the end you’ll be exalted and never know sadness again.

Truthfully over time, eternal life started to seem really boring.  Did nothing ever happen then?  I love being happy, but I appreciate it because I can feel misery.  And what was that they said about the Garden of Eden?  Adam and Eve didn’t have happiness because they knew no pain… Yet were we not headed right back for that state?

Many questions began to pile up, but I ignored them.  I had received strong witnesses of the truth of the Gospel after all.  I was an elect daughter of God; I would not become one of those, who were prophesied to fall away in the last days.  I would not loose my testimony.

But my fire wasn’t bright anymore, in fact the flames were sputtering, threatening to die out.  And eventually I stumbled across this (article)* from the mormon newsroom.

*Unfortunately I can't find the original article, I had bookmarked it, but it must've been on a different computer.  That being said, here are plenty of articles that relate the same thing:

1. A List of Articles
2. The Church Readies its Members

My shelf began to crack.  Here’s something that the church itself teaches:  (Articles of faith)

1. We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our [own]¹ conscience, and allow all men the same privilege[,] let them worship how, where, or what they may.

12. We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.

If they truly believe in everyone having free will and the ability to choose for themselves… Why did they act to pass proposition 8, and prevent people from having equal rights?  It didn’t sit right with me; it did not sit right with me at all.  It was so wrong, and I refused to believe that God would motivate people to do this; He’s a loving being after all.  But I put it on my shelf, I didn’t think of it.

But it wouldn’t let me go.

My Journey In and Through Mormonism Part 3

 But, not everything in the church is good and the parts that are bad are quite toxic.  I’m going to back up my story a bit to the beginning, so bear with me.

 

I decided to get baptized in Utah.  My online friends that had helped me into the gospel were all going to meet there and spend a couple of weeks together, and I wanted to share this occasion with them.

So, my story was a little different from the norm, and a lot of people were interested in it.  I called the missionaries saying I wanted to be baptized, versus them finding me and sharing with me the gospel.  I was different, and a few people even looked at me in awe.  A few people even shared that they felt I was an answer to the fasting and prayers that my ward had been doing for increased missionary work.

 

That kind of thing gets to your head after a while, but it’s also incredibly frustrating and, as you’ll see, did a lot more harm than good.

 

In the beginning I was very naïve about the ins and outs of Mormonism, and I was getting a bit of a haughty attitude because of the way people treated me and my story (my fault, I know), so I was very confused and irritated when people said they were feeling miserable and depressed.  What were you so depressed about?  You know the truth of the gospel, the Plan of Happiness!  There’s no need to be sad!

 

And my little delusion lasted for a surprisingly long time, looking back.

 

But then the lessons started to really sink in.

 

For one, missionary work, sharing the gospel, is super important!  You’ve been given this great gift!  Don’t you want to share it with the people you love and help them feel the happiness you have?  You don’t want them to get to the afterlife and ask you why you didn’t share what you know do you?  Think of how sad that would be.

Serve your neighbours, your friends, your family!  Serving is what the Lord did, so you should do it too.  It’s also a great way to share the gospel!

Christ died for your sins, every time you do something wrong, you added to his pain.  (Refer to the last two paragraphs especially).  Repent so you can feel the spirit again!

Some of the lessons were even hypocritical.  They cautioned against busyness and doing too much, but then would turn around and reprimand you if you weren't doing enough for the church.  And don’t be busy?  I wasn’t even doing everything I possibly could do, activity wise and I was already dedicated 4 ½ hours to church.  Activities alone.  That doesn’t include the 2 hours a day I had started with reading scriptures.  Then when I started teaching and doing genealogy work, well, it adds up.

But busyness doesn’t count if it’s for building up the Kingdom of God.  That’s the most important thing you can do in this life, prepare for the next and bring as many people to the fold as possible.

 

And guess what the message to women was?  Not only is your most important role motherhood, it's really what you should strive for.  Career?  Dreams?  Goals?  No, no, get married as young as possible, have kids as soon as possible, and give up an individuality you have.  All women should be homemakers, soft spoken, and "sweet spirits".  Your role is to support your man and educate your children in the gospel.

Over time, it got to me.  I never felt good enough.  None of my family members were interested in joining, and I wasn’t pushing it because I love them and respect their decisions, same with my friends.

When I started working again, I felt even worse. I wasn’t dedicating as much time to my scriptures and prayers, some days I wouldn’t even touch them.    Wasn't I an elect spirit of God?  Why did I continually struggle with the basics?

There was always a sense of urgency too.  Prepare for the Second Coming!  Don’t be caught unprepared (Pay your tithing), or you’ll be burned to a crisp along with the wicked people of the earth.  There was never anything specific (it’s all in the Lord’s time) but it was always implied that it was soon.  (And yet they've been talking about it for a while).

So many of the messages are directed to you, the individual, that you become trapped in your own head and feelings.  Am I doing what is right?  Am I on the path Heavenly Father has set out for me?  Oh I should repent, I didn’t pray this morning, I said a swear word, I didn’t go to church, I (fill in the blank).  But selfishness is also bad, you shouldn’t think of yourself so much. 

 

Over time that promise that my family could be together forever became a burden instead of buoy.  It was intensified by my Patriarchal Blessing (a “roadmap” of sorts of blessings and promises you’ll receive in life, worthiness pending), which said I would be a unifying force in my family.  In my mind, my efforts would be the determining factor in my family’s salvation.  I knew they had their free will, but if they chose against it, wasn’t it because I had failed to do my part?

 

And here’s the most damaging message of all:  You’re not happy?  You’ve obviously done something wrong, figure it out and repent.  Come to church, trust in the Lord, we all have the answers.  We can help you.  The Saviour can help you, just let him help you.  (Because, obviously, if He isn't helping we're preventing it somehow).

I read a brilliant comment on reddit once.  It was something along the lines of:  The church cripples you and then gives you the wheelchair.

My Journey In and Through Mormonism, Part 2

So what’s it like being a mormon?  You may ask.  I can’t say what it’s like for other people, but I will say what it was like for me.

I thought I had found the answers to life.  Where was I going?  The Celestial Kingdom (the highest degree of Heaven, more on that here).  What was my purpose in life?  Follow the gospel, helping as many people as I could along the way.  There was nothing for me to fear anymore!  Life was great and I was ecstatic.

I’d wake up in the morning and read my scriptures.  We were very encouraged by the leadership to dedicate some time morning and night to studying.  Preferably the Book of Mormon, as it is taught to be the most correct book on the earth, but the Bible was also very important.  Before I re-entered the work force, I’d dedicate around 45min to an hour, morning and night, pouring over the sacred word of God.  I’d prop open my institute manuals, pull out my highlighters and journal and have at it marking and writing.  It was a great way to start the day.

I also prayed every morning and every night, bare minimum.  Also highly encouraged by the leadership, as it is very important to keep God in your thoughts all day.  He provides for us, shelters us, gives us comfort and guidance and helps us through our day-to-day struggles.

On Sundays I’d go to church for three hours.  I attended a Young Single Adults (or YSA) ward for; you guessed it, young single adults.  Ages 18-30.  Which I honestly thought was great, because I was meeting people around my age.  And we all had at least one thing in common: church.

Sunday meetings are split into three, one-hour blocks.  In my ward it was Sacrament meeting, then Sunday school, then the ward separated into male and female classes.  Priesthood for the men, Relief Society for the women.

Sacrament meeting was the most important of the three, though all are very important.  It’s where we partake of the sacrament, the bread and water (since mormons don’t drink alcohol) and think of the sacrifice that Christ made for us through the Atonement.  Then, for most Sundays, we’d hear talks by selected members of the ward.  They’d cover various subjects from Pride, the Atonement, Christ, Service, etc, etc, etc, and there’d be hymns and music and so on.

Sunday School was all held in one class, though depending on the ward there may be a variety of classes available.  When you first start converting to the church you attend a class especially for investigators (those thinking of joining the church) and new converts.  Think of it as the light version of doctrine. Classes were taught by members of the wards who were called to the position (because it’s taught you were chosen by divine inspiration for the role), and there was often much time for discussion and questions.  It’s where you learn the basics.  Tithing, prayer, repentance, modesty, so on and so forth.

            There’s also, of course, a class for the members who’ve been there for years.  That’s where you go more into detail of the doctrine, the meanings behind it, and how they apply to your lives and what you can do to improve yourself.

Then there’s the third hour where the men and women are separated.  Men go to Priesthood, where they do their manly thing (I’ve never attended) and the women go to Relief Society.

To be completely honest, Relief Society is a tomboy’s nightmare.  Many of the activities (outside of church) were about baking, homemaking, spa days, and the like, and it’s just not the sort of thing that I like to do, all the time.  Albeit once in a while is fun. Who doesn’t like to learn new recipes?  It also stressed the importance of the role of woman in the church.  To be mothers, caregivers, and raising children in the True Gospel of Christ.  I still wasn't sure I wanted kids of my own, but it was somehow appealing the way they talked about motherhood being a sacred privilege.

But I did enjoy having a break from the guys.  It was nice to be among women my age, talking about our role in the church and what we can do to support the men.  Support the church and raise our families.

Throughout the week there were different activities.  I can only account for the ones in YSA, because that’s all I ever attended.   Families are encouraged to hold Family Home Evening (FHE) on Mondays.  Where you get to study the gospel and scriptures with your family!  For YSA, especially in my area since a lot of the members were in the area for school and couldn’t be with their families, they’d hold FHE at the ward building.  I think I only attended twice.  I rarely went, what can I say?  My pony is my first priority.

Then on Wednesdays there was Institute.  Again, another opportunity to learn more of the gospel.  The teacher we had was really great, really fun and I really enjoyed it.  We got to have a lot of intelligent discussion about doctrine, the scriptures and such and it was so good the feel the Spirit so often.  (More on the Holy Ghost later).  It was also great, because again, I get to see and spend time with people my age and the friends I was becoming close too.  In my ward there was also Institute on Fridays, but I also rarely attended.  (When you drive an hour one way to see your horse and the chapel is 20min one way from your house, it adds up!)

Outside of those there’d also be fun things like dances (okay I didn’t actually enjoy them that much, only attended one actually), movie nights, pool parties, and whatever else we could come up with.  The social aspect was good for me and there’s a lot of great people that I met.

It also gave me an opportunity to get over my fear of public speaking.  I gave I think 3, maybe 4 talks while I was a member, and each one was easier than the last.  Until I didn’t even write them out before hand, just read the related material, got up to the pulpit and talked.  I taught a class on doing genealogy work, and did a couple lessons in relief society.

So, I will not deny that there were many aspects of the Church that were good for me.

My Journey In and Through Mormonism, Part 1

I've been thinking about doing this for a while, but I wanted to wait until I was far enough removed from it that my anger wouldn't come into play and take over.  I had some great experiences, and I want to be fair to those and to the people who are good.

But recently I came across a comment on reddit about how those who don't have anything to loose should speak up for those who can't out of fear of loosing everything.  So here I am, with nothing to loose, speaking about my experiences.

It's funny, I look back at I really wonder why someone like me ever chose to actually be baptized into the church.  But I also remember the emotions, feelings and circumstances I was in when I started considering it.

I'd met some girls online who were members of the church.  I was never into religion, so in my naivety and with the way the spoke I thought they all went to the same building.  (I used to think the united church I attended as a kid was just that building, I didn't realize it was a whole denomination).  They shared what it was about with me (and I learned that it wasn't just one building) and there were aspects of it that I really, really liked.

Not to sound like a sob story, but I've met plenty of people in my life and very few have stayed by my side.  Either because we lost contact, they turned out to be jerks, or just circumstances changed.  So, what drew me into mormonism?  The idea that you could be married and sealed to someone you love for eternity.

It was a sense of permanence I hadn't ever felt, and that I greatly longed for.

At the time I decided that I was going to join.  I was very, very depressed.  A couple of the girls and I were talking about it.  It all sounded so good, so happy, it filled me with hope and lifted me out of that dark place.  I've also been an intuitive person by nature, and often used my gut to guide my decisions.  So that, coupled with them telling me that these feelings were of the "spirit" testifying to me the truth of what they were saying.  I jumped right in.  I jumped without looking.

That was the first mistake.

But, I was happy, really happy.  I was going out, meeting new people, all connected by the same thing.  The people were good, nice and eager to help.  It was a community, and it was a place where I could contribute.  There were plenty of activities and things to do, and it kept me occupied, since I still wasn't healthy enough to find work.  So, for me, it really was all it claimed to be.  I enjoyed church, so I didn't mind that it was three hours long.  I loved learning about the gospel, reading the Book of Mormon and parts of the bible.  I loved the discussions, I loved going to institute, signing the hymns.  I loved the Temple more than anything.

I truly, truly loved it all.

Living With ADHD

Okay, so the title makes it sound ominous and serious.  Totally not ominous, but perhaps a little serious.

Society has an interesting effect of causing individuals to want to, to some extent, conform and act similar to their peers.  That there's a standard that we should all strive to emulate and live.  What that standard is, differs from place to place, but is typical in every culture.

Growing up I was diagnosed with ADHD (super shocking right?  Well perhaps the hyperactive portion of it is).  And for a long time I was trying to overcome the fact that my brain works a million miles a minute and notices everything.  Focusing on one task is hard for me.  Before we tried medication, what got me through the urge to do something other than sit and listen was doodling.  I was still paying attention, even if I looked like I wasn't.  Fiddling with pen and paper controlled my impulses to move enough so I could sit still.

Fast forward to grade 9, we finally decided to try some meds.  My grades were the best they ever were.  High 90s, mid 70s were my lowest.  But I didn't feel like me.  Sitting and focusing on one subject just isn't me.  Plus there was the fact that the medication I was on suppressed my appetite and I didn't feel like eating (I know right?!)

Then we tried another one. It worked, but still, I didn't feel like me.  So in typical fashion for me, I stopped taking it.  My grades suffered, sure, but I was happier being me.

During that nasty ass writer's block I suffered through for years  I kept thinking part of my problem was that I couldn't sit and focus and just write.  It took a while for me to remember that I've never, never been able to focus on just one thing.

So what has helped?  Just accepting the fact that I have a short attention span.  That's part of who I am, and there's nothing wrong with that.  Instead of trying to overcome it, or suppress it.  I've learned to live with it, and adjust how I do things accordingly.

Now I know I need to let my mind wander.  So I usually have a movie playing in the background while I write, or listen to music, or just take a pause and surf the internet.  It keeps me fresh and able to happily go back to the task at hand.

What makes me happy though, is the fact that more and more society seems to be shifting it's focus.  Now more people are speaking up, wanting to be allowed to live authentically.  Allowed to be who they are.  To realize that things like ADHD, or homosexuality, or being shy aren't negatives just differences that make the world a beautiful place.  I mean, how boring would it be if everyone had to live the same way?  People wouldn't be happy.

It's Possible to Try TOO Hard

Sometimes I need to be told something over, and over, and over again for it to clue in. Usually by different people, in different situations too. Recently it was with riding, and then I realised (shocker) this applies to everything.

What I mean is, there is a point where any further effort you exert into something, can actually cause a worse outcome. Eg. During shows I would start riding differently than in the warm up, because it must be perfect!!!!! But Belle would be thinking WTF? And in fact, it was much worse than what we can do.   Now I have (finally) learned to trust that she and I know what to do, and I just act when I need to.

Lately I've actually been consistently writing again. Well, minus that week stint of binge playing Assassin's Creed 3. And I've been enjoying it again because I'm not forcing it to happen, but letting it happen. Lo and behold, my quality of writing is back where it used to be, it kight have even improved a little. I may be a little rusty grmatically, but I remember it better by instinct, than by concious decision.

I find it fascinating that achieving greatness is not about putting in a huge effort. But carefully choosing what to do and when to do it, and then just letting things fall into place. I mean, I used to think I understood the concept. But now I get it. It has sunk in.

So if things aren't going your way, maybe try doing a little less?