If bibles were beers and life were one giant party...

Boy oh boy would we have some awkward stories to tell LOL. Actually, this is quite possibly the most perfect illustration of what I feel my current experience is. Some would say it's sacrilege to speak of such things on Easter Sunday. I say it's more like the universes cruel joke on me, but whatever.

I enjoy a good adult beverage now and then, okay probably more now than then, but anyways. I'd say my experience has been that I can have a good time almost anywhere and don't need a drink to tell stupid jokes, laugh really hard, or do whatever else people do while drinking. For whatever reason though, every once in a while I don't feel like drinking. Still having that invite to a party or a gathering or even a bar, I'll go - happy to be out and to see my friends - ready for good jokes and catching up and lots of laughs and even a little gossip, I often find my conversation goes a little like this:

Do you want a drink? Where's your drink? Hey, what are you drinking? Marisa, can I get you a drink? Somebody get this girl a drink!! OH LOOK EVERYONE, Marisa isn't drinking... Are you not drinking for a reason? It's just one drink, shoot you can have just one!! I'll be right back, let me get you a drink! Marisa, where's your drink?

That's about the time I step aside and go get a glass of cranberry juice or Red Bull.

What is it about me not having a goddamn drink that makes everyone so uncomfortable? Why does me holding this fake drink suddenly make it ok? Now let's get this party started! Then we talk and we share and we laugh and the night moves right along and everyone is happy - even me!

SO, if bibles were beers and life were one giant party, I would be the one making you want to crawl out of your skin. Why is my participation so necessary for your experience to be pleasurable? It's not like you can't still talk about it, share with me stuff, and tell me what makes you happy or inspired.

For the majority though, it seems spirituality is no longer a personal journey. We must beat down every door and pound the pavement and rove the bus stations and laundromats and leave no one behind! Okay, I'm in, sign me up... Wait, what?! There's MORE invasive questions? Now it's not even good enough to do that. Suddenly you feel entitled to know all my inner workings... the why. It's not that you want to know why, but so that you can change it once you do find out. It's not even okay for us to do the exact same thing, I also have to do it for the exact same reasons as you?

I'm fighting a losing battle here.

Can't everyone just be okay doing what they do? I don't eat meat, but I don't need you to stop for me to be happy. I honestly am so happy with my iPhone and think the world would be a better place if you all had one, but in reality you don't. Okay... AND? Does that make me enjoy mine less? No! Does that make me uncomfortable? No!

I just want to be left alone. I want time for these wounds to heal. I don't want to play this game anymore. I just want to be real and be accepted for who I am, yet no matter what I do, I can't please everyone. I think everyone should quit putting the weight of their happiness and fulfillment in my hands then because I am going to disappoint you. Sigh.

Death by a thousand cus

It is the cut. The unexpected sting. I thought I was prepared, but I didn't see it coming. I willingly did it though. I pressed forward knowing there would be UNknown. My future lay in Pandoras box. I had to open it.

As I gasp for air, I now ask 'what did I do?' The weight is so heavy. It challenges my inner strength. I take a deep breath to steady myself. Softly I whisper 'This too shall pass. Just go in, Marisa. It's what you agreed to do. It's what they expect you to do. It is what they NEED you to do.'

It is the cut. My tender skin splayed open. At first cold, then warm as the blood burns forth. I press it to my lips seeking relief, but oh how fleeting.

The clock tick tocks. Slow and heavy it thuds, every second taking it's precious time. Stealing MY time. One more minute. One more hour, siphoning away my will, my joy.

As I drift to into the void, seeking that happy place where this is not my existence, voices weave their way through my subconscious. Instructions. Proddings. Reminders of my failings.

It is the cut. A now familiar ache as another wound reveals itself. New and old, together they make a collective cry.

Pseudo-friends approach. Reassure. Their smiles tender, their soft spoken eyes beckoning me to follow. As I take that step, I remember the judgment. The shame. The abandonment.

It is the cut after cut. I beg for it to stop, but my cries remain unanswered. Flesh now exposed and raw; I am the essence of pain. Every movement seers. I recoil in surprise at how overwhelming it is, but that only brings more discomfort.

I lay down and drown myself in tears. Why did I open that box? Like a woman hearing the caustic words of her lover and begging him to just hit her, I pray for them to finish this.

Instead, another cut.

It is my life of pain and my death by a thousand cuts.

Do they know I am slowly dying so that they think I may live?

The house of fear

So everyone likes Oprah. Ok, I like Oprah. I hate her because I like her so much. Who wouldn’t like her? She’s overcome adversity which she talks about openly. She is strong and powerful but she cries all the time. She tells lame jokes that only she thinks are funny. She has more money than god. She LOVES food and still struggles with her weight. Yeah, pretty much.

So anyways, She has an XM radio show called the “Soul Series”. I subscribe to the online video podcast of her feature interview each week. It’s 15 - 30 minutes, it’s free, and I really enjoy it.

Anyways, I tried to find a way to upload the video, but you can’t... although anyone can download it for free. This week was a 2 part interview with Rev. Ed Bacon. Now, if you read my last blog you can imagine I deleted this immediately... But dammit Oprah if I wasn’t willing to watch it for you.

I transcribed part of what this guy shockingly says: (He’s talking about really “religious” people and how they react to you if you have a different view of them)
-------
There are two houses... The House of fear and the House of love

The house of fear puts god in a box, puts our theology in a box, puts spirituality in a box.

And depart from the language that I use and find comfort in, then you are starting your own church, you’re the antichrist, you’re not religious.

This criticism that comes at you is because you are pointing to something that is deeper and more universal. People so impassioned about just the wording of religion!

What you do to quiet your anxiety and fear is to find certainty - which is relative. And then if someone challenges that certainty then you attack because that attack comes from the house of fear.
-------

I am SOO feeling that. The interview is almost an hour in total. He says A LOT of very reassuring things.

This whole "House of Fear" thing is EXACTLY what happens to me! I just have such a hard time seeing what the big deal is... why they fight so hard to shove stuff down someone elses throat! Now I know. Because they are just scared. It’s all they have to hold onto that brings them comfort. And one of the few relative things that cannot ACTUALLY be challenged because it is so intangible. How do you disprove faith? But as much as I can’t disprove it, they can’t 100% prove it either, so they try to force everyone else to just agree so it’s not an issue.

Well, anyways - This resonated with me. You should watch it!

So much more to learn

Ever wonder how much MORE there is to figure out? I'm just starting to realize there is A LOT more...

This last week has led me to realize I'm not anywhere ready to step foot in the public. I just don't know what to do. I've had the revelation that I am the source of uncomfortable tension for others. Whether it's friends, lovers, or family - I'm the one that causes them to mutter 'fuck... What do I do with her?".

This sucks...

There is SOO much going on in my life. Some which I'll talk about, some which I won't. I still have so many hang ups too. Religion is really working on me right now. I don't know what to do. All i know is at this point, I'm avoiding the whole thing. Acceptance is my primary concern, and based on my past experiences organized religion doesn't offer anything close to that to me. It offers structure and rules and a support group of policers to make sure you stay within the confines of that structure. But step outside of that support and that acceptance, that love, is gone!

So I sit here surrounded by people who say everything I want to hear. 'we love you' 'we're so glad to see you' 'we want to know everything about you' 'how can we help' it goes on... But I don't believe them. I want to, but it brings tears to my eyes even as I type this. My flight instinct is hard to ignore right now. I want to go where no one knows me. I want to go where no expectations are placed on me. It just seems so easy to just walk away.

Yet all that is my fault. I put myself back in this predicament for the love of my family, my brother. Unfortunately, it feels as good to be back as it does hurt to be back. I had no way of knowing what would happen after I opened pandoras box.

So, now here I am. I cringe at even the word 'bible'. Yet for hours on end each week I smile and show up for meetings and bible study so that everyone else feels good about their place in this world. (and I'm not even participating at half what I should) Little do they know the price I'm paying on the inside. It is a fire storm of torment in my stomach. In my heart. I clinch my teeth and pinch the inside of my arm until it bruises to keep from screaming out. To keep the smile on my face. To keep the anger and the tears inside.

They must see the strain in the back of my eyes. The lump in my throat. Yet they hug me. They touch my hair. They compliment. They 'encourage'. I want to run and never look back. However, I don't want to be the person filled with negativity and hate and anger. I don't want to crush their souls and take from them what they've taken from me. So I simply smile.

You know what's the worst? That I fear this is just me. The entire world derives comfort from these things. Faith. Strength. Hope from these things. So here I claim I want to be a good person. A balanced person. A well rounded accepting open happy loving person. So how long do I sit in my house until I can truly be around people and be all those things when this huge area of their lives comes up?

I hear what some of u say. 'it's not this way' 'we've never had experiences like that' 'the bible teaches love and acceptance at it's core and anything different is a misinterpretation' okay - I hear you. But it doesn't change where I am right now. What I've committed to. Ugh!

And in essence, I think I'm a very spiritual person. I think it's all just a matter of language. When I get up in the morning and 'set my intention' many of you would call that prayer. When I'm at a loss for words and I plead to the 'universe' or 'mother earth' you could substitute the words god or jesus. When i try to live a good life and be a good person its the same as you... So why do I have to say its because of the bible? Why does whatever brings you comfort have to bring me the same? Can't it be different? Or is it me? Am I resisting something I shouldn't? Usually when I have such a strong and adverse reaction to something it's me that's out of line. Sigh.


Want the real truth? I'm so tired. I'm so Empty. How do i fix this or fix myself or change my thinking? How can I give what I don't have? How do I recharge? I can't get away from the constant drain. I don't even know how to be a friend. I just work and I 'maintain'... But I fantasize about just walking out the door and never coming back. I'm lonely, but I'm already alone.

I just want you:
To like me.
To be nice to me.
To want me around.
To choose me.
To stay...
Yeah, but I've heard it all before...

So maybe it goes a little deeper than just religion. The distrust came from my religious experience, but the despair... That's all me. Ha!

I just sat next to a priest with his beads and hand movements and robes and his bible in Latin. I'm uncomfortable.

I have a SCREAMING baby behind me which is easily heard over my iPod. I'm tired.

I'm sitting in a row of chairs right now. All empty. Did I mention the whole row is EMPTY? Why does this lady sit down right next to me? She's RIGHT here. I'm touching her with my elbow. I'm beyond tense.

Does no one see? I don't have the energy to deal with this. I don't want to walk... I want to run...

Mother earth, Can't it just work out? Hey YOU, Can't you just choose me? And YOU, Can't you just enjoy my presence and not try to change me? And can't you over there just be real. Why is it all so hard?

I haven't left yet. My stuff is packed but I'm going to try it for one more day. Maybe tomorrow will be better...

-------------
UPDATE
-------------
Tonight I'm going to my parents. My brother and his wife are in town from New York. You know, that brother who I haven't spoken to in 4 years. (Even after I've been reinstated...) That brother whose wedding I wasn't invited to. That brother who lives and works at the religious organization headquarters that's caused me so much tribulation. That brother... Can't wait to go and get "hugs" and "happiness" and "love" from someone who doesn't give a shit about me. We'll laugh and we'll smile and he'll ask "So how have you been?" and I'll say "Fine"... {I'll wonder how I summarize 4 years of emotional hell into one word} We'll eat dinner and talk about how god is good. {I'll throw up a little bit in my mouth and pinch myself to hold back the bitterness I have inside} We'll tell stories from our childhood. {I'll feel like I don't even know him and decide I don't want to.} Time to go and play nice. {Time to take that valium I have hidden in my jewelry box}

Tell me again why I shouldn't just walk away?

Mind Fuck

Seriously, no one can truly fuck you up like your mother. I know it has different effects on boys and girls, but WHEW... my mom... I can't even put her into words.

I think the SICKEST part of all of it, is that I'm just like her. Stubborn, strong willed, independent, headstrong... (When I have to be that is... I'm not sure how I come accross to others since I'm desperate to please and fear I come accross as rather submissive... But I guess that's just because it's what I want to do...) However, we always seem to be that way AGAINST each other. And you know what that means? That means "I Lose" because she's the mom, she's older, she's just that much more evil.

Sadly she doesn't see how she has created this competition between the two of us. She's always saying how proud she is of me, how far I've made it in life at this age compared to her, how she loves me, fights for me, needs me, but then she's quick to remind me she's still better. When I bought my cute little sports car, she was the first to remind me that she had a Mercedes 600 series AMG. When i built my new home, she was quick to inform me that her house cost close to a million dollars. When i got my 1st coach purse, she went and bought a bigger one. When I told her I've been sticking to my diet and I've lost 10 lbs so far, she has apparently lost 20. When I mention how hard my divorce and excommunication from church is on me, I get a 2 hour speech on how much more aweful her marriage to my father was or how unfair her own reinstatement was. When I say I feel pretty, she reminds me that she was professional model when she was my age. When I say how well I'm doing at my job or that I got a raise or that I've just crossed the 10 year mark, she's the 1st to say how fortunate she was to find a man who takes such good care of her and that she doesn't have to work.

I can't win. I'm never enough. My whole life I've been fighting, fighting SO hard to prove to ANYONE that I am something good. But it's never ENOUGH. I'm not smart enough, pretty enough, fun enough, established enough, successful enough, tough enough, good enough, gracious enough... ANYTHING ENOUGH!

It's maddening.

And I'm not sitting here saying that I really feel that way. Of course, the rational side of me says there is always someone out there who is going to be better than you. I can't be perfect. I guess what I'm saying is, I'm tired. Keeping any sort of self esteem and blocking all those thoughts out of my mind is EXHAUSTING. Especially when she calls me OFTEN and this just keeps happening. Have you figured out yet that I just got one of those calls this morning?

And when I told her how I felt, her words were "Well, you are dead wrong." And when I got upset and screamed and cursed at her, she said that I was sick and twisted and that she would just never call me again because she couldn't take the emotional beatings that I KEEP giving her. When I asked her not to martyr herself of the phone, she cried hysterically and said she's just fighting for me and missed me and needed me, but that I was heartless and made her feel like she could never do anything right or be good enough for me.

... silence ...

Maybe I really am sick and twisted. Maybe I am the martyr. Maybe anything... I have nothing to ground myself. No guage to let me know whether I'm swimming up or down. But I have to be tough for my brother. I have to be tough for myself. I have to be tough for her. And I just have to block all that out and stand on my own 2 feet. Make up my mind that I'm fine and just work on being good and loving and kind and honest so that no one else will ever say I've created these feelings in them. I may be the only one I know with THIS exact situation, but I am certainly not alone in dealing with trialsome family issues. It's good to know I'm not alone.

Thanks for reading this. If you think I'm really fucked up, please tell me and straighten me out. I fear I need a reality check. LOL.

Religious Oppression

You know, I don't really talk much about religion because it's hard to explain to someone who hasn't lived MY religious experience. Especially in a blog. Plus I have this incredible guilt about bad mouthing them to the world for fear that if there IS a god he would be quite displeased with me.

BUT in talking with a friend who has shared the hell that is witnessdom with me, i had the revelation of how strongly it has affected me. Not just in my growing up, but now in my adulthood as the rejection is palpable.

I guess I never learned how to make friends as a child. How could I? I spent all that time at school, but couldn't really develop a relationship because there was never any after school possibilities. (Parents wouldn't let anyone who wasn't a witness come over) and we always lived so far out no one would come see me even if it was acceptable. No after school activities, no school dances, no football games, no prom, no ANYTHING. I truly spent all of my time alone or only with family.

Being sheltered was not the protection parents thought it was. It was a life sentence for me. I feel like I'm years behind and always trying to catch up. Instead of dating or having a boyfriend or just hanging out with friends and going to the mall, I was on home studies cooking for a husband that was really my dad, caring for a baby that was really my brother, and nursing a dying patient that was really my mother.

I'm unsure of every step I take because EVERY STEP is a new one. At 25 I'd never celebrated a birthday, a Christmas, a mothers day. Never drank a green beer. Never set off a firework. I'm days away from turning 28 and I've never even been on a date.

And now that the witness ties and family bonds were broken, I have this huge abandonment issue. If EVERYONE I KNOW ,including my own mother, can turn their back on me while I repent and beg for forgiveness (to no avail), how could I not doubt the sincerity of those who claim to BE THERE for me now? That's why I don't TRULY lean on my friends when i need them. SIGH

In the same way, it's caused me to be selfless to the point of injury in my own forgivness of another. That's my problem. Instead of setting a standard for myself and setting boundries to protect myself, I just blindly open up and put MY WHOLE SELF OUT THERE and hold them close to me. I can't bear the thought of someone feeling that cold hearted "rejection" coming from me. I know how badly that hurts.

It's also caused me to realize I don't know who I am. I spend HOURS trying to think what makes me... ME. Yet, I can't choose a direction. I WANT TO DO IT ALL. I'm so starved for EXPERIENCE, how could I possibly cut off even ONE option? It comes off like I contradict myself or that I just lack follow thru, but that's not true. Is jack of all trades, master of none really a good thing?

Is it a contradiction to listen to Pantera and want to get the shit beat out of me in a mosh pit, and then come home and put on an apron and make vegetarian chicken w/ an herbs de provence sauce?

Is it a contradiction to drink wine and listen to jazz and just be a tourist/sightseer on Saturday and then go sit in some bachelors house on some shitty hand me down couch and drink a 40 of Mickey's with the boys?

Is it a contradiction to shop and wear pink and heels and be stupid and immature and totally valley girl today, but spend my time recycling and connecting with nature and meditating on my life seeking for inner peace and positive depth and growth tomorrow?

I've noticed that this same "contradiction" manifests itself as some sort of duality in my personality. In my need to not be judged and therefore not judge others I just want to BLEND in with who I'm with - be accepted. I constantly relive every laugh and sentence and comment to make sure that it was in line with who I'm with at the time. The worry that I said or did something wrong might cause another "cutting off" is more than I can bear. I laugh it off and say "When in Rome.." but does that mean there is no REAL ME?

Let's say I want to be a better designer and web programmer. That would mean giving up friendships and fun to stay in the house and read books all day. Lets say I want to be perfectly skinny. That would mean giving up my free time to cook and clean and be domestic so I could work out at the gym for hours and hours for the rest of my life. I want to work with animals and nature and just be a hippy who owns a communal garden and runs a small vegetarian cafe, but would I have to give up my fast paced, challenging, technical job and my glorious shoes and impractical sports car? I'm lost.

This has of course gotten off subject and bit too revealing for a blog. Talk about opening up and putting yourself out there for rejection...

I think to sum it up, I want people to put as much time and effort into me as I so desperately put into them. I just want balance and acceptance. For everyone to be happy. FOR ME TO BE HAPPY. Think it's possible? In my innocence I have to say yes. I'm working on it. I'm working on it.

:D

Melancholy and my infinite sadness

Sounds dramatic doesn't it? Well it is, so if you want to keep pretending that I'm just happy go lucky all the time, stop reading now.

On this rollercoaster of life, I've found myself in a downward spin. I wish I had the courage to just kill myself and not have to worry anymore, but the eternal optimist in me says tomorrow will be better. It's tomorrow... It's the day after tomorrow... It's still not better...

I just returned from my grandma's funeral. You know, the grandma who hasn't spoken to me in 2 years. The grandma who put religion before family and considered me the... what am I saying? She didn't "consider me" at all. I wasn't even welcome at the hospital to say goodbye. Yeah that grandma... the sweet little old lady that was so affectionately called "Dear Dear" by all that knew her.

As I walk into the hall where 562 people arrive to pay their respect, I'm not allowed to speak to anyone. I am angry, yet i find myself crying. Crying, not for the grandma who didn't care, but for myself. For myself as I see a SEA OF PEOPLE all hugging and "supporting" each other, but not me. Marisa, once again, has to be strong for herself. As I look at my sister who hasn't so much as glanced in my direction for over 2 years, and my brother sitting with his new wife that I was so diplomatically not invited to the wedding. THEY smile, THEY get hugs, THEY get support... THEY are ok. But not me. I will forever wear this scarlet letter. The one that lets everyone know what a wreched whore I am. What a defective reject I am.

It hurts... I HURT...

THEY are all on their way to a huge dinner/gala event. 561 of them were invited. Not me. I was sent home, told to LEAVE. It would be inappropriate for me to "sociallize" OF COURSE. For those of you who have talked to me, you would know my WORST fear in life is for someone to not like me... HMPF... Talk about living your nightmare.

I will never be the same from the experience of these last 2 years. So alone. So unworthy. Marked. How can they do this to someone? Yes, I've made mistakes. Yes, I OWN THEM. I LIVE THEM... But I can't take them back. 2 years - TWO YEARS. Where I gave up everything I knew, my husband, my house, my dogs, my friends, my family and I'm still not forgiven. This from the people who said these "displinary actions" were out of love. A loving reproof to HELP ME see the errors of my ways and return to the right path. Well, if embarassment and rejection and shame is a "loving reproof" then consider me reproved.

So I'm that girl. The sad girl who sits in her house. The wierd girl who cuts herself and cries herself to sleep at night. And why go outside? So that I can spend my evening avoiding the 6.5 millions Witnesses out there who aren't allowed to utter so much as a "hello" to me? I didn't know I was THAT GIRL. You know, the one who is so powerful that simply speaking a greeting to me is enough to cripple your whole faith in god. Be warned...

I have some friends. They say "Call me if you need to talk..." Talk about what? About all the things that I can't do anything about? About all the things no one else could understand unless they had truly walked in my shoes?

I have no friends. All I have is distractions. I don't know anyone like me. I know cool people with husbands, kids, busy lives, things to live for, look forward to. And so I sit here in this house... I work... I work some more. I feed the dog. That about covers it.

So I'm home, home alone, again. And I've lost interest in this subject. It's saturday night, but no ones calling. And I don't know if I want them to. I have work to do. I have some shelves to put together in the garage to store some work decorations on.

Take care all. I'll be fine. I always am.