Daydreams & Nightmares

My therapist says I should be writing more so here goes. (And, yes, I did just begin yet another sentence with "my therapist says".)

I had another unfortunate experience recently. Maybe Rosemary was right and I should just write a blog called "My horrible, terrible, really bad summer". Or maybe my psychic is right and I just have very bad karma. Either way, I was recently attacked by a man I didn't know. 

I was alone and the experience was terrifying. Thank the Universe I had the advantage of an extreme burst of adrenaline and a drunk, clumsy opponent. Ladies, if you ever find yourself in that situation (and most of us do apparently at some point in our lives, it happens so MUCH more often than you would think): scream, yell in their face, punch, kick, whatever you need to do. These predators are actually cowards trying to intimidate us into thinking they have all the power. In some situations, they do, and very bad things happen. But not always. Sometimes we can win. 

It's remarkable how our brains work, how we can store away hurt and fear and anger until we experience some new trauma and then all of a sudden, the past is back. I haven't been able to sleep since this happened, I wake up every few minutes in a sweat, having a panic attack because all of a sudden, in my sleep, I'm back in my past. I won't bore you with all the details, but I've managed to make my way through every significant trauma in my life - in my sleep - all the way back to the time our house caught on fire when I was 4 or 5 years old. I had completely forgotten that even happened. 

The good news is I've been getting through so many of them a night, I should be out of bad memories by the end of the weekend. 

I've always preferred daydreams to night dreams. In my head, in the light of day, there's always hope and possibility. At night, not so much. My subconscious takes over when I sleep and I can't control it. 

Sometimes, our daydreams turn into nightmares. The day I got married was one of the happiest days of my life. The day I got divorced was a waking nightmare. The day I was baptized as one of Jehovah's Witnesses was full of promise (although I was a brainwashed 12 year old), the day I was disfellowshipped and shunned was terrible. I almost didn't survive those experiences. 

I think though, that I got through them the same way I got through my most recent challenge: sheer will, determination and  refusing to give up. No matter who or what is our opponent if we don't give up we have a fighting chance. At least 50/50 right? I'm going to be really Canadian for a minute and quote Wayne Gretzky: "You miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take". 

So when you're faced with something and you know in your gut what the right thing to do is, take that shot. And hopefully, eventually our subconscious catches up with us and stops being so afraid anytime we go to sleep. 

Sullivan out. 

Love Lost

Yup I have a new song. Here ya go. Look at me, not throwing up, back on the laptop. I guess the medication I was on was just the wrong one. I'm feeling better already. It'll probably take a couple of days to recover but that's okay. What I really needed was just some hope that it would improve. The new one says that I should avoid sunlight so 
it's possible that I've become a vampire. I would like that, because being raised JW I believed I would stay young forever and now, we've got that covered. 

Sidepoint: I can't believe I ever believed that. 

I have two stories for you today. 

#1: Blood tests are bad. My doctor ordered them so I went the day before yesterday. I'm afraid of blood and needles and that's the whole reason I didn't become a nurse. I psyched myself up though and went. The first vial, no problem. But there were 8 of them. The second one broke. The blood spurts out, the needle is still in my arm, I freak out. I screamed, I started crying. They were trying to calm me down and I was like, No we're done for today. I'm here because I have anxiety issues. This is enough for one day, get that needle out of my arm. I went back yesterday and explained to the nurse that I needed to get these done, but I was having a panic attack and I couldn't handle any exploding vials of blood. She was great and talked me through it. Now I'm afraid people on the street might mistake me for a heroin addict because of how my arms look, but other than that I'm okay. :)

#2: Don't give up. It's been five years for me trying to figure out how to get back to my family. I'd given up on the thought that my mother and sister were ever going to be feasible relationships. I've changed so much and not in a way they like. 

But my mother found out I've been unwell and Facetimed me yesterday. She said I hurt her with the Canadian Living article. I said they hurt me when I was suicidal and going through a divorce and I was completely alone. We agreed to move forward. I don't hold grudges, I think that's bad karma for us. 

Then she showed me this. She bought me a Blackbird. It made me feel like she's finally accepted me for who I am.  Which is not all together, which is not a JW. Which is an imperfect person trying to make the best of things. I am a Blackbird. But I kinda like it. :)

Sullivan out. 

Murmurations by Margaux

Murmuration. Have you heard that word before? It means a flock of birds that fly in formation and create amazing shapes in the sky. If you have a couple of minutes, click the picture below and watch the video. It's amazing. 

I have to say that besides a couple of old, lifelong friends who have made the same choice I have to leave the Jehovah's Witnesses, I've stayed out of the ex-JW community for the most part. 

Sure, when I was first "out" I checked out some of the websites. I was afraid though of getting pulled into negativity and I really just wanted to heal and move on. I believe some of those sites are very helpful to those who are looking for an outlet to express their pain, their disappointments, their sadness. I chose to express my feelings through this blog instead. Maybe the idea of speaking to anonymous readers was easier for me, maybe I wasn't ready to let anyone in again just yet. 

The experience I've been through over the past month though of being so publicly "out there" with my story has been both healing and empowering. The outpouring of support I've received from perfect strangers within the community that decided to leave the only community we've ever known, is almost overwhelming. 

Of course, you always get the haters. One woman commented online that she didn't feel like it was a story of growth and development so much as a "one sided sob story meant to incite hate". If she ever read this blog, she would see that as much as I am committed to exposing the truth about the Witnesses, hopefully to help others not go down the same road I did in life and end up regretting years and years dedicated to a cause they no longer believe in and that I truly feel ruins many people's lives and happiness, I do not hate. I say over and over and over I love most of those people and wish them well. It's the organization that controls them that I am not happy with. 

Unless you've been through it, grown up indoctrinated by a cult that controls your every action, you just don't get it. When I read the comments and messages from readers of that article, I can tell right away who has been raised JW and who has no idea what we've gone through. 

Then, of course, there's the "affair". I understand y'all hating on me for that. All I can say is that unless we've been in someone else's situation, you don't know what happens behind closed doors. I'm not proud of that. It's easy to say I should have just left before that happened but there is NO WAY to get out of the JWs or a JW marriage. It's like Hotel California. You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave. I was depressed, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, obviously my thought process was skewed. Will I always regret it? Yes. But I can't change it. It is what it is. 

At the end of the day, whatever I've done wrong, whatever mistakes I've made, I was obviously terribly unhappy. Happy people don't throw an entire life: their marriage, every friend they ever had, their family away for no reason. 

And now? I am happy and I know I'm not alone. Being part of this community of ex-JWs I can see that we all experience similar things in different ways: post traumatic stress, depression, anxiety, bad dreams. A lot of my closest friends are gay and their coming out has often meant the same kind of challenges and losses. 

If you're around my age, our grandparents fought in the last huge war. They experienced trauma and loss so we could live in a world where we have freedom. Freedom of religion, of thought, of expression, of speech. 

Whatever we're currently dealing with, don't forget - that freedom is ours to embrace. Let's fly together and in formation like the birds and create something beautiful together. 

Sullivan out. 

Oh. My. God.

I woke up this morning and called my bestie and she was having a terrible time of it trying to parallel park. Which begs the question, why would one be parallel parking so early on a Sunday morning? She was going to church.

Now, neither of us have had a stellar week so I got up and decided I was going to church too. Why not? I have a love/hate relationship with (maybe you are, maybe you aren't) "God" so out of defiance I put on my new sweater with a bulldog on the front, skipped my shower and headed off to St. Mike's.

This was clearly a risky choice. I haven't been able to be in a Catholic church without having a panic attack and I am out of Ativan.

Thanks to the "not stellar" week I mentioned, I had the craziest panic attack yesterday - despite getting a massage and going to yoga - and I woke up this morning with my chest still aching. Yes, I know, I am killing myself with this stress issue. 

I would probably describe myself as agnostic, but I'm still a bit of a religious mutt. I went to Catholic church a bit as a kid with my dad. I was raised Jehovah's Witness. I've done research into everything from Atheism to Buddhism. I have a Christmas tree in the living room, an idol of Ganesh on the bookcase and Fred, my Buddha on the table near the window. I believe in Fred, Ganesh and the Universe, but God? I'm not so sure.

But maybe I do. I had a hard time following the sequence of Catholic mass (yoga is easier), up, down, kneel, sing, up, the priest says something and everyone says something back and I have no idea what they are talking about. But I did say the Lords Prayer along with all of them and when we knelt and it was silent, I finally, after all these years, talked to God. It was hardly reverent or poetic, I just said: "Fuck you." Then I said it again and again and again until I thought that if he's out there, he might have heard me.

Even before I lost my faith I used to ask God what he was doing. What more did I need to learn? Hadn't I suffered enough? I know I only have first world problems to deal with and I'm grateful for that: family, relationships, money, work. For better or worse, I suffer though through the suffering of other people and I've seen enough of that. The JWs used to say that everything we believed in was necessary because without it, what was the purpose of life? My uncle passed away awhile ago and it made me revisit the question. A friend I've had for almost 20 years is dying now at 46, the same age he was, and I have to admit, I don't know what the purpose of life is. I don't believe in an afterlife where we are rewarded or punished, I don't have any kids who would have given me some purpose, even though I really wanted them.

The re-emergence of some family issues lately and talking to my sister has brought up all these memories. I've been flipping through old photo albums and I have to stop myself from pulling out pictures from the past and putting them back into frames.

I have to say though that I thoroughly enjoyed being back in "God's house". Unlike the Kingdom Halls I grew up in, churches are great what with all the stained glass, the incense, the boy's choir that sings beautifully. They read some scriptures from the Bible, a book I've read straight through so many times I almost know it by heart in two languages.

My friends were shocked this morning to hear of my plans for the day. Which church? They wanted to know. That was a no-brainer. Catholics believe Jesus is God and he seems like he was a really nice guy. Half of the Bible sucks, it's sexist and racist and judgmental. But the other half is one of the most beautiful works of literature ever produced. If they just keep focusing on that, I'll go back to church anytime.