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My birth was an oops of alcohol. I was adopted a few weeks into life by Mormon parents, but life was good without questioning, being an obedient saint. I was the best, they said I was just like Christ.
Then I was an adolescent. I masturbated and looked at porn. They found out. They cried and cried, and told me they could merely look at me and tell I didn't have the "spirit". Mom even told me if I didn't change, she'd put me back up for adoption.
Then I was fifteen, aware of this massive collective consciousness. It cradled me in it's arms one night, made me warm and spoke to my spirit. It was everything, and I was part of it. I knew this was the path. I was also beginning to question, as how could the church say homosexuality was a sin when it had been proven by science that it was traceable to genetics?
So I told them. Two page letter, since if I tried to speak it out, I wouldn't get past the second sentence without being interrupted and objected. Spilled my soul onto those pages. Told them what I believed, told them I loved them, and respected their views, that we'd all be together forever somehow.
They read it. I was rebelling, trying to get out of going to church. They even said that I was recoiling from the church because I was so buried in sin that I felt too guilty to be part of church. This couldn't be farther from the truth. This is when I believe my life shattered, and my mental health deteriorated.
I stopped going to church and 6 am bible study. Suddenly they were so cold to me. I used to see my older sister as the rebellious fool who had no respect for her parents. All of a sudden, they thought I was becoming her. And I sympathized for her. They said I was no longer that kid they knew and raised, no longer like Christ. My dad is a decent man, just trying to provide for a family and live the American dream. But my mom is different.
She's cold and fearful. She always has all the doors to the house locked so she doesn't get robbed or killed. We live in rich suburbs. If I boil water on the stove at night, she rushes downstairs, smelling the faint smell of heat and thing her house is burning down. She's paranoid of her own shadow betraying her, of it stabbing her from behind in it's veiled cover. My phone is shit and turns off randomly. One time, she texted me (mid day) asking where I was. She didn't get a response, so she sent another one saying "hello, are you breathing and not laying in a ditch dead somewhere". This isn't to demonstrate her concern for me, this is to demonstrate that she's incredibly fearful, and lets her own fear rule her life and reality.
We went on a cruise once, and my mom told us she had premonitions of us drowning, and that her premonitions have a way of manifesting themselves. She's prescribed drugs in the double digits, a massively doped hypochondriac. The only thing she trusts is medicine. She watches T.V., and this is all she does when she is home. She doesn't really have many friends, or any. She goes on a walk with someone every few months, but other than that, work and church are her social interactions.
I pity her... and I love her. It breaks my heart to see her in this miserable state of life, with the T.V. as her only friend. But at the same time, I hate her. She raised me with her fear and rich snobbery and cold shoulders. I have horrible adrenaline problems, and the slightest social stimulation can send my heart skyrocketing. She raised me for awhile, but now she won't even meet eyes with me. Every time I trip, I have to confront this cold reality of the very roots of my life. I feel like a tree with no roots.
I'm a pianist, and an excellent and inspired one. I've been playing by ear all my life, and I can play Chopin like his spirit guides my hands, and one day I'll be in grand halls, playing not his works but my own, of the true romantic spirit. But it's not easy to do.
No one listens to me play piano. If I'm playing, they come and close the door and turn the volume up all the way on the tv. But they never compliment, never even really say anything about it. Except when others come to visit. Then they tell me to play the fastest, showiest thing I can play. I prefer soft lyricism.
But it was never the poetry of my soul they wanted. They wanted the tamed soul, the Christ-missionary, the disciple who's own will was naught but that of their own.
I had an episode last December. After I broke up with my girlfriend, I literally had no one. My sister was gone off to college. The pains of my family's neglect and borderline-hatred and shame of what I had become were all on my own shoulders alone to bear. It all built up and festered in me. First it was the knife... I'd cut up my skin because all I wanted was to let out all the furious and desperate energy inside.
Eventually I tried to kill myself. I sent an email to my neighborhood friend of what I was doing, and with it a note to give my parents. By some miracle, he checked it while he was at school, and while I was sitting in my closed up car with burning charcoal filling the air, he called me and talked me out of it. I then cleaned up all remnants of what I had almost done, and never spoke of it again. They never knew, and I don't think they will ever know. There's no reason to tell them. It'd just fuel their notion that my leaving the church brought me down, down.
They knew I was depressed, but they didn't know why. My mom told my sister on the phone that she thought I was on crack. I never heard this from her though. They didn't ever try to find out.
Recently my mom and I got into a fight, and she said I'm always living all these lies and hiding all these secrets. She brought up that phase when I was depressed, and said that I hid the reason from her (and I knew from my sister that she thought it was coke). I told her angrily that starting with that desperate letter which I poured my soul into, they didn't accept who I was. They didn't accept my beliefs and feelings of the world, and even denied they existed. Then she proceeded to explain why all those things I said are indeed invalid, that no other church is true but the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
She even told me that she doesn't know what she's going to do when she meets my birth mother in the afterlife. She said she feels infinite pain that she'll have to look my birth mother in the eyes and tell her I feel away from the church.
Fuck her. I'm sure my birth mother would be so proud of my accomplishments in life, and I just know it in my heart. For someone who was raised with such awful deceptions and mindwashings, I nonetheless raised myself above the fucking garbage that is spewed and stamped as the only word of God, and learned to think for myself. I even overcame my terrible anxiety, and stopped letting people walk over me like a rug. I asserted myself, jumped out of my anxious skin and met people, made friends, and took up risk-taking hobbies like freerunning, skateboarding, and many other things that I used to be deathly afraid of. I still have to confront the adrenaline, but I can overcome it.
I've even raised my own vibrations and gained self worth and respect, most apparently through my music. Neglected children usually don't want to express, but that's exactly my art, expression through the piano. It's tough, but I have so much emotion inside from this horrible yet wonderful life that when I manage to let it all out, it's simply beautiful.
I meditate often. I've recently began focusing on chakras, points of energy throughout the body. I feel so whole and spiritually pure when I meditate. But when my mom comes home, I can feel hate, fear, and judgment radiating from her very skin. Standing next to her alone makes me feel so suddenly cold and empty. She only has negative things to say, and I feel like I can bring myself up to such high vibrations, yet she comes home and then I'm shattered, torn apart by her snide remarks, her cold indifference to whether or not I'm on meth or coke (I'm not). She just doesn't give a fuck about parenting me, I'm just an abandoned, went-wrong Mormon.
I've known so much joy in life, but the very root of my being is in my adopted family, and parents. What can I do? I love them and they raised me, but I feel like my mom's very breath is poison to my spirit. Unfortunately, I get the cold feeling that the only way for life to fix itself is to allow time to pass, and eventually my parents will be dead, and I will be the father. I won't feed my children the poison of closed-minded religion. The spirit is intelligent and when the body is overcome, the spirit gravitates towards truth. This is the natural path to spirituality and oneness in the universe, and I will do everything I can to ensure my kids have the freedom to follow their spirits.
Mormonism, along with many other religions claiming a monopoly on truth and spirit, can do good to some, but can also violently shake up someone's life, as in my case. Please, if you have kids, listen to them. Talk to them. Let them follow their hearts, and for God and all of Mormon-Heaven's sake, don't deny them of the inner-speaking of their spirit and the very thing that makes them them.
As far as neglect, giving the cold shoulder to your kids, blaming all your marriage problems on your kids... Don't ever make your kids feel like your own problems are their fault. To feel as though your parents are unhappy because of you is to feel as though your existence is a hindrance.
To tell your child that only one religion, your religion, is true, is to cause them to forever be in pain over the conflict between the validity of their own beliefs and what you as the parent want. It's telling them that what they see with their eyes is a lie, and that believing their eyes is wrong. It is telling them that the person they are on the inside is wrong and misguided.
I'm glad I'm strong, strong enough to see far ahead into my future, my dreams, and reasonable enough to understand that my parents are NOT normal and that it is NOT normal for a child to be neglected, threatened with adoption as a young teenager, and denied any small degree of individuality. I think that anyone who has to deal with this kind of pressure with no one in life to help will do what I did... try to commit suicide. It takes incredible perseverance and trust in a distant and vague future to overcome these suicidal thoughts and pain with no outlet. So if you are a parent, keep these things in mind.
If you're a son or daughter that went through any similar kind of family life and experiences this pain, please hold on to life, and learn to love yourself. You'll look all over the world for someone to love you, and people will indeed show you love... but first and foremost, you must love yourself to survive, to live from day to day. It will break your own heart when you feel your own love and feel what you never learned from your parents. But keep living... keep studying the universe, meditating, and raising your own energy. Make friends and pursue your passions, and eventually you'll be free of the pain your family inflicts upon you, freed by the life you create to replace the one at home which causes you so much pain.
I'm not one to complain about my problems to everyone. But I feel that it's important to share my life story and allow others who possibly deal with the same forces to be able to empathize, to connect, since when you can't connect with your own family, you have problems connecting.
But life is all about connecting, stretching out your energy in a rizomorphic manner just like those sacred mushrooms do, and expanding your love into the universe. Don't let the coldness of your parents extinguish your sense of worth and your innate passion and fire of life.
I also just needed to get all this out, to synthesize my thoughts and record them, to allow my turbulent thoughts some degree of escape. I hope this read was interesting to someone, helped someone see a new perspective, or comforted someone who feels similar pain.
Never let Christianity stop you from being like Christ, never let the God-fearing tell you who God is, and more important than anything, never let your love stop expanding. Never doubt your own soul and it's innate wisdom and ancient connection to the universe. Never for a second forget that you are a child of the Earth, and that the very Earth loves you and cares for you, nourishing you and providing you with vast, expansive plains of beauty challenged only by the universe itself.
Love to you all.
Re: Mormon Upbringing and Parental Abandonment [Re: Anonymous #1] #14244476 - 04/05/11 11:07 PM (10 years, 1 month ago)
Never do yourself in. We need people like you in this world. I want to hear you play the piano. I am proud you are able to resist the brainwashing but your parents love you they just think that you don't love them as the brainwashing they are under makes them believe that. It is not your fault and if they are so deep in it you may have to leave. At least with the mormons there are many ex-mormoms that know how hard it is as you lose everyone if you leave. I know a few and they never can see their family again but some still talk but they are blacklisted from wills and never asked to family events.
Be pround that you are looking for the truth.
Re: Mormon Upbringing and Parental Abandonment [Re: Anonymous #2] #14244551 - 04/05/11 11:19 PM (10 years, 1 month ago)
Thank you. I'm quite proud, and far from that suicidal rut. I know they love me, and that possibly makes it more painful, since all they can do is try to give me their religious medicine. But I'm not sick. I sadly can't share my piano videos with people since I don't want any link between my shroomery account and my real life, but... tell ya what. Someone will come along and revitalize the romantic era. And everyone will think it's Chopin himself. Maybe
But that's me.
Re: Mormon Upbringing and Parental Abandonment [Re: Anonymous #1] #14244562 - 04/05/11 11:20 PM (10 years, 1 month ago)
went through the same thing (with my genetic parents though). I played along with em till I graduated from community college. Fuckers never even took me to get my drivers liscense though that was sort of my own fault from the apathy/depression I had while living with them in my late teens. Live on my own now and paying my way through school at 21. Doing well if I do say so myself.
Anyways, not giving a single fuck has always helped my situation. I may even get my drivers license soon!