Hatred of a Chapel

[document]

My father hated me. There was deep resentment and I was singled out among my siblings and abused. I didn't realize this until about 10 years ago when during a large family vacation with all four children present, my siblings all admitted that they were not once hit by my father, but I was beaten quite severely. They noticed from an early age that I was singled out constantly, hit, screamed at, sworn at, and ridiculed constantly throughout my entire childhood. Out of all my siblings, I reached out the most to him for love, and was constantly batted down. This continued well into my twenties, all I wanted was love, and all I received was hate.

My father had a really complicated relationship with the church. He hated the church, but he loved the church and fully believed. He was mostly inactive and would go through bouts of super-activity. He would go from complete Jack-Mormon to a "I'm going to wear a suit while I watch general conference in my living room and judge those who don't"-Mormon. He was charismatic and a local celebrity, so during his active periods, he would quickly be called into positions of leadership (high priest group leader, elder's quorum president, young men's president), and then would quickly (usually in 6 months) fall into inactivity.

Everything that I ever did in life was never good enough, and it was never to make me a better person. For some reason, the negativity was just to beat me down. For example, I was physically beaten when I got a B- in a single class in a single quarter in high school. I was told constantly that I was borderline mentally handicapped. I graduated high school with a GPA of 3.96, my SAT was 1490, my ACT was 31, and my IQ was 144 (my brother scored higher in all things, 3.99, 1560, 33, and 169 so that was used against me by my father). I didn't even apply for college because I was convinced (because my father told me so) that I couldn't get into college, I was too far below the bar. I didn't even apply for a community college, because I assumed I was too stupid. A few years later, when I realized that I wasn't as dumb as I was taught, I applied for community college. When I informed my parents that I got in, my dad pulled me aside and told me I was lucky, and that I'm probably meeting some quota.

I pushed myself further in everything in life to gain my father's approval, and it never came. Only criticism, hate, and physical beatings. When I did succeed and he couldn't deny it, he would focus his hate upon something else, usually my weight. In retrospect, I was about 10 pounds overweight and he made me feel like a 500 pound man in a motorized scooter. I was a loser, idiot, ugly, fat, jerk of a human.

The church was constantly used against me as a weapon. If I misbehaved as all children do, scripture was read and outer-darkness was talked about. I was compared to Cain and Judas Iscariot often. Lectures included stories of Joseph Smith and how perfect he was. My dad would beat me and then read me the scripture D&C 121:43, "Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy" and then hug me awkwardly as a show that he loved me and that is why he beat me. By the time I graduated high school, I occasionally masturbated and that was it. I never touched alcohol, I had never kissed a girl, I read my scriptures, I was a straight "A" student, I didn't party, I didn't even go out with friends, and I was the worst Mormon in the world and the worst human being the world have ever seen.

I loved my father, and I wanted so much to be loved by him.

The only time my father ever showed affection towards me was at church. When he was active, he would get up during testimony meeting and talk about how much he loves his family. No matter his activity level, he would attend in full suit and tie, every single general priesthood session and drag his boys along. During that meeting, he would snuggle me and kiss the top of my head. It was so fake and I hated going to that meeting. The moment we got into the car his normal self would come out. I hated going to general priesthood session, because it was humiliating. He showed love only so others could see him, but if only they could see how he really felt and acted.

Shortly after high school I both left home for an apartment and the church. I did eventually come back to the church through friendships in college and an amazing bishop who had the audacity to tell me I wasn't that bad of a person, in fact I was pretty awesome! My self-esteem soared through that period of time. I was in a neighboring ward, and I didn't interact with my father at all during that period of time. He knew I was becoming active again, but I didn't talk to him about the church. Shortly after regaining activity, I went to general conference at the church (I didn't have cable TV). The moment I walked into the stake center chapel and the lights were dim and the projector was on, I felt physically ill. I had to leave, I went home and threw up. I assumed I was sick.

I went on my mission a few months later, came home and went to the YSA branch in a neighboring town. I got married, moved to another city, and went to priesthood session with no issues. I eventually moved back into my hometown about 10 years ago. When priesthood session came around I walked into the chapel with the lowered lights and projector and immediately became sick. I went home and started vomiting. I still didn't make the connection. Six months later, it happened again. I made the connection and started traveling to the neighbor city to watch general priesthood (and would hook up with friends in that city to go with). The thought of general priesthood in that stake center still brings chills to me and I feel a bit ill. Just the thought of it.

There were two people in my life who taught me to hate myself: the church and my father. The mission was my father on steroids: missionaries are pretty awesome when it comes to church standards, they are celibate people studying the scriptures like mad and putting in 12 - 16 hours of work for the church daily, and yet are told they are horrible humans constantly. When the world is looking, missionaries are talked of by the church as an army of God and amazing people, but in mission conferences, in rules, and in the MTC, you are constantly told about disobedience and how you aren't successful because you aren't fully obedient. I attempted suicide on the mission, and I honestly wonder how much of it had to do with my father.

I grew in a church that taught me to hate myself. I was never good enough. When the world was looking, the church would hold me up and praise, then continue to brow beat me with never-good-enough talk.

I grew up with a father that taught me to hate myself. I was never good enough. When the church was looking, my father would hug, snuggle, and kiss me, then beat me or cuss me out hours later.

\When I drive by the chapel I grew up in, I often flip off the church and if my children are in the car, I say, "F*ck you, dad, f*ck you, Elohim". I mean it. I don't feel that way when I drive by other Mormon chapels, I don't flip them off, I don't say "F*ck you, Elohim". It is just in this single location in this single chapel. I go out of my way to avoid that chapel, but when I do have to drive by it, it comes out. Usually, driving by that location makes me feel awful that day.

I can't let that feeling go. The destruction Mormonism brought into my life, and the destruction my father brought into my life. No matter how many years pass, that location brings it out in me.

Has anyone else experienced things like that? If so, how did you get rid of that feeling?

[Mormorrisey]

That was so difficult to read. I'm so sorry you went through all of that growing up, and it seems you are still dealing with the fallout. Nothing but good vibes and internet hugs for you today. I hope it was therapeutic to write this.

I didn't go through anything as difficult as you have, but I do have a narcissistic parent (mother) that also suffered from religious mania. It took me several years to put a name to this behaviour, but I still suffer from its effects as a grown adult, so that I know all too well. While I was hit as a child, I'm not sure it's to the level of abuse you suffered, but all the emotional manipulation, expressions of disappointment and emotional neglect are all too similar. In fact, I think my upbringing represents my half of the marital difficulties - it's very difficult for me to feel loved. Sister M is not only TBM, but can be very emotionally distant at times, which is a dangerous combination. I have to constantly remember that this is part of my wife's personality, and I need to separate her behaviour from my mom's. It's so difficult to do that, and it's a direct result of my upbringing. I posted about this on the old board, a really nasty letter my mom wrote me, and I'm not sure I want to do it again. PM me if you want the details, it might help.

Luckily (and it sounds like you share this to some degree) I have a sibling I can talk to about this. We compare notes, recognize how this behaviour has shaped us as adults, and I think by examining it in great detail, we're moving past it. The key is having boundaries with that parent, (we're on a time out right now as we speak, for some MORE nasty emails she wrote me) and to an even larger extent, especially for me, to have boundaries with the church that enabled this behaviour. It's like any grieving process, it just takes time. A lot of time. And absolutely zero guilt for feeling this way. That's been a big help. Good luck on your journey.

[Vlad the Emailer]

Wow, document. I'm so very sorry about all of that. What a horrible way to grow up!

The psychological connection to that building is very interesting. I've heard of that type of thing before, how places/items connected to bad experiences not only remind people of the experiences, but make them physically ill.

I can't get over your dad and his selective abuse. How someone can act that way toward their own offspring is incomprehensible. I have a teenage daughter that I adore(d), but is going through such a "screw you old people, I'll do what I want" phase that I would actually like it if she left our house. I have to reel that back in and realize that some level of teenage rebellion is normal and not to hate her for the disrespect and rudeness. But nothing she has experienced is even a whisper of what you did, and from a young age! Again, so sorry!

I've never experienced anything like the chapel hatred and have no idea how you would get over it. There's often talk on these boards about counseling for one thing or another. Do your father issues need to be addressed in that way? Perhaps the negative associations like that building would be resolved if any unresolved father issues were successfully addressed.

[Zack Tacorin Dos]

Dammit Doc,

Words fail, but I'll try anyway.

I'm sorry you've gone through and are still going through all of this. I'm one of the lucky ones in that Church for me was mostly positive, until I discovered the man behind the curtain. Yeah, I felt betrayed by the Church, but before that, as a believing, middle-classed, white, hetero-normative, cis-gen guy, with relatively mild vices, I enjoyed Church and was blind to how it could be oppressive and harmful to so many. I'm repenting of that blindness now.

But even with as easy as I had it with the Church, the betrayal I eventually felt discovering the dishonesty left me angry. The anger wasn't associated with one chapel. For a while I'd flip off any LDS building I passed and even yell a big "F___ YOU!" once in a while if no one else was in the car. But like I said, I had it easy, so the angry reactions just slowly went away over time.

I can only imagine what you've experienced emotionally and spiritually with the Church and your dad compounding the abuse of one another. I have no advice. Seems like you need and deserve more than my unprofessional, virtual counseling. I'm thinking about you. If you think it would help to have this atheist pray for you, let me know, and I'll do that too.

Thank you for sharing,
Zack

[Korihor]

Wow, I have no words to express my condolences. I frankly can't relate, however I am deeply saddened by this story. I can only imagine what that must have been like and continues to torment.

Personally, I think it A-OK that you respond how you do when driving by that chapel and letting your children know it. We can't shelter them from everything and we need to let our children know it's OK to have a wide variety of emotions, thoughts, opinions and experiences.

God bless you in raising your children by learning from the mistakes of your father(s). Bro Hugs

[document]

Thanks, all. I love my NOM friends. This is one of the few places that I feel comfortable enough to talk about my past, my present, or my future without fear of judgment.

[FiveFingerMnemonic]

Sounds like a pretty normal reaction to me. Sounds like a form of PTSD to me. Very sad that you had to endure that type of relationship, and I applaud you in your continued recovery.

[MoPag]

((Hugs))

You dad sounds kind of like my ex. Even the church activity is similar. I don't think my ex has/had a testimony, but I think he just liked the power church gave him. I can relate to the abuse too. It's like living in a nightmare. And the shame and mental control. The church wanted me to stay in this. My Bishop would tell me that I was responsible for the keeping the spirit in my home and that if my husband could feel the spirit, he would be nicer.

For me though, this was a chunk of my adulthood, not my entire childhood. I don't really associate any one place with negative feelings so I can't help there, but here are some things that are helping me:

-It helped me to realize that I wasn't alone; that many other people had gone through what I went through.
-I try to focus on that fact that the abuse isn't my life anymore. I still deal with the after effects, but I have a really good life now compared to what it was.
-Yoga has done wonders for me. I hold myself higher.
-Meditation really helps too. It helps me mentally process and deal with things that have happened to me.
-Drugs. Zoloft regulates the serotonin in my brain and I can function like a human being.

Disclaimer-I still have really bad days. I'm still kind of a wreck, but I'm better than I was. And I'm getting better as time goes on.

Next time you say "f*ck you," do it with a smile on your face. You are so much stronger than all of that bullsh*t

((Hugs)) again. I'll keep you in my prayers to Goddess.

[wtfluff]

Sorry Doc. That's all very heart-breaking.

Though I can't relate to the physical abuse, I definitely relate to the "not good enough" feelings. For me I think it's basically that I got conditional love from my parents. As long as I was "mormon-ing" good enough, I got lots of praise. Otherwise not so much. And the underlying "not good enough" theme of the church? Maybe introverts feel that more than others, maybe it's just an underlying part of the church. I don't know. But I do know that the "not good enough" thought was always there in the back of my mind relating to the church.

I'll agree with FIveFingerDeathPunchMnemonic and say that what you're dealing with sounds a lot like PTSD.


Since I live in the MorCor, I reserve my F*k You's and Middle Fingers for temples. My Middle Finger and F-You muscles still get plenty of exercise...

[ulmite]

Please accept a virtual hug from where I'm sitting, no advice from me though because I wouldn't know what I was talking about.

[Give It Time]

I'm not perfect, by any means. You know that. The peace comes and goes. I'm sure you can relate. First of all, in getting past it's coming up with some version of life being too short or ain't got time for the drama.

Then there's mindfulness. I'm not going to rattle off the trite statement. I'm going to give you an actual exercise you can easily adapt.

It's easy to tell beginning actors are just spouting lines. One exercise that is done to teach actors to truly engage in a scene is to tell them to look at their scene partner. "But I am looking" is usually the protest. Then the teaching begins. "Look at your scene partner's hair. How many variations of color are in their hair? Look at your partners eyes. Are the irises all one color or are there flecks of other colors. As the actor follows the instructions, you can see their breathing change and they really start to pay attention to the other person.

That's the exercise. I don't even have to bet. I know I'd win. You've done that with music. Do it again with a new piece of music. Or do the exercise with an instrument. Use all the senses: how does the light hit it? How does temperature affect the sound? You get the idea.

Oh yes. Change your route so you don't drive past that chapel. In Thelma And Louise when they were on the lam and needed to get to Mexico in a hurry. They avoided Texas, because one of them had been raped there. Drive around Texas. Take the scenic route. Just don't drive off the edge of the Grand Canyon.

[vankimber]

Oh boy, can I relate! My mother actually hit me more than my father did, but both of them went to great lengths to make sure I knew how awful I was. I joined the church as a teenager, and was enjoying it until they and my younger sister joined 2 years later. FHE was used to berate me and tell me I was working for Satan. The next year they all went to the temple and were sealed as a family without me!

I now live on the other side of the continent, in a different country, and have been diagnosed with PTSD. I wish I had some great wisdom to pass along to you. I am not far from being a senior citizen, but I have been an emotional orphan my whole life. I think being far from them physically helps me a lot emotionally. Still, the memories of being singled out, of being treated with such blatant unfairness, of being completely unappreciated when anyone in their right mind should have been thrilled to have such a great kid--well, it all takes its toll, doesn't it? I have come to the realization that I hope I never understand it, because the only way for that to happen would be for me to be as nuts as they are.

[Give It Time]

Oh boy, can I relate! My mother actually hit me more than my father did, but both of them went to great lengths to make sure I knew how awful I was. I joined the church as a teenager, and was enjoying it until they and my younger sister joined 2 years later. FHE was used to berate me and tell me I was working for Satan. The next year they all went to the temple and were sealed as a family without me!

I now live on the other side of the continent, in a different country, and have been diagnosed with PTSD. I wish I had some great wisdom to pass along to you. I am not far from being a senior citizen, but I have been an emotional orphan my whole life. I think being far from them physically helps me a lot emotionally. Still, the memories of being singled out, of being treated with such blatant unfairness, of being completely unappreciated when anyone in their right mind should have been thrilled to have such a great kid--well, it all takes its toll, doesn't it? I have come to the realization that I hope I never understand it, because the only way for that to happen would be for me to be as nuts as they are.

Thank you for pointing this out. I'm not sure if the church and its members are aware that the church's programs are used by abusers, family home evening being an especially loved tool. So, advice that bishops give and the advice in the manual is to make sure the abuse is continuing. Perhaps they know and don't care. Perhaps they're doing it, themselves​.

Doc, one thing I asked myself when I was reading your post is why are you still living near where you grew up? I'm guessing your wife is still there and you're doing it for your children, but is moving one town over possible? Also I know that changing your route can be an inconvenience, but it'll literally give you a new perspective. After awhile, v you'll realize it was a long time ago and you no longer need to let it own you and you can go back to the easier route.

Another thing, I'm sure there will be times it's simply unavoidable. That's where the mindfulness comes in. Perhaps make sure you have and music playing and make sure you're immersing yourself in it as safely we you can while on that road.

Finally, I know there are therapy techniques for allowing yourself to be in places and situations where triggering is possible. Frankly, it's unreasonable to avoid them your entire life. This is where religion, properly applied, can help. I would suggest a visit with a therapist to get clarity on your reactions and some techniques. Your pastor may actually know she techniques, but the grounding in knowledge and understanding won't be anywhere near as thorough.

[alas]

Sounds like a pretty normal reaction to me. Sounds like a form of PTSD to me. Very sad that you had to endure that type of relationship, and I applaud you in your continued recovery.

Yes, this sounds like PTSD.

I am pretty much over my PTSD, but then I am a few years older than you, as in probably old enough to be your mother and it has taken all those years to recover from my abusive childhood.

So, first thought, do you WANT to get past this one chapel triggering your issues. I mean, this is one trigger you can just decide to avoid. But since you seem to still be driving past it, maybe it is hard to totally avoid. So, there are several techniques that are used to desensitize a trigger. One is avoiding triggers, one is desensitizing the triggers, some are too complicated to do by yourself. Avoiding is obvious how to do it, and since you are here asking, I don't think that is working. Desensitizing is to expose yourself to the trigger in a safe environment. If you have had a basic psychology class, think behavioral psychology and phobias and how the idea is to expose yourself to small safe dosages of what you are phobic of.

So, the simplest desensitization that would work for a building like this is to find a time when the building is empty (or practically so, maybe evening when bishopric is doing interviews) but you can still get in. Go in, and just walk around the building, telling yourself that it is just a building and is really just a bunch of bricks and sheetrock. Without your father there, the building cannot hurt you. Repeat the idea that the building cannot hurt you. It is just a building, like any other. The hurt came from the people who were in the building back then, and he is not here now. Stay until you feel calmer, maybe not perfectly calm, but when it gets better. You may have to do this more than once. Just keep telling yourself that it is a building, and it was your father who was scary.

I have written and deleted about six times now trying to get out of intellectual social worker mode and say something from my own experience of physical and emotional abuse that might help you. But I keep hitting the problem of not knowing what from my experience would help, and not wanting to make this about me. Yeah, I could tell you about having a tooth knocked out, but what about that could help you?

What helped was to remind myself that as an adult, I won't ever let that kind of abuse happen again, and to start seeing my parents for the pathetic human beings they were. Oh, and them being dead helped too

You take over as the parent you wish you had, and you tell yourself that you are worth loving, cause you really really are. You point out to yourself when you do something well, and you point out to yourself how brilliant you really are. You do for yourself the same things you try to do for your own children.

I noticed something in this thread. There are a lot of us here who were treated like crap by our parents, and then the "never good enough" from the church complicated and compounded that.

[document]

Thanks again for your kind and helpful responses.

I'm actually in a really good place right now. The stake center in question is just around the corner from me (about three blocks) but there never really is much reason for me to pass it. When I moved back to my home town, my ward went to that building, but because of its layout, I was able to park and enter on the north side of the church rather than the south side. If I parked and entered on the south side, I had panic attacks. Thankfully and oddly, the wards that meet in that building generally park on other sides, no matter the time of the day. The bishop's office for my father's ward was on the south side, and my bishop's office for my ward was on the north side. I was able to for years avoid those feelings, so long as I entered on the north side and didn't go through the south doors.

My mother is a divorced, single woman and has a difficult time in the LDS tradition during family activities. I go to two ward activities with her a year, and the Christmas party at the church is in the gym. I park on the north side on the street, enter in through the north most door, and walk the ten feet to the gym. It feels like an entirely different church, requiring me to walk by the young women's room only. I can avoid any panic or feelings of terror. But, when I do go to my mother's ward party at Christmas, I do flip off the church and say my statement under my breath before I go in. On the occasions that I attend church with my mother, we sit on the opposite side of the chapel and enter in on the other side. So long as the lights are not dimmed and the projector is not out, there is no panic or sickness, but there is significant hatred for that darn building.

Thankfully, it is very easy to avoid. It is very, very, very easy to avoid. I passed it recently entirely out of error, because my son and I played a game where we went for a walk in the neighborhood and flipped a coin at every corner. Heads we go straight, tails we turn. We flip again, heads we turn left, tails we turn right. We ended up walking by the south side of the church.

It is on the forefront of my mind also because I'm the dean of the local AGO chapter. Our planning person set up an organ crawl, where a bunch of organists go from church to church to church and try out their pipe organs. Our first place is the Lutheran church, then the LDS church (the one that I loathe), and then finally the Episcopal church (mine). The person who is opening up the church for us to play the organ and introduce the gang to it will be opening the south doors, requiring us to walk in through the south doors. I have to be there, I'm in charge of the group, and it would be highly rude for me to only show up for the Episcopal and Lutheran church organs, skipping out one in the middle. Plus, I know that darn organ better than anyone, so the questions will come to me anyway.

My mother has severe PTSD, she was a survivor of the Birmingham pub bombings in the 1970s. She was in a movie theater when she was 14 years old when the bomb went off destroying the wall and throwing bricks through the room. People panicked and stampeded killing several people. She hid under her chair and then crawled out, over several dead bodies. Upon leaving the theater, the first thing she saw was a dead man with a bar stool leg literally through his head. It was only later she realized she climbed over the dead to get out. As a result, she copes through knowing where emergency exits are wherever she goes. If she goes into a new store, before she gets a cart, she will read the posted emergency exit plan, and keep as close as possible to the exits. Growing up, we ALWAYS sat in the pew right next to the exit. She actually has talked to the stake presidency, and the pew next to the exit is reserved for her.

There are ways to cope, for me it is generally avoiding the situation, but like my mother, I can't avoid it forever. Things come up, especially when much of your family is Mormon and there is a decent pipe organ in that building (they hold concerts on occasion, and as we co-sponsor them, I have to attend). But my coping mechanism is north-entrance and flipping off the building and cursing the Mormon god.

I guess my story here was a reflection of the worry I feel of entering the south door this Sunday evening.

[Give It Time]

Thanks again for your kind and helpful responses.

I'm actually in a really good place right now. The stake center in question is just around the corner from me (about three blocks) but there never really is much reason for me to pass it. When I moved back to my home town, my ward went to that building, but because of its layout, I was able to park and enter on the north side of the church rather than the south side. If I parked and entered on the south side, I had panic attacks. Thankfully and oddly, the wards that meet in that building generally park on other sides, no matter the time of the day. The bishop's office for my father's ward was on the south side, and my bishop's office for my ward was on the north side. I was able to for years avoid those feelings, so long as I entered on the north side and didn't go through the south doors.

My mother is a divorced, single woman and has a difficult time in the LDS tradition during family activities. I go to two ward activities with her a year, and the Christmas party at the church is in the gym. I park on the north side on the street, enter in through the north most door, and walk the ten feet to the gym. It feels like an entirely different church, requiring me to walk by the young women's room only. I can avoid any panic or feelings of terror. But, when I do go to my mother's ward party at Christmas, I do flip off the church and say my statement under my breath before I go in. On the occasions that I attend church with my mother, we sit on the opposite side of the chapel and enter in on the other side. So long as the lights are not dimmed and the projector is not out, there is no panic or sickness, but there is significant hatred for that darn building.

Thankfully, it is very easy to avoid. It is very, very, very easy to avoid. I passed it recently entirely out of error, because my son and I played a game where we went for a walk in the neighborhood and flipped a coin at every corner. Heads we go straight, tails we turn. We flip again, heads we turn left, tails we turn right. We ended up walking by the south side of the church.

It is on the forefront of my mind also because I'm the dean of the local AGO chapter. Our planning person set up an organ crawl, where a bunch of organists go from church to church to church and try out their pipe organs. Our first place is the Lutheran church, then the LDS church (the one that I loathe), and then finally the Episcopal church (mine). The person who is opening up the church for us to play the organ and introduce the gang to it will be opening the south doors, requiring us to walk in through the south doors. I have to be there, I'm in charge of the group, and it would be highly rude for me to only show up for the Episcopal and Lutheran church organs, skipping out one in the middle. Plus, I know that darn organ better than anyone, so the questions will come to me anyway.

My mother has severe PTSD, she was a survivor of the Birmingham pub bombings in the 1970s. She was in a movie theater when she was 14 years old when the bomb went off destroying the wall and throwing bricks through the room. People panicked and stampeded killing several people. She hid under her chair and then crawled out, over several dead bodies. Upon leaving the theater, the first thing she saw was a dead man with a bar stool leg literally through his head. It was only later she realized she climbed over the dead to get out. As a result, she copes through knowing where emergency exits are wherever she goes. If she goes into a new store, before she gets a cart, she will read the posted emergency exit plan, and keep as close as possible to the exits. Growing up, we ALWAYS sat in the pew right next to the exit. She actually has talked to the stake presidency, and the pew next to the exit is reserved for her.

There are ways to cope, for me it is generally avoiding the situation, but like my mother, I can't avoid it forever. Things come up, especially when much of your family is Mormon and there is a decent pipe organ in that building (they hold concerts on occasion, and as we co-sponsor them, I have to attend). But my coping mechanism is north-entrance and flipping off the building and cursing the Mormon god.

I guess my story here was a reflection of the worry I feel of entering the south door this Sunday evening.

Thank you for the reminder. I remember your talking about going to ward functions. I assumed it wasn't the same ward as your childhood ward. I don't know why. I just never connected the two. Apologies for that. I'm impressed this building has a pipe organ. Those are rare in our church. I read Alas's advice and it was excellent, as usual. I've heard of exposing yourself to a situation and reminding yourself that these things are inanimate and can't hurt you. I just don't know enough of the procedure. I think, given the fact that there are times when you must be in the building, this is the way to go.

If you could think about three genuinely happy memories with that building, with that chapel, with the church and just pull those out of your memory pocket and focus on those when the breathing gets tight on those days when you absolutely must be there, that could help. If there's something you could be carrying in your hands that makes​ a proper flipping off impossible, that may help. I don't think telling the Mormon God to eff off is necessarily a bad practice. Helen Mirren highly recommends the use of the term. What I like about that term is it may be kind of rude and offensive, but at it's core, it's about self-esteem, boundaries and not letting the wool be pulled over your eyes. I might think it, but not always say it.

[Silver Girl]

How I wish we all lived close enough to share hugs and tears together. I am so sorry for the pain you experienced - you deserved to be treated with love and support (genuine love, not "love" put on for a performance).

You asked if others have experienced similar things - to a degree, I have experienced them, and I asked a counselor about some of the things. As with you, the stake center chapel where I live makes me ill - I didn't grow up in the church, but it is the building where I joined as an adult, and the guy I married (who exploited me financially and in other ways) "courted" me there. It was the first church building I entered. When various things fell apart (the marriage was a farce he created to legitimize himself), I got panic attacks and got ill when I entered that building. It got worse when the lies in the church surfaced and I left the church soon afterward. So I looked into that to find out why.

Anyway - I asked a counselor why the building was an issue (even when the person who had harmed me wasn't there). One factor was the way the building smelled - many environments have a specific odor and that building definitely had one - it had a faint smell of mustiness, whatever, unique to the building. The counselor said the olfactory area is next to the memory area of our brains, and that it made perfect sense for smells to trigger memories (very bad ones, in this case, but nothing as bad as what you went through).

All the other elements were PTSD triggers, too - worship services or F&T (or, in your case, the PH sessions) were almost Pavlovian - the patterns of the services, which we experience time after time, are triggers. We sit in the same places, facing the same directions in many cases. The carpeting and upholstery is the same its been forever (how I hate those couches - I see them so often in photos people post on FB - the same tired, floral pattern!I).

A cult works in part through repeated conditioning. For some people (those who "love" the community), much of the conditioning has been positive. For others, there are negatives woven into things, such as a hateful bishop, or rude people in various callings. For you, however, the repetition was particularly harmful - my guess is that even being close enough for your father to touch you created tension. Usually, his touch was violent and non-loving, but at church, you were a prop for him to look like a great dad and PH holder - so that left you to be victimized by being hugged and patted on the head by someone who otherwise terrorized you. I cannot imagine the conflict and fear that would instill in a kid.

You had mixed conditioning - primarily negative reinforcement mixed with positive reinforcement - that is one of the most toxic patterns there is. I would imagine that for many years you lived in hope that the fake behavior at church was finally going to be the norm - that your dad would finally show love to you. But each time, that was yanked from under you. It hurts me to think of that - how horrible.

Many families have a scapegoat child - often it is the eldest, but it can be any of the kids. That child gets the brunt of the anger. Sometimes, when that child leaves home, the anger is transferred to the next kid, but the one who lived at home the longest under that stress is the one most harmed. I was the scapegoat kid (oldest, and the only girl). Everyone I know saw it, but nobody did anything. So I sort of understand.

I so hope you resigned from the church, or that you will resign - that would be a big step in liberating yourself internally. I also hope you stay away from that building, or any church building, for that matter - they are toxic for you. They are understandably toxic - it is very understandable that those buildings make you ill. Your body goes into a defense mode (and a fight or flight mode) when you enter that chapel.

Sending you hugs from afar - I have read your posts on this site and on the old site (where I used the name "Scared") and I so value all you say. I wish we lived close enough to have a gathering of the NOM family. You are loved here.

Edited to add - I just noticed the post where you mentioned how close the stake center is, and that you avoid a certain door. That was eerie to read! I could walk to the chapel that makes me ill (which is also the stake center). It is very nearby - on a side street off of my neighborhood. And while I attended, I avoided one particular door - the logical one I'd enter in terms of proximity to my home. Now, I also avoid going down that road completely whenever possible. I am in a good place, too, and I know I will fight that demon (there are good reasons to go that direction now and then), but I am still aware of how it makes me feel.

[Newme]

Document,
You deserved to be treated better. I hope you have or will soon realize that when others (even someone influential like your dad) puts you down, it is an outpouring of their problems, it's not about you. Still, it's human to take it as part of your identity, especially if repeatedly taught as an impressionable child.

My mom has BPD, and some of my siblings cannot understand why I maintain boundaries with her. She does treat us differently, depending on what we "make" her feel. If we remind her of good or bad issues she has yet to be self-aware of.

I'm working on healing and correcting self-esteem issues, and I hope you overcome too and become stronger for it.

[Enough]

Document,

Your story is riveting, intense...thank you for your honest sharing. Your story evokes so much compassion; also empathy & feelings of solidarity. It shouldn't be this hard...So painful...living in families, just trying to grow up and make sense of the world. But when we grow up in homes where those who love us the most, hurt us the most-- that's a profound kind of painful. Yes, I know. I understand (at least some of) what you are saying.

Add in a church that teaches us we are nothing, well...sometimes I wonder how any of us create a joyful life beyond the expectations & demands that come. But, I know it's possible, and I'm heartened to know that you are still here, carrying on. Much love to you. <3

[Mormorrisey]

We had that horrible lesson on Joseph and Emma's marriage today, and I played on my phone until it was over. But then we talked about pride and forgiveness, and how it's pride that stops us from "forgiving" people. One young sister opined on what to do though, when we are faced with challenging people that abuse and torment us? I quickly put up my hand and offered the idea that NO ONE should be abused, tormented or exploited, and that there are in fact toxic people that we need to construct boundaries around for our own mental health. As the ward pariah, no one saw fit to disagree, but I know there are people who HATED that answer. I repeated it in HP, when a brother talked about how he needed to forgive someone who ripped him off. I put up my hand, and asked him if he ever had this man as a customer again? When he said absolutely not, I reiterated what I said in SS, that when it's family members doing the abuse, we need to do the same thing, and create boundaries so as not to be abused or taken advantage of. Again, crickets.

But I thought of this thread, and you as well document, for people who understand that the church is NOT a safe place, that forgiveness is NOT always the answer, and that we need to distance ourselves from abusive people in our past. As long as abuse is minimized, the perpetrators allowed to do these things in silence and with tacit consent of church doctrines like this, I will do my best to speak up. Almost worth going to church today. Almost. Well, not really.