I wish I was able to stop being so bloody emotional. No I am not talking the lovely hormones that flow through a woman. Nor am I talking about seeing "Feed the Children" and bursting into tears. I'm talking about anger and frustration. I generally think I keep a good handle on these two emotions. (Handle being like any good Norweigan Midwestern Woman, I "handle" things by stuffing them, and never speaking of them again). And then, go figure, it all comes bursting out in weird ways. I am *up. I think we all know that. It just annoys the hell out of me that my voice gets all shakey and sped up and insistent whenever I get worked up about something. It could even be somethinig I am happy about! As a result often times I am told "settle down"...and I don't feel like I am riled. Tho in some cases I am. And it's those times I get angry at myself for letting my emotions get the better of me when I try to pride myself on being slow and calculated, and reasoning things out. HA!
Tonight was a prime example. My father studying his watchtower reads aloud a paragraph. Explaining his wonder and triumph over what the society has to say.
It started off simple enough. I simply expressed my disagreement. Free from emotion even! And then we were off. My mother quickly came in from the kitchen yelling at me about "how can you say that" and it snowballed from there. Within ten minutes I was bawling my eyes out. About what you may ask? Were we develving into deep emotional terriotory? Were long repressed family demons coming out? Was someone standing on my foot? No! I simply started hollering about how Russel was buried under a pyramid. Normal healthy response to that. Right!
And then it REALLY began. Quickly it was mentioned you couldn't trust outside sources because they were all apostate. To which I forced my mother to get a dictionary and read what the word Apostate means. "Where is the term slander? Where is the term willful lying? It's not there is it?" My voice now squeaking out of control.
I then dropped the big one on my parents. I said, "I am an apostate!" As most of you know, I keep my religious feelings to myself around my parents. It's much safer that way. But again, all that bottling and eventually it overflows and the cork flies out of your mouth and smacks your parents smack in the forehead. To which my mother said "No you're not an apostate, you're not teaching and preaching what you believe" to which I said "Read that definition again!! If you read it, I AM AN APOSTATE! I don't believe in the witness faith anymore, which means, I am an apostate, which means my very existance in this house will poision you!"
Then we quickly jumped into, but the Bible is inspired. To which to their great dismay I said, "I don't think it was. A book written by men, and now being reinterpreted by other men does not fill me with religious fervor. God is dead."
Shocked silence.
My parents quickly brought out the whole "What about the scripture of the earth hanging on nothing" and went on to say how Bible accuracy surpasses any other religious and so-called inspired writings. To which I had to say "When did you read the Koran? Have you ever read any Lao Tzu? How about the Veda?" To which my mother said "I have read about them" HAHAHAHAHA! Then my mom used the time honored "Even Ghandi realized the power of Jesus, and the need for him in people's lives" To which I said, "Ghandi never said that! Ghandi said people should live their lives as Christ taught. Which amazingly enough, a lot of other "prophets" have outlined a smilar game plan of putting others above yourself, loving all, being good to each other. Don't you think it was perhaps Ghandi's goal to talk about the words, and he just used a Christian prophet because that would relate well to a Christian audience?" She didn't really respond to that, my father just jumped in and we just moved on to other topics.
Then our conversation quickly disintegrated. I think I shouted some things about miracle wheat, child molestation, and how everything in the Bible gets written down 50 years after it happened. (Which really didn't phase them cuz as they so aptly pointed out God can jog memories into accuracy). Ohhh but I did get a nice lengthy rant in on how * up it is to call an organization of people and what they teach 'THE TRUTH'. I said "Doesn't that then imply everyone else has 'falsehood' they live by" Again, no response for that.
Then we dove off into judging people. The healthful benefits of disfellowshipping were also discussed. And they told me, "We don't believe we are better than others! We don't think everyone will die at armegeddon who doesn't believe what we do." I nearly fell off my chair. That was a newsflash to me. Also, did you guys know..."Jehovahs Witnesses are happier than other people" To which I had to ask "How many non-witnesses do you know? I mean REALLY know and associate with on a regular basis?" To which she said "I talk to my family" to which I said "And they don't seem happy?" and she said "They lack religious hope." I said "So no one can be happy without that hope?" Silence.
Then the family history stuff did bubble out. Snapshots of guilt trips were revisited like a dusty old slideshows we have seen a million times. I managed to toss a few of the hateful things my mother said about me back at her. For those of you who miss the Joanna vs. Her Mother weekly drama updates here are the highlights.
- She needs prozac because I don't go to meetings
- She can't go to meetings because she is embarassed that I am not there
- She is hurt when people ask where I am
- She tried to kill herself, because of me
- I have a sick and distorted world view
- I am immature (this last one I deserve because I did say she could kiss my ass as a nice punctuation to our discussion this evening)
- I am irrational
- I am depressed and that's why I don't get holy spirit
She then burst into tears and said she was a horrible mother. I told her she just thought she was a horrible mother because the organization reinforces to her that she is a failure as a mother because I am not a witness and that's where 90% of her guilt and anger towards me comes from. To which her only response was 'No I thought I was a horrible mother before I became a witness" It never fails to amaze me that no matter what. NO MATTER WHAT! The organization can not be blamed. It's her fault, not theirs.
There were a host of other things discussed. Teen baptisim. Apparantly no one forces us to do it. They waved off my arguement that "don't you think peer pressure has anything to do with it?
A host of other things I can't even remember were tossed into the religious blender to be hacked up, and sloshed together in a dacquri of misquotes, missed points, never finished arguments and a dash of fallacious statements for that extra flavor.
It ended very badly. Again, because I am overly emotional. I couldn't take it anymore. For the 8th time in that two hour long discussion I was dismissed as being irrational. (Emotional I will agree to, irrational-no) And since seven times before, I said "why is it irrational for me to believe one way, and you another? Why is your belief system less irrational than mine?", I couldn't take it that eighth time. I stomped off. Very mature. I ended with a few choice words. I regret them now, but again--emotionality over came me. I Sped off in my car. I am now huddled in a university library trying to stop shaking.
But it's out there. It finally bubbled over from my lips like frothing poision. I told them I wished they weren't witnesses. But the most hateful acidic thing I could have said I am sure is still burning in their brains: "I'm an apostate...and I think God is dead."
God may be dead, I just wish it was me instead.
Edited by - Englishman on 19 January 2003 11:42:37