Session #2

Last session I ended with beating myself up. Every day I would examine my self worth, find it was not of great value, and then chastise my own soul for not being who I really wanted to be as well as whom I was afraid to become. It didn’t matter as I couldn’t move. Being  restricted, restrained and held in a religious limbo. This could be forgotten sometimes if concentration was used and I kept busy in life. Sure, it reared it’s ugly head often, most especially at night as I had more time to delve deep into my psyche and really think about things. Doesn’t that happen to all of us? Nighttime is the worst. Clutching hands, blood, darkness, evil and regret.

Like our times alone when a child, hiding under the covers. We KNEW the  monster was there under the bed, or in the closet. Yeah…in the closet. He or she was INDEED still in the closet. Yet, that was
still a fraction of it. Worry about my own preservation was an issue as was whether I would make it to adulthood , still intact mentally and emotionally. Yet, what happens when daylight arrives….we feel better and have a sudden change in thoughts and forgive ourselves for the previous night’s indiscretions, whether they were ideas, actions or simply thinking of taboo subjects.

As my religious studies continued, I started to actually believe some of the things taught to me. The manner in which I was taught, the interchange of thoughts and “proof” in which I was fed ended up changing me. Thus, I became THAT humanoid . The one I dreaded , the one I wished I would never be. The same person that I saw in others. A hypocrite who was saying one thing, but believing another for the most part, yet some of the new ideas resonated as they were pounded into my brain daily, weekly, monthly. During the day, at church or in the ministry, I felt invincible, powerful and like I really was of a chosen class. At night, alone in bed or by myself, things were vastly different. It took some time to realize that the situation would have to change someday. I felt like the apostle Paul, who persecuted Christians one day and then became one himself years later. Did he also struggle with things? Possibly he did. Still, why did he write what he did and how have those words become so distasteful to me?
Times have not changed in some ways and have in most . He was also a hypocrite, like myself and therefore, following and becoming such an individual was NOT what I wanted. Freedom was my desire.

 By the age of eighteen, I had moved with my parents and younger brother to Portland, Oregon. Ahhh yes. THIS was a vastly different place for me to be. To go from a very conservative Spokane to open and free Portland was a major shift in my life dynamic. Time to explore, to learn, open the mind and study all I could. Yes, I still was being “taught” by the church but suddenly, their words seemed to be much more hollow than before. Things were changing in my own world as well as that of the church. Positive for me, negative for them. Thus starts a new chapter in my own existence and one that opened up a vista, though far away still, was at least barely in sight.

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