Pressure

I my culture/religion (they're the same around here), when someone "falls away from the flock" and stops coming to church, it becomes the flock's mission to bring them back. The intent seems to be altruistic. Sometimes it's clearly to earn brownie points in heaven.

Whatever the intent, the methods are nothing short of frustrating. I know because my husband and I have been the latest targets. It started with asking if we were comfortable at church, if we'd been offended, etc. Then it was "let's make a commitment to do X,Y,Z." Then I got my first talk sent to me. It was about being grateful.

I'm often misunderstood, so I'm used to this. But this is where it started to get annoying. I'd told them why I wasn't coming. Granted, there were a lot of reasons, but I told them every single one. However, it seems like it went into one ear and out the other. Maybe this talk was trying to appeal to the depression. Many people mistakenly believe that people say they're depressed because they don't see what they have. They don't realize how good they have it in life.

It just isn't true. At least not in my case. I have a professional diagnosis. It's severe. And it certainly doesn't stem from being ungrateful. I am grateful. I realize how much I have, how lucky I am, all of that. I KNOW I have so much. It kinda makes my depression worse to know there are people who could have all I have and they'd do so much better with it. I don't deserve anything I have. I'm grateful, trust me.

So that really pissed me off. And, more so, it made me sad. My usual reaction. I knew what I was supposed to be doing. I knew if I didn't go, things would get worse. And they did. I requested that we get the sacrament at home. I never took it, but Stephen would. Maybe the second time our home teachers came over with the sacrament, they offered to have missionaries come visit us.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

"No." I said. I think I made it clear that I was pissed. I also think I explained again that the gospel wasn't the problem. The church is kind of a problem (and this stupid culture that comes right along with it). But the real, biggest, single problem I don't go to church is because I have severe social phobia and slightly more severe depression. I can barely get out of bed as it is and to get out, get dressed, and go to some stupid room stuffed with chronically-offended people is not my cup of tea.

When I read the scriptures, I feel hopeful. I feel loved and enlightened. When I go to church, it's always "us" against "them" and somehow I always seem to fit in the "them" category. I know not everyone thinks the same way in there. I'd even venture to say that no two people in there think alike. But I'm tired of the riling up. It's not how it's supposed to be. It's supposed to be refreshing and uplifting. I don't get the feelings I feel when I read the scriptures. It feels wrong. It feels... aggravating and, most of all, saddening.

You know, I can deal with that. Everyone is imperfect. Besides, I know it's where I'm supposed to be. Either through habit, brainwashing, or because this is Christ's church (no matter how well or mishandled it is). I know I should be there. I want to get sealed to Stephen.

There are also the things I've surely mentioned before. Plus, everyone in there is so hard on themselves. The're doing great, but then they always say "I can do better". You can, everyone can, but give yourself some dang credit. I just see these women joining the cocaine problem here in Utah because they just can't cut themselves a break. I digress. Honestly, I'm just depressed. I just don't want another headache. I'm uncomfortable as it is, I don't need to have this invisible war shoved down my throat. We're not nearly as persecuted as we think we are. "The gays" aren't out to get us. The law of the land is just the law of the land. We know it's not reflective of God's laws. Never has been, really. Just. Freaking. Chill, already. Everything will be sorted out by the fairest judge in existence. You just worry about yourself.

I believe I have a close relationship with God (that or I'm terribly schizophrenic). I know he wants and expects more of me, but he is patient with me. He's been so kind to Stephen and me. We've been blessed despite our transgressions. We owe him our entire existence. We owe him everything. I know we can do better. Lots better.  I know we have a lot to contribute to the church. I have a strong testimony of the truth of The Book of Mormon. I don't need missionaries. I don't need your handouts, booklets, and DVDs, I just need to get healthier.

That was a tangent. Anyway, my home teachers would visit us later, but we didn't get the sacrament at home anymore. I didn't like it anyway. We just stopped going at all. Our home teachers (bless their hearts) would still visit us every month. I got more talks and testimonies sent to me from members of the ward. It was frustrating to be so misunderstood, but I appreciated their intent.

A few months after the "missionary" debacle, our home teachers came over and asked us about our feelings on the church and the gospel. Probably to start from square one. I don't think they were prepared for our answers. Stephen and I, of course, have different reasons. They offered me a booklet to keep. I refused, telling them politely that I am offended by these kinds of offerings.

A few weeks later (maybe a month later), we were visited by the stake president and a counselor. That was a huge joke. They came over under the pretense that they check on members often and they were just checking in on us. I knew that was bullshit, but we tried to be pleasant anyway. I knew that there was a good intent somewhere. They knew a lot about us. I wonder where they got the information from. I guess I could've asked. Anyway, it eventually came to them asking us where we stand with the gospel and the church.

They weren't ready for our answers, either. Long story short, I think we really offended them. Even though I told them every single thing, after Stephen told them he didn't go because he didn't like peoples' annoying opinions, they just amounted everything to that sole reason. A reason that I didn't share. They basically said that we shouldn't care about other opinions and go anyway. That me separating the church from the gospel (something that works for me and allows me to consider going to church at all) was a slippery slope. That was when I got disheartened. I just deflated and threw in the towel, just as they had. P.S: It's not a slippery slope to have testimony of some things and not others.

They offered us a DVD of the prophet's life and his testimonies. Stephen was being quiet the whole time. I looked to him as I did a few times already to see if he had anything to say, and he didn't. So I just answered for myself. "I wouldn't want it." I'd have explained why (I already have a testimony), but I said that before and they probably couldn't have cared less.

It was awkward to say the least. After they left, I just cried. It was so frustrating. I was a good girl most of my life. I read the scriptures by myself on my own terms. I always had a testimony of the love of my savior and God. I knew who I was, despite the mental illnesses and their total control over every aspect of my life. I was in a bad place when I met Stephen. I got in a worse place, and stayed there.

I'm working on it. I'm doing everything I can. 7 pills a day, therapy once a week, psychiatrist once a month. I just don't see how I can do more to become healthy. And that's what I really need, first and foremost. It just hurts to know that nobody really cares about my reasons, they just want me to be there. Probably for the sake of good numbers on the rosters and not having lost sheep.

I just cried. I'm tired of people telling me - or pretending to know -who I am and what I believe. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the missionary work, the handouts, the assumptions, the invitations, the pretending to care. The pressure. I'm tired of it. So...

They win.

I'll go to church, just to get them to leave me the hell alone.