Re: ME and religion

[Guest guest]

Sunspot: I am humbled and awed by your post. You have cut right into the heart

of FOG, the madness of it all. I, too, have experienced the Divine in some of

the most unexpected places. Usually I categorize these experiences as

exceptions--but your post has opened my eyes to seeing them more as the norm and

to quit thinking about spirituality in terms of FOO programming (i.e., because

nada said it, it is so). Gol, sometimes I am just shocked to find a pocket of my

thinking that still carries so much nada toxicity.

Your dream was very shocking. Nine years old? Holy cow, that must have been

horrifying to try to understand at that age.

I will be coming back to these words frequently for inspiration. Thank you.

>

> Hi Echobabe,

>

> I share a dream, in this post that may be triggering, but ends ok . . . .

> .

>

> I finally came to the conclusion that " religion " and a state of " grace "

> within the context of the universe have very little to do with each other.

> For myself, I appreciate the *intent* of religion at its best, ( as I

> interpret it, the desire to connect with a positive power greater than

> oneself,) and the *intent * of someone wishing to pray for me, ( to add

> compassionate support, and strengthen the connection to the divine, to

> another person during a time of need,) but I also add, in my own heart an

> adenda to their prayers, that " The Great All that Is' " whatever that may

> or may not be, not let other peoples agendas, form, or processing get in

> the way of my relationship with the Devine.

> Personally, many of my own experiences of spiritual grace and

> compassion have come, when most needed, from totally unexpected,

> inexplicable, and unorthadox sources, leaving me stunned, humble, and

> deeply grateful.

>

> In a BPD home environment, or any kind of interaction with character

> disorders, *everything and anything* is fodder and supply for their

> disordered machinations.

> The weather, your hair, *their* hair family pets, stray animals, wonderful

> strangers, psychic phenomenon, UFOs, what the neighbors might be thinking,

> what YOU are really thinking, diet, bodily functions, the *right* way to

> do anything, the* wrong* way to do anything, and on, and on and on . . . .

> Any penny fits the slot, and religion is an especially shiny penny for many

> character disorders.

> After all, if you've got the BIG GUY on your side, punishing you and

> others, or, perversely, *against* you, you can stir up a lot of drama and

> chaos, and, as we all have experienced, manipulation, control, drama and

> chaos are the sum and substance of the Character Disordered individuals

> life. They use EVERYTHING within grasp to control and manipulate. They

> can, do, and will use anything and everything you love, respect, and hope

> for to bludgeon you over the head with, to control you, to keep you afraid,

> dependent, uncertain.

> Character Disordered Individuals do not perceive* anyone else* as being a

> real person, with the right to be treated with integrity and compassion. In

> fact, the lack of, or inability to experience the state of empathy and

> compassion are hallmarks of the Character Disordered Individual. They may

> behave " as if " they are expressing these traits, but their brains do not

> experience the same chemical tides in these areas of the brain, that non-

> disordered people experience. Compassion and empathy are simply not " there "

> for these people, and their attempts to express such states are always

> theatrical and manipulative, and are always in the service of their

> disorder.

>

> " Religion, " is all too often used as a weapon or a malignant tool by

> those with bad intent. It can be terrifying and ruinous. However, when we,

> like Dorothy, look behind the curtain, and challenge the man (or woman)

> pulling the strings and making the scary voices, we can begin to divest

> ourselves of the lies, manipulation, and bad intent of those who sought to

> manipulate and control us in the service of their own brokeness.

>

> I don't know what God is or isn't for anyone else, or if God does or

> doesn't exist, but a deep, inexorable longing within me cries out in the

> darkness of my own pain and grief for succor and relief, and my heart

> breaks into millions of tiny pieces knowing that there are others who also

> suffer, in these same, and, in even greater ways..

> I find that those, who have, and who continue to reach out, to grapple

> for my hands in these dark, terrible and desperate moments , offering me

> their own strength, courage, and deep, healing compassion, *even* while

> they suffer within the depths of their own pain, struggle and loss, is

> proof enough, for me, of the Divine.

>

> Our FOO home realities were based in madness and chaos. Their constructs

> of right and wrong, good and evil, male and female, and certainly religion,

> were skewed to serve their Illness and disorder, and used as weapons and

> tools to manipulate and control, *NOT* to strengthen, empower, or to

> enlighten. I'm pretty darn sure I don't believe in, or trust *their *construct

> of " God, " either.

>

> Someone once said to me that Trust is not about putting untested faith

> in someone ( or somebody elses dogma) to do the right thing, or to be the

> " TRUTH " Trust is knowing *who* the other person is, (or what the dogma is

> in service to) recognizing the dedications of their character, and knowing

> that they will *always *act in ways that support, feed, and service these

> characterological dedications.

>

> People ( and organizations) *always *act in service to their

> dedications.

>

> Now, whenever I am in a new situation, or meet someone, or am invited to

> participate in an organization of any kind, I automatically assess their

> " dedication. " Are they invasive, manipulative, do the respect boundaries,

> are they too-chummy-too soon, are they a " friendly " bully, an outright

> manipulator, needy, helpless, in crisis, witholding, rejecting, and why?

> Or, conversely, Some are genuinely warm and friendly, encouraging and

> ready to share their lives with others. I listen closely for " ends justify

> the means " statements, guilt producing techniques, and polarizing or

> triangulation behaviors and dialogue.

>

> As for forgiveness, the first person I need to forgive, is myself, for

> behaving in ways, within my FOO, that betrayed my own integrity.

>

> Our FOOs created roles and prescribed behaviors that sometimes forced

> us, in the service of our own emotional, and sometimes, literally, physical

> survival, to collude against ourselves. Ie. to accept responsibility for

> acts we did not commit, thoughts we did not think, to smile and kiss them

> after we had been harmed or punished, to agree with them in order not to

> cause trouble, etc.

>

> Even though we participated in such atrocities against our " SELF, " in

> order to survive, we still may be deeply angry with our " self " for not

> standing up and telling our own truth. My own sense of self betrayal is

> devastating. It will not happen again.

>

> I will not let my FOO take one more moment, not one tiny half ounce of my

> " self, " my personal integrity, my worth as a human being, my creativity or

> my right to joy and friendship, and love.

>

> I will not be infantalized, trivialized, lied to, lied about, made

> afraid, lulled into a false sense of security, teased and tormented with

> inheritance, or bough with hopes and promises of parental love, acceptance

> and affection.

>

> I will not let my FOO, obfuscate the Divine, by dressing it up in gender,

> crowning it with vindictiveness, arming it with seduction and tears, and

> seating it on a throne built on sadomasochism. OR, conversely, to destroy *

> my* connections to the Divine by claiming it doesn't exist.

>

> I think the Divine is bigger than that.

>

> But, that's just me.

>

> Echo, don't allow crazy people to take anything away from you, unless *you

> *are sure *you want *to give it up. Conversely, You don't have to accept

> something just because crazy people tell you its a gift.

>

> Years ago, I had a dream, wherein I received an expensive, fancy -

> schmancy doll in a frilly box for my birthday. Everyone at the party ooohd

> and aaahd over it, in syrupy tones, " Oooh, what a beautiful dolll! What a

> lucky little girl you are... " and so on ad nauseum. But, I didn't like the

> doll, it looked dead to me, I didn't want the doll, it was scarry and

> creepy, and just didn't seem right.

> I must not have looked quite appreciative enough, or gratefully

> enraptured, because I could feel familiar fingernails digging into the

> backs of my arms, and an ugly voice whisper, over, and over, " you selfish

> little bitch, you selfish little shit. . . " So. . . . I smiled my biggest,

> shiniest, good girl smile, and everyone clapped and cheered.

> But, I felt horrible, and sick and empty. I hated that Dead Thing in my

> arms, but I had to carry it around, from table to table, and show it off,

> and smile!

> As I passed from table to table, something terrible began to happen.

> The doll began to crumble in my arms, first, from the back, and under

> her fancy dress, and as the dust ran from under her skirts, and her arms

> crumbled, the smiles on peoples faces became frozen and hard, and they

> wanted to get away from me, and I was so scared and confused,

> I didn't make it happen, I wasn't destroying the horrible thing, it was

> just crumbling away, and I was sickened and terrified by the sight!

> Her body was turning to dust, to sand, it was all crumbling in my hands,

> blowing away, and I couldn't make it stop, and I didn't know what to do,

> and I could still hear that awful voice, you ungrateful little bitch, you

> selfish little shit. . . I had nowhere to turn, I tried to smile bigger,

> and act " pretty, " but the doll just fell apart faster.

> As she crumbled, and fell from my hands, I felt something move, just a

> little, And my horror blossomed, huge and ugly, as I could discern a

> slight, and tentative flutter within the ruins of the cheap lacey dress. I

> felt a profound fear, confusion, and grief, as something struggled out of

> the bodice, and into my palm, where it huddled, all kind of folded up,

> dusty, breathless and panting,

> Then, it lept from my hand, and soared, a simple brown bird, singing,

> beautiful, joyful into the sky.

>

> I was nine when I had this dream, it has stayed with me all my life,

> I've never shared it before, but I offer it to you, as a token of " self, "

> of joy, of trust in your own instincts. We're grown up now, we can learn to

> forgive our sins and transgressions against our self as well against as

> others, trust ourselves, our own instincts, and, in doing so, trust those

> around us to be who they are, and not fall prey to fancy wrapping, scary

> voices, or social pressure.

>

> Sorry this is such a long response. Your post touched me deeply, and

> inspired a lot of thought.

>

> (((((((((Trust Yourself,)))))))))))))) Sunspot

>