In Mourning

The past week has been a very difficult one for me.  I find myself in mourning once again. This most recent round of crying spells centered on the truth that I will never have a child.  That I will never experience pregnancy.  The catalyst for my pitiful mood was seeing a mom crossing the street with her daughter when I was on my way home on Friday.  Out of the blue (or maybe not), I started balling - y'know one of those UGLY headache cries - and it went on all weekend.  I was so tired by Sunday from all the crying that when I finally went to bed, I passed out and was dead to the world.  Today I feel languid, almost like I am on autopilot. 

        I always wanted kids.  Two boys at least.  During my time in the cult I was a pioneer, I was on the RBC, served in a foreign language congregation, went to additional conventions and assemblies (other than the ones to which I was assigned), and I was considered a "popular" witness - I was invited to all of the parties, visited "friends" in other states, traveled outside of the U.S., I knew EVERYBODY.  In J-Dub world this is a recipe for finding a mate and getting married.  However, it did not work for me.  For all of the checks in the PROS column, I had some significant checks in the CONS column: ugly, black (how I hate that word), not submissive, fiercely independent, and opinionated.  I had lost the 'mate' race before I even started it.  Therefore having offspring of my own would never  happen.

        I don't understand why seeing that mom and her daughter affected me so deeply.  I can't blame it on hormones since I lost both ovaries in a total hysterectomy in 2004.  But i found myself wanting to be pregnant and wanting to be a mother.  The emotions have subsided a little, but not completely. 

        One side effect of this recent bout of sadness is a flare up of that anger that is always just beneath the surface.  Anger that I put my life on hold for nothing more than a stupid man-made fairy tale.  Sometimes I think I will never free myself of this enmity toward watchtower.

Stepford Escapee

Bad Motivation - Anger

Anger: noun

1. a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong; wrath; ire.

Anger is the one emotion that feels natural to me.  It wears me like a latex glove conforming to every negative space that envelopes my wounded psyche.  Without the anger I feel less than human, practically non-existent. 

Why am I so angry?  What could be so disconcerting to draw my ire?

The major thorn in my side is that I wasted nearly 40 years of my life in a brainwashed stupor following the designs of high control cult.  My youth and good health were stolen.  What stokes the fire even more is that the fact that I was too stupid to see the truth of my situation and save myself from it.   Now I am paying the price and hating every waking moment of my pitiful existence.

I am angry that the world tells me that I am inferior, yet I am constantly answering from and reminding people of things that should be common knowledge as if their brains are atrophied from lack of use.  I get royally pissed off when I have to constantly correct the work of those 'superior' to me, or take phone calls for simplistic questions that those 'superior' to me cannot seem to answer. 

I am angry that I work overtime every week and can still barely afford to keep a roof over my head.  If I have even two hours less overtime, I am in jeopardy of not paying one of my bills (and I don't have many at all). 

I am angry because I have to live in pain everyday because I can't afford to take off from work to get the surgery I so desperately need so I can function normally and live a more fulfilling life.  To be able to do my own grocery shopping, to take a walk, to dance, or to pursue the career I have wanted since I was in high school.  I am angry that I can't afford to have a dog when I really want to help rescue one that has been mistreated.

I am angry that I must leave my apartment every day to go to work terrified that I might be stopped by some maniac police office who is itching to kill anything with skin darker than a brown paper bag.  Terrified that each day I travel to and from work might be my last because my skin is seen as a weapon by the 'superior' end of the species.

I am angry that I can't even visit Starbucks without having an anxiety attack because I am afraid that the sorry ass barista  working the counter will call the police on me because I had the nerve to walk in to purchase a beverage or to have a seat because the pain in my back is about to make me fall on my ass.

I am angry that 14 years ago I lost my mother and I was so poor I could not afford to be there with her at the end.  Angry that in order to make it home for the funeral, I had to accept charity from my younger brother's employer because I did not have the funds to purchase the plane ticket.  Angry that I can't afford to blow off California and move back east to be there for a friend of my who is sick, and to be with people who know me and support me because they care about me, not the religion I practice (or don't practice).

I am angry because I let myself get fat and disgusting because I allowed my self to believe that jehovah would make me perfect in the new order. I am angry that because I drank the Kool-Aid and believed that I would get to have a family in the paradise so I gave an opportunity at love so I could be a 'good little witness'.  Now I will die never having experienced romantic love, raising a child, owning a home, just being a normal human being.

This is how I live every single day.  Pissed off.  The only time I get a break is when I finally close my eyes to sleep a few hours each night.  I have lived with my anger for so long that I don't know what life would look like without it.  It is like food, the only thing that gives me the energy to keep going.

I don't think I could survive without it.

Stepford Escapee

Bad Motivation - Fear

 n. - a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imaginged [...];

I am familiar with fear.  Fear rides on me like the Lone Ranger on Silver.  Fear rules my life.  Most of the decisions I make, are based on fear.

However, Fear can be necessary.  It can help us get away from danger or avoid it all together.  Fear will help us to be cautious when driving a car, to be alert when walking through an unfamiliar neighborhood, and fear of being "ordinary" can make you strive to be extraordinary.

On the flip side, fear can be paralyzing. 

I grew up with fear as a close companion. Growing up as a JDub, the constant talk about armageddon and the possiblity of being tortured by the authorities kept me in a heightened sense of fear.  Everytime I would hear about some major [violent] event on the news, I just knew armageddon was about to start and found myself obssessing about whether I was strong enough to withstand being tortured for my beliefs. 

And as it that did not cause enough anxiety, I also had to worry about Jehovah killing me if I did cave under the pressure of being tortured.  I remember being in field service one day and the elder in the car was telling the group that Jehovah knows our greatest fears and that if we are not loyal he would kill us at armageddon the way we feared most of dying.

You have no idea how what this elder said, f***ked with my head.  Every time I did anything wrong, no matter how insignificant, all I could think about was how jehovah was going to take pleasure in killing me using one of my worst phobias to do it.  It is no wonder why I was on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety drugs.

Not all of my fears can be attributed to my time enslaved in religion. 

I fear leaving my apartment every morning to drive to work and then leaving work to drive home.  Why?  Because every police vehicle I see is a potential death sentence for me because I had the misfortune of being born in the wrong skin.  If I could find a legitemate "work at home" position, I would probably never leave my apartment.

I fear falling in public and then seeing my fat ass blasted all over YouTube.

I fear people feeling sorry for me because I am fat, hideous, and poor.

And I fear failure.  Probably the worst fear that I harbor. In part this fear is encoded in my DNA so I feel like I can never escape it.  This fear was nurtured in the in the JW culture which was never satisfied with one's level of participation.  You could give that organization blood, piss, and tears and they will still say that you are not doing enough.  It is no surprise that I was constantly taking anti-anxiety meds during my time as an active JW.

Then there are the "silly" fears, also called phobias:

Fear of worms

Fear of heights

Fear of phone calls (making them and receiving them)

Fear of confrontation

Fear of crowds

Fear of body fluids

Fear of large houses and hidden doorways

Fear of wood structures

And many more...

Unfortunately fear is a large part of the human experience.  The trick is learning to face it head on and do what scares the hell out of you.  If you don’t you will feel perpetually “stuck” in life.  Trust me.  I know.  It is an everyday struggle for me to not let my fears paralyze me.  It is a constant uphill battle, but I am determined to fight it day by day.

Stepford Escapee

A Brief Glimpse of Hope

It is not often that something breaks through the consistent black fog of despondency that surrounds me.  This weekend, however, there was a small breach.

Black Panther.

I have been anxiously awaiting this movie for more than a year, and I got to scratch that itch this past Saturday when I went to see the film.

I was not disappointed.  As with any movie, there were some “slow” parts, but once again Marvel Studios delivered a great entertainment experience.  I will not divulge any spoilers, I will simply give my impression of the movie.

Sets/Scenery/Filming locations: The scenes filmed in Africa were stunning. Wakanda came alive like a modern day Oz.  I really liked the juxtaposition of the traditional African accouterments with the futuristic technology.

The Cast: What else can I say??  To see a predominantly black cast and the movie not be about slavery - BONUS!!!  The cast members were people I could be proud of: intelligent, resourceful, creative, powerful, and fiercely independent.

The Women: I must give them their own paragraph.  NO BABY MAMMAS!!!!!!  The women were confident and strong.  They were the protectors of the realm.  Their natural beauty was highlighted - no relaxers, no weaves, no bleaching cream, and no colored contacts.

The Men: NO BABY DADDYS!!!!  The male characters were proud.  They took their responsibilities seriously and cared for their family and fellows.  They did not bow down to people of other ethnicities or look to them for their sense of self-worth or approval. 

Favorite Character: Killmonger.  I know he was the "villain" of the film, but I found myself understanding his position.  I did not agree with the way he chose to do something about the plight of his people but I take no issue with the reason he felt a call to action.

I really appreciated that this movie did not shy away from topics that are relevant for people of color today.  I know that this probably upset some white moviegoers, but hey, C'est Le Vie.  My response to that is this.  Just because something is irrelevant to your experience, does not invalidate that experience for others.  If you have never been raped, you cannot tell a rape survivor that he/she was not raped or that rape does not happen.  If you have never experienced domestic abuse, then you are not in a position to tell a survivor of domestic abuse that what they lived through is not domestic abuse.

But let's not end on a sombre note. 

This is a movie I would recommend to my fellow Marvel Universe fans.  Did it have some flaws?  Of course; every film does, but don't let that deter you from spending an evening being thoroughly entertained.   I think you will be pleasantly surprised.

Black Panther Box Office as of 03/16/2018 - $1,126,476,528 worldwide.

Domestic: $578,376,528                 Foreign: $548,100,000

Ciao,
Stepford Escapee

I Hate February 14th

Valentine's day - one of the worst days of the year.  Bitter much?  Yes I am. 

Valentine's day is just another day of the year that has no meaning in my life.  I have never had a boyfriend or significant other.  Never been in love.  And in all likelyhood, I will die having never experienced these things. 

People say that there is someone for everyone.  Just another lie.

In the social group I was raised in, if you were a black female, your chances of finding a mate was even worse than in the world in general.  So from my preteen years, I already knew I would probably be alone my entire life and die that way.  I have this recurrent 'daymare' in which I die, and I am not found until weeks later, because I have no one who cares.  The older I get the more I fear that this will become more than just a dream.

I grew up in a culture where dating was not acceptable unless you were ready to walk down the aisle.  It wasn't even called dating (that word was kind of taboo), it was called courting and it had only one purpose - to get to know your potential mate with the end goal being a wedding.  When you found someone you were interested in and you wanted to start courting, you had to be chaperoned; holding hands was frowned upon, and kissing - ABSOLUTELY NOT!  If by some unfortunate circumstance you did something more intimate than kissing (like touching a breast or the nether regions), well you had better rat yourself out to the "older men in the congregation" and take your discipline.

Even as f*cked up as dating was in the weird world of JWs, I would have like to have had the experience of being important to someone at least once.  But being born "black" (I despise this term, my skin is chocolate brown, NOT black) and ugly, I might as well had been invisible because no one sees you (guess I was noticed at least once in my life because a brother in my congregation told me I was ugly when we were out in field service.  I have never forgotten that day and I still want to punch that 'brother' in his face.)

I did make the mistake of letting myself crush on four different JW males, but I came to my senses when I remembered that I was less than nothing to these people.  In all honesty, I got what I deserved because I was the dumb bitch who made the mistake of thinking that maybe some would want me.

However, in the spirit of full disclosure, there was the potential of a relationship once.  He was a fellow student that I met at junior college.  He was 10 years my junior but we hit it off and became fast friends (something I have never had a problem with - I make friends pretty easily).  Things started to evolve and soon we were talking on the phone several times a week and I don't think we ever had a phone call that was less than 2 hours long.  We talked about everything - life, religion, politics, art, movies, sex, marriage, kids, a black woman's haircare, etc.  Talking to him was as natural as breathing.

I knew things were moving in the "wrong" direction when he asked me to ride with him on a class trip (for Art History 101) to the a popular museum. It was only me and him - we did not carpool with any of the other students.  On the way back to the college we stopped for dinner.  I remember being conflicted because I enjoyed his company, but because he was not a JW I was being disloyal to the "invisible dictator" in the sky.  I was also fearful of other JWs walking into the restaurant and seeing me with him.  Even with all the guilt I was feeling, I still went out to dinner with him again.  We went to an Irish pub and he gifted me a copy of "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" which was my favorite movie that year. 

Eventually the guilt won dominance and I started pulling away from him.  No explanation.  I did not treat him fairly.  I don't think a month goes by that I don't think about him and our brief time at least once.  That was the one and only chance I had to experience love and I threw it away because of the lies of a cult.  I can't even find the words to express the anger I still harbor about of this.

Now I am old and fat in addition to being black and unattractive.  A 100% guarantee that that I will die alone, never having experienced falling in love, never having had sex, and never having had a child of my own.

So, I hate Valentine's Day.  It is just a reminder of what I will never have.  Seeing people receive gifts from their significant others is like having a butcher's knife plunged into my gut and twisted for maximum damage.  I try to harden my heart and purge my soul of emotion but I am never completely successful. 

I guess my destiny is to suffer in silence until I finally drop dead and find a semblance of peace.

Stepford Escapee

Words from a "Happy" JW

When you are a JW you often hear from the platform and in the literature how you are "Jehovah's happy people".  I convinced myself I was happy.  But was I? 



This video was prompted by the call I received from an elder during my unemployed status.  He told me that I was happy when I was active.  Well, looks can be deceiving.  



In this entry I share just a few of the many poems I wrote while sitting in meetings at the Kingdom Hall, the one place I should have been able to find peace was like a vice grip on my throat.











Stepford Escapee

Growing up JW and Female. Lessons I learned.

This video really touched me.  I felt pretty much the same way growing up as a female in the JW organization.  Lucy for Danmera, she learned that she had some worth.  I still feel like a useless lump of flesh.



Stepford Escapee