tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post4465593660978285175..comments2024-03-18T23:17:50.762-04:00Comments on Bless Our Hearts: Questions On QuestioningMs. Moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-81877398967541889862017-12-02T23:07:33.135-05:002017-12-02T23:07:33.135-05:00No but I will look for a recipe. I love bacon! I l...No but I will look for a recipe. I love bacon! I love you too!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-12539506012685075012017-12-02T22:46:27.357-05:002017-12-02T22:46:27.357-05:00God, your mom did that too? Fuck, i love my mom, b...God, your mom did that too? Fuck, i love my mom, but to say that's not a fair thing to intimate to your own children, would be an understatement. (She's come a long way since we were kids, but she still inserts it into conversation now and then. Makes me wonder if *my* brain will ever be ok. [At least from an emotional standpoint. I'm fairly resigned as to the rest of it. :P]) I'm so sorry. I know how awful that feels.Ajaxhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-16009003997010835152017-12-01T18:29:43.718-05:002017-12-01T18:29:43.718-05:00That is interesting. Are you curious about these f...That is interesting. Are you curious about these family stories? <br />Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-82242795499794919882017-12-01T18:28:38.605-05:002017-12-01T18:28:38.605-05:00"Because."
Okay. On one hand, it is so ..."Because." <br />Okay. On one hand, it is so sad that your mother told you that if you dropped your necklace on the bathroom floor you would die and on the other hand it's hysterical. <br />And isn't it so very, very weird how we can absolutely know an early teaching to be as false as a flat-earth and yet, still have pangs when we break the rules we were given? <br />Have you ever eaten bacon-wrapped shrimp? <br />The best. <br />I love you, Joanne. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-87252032132910339752017-12-01T18:26:14.599-05:002017-12-01T18:26:14.599-05:00I got your meaning, baby doll. And I would NEVER t...I got your meaning, baby doll. And I would NEVER tell you that what you feel is bullshit. Your feelings are as real as dirt which does not mean they are correct but they are very much your feelings. <br />You know what I just thought about? Steel Magnolias. Did you ever see it? Those women were all so different and M'Lynn was so absolutely kind and good and sweet and that was how everyone knew her while Ouiser was so apparently just mean. And yet, of course, Ouiser's heart was as good as M'Lynn's. All of the women's hearts were pure and true in their own ways, some of them were just spicier than others. I wish you felt you could allow yourself to show more of your spice because I love it when you do. "Fuck autocorrect." Hell yes. <br />Maybe you love the Ungrateful Bastard because he is who you wish you could be sometimes. Loved not for being sweet but for just being himself. Same reason I love Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm. He says all the things I wish I could. <br />Anyway, I love you. And if you're going to hell, so am I and we can hang out together. Okay? Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-39980891563416155022017-12-01T18:20:02.895-05:002017-12-01T18:20:02.895-05:00So let me ask you- was it only the fact that women...So let me ask you- was it only the fact that women could not become priests that tipped you off that your religion was horseshit? Because that takes a few steps of awareness. <br />My mother denied her emotions too all the well screaming that she was going to kill herself. Very odd. And yes, that makes it hard to have any idea what real feelings are and my god- any healing has to begin with us knowing how we feel. If we can't start there, we can't figure out why and thus- we're stuck in a maelstrom of emotion that we can't put anywhere safe. <br />Funny how you found a man who went right along with the dance your parents trained you in. As my therapist said, "We all go to relationship school in our parent's house." <br />Yeah. <br />Well, know you are loved and that is real. I swear- some day you will know that. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-10864594327408275392017-12-01T18:15:30.613-05:002017-12-01T18:15:30.613-05:00And Ajax, again your writing slays me. Boy. Am I g...And Ajax, again your writing slays me. Boy. Am I glad you met that Buddhist. I had a brief streak of Christianity around Jr. high age. Once my hormones turned on and I read a few books, though, it took off, never to be seen again. It wasn't nearly as strong as what I hear you talking about. <br />As to "pick a team" - haha! That's as absolutely wrong-headed as believing that gay people are unnatural. May I say that I love the word "smitten"? Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-21079208620567924432017-12-01T18:11:58.315-05:002017-12-01T18:11:58.315-05:00And once again, it smacks me upside the head how a...And once again, it smacks me upside the head how alike we are. I, too, was a preternaturally wise child who kept things from my elders because I knew they could not handle it. I wonder what would have happened had we spoken up? But it's a moot point. Five year olds just don't and neither do nine or ten year olds. At least they didn't. I hope that's changed. <br />FUCK the people who make children learn that they can survive. FUCK THEM AND AND DAMN THEM. <br />I am so sorry. I love you. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-79704690171661839782017-12-01T18:09:14.928-05:002017-12-01T18:09:14.928-05:00Oh, Maggi. I am so sorry you had to grow up in suc...Oh, Maggi. I am so sorry you had to grow up in such circumstances. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-66668426458678369332017-12-01T18:08:38.676-05:002017-12-01T18:08:38.676-05:00Wow! But you DID realize it and you listened to wh...Wow! But you DID realize it and you listened to what others around you had to say and I'm impressed. And from what you say about your father, he is still exactly the same to the extent that even his children do not merit his high-and-mightiness. You are a beautiful person and I think you have done very well. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-68880661392141047642017-12-01T18:06:13.589-05:002017-12-01T18:06:13.589-05:00That is beautiful Jill and a very fine example tha...That is beautiful Jill and a very fine example that people can overcome their own upbringings and do their best even if the situation isn't perfect. Sounds like they kept their children foremost in their home and that is not as often the case as it should be. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-15154966285869681542017-12-01T18:04:30.531-05:002017-12-01T18:04:30.531-05:00And that is lovely, Jo. No, I can see that you wou...And that is lovely, Jo. No, I can see that you wouldn't have thought your mother's beliefs were bullshit. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-52069446698454350682017-12-01T10:23:07.375-05:002017-12-01T10:23:07.375-05:00Look- we all have our days when we need the tinfoi...Look- we all have our days when we need the tinfoil hat. And I think that many of us have had our ability to trust crippled if not broken. Your brother should be shut up in a facility. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-54132142917058713312017-12-01T05:55:23.040-05:002017-12-01T05:55:23.040-05:00I think I'm pretty lucky on this front. I was ...I think I'm pretty lucky on this front. I was raised by very practical, academically-oriented parents who didn't go in for much mythology. We went to church, but it was always treated as a big metaphor -- not a literal story to believe but a metaphorical admonition to treat fellow humans with kindness and integrity. (Even though churches themselves often fail on this front!) And although I'm sure there were family stories that needed concealing, they were so well-concealed that for the most part I still don't know what they were!Steve Reedhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11684120060438252945noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-68138337091166331392017-12-01T00:28:50.481-05:002017-12-01T00:28:50.481-05:00I was told that if I dropped my Jewish necklace in...I was told that if I dropped my Jewish necklace in the bathroom, God would punish me. I was told that if I ate anything unkosher, I would die. I still have these voices in my head. But the fear is gone for the most part. I got sick the first time I ate shrimp and my sisters laughed at me. I’m over that. I’m very careful if I wear my hand with the Star of David and I walk into a bathroom. My mother gave the reason, “because” for everything. JoanneAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-34436450447502241012017-11-30T22:34:32.327-05:002017-11-30T22:34:32.327-05:00And fuck autocorrect while I’m at it. And fuck autocorrect while I’m at it. Birdiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03479872783727855901noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-47323557452534463292017-11-30T22:34:09.318-05:002017-11-30T22:34:09.318-05:00Marry, I can’t even begin to get my head around ju...Marry, I can’t even begin to get my head around just reading this post, never mind actually figuring out why I am a woman gone very wrong. I am not saying that for attention or for you to say I’m not. It’s true. I don’t fit on this planet because of all the “truths” I know/believe about myself. I just know I am sick to death of being fucking kind and nice. I’m not that way because I am a good person. I’m that way because I am a fucking chicken shit and my life is ruled by fear. Being a good and kind and loving person is a benefit to everyone but me. I stay alive for my kids. Or I would be done with all of it long ago. Oh, yeah. I also can’t I’ll myself because I live in terror or gong to hell. Birdiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03479872783727855901noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-58649025910759702422017-11-30T22:18:50.435-05:002017-11-30T22:18:50.435-05:00I was raised Catholic, and that was probably the l...I was raised Catholic, and that was probably the least problematic part of my childhood. I declared my vocation to be a priest to Sister LuAnn in second grade, and she promptly told me I couldn't simply because I was a girl, and I knew from that point forward that it was a load of horseshit. But it was my parents and their utter denial of emotions ("are you okay, Mom?" when she clearly wasn't, and her answer, always, that she was fine, that I was exaggerating, that she was angry because I was asking if she was angry, etc., the denial of her depression, my father's depression, my father's drinking problem, my mother's (and subsequently mine and my sisters') eating disorder--it was a childhood of being gaslighted. By the time I was with my ex husband, who regularly told me I wasn't feeling the way I felt, I was exaggerating, I was crazy, I genuinely THOUGHT i was crazy. I have spent years in therapy trying to figure out what is real, and what I'm making up. Ramona Quimbyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01308882206677929003noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-5088847641975840352017-11-30T22:17:46.223-05:002017-11-30T22:17:46.223-05:00The one good thing was I learned I could survive. ...The one good thing was I learned I could survive. 37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-52895718376847679782017-11-30T22:12:59.418-05:002017-11-30T22:12:59.418-05:00My spirit was a bit broken, in some senses, at an ...My spirit was a bit broken, in some senses, at an early age. I think that contributed significantly to my eating up religion with a spoon. I reckon some are able to find solace and assurance in it, but I always fell for the biblical fear-mongering tactics, rather than the more enlivening tenets. Internally, my mind struggled down slippery slope of guilt and self-flagellation. Outwardly, i was a holier-than-thou, self-righteous, priggedy bitch. I was a Christian camp counselor, the girl who spear-headed the "Meet at the Flagpole" prayer events in Jr. High, i mean, <i>in it</i>, and on my own volition. (My parents planted the seed, and well, it sprouted, to say the least.)<br /><br />Then, in college i dated a Buddhist for a few years, an amazing dude. I realized if <i>he</i> isn't going to heaven for not eating up the Jesus cookie, then i don't want any part in that place.<br /><br />My dad's side of the family, in contrast, are a bunch of Pagan hippies. They're pretty damn open and accepting. That said, on both sides, i was lead to believe fat-shaming is acceptable. (Not to people's faces, but still.) And even my incredibly open-minded dad was fine if people were gay, but *none of that 'bi' nonsense*. I remember him saying, <i>Pick a team!</i> and I was like, <i>Yeah!</i> Ha. At this point i've dated, and been totally smitten, by both men and women. Haven't the slightest clue which team. (Sea cucumbers, probably!) :DAjaxhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-70828156956026012812017-11-30T22:09:45.857-05:002017-11-30T22:09:45.857-05:00I think I have been forever imprinted by the exper...I think I have been forever imprinted by the experience of living and going to school in London as a 5 year old and knowing that I was not accepted, that everything that could be wrong with a 5 year old was wrong with me. At least in the eyes of my classmates and the teacher too. And then the landlord’s 28 year old son who took me riding on his motorcycle and other things and I never told my parents because at age 5 I already knew it would destroy them. And they might destroy him. Somehow the choice I made seemed easier. How would I have been different today if I hadn’t chosen to swallow the thing that happened. To bury it inside myself instead of allowing it light and air. 37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-75725345942689001232017-11-30T21:22:06.654-05:002017-11-30T21:22:06.654-05:00Yes and will speak Anger hurt and more but 2am UK ...Yes and will speak Anger hurt and more but 2am UK and gin imbibed so a different hour and sober voice better l think. Love ya mrs moon as the moon gets rounder maggi the moonstruck Brit xAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-57893970252123640152017-11-30T20:50:06.547-05:002017-11-30T20:50:06.547-05:00There was always the unspoken sense of entitlement...There was always the unspoken sense of entitlement, of us naturally better, more intelligent and proper in all respects. No religion involved. My parents' and grandparents' "religion" was status and especially academic status. We were obviously better in everything and it was expected that you excelled - never mind if you didn't because there were always bad teachers, low quality tools or someone's poorly tuned puano to blame, while we so gallantly looked down on the world. <br />As a teenager I tried a couple of shock treatment attempts incl. drugs and the "wrong" kind of friends, I even went to a Baptist summer camp but my father thought I was preparing for a career in anthropology and approved. <br />It was tedious and ugly and stifling. But my parents were raised that way as were theirs and I can trace back generations of class superiority until I am ready to puke.<br />What a waste.<br />There were a couple of people who put me right, who told me in no uncertain terms to get down from that high horse or rock and roll was not for me.<br />I remember every one of these people, every instance with great clarity as if it happened yesterday. I can still feel how it stung me to realise how fake and how hollow my family's world view was.Sabinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09015827501648296977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-88156860585437616172017-11-30T20:47:00.382-05:002017-11-30T20:47:00.382-05:00There was always the unspoken sense of entitlement...There was always the unspoken sense of entitlement, of us naturally better, more intelligent and proper in all respects. No religion involved. My parents' and grandparents' "religion" was status and especially academic status. We were obviously better in everything and it was expected that you excelled - never mind if you didn't because there were always bad teachers, low quality tools or someone's poorly tuned puano to blame, while we so gallantly looked down on the world. <br />As a teenager I tried a couple of shock treatment attempts incl. drugs and the "wrong" kind of friends, I even went to a Baptist summer camp but my father thought I was preparing for a career in anthropology and approved. <br />It was tedious and ugly and stifling. But my parents were raised that way as were theirs and I can trace back generations of class superiority until I am ready to puke.<br />What a waste.<br />There were a couple of people who put me right, who told me in no uncertain terms to get down from that high horse or rock and roll was not for me.<br />I remember every one of these people, every instance with great clarity as if it happened yesterday. I can still feel how it stung me to realise how fake and how hollow my family's world view was.Sabinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09015827501648296977noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2086296370004835655.post-76011529800634059582017-11-30T20:15:31.595-05:002017-11-30T20:15:31.595-05:00Something I only fully realized as an adult is jus...Something I only fully realized as an adult is just how well my parents raised us. They were a terrible match and fought constantly, but that is literally the only negative I have. Both were raised in tough situations with little love in their immediate homes, and with violence. I think they both subconsciously made a decision to do differently. And I know they were both raised in homes that were hateful and bigoted and again they did the opposite. I stand in awe of it often. So I have no tales of be but I guess of hope. And now I feel the need to once again thank my parents :)Jillhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06671446238805535547noreply@blogger.com