TW: Religious Trauma

I was a "born in the convenant" LDS Church member. And I was active and open with my Church leaders from the time that I started reporting to them to the time that I left the LDS church. 

This included the abuse that I was a victim of from the time I was seven to the time I was eighteen. 

I kept trying, though - both with the reporting to my chuch leaders and the activity that my brain told me I needed based on indoctrination.

I didn't go on a mission - for females, it wasn't a requirement of the church for me to go on a mission in the States or abroad. Instead, by the time I would have been sent on a mission, I was married, but soon to be divorced. That did not make me the best candidate for a representative of #The_One_True_Church, so I did not go on a mission. 

But I was abused. And I reported my abuse - not to my parents, by to my bishops through the time that I was abused. 

Again - that was ages 7 to 18. I didn't report the abuse that occurred from 7-13 until I was being checked into a hospital to anyone other than my bishop. Even my mother - who was committing me - didn't know about the abuse and got to hear the details during the inttake interview. I was 15. The only people I had told up to that point were the bishops that interviewed me and asked about my sex life and masturbation practices from 12 to 18. 

Let me tell you: sex in any form - self-pleasuring, rape, or consensual sex - do not allow you to have a #temple_recommend in the #LDS_Church. The only way that I was able to participate in any temple ordinances was to say that it wasn't happening at the time. 

And, while the LDS clergy are not trained in the literal seminary, they are appointed with "divine dicernment" that allows them to ask minors about their sexual and masturbation practices. Do I have trauma surrounding this? Absolutely. I refuse to let any of my children join any church until they are legal adults (when I no longer have any say in their choices), because of the things that I endured in the LDS Church.

Sure, I stayed an awful long tyime. Even longer than my last sexual assualt and even the birth of my first child, but I refuse to let *ANY* of my children be told that they are at fault with *ANYONE* hurts them: me, their dad, their other family members, their friends, their schoolmates, the friends of our family - *ANYONE*. *NO ONE* is allowed to hurt my kids the way I was hurt. No one. Period. 

Don't try me. 

I will *gladly* end up in a prison cell to protect my kids. Don't try me. I don't play those games. They will not hurt like I do or wonder what it was all for. It isn't for any good reason. No one is protected. It doesn't matter what the perp says - no one is protected. 

Tell someone. 

Tell me. I will stand next to you. No matter what. I will be there. I will believe you. I will hold your hand and you. I will be your strength, because everyone need that. 

Memory Lane

Today Momma would have been 73. She died 9 and a half years ago and I miss her every day, but these "anniversaries" are so hard for me. What would she be like with the grandkids. The ones that she knew (from the younger generation of kiddos) will be 12 this year. The younger set of grandkids turn 8 this year. And they are all so different, so unique, and so .... amazing. Would she be as pleased with them as she was with the two year olds that she knew and spent so much time with during their early lives? Would she love the younger three as much as the older two? Does she now know the one in the middle that never took a breath in this world? Would she be proud of us, her children?

Oi..how I miss her. I want to hear her voice, the shake of her laugh, or even the edge of her voice when she's a little upset with us. I would take the hard edge over nothing every single day. 

I remember one of the days the spring before she passed where she and I were sitting together, talking while Blueberry watch The Backyardigans. I don't remember the specifics of the conversation, but I remember her being so unabashedly happy. So proud of the boy that her grandson was growing into. 

I remember the call, just weeks before she passed, when she called me and I was at work - I was a school bus driver in Havana at the time and not driving, but at the bus barn itself and Mom told me that my great-niece, Lindsay, had died. She was under 10 years old. I feel bad that I don't remember her exact age at the time, but I remember being heartbroken for her mother and father. And I was so grateful that I hadn't had to deal with that kind of loss.  If only I had known then that I only had another two weeks with my mother. And only one week before our 6-hour a day conversations would come to an end because she was in so much pain. 

Today, my heart aches. Today, I remember the good and the bad of our relationship and I want to hold them close, no matter how painful. I simply don't want to lose the connection - the only connection - to her that I have left. And I don't just ache for my relationship that I've missed out on with her because of a heart attack and doctors that didn't pay attention, but for the relationships that she could have had with all of her children and their children...the lack of a future of that relationship makes me ache with sadness for myself and all of us. I wish I could tell her that I love her, that I appreciate her, that I talk to my children about her every day. That my adopted family talks about her and what she means/meant to each of them all the time. 

I just want her to know that she is loved for now and always. 

Every year, for her birthday and the anniversary of her death, I try to do at least one nice/kind thing in the world. It doesn't make the loss better, but it lets me feel like her memory, her influence is still lingering in a world that changes every day in oh-so-many ways. I can't bring her back, but I can keep her with me in my heart and soul.

May everyone have a conversation about twitching mussels, bees, and all of life with someone that means so much to them. 

Happy birthday, Mommy. 

Sometimes I Wonder

iLet's start this off and just say: I know that I'm a horrible mother.

I sometimes wonder what it would be like if I didn't have children. If I didn't have to constantly insert myself in their arguments or battles. If I didn't have to prevent myself from taking my medication for insomnia so that I can ensure than none of them do something awful while I'm asleep - especially when I am on vacation with them without my nesting partner. 

Part of being a parent is accepting that there are times that you are going to get less sleep or that your sleep may be less restful at times than you would like. That is part of accepting that you are going to be a parent, but parenting a high needs child is especially difficult and those times are even more frequent. 

I have insomnia, so I don't sleep the way my body needs and it is frustrating for me to sleep even with medications, but there are times that I take my medications and my HN child gets up and does awful things. When I am solo-parenting (like when I am on "vacation" without my partner), I feel like I can't take my sleeping medications because I can't trust that my HN child will sleep - well or at all. Even when I think they are asleep, they may be faking it so that I will take my sleeping medication and give them an opportunity to do the thing(s) that they have been prohibited from doing while a parent is awake. 

I realize that being a parent will include days that you don't get the sleep that you need, but I am frustrated and wondering (guiltily) what it would be like to be childless so that I can feel comfortable and not guilty for sleeping when my body can and I need it rather than just when my body allows it (which may not be a time that I am able to based on necessity). 

I want to be able to put my kids to bed and not have to worry that they will be getting up after everyone is asleep to sneak treats or do things that they know they shouldn't/aren't allowed to normally. I want to be able to say that I have a time that I'm not "on-duty" so that I can recharge. But I can't. 

At home, the times that I am "off-duty" mean that my partner has to be doubly vigilant and I end of stressing over every shout or yell or cry despite the fact that I am supposed to be resting. My partner also notices this with their "time off" and has taken to having time out of the house a couple of times a week to make sure that they get time to reset. I, on the other hand, am an introvert and cannot handle time out of the house for very long and don't enjoy spending time with people regularly. The only exceptions being with my partners, but they also have children and I have to be "on-duty" with their children as well as mine, so it doesn't feel like a re-charging period for me. It's frustrating, but that is the truth of the matter.

Maybe I should have ignored my urge to have children - I never considered that they would turn out like my brother and require 24/7 attention with no down time to prevent trouble and mischief - even for sleep - but there you have it. 

I love time with my family, and I love time with my siblings, but I am tired. I am exhausted by the trouble that comes with going away, especially without my nesting partner. And I am tired of being "on-duty" even when I'm supposed to be able to get some rest. It leaves me wanting to cry for hours to purge the excess feelings and emotions. 

Why is parenting this hard?!