Monday, February 21, 2011

R is for...

Relatives:




A few months ago, my parents locked me in the car and drove around until I told them why I would not agree to hold a Primary calling.  (For the record, I live with my parents, though I have a degree and am saving up to move out.)

My dad, who at the time was the Ward Clerk, called me at work and asked if I would consider a Primary calling.  I said, "No, thanks."  Next thing I know, my mom calls me up demanding to know why I refused a calling.  I tell her I don't want to talk about, please don't call me at work and hassle me.  The answer is no.  Thanks for thinking of me, but no.  No. No. 

She continues to force the issue.  I keep saying nonono.  I don't want to talk about it.  Please don't call me up at work.  Please just drop it.  She calls me selfish.  Calls me rude.  Eventually hangs up with the request we go to dinner later. 

Now I know I'm in for it.  I panic.  But, like a fugitive running from the law, I'm also a little relieved.  I could finally express myself.  My thoughts.  I'd been depressed, almost suicidal for ninth months.  I was slowly climbing out of the deep, dark chasm.  The grand cave of depression and despair, hatred guilt and grief dripping from the ceiling, running in rivulets down the walls, carving deep scars.  I saw the tiny pin-pricks of light one afternoon and crawled towards them.  I didn't need this. shit.  pulling me back in.  I was ready.

We went to dinner, acted like nothing was wrong.  Like we all didn't know the dynamite that was about to explode.  My mom brought it up of course.  The quick questions darting out of her mouth like black, winged bats.  Tiny darts of accusation.  What's the matter with you? 

I kept repeating, I don't want to talk about it.  I don't want to talk about it. 

I got up and walked out. 

We drove around my neighborhood.  Their questions came at me like I knew they would.  You're lying.  You're faking.  You've been listening to other people.  You've been reading anti-Mormon books.  You think you can just be a good person!?  What do you know?  You're 22.  You haven't really thought about anything, you just don't want to do the hard thing.  This is just so easy for you to turn your back on. You're selfish.  You're unapproachable.  The whole family thinks they can't even interact with you. 

What part of this is supposed to be EASY!!???  I screamed at them.  I was almost suicidal FOR NINE MONTHS.  I asked you to go to a doctor over and over again and you wouldn't take me.  You know what you did?  You offered to give me a blessing!  I didn't need that.  I needed HELP.  You. didn't. help.

I think that's what hurt the most.  Two of my relatives suffer(ed) from depression.  My dad's brother shot himself in the head.  My cousin tried to hang himself.

But I, I tried to take the easy way out. 

My mother accused me of lying.  If my father wouldn't take me to a doctor, why didn't I ask her? 

Why would I mom? 

So you could accuse me of lying again? 

Poor Mormons.  Their families are forever so they can deal with bullshit for eternity. 

And I'm the dishonest one who can't think for herself. 


- Emily

7 comments:

  1. That sounds terrible! I'm glad you stood up for yourself.

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  2. So sorry you have to go through that...it's so frustrating when our families are the ones who are supposed to love us more than anything and it seems more often than not Mormons choose their church over family. I hope you are able to move out soon and find your way! Glad I found your blog! I'm also in the heart of Mormondom...sigh

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  3. @Amy It wasn't fun, but thanks! :)

    @Kaylanamars I'm happy you found it too! :) I think one of the most frustrating things is that our families just don't see it as an issue! They think there is nothing wrong with their hurtful actions because they don't know any better. It's sad. :(

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  4. I'm pretty sure 22 year olds are allowed to make their own doctor's appointments.

    Also, not seeing a doctor for depression is not a Mormon doctrine. Our ward pays for a number of people's therapy with fast offering funds.

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  5. @Retief

    Yes, but I'm on my parents' insurance as it is not provided by my work at this time. Additionally, I've just moved to the area and had no general practitioner. As my family has a long history with depression, I was asking my father to make a Dr. appointment for me because he is more familiar with doctors in the area and he is also deeply familiar with depression. I would also like to point out that those with depression are often not in their right minds and not able to seek help for themselves. I don't believe I was at this point, but many do need help from family members to make appointments etc.

    I NEVER said not seeing a Dr. was Mormon doctrine. I never implied it either. I'm happy your ward is able to help its members out as I know this is not always the case. I was expression my frustration with seeking REAL medical help and my family ignoring my requests for REAL help in favor of something that I didn't not (and DO NOT) believe would help me.

    I appreciate your input, nonetheless, and for allowing me to think more about the importance of clarification in my writing.

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  6. Emily, thanks for responding. Certainly somebody sunk deep into depression may not be able to arrange for her own care, and her loved ones, in general, ought to be pushing for professional intervention not against it. You seemed to be pretty adamant about needing treatment.

    You seem to have some major frustrations with your family. I can't, of course speak to your experience, but, sometimes, those frustrations and frustrations with the church can get conflated. Thus my urge to clarify that we believe in treating depression medically.

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