While waiting for Angel’s Show Choir concert to start last Sunday afternoon, Lydia Jean used markers to color Andrew’s hands. I was thinking, What if I forget to make Andrew take a bath? He can’t go to school like that. When we get home, things will be so crazy ~ I’m sure to forget and in the morning, he’s not going to have enough time to wash all that color off his hands. I know that I will forget. Ugh ~ I’m so doomed!
Don’t panic … calm down … deep breaths …
by Vyckie
Back in December, sometime before Christmas, I had a horrible migraine headache which had me in bed all day with my head covered ~ wishing someone would shoot me and put me out of my misery. Nobody did. (Which reinforces my old QF thinking that I cannot die ~ I’m still too necessary with all these kids depending on me.) For two or three weeks afterwards, I could not think ~ I felt like the headache had killed off brain cells and left me in a daze.
Since that time, my blood pressure has been super low ~ which always makes me feel like a zombie ~ and with the poor blood circulation comes THE PAIN. I’m not sure if the pain from the bone condition coupled with Fibromyaligia actually gets worse when my blood pressure drops or if I just lose my high tolerance for pain and can’t ignore it like I usually do ~ but lately, it has been incredibly distracting as all I can think about is, “Ouch!” and “Yikes!” and “Why can’t I cope with this?”
As a result, I’ve been tempted with depression ~ which I have been fairly successful in suppressing simply by refusing to think. When I am hurting, if I let my thoughts go ~ inside my head, I sound something like this:
Too bad I can’t pray about this pain ~ or at least ask others to pray for me. Since I don’t believe all the God-stuff anymore ~ guess I just have to suck it up and wait it out ~ be tough until this episode of low blood pressure passes. Ouch. Ugh ~ why should I be strong? I don’t have anything to prove ~ no testimony to uphold ~ no Holy Spirit to empower me ~ no Jesus to strengthen me ~ no eternal reward to motivate me to endure this torture … why not just give up?
Since I don’t have any good arguments to counter that debilitating line of thinking ~ I’ve been trying hard not to go there. For my kids’ sake ~ I have to keep going ~ I cannot allow myself to get apathetic or despondent.
“That’s just the pain talking,” I tell myself, “don’t listen to it.”
So instead of paying attention to the mess in my head, I turn on my iPod and crank up some mind-numbing Hip-Hop music, or I ask John to read to me ~ I can’t stand to read fiction myself, but John has a deep, dramatic voice which makes it easy to get caught up in the story and escape my disheartening thoughts for a while ~ sometimes I watch a movie with the kids ~ or sit out on the patio swing with Andrew, Lydia and Wesley and listen to their little-kid philosophical ramblings (which actually can be rather insightful ~ always so optimistic and hopeful) ~ if all else fails ~ I go to sleep. I usually don’t have much trouble getting to sleep as I’m always so exhausted that I am out the instant my head hits the pillow. On the rare occasion when I can’t sleep because I’m in too much pain and can’t get comfortable ~ rather than laying in bed letting my mind wander down the melancholy path it wants to take ~ I have a shot or two of brandy and knock myself out.
Once in a while, I get desperate enough to consider thinking constructively ~ I can sense that being dispossessed of my faith is a real loss ~ I know that I need something to believe in to give me hope and enthusiasm and a reason to buck up and press on …
Only I remember that at the time I was waking up to the evil and destruction of my fundamentalist Quiverfull beliefs ~ I was in such a panic ~ I scrambled to find something of my faith that I could hold onto ~ something I could salvage and say, “At least this I still believe.” I read a stack of books ~ theology, philosophy, apologetics, hermeneutics, comparative religions ~ and I scoured the Internet for information and ideas ~ had long, deep conversations with anyone who was willing to be a sounding board or offer their perspective … Sadly for me, I came away from that search empty-handed ~ or should I say, “empty headed”?
(LOL ~ along with my loss of faith, I’ve also given up the need to seem like I’m actually “with it” ~ so if everyone thinks I’m seriously a nutcase ~ I’m not defensive about it ~ in fact, I might be inclined to agree.)
I want to believe ~ because I have experienced all the benefits of belief ~ and I know I need something like that to bolster my courage and motivate me to tackle “my list” ~ so I do still try to figure out the nature of the universe and the meaning of life ~ I’m still reading and thinking ~ puzzling ~ hoping for some new revelation which I can actually accept without having to squeeze myself and/or God back into a box.
I have this (possibly irrational) idea that whatever I end up believing and committing myself to is going to have to be REALLY GOOD ~ extraordinarily brilliant. After having experienced the power of the Quiverfull vision ~ an idea so compelling that I risked my life repeatedly as I had absolute confidence that the revelation of godly family living was The Truth ~ I can’t imagine that I will ever be inspired by conventional explanations of my purpose for being.
Realistically, I’m pretty sure there’s no ideal so grand and all-consuming ~ and at the same time, true ~ which I’d be willing to completely center my life around the way I did with my fundamentalist Christianity. Which is a discouraging thought.
Which is why I mostly try to avoid thinking.
The best way I’ve come up with to describe the extreme sense of anti-climax and disorientation ~ the emptiness ~ the fizzle ~ which really messes with a QF-walkaway’s ability to keep going is to liken it to the feeling I imagine an Esctasy addict must experience after coming down from the drug and going through withdrawals ~ and trying to be happy with feeling “normal” again.
It used to be that as a QF mother raising up mighty warriors for the Lord’s army ~ every act of service ~ no matter how mundane ~ from changing diapers to washing mounds of dishes to matching up a tub-load of socks to making enough pizza to feed an army ~ all of it was of eternal consequence. It was all for His glory ~ plus, I was earning jewels to adorn the crown of righteousness which I’d wear in Heaven as reward for my dedicated, faithful service ~ for doing my part to advance His Kingdom on earth.
Now ~ it’s just chores. It is work. And it is a ton of work at that.
So if I’m not working on my 12-page “to-do” list for the glory of God ~ why do it at all?
Okay ~ this is my cue to have a panic attack.
I hate to quit writing at this horribly depressing point ~ I should press on until I get to something encouraging and end this post on a positive note ~ but this is already too long and I’m tired of writing. Sorry.
But ~ it is the weekend ~ and since I’m determined to relax and be happy ~ I won’t go away from this post all discouraged and overwhelmed …
I did forget to tell Andrew to take a bath ~ but there was no need to panic. Andrew had entertained himself during the church service earlier in the day by writing the name of the girl in his class that he’s in love with (shhhh! don’t tell anyone it’s Maddy!) ~ surrounded with hearts and flowers. No way did he want to be caught with that on his arm ~ so he was self-motivated to get in the tub and scrub all the markings off with no need for Mom to tell him to get it done. :)
Discuss this depressingly “realistic” post on the NLQ forums ~ LOL
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'Breaking Their Will: Shedding Light on Religious Child Maltreatment' by Janet Heimlich
‘Quivering Daughters‘ by Hillary McFarland
‘Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement‘ by Kathryn Joyce
Michelle says, Never enough babies!
