Okay, gang, therapy time. Big Tex took Monday night off to help me work through my latest wave of depression and yucky feelings, and kind of helped me look at things a different way. Your opinions too are welcome. My dad, as some of you have read in previous posts, did a complete turnaround when we put Mom in a nursing home. She was very controlling and when she went out of his life, it was like he snapped. He went from being an elder, anointed, rock, someone you could always talk to about anything, to a drunken, skirt-chasing sailor. He was in the Navy during WW2, by the way, so he had some experience in that area. He got himself disfellowshiped and then reinstated, but he's living a double life now, still drinking and sleeping around, tried to commit suicide, went on antidepressants and then off, takes Xanax god knows how many times a day, washed down with god knows how much wine. (Last Sunday he came over for Superbowl, had five glasses of wine and insisted on driving himself home instead of spending the night as he had originally planned. It was kind of alarming and we decided to ban all liquor when he comes over.)
All of this happened as my reasons for leaving the organization rose to a crescendo, so I think the two events are entwined. I also think that my mom did a really good job of raising me to separate God from the organization, because I don't feel betrayed by him and pray probably more now than I ever did, and I feel like there's someone there listening to me. But I feel betrayed by both my father and the organization, and it's very unsettling to my inner kid to think that my entire life and upbringing was a lie. The father I thought I had didn't really exist, and the peace and spiritual security I thought I had didn't exist. Somewhere inside of me there's a little kid who feels abandoned and scared and embarassed for feeling loved when there was no love. Did he keep up a pretense for 53 years of marriage? Did he have some kind of breakdown or stroke? Is it the drugs he's taking? I don't know. I've asked his doctors and they say there's nothing wrong with him physically.
I had dinner with some friends tonight who are still going to meetings but are also disillusioned, and I talked to them about how I was feeling. They tried halfheartedly to rationalize it, I think more to convince themselves than me. I left there feeling kind of flat emotionally, and kind of sad.
Anybody else out there feel this way or work through it? I don't know if I'm expressing myself understandably, but I just needed to reach out tonight.
Nina