I enjoy reading Reddit articles and posts on occasion. Today, I came across one of the most intense personal stories I’ve read in a long time. I don’t know the age of the young man who write it, but he titled his post “Mom, you want to know why I don’t want kids? Because you picked your religion over me, and silently watched him [your husband/my father] abuse me.”
The source link can be found at the bottom. [Warning, the following may have language that offends some].
Just another stupid religious parent rant.
I read a post asking about childhood memories, and I couldn’t stop myself. I had to comment. I knew it would bring old memories back to the surface, and fill me with rage, but I just couldn’t stop myself.
How could you stay silent, mom? You were there when your husband, my father, was diagnosed bipolar. You met his side of the family – saw ADHD, anxiety, bipolar … mental illness was everywhere.
The obvious truth was right there. I was textbook ADHD. My 1st grader teacher quit, because of me. My 2nd grade teacher, and school nurse, told you I had ADHD. They pleaded with you to medicate me.
A group of old men. Businessmen and lawyers, with no medical experience. That’s who you listened to. That’s who convinced you that mental disorders weren’t real. Just because they called themselves Mormon prophets? How fucking weak-minded are you!?
That’s why you didn’t say a fucking word, and just watched that bastard take his anger out on me, over and over. Did you even give a fuck, when you listened to it happening?
I grew up, fucked up. You even nervously disregarded the suicidal notes I wrote in my journal, at 8 years old.
I was talented, yet still a loser. I was alone, living in your basement, while my 20’s were passing me by.
Sometimes I would get hysterical, and confide in you. My angry, helpless cry for help from my suicidal depression, and swinging moods. How I kept finding new doctors, but they couldn’t figure it out. They couldn’t give me the right meds.
And the whole time, you knew the answer. You knew the fucking answer! All you had to say was bipolar. But you didn’t say anything, because your shit religion told you it wasn’t real.
But you couldn’t deny it forever. You had to believe when you found out about your sweet, kind son. How I went feral, and the cops had to fight and tase me, strap me down, and send me to the psych hospital.
You finally accept it, now? You’re sorry that I’m 30, and my life is still a pile of shit? Well, fuck you! I hate you. I hate you for being so god damn weak, and listening to some old piece of shit lawyers for medical advice! And I hate you because I still love you, because you still cared for me, even though you wouldn’t help me.
And now my little niece. She has it worse than me. You mention how much she reminds you of me. You smile and laugh at first, but then that worried look flashes across your face. You know your daughter, my sister, her mother, is even more of a Mormon fanatical than you are. You know your granddaughter is in trouble. Are you going to stay quiet, and watch her life implode? How can you keep being so stupid?
I’m not continuing the family cycle of illness and abuse. I won’t be a part of it.
I’m okay, now. I am not alone. I am not homeless. I am not penniless. I need to breathe, and Calm down. Hopefully I can sleep, now.
This was heart breaking to read. In the comments section, the original poster felt bad later on for posting his raw emotions but he said he was doing okay now. But still. How many of us grew up, or perhaps even raised children, under the false belief that mental illness was actually a spiritual problem? A sin problem? I struggled with that belief in my early adult years. The church preached it but it never settled well with me. I wish now I could raise my own kids over again without the delusion of religion.
Reading this young man’s post above reminded me of what the late Christopher Hitchen’s often said: “Religion Poisons Everything”.