"Of all God's creatures, there is only one that cannot be made slave of the lash. That one is the cat. If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve the man, but it would deteriorate the cat." - Mark Twain

Thursday, October 20, 2011

How I Found My Rage

One of the hardest things to deal with since my life went to crap is how I don't have a lot of genuine feelings any more. Sometimes I get flashes of anger and sometimes I get flashes of fear. I can laugh at something funny but I don't feel the happiness really.

I found my rage today, or rather, someone gave it back to me. And while it feels horrible right now, I think ultimately it will be a good thing for me in my healing process.

I went to my lawyer's office to get prepped for my doctor's appointment on Monday. The gentleman walked me through some questions and encouraged me to be honest and direct.  Near the end of the interview, he told me that if I felt sad or needed to cry Monday while talking about my life, don't be afraid to - that it's ok to show what I'm feeling. I remarked that it might be difficult since I felt so empty now and my emotions weren't willing to surface too much any more.

That's when the whole session went to hell.

He sat at the table, looked me in the eyes and said, "Well, there's only one person who can fix that you know?"

I knew what he meant but I sat in shock. I had already explained to him twice how hurt and angry I had felt when the first hospital I went to had told me I needed church and Jesus. Surely he wasn't going to go there. He continued:

"You know who it is, don't you? I'm just gonna come right out and say it. It's Jesus."

Geez, I thought. You can't get away from Jesus in this town. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to encourage him. He mumbled some more about how Jesus could fix my problems - not that he would, necessarily - though he could if he wanted to.

I tried to be polite. "I thought that when I was 14 but it didn't work."

He persisted, "Well, I know you feel Jesus abandoned you but he hasn't. You just need to reach out to him again and he can make it better."

I'd had enough. I said calmly and politely, "No, I don't think he's abandoned me. I just don't think he exists. There's not enough evidence."

"Of course there's evidence all around you!" he exclaimed. "Just look around. You can go down Highway 4 and find evidence of God. I don't mean to preach at you but..."

"Then please don't," I asked.

Then he said it. "Have you ever seen a newborn baby?"

It was like a knife slashing across my heart. I felt raw anger ooze into me. I felt rage.

"Yes!" I snapped. "I saw my newborn son dead in my arms!"

The guy didn't miss a beat. "Well, how did he die?"

I didn't respond. The rage seeped into my throat and closed it temporarily. I saw red. I felt the adrenaline once again.

My poor sweet partner said quietly, "He was stillborn."

I'm not sure what else the man said but he muttered something else about Jesus and not meaning to preach.

I found my voice again and said coldly, "Is there anything else we need to discuss?"

"No," he sneered, "good-bye." And with that, he stood up and dismissed us like we were trash.

I left a message with the firm's owner for her to call me. I'm going to complain and let her know how unprofessionally I was treated. I worry now that my case may be compromised but, more than that, I'm sick to death of religious bullies who think they can shove their religion in my face any time, anywhere, with no regard to my feelings or the tragedies in our lives.

I'm taking a stand against anyone who would twist my son into a weapon against me.

I'm taking a stand against this even if I have to take on the whole town. It ends here with me.


  1. I'm horrified that a professional would treat you this way. This is the disgusting result of christian privilege needs to be fought back against. Hard. It's horrific that you were treated in such a disrespectful, thoughtless, ignorant, fuckheaded manner. You have my support, meager as that may be.

  2. Holy Cow! That is completely ludacris! I cannot believe that a person who is suppose to be an educated professional could be so dense.