![]() Growing up with divorced parents, I never had a place to call my own. Most people don't even realize the truth of that sentence. Not until I moved in with my husband did I have a real home of my own. As a child it was always either "Mom's House" or "Dad's House", never did I use to the word home. However with all that transitioning back and forth, one thing always stayed the same, the Catholic Church. My parents were both Catholic and baptized me and raised me the same. I went all though CCD (Catholic sunday school) courses. I was confirmed and became an official Catholic somewhere around the age of 12. Even though, I was forced to do all of this, my parents never made going to church a priority. It was just something I had to hurry up and get done and that was it. We were more of the holiday Catholics, the ones you would only see during holidays like Christmas and Easter. Also with divorced parents, they would never go to the same church so I had several churches I would attend, but no matter where in the world you go, a catholic mass is the same every single time. And for me, that was the only stable thing in my life. It felt like home. I felt accepted no matter what. As I grew older, it became more of my choice whether I attended Mass or not. Most times not, probably because of my anxiety more than anything. But like I said, my parents never made it a priority and I saw that growing up, so why would I do it now as an adult.
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My Medical Statistics: Diagnosis: Major Depression Disorder PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder Prescription: Clonazepam 1mg Psychiatrist: Psychologist: Moeller, Myers and Associates, Sterling, IL Archives
November 2018
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