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. There were so many different churches I attended as a child. The church in the top corner is the Catholic Church in Cullom, IL. This church is and will always be so dear to my heart. This is the church my father's parents married in, and then my uncle and both grandparents funeral services were held there. I tried so hard to get married their myself but it is in such podunk town there is nothing within miles of it. The church is a beautiful cathedral church. Absolutely gorgeous. I try to go everytime I've near that area. Funerals are never fun but in the catholic religion they are more of celebrations of life, than sorrow, and what better church to celebrate life. Now the church in the other photo is the Catholic Church in Oregon, IL. This is the church my father and stepmother married in, this the also the church I did most of CCD classes at, and was confirmed in. I spent a lot of time at this church. Not always fond memories but like always, the same Mass every time. The last church that comes to mind is in Byron, IL. Not only is this the church my parents married in, I was also baptized and had my first communion there. This church I have mixed feelings about as well. Although Mass never changed, the memories that reside there aren’t always pleasant. So wouldn’t a child with acceptance and neglect issues in a unstable environment find some sort of peace in the Catholic Church. It was the only stable thing in my childhood. No matter where I was or who I was with, Mass was always the same. It began to feel like home. The only place I felt accepted and the only place that never neglected me. It never let me down or changed plans. It was always the same.
When the trauma started to hit me, I felt a need for that feeling again. A place of of acceptance, a place of peace, a place of clarity. And I went back to Mass. I voluntarily went to Mass by myself for the first time in over 5 years. And how can I explain it: emotional. It was a Wednesday morning so I was only one of 4 people who attended so I held back the tears. They were tears of sorrow, of joy, of peace, of acceptance. It felt like home. I have not attended a mass since, not by choice, but by circumstance. I want to return regularly once I can figure out a schedule with the kids. But it felt good to be “home”. It’s a time for me to reflect, meditate and find peace. While looking at children’s books at a book sale, I found this. No coincidences.
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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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