Date: November 05, 2021 12:49PM
My father’s oldest brother left the church when he was 18. Everyone hated him for a long time for that. They eventually brought him back to some family functions, but it was always awkward. I as a kid watched all the adults backbite my uncle and I figured he was a real piece of shit. Then I found out the only thing he ever did was thinking that Mormonism was stupid.
My father’s baby brother had a disability, ADHD I think. Safe bet. It runs on the family. He was a fuck up. He couldn’t do anything right. No one liked him. He fell into a depression and got fat and died of a heart attack at 38. I was at BYUI when he died, and since he had the forethought to die around Christmas break I came down to see the funeral. I think I skipped some school days anyway. Family comes before anything. I watched everyone talk about my some version of my uncle, my dad’s baby brother, who never existed. It was bizarre and chilling.
How did I feel at that time? Well, I had just gotten back from my mission within the last 3 or 4 years. I felt like a failure. I was struggling to keep a testimony, because I knew so much about the church I wasn’t supposed to know from fighting with so many critics of the church trying to safe souls. But I also knew that no one cared what my thoughts were on that, because the issue would immediately become about my worthiness and on that front I had nothing to hide from my father who was my bishop and I was afraid he’d mistake me for an irrational antiMormon and use it all against me — like they did my dad’s oldest brother. But if I pretended to be Mormon for the rest of my life and smiled through my depression, what was there to look forward to? Nothing but getting fatter and fatter until eventually I died prematurely and they slathered me with things they never would said to me while o alive and say something about I was too good for this world and then lower me into the ground and just fucking forget about me because I was a disappointment anyway.
I was 24 about to turn “menace to society” age. Those se the thoughts I had in my head. Someone more “high functioning” would read the writing on the wall and marry someone, anyone, and start playing the Mormon game for social brownie points. Temple marriage 10 points. 1st kid 20 points. Make sure they see how far you’re coming along with a Christmas card! Great job 50 points. Giving the Lord (the church) credit for all of it 100 points. suppressing your weeping inner child successfully another 100 points! It’s not manly to let people see you dying inside. Compensate by throwing yourself on the church. Don’t give yourself any time to think. Just like they did to your father. Pop out those kids and repeat the cycle unthinkingly on them too.
I was a little “less functioning,” but it doesn’t mean I’m not smart in my way. Why would I ever do any of this to myself? How do I avoid it? If I can’t play the Mormon game and win, that leaves me with two fates: my oldest paternal uncle (run away and let them talk shit about you to everyone you ever knew) or my youngest paternal uncle (stick around, try to argue with them within a believing framework, but I know there’s gonna be a lot of stress that comes from that). I decided to split the difference, because they’ll listen to me (I thought). I went full atheist but hung around to watch the shit show. Genius level move. Muah. Let’s get all the stress of the next fifty years out of the way in just seven. I hate my family now. Hmm. I guess it’s better than living an empty life while you wait around for acknowledgment and approval that’s never coming. I kinda prefer being loathed by them: it’s way better than the alternatives. This must be what my oldest paternal uncle figured out at a young age.
When my paternal grandfather died, my dad’s dad, my oldest paternal uncle came to help dress the body for the funeral. But since that involved sacred Masonic garments and temple clothes, his brothers told him to get lost. My dad reported that story to me before he knew I was apostate too. At least he regretted it. Idk if he would have done anything different if repeating it was an option. What kind of repentance is godly sorrow without change? Answer: none at all. Which means Mormons don’t get to be acknowledged as compassionate if they don’t show the compassion. Sayinf how sorry you are while you steamroll someone’s feelings in the name of the church is not sorrow. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t do it. Imagine the Spanish Inquisitors asking for forgiveness from the people they were torturing. They weren’t sorry. Or if they were, they were more afraid that it would be them next, but they’re still complicit in the act. They want you to forgive them because the church is making them do it. No, that doesn’t mean the church is a cult… well, actually it would.
Everyone’s mad at me because I’m the last year I’ve taken my gloves off and told everyone what I think about everything. Even the cousins from mom’s side who came home early from their missions because of stress and seeing hypocrisy or whatever are mad at me because I’ve messed up their long game trying to metamorphose the parents from a distance. It wasn’t happening. What a waste of life. There are about half dozen of us in the extended family now that don’t believe, but we can’t unionize for shit. They get a little approval and a tolerable place back in the parents’ hearts and suddenly they become the Jack Mormon equivalent of Uncle Tom. Even Chief joined in on the fun and gaslit me a little bit and called me crazy.
I learned one thing from the approach I took: Mormons are insane and they’re never going to change. They will always blame you. They will always demand that you compromise your reasonable positions with their batshit, because if they can get you to come down off of your pedestal that means you’re weak and you’re no longer a threat to them. Because one of their axioms is that of someone has the truth, they won’t compromise it. They’ll use every dirty gaslighty trick to make you come down. They’ll say you’re being unfair to family. They’ll say you’re hurting mother. Don’t do it. Burn their asses. Make it accurate. Be consistent. Don’t take it back. Then walk away. Fuck them. That’s the only way you win with some of your dignity intact. Get under their skin and make them think about you years after the fact and don’t look back.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 11/05/2021 01:18PM by Cold-Dodger.